#I feel bad for being all over the place lately

[moonlightdreamzz]

goodnight n go — yang jungwon.

🎧 ➤ goodnight n go by ariana grande

GENRE. FLUFF. down bad for eachother but can’t say it out loud. only with actions.

SUMMARY. you tell Jungwon you’ve always wondered what it’s like to do couple things during the holidays—and without hesitation, he makes it happen.

AUTHORS NOTE. this absolutely warmed my cold heart. This man evokes things out of me I wasn’t aware was still there. I’ll add a keep reading later.

“jungwon, i’m not playing with you!” you squeal loudly, nearly tripping over your own feet as you chase him around the couch. he’s laughing so hard it’s a miracle he hasn’t dropped your phone yet. “damnit, jungwon!”

“you must have been—” he dodges left, then right, “looking at something—” he darts into the kitchen, “real embarrassing to be chasing me like this!”

he finally stops near the counter, grinning from ear to ear and completely unfazed by the fact that you’re out of breath and glaring daggers at him. “i wonder what it could be.” he questions in dramatic fashion, his finger poking his chin repeatedly as he looks into nothingness.

“jungwon,” you warn, hands on your hips, but it’s too late. his eyes land on the screen, and a mix of confusion and amusement washes over his face.

“gingerbread houses?” he says, reading the search history aloud. “how much does a gingerbread house cost?”

you freeze, your face instantly heating up. “give that back!”

he ignores you, his expression shifting into something so genuinely curious it’s almost infuriating. “why were you looking this up? are you suddenly into architecture? or… are you planning to eat an entire gingerbread house by yourself?”

you snatch the phone from his hand, groaning as you clutch it to your chest. “no, it’s not like that.”

“then what’s it like?” he asks, leaning casually against the counter. you so badly want to be upset with him, but his dimpled smile beaming in your face is making it impossible.

you let out a sigh, deciding it’s better to just explain than deal with his endless teasing. “it’s something couples do during christmas,” you mumble.

his brow furrows slightly, and he tilts his head. “couples?”

“yeah,” you say, shifting awkwardly under his gaze. “you know, building gingerbread houses together, wearing matching pajamas, taking cringy pictures… that kind of stuff.”

he’s staring at you now, his amusement fading into something softer, something more thoughtful. “and you wanted to do that?”

“i mean…” you shrug, trying to play it off. “i thought about it. but since i don’t exactly have the other half of the couple, i figured maybe i’d just do it by myself. pajamas and all.”

jungwon doesn’t respond right away. he’s just looking at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s something in his eyes that makes your stomach flip.

if you’re being honest, you don’t know what you and jungwon truly have going on. but it’s not for lack of clarity—it’s for lack of courage. because deep down, you both know. you know it in the way his eyes linger on you a little too long, in the way he remembers every offhanded comment you make, in the way your heart races whenever he smiles at you like you’re the only person in the room.

you weren’t entirely sure at first. jungwon’s the kind of guy who’s sweet to everyone, with a charm that feels effortless. it was easy to convince yourself that the way he treated you was just…him being him. until one day, you casually mentioned hanging out with another guy—a friend from work who’d been pestering you about grabbing coffee. you hadn’t thought much of it, but jungwon froze mid-bite of his ramen, chopsticks hovering in the air like the universe had suddenly paused.

“who?” he asked, his tone deceptively casual, but the furrow in his brows betrayed him.

you laughed, not understanding why he looked so confused. “just a friend,” you said, shrugging it off.

“a friend?” he repeated, his voice pitching slightly higher. he placed his chopsticks down, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed. “what kind of friend?”

you blinked at him, unsure why he was grilling you like this. “the normal kind? what other kind is there?”

he narrowed his eyes. “the kind that wants something more.”

your stomach flipped at the implication, but you played it cool. “what does it matter to you?”

jungwon’s jaw clenched, and for a moment, he looked like he wanted to say something. but then he just sighed, shaking his head. “it doesn’t,” he muttered, picking up his chopsticks again.

except it did. you could see it in the way he wouldn’t meet your eyes for the rest of the meal, the way he suddenly got quieter. it was like he couldn’t bring himself to say it, but the weight of what he felt was written all over his face.

and that’s when you knew.

but knowing and saying it out loud are two very different things.

so you kept hanging out, like you always did. no labels, no confessions—just spending time together, letting the unspoken feelings linger in the air between you. and maybe that’s why it works. because neither of you feels the need to rush. you’re slowly falling for each other, piece by piece, day by day.

“what?” you ask, suddenly self-conscious.

“nothing,” he says, a small smile tugging at his lips as he shakes his head. “you’re just… funny.”

you frown. “funny how?”

“i don’t know,” he says, pushing off the counter and walking past you to the living room. “you just are.”

you follow him, phone still clutched in your hand, watching as he flops onto the couch like he didn’t just say something cryptic.

“so, what do you want to eat?” he asks, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels like the conversation you just had didn’t happen.

your brows knit together. “that’s it? you’re not gonna say anything else about the gingerbread houses?”

he glances at you, a playful glint in his eyes. “what else is there to say? if you want to build a gingerbread house, build one. who cares if it’s cringey?”

all you can do is flip him off before plopping down beside him.

a lazy grin rests on his face. “so, food? yes? no?”

you roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto yours. “yes. but we’re getting my favorite after the distress you just put me though, twin.”

a couple of days pass, and life goes on in its usual rhythm. jungwon texts you here and there, nothing out of the ordinary. it’s a mix of random memes, updates on whatever he’s doing, and the occasional “you up?” when he’s bored at night. but tonight, his message feels different.

jungwon: what are you doing tonight?

your heart skips a beat, even though you’re not entirely sure why. it’s not like it’s weird for him to ask. still, the question makes your stomach do this weird, excited flip.

you: nothing really. why?

his reply comes almost immediately.

jungwon: i’m coming over. be ready in an hour.

you: should I be afraid?????

he doesn’t answer. instead, you’re left staring at your phone, trying to figure out what he’s up to.

an hour later, there’s a knock at your door, and when you open it, jungwon is standing there with a ridiculously large bag in one hand and a takeout bag in the other. he’s grinning, that dimpled smile lighting up his face, and you feel your heart do that thing again.

“what’s all this?” you ask, stepping aside to let him in.

“you’ll see,” he says, kicking off his shoes and heading straight to your living room like he owns the place.

you follow him, watching as he sets everything down on the coffee table. first, he pulls out two gingerbread house kits, complete with icing, candy, and all the little decorations. then, he pulls out a set of matching pajamas—red and white with little snowflakes printed all over them.

“jungwon…” you say, your voice trailing off as you take it all in.

“and your favorite,” he adds, holding up the takeout bag with a triumphant smile.

you blink at him, completely caught off guard. “what… what is all this?”

he shrugs, like it’s no big deal, but there’s a hint of nervousness in the way he avoids your eyes. “you said you wanted to do all that cringey couple stuff for christmas, right? so… let’s do it.”

your chest tightens, a mix of disbelief and something softer, warmer. “you actually remembered that?”

“of course, i remembered,” he says, finally looking at you. “i remember everything you say.”

for a moment, you don’t know what to say. it’s such a small gesture, but it feels like so much more. like he’s showing you, in his own quiet way, how much he cares.

“you’re so weird,” you say, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips.

“says the girl who was going to eat a whole gingerbread house by herself…” he trails, his face making an expression that says sureeeee. he sits down on the floor and pats the spot next to him.

“kiss it.” you mutter, rolling your eyes playfully.

“kiss what?” his eyes widen.

“my ass.” you slap your behind for dramatic effect—the sound echoing off your walls. did it hurt? yes. would you let him see that? no. jungwon’s eyes widen, and for the first time, he’s the one that’s frozen and unable to form a sentence. it’s only for a mere second though before he realizes his usually cool demeanor vanished. he shakes his head, as if he’s trying to remove the effect of your words and rubs the tips of his ears that are tinted pink.

anyone else wouldn’t have caught it. but it was you, so you did.

the jungwon, that jungwon wants everyone else to see, starts unpacking the gingerbread kits. you can’t help but steal a glance at him. there’s something about the way he’s so nonchalant about all of this, like it’s the most natural thing in the world for him to show up at your place with matching pajamas and your favorite food.

“so,” he says, breaking the silence. “are you ready to lose? because my gingerbread house is going to be way better than yours.”

you laugh, shaking your head. “we’ll see about that.”

jungwon carefully tears open the packet of icing, his brows furrowing in concentration. “you have to massage the icing bag first, you know. to warm it up,” he says, squeezing it between his hands like a professional baker.

you raise an eyebrow. “oh, so you’re a gingerbread house expert now?”

he looks up at you with mock seriousness. “obviously. you’re looking at the reigning champion of the 6th grade holiday fair. i crushed the competition.

“wow, i’m so intimidated,” you deadpan, ripping open your own icing packet with way less finesse than him.

he leans over slightly, just close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne—subtle, clean, and entirely too distracting. “you should be,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt in his voice.

you roll your eyes, but there’s a warmth spreading in your chest. this is how it always is with jungwon—light, playful, easy. but underneath all the teasing, there’s something softer.

“okay, watch and learn,” he announces, picking up one of the gingerbread walls and carefully piping a line of icing along the edge. “this is how you lay a solid foundation.”

“foundation?” you scoff. “it’s a gingerbread house, not a skyscraper.”

“and that’s why you’re going to lose,” he replies smugly, pressing the pieces together with meticulous precision.

you pretend to be unimpressed, but you’re secretly charmed by how seriously he’s taking this. as you attempt to glue your own walls together, one of them immediately collapses, the icing smearing all over your hands.

“oh, no,” you groan, holding up your sticky fingers.

jungwon looks over and snickers. “what happened to ‘it’s just a gingerbread house’?”

“shut up and help me,” you grumble, trying to balance the pieces with one hand while reaching for the icing with the other.

he scoots closer, his knee brushing against yours as he steadies the walls for you. “you have to hold it like this,” he says, his voice low as his hands gently guide yours.

the proximity makes your heart stutter, but you do your best to play it cool. “you’re just trying to sabotage me so yours looks better,” you accuse, glancing up at him.

his eyes meet yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything. there’s a flicker of something unspoken in his gaze, something that makes your breath catch.

“maybe,” he says softly, a small smile tugging at his lips.

you clear your throat, breaking the moment. “well, it’s working. i can’t focus with you this close.”

“then i guess i’ll stay right here,” he says, his tone casual but his eyes lingering on you a little too long.

you huff, turning your attention back to your gingerbread house. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, here i am,” he quips, settling back into his spot but staying close enough that your shoulders still brush occasionally.

as the night goes on, the competition turns into chaos. jungwon gets icing on his nose at some point, and you laugh so hard you accidentally knock over one of his walls. he retaliates by flicking a piece of candy at you, which starts an all-out candy war.

“truce!” you finally gasp, holding up your hands in surrender.

“only if you admit my house is better,” he says, his dimples on full display.

you roll your eyes but lean in closer, inspecting his work. “it’s not bad,” you admit, reaching out to straighten one of the candy canes on the roof.

your hand lingers a moment too long, and you realize just how close you are to him. he’s watching you, his expression soft, like he’s seeing something he can’t quite put into words.

“what?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

“nothing,” he says, but the way he looks at you says everything.

the moment stretches, filled with a warmth that feels almost tangible. and though neither of you says it out loud, it’s there in the way he gently nudges your shoulder, in the way you lean into him without even thinking.

“so,” you say, breaking the silence with a grin. “are you going to admit that i won?”

“pictures or it didn’t happen,” jungwon declares, pulling out his phone and snapping a dramatic photo of his gingerbread house. “look at this masterpiece. the symmetry, the structure—pure genius. i think i could sell this design.”

you lean over, squinting at the screen. “symmetry? jungwon, one of your candy canes is literally sliding off the roof. are you going for a modern look or just chaos?”

he gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “chaos? this is art, y/n. you just don’t get it.”

“right,” you drawl, crossing your arms but fighting back a smile. “you keep telling yourself that.”

jungwon shakes his head, clearly unimpressed with your critique. “okay, then let’s get the artist and the critic in one shot. come on.”

“what? no.” you lean back, shaking your head as he switches his phone to selfie mode.

“yes,” he insists, already angling the phone to get both of you and your gingerbread houses in frame. “this is for the archives. future generations need to know who built these masterpieces.”

“future generations are going to laugh at yours,” you shoot back, but you lean in anyway.

jungwon tilts the phone slightly, and you realize how close you are when your cheek almost brushes his. your laughter dies down, replaced by a warmth that makes your stomach flutter.

“okay, smile,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost like he’s talking to himself.

you glance at him instead of the camera, and for a split second, you wonder if he’s feeling the same thing you are.

then he snaps the picture and grins, pulling you out of your thoughts. “perfect,” he says, showing you the photo.

it’s cute. annoyingly cute. and the way his arm is casually slung around your shoulders doesn’t help the situation.

“all right, we’re done,” you announce, trying to shake off the tension.

jungwon raises an eyebrow. “done? we’re just getting started.” he uploads the picture to his finsta without hesitation, captioning it: couples who build together stay together.

your jaw drops, and you swat at him. “jungwon, what the hell?!”

he laughs, easily dodging you. “relax, y/n. it’s just my finsta. nobody cares.”

“oh, nobody cares? what about the word couples, huh?!” your voice pitches slightly, your face warming.

“what about it?” he counters, his expression too calm for your liking.

you pause, trying to think of a response, but the weight of the moment settles between you again.

“i—whatever,” you mutter, turning your attention back to the gingerbread kits to avoid looking at him.

jungwon watches you for a moment before grabbing his phone again. “okay, now let’s do this properly,” he says, standing up and heading toward the makeshift tripod he set up.

“do what properly?”

“matching pajamas, full couple vibes,” he explains, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “you wanted the experience, right?”

you huff but head to your room to change. when you come back, jungwon is already posing dramatically, pretending to lean on his gingerbread house like it’s a prize-winning sculpture.

“wow, someone’s really feeling himself,” you tease, but you can’t help smiling.

he flashes you his dimpled grin. “well, someone has to make this night memorable. now, get over here.”

you join him, and as the camera clicks away, you feel yourself relaxing again.

“these pictures better not end up anywhere else,” you warn as he scrolls through the shots.

jungwon just hums, clearly not listening, before setting his phone down. “hey,” he says suddenly, his voice softer now.

“what?” you ask, turning to look at him.

“thanks for letting me crash your night,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “i know this was kind of random.”

“are you kidding?” you laugh lightly. “you showed up with food, matching pajamas, and gingerbread houses. i should be thanking you.”

he meets your eyes then, and for a moment, it feels like the air is too thick to breathe. the playful banter fades, leaving only the unspoken tension that’s been building for weeks.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but jungwon beats you to it.

“do you want to watch a movie or something?” he asks, his voice casual, like he’s trying to defuse the moment.

you nod, swallowing hard. “yeah. a movie sounds good.”

jungwon settles onto the couch first, stretching out like like a baby . “come here,” he says, opening his arms like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

your breath catches. you’ve sat close to him before—legs over his lap, arms brushing, sharing blankets during movie nights. but this? this is new.

