#Okay this is really scattered sorry but you know what I mean yeah?

[evilvarric666-archive]

guy standing in the corner at a party meme They don't know about TOS Kirk's fucked up traumatic backstory

[lvndrfucks]

don’t leave me hanging omg, write the concept. miguel brain rot is on 24/7 — 🧠

You were surprised none of Miguel’s neighbors had complained yet. There were teenagers scattered all around the inside of Johnny’s apartment and the outside, loud music blasting and a fair share of drinks being passed around. At least everyone was getting along after the long overdue karate feud.

You were nursing a red solo cup while standing in the corner of the room, taking small sips. The taste of alcohol didn’t really appeal to you. Your friends engaged in chatter that you chimed in once in awhile, but you were a bit distracted.

“Are you going to talk to him or keep eye-fucking?”

“What?” Your eyes moved away from Miguel’s. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You guys have been staring at each other all night,” your friend pointed out. “He’s single, you’re single.” She made gestures with her hands for emphasis.

You shook your head while looking down to hide how red your face had gotten. “He doesn’t like me like that. We’re friends.”

“Lame,” your other friend bursted. “Go talk to him! Congratulate him on winning karate again or something.”

You rolled your eyes while taking a drink to avoid the conversation.

Her friend smirked suddenly with an idea. “Hey, can I borrow your jacket? I’m a little cold.”

You were feeling hot from the crowded room, so you were a little confused on how she was the opposite, but you did so nevertheless. You removed the cropped denim jacket to expose more of the little black dress you had on. You smiled while handing it to her.

Miguel felt his mouth go dry. His eyes scanned up and down your body from afar, the silk perfectly hugging your body and exposing valleys of skin he had never seen before.

A pat on his shoulder made him jump as he was forced to look away.

“Hey, man,” Hawk greeted. He noticed you and looked back at Miguel with a smirk. “You gonna make a move tonight, or what?”

Miguel chuckled nervously and shook his head. “I don’t think she likes me like that. I mean, we’ve been friends since we were both in Cobra Kai. Isn’t that a bit weird?”

Hawk scoffed. “No. That just builds up more chemistry. And pent up frustration.” Miguel looked at him curiously as he clarified. “Sexual frustration.”

“Dude.”

“It’s true! Remember that time you went out with Sam and she nearly broke some kid’s arm. Or when she got asked out and you broke the practice dummy.”

Even though Hawk’s statements were technically true, Miguel still had his doubts. What would a girl like you want with a guy like him?

“You just gotta go for it, man. Before someone else does,” Hawk advised and motioned his head towards Chris and Mitch who had started talking to you. You immediately started smiling and laughing at what they were saying.

Miguel held back a glare as he handed his cup to Hawk. He cheered, “That’s my boy!”

Your laughter died down as Miguel approached the three of you. You smiled at him in greeting that he returned before looking at Chris and Mitch.

“Robby wants you guys to refill the cooler outside,” he told them.

“But I just did five minutes ago,” Mitch said.

“Well, he wants you to do it. Again.”

Miguel was grateful Chris was the smarter one between the two as he was beginning to catch on.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.” There was almost a smug smile on Chris’ face. “Come on, man.” He began dragging Mitch away, the boy complaining that he already did once again.

That just left you and Miguel.

You glanced behind you to see your friends had ran off somewhere, of course. There was a small beat of silence between you two.

“How are you?”

“This is a great party.”

You two spoke at the same time. You both laughed.

“Sorry. You go first,” Miguel insisted.

“I said this is a great party,” you repeated. “I’m surprised your mom was okay with it.”

“Well, Johnny told her that it was just Miyagi-Do and Eagle Fang ‘hanging out.’”

When you were about to respond, someone knocked into you. As you tripped forward slightly, Miguel had his arms out to catch you. You sheepishly apologized while standing straight.

“Um, did you wanna go somewhere less crowded,” he proposed.

You nodded and started following him out. People from school were still showing up and it seemed the outside was becoming just as packed. You maneuvered around while still trying to keep up with Miguel. He turned to face you and offered his hand out so you wouldn’t lose each other. You took it, trying to hide your growing smile.

He guided you across towards his apartment. He opened the door and let you inside first. You were still able to hear the music and chatter of people, but it reduced slightly. Plus, you guys were completely alone now.

