#I’m suffering from heat exhaustion rn

[ricky-yaps]

Tell you what, we coulda had a based life together! Fuckin' goated life! Had us a place of our own. But you didn't want it, Ennis! So what we gyatt now is Rizzler Mountain! Everything's built on that! That's all we gyatt, boy, fuckin' all. So I hope you know that, even if you don't never know the rest! You count the damn few times we have gooned together in nearly twenty years and you mog the short fucking leash you keep me on - and then you ask me about Ohio and tell me you'll fanum tax me for needing somethin' I don't hardly never get. You have no idea how skibidi it gets! I’m not sigma... I can't looksmaxx on a coupla high-altitude edges once or twice a year! You are too much for me Ennis, you sonofaskibidi bitch! I wish I knew how to rizz you.

[lilioopdf]

this week (this is my attempt at journali-fying my blog)

- ive been complimented the most since this new school started

- met an old close friend i don’t talk to anymore because he transferred to a boys school notorious for raising rich and arrogant assholes when we were 14 and changed drastically after that (i u-turned instantly when i saw him but pretended not to recognise him even when made eye contact like ten times but he still waved at me at the end so it’s okay)

- got a dm from my old classmate to catch up (actually ive spoken to so many old friends recently my heart is so warm and full ❤️❤️)

- but have also realised this clique leader doesn’t like me and she’s influenced one of her members to be afraid of speaking to me too even though we we chatted in a shared class the week before

- realised that im not the only one who noticed the clique leader being hostile ish towards me 😍😍 (anyway my friends and i all agree that it is much better to be the bullied than the bully so i don’t care and i’m grateful she doesn’t like me because i don’t want to interact with her anyway)

- omg but also the girl that was scared to talk to me in front of the clique leader was so nice to me in our shared class like… the first time i tried speaking to her when the leader was there she was so dismissive and kept backing up when i was trying to help her with her project but the next day we clicked so well again and she kinda waited for me after class but idk i told her i needed to stay and ask the teacher if my submission went through and then we accidentally met each other in the lift again and she complimented my hair colour but we just awkwardly stood away from each other after that because we were texting our own friends ro meet for lunch

- actually half of them are nice and i can talk to i just think Thing One is the common… idk fear (??) here because lots of people even those from other classes have pointed this out

- oh and i managed to compliment this girl who’s style ive wanted to compliment for WEEKS because i love casually dropping compliments but she was so pretty and intimidating with good style so it took me time but i did it

[a-soft-hornytiny]

Pool party.

Summary: You visit the hotel pool with your boyfriends, expecting a relaxing end of your day. Turns out you were totally wrong about the relaxing part.

Word count: 1.8k+

Genre: Smut

Pairing: OT8 x female!reader, San x female!reader

Warnings: pool sex, public sex, voyeurism, humiliation, degradation, dirty talk, cum, unprotected sex, begging, this is just really filthy (let me know if I missed something) be careful while reading.

Notes: I’m supposed to be working on my requests rn but I couldn’t help it. If you have a complaint, direct it to San. I’m not sorry (ok maybe a little but i beg yall to be patient with me haha) SUFFER. Tagging @hwaightme @legohwa @hoshischeekss @yeosangsbiceps and @shinestarhwaa for this one. Die with me.

Taglist: under the cut (let me know if you wanna be added)

Finishing the day off at the hotel’s pool? Sounded like a relaxing idea. So when your boyfriends asked you to join them, you didn’t hesitate to say yes. It was pretty late already and all of you were exhausted so you were sure it would be uneventful. But you were so wrong.

Pretty soon after you had arrived at the pool, everyone was minding their own business. Hongjoong, Seonghwa and Jongho made themselves comfortable on the pool loungers, Wooyoung and Yeosang were off the get some drinks and the rest, including you, slid into the pool.

The water was warm and since the pool was on the rooftop, the view was amazing. You rested your arms on the edge of the pool dreamingly staring into the night. You could hear Yunho and Mingi play fighting in the water behind you and Seonghwa’s calm voice as he talked to Hongjoong. A deep breath escaped your mouth as your body relaxed. It had been a while since all 9 of you could spend time together like this.

You laid your head onto your arms and closed your eyes when you suddenly felt arms wrap around your waist. You gasped, surprised by the sudden touch, making the man behind you giggle. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you Y/n.” San’s deep voice caused goosebumps all over your body. You let out a relieved sigh as you felt a soft kiss on your shoulder. You smiled lovingly as you turned around to face him but you didn’t expect the way he was looking at you. You had thought that he just wanted some cuddles, like most of the time, but his glance was different.

“San what-“ Before you could finish your sentence, he pulled you into a close hug, pressing his whole body tightly against yours. You inhaled sharply as you felt exactly why he was looking at you like that. You immediately wrapped your legs around him, hiding your face in his shoulder.

“I’m sorry Y/n but this swimsuit makes you look like a goddess. And I bet I’m not the only one who noticed that.” He murmured against your neck. You could feel his shaking breath against your skin as you pressed him closer by tightening your legs around him. 

“Sorry for what?” Your cheeks were heating up. You knew that playing dumb would make this situation even worse but you couldn’t help it. You looked up from his shoulder to see Mingi swimming just a few meters away from you, obviously having no clue what was going on. You felt this familiar tingle in your belly which was slowly making its way between your legs, exactly where San’s bulge was pressed against. 

Your arms were wrapped around his neck, your fingers nervously playing with the clasp of the fragile necklace he was wearing. 

“Oh Y/n don’t make me say it.” He responded harshly, pushing his hips forward. You whined into his skin as you felt one of his hands move down, fiddling with his swimming trunks. 

“Let’s see how long it will take until they notice.” He whispered into your ear while he rubbed his shaft against your crotch. Even though the fabric of your swimsuit was stopping him from directly touching you, it was driving you crazy. You were dripping wet already and it wasn’t from the water around you. 

To the outside it looked like San was just getting his usual cuddles but in reality you were shaking, trying not to make a noise as he rubbed his hardness against your clothed clit. 

“Please San…” You cried out quietly, making him chuckle deeply. You wanted to feel him inside of you. Wanted him to fill you up to the brim while you were surrounded by your clueless loved ones. Keeping it secret because you knew that if they noticed, it would turn into something even dirtier. You were glad enough that it was only the nine of you at the pool and no stranger was there to witness what might happen.

“Please what angel? I thought you didn’t know what I meant?” His back was turned to the others and your bottom halves were deep under the surface of the water. Otherwise the others would have already noticed the suspicious movement of San’s hips against yours. You pushed away from him slightly. 

Your hands wandered down his shoulders, over his chest, to his abs. San absorbed your every move, ignoring the sensation that was sent through his body by your touch. 

“Like what you see?” He growled, leaning in closer. He knew that he couldn’t kiss you. It would be too suspicious or well, it would cause the others to get curious. Instead he gently nibbled on your neck, knowing he would definitely be leaving a mark. 

He was driving you crazy. You wanted to moan out loud, wanted to beg for him to finally fuck you but you couldn’t. Your lips were pressed on each other firmly. Look normal, look normal, look normal. You thought while San pushed your swimsuit aside, one of his fingers disappearing between your warm folds.  

“Stay quiet angel.. we don’t want to be interrupted, do we?” You nodded firmly as another finger of his entered your warmth. You whined, a bit too loud, and immediately looked up in panic. But nobody seemed to notice. At least that’s what you thought until you met Yunho’s eyes. You cursed quietly. Everyone else was oblivious. Mingi was at the other side of the pool where Wooyoung and Yeosang were sitting with drinks in their hands and the other three were still sitting on the pool loungers. Only Yunho had separated himself from the group, now sitting in the corner opposite you, one hand on the edge of the pool, the other underwater. 

“What’s wrong?” San asked carefully removing his fingers from your entrance. 

“We have an audience.” You whispered into his ear, still keeping eye contact with Yunho. San giggled, stroking his own dick and pressing his tip against your clit. “Who is it?” He asked, preparing himself to glide deeper and fill you up. 

“Yunho.” You murmured, making sure that Yunho could read your lips. Making sure that he knew that you knew. “Well then… How about we give him a little show, angel?” San groaned before pushing his hips forward. You hissed as he slid against your walls, stretching you out. 

“San-ahhh..” Your legs were holding on to his hips tightly as he slowly started to move. And all of that happened without you breaking eye contact with Yunho. And the closer you watched him, the more obvious it became that his hand was not only underwater but inside of his trunks, moving up and down. 

“Does he like it?” San’s voice was breathy as he pumped into you. “Does he like watching as I fuck your tight little pussy?” His voice was low and filled with pure desire as his hands wandered higher, now caressing your breasts. His broad body was covering you almost completely but it was still visible that something had changed. If someone watched you closer it would be pretty obvious what you were doing now. But he didn’t care anymore.

It was his favorite poison. Feeling the stares and the jealousy on his back. Knowing that he had what everyone in the room wanted. “I bet he is stroking his big dick watching me fuck you dumb huh? Wishing it was him that was buried inside your throbbing cunt?” You threw your head back, whining as he picked up the speed. 