“you sure?” you ask, your voice quieter than you mean it to be.

he gives you a look, half amused, half serious. “i wouldn’t have asked if i wasn’t.”

with a small nod, you sit beside him, easing into his arms like you’ve been doing this your whole life. his chest is warm and steady beneath your cheek, and you can feel his heartbeat—a calm, unhurried rhythm that contrasts the storm swirling in your own.

you don’t realize how tired you’ve been until you let yourself relax against him. maybe it’s the rush of the evening catching up to you, or maybe it’s just jungwon. he has this way of making you feel safe, like nothing else in the world matters when you’re with him.

his fingers trace absent patterns along your arm, sending a quiet hum of comfort through your body. you yawn, trying to hide it, but jungwon chuckles softly.

“sleepy already?” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

“shut up,” you mumble into his hoodie, your words muffled but not entirely untrue.

he doesn’t respond, just pulls you closer, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

the world narrows to this—his warmth, his scent, the way his chest rises and falls beneath you. you don’t even notice when your eyes flutter shut, the exhaustion winning over.

a moment passes, or maybe more. you’re not sure how long you’ve been drifting when you feel it—a gentle, almost hesitant pressure against your forehead.

you stir slightly, but you don’t open your eyes.

then, the kiss comes again. firmer this time, confident. jungwon’s lips linger just long enough to make your heart skip.

your eyes flutter open, and the world feels softer somehow, like everything has shifted in the quietest, most significant way. jungwon’s face is close, his eyes searching yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, what you’re feeling.

you don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s him, maybe it’s you. but the space between you disappears, and suddenly, his lips are on yours.

it’s soft at first, like he’s testing the waters, but when you kiss him back, the hesitance melts away. the kiss deepens, slow and sweet, carrying the weight of every unspoken word, every stolen glance, every moment that’s led to this.

when you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, both of you breathing a little harder, a little shakier.

“so,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “does this mean i won the gingerbread competition?”

jungwon chuckles softly, his fingers brushing against yours. “yeah,” he says, his voice warm and steady. “but i think i won something better.”

your heart stutters, his words washing over you like a confession wrapped in simplicity. you meet his gaze, and the way he’s looking at you—soft, steady, and so sure—makes it hard to breathe.

you don’t reply, because what could you possibly say? instead, you lean in, closing the space between you, your lips finding his again. it’s unhurried, sweet, and everything you’ve been too afraid to admit until now.

[esotericbluntbaby]

bf! hamzah x reader headcannons (sfw!)

- i feel like his love language is acts of service. if you guys don't live together already, he definitely acts like you do. need to go run errands? he'll drive you. hungry? he'll cook you something. in fact, he has all the cabinets memorized so he really never has to ask you where anything is. he knows what you like and don't like, and obviously if you have any allergies, so everything he prepares is to your liking. stressed? he'll run you a hot bath, complete with candles and a laptop sitting on a table for you to watch movies. he would even sit down on the floor next to you to keep you company, just in case you wanted to talk. how sweet!

- though he's a busy man with his podcast and youtube channel, you rarely feel like you come second to his career the more the relationship progresses. although you probably reassure him that it's okay if he stays a little late to finish editing or filming, he makes it up to you by bringing you some food or flowers. he genuinely feels bad when he has to be kept away from his girlfriend, so he tries to make up for it afterwards by showing you that he thinks of you even when you're apart.

- he would definitely play games with you when he can. i feel like you'd get a random text from him while he's filming that says something along the lines of him playing a game with martin that he wants to play with you. if it's a horror game, he'd definitely have you sit on his lap. with each jumpscare, he holds you tighter as you both jump or possibly scream. you secretly know that it's just an excuse for him to hold you, but of course, you don't mind.

- whenever he watches you holding or petting red and blue, his heart melts a little. he enjoys when you take care of his cats since they're literally his children. there are times you'll sleep over and wake up to the sight of hamzah, red, and blue all cuddled up next to you.

- speaking of cuddle, hamzah seems like the type to have such a heavy grip on you when you're asleep together. i can imagine you trying to go to work or school and attempting to get up from out of bed but he simply doesn't let you. the grip he has on your waist is tight as SHIT like he's acting like he'd die if he let go. eventually you squeeze out of his arms and get ready, but he soon wakes up and asks you why you left him there.

- you are passenger princess. always. he HATES it when you drive because he doesn't see the point. he's always available to take you places and enjoys being your own personal chauffeur. he understands that you can do things on your own, but he wants you to understand that you don't have to since he's in your life.

- i feel like he's heavy on communication and comprehension. in the beginning of the relationship, he was probably scared to tell you when he got jealous or when you do something that bothers him, but over time he realized he has to talk or else nothing would change. if something's bothering him, he won't hesitate to talk to you about it in a respectful and meaningful way. he isn't accusatory, but talks to you with softness in his voice. you guys are a team. afterwards, he just basks in your existence and spends time with you to reassure you that you guys are alright.

- when you guys are out together, he acts like he hates when you baby him. he tries his best to seem as masculine and strong as possible when you two are in public. in private? the complete opposite. he prefers being little spoon and resting his head on your chest while you stroke his hair. he loves when you kiss him on the forehead and when you call him cute pet names. he looks at you with so much adoration when you treat him like he's your baby.

- when you're upset, he definitely tries to cheer you up by making you laugh. whether it's cracking joke after joke or pretending to fall or finding a funny game to play with you, he will not stop until he sees you smile. he hates seeing a frown on your face and will genuinely do anything to take any sort of discomfort or pain away from you.

--

authors note

i decided to write at 1:24 on a school night because i NEEDED more hamzah fics. ts is kinda ass tho but we thug! take care of urselves lovelies mwah i will write more soon!

[sweetpupii]

tw: non-con, somno, fingering & cunnilingus ( r!receiving ), reader cries just a little, praising, overstimulation, abby being the sweetest girl ever ( pretty ironic ) | 1.6k words.

having long nails is great.

they look cute, you can match them with your outfit and your makeup, you get some compliments, they're amazing at scratching and all that.

“wanna know what's frustrating though?” you start, mindlessly scrolling on your phone while abby looks at your new set of nails, her own unmanicured hand holding yours. “not to be, you know, nasty but I feel like I'm gonna slash my pussy open if I try to stick a finger in there the wrong way.”

only a low hum of agreement can be heard from the blonde as she leans back against the couch of your shared apartment, tracing the design that's beautifully decorating the nail on your middle finger. yeah, that looks like it would hurt real bad.

“then get a toy. there is more stuff you can use.”

“of course I know that, but I don't have time either. at this point I feel like a nun!” a ( kinda whiny ) sigh escaping your lips at the mere thought of all the weeks spent unsatisfied. coming home late and tired didn't give you much time to even grab a toy like abby suggested.

but luckily, you have a very thoughtful roommate!

this woman would do anything—and I mean anything—to see you happy because that's what friends are for. helping and supporting each other during tough times and, let me tell you, being sexually frustrated definitely counts as one.

“abby? what the fu—mhggm” her hand quickly went over your mouth to stop your protests to get louder and more panicked while the other worked to keep your legs and arms from pushing her face away. why are you acting so surprised to see her in between your legs when she's just trying to help? it's not like you would be able to push her away but jeez, didn't expect such an ungrateful response.

yes, she woke you up by making out with your pussy but you were basically asking for it earlier.

“gonna make you feel good.” she promised before she kept lapping at your cunt like a starved woman. slurping you up like you're her favorite dish. feeling the vibration of your desperate, muffled sounds against her palm made her speak again. “shh, I won't hurt you.”

taking off your underwear while you sleep, holding you down, forcing your mouth shut and your legs open doesn't hurt! not if you stay still, at least.

her plan was simple.

if she made you feel good by eating you out, using her own fingers to reach places you currently couldn't ( and probably have never been able to ) reach while you slept then you would surely wake up in a good mood and thank her with that precious smile of yours and maybe even a kiss.

but noooo, you decided to wake up in the middle of it and panic. ugh, just when your body was responding so well to her touch. she had seen the way your cunt was glistening when she started to slowly kiss it. the moonlight slipping through your curtains making the sight even prettier, and she'll be lying if she said the thought of taking a picture didn't cross her mind.

but a little crying from you won't stop her, even if she feels the hot tears against her skin.

she's still holding your legs open so she can continue to suck and lick at your clit, tongue tracing each fold and sensitive bit. your hips bucking into her face—but she's not sure if you're liking it and want more or you're trying to push her away.

“don't scream, okay baby?” she whispered against the soft skin on your inner thigh, peppering small kisses, while looking up at your watery eyes, “I'll be so gentle. trust me.”

actually, what other choice do you have? this woman can literally bench press 205 lbs. you get on her bad side and a single smack takes you back to your mother's womb. she has a mean right hook too, those punching bags stand no chance.

but again, it's abby who we're talking about.

the blondie that cuddles you to sleep anytime your bed feels too cold, who makes stupid jokes to cheer you up even if she cringes so fucking hard immediately after, who lets you try to count every freckle on her skin without even asking why, who can listen to you talk for hours and pay attention to every word, the one that drunkenly tells you how glad she is that you're her roommate and friend while kissing your shoulder even if deep down she wishes for more than that and stares at you as if you are the most important thing in the world—because to her you truly are.

so maybe she really just wants to make you feel good...

the second the fear and confusion in your eyes turns into something more calm, seeing the slow nod of your head, the small hiccup and your legs no longer struggling, she pulls her hand away from your mouth to trace the other set of lips, gathering the mixture of her saliva and your fluids on her fingertips before gently pushing one inside. “there we go…nice and slow.”

she might've been wrong for not asking first but how was she supposed to resist the feeling of your warm, tight walls squeezing her fingers just right as she curls them inside. soaking her knuckles in a shiny coat of stickiness that makes her want to dive in face first again and taste it until it becomes the only flavor she'll ever remember.

once she's sure that you're wet and comfortable enough, another thick digit slides in, the stretch earning a moan from you that has abby feeling like angels are singing and welcoming her to heaven. god, she has waited for so long to hear those sounds out of your lips—sounds caused by her, not your vibrator nor whoever you used to invite over thinking you two were quiet. ( she could hear you every.single.time… and honestly? it was so good to get a free show. )

even if her pace was somewhat slow, the thrusts of her fingers still managed to produce soft, wet noises that filled the room as they combined with your heavy breathing.

“told you I'd be gentle.” she cooed against your abdomen, trailing her kisses up your torso until she finally reached your lips. the same lips she has been dreaming of kissing since she moved in, since she first saw you smile, since you finally laughed at something she said, since the first time she saw them in a pretty shade of lipgloss. it's better than she ever imagined and she knows she'll ask ( beg ) for more from now on.

she's head over heels if you couldn't tell already.

“a warning would've been nice.” your quiet words bring a sheepish smile to abby’s face as she sighs, pulling her face away just a little, “sorry, you looked so stressed lately, I figured you wouldn't mind…”

abby aims to please even if she doesn't realize how bad her impulsive thoughts are before she acts on them. but look at the bright side; from now on you have a girl who's willing to drop to her knees and bury her face between your thighs at your own home almost 24/7!

after a bit, she starts to notice that the clenching and throbbing around her fingers gets more frequent and your moans louder, meaning she can finally speed up the pace. burying herself deep into your cunt to reach all the perfect spots she knows you've been missing. “fuck, you're so pretty. I wish you could see yourself…dripping all over the bed.”

she’s breathless as if she was the one getting touched, her own underwear damp just from seeing and pleasing you. can you blame her? she feels like a child on christmas morning.

“that's it, doing so good.”

oh, how she adores the way your hips tremble underneath her. making a mess on your bed sheets as you throw your head back—which she takes as an invitation and buries her face there. inhaling your scent like it's the only thing keeping her alive, like you're the oxygen she needs.

“gonna come? I can barely move my fingers with how tight you are.” liar. no matter how much you squeeze she's pumping them in and out without a single bit of effort. working out daily really pays off in the most satisfying ways. plus, you're too wet and it slides in and out very easily.

and god, her words make the flutter in your lower belly even worse. your hand gripping at her forearm, nails digging so hard she takes it as “it's too much.” when in reality she had fucked you so dumb with her fingers that reaching for abby was purely out of instinct.

she can't even understand the words ( babbles ) coming out of your mouth, all her pussy-drunk mind is able to register is the whiny tone tone in your voice because yes, she's as fucked out as you are.

the loud cry that escaped your puffy lips while repeating her name over and over definitely woke up a neighbor or two and just the thought of it makes abby's ego go up to the roof. who's making the prettiest girl in the building come? abigail motherfucking anderson.

her fingers continue their movements, a bit sloppier than before, but they keep going nonetheless. thumb circling your sensitive clit to add more stimulation.

she shushed your whimpers with soft kisses on your your temple and held you still to keep the overstimulated jerking off hips from pushing her away.

“you can take a little more, you're a big girl.”

and she's an insatiable woman.

masterlist ♡ taglist — @1ckyporcelainbunny @patronagrona

[sarahsangelicdoll]

ditzy doll reader gets upset when Rafe doesn't give her enough attention and talks with jj at a party to make him mad and finally pay attention to her

lowk something she’d do when she gets super desperate for any form of attention… also wasn’t sure if you wanted this smutty but it kinda seemed like it so heh i hope you don’t mine

Rafe eyed you, who was trotting around at the party in a small small mini skirt with a hunky belt clearly from the 2000s and a pathetic excuse of a pink tube top covering the bare minimum of your breasts. Tan marks emphasizing the shape of your breasts. Your arm clung around that damned pogue JJ Maybanks’s arm. Body pushed obnoxiously up close against him. Rafe- while seeming relatively unbothered, was simmering with both jealousy and anger under the surface, and you knew it too. You saw the way his lips were in more of a line than usual and the way his jaw continuously clenched, and lastly lets not forget the way the veins in his arm were popping out more than they naturally did.

Rafe knew you were frustrated at him because he’s been busy with stuff, not being able to be at your beck and call as you pleased. Usually, you wouldn’t be too upset, and definitely wouldn’t pull this shit. Perhaps that silly little head of yours got too far ahead of itself because of Rafes softer behaviour as of late, as it does every once in a while, which always ends up with you in the same position: Draped over his lap on your stomach, shorts or pants long gone or in the instance you’re wearing a skirt, it’s pushed up. Panties pulled down just enough to expose your pretty pussy or completely torn off.

Which is your exact, current position. A loud smack echoing off the walls of the empty bed room and mixing with the background noise of blaring music and drunk college students. You jumped up in your spot on his thighs, whining into the mattress that you buried your head into. “‘M sorry-“ You said as Rafe’s hand ran soothingly around where he just smacked.

“Sorry?” He questioned before raising his hand and placing four consecutive slaps on each one of your ass cheeks, eliciting high pitched, pained squeaks to leave you as you clutched the sheets of the bed tighter. “‘Cause my pussy be saying a different story baby, s’it saying you liking this shit instead of feeling sorry.” He doubted your words as his hand moved down to run along your folds and down to the wet patch on his leg, all of the wetness your arousal. His middle finger rubbing tight, small circles on your clit. “Maybe since you still feel like lying to me i should just stop bringing you to all those Sabrina concerts, aye? what about that baby?”

You gasped at his harsh and threatening words, quickly shaking your head while using every ounce of resistance you had in you to not moan and prove his point. “No! please daddy, i mean it! s’i’ll never talk or touch JJ like that again! swear.” You begged and attempted to convince Rafe. You could feel his cock twitch in his shorts on your tummy, biting back a moan at the thought of his big cock that always splits you open, especially when he’s in a bad mood like this.