“Sorry. I thought it would be better here to talk and stuff. Unless you wanted to go back to the party. I’m fine with either, I just assumed—“

“It’s fine, Miguel,” you cut him off with a light chuckle. “It was getting a little overwhelming out there.” You set your empty cup on the dining table and moved to lean on the edge of the couch.

“C-can I tell you something,” he asked, standing in front of you.

“You can tell me anything.”

Your smile made him weak in the knees. His hands suddenly felt clammy as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“I…I really like you.”

“I like you too.”

Miguel gulped. “No. I mean I like-like you. Like more than friends type of way.”

“Oh.”

Oh?

“If you don’t feel the same way, it’s fine. I get it. We’ve been friends for a long time and I understand not wanting to ruin that. It’s just that when I’m around you, I feel different. Different like you’re the one person in my life I’d hate to lose or I wouldn’t mind kissing. You know, that was probably a really weird thing to say. I’m sorry—“

“Miguel.” You laughed a bit. “It’s okay. I like-like you too.”

“Really,” he breathed out in disbelief.

You nodded. “And you’re the person I wouldn’t mind kissing either.”

Your hands reached forward to grasp his flannel and pull him closer towards you. The heels gave you an advantage to be nearly face to face with him. The close proximity made you both nervous, but someone had to make the first move.

Meeting halfway, Miguel’s lips pressed against yours in a savory kiss. His hands rested on his either side of your neck, his thumbs on the underside of your jaw and pulling you in even closer. You pulled away briefly, seeing his heart-shaped pupils and puffed lips parted. He pulled you back in with urgency.

There was only the heat of the moment, the electricity between you two, and the pure, unbridled passion of your kiss. It was a moment you would remember forever, a moment that would stay with you long after the kiss had ended.

The buzz of Miguel’s phone brought you back to Earth. He seemed to have no intention of stopping, though.

You pulled away, his lips immediately attaching to the side of your neck. “Do you wanna get that,” you asked, slightly breathless.

“Not really,” Miguel answered and kissed you again.

His phone eventually stopped until whoever was calling decided to call again. You laughed slightly at Miguel’s annoyance when he pulled away.

“It’s okay,” you reassured, one of your hands combing through his hair.

Miguel begrudgingly answered the phone with a haughty, “What?”

“Dude, where are you,” Hawk asked from the other line.

“I’m a little busy right now.” Miguel pinched your hip lightly in warning as you continued sucking on the skin of his neck.

“Well, I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I need a beer pong partner.”

“Ask Robby.” Your hand began to trail down his body.

“I’m going against him, dumbass.”

He held back a groan when you squeezed his hard on over his jeans. “I gotta go.”

“But—“

Miguel hung up and tossed his phone on the couch. You yelped in surprise when he lifted you, your legs wrapping around his waist in response.

Once in his room, he had shut the door swiftly with his foot. Next thing you knew, you were lying back on the bed with Miguel hovering over you, leaving wet kisses and sucking on your exposed chest. One of your hands was threaded in his hair as the other tightly gripped the comforter. His hand slowly trailed up your thigh, giving a soft squeeze and earning a low moan from you.

Miguel pushed the bottom of your dress up to your stomach, exposing the black shorts underneath. He looked at you as you were panting already from the build up.

"You okay," he whispered.

"Of course."

He pecked your lips before going down on his knees at the edge of the bed. He ran his hands over your thighs, placing light kisses ever so often. Eventually, he hooked his fingers onto the waistband of your shorts and pulled them off, leaving just your underwear.

Miguel was hesitant at first as he ran his thumb over the wet patch, but you moaned softly from above as you tried closing your legs if he wasn't in the way. He repeated the motion with more pressure, causing you to jolt. He enjoyed the reactions.

He gently guided your underwear over your hips and slid them out from under you. A soft gasp emitted as you felt Miguel slip his tongue between your lips. Your mind went blank as he licked, his tongue spreading over your clit in smooth strokes. His open mouth panted heavy, moist breaths over your cunt, absorbing every drop of essence as it pooled on his tongue.

Your fingers tugged on his hair, your back arching off the bed slightly. You could feel a growing sensation low in your stomach, your orgasm twisting and winding into a tight knot.

A sudden gasp fell from your lips as he slowly pushed a finger inside of you. You inhaled sharply, eyes rolling back as he pushed his pointer finger in knuckle by knuckle until he rubbed the tip of his finger against that tougher spot inside of you.