“San.. they are going to hear you..” You cried out as one of his hands slid down to harshly rub your clit. 

“So what? Don’t you think they enjoy watching? Like Yunho?” You had a hard time opening your eyes, your body overwhelmed with pleasure, but when you finally managed to, you choked on your own breath. It was not only one pair of eyes watching you now, it was seven. 

No need to hold back anymore.

“San please… harder!” You moaned out loud, causing their eyes to glow with this dangerous desire. You smirked satisfiedly.

“As you wish, my angel.” San smirked back at you. “I will make sure you’re prepared for what's to come after I’m done with you.” He grunted as he rammed his dick inside of you as hard as the water was allowing him to. And that’s when you locked eyes with Yunho again. He had moved out of the water, now sitting on the edge of the pool, displayed for everyone to see. 

He had pulled his dick out of his trunks and was stroking it vigorously. Sweat was running down his forehead while he panted loudly. Yunho loved being watched just as much as San did. One reason why either of them was usually the one to initiate it. 

Your attention was brought back to San by him growling at you. “Attention to me angel.”

You whined. All of this was too much for you. Feeling all those eyes on you while San’s dick was hitting all the right places put you close to the edge. You were clenching around him uncontrollably as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

“Please San.. make me cum. Show them how much of a whore I am, letting you fuck me right beside them..” You said, knowing exactly which buttons to press to make them go crazy. 

San was panting heavily, one from the exhaustion and two from his approaching orgasm. “Of course my angel. But don’t think it will be the last time that you’ve cum tonight.” He said, adjusting the speed of his fingers on your clit to his thrusts. And that’s what did it. 

With the next thrust, your body began to shake. Your whole body was tensing up before you saw stars. You were completely knocked out by the wave of pleasure that was hitting you, losing control over your body completely.

The next thing you felt was San gently pulling out of you. Multiple seconds must have passed because you felt his cum inside of you but didn’t remember to feel him cumming. When you looked around, still not grasping what just happened, you found Yunho lying on his back, covered in his own cum. 

San was holding you close, carrying you out of the pool after fixing his and your swimwear. 

“Are you back angel?” You nodded, your mind still foggy. He gave you a kiss on the forehead before placing you on one of the pool loungers. 

“Good because this isn’t over yet.”

—————-

Tags: @jonghoisbabie @multidreams-and-desires @little-precious-baby @yunhofingers-writes @serialee @crimsonbubble @cometoceantrenches @em--ilysm @deja-vux @kawaiiloli00 @ddeonghwva @aaaaajonghooooo @sansbun @cookies-n-joong @plonys @hijirikaww @nari-nim @yunkiwii @mingi-ivity @racheloveyunho @seongsangsgf @jhmylove @lizsvcks @yunhobabygurl @leoninadecorazones @kerra-that-one-random-fangirl @star1117-archives @hoshischeekss

—————-

[trashmouth-richie]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰

its absolutely miserable here rn but i enjoy writing these little winter stories so have another,

“why? why do we live here?”eddie grumbles, rubbing his red chapped hands together and blowing on them. 

the indiana wind blew hard against the windows, rattling the screen door and creating a draft that seemed to keep the trailer at a crisp 65°.

wool socks and long johns weren’t enough to keep him warm, the thick flannel he’d had since forever was threaded to the very top, his throat tight against the suffocating button. 

“ ‘t’s where the horses died, i guess.” wayne chuckled, cricketing his feet together as he lounged back in his squeaky worn recliner. 

the small space heater glowed angry red, drawing more electricity from the trailer. 

“get that van started up?” wayne asks around the mouth of a pabst. 

eddie flicks his lighter open and shut in a habitual manner, “didn’t want to, but finally gave in,” plopping down next to the heater to warm the apples of his cheeks, he lets out a small sigh of relief from his chattering teeth. 

wayne grunts in approval and they sit in comfortable silence. the howling wind keeping melody with the lonesome whistling of the ceiling vents, the garfield wall clock adding a chimed staccato. 

every business in town was closed. the gas stations, the diner— the weather man called for people to stay home: no travel advised. but healthcare didn’t operate around the weather.

his watch beeped at 9:45PM and he figured the van would be good and warm by now. 

“alright, i’m headin’ out,” he called to wayne as he shoved his arms through the cool leather and begrudgingly shoved a stocking cap on his head. 

wayne gave him a solemn look, “you be damn careful.”

eddie grinned his cheshire pearls, “always.” 

-

the steel door by the back entrance had a small window facing the parking lot. your co workers all had gone once the other shift had shown up to start their nightly duties of rounding on patients and stocking supplies. 

trisha asked if you needed a ride but you waved her off, “he’ll be comin’” 

you worried the snow might have been too deep for his van to handle, maybe it didn’t start at all? maybe the electricity went out in the trailer park?

 the nails on your hand suffered between your teeth as your brain concocted more and more things to worry about. things that could go wrong. 

but not long after a single headlight broke through the tree line and there he was, lining up with the sidewalk as close as he could without actually driving onto it. 

with one deep and ragged warm breath, you braved the weather. the snow scraping against your face in icy claws of unforgiving cold. wind whipping the starchy fabric of your nursing assistant scrubs this way and that. 

the dome light brightens as he climbs out from the van opening your door before you could reach for it yourself. a winced smile on his lips when he sees your chilled face. 

“get in baby,” 

he shuts your door and your fingers begin to thaw against the vents in eddie’s van, the warm comforting smell of rich tobacco and hints of weed engulf your senses. the smell of him singing a song to your soul. 

his door opens and shuts tight and he’s chattering his teeth loudly before grabbing your hands and kissing heat into them. 

“missed you,” he murmurs, “how was work?” 

“long…busy,” a barking cough creeps from your lungs and tightens your chest, “glad it’s over,” you say weakly, reaching for his hand and threading it between yours, “i switched shifts with diane so i have to be back at six.”

eddie’s eyebrows furrow into worry but he hides his concern. that place worked you like a mule, they didn’t care how bad the weather was or if you were sick… and he hated them for it. you looked exhausted, the normal glow to your skin was dusted over with whatever virus you were currently fighting.. but eddie knew there was no use trying to tell you to take it easy for once. 

“alright sweetheart, i can take you, wanna stay at mine tonight or go back to your place?” 

the small home you rented with your childhood best friend jonathan and his girlfriend, leah was on the outskirts of hawkins. and since your landlord was jonathan’s mom the rent was dirt ass cheap. the hopper’s residing in a desolate cabin owned by the chief. 

winter was rough this year and between eddie’s long hours at the factory that  didn’t seem to slow down, and your irregular shifts at the nursing home, you didn’t get to see much of your boyfriend, “stay with me?” 

-

the tv was blue when your key finally busted through the locks and you wedged your way inside. leah and jonathan both asleep, curled into one another on the oversized couch. 

tracking snow in, you and eddie toe off your shoes gingerly trying to avoid the unwelcome surprise of wet snow on your socks.

“i fucking hate snow,” eddie mutters hanging up both of your coats. 

“oh cmon, mr grinch, “ you tease with a small smile after hacking up another cough, “you don’t like how pretty it makes everything look?” 

“hard to look cool in this damn thing,” he says tossing the black stocking cap onto your counter, his hair a mess of kinky curls, frizzing into oblivion. 

“well,” you say, running your hands up his chest and around his neck, “i think you look cute.” 

eddie rolls his eyes and you scoff before he dives into your lips and kisses you loud and obnoxious. erupting giggles from you as his icy hands work themselves beneath the hem of your shirt. 

the laughing as your cough acting up again and eddie places a palm to your forehead worry etched into his eyes, you look back at him, “would the heat miser like a hot toddy?” 

eddie rubs his thumb into a circle pattern on your back. fuck he adores you.

“i’ll make ‘em, you go take a hot shower, alright? you feel sick.” 

you roll your eyes, “i’m not sick,” you garble through a coughing fit, “’m just sleepy.” 

“sure, sure, whatever you think.” 

—

when you’re dressed into pajamas and a long robe, eddie is stripped down to his long johns and the band shirt you liked to hold hostage at your house. your room is set up like a picnic, pb&’s and a twinkie to wash down the hot liquor. 

“pretty much a gourmet chef,” eddie says, licking peanut butter from his thumb, “i even ate your crusts for you.”

“my knight in shining armor,” you muse and eddie takes an exaggerated bow.

he sits crossed legged on your bed, “let’s eat i know your hungry,” 

eddie’s idea of a hot toddy is warm tea with double the amount of whiskey. yours he made sweet with some honey but his is kept straight and burning with whiskey. 

a light buzz clouds your head by the time you finish your drink and the exhaustion settles into your bones, the cough loosened a bit with your hot shower but now your sinuses were filled and you were only breathing from your mouth. 

“lay down baby, i’ll be right back.” 

eddie flicks off the light and sets the plate into the sink, jonathan is standing in the kitchen warming a a pot of milk on the stove. 