“Yeah? you promise?” He asked, soothing your ass with his hand still covered in your own arousal. You frantically nodded as you kicked your feet slightly, body relaxing a bit more at his soothing touch, somehow missing the underlying hint of mockery and planning that was present.

And suddenly Rafe was pulling your underwear up and skirt down. Smoothing the wrinkles of your skirt before he patted your behind. You looked up at Rafe confused as you sat up onto lap.

Rafe grinned at your confused expression, lifting you off his leg and to stand, him standing up after you. “Why you lookin at me like that baby? Said you were sorry so i stopped the punishment.” He said with faux confusion before adding in a lower tone: “Unless you were lying to me?” His tone held a hint of both mockery, amusement and completely laced with control.

You pouted slightly but shook your head no, not in the mood for an even harsher punishment just because you lied to him- and you couldn’t possibly risk your precious concert dates, “Good, then let’s go join the party yeah?” So you simply let him wrap an arm around your waist and pull you towards the door. grabbing his beer off the night stand. He took a swig and looked down at you. Big ass knowing grin on his face at your belief that you actually tricked him and your pout of disappointment. Ditzy lil you having no idea of what’ll happen when you twos get home alone <3

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2024 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours

⟡ ݁₊ . sorry for this being so late… love you anon love 💞

[syverse]

i depend on you // ft. katsuki bakugou

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

bakugou can't bring himself to hate you, even after you left

warnings&a/n: if this is bad LEAVE ME ALONE PLEASE!!! got suddenly verrrry inspired by that one drawing on tiktok and maybe i misinterpreted it in the writing but shoot me who cares. this is like my first time writing something and actually finishing it i get so discouraged and give up. if you hate this i will never do this again.

In his life, there's a lot of things that Bakugou hates. He hates simple and unavoidable things like the rain, and he hates specific things like people who rely on everybody around them. He hates weak people, hates getting up too early in the morning, hates being too involved in other people's lives if he doesn’t necessarily have to be. But, as he sits alone at his desk, forced to listen to the obnoxious and overbearing sounds of society in Tokyo despite how late it is, Bakugo can’t think of anything he hates more than you. 

He spent a lot of his life loving you. He loved things like your unwavering conviction to do the right thing, he loved the look in your eyes when you stole glances from each other during class dinner back when you were both in highschool, and loved the way you whispered his name like a prayer when it was just the two of you under the covers of your shared bed. It was hard at first, but as the two of you grew together, so did his love. He learned to love through the sound of your laughter and the feeling of your gentle hands intertwining with his. Nimble fingers pressing into the palms of his hands before flipping them over and placing feather-like kisses on his fingerprints, he tries to swallow the bile that claws its path up his throat.  

Along with the symphony of nightlife outside of his agency, he can also pick out the faint sound of a news reporter being broadcasted on a billboard next to his building. Pictures of your face are shown on the large screen, along with the headline “PRO HERO TURNED VILLAIN” and Bakugou holds his breath for as long as he can. His phone lay flat on his desk in front of him, buzzing every few seconds from concerned friends and family members, but the blonde doesn’t dare to touch it. It had been at least a week since your departure from his agency, and the news had spread to all of Japan at this point, but the news and media were still eating it alive as if they were starving. 

Bakugou’s eyes glue shut as he wishes for memories of you to disappear, and for the heavy dread in his gut to fizz up and die out. He curses himself for not picking up on it sooner, the fact that you would leave. Looking back on it, he’s pretty sure he could put his finger on the exact moment when you started to fade away. When the universe in your eyes started to blur each time you looked at him, when the sense behind your touch became hesitant instead of gentle, and when your cheeks no longer touched your eyes when you smiled. He should’ve said something. Should’ve done a lot of things to at least delay your disappearance, but Bakugo was familiar with the fact that he was never good with words, and the fact that his heart was bottomless with fear of him making it worse. 

Bakugou absolutely hates you for leaving him here. He hates that he can’t throw every single I love you that came out of his mouth into a little box and set it to ashes, hates that he has to go back to home and still smell you on his bedsheets, hates that even though you’ve made it clear that you’re never coming back, he still patiently waits with bated breath to hear you whisper his name again.  So, as Katsuki picks himself off of his desk and drags himself to the elevator to return back his house, his house where you don't live anymore, he tries to convince himself to forget you, and ignores the way his tongue instinctively traces the letters of your name on the roof of his mouth.

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙈𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙃𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙣𝙙*

Pairing: Changbin x Reader (GN)

Genre: Comfort?

Warnings: Slight mentions of depression and anxiety. That’s about it. Sorry for any mistakes

A/N: This has been in my idea folder for so freaking long! This was 100% inspired by “Must have been the wind by Alec Benjamin” such a good song! I hope yall enjoy this!

-🖤

Neither of you really knew each other. Only exchanging pleasantries as you passed by one another. Always a small waves and a smile. You’ve barely even said a few words to one another in the almost year living in the same building. You both keeping to yourselves.

He’s noticed in the past few days of seeing you that you don’t seem yourself. Or at least the small bit of yourself that he knew of. You have seemed really down lately. He even caught you wiping your tears away when he had stepped into the elevator as you got out. He wanted to ask if you were alright but you quickly left the elevator before he could.

His apartment was right above yours he could always hear you talking softly or listening to music. It made him almost calm hearing another person at times.

He hadn’t seen you leave today like normal. You both always leaving for work about the same time. When he had gotten back from work later than normal plopping on his bed he let out a sigh. The quietness becoming deafening around him. The quiet didn’t last long, soft sobs could be heard from below. He knew it was you, he wanted so badly to make sure you were alright. He didn’t know why he cared so much but he did. Maybe it was the way your smile brightened his day. Or the way he secretly hopes to see you before work. You’ve become a daily joy in his life and to hear you crying made him upset.

He got up pacing back in forth wondering what he should do. Would it be weird to check in on you? After the back and forth in his mind he finally made it up. He was gonna check on you.

He knocked on your door, a thousand things running through his mind on what to say. When you finally answered he could see how red your eyes were. Tear stains still lingering on your flushed face. “Uh hi” he said nervously.

“Hi” you said softly back looking anywhere but his face.

“Listen I know we don’t know each other but I could.. hear you crying. Are you alright?” He stammered out.

“I- I uhm wasn’t crying.. must have.. been the wind or something” you lied.

He studied your face for a second knowing damn well that you were lying. You felt embarrassed. You didn’t like crying around anyone, feeling like a burden if you weren’t always just happy.

“Well if you want to talk I’m here” he said with a soft smile. His kind words really jabbing at you. Why was he being so nice? He didn’t know you, he didn’t have to come down. But he did. He came down to basically a total strangers place to see if they were ok. Just the pure sweetness of this made the tears flow again.

His eyes went wide his body moving before he could stop himself. He wrapped his arms around you as you cried making you sob even harder. He rubbed your back letting you get it all out. He pushed your door closed behind him, to make sure no one else would walk by.

“Ssh sh it’s alright, you’re alright” he said softly still rubbing your back. “Wanna go sit down? You can tell me all about what’s wrong if you want. No judgement. I’m here to listen” he said with that sweet smile you’ve grown fond of.

You nodded bringing him over to your couch. As you composed yourself you sighed softly. “Nothings really wrong, I mean.. it’s just..” you tried finding the words. “I have really bad depression and anxiety.. it’s just been really bad the last few days and it all just came crashing down today.” You admitted.

He listened taking your hand in his to comfort you a bit. “You still got up today though, you’re still here and that’s something to be proud of” he said.

His words comforted you even more, making you smile for the first time in a few days. He sounded so genuine.

“And I can knock another one off if you wanna” he said smiling. You looked at him a bit confused. “How about I treat you to some ice cream? Then you’ll have eaten today.. I guess it’s not food food but ice cream makes everything better” he says smiling even bigger.

“You don’t have to do that” you said.

“I know but I want to, plus means we can get to know each other more. Yeah?” He said hopeful.

“Alright” you said smiling at him.

You got yourself together wiping your face and putting on better clothes. “Oh hey, by the way, I’m changbin” he said.

“We really never introduced ourselves huh? I’m y/n” you said.

“Well y/n shall we get some ice cream?” He said putting his hand out.

“We shall.” You giggled.

After this day you both had become really close. Making movie nights and gaming nights. You both always hung out even just coming over to one another’s house to sit in comfortable silence. It was nice. Nice to have someone to talk, nice to have someone there that wouldn’t judge and just be there.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[jjscrybaby]

A request for JJ!!

I was thinking something kinda angst. So JJ hates the reader and she hates him. They both think each other has a great life and is jealous. But maybe one day on her usual bike ride around the cut, y/n sees JJ’s dad get aggressive with him and realises how JJ’s life is hard. But she doesn’t go to help because she was scared. Feeling bad that she didn’t help she wonders around and she goes home late which results in an argument with her mom. At that time JJ was doing a delivery with Pope and hears and sees everything and when y/n is outside walking around trying to calm herself down and distract from the pain she accidentally bumps into JJ and they have a talk.

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (luke maybank being an ass, reader’s mom is also an ass, overall just bad parents!)

not proofread and written at 6am so my bad if there’s any mistakes 🤗

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One of the main differences between you and JJ were your social status’. JJ came from the Cut, he grew up catching his own food, roaming the streets at the age of seven without a care in the world, stealing just to get by. You grew up on Figure Eight, you never had to lift a finger, your parents never had to worry about where their next pay check was coming from. He was jealous.

JJ grew up with freedom, with a group of friends he called his family, he never had to worry about grades or being perfect because no one cared if he was. You grew up with snobby rich kids as the only people you could hang out with, your mom dictated everything you did down to the clothes you’d wear to the mall, you felt embarrassed to even leave the house if your hair was slightly greasy. You were jealous.

You’d known JJ Maybank since you were a kid, you went to the same Elementary school and then over the years you’d see each other at parties or at the club where he worked. There wasn’t ever something that happened that gave you both a reason to hate the other, you just did.

Something your parents were definitely not aware of was the route you’d take on your weekly bike ride. You needed an escape from the ‘perfect’ life, so at least once a week you’d take your little pink bicycle and you’d ride around the Cut. You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to it in the first place, especially after the horror stories you’d grown up hearing, but you always felt calm when you rode around with your AirPods in.

It was about six o’clock, you were supposed to be home for dinner in an hour because your father had some clients coming over and you were wanted as well. You were about to head back home when the sound of yelling caught your attention. You turned round the corner, standing still at the end of the street.

“You smell like a damn bar!” It was JJ. You didn’t know he lived here, but then again why would you? You weren’t friends. There was an older man stumbling after him, following the blonde down the porch steps.

“Ain’t that rich comin’ from you?” The man, who you assumed was non other than Luke Maybank, snorted.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” JJ scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look at his dad.

“Means you ain’t better than me, kid. It’s in your blood, you’re a Maybank,” Luke mocked.

You could see JJ shake his head, a scowl on his face that was hiding the hurt he felt. “I’m nothin’ like you. And I never will be.”

“Say whatever you want, don’t make it true,” Luke shrugged, taking a sip from the beer that you hadn’t noticed was in his hand. “Where the fuck you goin’, anyways? Ain’t been home in weeks.”

Weeks? You had heard the stories about Luke, the robberies and the bar fights, but you didn’t think he’d treat his own son like this. He spoke to him as if he was a stranger, as if he couldn’t care less about him.

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t have bothered coming back at all,” JJ stated, turning to continue walking away. Luke grabbed his arm, yanking him back and holding him in place. “Get the fuck off me, man!”

“Gotta show some respect, Jay!” Luke yelled, making you flinch.

Why were the neighbours not coming out? Why hadn’t anyone done something about this? You felt sick, and you felt even worse when you got on your bike and rode away before you had to see how this ended.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“You alright?” JJ hated that question, especially when he knew why it was being asked. The shiner that he sported now. Pope looked at him sympathetically, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m fine. Ready to get some good tips,” JJ shrugged, taking the grocery bags from his hands. “Who orders food at eight o’clock?”

“Rich people,” Pope muttered. “Don’t lose any of that shit.“

“Yeah, yeah.”

JJ walked to your house, he knew it was yours from the last name above the slip of paper Pope had given him. He was starting to walk up the driveway when he heard the noise coming from the open front door.

“I told you to be here by seven! It’s half past!” Your mother exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

“I— I got held up, I’m sorry.” He’d never heard you sound so small. Usually, when the two of you got at each other’s throats at a Kegger, you’d stand your ground without a care in the world. It was one of the only things he respected about you.

“Held up with what?” Your mom scoffed. He could see through the cracks in the bushes that she was shaking her head, looking disappointed.

“It’s just dinner, mom. I don’t need to be here,” you tried to argue.

“Well, I’ve already told the Henderson’s that you aren’t home. So, therefore, you will not be home. Don’t come back until they’re gone,” she stated.

“What? Mom. I haven’t got anywhere to go,” you exclaimed, voice wavering.

The door closed in your face and you let out a shaky sigh. You’d been preoccupied, feeling guilty for not sticking up for JJ, so you’d gotten home a little later than planned. Was it really that big of a deal? Tears fell as you wandered back down your driveway, trying to think of where the hell you can go.

“Uh, hey.” You flinched in shock, turning to see JJ lurking by the bushes with two grocery bags.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked quietly.

“Delivery,” he explained.

“Right, well, I can’t take it,” you muttered. “Just go knock.”

“Wait there.” You weren’t sure why you did what he said, but it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You stood and waited, watching as he left the bags on your front door step and knocked before coming back; he didn’t even wait for a tip. “C’mon.”

The two of you walked through Figure Eight in silence, him puffing on his vape every now and then whilst you tried not to burst into tears. “I saw you and your dad, earlier.”

“What?” He turned to look at you in confusion.

“Outside your house.”

“Why were you outside my house?” He asked.

“I wasn’t, I just happened to be going past,” you explained. You bit your nails before speaking again, letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s an ass.”

Surprisingly, JJ let out a chuckle. He nodded his head. “Yeah, he is. So is your mom.” You giggled, agreeing with him. “Guess we both have shitty parents, huh?”

“Seems like it,” you shrugged. “Never thought we’d have something in common.”

“You know, my friend, John B, his house is sorta the hangout for kids with shitty parents. Did you want to… you could come over, until you can go back home,” JJ offered. He sounded anxious, as if he was asking you on a date.

You found yourself nodding your head, shyly smiling at him. “Yeah, just until I can go back home.”

You didn’t go home, instead you spent the night chatting shit about your mom with JJ whilst he rambled about his dad. You ended the night in his bed, laid on his chest as the two of you shared a joint. You didn’t feel so jealous anymore, and you were certain he didn’t either.

[quokkaholic]

Give Me Face l.f

Warnings: fluff, little angst, slightly suggestive, bi besties to ??, alcohol consumption, kissin and touchin, cussing duh

Synopsis: You have been really down lately, your best friend Felix notices and wants to go out to the club to snap you out of her slump. The club is filled with hot people and some jealousy ensues.