His finger slipped in and out a few times until he added a second. It made you choke, walls clamping down and tightening painfully, tears pricking your eyes in a mix of pain and pleasure. Miguel kept them still as he leaned forward to press soft kisses on your clit.

“You're doing so good, baby. I just need to relax, okay?"

You nodded, even though you were sure he couldn't see it. You exhaled loudly, gasping just as loud before groaning and bucking your hips unconsciously. He resumed pushing in and out, his fingers shined with arousal.

You could feel every inch of his fingers inside as his mouth continued to stay hot and slick against your cunt, letting his spit collect all around. Your eyes rolled back when your stomach began twisting, feeling as though something was on your chest. You whimpered, followed by a groan of his name as your body relaxed once the knot snapped, and your vision blurred.

Miguel lapped up the mess and licked his fingers clean, watching the way your chest rose and fell rapidly. You looked utterly fucked the way your hair was sprawled out and little breaths leaving your plump lips, your head tilted to the side and eyes still shut.

He moved beside you and kissed your temple, combing your hair back. “You still got one more left for me?”

With shining eyes, you looked up at him and nodded.

Miguel grinned as he started to remove his flannel and shirt. Your thighs rubbed together while staring at him undo his jeans. You shakily stood on your knees and shuffled closer to him.

He gave you a tender, slow kiss, but you weren’t ready for such gentleness at this point in time. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer to you. A low groan released from his throat as his hands moved from your hips to the zipper of your dress. You pulled away to disregard the rest of your clothing before pulling Miguel onto the bed.

He sat back as you straddled him, lips moving together once more. Reaching between the two of you, you grabbed his leaking cock so you could set him up at your entrance. As you lowered yourself, you inhaled slowly through your nose since the preparation and care he had given you had made the stretch easy to endure. As a result, all you felt was the full sensation he had given you.

You performed an exploratory hip roll once you were seated completely. You let out a groan at the feeling, every little motion causing electricity to tingle through your body.

Miguel sat up, you two now chest to chest while he held you firmly. “Fuck, you feel fucking amazing.” He placed wet kisses along your chest.

The noises of the party drowned out his moans as you began to ride him in earnest. His hands settled on your hips, causing the soft flesh to crease as he started responding to your thrusts with his own. You could feel him moving deeper with every motion, until eventually you could almost feel him in your stomach.

“Miguel,” you gasped out, meeting his gaze.

“I’ve got you, amor.” His mouth attached to one of your breasts, making you whimper.

His actions left your limbs feeling like rubber while he proceeded to fuck into you harder. Your tongue grazed his flushed skin, your head tucked into his neck.

“Making me feel so good,” you told him gently in his ear. “Want you to finish in me. Want all of you.”

Your babbling was cut off by a higher pitched moan at Miguel’s hard thrusts, your words egging him on more.

“Think you can take it all, baby?” His forehead pressed against yours as you nodded with a pleading look. “I’ll give you everything. Again. Again. And again.” He punctuated with each thrust, your grip on his shoulders tightening. “You gonna cum? Can feel it.”

“Please.”

Your loud moans echoed throughout the room as your legs tightened around his, your body moving faster to keep you on your high. You could feel Miguel spilling out of you, the warm feeling comforting the both of you. His arms wrapped around your waist to cease your shudders as he placed light kisses upon your shoulder.

Miguel, though he didn’t want to, slowly removed himself from you, a small whimper slipping past your lips. He laid you down on his bed and told he’d be right back. When he returned, he had a damp washcloth in one hand and a water bottle in the other. He carefully cleaned you up, knowing your legs must be sore, and sat you up to take a few sips of water.

He smiled gently at you and kissed your forehead, making your face flush in admiration. He grabbed an extra t-shirt for you and changed into a pair of new boxers for himself. Once settled beside you, Miguel draped the comforter over both of your bodies.

You both stared at each other, a grin on your lips as you leaned forward for one last kiss in the night.

hera speaks!

sorry for the long wait. i honestly get embarrassed writing smut, but this has been on my mind for a long time

[luveline]

omg would die for a concussion fic with remus <33

—your concussion causes moderate memory loss, and you forget some very important details about your relationship with Remus. fem, 1.3k

“This is nice.” 