“that you coughing munson or her?” 

eddie finds the crinkly pack of cigarettes in the pocket of his jacket and pulls one out for himself and jonathan. 

“me? nah, she’s sicker than a dog.” 

jonathan stirs the milk and takes the cigarette from eddie’s offering hand, “leah and i had something like that last week, probably just something going around” 

the two smoke openly in the kitchen, both deciding it’s too cold to go outside. jonathan stirs the hot milk into the waiting mugs with chocolate powder, cigarette and spoon swirling in a dance of smoke and clanking ceramic. 

“there’s some vicks in the bathroom if you need it,” jonathan says, stubbing out his cigarette into the nearest ashtray, balancing the mugs in each fist, “ tell her to take a day off for christ sakes.” 

“yeah that’ll go over well.” 

they both chuckle knowing just how stubborn you are and jonathan disappears into his bedroom. flicking out the lights, eddie follows the hall to your room and sneaks inside, laying down next to your burning up body and sweat slicked forehead. 

he pulls you into him and you groan with the uncomfortable delirium from your fever. 

“eddie?” you whisper into his chest, fisting his shirt into your palms, “it doesn’t snow in arizona.” 

“you’re right princess,” eddie says pressing his lips to your fevered head, “it doesn’t.” 

you snuggle deeper into him, and speak a barely audible “let’s move there.” before you fall into a deep sleep. 

when morning comes and the wind hasn’t died down, you sigh a little relief when his van doesn’t start, and don’t object when eddie hands you the phone so you can call your job and tell them you won’t be making it. 

here is the actual temp from my weather app— 🥲 also tagging @eiightysixbaby bc jonathan’s girlfriend is her, duh.

[obitohno]

pillow talk [SAMPLE] | hanma x reader

synopsis: after vowing to loathe hanma for as long as you live, you somehow end up tangled in his bedsheets

themes: fem! reader, nsfw, 18+, enemies to lovers, one night stand, the morning after, unrequited love

a/n: please not that this is a sample. i’m currently writing a new one shot for hanma, bc i’m a huge sucker for the enemies-to-lovers troupe n i feel like it was made for hanma. idk what the word count is bc i’ve been writing this on my phone, n i’m yet to transfer it to my laptop, but here is a sample of what i’ve written so far. i’m really excited to finish this, it’s just taking me longer bc my new job is draining me so much rn :/ n bc i also pls for this to (potentially) be longer than my other fics. hopefully i’ll be able to finish it over the weekend, but! pls tell me what you think, via comments or dms, bc i’d really like some feedback as to whether people would like to read more.

update: i’ve now completed this story. you can now read the finished version here.

likes, reblogs, follows and feedback are appreciated ~

there are many emotions that you can associate with each time the fates decide to test your misfortunate knack of bumping into hanma shuji, but happiness isn’t one of them. and unfortunately for you, today is yet another of those days.

you’ve never been able to pinpoint the exact reason why the mere sight of his face is enough to irate you, nor are you able to explain why just an utterance of his name influences the instinctive reflex to roll your eyes before you’re able to stop it from happening. most of the time, you like to think of yourself as the better person, but there comes a time when one must simply accept that they are not above disliking someone enough to sneak into the office kitchen to swap the salt with the sugar just to see their arch nemesis grimace into their morning cup of coffee during the weekly team meeting. and there must also come a time when one will be humbled, embarrassed, or suffer at the hands of karma, no matter how much it may sacrifice the reputation of your own ego. or his, for that matter.

and today is that day.

you don’t notice anything unusual when you first wake, refusing to open your eyes when you regain enough wit about yourself to recognise the heat of this morning’s sun burning into your right cheek. your left is pressed into the pillow beneath your head, your limbs splayed in all directions under the bedsheets. you can feel a tendril of hair tickling your forehead with each upward breath that is puffed from between your lips, which, with one flick of your tongue, feel dry due to lack of hydration. it is with this discomfort that your eyes finally blink open with great effort, lids drooping with exhaustion. for a long, blissful moment, you’re not conscious enough to recognise that this, in fact, is not your bed. nor is it your bedroom, either.

that long, blissful moment continues as you move to stifle a yawn with the back of your hand, eyes blinking to regain some sort of coherency. only then, do you realise that your prone form is tangled in a mess of grey, silken bedsheets that do not belong to you. instantly, your spine stiffens, rigid with the brief flicker of anxiousness that has rendered you frozen. this pause stretches for far longer than what is probably deemed necessary, and before you take a proper look around you, you’re throwing the sheets back and stumbling from the ridiculously comfortable mattress, almost tripping over your own feet in your panic. there’s a bedside table that looks to be carved from an expensive oak—the sight of which makes your nose turn up—but nonetheless, it is what you reach out for when your ankle rolls painfully and you stifle a yelp by pushing your top row of teeth into the plush cushioning of your bottom lip. only, it seems that it’s unnecessary for you to catch your balance on the bedside table, but at that exact moment, the other occupant of the room reaches out and curls their fingers around your wrist in order to steady your balance.

this time, you do scream; a stressed noise that even makes you wince, and you yank your wrist free whilst simultaneously losing said balance and landing hard on the ground. the impact forces a shocked grunt from your mouth, but you’re not focused on that, because you’ve now realised that you’ve awoken—as naked as the day you were born—in the bed of someone you do not know.

except, the fates decide to prove you wrong, because the stranger breaks the silence, speaking in a low baritone that has served nothing but to aggravate you in every single possible way for the past decade.

‘what you doin’ down there?’

and then, a shock of dark hair—mixed with bleached strands of golden-yellow—appears within your line of sight as he peers over the edge of the mattress to eye your sprawled form on the floor. heavily lidded eyes dance across your naked skin, but you’re too busy gawking at him in horror to recognise the flicker of arousal that passes over his features. when your jaw finally has the mind to stop hanging open, it snaps shut and your brows lower, pulling together as you glower up at him, thrusting an accusatory index finger in his face.

‘you!’

and he, in typical hanma fashion, smirks. mockingly, he raises his own hand to point at his own bare chest, his other palm occupied by the weight of his head as he leans on it, appearing very comfortable with looking down at you. ‘me?’ he drawls, smirk widening when you finally recognise that you’re not wearing any clothes, and you rush to sit up, hands scrambling to grip the bedsheets and yank them from the bed in a desperate attempt to hide your nakedness from his greedy eyes. in doing so, though, you’d failed to think of the possibility that he’d be just as naked as you are, and your cheeks are lit aflame upon the sight of his cock, semi-hard against the crook of his thigh, nestled amongst a neatly trimmed patch of pubic hair. he isn’t nearly as embarrassed as you are—in fact, he only seems to be amused at your current predicament—and he simply lazes across the bare mattress, the corners of his eyes stretching slightly as he grins wide enough to bare his teeth at you. the sight makes your stomach twist with something that isn’t quite like disgust, but you promptly ignore it in favour of glaring at his stupid, smug face instead.

‘y-you!’ you splutter again, recognising the burning feeling of anger quickly settling in the centre of your chest. your voice is shrill as you demand, ‘what the hell are you doing here!?’

he looks at you pointedly, a single, black eyebrow quirking up toward his hairline, ‘i live here?’

you have nothing to say to that, so instead, you redirect your anger toward the very obvious elephant in the room—how in the hells did you end up in his room? his bed? when you voice these questions aloud, you watch his eyebrows pinch together in what you can only describe as thinly veiled annoyance.

‘what? you don’t remember?’

he sounds angrier than you’d expected, but it only fuels your own irritation, an emotion that isn’t foreign to you, especially when it concerns him. ‘obviously not,’ you snap at him, eyes wandering over the expanse of his thighs, all the way down to his ankles. you follow the lines and curves of his muscles as he pushes himself upright, eyes narrowing down at you.

it’s no secret that the two of you don’t get along. you’d immediately taken to disliking him when you first met as teenagers, and it appeared that he’d felt the same. then, you’d graduated from university, and you had made the mistake of thinking that you had finally escaped from seeing his insufferable face every damned day, only to have the misfortune of accepting a secretarial role at one of the largest law firms in the country, and being introduced to the senior partner, hanma-fucking-shuji, on the very first day. and, much like in his teenage years, hanma had made sure to live up to his infuriating nickname—the reaper—and has continued to make your life a living hell ever since.

[SAMPLE: end] please let me know what you think!

© obitohno. all rights reserved. do not repost my works.

[honeymaki]

hi :( just wanted to tell u i’m thinking about puppygirls rn, whether it’s a cutie like nejire or mitsuri looking pretty in their collars or being the puppy gf for a meaner gf like maki :( kneeling between her legs and showing her how good you can be with your tongue hhhh i’m suffering

Characters: Misturi x f!reader

Warnings: hybrids, puppy!reader, pet play, dry humping, masturbation, mentions of verbal abuse but very, very implicit.

whatabout Misturi nd her cute lil puppy gf:(( she buys you - I know I know bare with me - she buys you right off your old owner, takes you right out of his grubby horrible hands that stray too mean and hold too tight. Pays whatever his stupid mouth wants, pays double for that tattered play toy you won't let go of and holds you close to her chest the whole way home.