Song recommendation: MADRE by Young Miko and Villano Antillano

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

You’ve been rotting in bed all day and have no plan on moving for the rest of the night, that is, until you get a message out of the blue that Felix is on his way over. Flinging the covers off, you start frantically picking up the place. Your apartment is such a wreck you don’t even want your best friend to see it in this state, so instead of brushing your hair or changing the clothes you’ve been wearing for the past two days, you are shoving shit in your closet and shoddily loading the dishwasher. Before you even get the chance to pick up the food wrappers and takeout bags, Felix is opening the door with his spare key. He stands there in the doorway taking in the scene before tilting his head to the side and giving you a sympathetic look.

“Oh baby” he coos and closes the door behind him before opening his arms for a hug, and you immediately oblige. He mimics your tight squeeze as you nuzzle your face into his neck taking in his familiar scent: clean and floral with a touch of amber and musk.

“What are you doing here Lixie?”

“You’ve been slow to respond the past week and haven’t attended a single group hang in like a month. Come on girl, you think as your best friend I don’t know your signs that you’re down?”

You can’t help but grip tighter at his words. You are so lucky to have such a considerate and caring person as a best friend.

“Plus I have your location and saw you haven’t gone anywhere besides work and McDonalds in like 3 weeks. What's going on, babe?”

You spill your guts to him about problems at work and in your love life. Ever since you and your partner split 5 months ago, you have only had shitty dates and situationships, and the loneliness is now setting in. You know isolating yourself from your friends only makes the pain worse, but for some reason, it is just instinct when you start feeling bad to pull away. Luckily, Felix can always see through your bullshit.

“Y/nn, we need to get you out of this apartment. We need to get you out of your head too. Tonight we are going out! Don’t even try to fight me on this. Let's get ready.” He states, rushing back to your room. You follow quickly in toe, but when you get there, its too late, hes already pulling open your closet door.

“Felix no!” As the words leave your mouth, the mound of questionably clean clothes fall around his feet, and the room is filled with his sweet laughter and a few happy claps. You both rummage through your wardrobe looking for things to wear, trying on countless items making an even bigger mess than you began with. He lands on an outfit; after looking at himself in the full length mirror that hangs on the closet door, he turns to get your approval.

“How do I look?” He asks. You admire him for a moment. Felix looks so good in everything he wears, but there's something about seeing him in your clothes that makes your heart flutter.

“Honestly, cunt” He chuckles at your response then continues searching your drawers to help you with your look. His searching persists, tossing out options until finally finds what he’s been looking for, a sexy but elegant tank top you’ve had forever. With the shirt in hand, he strides over to where you sit on the bed surrounded by failed prospective outfits.

“I’ve always loved this one on you. Arms up” He instructs and slips the shirt over your head. You’ve always been comfortable around each other, being dressed by him just feels like second nature. There might’ve been some slight tension at first, but he has always so gracefully ridden the line between making you feel sexy and beautiful but also respected and appreciated. That is just one of the million reasons you love him. The love you feel for Felix is so deep, and your relationship is so special to you. You’re constantly pushing your romantic feelings down in the name of preserving what you have, too scared to take the risk of losing it. After pulling the shirt down and smoothing you the wrinkles, he offers you his hand to help you off the bed.

“Spin for me” he commands and you do just that. This wouldn’t be the first time you played dress up with him styling and you modeling for him.

“Stunning, y/n. Truly” He compliments, eyes raking over your form then landing intensely on your own. You don't give yourself time to feel the coyness rising up your spine, turning to your vanity and flicking on the light.

“Makeup time!”

You quickly style your hair in a way to keep it off your face and neck because you know you'll be sweating later and go to the kitchen to pour some pregame drinks for you both. You turn on some confidence boosting ‘feeling myself’ type of music and scoot next to Felix to share the mirror. Before starting your makeup, you order your ride to be there to pick you both up in an hour. You pass products back and forth and bounce along to the music occasionally using the brushes as microphones to sing along. He has already finished his makeup and is picking up clothes trying to undo the disaster you two created earlier.

“Lixie, will you do my eyeliner?”

He immediately drops what he was doing to aid you; his hands are gentle but firm as he cups your chin and tilts your head up. You feel your drink start to hit you as you hand him the black liner and stare up getting lost in the freckles peppering his cheekbones that he intentionally leaves uncovered and his sweet but alluring brown eyes.

“You gotta close your eyes, love” unable to think of an excuse, you just default to apologizing.

“Shit, sorry” You mumble as you lightly close your eyes so as to not create any creases giving him a smooth working surface. When you feel him lightly using his fingers to smudge the edges to match the smoky look of his own makeup, you know it’s safe to open your eyes again. When you do, you see Felix has lent down to get a closer look at his work. His eyes immediately snap to yours, and his smudging finger slowly drags down your cheek. It's as if you were both in a trance for a moment, and when you snap out of it simultaneously, you turn your head to look in the mirror and Felix shoots back up straight.

“I need another drink,” he says, heading back to the kitchen.

Your ride picks you guys up in front of your building, and drops you off not 10 minutes later at the club you and your friends used to frequent a few years ago. Felix is not a big club guy, really only going when you invite him, but when you do go out together, it is always a night to remember. Tonight was will be no exception.

The club is packed and bumping. Music blaring, lights flashing, and the smell of sweat and perfume think in the air. While you’re surrounded by strangers, the atmosphere is familiar and welcoming. You immediately open a tab at the counter close to the main dancefloor as that is where you plan to spend most of your night. It’s not that you need to be drunk in order to dance, but it definitely helps the “get out of your head” thing that Felix prescribed. You and Felix are quick to find a corner of the dancefloor to lay claim to and start dancing separately for now, but that won’t last. Felix gets very touchy when he drinks, yet another thing you love about him. You are both quick to down your drinks in order to free up your hands to dance. Taking the empty cup from your hand, he leaves you to toss them in the garbage with intent to return quickly. You dance by yourself for a minute, feeling the rhythm flow through you and bass thumping in your chest, arms raised in the air and occasionally caressing down your body in the most stereotypical club dance fashion.

A song or two later, you realize Felix hasn’t returned. It doesn’t take long scanning the crowd to find him still by the trash can being held there by a stunning creature of a man chatting and lightly brushing Felix’s arm with his hand. Felix is giggling at the man's words flashing his perfect pearly smile. The beat leaves your body and your movements slow coming to a halt for you to stare. Felix is such an angel in appearance and personality, it's surprising there isn’t a line forming to simply get a second of his time. While you feel that's what he deserves, you’re so glad it's just the one guy, but still, Felix is yours your best friend. This is your night with him.

When Felix’s eyes meet yours from across the room, his feet move without thinking carrying him to you while a genuine, playful grin spreads across his face biting his bottom lip. As he approaches, his steps become more rhythmic and he holds his hands out to you. Instead of remaining hand in hand to dance, he uses his grasp to spin you around, back to him. His hands grip your hips, and he helps you once again find the rhythm. Together, you start slow, rolling side to side on every other beat. Felix allows his hands to roam up and down your sides every now and again squeezing or sliding to your stomach to hold you back against him. When a faster tempo song comes on next, one of his hands slides up you back to rest on your shoulder, and he pulls you back into his chest and his lips graze the shell of your ear. You only get a few seconds to listen to his heavy breathing before you feel slight pressure pushing you to lean forward creating more direct contact of your ass on his front. Again his hands find your hips, this time less to guide you and more just to hold on as you grind back into him. You could’ve sworn you heard a groan that sounded a lot like Felix, but in the noisy environment, there's no way to be sure, and you sure as hell aren’t going to turn around to ask him.

This continues for a few songs, until the DJ turns plays a song neither of you are vibing to. You let Felix know you're going to run to the bathroom. Typically he would accompany you, but neither of you want to lose your spot. The line to the ladies room is surprisingly short, but the bathroom itself is unsurprisingly filthy. Two clogged toilets, a soapless hand rinse, and an obligatory drunk mirror selfie later you are ready to head back to Felix. Luckily you were prepared and brought your hand sanitizer with you. Trudging across the sticky floor and pushing through the building crowd, you finally make it back to the dance floor, but to your chagrin, someone is in your spot. An actual sex siren of a person is dancing next to Felix as they go back and forth speaking into each other ears behind cupped hands. Yet another party interested in your man. You're done being mad about it; you are ready to be sad about it, but instead of letting the rain clouds drown your fun, you decide its time for another drink. You find an empty spot to lean against the bar and wait for the bartender’s attention. When they finally approach, you graciously request another cocktail, but when they ask for the name on the tab the person next to you speaks up.

“Whatever she’s getting, put it on mine” The woman hands her card to the tender before turning to you.

“Are you sure?” you question, was your gloom written all over your face? She must’ve pitied you. She had been standing there the whole time, but you are just now noticing how handsome she is. She says nothing in response but holds eye contact and nods. Even if it was out of pity, you’ll always take a free drink. You thank her with a big grin.

“You have such a beautiful smile,” she says with a pleasant and sincere look. Oh. This isn't pity. She asks for your number; you maintain flirty banter waiting for your drinks, but once they arrive, you have to get back to Felix. This night is about spending time with your best friend not finding a rebound.

“You wanna dance?” She asks, gesturing back to the rolling crowd of bodies.

“Actually, I have to get ba…” You couldn’t finish refusing her offer as a hand grips the wrist of the hand not holding your new drink. Felix has his back to you dragging you back to the dancefloor. He forfeited your spot in order to steal you back. While you get pulled around, you chug your drink and toss the cup in a passing waste bin. When he finds an empty area, he stops and turns to you.

There is no playfulness left in his gaze, just a sultry glint as he drags his fingers across your collarbones and down your arm to your hand. Unlike the way he gripped your wrist, the way he intertwines your fingers can only be described as intimate. His touch is warm and bold as he spins around and raises your joined hands pulling you against his back. Just like he did to you earlier, you grip his waist and roll your hips with his. All inhibitions out the window. Your bodies moving as one, eyes closed, feeling his body on yours. The countless strangers fade away, and it's like it's just the two of you. Felix leans back into you dropping his head back onto your shoulder swaying his hips side to side. You think he’s saying something, but you can’t make out his words. You just let out a sound of agreement into his ear to appease him not wanting to stop dancing to try to figure it out. Despite your efforts to keep him grinding, Felix raises his head and turns to face you and throws his arms around your neck crossing his wrists in the back. You stand with your feet staggered with his to be as close as possible as you continue to dance together. Before you can really process, Felix is pressing his full and glossy lips to yours. His lips are salty from sweat but also sweet from his drink and lip oil and oh so rousing, causing your stomach to flip. Unlike other makeout sessions you’ve seen throughout the night, this one isn’t rough and needy, but passionate and sensual. The rhythm of the kiss matches the dance matches the song. You, again, are transported out of the club to somewhere just you and Felix can occupy made of your love and connection and desire. This isn’t the first time you’ve kissed Felix, but this kiss stands apart. It isn't the normal drunk kiss you share with your friends, it's so much more, fueled by fiery desire and years of longing. The kiss ends too soon as Felix leans his head on his upper arm that rests on your shoulder so his lips are inline with your ear. He whispers to you,

“Be mine y/n, please” He almost begs before placing a soft kiss to your earlobe and continuing,

“Be with me”

You don’t give a verbal answer but grab his flushed cheeks with both hands and peck his face with kisses before a final powerful one on the lips. Resting his forehead on yours, you’re both smiling so hard your cheek start to cramp. Thankfully, you both kept your drinking under control, perfectly walking the edge between tipsy and drunk, or you’d be scared this was an intoxicated dream or misremebrance. Felix already has his phone out ordering a ride to a nearby 24 hour diner to stave off your hangovers and chat about what the future has in store.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅

A.n- thanks for reading :) I’m posting this on my lunch break lol.

-mo🪩

Masterlist

[bamgyuuuri]

⤷ let me ┈ csb.

sypnosis. in which your husband, soobin, lovingly and happily takes charge while you're feeling under the weather, tending to you and the chores with unwavering determination that just makes you adore him even more.

pairings and tags. husband!soobin x sick!reader (f/m) . domestic fluff !!! soobin would be such a sweet husband im crying . "in sickness and in health." overall just soobin being extremely loving and soft i love him i miss him so bad . lmk if i missed any!!

word count. 3.5k

short note … since it won the poll, here is the fic as promised !!!! i hope i did not disappoint >_<

taglist! @pagelets @jettithink @killa-1009 @j-ji-jia <3

you woke up nestled in the comforting warmth of soobin's arms, his soft, steady breathing a lullaby you could listen to forever. the first thing your sleepy eyes met was his face, lips slightly parted, the morning sun brushing over the faint freckles on his cheeks. your heart swelled, a smile tugging at your lips as you gazed up at him.

soobin, to you, was everything.

you thought back to the time before you even started dating. there was a day in college when you’d been caught in a sudden downpour, completely drenched and shivering. soobin had been waiting by the bus stop with a small, flimsy umbrella that barely shielded him, but instead of covering himself, he rushed to you, wrapping his coat around your shoulders and holding the umbrella over you while he got soaked without a second thought. 

it wasn’t just that moment, though. it was the small things—like how he always showed up early to save you a seat in class, or brought you coffee during late-night study sessions. he never made a big deal out of it, but his care was always ever present, woven into every little gesture. 

you never had to ask; he just knew how to make you feel seen. and before you even realized it, he had slowly won your heart—not with grand gestures, but with his quiet, constant thoughtfulness.

and when you finally started dating, those moments became even more frequent.

once, you had a bad day and locked yourself in your apartment, not wanting to talk to anyone. but soobin wasn’t just anyone. he had quietly shown up with a bag of your favorite snacks, a playlist of calming songs, and a small bouquet of tulips just because. he didn’t push you to talk; he just sat on the floor beside you, his presence enough to make you feel like everything would be okay.

his quiet patience, his unwavering support… everything about soobin made it so easy to fall for him. and eventually, it wasn’t just about the small acts of kindness anymore—it was the way he looked at you, the way you fit so naturally together.

when he asked you to marry him, there was no grand speech or extravagant gesture, just him, holding your hand and asking simply, “will you let me take care of you forever?” and of course, you said yes, knowing you’d already been taken care of in ways words couldn’t fully express.

even after marriage, his sweetness didn’t fade, it simply blossomed. you remembered the time he stayed up all night perfecting a new cake recipe because he wanted to surprise you for your birthday. when you woke up, he was still in the kitchen, flour dusting his hair and the biggest, proudest smile on his face as he held out the finished cake.

there was also the way he’d dance with you, even when there was no music. one night, while washing dishes together, he’d taken your soapy hands in his and twirled you around the kitchen, humming softly. "every moment with you is worth celebrating," he’d say, laughing when you’d accidentally flicked soap bubbles onto his shirt.

even in the smallest gestures, soobin’s love shone through. the way he would quietly refill your water bottle without you asking. the way he’d text you good morning, even when you were sitting in the same house, just because he wanted you to wake up to something sweet. the way he’d hold your hand in crowded places, not just to guide you but to let you know he was always there.

and now, lying here in his arms, you felt all of that love wrapped around you, unspoken but so deeply felt.

a tickle in your throat turned into a sharp, sudden cough, shattering the peaceful stillness of the morning. soobin stirred almost immediately, his arms tightening around you as if to shield you from whatever discomfort you were feeling.

“you okay?” his voice was groggy yet soft, tinged with a concern that made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the cough. he blinked a few times, his dark eyes finding yours. even half-asleep, his worry was evident in the way his brow creased slightly and his lips pressed into a thin line.

you nodded weakly, but the rasp in your breath betrayed you. his hand gently cupped your cheek, the warmth of his palm soothing against your slightly fevered skin. his thumb brushed over your temple with a tenderness that made you want to melt into him.

“you don’t look so good,” he murmured, his voice dropping even softer, as though speaking louder might hurt you more. before you could respond, he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there as if gauging your temperature. his lips were warm, comforting, and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch, even as another cough forced its way out.

that was all it took for soobin to make up his mind. “stay here,” he said firmly, yet so gently that it felt like a request more than a command. “don’t move, okay?”

you tried to protest, your voice barely above a whisper. “soobin, it’s just—”

“shh,” he cut you off softly, already shifting to sit up. his movements were unhurried, careful not to jostle you as he pulled the blanket up snugly around your shoulders. “let me take care of you.”

as he stood and moved toward the door, a sudden thought made your heart clench. “but what about work?” you croaked, your voice still hoarse. “you’ll be late, or… you might miss it entirely.”

he paused, turning back to look at you with a soft, reassuring smile. “you’re more important,” he said simply, his voice steady but kind. “work can wait. you can’t.”

“but soobin—”

“ah, ah, ah, no buts,” he interrupted gently, walking back over to press another kiss to your forehead. “they’ll understand. i’ll call in later, but right now, you need me.”

from the bed, you could hear him in the kitchen. the clinking of dishes, the soft whoosh of the kettle being set to boil, and, faintly, his voice humming a familiar tune. you smiled to yourself despite the ache in your chest. he always hummed when he was focused, the melody wrapping itself around you like a blanket even from afar.

a few moments later, he returned with a tray balanced carefully in his hands. there was a steaming mug of tea, the golden liquid swirling with honey and lemon. beside it, a plate of toast cut into neat triangles, butter glistening under the soft morning light.

“this should help,” he said, setting the tray down gently on the bedside table. he sat beside you, lifting the tea to your hands with care. “small sips,” he reminded you, his eyes watching you as you brought the mug to your lips.

the warmth of the tea soothed your throat almost immediately, but what truly comforted you was soobin—his hand resting lightly on your knee, his thumb drawing soft circles as if to wordlessly assure you he was right there.

“binnie… you really don’t have to do all this,” you murmured, your voice still hoarse but filled with gratitude.

he shook his head, his sweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “of course i do,” he replied softly, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you’d do the same for me, wouldn’t you?”

you nodded, your chest tightening for a different reason now.

“then let me,” he whispers as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head, his voice so gentle it made tears sting at the corners of your eyes.

once soobin saw that you were all settled, he stretched his arms dramatically above his head, letting out an exaggerated grunt. he even wobbled slightly as he bent down to touch his toes, pretending to warm up like he was about to run a marathon. it was the kind of goofy, over-the-top thing he did to make you laugh, and it worked every time.

“alright, you stay put,” he said with a cheeky grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “i’ve got this. you just relax and let me handle it all.”

you opened your mouth to protest, your voice still weak but insistent. “soob, it’s just a silly little cough… really, i can handle housework just fine...” 

he shook his head, his expression softening with a mixture of affection and determination. “i know it’s just a cough, but you need rest. i’m taking care of everything today. you just relax.”

you sighed, knowing full well that once soobin had his mind set on something, there was no changing it. you tried to argue again, but he raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.

“you don’t want me to do the chores? fine,” he teased, his tone playful as he pretended to be hurt. “i guess i could just leave the dusting for tomorrow…”

you rolled your eyes, unable to keep the smile from spreading across your face. “fine,” you relented, your voice barely above a whisper. “but don’t overdo it, okay?”

soobin’s smile was nothing short of triumphant as he nodded eagerly. “you’ve got my word.”

and with that, he was off.

 

you heard the soft sound of him moving through the house, dusting the shelves with careful precision. he hummed as he worked, the familiar tune of his favorite indie song floating through the air, soothing you even more.

 

your two little kids—your cats—followed him around, meowing at his feet, clearly expecting attention. soobin chuckled softly to himself, the sound light and warm as he picked up both of them in turn, cradling them like toddlers.

“alright, you two,” soobin said with a soft laugh, walking carefully between the rooms. “time for a nap, okay? you’re getting all worked up again.”

he gently placed them down beside you, their little paws twitching as they settled in, curling up as if they were true children seeking attention. you smiled as they nuzzled against your side, purring contentedly while soobin returned to his chores.

he continued on, sweeping the floor, carefully wiping down countertops, and even cleaning up the mess your darling little cats left everywhere. his movements were precise, methodical, yet there was an ease to it all. he was a man who took pride in every little task, no matter how mundane.

after a while, he returned to the kitchen, his steps light as he prepared lunch. he didn’t need to ask, for he knew exactly what you needed. he made the warm broth you loved, the one you’d often have when you weren’t feeling well. it simmered on the stove, the scent of herbs and chicken filling the air.

soobin soon returned to you with a steaming bowl, his smile was gentle, full of care. he was also holding a tablet in hand, which he placed on the bedside table for you to take after your lunch. “here, nice and warm, just for you.”

he handed you the bowl, settling beside you once more. the cats, now calm and settled by your feet, purred in contentment. the way they curled around each other almost made them seem like the perfect little "children" you both doted on.

as you took a sip of the warm broth, a deep sense of gratitude filled you. even in the smallest, quietest moments, soobin’s love was so apparent—always steady, always there.

“thank you, binnie” you murmured, your voice hoarse but filled with affection.

soobin’s smile softened, and he brushed his hand gently through your hair. “it’s nothing,” he said, his voice tender. “just doing what i love.”

after gently helping you take your medicine, soobin returned to tending after the house. he moved from room to room with determination, ready to tackle whatever chore came his way.

 

first, he decided to take care of the plants. you could always count on him to be gentle with them, but today, he took it to a whole new level. as he was watering the potted plants, he accidentally knocked one over, sending soil spilling across the table.

“oh no, not the fern...” he said, his voice tinged with mock horror as he scrambled to pick up the pot. he carefully rearranged the plant, giving it an exaggerated pat as if apologizing to it.

"it's okay, buddy," he muttered, making sure it was safely back on the table, though there was a little dirt left on the floor.

undeterred, he grabbed a small broom and dustpan, sweeping up the mess. but he made it look like he was in an intense, slow-motion cleaning sequence, taking far too long to make sure every speck of dirt was picked up.

next, he ventured into the bathroom. when he spotted the towels hanging on the rack, he figured it was time to fold them. but as he attempted to fold them neatly, one towel stubbornly refused to cooperate, rolling itself back into a lumpy mess. soobin blinked at it, his lips pressing into a small pout as he tried to fold it again, then again, until it finally resembled something close to presentable.

in the kitchen, he tackled the countertop, wiping it down with diligent care. however, when he reached for the dish soap, he accidentally knocked over a bottle of oil instead, and it spilled across the counter.

“heol…” he mutters, grabbing a rag to clean it up. his face lit up with pride once the counter was clean again, but there was a lingering olive oil smell. “well, at least it’s fragrant now,” he says, as if trying to convince himself it wasn’t a disaster.

after that, soobin moved to the laundry room, taking on the task of sorting clothes. he’d decided to separate them into colors and whites, but when he realized he had no idea which items went into which pile, he just picked everything up and threw it all into the washer.

“who needs to sort, anyway?” he joked to himself, before realizing halfway through that he’d thrown in a delicate sweater that definitely needed hand-washing.

"uh… that's my bad," he said with a sheepish grin, pulling the sweater out and hanging it carefully, making sure it wouldn’t get ruined.

as the day wore on, the house grew more and more spotless, the scent of freshly mopped floors and laundry detergent filling the air, while soobin’s gentle movements and soft hums of satisfaction seemed to add a sense of warmth to every corner he touched.

but as the clock ticked on, you found yourself growing more and more restless in your spot on the bed. you appreciated everything soobin was doing, you really did, but there was something you were craving more than anything else—a moment with him.

after hours of him tirelessly working through the house, you decided it was time to speak up. pulling yourself out of your cozy cocoon, you made your way into the living room, arms crossed as you looked at him, who was bent over, sorting through a pile of papers he had found while organizing.

“binnie,” you called out, your voice teasing but full of affection.

he glanced up, his eyes immediately softening when he saw you. “hey, are you feeling okay? you shouldn’t be out of bed yet,” he said, immediately stepping toward you with concern.

you couldn’t help but smile at how sweet and protective he was, but you had a point to make. “i told you not to overdo it,” you complained softly, folding your arms.

soobin chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he realized just how much he’d been absorbed in his chores. "i'm sorry," he murmured, a tender look of embarrassment flashing across his face. "i didn’t mean to overdo it. i just… i wanted to make sure everything was perfect for you."

you couldn’t help but smile at how endearing he was. there was no way to stay upset when he looked at you like that. your heart softened, feeling the weight of his love even in his simplest actions. "you’re too adorable," you whispered, shaking your head with a laugh.

with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine, he reached for you, his hands gentle yet firm as he pulled you close. his touch was like a quiet promise, full of care and tenderness. you rested your head against his chest as his arms wrapped around you, feeling the soft rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek.

soobin then cups your cheeks, leaning down to kiss your forehead with a delicate reverence, then moved to your nose, where his lips lingered just a moment longer than usual. his kisses were a silent declaration of his affection, a soft rhythm that carried his love in the most unspoken way. his lips moved to your cheeks, brushing them with a warmth that felt like home. and finally, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips—slow, tender, like he was savoring the very moment he had you in his arms.

when he pulled back, his eyes met yours, shining with sweetness and an almost shy glow. “i hope my work was up to your standards,” he whispers, words laced with gentle affection.

you smiled softly at him, the warmth of his presence settling deep in your chest. but before you could respond, he lifted you effortlessly into his arms, the motion so smooth it almost seemed choreographed. you let out a surprised yelp, but your laughter quickly followed.

“soobin!” you protested lightly, clinging to him for balance, your heart racing with both surprise and affection. “what are you doing?”

his laugh was soft, full of endearment, as he gently placed you on the kitchen counter. “just wait here,” he said with a wink, his voice carrying a playful edge. “i’ll make you something special, then we can finally have some time together, yeah?”

you watched him as he moved around the kitchen, his movements fluid and precise. he was focused, yet there was a softness to the way he handled everything, as if every gesture, every action, was made with you in mind. he hummed quietly to himself as he prepared ingredients, his eyes flitting from the counter to you, ensuring you were comfortable in your spot.

soon enough, he set a steaming bowl of soup in front of you, the aroma of the broth wrapping around you like a soft embrace. it was warm, comforting, and you could tell it had been made with love. as you took the first sip, it was as if all the tension in your body melted away, the soothing warmth filling your throat and spreading down to your toes.

soobin watched you with soft eyes as you savored the meal, his gaze never leaving your face. after a moment, he spoke up, his voice soft and gentle. “how are you feeling now?” his eyes searched yours, filled with concern and affection.

you smiled at him, feeling the warmth of the food and the comfort of his presence settle deep into your chest. “i’m feeling much better now,” you reassured him, your voice still a little hoarse but full of sincerity. “all thanks to you.”

he smiled back at you, a small blush tinting his cheeks at the praise, though he seemed almost embarrassed by it. "i’m just glad you're feeling better," he murmurs, but you could see the way his heart warmed at your words, his love for you clear in the way his eyes softened even more.

as you ate together, the conversation flowed effortlessly, as it always did between the two of you. there was an ease to the way you spoke, a shared rhythm that made even the quiet moments feel intimate. and as you listened to him speak, you couldn't help but marvel at how deeply he loved you, how sweet and shy he could be, and how much effort he put into making you happy.

your gaze lingered on him, your heart swelling with fondness. your dear soobin, who was everything you ever needed. the way he was always there for you, the way he cared for you in every little way, from cooking your favorite meals to being there when you needed someone to listen. your dear soobin, who was a quiet force of love and tenderness, who never hesitated to do whatever it took to make sure you felt cherished.

your dear soobin, the man who never left your side, who took care of you even when you didn't ask. your dear soobin, the one who always managed to make you laugh with his shy, goofy nature. the one who couldn't take the subway alone without getting nervous, but whose heart was brimming with so much love for you and everyone around him that it never failed to make you feel safe and adored.

your dear soobin, who you knew had always wanted build a family, to create a life full of love and laughter.

you watched him closely, your heart swelling with love and something else—something deeper.

your dear soobin, always giving, always gentle. and so, tonight... you wanted to give him something in return.

leaning in slightly, you whispered, “what do you say we make tonight… unforgettable?”

soobin’s lips curls into a soft, knowing smile. “you know i can never say no to you.”

[inkyquince]

It was just another shit day. A shit day stalked by a shit night. Bailey couldn't remember the last time he just existed, instead of just dragging himself place to place, trying to make money and not go insane while he did it. It was hard though.

cw. bitch stripper reader. rough sex, power bottom reader. violent bailey who doesn't give a fuck about sex workers. sex with no feelings outside of awe and hate. younger bailey. forced semi-submissive bailey but he's still a fucking asshole.

characters. bailey the caretaker. gn reader.

notes. happy new year. two days after my job laid off everyone who recently joined, i write about bailey being paycheck to paycheck and dominated by a stripper. excellent.

Half a year ago, the caretaker had thrown him out on his ass, with barely enough time to grab any of his shit. To be fair, he didn't have much anyway. He had to couch hop with his shit friends to start with, then made a bit more money to stay at the hotel. One shit hand trying to gamble with the guys with silver spoons shoved up their asses, and he was down most of his money. Lately he had just started living out of a car he stole. It hurt his back, he was always cold, but he had to just get through it. Then he'd buy a gun and shoot the old bastard in the gut. Not that he was harboring a grudge.

But right now, he had to ignore the sore throb of his lower back in favor of watching the strippers, sighing through his nose. The club paid like shit but the brothel didn't even want bouncers, no matter how many times he tried to talk Briar into paying him to be some muscle, at least for a little while. It was either this or bar-tend at the pub, and he didn't have the patience not to backhand a bitch for grabbing his ass. Funny that he was being paid to stop that from happening with the dancers.

Small mercies, Bailey wasn't one. His back was already hurting and trying to imagine pulling off those moves, twirling around the pole... Just the thought made his knees hurt.

Speaking of... There was a drunk guy who was two shots away from slobbering on your shoes. Or throwing up. Either way, you'd give him an earful about it.

Bitch.

Bailey never pretended he was likeable. His friends came from mutual interest in fucking others over, being a heavy hitter at the orphanage, or just a way to try and get in their pants. None of this came from him being a joy to be around. Didn't mean you got to have a fuckin' attitude towards him. The other dancers avoided him, or tried to bribe him to look the other way when taking customers around the back, which always worked. He never said no to an extra couple of quid, he wasn't an idiot.

But you didn't even give him the time of day, as if you weren't stripping for money, and he was your protection from being yanked off the pole and onto a cock. When Bailey was having a shit day, he wanted nothing more to smack some sense into you, make it clear that you might be a favourite in here, but out on the streets? He was a few drinks from grabbing your neck from behind and forcing you into an alley, pimp you out and leave you in the gutter... But he'd get fired. Yeah.

Also you weren't bad to look at. Probably his favourite to keep an eye on, as long as you kept your mouth shut and continued to work yourself against the pole. Always wearing skimpy clothes that left little to the imagination but you still got people to see under what was hiding under it all. It would almost make him forgive you for getting him a bit heated beneath the belt, just like the married men and giggling bachelorette parties that watched you dance.