She's so patient with you, so kind and quiet, smiling just a little smaller and treading a little lighter because you're so skittish, so used to being shouted at and spat on. It takes weeks for you to stop shaking, to get your pretty floppy ears off your skull and perked up, for your bushy tail to fluff up as it should have been all along. and when you wag it, when it thumps on the ground for the first time as you're sat at her feet reading a book; Mitsuri smiles so bright and so wide that it only sparks your tail off into a flurry.

From then on, it goes so quickly, so fast, so bright and happy and full of sunshine and everything you had been missing. Mitsuri doted on you and gave you everything you ever wanted; swept you into beautiful hugs and petted behind your ears, bought you as many stuffed toys as you wanted even if they were out of stock, fed you fancy food and brought home treats from her missions. Sure, she went away for days, maybe weeks on end, but you were a smart pup, you knew how to take care of yourself and you relished in the quiet and the peace, catching up on years of sleep and chasing your shadow around the empty house.

and it get's even quicker, speeds up to a point one night when Mitsuri had returned home, exhausted yet satisfied and found you curled up, nestled at the head of her bed, nuzzling her pillow and - whining? your tail is quivering, hips quaking, ears flat against your skull but not from fear, no - from something else. something that penetrates the room and makes her pupils dilate, makes her breathing pick up and makes her drop her bag on the floor. Not even the heavy thud makes you pause your jolting movements, thighs squeezing the pillow between them and if Mitsuri concentrates, focuses her hearing; she can just about make out the tell tale squelching of your puppycunt squishing against her pillow.

"Puppy - baby, what are you doing there hm?" she's sweet, so sweet, understanding and content deep in her eyes and soft in her hands as she unwinds your arms from the pillow, kneeling one leg on the bed between yours, "Did you get lonely puppy?" there are pearly tears in your eyes, nodding with a pitiful whine and she breathes a sigh of relief when you don't retreat from her, when you accept the hand that smooths over your cheek and reaches up to your ear, stroking and petting and soon those whines turn into purrs and chirps. Her leg, her leg is so close, so close to you, knee inches away from your crotch, from your weepy folds and the heat of her makes your tail thump against the bed lazily, tongue lolling from your mouth when her lips descend on your neck, kissing along the band of the pink leather collar you wore baring her name.

"You're not alone anymore pup, m'here now - I can help you yeah? Want that? Wanna be a good girl? a good puppy?" Mitsuri drags her thigh closer to the apex of your hips, the bend of her knee dipping against your cunt and the movement forces them to part with a wet smack, slick pooling under your ass and sticking to her smooth skin, "Well - you know what to do, don't you baby puppy? Yeah?" You nod enthusiastically, though with barely a thought behind your eyes as you gaze up at her, nuzzling under her jaw as your hips started to move, up and down, up and down. Barely a rhythm, barely getting started before you're rutting and mewling and yelping with the ache between your legs,

"That's my good girl, my good baby, getting my leg all wet and messy aren't you? Our training is paying off pup! C'mon, cum for me and I'll give you a treat okay? Thatta girl, come on!"

[spidernerdsblog]

Yo, it's 'that time of the month' for me right now and I seriously hate life rn.... I could do with some headcanons of how mob Tom Holland would react to the reader not acting like some deranged she hulk but rather she's just calm and internally wishing to set the world on fire?

ah hang in there girl you'll get through it. i'm just grateful i never got cramps thanks to whatever cramp preventing gene i inherited from my mom lol.

Auntie flo

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings : none

It was quite early in the morning as you felt a sharp sting of pain shoot down your abdomen. You rolled over on your bed groaning and it didn't take much time for you to realize that your auntie flo has come to pay you her monthly visit. You sit up letting out a huff to find Tom’s side of the bed empty who's most probably out for his morning run. Removing the covers you got off the bed and headed to the bathroom. You took out the box of tampons from the cabinet when you felt another cramp.

“Fuck” you muttered clutching at your abdomen already getting the hint of how shitty the week is going to be for you being constantly hungry, bloated accompanied with frequent mood swings.

Your sleep was ruined anyway so you made your way down to the kitchen. Taking out the jar of nutella you grabbed a spoon and scooped out a large portion as you ate in peace. Tom returned after sometime and was surprised to see you awake as you aren’t much of a morning person.

“You're up early today, everything ok?” he asked.

“Yeah, yeah I'm fine don't worry” you tried to sound cheerful. You and Tom have been together for six months now but still you felt a little uncomfortable with talking about it openly to him. Tom didn’t ask anything further as he went to take a shower.

Despite feeling exhausted you dragged yourself to the office for the scheduled meeting after all you were Tom’s P.A too. You sat on your chair silently listening to the client going on and on to negotiate a deal by putting forward some stupid arguments which just started giving you a headache. Your irritation rising with every passing moment.

Tom also found you to be oddly silent today because usually you're quick to come forth with counter arguments. When something struck his mind as he pulled out his phone and checked the calendar. Yep it was that time of the month for you and by the look on your face he could totally make out that you’re in the mood of choking the life out of everyone in the room. Even though you don’t really talk to him about it, within these six months he has figured out how even the littlest of things annoyed you during this time and still you’ll choose to suffer in silence.

“Darling, why don’t you take the day off today?” his voice broke you out of your zone.

“What about the meeting? You asked with a frown.

“I can handle this, don't worry, go and take some rest” he said softly. You didn’t argue much and slowly went back to your room. Slipping into your comfy pjs and throwing your hair into a messy bun you plopped on your bed with a heating pad placed on your lower belly.

After getting done with the meeting Tom went straight to your shared bedroom to check up on you and finds you tucked under the covers as he goes around the bed and sits near the headboard.

“Hey, how is my princess doing?” he knelt down to kiss your forehead gently.

“Surviving” you mumbled sitting up.

“It’s ok love. See I brought you your favorite ice cream” he brought out the ice cream he was hiding behind his back. You eagerly took it from him as he handed you a spoon. You immediately delved in already starting to feel a lot better.

“How did you know?” you asked while licking your spoon clean.

“Well I know you don’t like to talk about it so I just downloaded the app and synced it with yours” he said bashfully.

“Aww Tom that’s so sweet of you and I’m sorry I just don’t want to bother you with these petty issues of mine” you said as Tom reached out his hands to cup your face lovingly.

“Hey you’re the most important person in my life, you can never bother me” his warm brown eyes gazing into yours “Also I’ve ordered from your favorite restaurant so we can stay all day in bed and cuddle watching your favorite movies. How does the idea sound?”

“I love it Tom! You’re the best boyfriend ever!” you squealed pulling him to you to capture his lips softly.

[yeojaa]

feed me, fight me.

pairing.  boxer!jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  relationship issues, baby angst, comfort, unprotected sex (please be responsible!).  wc. 3.5k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, always.  💖  author note.  i’m really into comfort fics rn so... 

What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend?  (Aside from trouble, that is.)

The answer is you - throwing punches far harder than you should be, completely disregarding the fact that you’re meant to be playing the part of perfect partner, meeting pads in the sequence he’s laid out.  It’s you throwing a hook when you should be swinging an uppercut.  It’s you, snapping your leg out with a satisfying thunk! of your shin when you should only be thip kicking.  It’s you, not giving a single damn as you take out all your frustrations on someone who’s growing increasingly more irritated by your childishness.  It’s you, blatantly disrespecting him in his ring - sending a reminder that there’s more to life than the four corners of this space. 

How can he blame you though, when he’s the reason?  When you’ve voiced your annoyance more than once - more than twice, more times than you care to count - and each time it’s met with a half-hearted apology (if you could even call it that)?  How can he hold it against you when you’ve asked, demanded, pleaded for more? 

“Cut it out,”  he seethes, quiet, under his breath, irritation igniting his expression, something hot and angry burning in the dark of his stare.  A withering wildfire in an empty field, smoldering coals flickering bright.  It presents itself in how his mouth curls, the hard line of his jaw as bone threatens to snap in half from the tension. 

“Cut what out?”  Your retort is punctuated by the smack of leather on leather, the worn edge of your boxing glove meeting the pad that Jungkook raises just in time to avoid a black eye. 

“What’s your problem?”  How he manages to snipe back - somehow sounding disgruntled by your behaviour - you’re not sure.  All you know is it boils your blood, searing heat within your veins when he effortlessly blocks your next jab.  He knows you well and knows the sport better, predicting each movement as if you’re telegraphing it all with a giant neon sign on your forehead. 

(You probably are.  You’ve never been good at hiding your emotions, pinning your heart on your sleeve, your sadness heavy in your mouth.  They wear you, rather than you it.  A weakness of yours.)

“You’re my problem.” 

“Shut up.”  It’s not the usual exasperated annoyance he levels you with, meaner and paired with a swat of your gloved hand.  He’s not supposed to be countering you, instead only blocking the punches you throw his way. 