His tired eyes slowly dragged themselves from you for just a moment, checking on the other dancers, before lingering at the bar. One of the younger years he'd push around at school was there, pouring drinks. It was a popular rumor that one of the teachers, Leighton, had a hard on for him. Bailey mulled over going over and seeing if any coins would roll out of his pockets if he shook him, when there was a shout of anger.

He looked back, just in time to see you smash your heel into the nose of the drunk, his fingers still tangled in your underwear and trying to yank even more of the fabric down. Bailey got a delicious glance at your ass before his fist made contact with the guy's stomach. Drunk-Fuck doubled over with a groan, blood dripping from his face, before throwing up just inches from Bailey's shoes. He'd have gotten a knee to the balls if he got any vomit on them, they were his last good pair. Instead he just grabbed the back of the guy's shirt and wrenched him back upwards. He turned to look up at you, trying to fix your outfit, and motioned sharply for you to get off the stage and take 5. As per the rules. You scowled, but stomped off and he did the same, dragging Drunk-Fuck out the side door and throwing him into a particularly brown puddle.

He went back to his place against the wall, crossed arms and scowls. People were less rowdy and tipped a bit more under his eagle eyes. You eventually came back, brushing by him and slipping him a note with a... Smile. Immediately put him on edge. You were probably aiming to get him fired for not being quick enough, he decided as he unfolded the paper.

Meet me after my shift in the back :}

Yeah. He didn't feel good about that. Maybe you'd mace him for fun. Not the first time it's happened, and Harper's nose was still crooked from Bailey's opinion of when it happened. Still burned that that deeply unemployable fuck was somehow an intern while he was here, waiting with his bloodied fist stuffed into his jeans, waiting for you to collect the last of your tips from the floor.

"Hey, hero." Your voice, usually disdainful and uninterested, was now soft, more of a purr. You hadn't even changed out of your outfit, chest still bare and shorts unbuttoned to show a flash of shaved pubic bone. A part of him wished in a flash that you threw out all of your waxing supplies, and he had to quash that thought instantly. His routine jerk off sessions in his car after work were bad enough without thoughts of you going unshaved for once. Worse, you hadn't even showered yet, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on your skin. You looked good and Bailey fucking hated you.

"What you want?" His palms felt kinda sweaty in his jeans. His trousers in general was feeling a bit too warm right now. The club didn't believe in air conditioning apparently.

"Awh, B, don't be sour." You smirked at him and stepped closer. You smelt good. Of sweat.

Jesus, he was going insane. Maybe watching so much porn of plastic looking men and women had broken his brain and now he was turning into the kind of guy who would huff dirty underwear to get a kick. He didn't like people as a rule, so that would be a pain in the ass if it was true.

"I just thought I would reward my knight in shining armor." You grinned up at him, resting a hand on his chest and roughly shoving him backwards, onto the one desk that had a computer on it, nearly sending it toppling to the floor.

"What the fu-" Bailey gripped the edge of the table, trying to push himself up but froze at the feeling of your fingers undoing his belt. "I don't-"

"Oh, is Big Bad Bailey scared? Don't wike bweaking the rules?" You faux-pouted at him, talking in a lisp before smirking again. "Or are you a virgin? Never had your dick touched before?"

You didn't wait for an answer, not that you would have cared. Instead, you slipped his half hard cock out of his underwear, the traitor twitching in your soft palm. You obviously felt it, giving it a few appreciative strokes until it was fully hard, and worse, leaking.

"Just... Hurry up." Bailey finally grunted, wanting to grab you by the throat. "Don't want anyone to come in and see you mouthing at my dick."

"Ew." You crinkled your nose before laughing. "Oh, god no, I don't do that. Fuck no."

You shimmied out of your shorts, finally bearing all to him. Not like he hadn't seen you nude while dancing, but it was different, now knowing apparently you didn't suck dick and was going to make him cum. Instead of dropping to your knees, you shoved him further back against the desk, and straddled his thighs, effectively trapping him like a bug.

"Hey-"

"Oh shut up. You're so hot when your mouth is shut." You sighed, rolling your eyes. "I'm trying to thank you, stop fussing."

The back of his neck prickled with sweat, feeling too hot. It was like if you were telling him off for being a difficult child or something! As if he didn't pay taxes, which he didn't do anyway, but he did it on purpose these days.

Before he could spend any more time thinking about grabbing you by the throat to pin you down and lecturing you on respecting him as a man, you were already sinking down on his throbbing cock. Fuck.

You had prepared yourself before coming to see him. The push inside was smooth, wet and warm. Bailey wanted snark about your thanks not including foreplay, but all that came out was a strangled groan. You only smiled in response, pressing your hands against his chest for leverage before beginning to bounce on his cock. You controlled it all, keeping one hand curled into his shirt, with your legs clamped down. He hated to say it but fuck, you looked good. Soft sighs from your parted lips, eyes closed as you worked his dick as good as your pole dancing promised, pulling out till just the head stayed inside before slamming down. Bailey couldn't stop the groans slipping free, even as he bit down on his bottom lip hard enough to bleed.

It was uncomfortable, the wood of the desk digging into his back, the fuck-ass old mouse and keyboard digging into his bared thighs, his lower half rocked into hazy pleasure that had his fucking toes curling.

"There you go." You exhaled, refusing to slow down, the feeling of his cock being ruined sinking in as you moved. "Deserve a treat after being such a sweetheart, don't you?"

Bailey might or might not have nodded at that, his head was swimming too much to know. All he did know was he needed to give as good as it got, and began to thrust up into you, enjoying the hitch in your breath, feeling your legs loosen their clamp against his as you began to let yourself bounce instead of riding him. He didn't even notice you going to grab his hand and bringing it up to your lips, pink tongue slipping out to lap at his bloodied knuckles. The taste just got you more excited, the two of you neglecting everything else but desperately grinding into each other.

"You like that?" He finally managed, his bottom lip bitten to fuck, watching you tongue his scratched up skin. "You'll whore yourself out to me every time I lay someone out?" He barked out a near laugh, which was more of a moan.

For the first time, probably ever, you didn't reply, just pressed his middle finger into your mouth and began to suck the digit, eyes rolling back as you tightened around Bailey.

He hated the fact he came first, just when you were mid bounce, and with just his head snug inside of you. Most of it dribbled out immediately, coating the crotch of his trousers, probably ruining the desk underneath the two of you, but you didn't even stop. No, you weren't the type to care about his overstimulated dick when you hadn't even cum yet. He couldn't even grip your hips to make you stop, he was so fuckin useless after his cock was worked so thoroughly.

No, you came just minutes later and slipped free of him. Used his underwear to wipe yourself clean too, bitch. You smiled over at him, sweat glistening on your bottom lip, and Bailey, horrifically, thought about licking it off.

"See how nice I am when you're a gentleman." You cooed before pulling your shorts back up and leaving him in a cum drunk daze.

Next time, he swore as he stuffed his underwear into his back pocket and hitched his trousers up, chafing his soft cock, he was going to fucking own you. Maybe throw some people out so you're all sweet to him.

He lit a cigarette as he stepped out, feeling his sheen of sweat dry up in the cold air and wondered if Briar took referrals.

[slay00ryu]

Over And Over Again.

Ronin x reader, angst, let's bring Ronin pain :p

Trigger warning: suicide, spoilers for KC and maybe Gluttony Gods.

Ronin for the longest time knew that looking for Ther in you was pointless, you were two different people and he wanted to let you be your own person, even if sometimes he caught himself looking at you as if you were them. He loved you for being yourself, even if his version was fucked up and destructive in a way, he wanted to free you, free you of whatever was troubling you.

Yet, nowadays the lines between you and Ther became blurry, you were colder, you looked and acted differently. Ronin started to notice how your mental health began to worsen, how you would avoid eating, how you cared so much about your reputation you were willing to try to kick him out of your life, just to pull him back, crying about how tired you were. He saw it all, still he thought that his help was enough, that the love he gave you, the change he brought you, it would be enough to turn you back into yourself.

One night, when you were staying at Ronin's house, he woke up in the middle of the night. You weren't there. It made him feel uneasy and uncomfortable. He had this voice in his head, a voice he desperately tried to push away.

What if you're trying to leave him just like Ther did?

He pushed these thoughts away, but with every room he checked the voice grew louder. You weren't anywhere in his house, not even outside of it. His hands were shaking.

"Where the fuck are you Y/N?" He murmured to himself, sitting by his desk. He could track your phone, that was what he was doing. Searching for your phone, desperately hoping that you had it with you.

He located it. He clenched his hands in fists when he saw what kind of place you were in. A church. An old church that wasn't used in ages. His stomach twisted and his heart rate paced up. It's just a coincidence, you just felt adventurous. Yeah, that has to be it, there's no way he will find you...

He stepped into the church, it was in a worse state than he imagined. Broken and devastated furniture, graffiti everywhere, only the altar seemed somewhat clean. That altar... It was pulling Ronin towards itself, he was in a trance.

His mind was racing with thoughts, worries and fear. His body felt weak, his legs didn't want to move any closer. But it was too late.

In the middle of the altar, your body was laying on the floor, you looked like you were asleep, only with your neck cut open and a knife in your hand. You chose to slit your throat open, to kill yourself by choking on your own blood. It must've been a beautiful yet painful death.

Ronin immediately knelt next to your body, taking it in his arms, holding onto it desperately. "Fuck, fuck why. Y/N. Why the fuck would you do this!?" He was shouting, his hold on your body was so tight he could break your bones if he wasn't careful. He was crying, laughing, screaming. He wasn't sure of what he was supposed to do now, with you dead in his arms. So he begged, begged that you opened your eyes and said that it was just a nightmare.

If only this could be a dream.

"Ro..." Angel whispered as she hugged Ronin from behind. They were standing behind the church, a freshly buried grave in front of them.

You are in that grave.

Ronin looked at the dirt, clenching his hand around a heart, your heart.

"I promised you, didn't I? Your heart will be mine forever." He tried to ignore the burning feelings in his heart. The feeling of guilt.

He wasn't guilty about your death.

No, he was devastated that you slipped from his grasp and stripped him of his control.

"Ronin... Are... How... You don't have to pretend to be taught here." Angel tried her best to comfort him, but it was hard when she also lost a friend whose heart was in her best friend's hand.

"What do you expect me to say Maria? That I fucking feel bad because I wasn't holding them? I wasn't holding their body Angel, I was fucking holding Ther!"

That was the centre of his guilt. The fact that he didn't see you, he saw Ther. He felt like he was replaying their death in his mind, replaying his actions.

"And now? They're probably laughing at me, both of them. Seeing how pathetic I fucking am, forever bound to Ther."

First, the Devil lost his Lilith, now he lost an Eve. Both haunting him in his nightmares and the shadows of his mind.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 23 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

TW for this chapters : Violence, blood, vomit. Be careful to what you read not to put yourself in a bad mood. Take care of yourself. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I hope you'll enjoyed the chapters ! Don't hesitate to tell me what you think about it, please ! Also, I am apologizing again for the late. 

I have exams coming so I think I will not be able to post more than once a week but I will try my best ! The next chapter or chapters will be out on Friday, January 10 ! 

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Love you all ! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Chapter 23

After what seemed like long minutes, Luxiana was finally regaining sensation and control over her senses. "That was incredible," she managed to articulate in a tired voice even inside her skull.

The smiles of the three Illyrians reappeared as they cast tender glances at her. "I want to do it again," she added suddenly with a cute pout. The dark-haired Illyrians lost their smile. Azriel grunted through clenched teeth. He thought she was perfect. Cassian looked up at the ceilling, trying to keep his excitement from exploding. But Rhysand didn't even try to stop what he felt, way too much aroused by what just happened with their mate. He got to his feet, dragging Luxiana with him.

He wanted to wear her, but he couldn't. Not here, not in front of these Fae. If they suspected that he liked Luxiana, they might come after her, and she was only a fragile human. He didn't want to take that risk. He placed her gently on her feet. "Can you walk?" he asked her worriedly.

Luxiana nodded with a gentle smile.

"Great," added Cassian with a seductive air but rapid breathing, "because we're going to have to run to a room so we can make you something a little more... better."

Azriel grabbed Luxiana by the hand to pull her towards the door, and Rhysand and Cassian followed. "We have to leave," Rhys simply justified to the Fae present and to Mor's father.

Keir, feeling unrespected, wasted no time in replying with a grimace of disgust aimed at Rhys. "I didn't expect anything else anyway, you seemed to have a pronounced taste for fucking instead of taking care of your court like the whore you are."

The four of them froze a few steps in front of Mor's father.

Azriel and Cassian were boiling with anger. How dare that filthy rat talk about their brother like that after he had sacrificed himself to save his court. Cassian took a threatening step towards Keir, ready to fight, but Rhysand raised his hand to stop him.

The high lord, though electrocuted t by a mixture of anger, guilt and bad memories tried to keep a cool head. "Let's calm down, it's nothing. It doesn't matter, we mustn't let them understand that it does," he thought to calm them.

Cassian didn't move any further, although he was dying to. Rhysand gave Keir a dark look of warning. "That's because this court isn't worth it. But don't forget who you're talking to Keir, next time you open your mouth without permission, I'll shut it."

Keir gritted his teeth but nodded in resignation before lowering his head.

Rhysand moved to get around him, but Luxiana grabbed him by the arm to stop him. Rhysand turned to face her. Her eyes were wide and her brows furrowed, but a burning rage smoked inside her pupils with such violence that the three Illyrians recoiled at the sight. "Aren't you going to do anything? Are you going to let him talk to you like that?" she asked, almost shouting into Rhys's head.

Rhysant was at first pleased for a second that she felt such anger for him before pulling himself together and replying. "It doesn't matter."

Luxiana released him, dropping her arm limply to her side and lifting her chin. "It does to me." Rhysand widened his eyes but had no time to say anything as Luxiana added, "I guess I'll have to do something myself then."

Without anyone being able to do anything about it, and with lightning speed, Luxiana grabbed Truth Teller out of his scabbard on Azriel's thigh. Then, in the blink of an eye, she stood in front of Keir to thrust her hand into his mouth, grab his tongue, pull it out and slice it at the base with a sharp, precise stab.

Mor's father - who had barely had time to take a step backwards and raise his hands to stop Luxiana - widened his eyes, screaming his head off in pain as he fell to his knees on the floor.

The three Illyrians hiccupped in surprise as they reflexively took a step forward towards Luxiana to protect her, but stopped mid-stride, opening their mouths and eyes wide. They were paralyzed with shock as their pupils focused on their mate, who held Keir's tongue at the top of her fingertips.

A general exclamation of surprise went up in the assembly of Fae, most of whom were clapping their hands over their mouths in fright.

What Luxiana thought was Mor's mother ran closer, shouting Keir's name. Luxiana raised the knife towards her, giving her a cold, creepy look that immobilized the fae from head to toe. "Come any closer and I'll cut your tongue out next."

Mor's mother cast a horrified glance at Rhysand. "Are you going to let her do this?

Rhysand didn't even calculate her, far too surprised by his soulmate's cold, psychopathic expression. He'd never seen her like this and he hadn't even considered for a second that she could do this. Their sweet Luxiana. He blinked several times to compose himself, but the blonde moved.