(But then again - when did he ever listen to you?  When did he ever do what he was supposed to?)

(It’s not a fair assertion.  You’re just mad.  Livid beyond belief, standing atop this hill that you’ll happily die on.)

“Fuck you,”  you snap, offering the petulant comeback in the same instance you surge forward.  He blocks your jab - sees it coming from a mile away - and goes to block your hook. 

Except it never comes, your knee straightening out instead, hard edge of your shin slamming right into the side of his leg. 

He crumples more out of surprise than anything, eyes wide, all the anger swept away by something closer to astonishment.  It shines impossibly bright in his eyes, turning his entire expression upside down when his knee hits the ground.  By how he falls, you’re sure you’ve hit just the right spot, left his nerve endings buzzing uncomfortably as the feeling leaves the limb. 

“Are you serious?”  You know he’s genuinely baffled then, voice slipping, cracking in a way you’d normally find adorable.  (It goes to show how upset you are, the awkward split of his words doing nothing to soothe your temper.)  “What’s your issue?”  He’s still seated on the floor, rocking back on his heels, brow knit in consternation.  It’d take him seconds to jump up - to put you on your ass - but he chooses to remain where he is, staring up at you with that look on his face.

(That look you love.  That you hate.  That makes your insides turn to goo on his best days and misery on your worst.  That you’ve seen every single day for the last three years, as the first thing upon waking up and the last thing before passing out.  That makes you hesitate now, peering down into it.)

(Were you being unnecessary?  Unbearable?  Was this on you?)

“I’m going home.”  It’d be nice to tear your gloves off, throw them in his face and storm off in a huff.  It’d cause the scene you’re hoping for, push him to where you need.  (Because that’s the thing about Jungkook - he doesn’t react otherwise and you’re sick of it.)  Instead, you turn on your heel and slink away, silent as a mouse.  

You’re tired.  Too tired.  Why had you started something you couldn’t finish?

It shouldn’t surprise you that you’re home alone for hours that night, curled up in bed and half-asleep when light from the hallway spills into your bedroom.  It comes with hardly any noise, a tell-tale sign he’s trying not to wake you (or disturb you or get caught).  You almost let it slide when his figure appears in the doorway, broad frame swallowed up by the oversized sweater he wears.

He’s moving near silently, having already deposited his gym bag in the laundry room.  He doesn’t even switch the light on, moving around in the muted glow of the hallway, fumbling as he strips his clothes off and tosses them into the hamper against the wall. 

You expect him to head directly into the en suite, wash away whatever grime he’s accumulated throughout the day.  He’s always been this way, far too concerned with dragging in odour and dirt into your bed to do otherwise.

Except tonight, he doesn’t follow his usual routine.  Tonight, he makes a detour.

The bed dips before you realise what’s happening, grip on the pillow under your head tightening.  Words fit between your teeth, ready to spill out, lash out, tear out like a bullet deadset on landing a bullseye. 

“I’m sorry.”  Two words you’ve been waiting to hear, that startle you enough to throw your anger out the window, tossing them out with the wash.  “I don’t know why you’re upset but I’m sorry for whatever it is.”  He’s speaking into the quiet of your bedroom.  You can feel his hand settled on the bed, wrist somewhere over the line of your spine.  

Oh - he thinks you’re asleep.

“Things have been crazy.  I’ve been stressed.”  Here, under cover of night, he’s vulnerable, explanation tumbling forth uncertainly.  You can hear it in the way the words form, syllables slipping into each other - a sure sign of his exhaustion.  “I know that’s not an excuse, so I’ll be better.”  Though he readjusts, weight distributing differently over the bed, he isn’t touching you.  You can only imagine how he looks, the posture he’s taken on, arms leant over knees, hands twisting together in that way of his that begs a silent help me.  A version of him you’ve seen only a handful of times.  

(Jeon Jungkook does not let things get to him.  Never has, likely never will.  He’s immaculately put together, strung tight by years of growing up too fast, wanting too much and fearing it’ll slip away.  He goes and goes until he can’t any more and only then does he still, crashing headlong over a cliff of his own creation.)

It’s then that you realise while you’ve grown irritated with his preoccupation, coming second to the man you’ve only ever put first, he’s been suffering right alongside you.  Differently, certainly, but suffering nonetheless.  Holding his cards close as he’s always done, shouldering all the things on his own and hoping for the best.

Irritation flares first.  Anger at the fact that he hadn’t confided in you.  It burns bright, erodes everything else in its path.

And then it dims almost immediately, overshadowed by a tenderness that blooms in the small of your chest.  Rosebuds that fill the cavity and swath affection in broad strokes, colouring everything purple - a pretty mosaic made up of equal parts love and sadness.

“You should’ve said something.”  

Bambi-eyed baby is your nickname for your boyfriend - one he reluctantly wears, scowls at when you use it in public - and yet you’re still blown away by the glossiness of his stare, how wide it goes when you roll to face him, simultaneously flicking your bedside light on.  There’s embarrassment crowding his expression, lighting up every handsome facet of his features in technicolour.  He works to hide it almost immediately, moves back on the bed as if he might find himself a home in the shadows.

“I thought you were sleeping,”  he mumbles, not quite looking at you, stare focused on your pillow case, the white linen that you’d bought when you’d moved in together.  “Did I wake you up?”

Though his concern is real, you know it’s a distraction too.  His way of deflecting, shifting the focus back to you.  

(Jeon Jungkook doesn’t live in the spotlight.  Hates it, in fact.  It’s a curious combination - wanting to be praised, to show off, and yet fearing failure so strongly.  A worrying mix when he’s down and an endearing one when he’s up.)

You’re still cocooned, still held far enough away that he hasn’t run for the hills, locking himself in the bathroom to put a further physical barrier between you.  Should you move too fast, you know he’ll spook.  Push too hard, he’ll leave.  

“Couldn’t sleep without you.”  It’s true enough.  Dreams had evaded you for the better part of the evening, held somewhere by hands inked like his, blemished by scars and calluses like his. They’d been kept in his coat pocket, tucked behind his ear.  (So maybe it’d been anger, too, that’d kept you up.  That doesn’t matter now.)

The disbelief is evident, both in his words and the quirk of his mouth, bathed in dim light.  “Really?”

(You sometimes wonder how different the two of you see things.  What a day looks like from his point of view - whether he reads all of your interactions in the same way.  You’ve always been terribly incompatible in that way, opposites in so many respects that it’d frankly baffled your friends when you’d started dating.

You were intent - sometimes too intent - on resolving problems, never letting up.  Forcing conversations you felt you needed to have, demanding answers even before there was one.  He, on the other hand, was uncomfortable with conflict, choosing to ignore the things that bothered him until they went away.  It’d driven you absolutely insane at first, made you worry that it was you that was the issue, simply being too much.  

But over time - three long years, to be exact - you’d found a common ground.  Or so you’d thought.)

“Why are you so surprised?”  

“You were pissed earlier.”  There’s a lightness to his tone, careful consideration poured into each word he offers, as if he’s navigating a minefield.  You’ve had these kinds of disagreements too many times for him to believe otherwise, as if his caution is a part of him, stitched lovingly - forcefully - by your hand.  “Thought you wouldn’t wait up for me.”  

“I shouldn’t have,”  you retort before you can help it, still just a little childish, a little hurt.  “But you know I hate going to bed angry.”  Of course he knows.  He’s lost hours of sleep due to your insistence that everything be talked out. 

He hums a noncommittal sound - more of a grunt - and you know your window is closing.  Now that you’re not out for blood, he’s retreating as he always does.  Readying himself to rise from the bed, close this half-read chapter and move onto the next. 

You beat him before he can, curling your fingers around his wrist, over the dangling silver chain.  (His birthday gift this year, heavy metal that’s cold under your touch.)  

“Don’t.”

One blink.  Another.  Slow and confused - deliberately so.  Then he’s looking away, staring down at the ground as if you haven’t just read his next move.  The ring might be his domain but home is yours;  it’s the one place you hold the upper hand.  “What?”  

“Don’t leave.”  It’s easy to read the meaning in between your words, the unspoken request that might as well be brilliant red ink.  It’s far kinder than your usual demands, more pleading than begrudging, more need than want.  

“I need to shower.”  

It’s not a no - which you suppose is a win. 

“Just wait.”  Your request comes with an adjustment, whole tired frame rising from the bed only to sink back down - this time against your partner, your other half, your infuriating love.  He accepts you readily, dropping his ink-strewn hand over your covered thigh.  The weight is comforting over the warmth of the duvet, grounding you in the quiet of your home.

“I’m gross,”  he complains, though he doesn’t make to move away.  Stays right by your side when you drop your head against his bare shoulder.  “Now you’re gross.”

“We can be gross together.”  Because you’re not ready for him to leave you, to close the door as he so often does.  (And, for once, you’re not quite as angry, not seeking an argument that’ll give you the resolution you hope for.  You want communication, open and honest.  You want him, vulnerable and soft.)