She tilted her head with a smile, making her look even crazier. "Who do you think gave me the order to do this? I'm only the executor of your lord's orders. So the next time, chew your words before you disrespect Rhysand." Another hiccup of surprise echoed through the room.

The three Illyrians, if that was possible, widened their eyes even more. She'd just said Rhys was controlling her. She was doing all this to save his honor. They couldn't believe it. They couldn't even think straight.

Luxiana laughed wildly. "By the way," she leaned forward towards Keir to run her index and middle fingers under his chin in an attempt to raise his head. The fae glared darkly at her first, then became white as he saw the cold pupils filled with power of the blonde. "You didn't chew your words enough before you spoke..." She brought the tip of Keir's tongue up to his nose. "You must fix that, right ?" She let go of his chin to stand up and vulgarly throw her tongue tip in front of him. "Chew!" she ordered curtly.

"What?" shouted Mor's mother as she took a step forward, but an umpteenth cold look from Luxiana dissuaded her from continuing.

Luxiana returned her eyes to Keir to look at him. "I said chew you fucking tongue and don't make me repeat myself."

A gleam of rage exploded in the fae's eyes. He deployed his power to shatter that pitiful human's neck, but he couldn't do it. His power wasn't working. His power was completely stuck, as if completely asleep. He glanced at his lord. Had he blocked his powers? Yet Rhysand didn't even look at him, just stared at the blonde strangely. Keir wanted to destroy this human. He jumped to his feet, screaming strangely, to throw himself, hand first, at her and snap her neck with his own fingers.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel managed to take their eyes off their mate to put them on Keir and when they saw him rise to his feet and lunge at Luxiana, they gasped. The three of them were about to intervene, but before they'd even had time to move a muscle, their Luxiana grabbed one of Keir's wrists, went underneath and went behind him. She gave a swift, sharp kick to his bent knee, forcing him to fall to the ground. Using her grip on his wrist, she pulled him backwards, catched him by the shoulder to deliver a shin kick to his arm, which snapped in two with a horrible sound. Two pieces of bone ended up going out from the skin of the fae's arm, which had taken on an odd angle.

The three Illyrians recoiled in disbelief. What she had just done was a professional fighting technique.

Keir screamed, but Luxiana wasn't done yet -without letting go of his wrist- she grabbed the piece of tongue on the floor and swung it into the mouth of the fae, who cried out in pain with his eyes closed.

Feeling his own tongue in his mouth, the fae widened his eyes and wanted to spit it out, but Luxiana pressed her palm against his jaw to close it savagely and snap his teeth. She locked his lips with her hand while keeping his jaws closed with her index finger and thumb under his chin.

When Keir tried to move and struggle, Luxiana's grip on his wrist twisted his arm a little more, awakening the pain of his broken bone. "Keep moving and I'll break the other arm."

The fae stood still, trembling with fear. Luxiana smiled creepily. "Good, now, chew!" Her voice was cold and filled with disgust and hatred.

The three Illyrians didn't recognize her. 

Azriel was so shocked that he didn't know what to do or how to react. Had she really just done that? Was she really doing this?

Rhysand’s heart was pounding hardly in his chest. The way she talks coldly. The way she seemed so powerful and confident. She was incredibly hot.

Cassian took a step to the side to get a better look at his soulmate's face -on which Keir's red cell had splattered- and his blood migrated back to his penis. She was incredibly sexy. Her gaze was cold, sure, authoritative. She looked strong and powerful. Cassian's eyes lit up and his heart began to beat with admiration in his chest. No, not admiration, love.

Keir pleaded with his eyes, shaking his head in the negative. This answer did not please Luxiana who straightened up and suddenly kicked his forearm with her foot, breaking the bone there this time. The fae screamed as loud as he could with Luxiana's hand over his mouth. "I said chew,"she repeated.

Keir began to cry, trembling all over as he began to chew his own tongue. He vomited several times into his mouth, but he couldn't let anything out because of the blonde's hand clamped to his lips. "Good boy," she smiled. "Now swallow."

Keir swallowed his tongue with difficulty, his body shaking with the contractions of his stomach. Luxiana couldn't hide her smile at the satisfaction she felt. After waiting for a few seconds for his tongue to fall down entirely into his stomach, she released him.

Keir bent over to puke out all his guts, almost choking on his own vomit.

Luxiana took a step back, detailing him from her height. Then when he finished, she grabbed his hair to lift his head toward her. "You'll never disrespect your lord again, will you?"

He nodded in confirmation, tears rolling down his cheeks. Luxiana released him abruptly before straightening up to spin around and shoot all the other faes present with her pupils. "Does anyone have anything else to say about Rhysand?"

They all shook their heads and took several steps backwards. Then, all at once, Luxiana lost her cold, dark and crazy expression. "Great then," she jumped out of joy, smiling sweetly and innocently. She ran slowly towards Azriel -still motionless- to replace Truth Teller in its scabbard. Then she turned to Rhysand to wrap her arms on one of his and pull him out.

Cassian detailed Keir's bleeding body on the floor, grinning through his teeth. He glanced back at Luixiana, who was leading Rhysand to the door. "Woah," he managed to say in their minds. Then he began to follow her cheerfully.

Azriel followed them, walking robotically, staring into space. What had just happened?

They left the room and after a few minutes of walking, Rhysand blinked to compose himself. Realizing everything, he paralyzed, coming to a standstill in one of the long corridors. "What just happened?" he shouted breathlessly, lowering his pupils to Luxiana.

Luxiana wanted to continue pulling Rhysand but he stopped moving and she could feel the other two stop just behind them, giving her the same shocked look that burned her skin. She closed her eyes fiercely as she let go of Rhysand and gritted her teeth. "I'm not going to apologize, okay?" she shouted a little angrily.

She let go of Rhys to take a few steps forward, turning towards them and positioning herself in front of them. She crossed her arms, glowering at the lord. "You're the high lord of the night court, you can't let someone disrespect you like that!"

Rhysand widened his eyes again but Luxiana continued. "You may consider yourself mature and reasonable and kind enough not to react but not me dammit. I'm the exact opposite of that and there was no way I was going to let anyone talk to you like that, Rhys, not after what you've been through under the mountain!"

The blonde, seeing Rhys's surprised expression, thought it was sadness shining in his pupils. She huffed as she calmed down, feeling suddenly guilty and showing it on her face. She made an adorable pout that made the Illyrians hallucinate. Her face was so childlike and different from the one she'd had a few seconds ago in the throne room.

"I'm sorry," she finally mumbled, lowering her eyes as she juggled from one foot to the other. "It's just that I told you I'd protect you and not let anyone talk bad about you since you saved Feyre under the mountain and now I want to protect you too because I like you and I know I couldn't keep my cool but I was so..."

Something exploded in Rhysand's chest, sending vibrations of joy throughout his being and even warming his eyes. He didn't even let her finish her sentence as he cupped his soulmate's face to raise her head to him. "What did you just say?"

Luxiana accentuated her guilty pout when she saw Rhysand's even brighter eyes. She'd hurt him and she didn't mean to. "I said I was sorry and that..."

Rhysand shook his head to interrupt. "No, you said you liked me!"

Luxiana pursed her lips, drawing out her dimples. She looked away for a second, blushing. "Yes.. Why ?" she admitted, not understanding why he was asking her that. Was he going to make fun of her?

Rhysand let out a delighted laugh in one breath before throwing himself on Luxiana to kiss her full on the lips. Luxiana, not expecting it, hiccuped in surprise as she allowed Rhysand to put his tongue into her mouth. She didn't wait to return his kiss, which tickled her to the core.

Rhysand pulled away from her to stare at her with a big smile and eyes shining with playfulness and confidence. "So you like me." Rhysand wanted to jump for joy.

Luxiana bit her tongue as she backed away from his grip and gave him a jaded look.

Azriel came back to reality, shaking his head, his eyes still wide. "Does it surprise anyone but me that she just cut out Keir's tongue and fed it to him after breaking his arm?" he shouted in total shock.

"No, it surprised me too," Cassian said seriously, crossing his arms and then glaring at Luxiana. "But damn, that was sexy."

Luxiana laughed, lowering her head to hide her cheeks. Why was she blushing so much with them?

Azriel moves around Rhys to stand in front of Luxiana. He caught her chin between his thumb and forefinger to plunge a serious, wary gaze into his soul mate's. "How did you do that? You just made a fae eat his own tongue without batting an eyelid."

Luxiana winced, blushing from head to toe. She felt so small and intimidated by Azriel. "Believe it or not," she began in a voice more high-pitched and uncertain than usual, "but, this isn't my first cut tongue and broken arm."

Azriel frowned, prompting him to elaborate. "Well, I worked in a bar. There were bound to be people with inappropriate behavior that I had to correct." She shrugged as if this were normal.

"And where did you learn to do that?" the Illyrian asked, loosening his grip on Luxiana's chin a little, relaxing when he noticed she wasn't lying.

"Keydan explained how to do it and taught me. He wanted me to be able to protect myself if need be."

Azriel understood her sincerity and released her completely, but he couldn't calm his anger. "It was still a dangerous and thoughtless thing to do, Luxiana. I don't know why Keir didn't use his powers, but if had, you could have been hurt or worse, died. Don't ever do that again!"

Luxiana pursed her lips with an apologetic look and a cute, guilty face that made Azriel swallow hard. "Are you angry?" She stepped forward to surround her arms around the master spy's torso and buried her face in his pectoral. Azriel froze for a second, feeling his heart melt entirely as she straightened her head to rest just her chin on his chest and look at him with an adorable pout. "Excuse me," she added.

Azriel's whole body tickled from the inside. He could only calm himself by taking a deep breath. Why was he even angry? He placed a hand on the blonde cheek to lean in and place a long kiss on her lips. Damn it, there was no doubt in his mind. He loved this woman with all his body and all his heart.

Footsteps behind them forced them to separate and turn to see Mor striding in their direction. Luxiana hiccupped in surprise at the sight of Rhys's cousin, then winced with concern as she realized that she had just seen her cut her father's tongue out in front of her. "Mor, I'm sorry," she apologized, taking a step toward her. "I shouldn't have..."

She couldn't finish her sentence as Rhys's cousin threw herself into her arms to hug her with all her might. "I adore you. God, that feels good!"

Luxiana was surprised at first, but then laughed with Mor and returned his hug.

Rhysand detailed his soul mate laughing with her cousin, then glanced knowingly at his two brothers. She wasn't as weak as they thought, and in fact she was incredible. She'd done all this to protect his honor. To protect him. She was made to be his high lady. She was made for him. He stared at her and it wasn't with tenderness or affection but with love. He was in love with this woman, damn it.

[lavendercupids]

cult leader! lottie x gn! reader headcanons

been thinking about this nonstop lately so i figured why not<3

tw: non-graphic mentions of sex, emotional manipulation, mentions of blood

────୨ৎ────────

you first joined lottie’s cult because of your visions

you had heard about her ‘wilderness community’ from your therapist and figured you’d check it out

why not you thought, what could possibly go wrong?

you saw her at the entrance and fuck

she was hot, to say the least

she was kind too, extremely kind

she greeted you with a warm smile and an open heart

you were very anxious at first, just waking up to a strange place and requesting help and housing

but lottie was all too happy to be of service

she listened to your concerns, like, really listened

you had surprisingly learned she dealt with similar issues too

as a child, she had dealt with visions of her own

but she was healing

and she made you feel like maybe you could heal too

she told you that you were free to leave whenever you wanted 

you joined in on group therapy sessions as well as other group activities

some of these activities included what could be described as worshipping sessions

lottie believed that the key to healing was in nature

she held daily prayers and rituals in order to “appease the wilderness”

you did think it was a bit odd, but lottie convinced you there was no real harm involved

after it’s not like when the other community members shed their own blood as a sacrifice to the wilderness, they were doing it by force

lottie never forced you, or anyone for that matter, to do anything they didn’t want to

she believed the wilderness would guide you and when you felt ready to give in, you would

and sure, she kept pushing you, pushing you to try and give in, to just submit yourself to the wilderness

but it was always just light suggestions….right?

right.

she’d never do anything to hurt you

she was just so sweet, so kind, so understanding

she even offered to give you private one on one therapy sessions 

you were extremely grateful but didn’t want to be a burden to her

but she insisted and oh, how your heart swooned 

maybe you were being pathetic and lovesick but did it even really matter?

there was a gorgeous woman offering to give her time in order to be of your assistance 

and when she pouted softly and asked “please?” with those eyes of her

well, who were you to decline? 

besides, the sessions had proven to become extremely helpful to you

you never considered yourself to be an overly spiritual person but lottie made you want to believe

she’d smile with pride whenever you’d ask you questions about the wilderness and her faith and oh it felt so good

good to know that you were the reason she’s smiling, that she’s smiling at you

it made you feel important in a sense

she made you feel important

so, you started participating in the sacrifices

it was only a little blood required, and at first, that’s all you gave

you were terrified at even the sight of blood, but you’d do it

for the wilderness

for lottie

you gave into the wilderness

that small bit of praise was everything to you

you started giving more and more blood as the ceremonies went on

your faith was growing, and lottie’s smiles were getting more frequent

and your therapy sessions were going absolutely amazing

you can’t believe you ever doubted her

but the best part was the nights you found yourself in lottie’s bed, just the two of you

you found she was very touchy, in a good way though

while she was good at containing herself in public, whenever she managed to get you in private, her hands were all over you

her lips on your neck, arms wrapped around you waist, head buried in your hair

and she always spoke with a soft, motherly tone

like you could do no wrong

you never wanted to do anything wrong, not when she was involved

you knew she capable of getting mad

and when she got mad, she got mad

you had just really hoped she’d never get mad at you

you just wanted to be good for her

is that so bad?

when you had sex for the first time, she was extremely gentle

also asking if you were or weren’t okay with something

never did anything without verbal consent

she was a bit of tease, but always made sure you were well taken care of

and it didn’t hurt that she tasted amazing

that night, she wrapped her arms around you and said you should start sleeping in her room, in her bed

of course you accepted, you preferred her bed more than your own anyways

it smelled like her, and she was in it

she was the most wonderful thing to ever happen to you

after all, you found peace for her

and when she finally asked you to stay for good, staying forever with her 

well, you didn’t even hesitate to say yes

────୨ৎ────────

[thursdayinspace]

ficlet: quarantine

I needed fluff, so I wrote some. Perhaps a little messy, but definitely fluffy, post-Firewalker. They're in quarantine and Scully is bored. Mulder isn't.

She expected him to get restless and irritable before the end of their first day in quarantine. It’s been five days now, and although he’s been pacing a lot and at times talked for fifteen minutes straight about random cryptids she’d never heard about before, he does seem to be handling this a lot better than she is. Most of the time, he seems almost content.

She can’t say the same about herself. There’s simply nothing to do and she’s bored out of her mind. Standing still gives her too much time to think, and that’s the last thing she wants to be doing right now.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks, and when she looks up at him from her seat on her uncomfortable chair and meets his eyes across the tiny table they use for their meals, the corners of his mouth are twitching with a barely held-back grin.

“No,” she admits. “Sorry. What were you saying? Something about… banjos?”

“Banshees,” he says. “It doesn’t matter. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.” She sighs.

“Come on.” He leans forward, arms folded on the table. “You can talk to me. There’s… actually not much else to do here.”