A little sigh comes, a puff of breath that expands his doughy cheeks and sends wayward strands fluttering.  It’s less resigned and more endeared - you know how much it means when his acquiesces like this.  

Maybe he wants those same things, you think.  

“Do you wanna shower?”  You ask in perfect tandem, words folding together.  You nod in the same way.

Encased in the small space - it’s different.  He’s preoccupied, back turned to you, shielding you from the slow-heating stream.  It’s as if his mind is a thousand lightyears away, trapped somewhere with the stars as the water rains down around the two of you, fogging the glass and wetting his hair. 

“Babe?”  

There’s a delay before he reacts, peering over his shoulder at you, a faraway look in his eyes.  You wonder what he’d been thinking of, whether he’s still on the same page as you or if he’s skipped ahead as he tends to do.  When he speaks, you have your answer, his words flicking through paper to bring you two where you need to be.  

“Can you wash my hair?”  An indulgent treat he rarely requests, one he seldom allows.  He’s far too on the go, jumping from this to that to spend much time like this with you. 

It’s a sign if there ever was one. 

You reach for your shampoo bottle wordlessly, popping the cap and depositing sweet peach-scented liquid into your hands.  They fold into his strands carefully, tips of your fingers pressing into his scalp, delightful bubbles accumulating between your digits.  He doesn’t make a sound but you feel the way he relaxes, practically melting into your touch as you work the cleanser through his roots, careful to keep the suds from descending into his eyes. 

When was the last time you’d done this?  Weeks ago?  Months, maybe?  You honestly can’t recall.  (Not that it matters now.  You’ve found yourselves back here, terribly tender and intimate in the dead of night.  Almost as if no time has passed at all.)

Silence stretches between the two of you.  You don’t even need to instruct him to rinse, running seamlessly through the routine without hesitation. 

Conditioner replaces shampoo, deft fingers combing through the few knots in his feather soft strands.  Though there are hardly any, you know he loves when you take extra care, treating him in ways he’d never ask for otherwise.  He savours these quiet moments of almost-solitude, spoiled rotten by your familiar touch and comforting affection.  

You’d give it every single day if you could.  Had, in fact. 

That’s what’d brought you here, after all. 

“‘m sorry,”  he says - mumbles really - surprising you as you’re working your fingers into the nape of his neck, concentrating on the tension that’s carved out a home beneath muscle and sinew, turned bone iron-clad. 

“For what?” 

Any other time, it might’ve come across demanding, needing an answer that would soothe whatever inadequacy he’d somehow strung your heart up with.  Now, it���s genuine, asked more for him than you.  

You want to be let in.  Need it. 

“Being out of it, I guess.”  It’s a lot for him - admitting this.  “I’ve just been busy and I guess I kind of just—“  The imposing line of his shoulders rise and fall, a mountain range disturbed by the uncertainty in his voice.  

“Forgot about me?”  You don’t mean it meanly.  It’s a simple statement of fact, one the both of you have to face. 

“Yeah.  Something like that.”

You deliberate accepting the apology and moving on, sweeping it under the rug because he’s already come so much further than you’d thought he would.  But that’s not the kind of person you are, so you press just a little more, stand just a little taller. 

“I don’t think I ask for the world, Kook.”  Maybe more than some people.  Maybe less than others.  “If I’m being too much, I’d rather you let me know than shut me out.”

A sigh comes, so heavy you wonder whether he might be Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.  

“No, I know.”  

“Do you?”

(At some point you’d stopped massaging the conditioner in, opting to crowd your hands over his back, working into the knots that run beneath his skin.  He hadn’t been lying - he’s stiff as a board, entire broad form twitching any time you press the pads of your thumbs into a particularly sensitive spot.)

“I thought I’d figure it out myself,”  he reasons, in that oh-so impossible Jeon Jungkook way of his.  “Didn't realise it was taking a toll on you.” 

“On us,”  you correct, not at all tactful.  

“On us,”  he agrees with another sigh, smaller this time, tinged blue with something that feels like guilt and fills up the glass space. 

“We’re a team, you know.” 

(You know he knows.  You just have to remind him sometimes, anchor him with the knowledge that it’s not him against the world.  That you’re in his corner - always.)

“I know.” 

When he turns to look at you - doesn’t even flinch when the sudden movement has you wobbling on your feet, catches you when you stumble - you don’t doubt that.  He loves you just as much as you love him, sees the whole world in the small of your stare.  

“I’m sorry,”  he says again, two hands coming to cradle your face, palms warm over each cheek.  “Just give me some time.”  For what, you’re not sure.  You don’t mind waiting to find out though - willing to weather the storm just to see him happy.  

Jungkook holds you close, threads his fingers through yours and peppers love into the silk of your hair.  Dresses your skin in the heat of his affection and sears his signature into the velvet of your skin, teeth dragging, tongue gliding.  

“Is this better?”  He means how he holds you, how he treats you like porcelain as he fucks you slow and tender, keeps one leg hooked back over his own. 

It’s not that this is the kind of lovemaking you prefer but rather the one you need, with him consuming you wholly, sweetly, filling you with each fluid roll of his hips and nothing else.  No elaborate dirty talk, no overzealous bouncing, just the two of you together, curled against each other like you might not survive otherwise.  

He’s not pushing you to your finish with deft fingers over your clit, not taking his fill with greedy hands.  He’s simply there, with you, feeling every curve of your body as he sinks into your aching cunt and sighs as if he’s in heaven.  (And maybe he is - because where he is could only ever be where you are and you feel like you’re floating, weightless and lovestruck, anchored only to your bed by the hand that squeezes yours and the mouth that purrs your name.) 

“Yes,”  you breathe, exhale in a breath that seems to take all of your effort.  It’s hard to focus when he splits you open so well, fills your pussy and your heart and makes your chest erupt with a kaleidoscope of butterflies. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

When he says it like that - folds it like a promise and tucks it into the spot behind your ear - you know it’s true.  Even if you don’t always feel it, even if he doesn’t always show it, there’s not a doubt in your mind. 

In all the ways he can, he loves you.  And whether that means enough from one day to the next, you don’t mind sticking around to find out.  Not if it means more of this. 

(Of him, of you, of your life together.)

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice @youwannabelostandnotbefound @snackhobi @codeinebelle

[leo-interactive-fiction]

okay so i got this random idea rn but how would the ros react to the mc getting into a physical fight with someone?

E presses a wet cloth to your brow, a disapproving look on their face as they dab away the blood. "You have to think things through a little more. What am I going to do if you get really hurt? You're lucky this was the worst of it..." they chide before pressing a hand to your cheek, "...At least you're safe. Just don't forget what I said! You need to be more careful!"

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

R flops down on the couch next to you with an exhausted sigh as you press a wet cloth to your split brow.

"I suppose it could have been worse," R mutters, crossing their legs as they lean back against the cushions. "If I wasn't there to bail you out, how do you think it would have gone? You're not always going to have an attractive mediator to vouch you out of jail, you know."

"Attractive?" you mock incredulously.

R puts their hands up, defeated, "See? Now I'm regretting it. I'm too kind to you."

The two of you share a small moment of laughter.

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

L stares at you with a mixture of worry and disapproval, a stilling silence hanging in the room as they await your response.

You take the wet cloth off, glancing down at the speck of blood-stained on its surface. "Does it matter why I did it?"

"I suppose it doesn't. My answer may still be the same," L's hands tighten, "I don't understand why you would resort to violence above all things. I'm certain there were better options -- different methods to diffuse the situation. Do you truly find this to be an acceptable resolution? When the animosity has only been elevated? That seems a hollow victory to me."

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

V slaps your hand away, "Don't touch."

"Right, right," you sigh, laying your head down on the couch arm and staring up at the rotating ceiling fan. V hovers over you, shaking a powder onto your wound.

"Why didn't you call me?" they murmur accusatorily, "I could have handled it."

"It was just a little fistfight. I can handle it."

"As the Commander, it's your duty to avoid unnecessary risk. It's my duty to fight."

"Why're you so serious about-- Ah! Hey!" you wince as V puts pressure on your wound, causing it to sting. You see their brow furrow minutely.

"Part of the healing process. No complaining," they respond strictly, slapping your hand away once more.

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

P brushes away a streak of blood from the corner of their mouth, glancing behind them towards you. "Dumbass."

"I heard that, you dipshit," you growl back at them, dabbing the wound with a wet cloth.

"You were supposed to."

"Trying to pick another fight already?"

P makes a humming noise, brushing a knuckle against their cheek, "At least you can land a hit. Once in a while."

"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"Shut up. I'm just pointing it out. Don't try to inflate it."

You chuckle to yourself, stretching an arm, "I guess you're not too shabby either. There are worse people to make a rival out of."

"A rival huh...?" P stares past the red strands of hair that dip past their forehead, resting their eyes on the dark silhouette of your shadow on the wall. They close their eyes, a small smile working against their lips, "You're such a dumbass."