“Yeah.” She leans back with another sigh. “That’s exactly the problem.”

“You’re bored?”

“Aren’t you?”

“Well.” He shrugs. “Yeah. Of course I’m bored. We have nothing to do and nowhere to go and there’s absolutely nothing good on TV.”

“And we’re gonna be stuck here for several more weeks,” she points out, pushing herself up out of her chair to walk over to their single window. It’s completely dark outside. Time has lost all meaning. It could be late evening. It could be past midnight. It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

“It’s not so bad,” he says, and she twirls around to him.

“Mulder, there is nothing to do here. Nothing.”

“So we’ll come up with something,” he suggests, getting up and making his way over to her. He stands so close she has to lean her head all the way back to look up at him. She’s in her socks and he’s so tall. And he’s smiling. Something aches deep in her gut.

“Like what?” she asks.

“I don’t know.” He bites his lip and seems to think about it.

He’s so beautiful it hurts her heart. Being stuck here is bad enough. Being stuck here with him is torture. Ever since she came back, he’s been so attentive, so careful with her. She can feel him looking at her when he thinks she won’t notice. And he’s always there. All the time. As if he’s afraid she’ll disappear again. And she doesn’t know what any of it means. She knows he wore her necklace when she was missing.

“Let’s go for a walk,” he says at last, and that makes her laugh out loud.

“We can’t,” she reminds him. “We literally can’t, Mulder.”

“Sure we can.”

He takes her hand and places it in the crook of his elbow, eyes sparkling as he grins at her widely.

“What are you—” She shakes her head. “What are we doing?”

“I told you,” he says, “We’re going for a walk.” And then he’s leading her across the small room into the tiny hallway separating their bedrooms, where he starts walking them up and down the same few feet of space. She can’t help it, she dissolves into a fit of giggles after the third turn.

“Nice weather we’re having today, don’t you think?” he says, and she holds his arm with both hands and leans into his side, the sensation of laughter unfamiliar in her chest.

“You’re crazy.”

“So I’ve been told. Many times. By you, actually.”

“In the best way. I like it.”

“Oh,” he says, sounding pleased, and a little surprised. “I haven’t heard that before.”

She stops them in their tracks and steps in front of him. “You know I mean it like that every time, right?” she says. “If I ever—”

“I know, Scully,” he promises, and the smile in his voice convinces her that he’s telling the truth.

“Good. Okay.”

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks. “I’ve been told the view doesn’t change at all the further you go. Might be worth exploring.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” The words slip out before she can stop them, and the happiness in her voice makes her blush. She didn’t mean to reveal that much.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “I know the feeling.”

She lowers her eyes and doesn’t know what to say. It’s a new problem. They’ve always had an easy back and forth, even their arguments often comforting in a way she never properly understood. Suddenly, everything seems filled with too much meaning. Or maybe that’s wishful thinking on her part. It’s just that she remembers the look in his eyes when he visited her in the hospital after she woke up.

“Hey, Scully?”

She nods, reluctantly lifting her head when he puts two fingers under her chin. “What is it?”

“I just want you to know…” He pauses for a second. “I just want you to know that I’d rather be in here, bored out of my mind with you, than healthy and having fun out there without you.”

“I, um.” She frantically searches for something to say, but he’s standing here, his fingers caressing her cheek now, and he is so warm and smells so good, and she simply can’t remember how language works for the moment.

“It’s okay,” he assures her. “You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.”

“No,” she says quickly. “No, I understand. I… guess I feel the same way.”

“Oh.” There’s something so hopeful in his expression, and she gives him the tiniest nod, hoping he’ll understand.

And he does, of course he does.

She can’t remember any kiss ever feeling like this. His lips just rest against hers, lingering, unmoving, and she feels it all the way down to her toes. Her hands come up to cup his elbows and he takes her face firmly between his large, soft hands, and by the time he pulls back, the world has rearranged itself around them.

“Was that okay?” he asks, and she puts one palm over his rapidly beating heart.

“I think I just thought of a few things we can do while we’re stuck here,” she says.

“Yeah?” He slides his arms around her waist and pulls her closer. “Like what?”

She rises up onto her toes to kiss him again, and finds that another three weeks of this doesn’t sound quite so bad anymore.

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part three)

tutor!jayce talis x reader college au

content: adding tutoring to an already packed schedule has gotten overwhelming. there's so much to do, yet not enough time, it seems.

pining (but im not saying who lmaooo), mentions of mental health (panic attacks, anxiety, etc).

notes: hiii. i am addicted to writing for this i fear so don't be surprised if i just keep updating randomly. i've also just started school so this is all in my free time!! but chat...its about to get good af *smiles mischievously*

word count: 1.2k

series masterlist

⭑·ﾟﾟ·*:༅。.。༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅。.。༅:*·ﾟﾟ·⭑

You didn’t enjoy this, scrambling for the countless time today to make a meeting. Even more so, you hated the idea of being late to see Ekko, again. He was always so empathetic—understanding. Even if he was upset with you, and you knew he was, he would never make you feel bad about it. He understood things happened. 

It didn’t stop you from speeding into the dining hall and turning to your usual table in a complete frenzy, though. “Ekko, I am so sorry. Time literally got away from me today.” 

He grips a chain he’d been holding, a locket at the top, and pushed it back into his pocket quickly. “It has a way of doing that…time I mean.” 

You sat down, immediately feeling way worse than you already had. “I’m sorry…”

“Don’t be, I’m sure you had a reason, right?” 

“Yes,” you sighed. “I was at tutoring with Jayce. We went over vectors and I finally understand it better.” 

His eyes lingered on the table, “Mm.” A hum from him, seemingly half paying attention. 

“Mm?” You mimicked the sound he made, “What’s mm?” 

“It’s just that I definitely could’ve helped you with that…being a STEM major and all…” 

“I know that…of course I know that but-“ 

He cracked a smile, “I’m joking.” 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face, the lightheartedness finally returning to you both. “I hate you, truly.” 

“You don’t…and that’s okay! I’m extremely lovable.” 

You nodded sarcastically, “Sure, I’ll let you keep believing that.” You looked around, finally taking in how desolate the dining hall actually was. It was a bit after peak hours now, considering you showed up a bit later than normal. A yawn escaped you, then, the day catching up to you. 

Ekko perked up a bit, “You hungry?” 

You tilted your head, “Always.” 

He turned to grab a paper bag from inside his backpack—pushing it across the table to you. Your order down to the sauces, no tomatoes, extra pickles. 

“Oh my gosh, I love you so much Ekko…you’re actually the best.” 

He watched you inspect the bag, each little detail perfect. There was a glint in your eye; it was rather humorous that it was about food, but he appreciated it nonetheless. 

You weren’t looking at him, but he was locked in on you. A genuine and soft look was on his face. “I love you…too.” 

The fries you were eating fully occupied your mind and nothing besides the comfort of your bed could get your mind off of them. Ekko didn’t say much after, letting you eat in silence before offering to walk you back to your place. The sounds of the busy city filled the space between you, him occasionally ushering you ahead with a soft nudge. Neither of you spoke until you were outside your door. 

You leaned in for a hug, “Thank you…I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yup.” He hugged you back, leaning his head into yours, inhaling deeply. “Tomorrow.” 

“On time,” You pulled away, “I promise.” 

His hands found his pockets, nodding simply. “On time.” 

Exhaustion was creeping up on you. At this point, you had class most days of the week, Ekko meetings daily, and tutoring at least twice a week. On top of all of this, you desperately needed a job. Even with the hours that passed and the rest you got, the looming feeling of doom was making you feel anxious. There was a bubbling thought in you that in a few days time, you might genuinely have a panic attack. The signs were there, a fleeting feeling of irritation—the need to constantly be doing something. If you didn’t you’d be left alone with your thoughts and that never worked out well. 

The next day's hours squished themselves together. Despite the feeling, you plastered on a smile and made your way to do everything you had to. You couldn’t chance anyone, especially Ekko, knowing that you weren’t feeling the best. Yet, the emotion often found you in silent cries. You took the long way to tutoring, walking on side roads you knew never had many people on them. In one ear, you let music play, sinking into the emotion as best you could with the consistent sounds of the world around you. It was best you cry now, you thought. You had to focus during tutoring. 

You didn’t sob, but rather let the tears run freely. The cool sensation helped usually—a way for you to identify that you were present in the moment…in your body. You let your legs carry you to the resource center eventually, mindlessly walking toward the room Jayce had reserved. Truthfully, you were glad to see he wasn’t here yet. 

You got comfortable, wiping your face free of the proof of your small breakdown. You straightened at the sound of footsteps approaching the door. 

“Hey,” Jayce backed into the room, a small bag in his hands. He slowly turned, closing the door behind him. You weren’t looking his way, purposely avoiding his gaze—hiding your reddened eyes. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m good,” a sniffle, “Just had a hard day…lot on my plate.” 

He nodded, sitting across from you. “Well…I guess it’s good I made sure to bring some encouragement then.” You finally looked at him. His face contorted briefly at the sight of you before handing you the bag he walked in with. “Here…this should help.” 

Confused, you reached for the bag. “But-“ 

“I asked Viktor,” he interrupted, “He said you would like some of these.” 

“You really didn’t have to, I was just joking-“ 

“I wanted to,” he spoke quickly before pausing. He looked at you, swallowing the already lessening amount of moisture in his mouth. He needed some water. “Besides, the store was on the way here.” He cut himself off, gulping some of the water from his bottle. 

You didn’t speak, just looking at your favorite snacks in the bag. The gesture was a lot to take in, but it was appreciated.

“Can I say something?” 

You nodded, “Of course.” 

“I kind of relate to you…what you said about school. I have a scholarship, too.” 

“You do?” 

“Yup. It’s just me and my mom and we can’t really afford it.” He repositioned in his chair, “I worked really hard before this…for years to make sure I could get a full ride. I couldn’t stand the thought of putting that burden on my mom. But, when I got here, it was like the burden was on me now, to not fail…you know?” 

“Right…” 

“I don’t want you to feel…you shouldn’t feel like it’s all impossible.” He didn’t acknowledge the way you started to cry a little—he thought better of it and you thanked him internally. Instead, he reached for a paper towel. “Sorry, this is all we have…with the white boards…” 

“Thank you,” you chuckled a bit. 

“So…are you gonna eat any of those or can I have it back.” 

“I might be willing to share.” 

Jayce rubbed his hands together, “That’s what I like to hear!” 

The session was great, as usual. You were feeling even more comfortable—confident enough to take the next physics quiz. 

More importantly, you made it just in time to see Ekko’s look of surprise when you got there before him. 

“On time?” 

“On time.” 

taglist

@juskonutoh @sseleniaa @aerina127 @sleepysoldier @bxxerry

[strtravels]

A SMALL NOD; accepting silently that Gordy would tell Kate at his own time – and there was nothing he could say against that. It wasn’t his story to tell, and he had always left the children the freedom to talk about whatever they wanted to talk about at whatever time they wanted to talk about it. Sometimes it ended in a very long night because the topic, picked surely just as distraction from the bedtime, turned into something actually serious. But he listened. He didn’t discourage the children by telling them to stop, just because it was getting late. TRUST was the keyword, wasn’t it? Sure, he wanted the kids to love him as their father, but wasn’t TRUST an important part of it, too?

“Chloe made the lemonade – I don’t reckon your mum did owt but stand there and keep an eye on things. But it’s sound. I had a glass earlier to get me motivated, y'know…” He nodded towards the abandoned paperwork and the laptop; a smile blooming again on his lips. Always trying to ease the tension – and the situation had brought a lot, making the air thick enough to cut with a knife. And even though it was slowly getting better, they were still a long way away from it being WELL again.

Gordy’s eyes were still red from crying; clearly visible even from the distance that Ed had brought between them, simply to get his son something new to drink. Hard not to sigh at it again. Compassion for his son as well as anger towards the boys who had done this to him, fighting a battle beneath a calm surface, while he had turned around to get a glass out of the cupboard. Another moment later, he took the jug of lemonade from the fridge and filled the glass, before returning the jug to the fridge and moving the glass over to the kitchen table.

He sat down again, just as Gordy tried again. COULDN’T HIDE THE HINT OF HIS SMILE THIS TIME. “ – Gordy, I can’t just keep ya off school. Your mum’s gonna be askin’ questions, an’ I doubt we’ll manage all that paperwork to get ya sorted for a year abroad in the next few hours – especially when we can’t reach anyone at yer school any more. An’ your mum’s clever enough to homeschool ya, but the school you’re at is proper good. You’re a smart lad, learnin’ loads more than I – maybe even your mum – knows. So homeschoolin’ ya's not on, nah.” Placed a hand on Gordy’s shoulder and shook his head gently as his expression turned more serious again.

“I get it. Must feel like I'm askin' you to jump off a cliff tomorrow, right? But I promise ya it won’t be that bad. You’ve got Howie and Josh, and Chloe too. You can ring me anytime, sound? – I could give you a lift to school tomorrow and maybe have a word with your teachers? Part of me thinks that might just make it worse, to be honest, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for ya. But keepin' you home for the rest of the year just ain't on. – An’ now, 'ave a sip of that lemonade. Then we can find summat to take yer mind off things, till I can have a word wit’ yer mum about Howie an’ Josh stayin’ over. Campin' in the garden or in the livin’ room?”

"I will, I promise." There's no reason he won't, just not when he's so emotionally charged. He's a thinker - a planner. Needs time and space to draw up some kind of battle plan rather than just charging right into something like this when he's too ready to break. His friends are a sure way to reset, to put things in perspective a bit. They might be a bit chaotic sometimes, but they're his best friends ( brothers, practically! ) and he knows without a doubt that they'll support him, even if they take the piss a bit first.

Dad's never told him to stop crying or not to cry at all - not like some of the dads of he other boys at his school, who often threaten to give their sons something to really cry about! Gordy's never really been a big crier, though he knows that if he feels the need to, he can --- and he is, right now. It feels like he might never stop, like he can't breathe, he's crying so hard but he doesn't exactly know why. When he does finally run out of steam, he can only really rest tiredly against his dad as he takes his mug back with the sole intention of drinking some cold hot chocolate to soothe the itch in his throat that screams of dehydration.

( And he still feels bad about the jumper, even if his father tells him not to. )

"Chloe and Mum made lemonade?" Man, he loves lemonade. Suddenly there's a brighter side to being so down ( not that today was in any way worth it for a couple of his favourite drinks ), enough so that Gordy offers a small smile, and a "yes, please", but not enough that he feels any better about the prospect of tomorrow. Tomorrow, he's going to have to put on his big boy pants and face up to the same lads who have reduced him to this ( if his parents don't agree to let him stay off ). Tomorrow, he's going to have to pretend as if none of what was said had affected him in any way, if he wants to survive the next year and a bit in peace.

Gordy waits for Dad's answer, fully expecting a straight no; he's not sick, after all - he's not at risk of harm, he's just miserable and his pride's been hurt. "Please!" It's worth a try, anyway. There's nothing left to lose, and his desperation is mounting, and even with his friends potentially coming to sleep over tonight, he doesn't think he can cope with walking through the front doors and listening to whatever whispered rumours people might be spreading about him already. "Can't you just--- I don't know, homeschool me for a year? Swap me for a foreign exchange student for a year?"