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

M pats their lap with a calming smile, "You need...to rest..."

You attempt to hide the rising blush behind your hand as you press a wet cloth to your wound, "I-It's alright, I think I'm alright--"

Before you can move to escape, M presses their hands on your cheeks and pulls you down. You accept your fate as you stare up at M's pleased look.

"You don't...need to be...so shy...I'm good...at these...kinds of things...too...Just leave it...to me..."

You feel a tender hand rest against your cheek as M presses the cloth against your brow, humming a small tune.

"What is that?" you ask.

"Hmm...?"

"The tune you always hum."

"It was...a song...my mom...used to sing...But I...forgot the lyrics..." M's eyes glance away from you for a moment, "Do you...like it...?"

"It sounds really nice," you say earnestly, attempting to ignore the intense blush spreading across your face.

"It sounded better...with words...If I learn them...I'll sing it to you..."

"O-Oh, you don't have to-"

"Ah-Ah," M taps a finger against your lips and wags it, "I've...already decided...So look forward...to it...Okay...?"

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

"You don't have anything to worry about..."

Slender fingers caress your cheeks, lifting your head and coaxing your eyes to open. Dark eyes stare into yours, their lids lifting in delight.

Your voice is slow to escape past your lips, "Raven? What...are you doing here...?"

"I've always been with you," they brush your cheek while inspecting the freshly opened wound on your brow, collecting a trickle of blood with their fingers, "We'll have to get something for this. You made me worried, you know."

The wound finally becomes apparent to you, along with the stinging memory of an assaulter's fist. Your eyes open wider.

"Where is-"

Raven moves your head back to face them, pulling you into a gentle embrace as they stroke the back of your head. "It's alright. You don't have anything to worry about..."

Their dark eyes look onwards, reflecting a world of spattered crimson centered around a indistinguishable mass of flesh and stained bones.

"You don't have to worry. I'll take care of everything for you."

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

"Eh, you're already lookin' a little scuffed up, friend," S gives you a bright smile as he strolls in the middle of your fight, "I heard there was some troublin' rousin', but I ain't expect you'd cause somethin'!"

"U-Uh, that's..." you glance sheepishly at your assaulter past the trickle of blood beginning to flow down your sightline.

They glare at the newcomer, "Who're you?"

"Oh me? I ain't no one ya know. But ya know," S justs a thumb towards you, "They've gone an' helped me out a bit. So...I'll be returnin' the favor!"

S grabs at your opponent's tie, pulling them down as they wind up to smash their forehead into theirs. As they fall, S scrapes loose dirt onto their shoe and kicks it into their face, a smug smirk on their face.

"Hey, ya ain't lookin' half bad like that. How'd'ya feel about comin' back to do it again later?"

S waves the aggressor off as they retreat before turning to you, their expression turning intensely serious as they look at your wound. "Are you okay?"

"Huh? Oh, uh, yes. You're..." the words drop off as S's face hovers mere inches before yours. Unable to hide the heat creeping up your face, S folds their arms.

"What's up? Ya gettin' sick? That stupid idiot must'a done a number on ya."

"I-I'm just a little...dehydrated...?"

"Ohh, I getcha! Well that's good, we can fix that!" S ruffles your head with a smirk, forgetting all about the welting wound.

"Ow!"

"Oh right! Whoops," they laugh, not seeming very apologetic.

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

F stares at your wound, a finger tapping under your chin as they hold your jaw steady.

"A fight was it?"

You nod.

"With whom?"

Your move your eyes away, "I don't know."

"Is that so?"

"Are you going to let go now?"

F's finger halts its drumming, "And why should I do that?"

You slide your eyes back, taking in F's jade irises as they stare intensely into yours. You clench your jaw in annoyance.

"I'm not a pet you keep."

F smiles pleasantly, "Yet it seems you're in need of a keeper. Why else would you bring such trivalties to me?"

"That's..." your mind runs blank, only circling back to their gentle smile. You look away once more, "It's nothing."

"Yes, I am certain it is," F whispers, pulling out a piece of cloth and pressing it against your wound, "It is still my place to wonder."

"Why would it be? You're no keeper."

"Yet you come to me in times of strife and suffering? You are quite an indecisive pet."

"Get one that does what you want then," you bite.

"Oh, no, you misunderstand," F's lips part in a serpentine smile, "I'm not seeking obediance. Heeling is half the reward."

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

Enjoy haha

[thethirdwheel404]

Med Rewatch Series (#16)

S3 E16: An Inconvenient Truth.

Episode description: After taking the lead on a surgery, Dr. Bekker feels the heat after something goes wrong. Dr. Manning and Dr. Charles are faced with a tough decision concerning the gender of a 9-year-old girl.

YOOO okay. Big Ava ep, ig. Also, in the previous breakdown I talked about how Ava seems to be losing her confidence, which leads directly into this ep, the prophesized panic attack/breakdown episode. How exciting. I will say, good lead in, from the previous episode.

Let’s get into it.

- connor will bromance is tops

- maggie waiting for sarah by the elevators, tapping the charge phone anxiously. nice of her. she cares.

- sarah just... watching. from the outside. it’s so interesting. bc most people whose fmaily members are getting worked on are emotional, and sarah is, but she also knows a good deal. just the... little signs of anxiety. the way her eyes just scan the scene

- sarah not going up with them

- sarah doing mental calculations, you can see it. trying to figure out if its worth ‘it’

- personally, no, bc getting close to him means inevitably leaving chicago and ava so

- connor covering for sarah. chef’s kiss. good for him

- noah trying to help sarah is nice, and funny, and a little exhausting.

- sarah in the basic white top. v professional

- noah’s ‘yes sir.’ respect the patient. (especially bc april knows him)

- OOOO AVA WITH ROLLED UP SLEEVES hahaha wowwww

- i just took a very deep breath

- ava smiling and poking fun at connor. you love to see it.

- god their back and forth is just fantastic

- connor: “are you rooting for my success?”

- ava: “not at all, i just hate winning by default.” - the way she enunciated that so deep!

- she’s confident again (that will change)

- why must she suffer. i am so scared

- god, everytime she’s on screen, i’m just like.. . <3<3<3

- ava sits back and lets them talk. let’s them set the details of the case, before she gives her two cents

- oh god she’s gonna mess up i am so fucking scared to see her like that

- like excited too but still

- AVA SUBTLY ROLLING HER EYES AT CONNOR DISAGREEING WITH HER. RAISING AN EYEBROW

- ava being so cocky with connor. it’s what she deserves

- ava immediately accusing connor of messing up? dare I say,,, defense mechanism.

- maggie telling noah to back off. good.

- the tremble in ava’s voice when she realizes it’s her suction cup, and her trying to push forward

- ava lashing out at connor

- the shake in her voice as she pushes herself as far as she can w/o breaking in the surgery

- she cannot get out of there fast enough

- aw no she’s sad

- if they kiss rn i’m gonna jump off a bridge

- GOD SAD AVA HITS SO HARD

- like, just everything. the way she leans against the lockers -

- connor misreading ava so hard. thinking she’s worried about her reputation, when really she just almost killed her patient. she cares about her patient’s well being, not her rep.

- this story where noah pretends to be this patient’s son is actually such a good moment. he’s a good guy.

- sarah being floored by this act of kindness

- sarah and her backpack again!

- sarah and noah talking is nice. know why? bc he is the only person she interacts with regularly that isn’t charles. she actually gets to have a conversation w/o ungodly amounts of stress and weight on her. she gets to smile! thank god for that

- ava, standing in latham’s office, tense, arms held behind her, standing at attention. (you can obviously tell that she’s anxious)

- connor trying to take the fall for ava. come on. (okay, you can make the argument that he knows his rep will carry him through. using his privilege for good?)

- and the annoyance (or confusion, i can’t tell) on her face

- YOOOO WHAT. THAT IS LIKE THE FIFTH TIME SHE’S OPENED THE DOOR FOR HIM. okay come on what is this pattern i’m seeing. honestly. this is insane

- GODDDDDD the adorable little shoulder bump?!?!?! bros to the max. that is adorable holy shit

- her small little smile (at this point i don’t even have to point it out, it’s pedantic)

- this ava/connor interaction and banter is peak

- william is an idiot

Okay. Honestly, not as big of an Ava ep as I thought. What did we get to see? Well, we saw what happens when she messes up at work, when she experiences a lot of stress/anxiety. This was specifically related to the well being of her patient and her not trusting (to an extent) her own abilities. Oddly enough, the anxiety resolved itself, so i don’t think there are any loose threads.

This ep did contribute to Connor’s hero complex, as well so...

We got to see Sarah have a positive conversation with Noah, which means she smiled, which is always good.

Specific to the rewrite, I don’t really see any details that need to be overwritten. All the storylines in this episode were really good, not that messy at all. So...

At the most, this ep gave us Ava under anxiety, panicking. But not so much as to make impulsive decisions. This actually wasn’t really a panic, it was more fear. she was scared of her abilities, of her mistakes. (I argue that under anxiety, high stress, not necessarily fear, she makes impulsive decisions, like sleeping with Connor, which I argued in a previous post). That is what happens under anxiety. Under fear, she starts to panic, breaks down.

So, yeah, if you believe me and think that she only slept with Connor out of anxiety, then now we’ve seen two sides of Ava’s negative thoughts. This has actually been good work

thanks for stickin with it. i am so sorry.

[tellywoodtrash]

sanjivani 23.10.19 lb

“kaafi kasssss ke gire aap mere pyaar mein.”

lmao she has zero chill.

haaaaaaaaye her heart eyes. siddhu, kaisa patthar dil sanam hai tu, jo isse andekha kar raha hai????

waise heart eyes toh idhar bhi hain.

DUDE ALL SHE WANTS TO DO IS TALK. WHY CAN’T YOU JUST TALK AND FINISH IT OFF??? YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO TELL HER THE WHOLE THING, JUST SAY YOU’RE NOT READY FOR A RELATIONSHIP RN. LIKE……. YOU’RE JUST PROLONGING THE MISERY FOR YOURSELF.

askldjaslkdjlsakjdlkj he’s threatening to complain about her for workplace harassment. I WOULD ACTUALLY KINDA LIKE TO SEE IT HAPPEN THO, JUST TO SEE WHAT PROTOCOLS THIS HOSPITAL HAS IN PLACE FOR SUCH A SITUATION.

“aapki marzi!”

my god, she’s such a dheeeeeent.

OMFGGGGGGG SHE FLIPPED IT AROUND ON HIM. ki harassment isn’t what she’s doing - “kya kahenge aap; ki ek ladki aapko chhed rahi hai, aur aap chhidna nahi chahte?” - (lbr sis, it IS harassment. this is textbook aitraaz behaviour) but instead what he’s done, by removing her from his team coz of his personal feelings for her. LOL DON’T TRY TO SCHOOL THE MASTER IN THEIR OWN AREA OF EXPERTISE, SID. SHE PROBABLY HAS ALL THE WHOLE FUCKING HR AND ETHICS MANUAL MEMORIZED.

“jis din meri duty ke beech mera dil aa gaya na, uss din main khud apni complaint kar doongi.”

“aur rahi baat saat din ki…. abhi toh shuruvaat hai!”

“kaisi AJEEEEB zidddi ladki se paala pada hai!!!!”

hahahahahahaha the resignation in his voice. bechaara.

lagta hai dheent hone ke lessons ishani juhi se le rahi hai. naaak mein dummmmm kar rakha hai dono ne apne mentors ka.

“ek kaam karte hain: patient ko OT se utaar dete hain, aap ko yahaan pe letaa dete hain, aur tumhare dimaag mein jo baat atki hui hai, usse main surgery karke nikaal deta hoon.”

snort.

LMAO THE PATIENT IS AWAKE.

juhi is totally chill with it, while shashank is mortified. lolololololol.

great, even sister philo knows why juhi was thrown out 10 years ago. onlyyyyyyy juhi doesn’t know at this point.

………… ouff kya hi baat thi? is shashank covering for juhi for something? JUST TELL US ALREADY!!!!!!

nurse philo wanting to exit her mortal body and ascend to the heavens is the most accurate reaction i’ve ever seen to having a convo overheard by the person you’re talking about.

lol kalti maar li after confirming juhi didn’t really hear anything.

rishabh baar baar apologize kar raha hai and is saying he’s so glad to get to work with ishani now. dare i hope? has he changed????? IS HE A GOOD BOY NOW???? CAN WE LIKE HIM? BECAUSE WE WANT TO LIKE HIM. WE DON’T LIKE NOT LIKING HIM.

lmao asha looks tortured to be with sid. does she actually prefer working with rishabh? hard to believe. but i guess they must have formed their own little dynamic by now.

sis, your dil is getting in the way. focus.

OMFGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG ASHA KI VOICE RISHABH MEIN SE AA RAHI HAI, ASKING KAISE PATAAYEGI SID KO, HAHAHAHAHA I CAN'TTTTT

“sheila ki jawaani.”

“WHAT? jawaan? kaun???”

omg rishabh is so adorably flummoxed and self conscious.

jaise taise mana liya ki case ke baare mein baat kar rahi hai…. and lol made him doubt his own knowledge about it and offer to reread the case. YAAAAAAR ISKO POSITIVE KAR DO, I WANT TO SEE HIM BE CUTE LIKE THIS!!!!!!

ugh girl you could have just texted.

this nazar band on the ankle is trend these days or what? surbhi’s been wearing hers since IB, but namit and rohit are wearing them too??

anjali is not liking her …… caffeine dependency, and thinks they should stop….. drinking coffee.

god anjali, stop getting hysterical. just tell him nahi chahiye teri coffee anymore and end it.

ugh. i hate men. i hate this man in particular, but god, i hateeeeeeee men.

LMAO THIS IS SO OBVIOUSLY PART OF THE HOSPITAL.

ugh anjaliiiiiiiiiiii. why are you like this????? sid se seekho kaise decision pe firm rehte hain.

menacing laddoo eating and promises to swargvaasi didi.

sid is being a bitch to asha also. dude, she just got the files like 5 minutes ago, thanks to your switcheroo.

STOP YELLING AT HER; TUM TOH AISE NA THE! YOU USED TO BE A GOOD MENTOR!!!!!!!!!!

juhi stepping in to save asha. god i love her. she’s honestly the besttttttttt.

ohhhhh nooooooooooo, he called dr. juhi “ISHANI”. bro, what is this behaviour?????

even juhi is like beta, what are you even doing????? it’s so obvious you’re all fucked up in love, literally every single person here can see it. stop torturing yourself like this.

boss!mom advice toh deke chali gayi ki dil ki suno…. karna toh isko hai na. bechaara.

i would like to thank all the known and unknown gods for this shirt of namit’s, that clings to alllllllllllll the right places.

body type se toh aman lagta hai.

LMAO SIDDHU READY TO THROW FISTS ALREADY.

waaah hospital ke pichwaade mein sekrit room bhi hai ishq ladaane ko! such thoughtful architecture. @nawaazishein​ kahin tumne toh design nahi ki yeh super useful feature?????????

lmao he sees hearts candles balloons and he’s like ishani i know it’s you!!!!!!!!

she’s like ouff kya dinnnnn aa gaye hain, manaane ke liye kya kya karna pad raha hai.

that’s heterosexuality, sis. tuney hi chuna hai yeh rasta, ab bhugat.

oh ho, hospital ka non operating wing hai. so it’s no more professional, just personal.

“tum chahti kya ho? mujhe chain se jeene nahi de sakti kya?”

lmaoooooooooooooooo he is truly so fucking done, the poor thing. i really feel his exhaustion, with like…. life.

“ab kya karoon; bimaari hai hi aisi, ilaaj bhi kadak hi karna hoga.”

save these two idiots from themselves!!!!!!!!!!

WELL DAMN.

DUDE IF YOU DON’T WANT HER, I VOLUNTEER. FUCK. SHE’S HOT AS HELL.

oh never mind, looks like you’ve changed your mind. carry on.

but he might also be having a little stroke, so i hope asha/rahil are somewhere close by for medical attention.

“kaisi lag rahi hoon main?”

lmao badiiiiii mushkil se he tore his gaze away from her boobs.

lollllllllllllllllllll sis what you doing???

HIS FACE!!!!!!!!!!!! haha awwwwww.

when zakir khan talks about sakht launda…….. THIS IS WHOM HE’S TALKING ABOUT. THE SAKHTEST OF ALL LAUNDAS!!!!!!!

i knew this would be a callback to the armaan-riddhima zara zara touch me. I KNEW IT. I KNEWWWWWWWW IT.

lmao ok this is some very awkward dancing. don’t quit your day job behen.

hahahahahahaha oh ishaaaaani.

lmaooooooooo pushed him down on the couch and he sat on a balloon and it phodofied. kya hi disasterrrrrrrr seduction hai yeh.

behold, the paragon of self control.

her long-suffering face while doing these things is honestly sending me.

yeah you love it, you asshole.

INSTANT SHIFT IN TONE OF SCENE. THINGS ARE HEATING UP.

THE SOFT EYES ARE BAAAAAAAAAACK.

we all know ki kal isko trauma flashbacks aayenge and he’ll run away, but for today, i’m gonna savour this and headcanon ki they had a nice handsy makeout session. 

[ohbutwebestmakepeacewithit]

um firstofall omg did not know u we British!! um r u a southerner...or a northerner that's the real question here??? As for me im on a roadtrip rn destination is college Ohio and omg this heat wave in the south is insane im in new mexico rn and I've been suffering from heat exhaustion

i’m actually australian! 🐨 what made you think i was english? 🙊🙊 i hope you don’t dehydrate yourself, keep those fluids up babe! i am slightly jealous you’ve got hot weather atm though! it’s winter here and i can’t go outside without my ski jacket on!!