You toy with the ring on Remus’ finger, turning it around and around and around. With your weight bearing down on his right arm and your hand secured around his left to stop him from moving, there isn’t much he can do besides say, “Yeah?” 

“I love when guys wear rings.” 

“I had a suspicion.” 

You wince as stars flash through your vision, pausing in your toying to press your face into his chest. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“I can see black and white spots.” 

“Oh, no,” he says sympathetically. “Close them, dovey. Take a breather.” 

The chair under you is uncomfortable, your back aches, your head twinges, but Remus is comfortable to lean again. He’s wearing one of his big hoodies, old enough to feel like brushed cotton under your cheek and against your nose, decals washed away. He steals his hand back to pat your shoulder, an image of patience. 

“Sorry. This isn’t a good second date.” 

Remus leans down to talk near your ear. “Dove,” he whispers, “this isn’t our second date, remember?” 

“It’s not?” 

“No, sweetheart. But that’s okay.” 

“You’re really handsome so I don’t want to mess it up.” 

“Mess what up, the date?” he asks. “You didn’t mess it up, it went very well. It was a year ago, but.” He smiles, his breath warming your face, his arm hot around you and securing you to his chest.

“A year ago?” 

“Yeah, a year ago. We went to winter wonderland and the bookshop by the train station and you wouldn’t let me buy you any books.” He laughs softly. “But I got you one eventually. A couple by now, at least.” 

“That’s nice.” 

“You’ve bought me a hundred more, it’s awful.” 

You raise your head to squint at him. “I have?”

“So many,” he whispers, dipping his chin down to kiss your nose, to your wide-eyed delight. “But you let me look after you in other ways.” 

“Let you?” 

“Yes, let me. It’s part of…” He cups your cheek quickly. “Sickness and health and everything. I have to keep you happy.” 

“Ah.” His ring is warm on your cheek. “Sickness and health, like we’re married.” 

“Something like that.” 

You straighten up as someone behind you coughs aggressively. A little further down a baby cries against a mother’s chest, and the TV plays a quiz show you’re starting to hate. Moving your head has black haunting the sides of your vision again, the light seeping in from the automatic doors too much to handle. 

“I’ve asked Sirius to bring you some sunglasses.” 

You turn around. “Sirius, that’s the one with the motorbike?” 

“Yeah. He should be quick. But maybe they’ll have called you in again by then and we can go home.” 

That’s right. You’ve been seen once by a doctor for triage, and sent back out again when they deemed you only mildly concussed, no bleeding on the brain, but an X-ray ordered for safety's sake anyways. That’s what you’re waiting for. Remus is waiting with you, because he’s a very nice man. 

“Sorry if I’m ruining your Saturday.” 

Remus’ hair falls from behind his ear as he lifts his head properly. “I think you might be having a worse day than me, so I’ll forgive you. I'm joking!” He tucks that stray strand behind his ear unsuccessfully. “You could never ruin my Saturday. I’d spend the entire bank holiday weekend in here with you, I only want them to look after you so I can finish the job.” 

Heat like a kiss on each cheek. You bring your hand to your nose, overwhelmed. “Really?” 

“We spend a lot of time together, sweetheart. I know you don’t remember right now, but I love you.” 

“You do?” 

“Don’t tell me you can’t feel that.” 

You look at him with the sunshine caressing the side of his face, his three mean scars and his scattered beauty spots. He has thick eyebrows, light brown eyes in the sun like honeyed tea, and a playful smile. More frown lines than smile lines, but the beginnings of crows feet speaks to some joy, at least. You bring your thumb up to a small wrinkle and stroke it, before tucking his hair behind his ear. It’s too short to stay put for long. 

“I love you,” you say surely. You do, even if you can’t remember more than your first date. 

He’s a good kisser, you remember. He’d pulled you back from your door and kissed you like you’d stolen the breath straight from his lungs. 

“I know.” He brings your hand from his ear to kiss. Gentle, he strokes your knuckles, his thumb turning a golden ring where it sits on your marriage finger. 

“It’s really like we’re married, we have matching rings,” you laugh. 

He holds his hand up between you. “We are married, lovely girl.” 

You steal your hand back. He waits without hurry, though a line of concern marks his brow. “Are we? When did we get married?” 

“Only a few days ago, but we’re married. This wasn’t on the honeymoon agenda.” 

He takes your hand with care and shows you the gold ring on your marriage finger to match his own, aligning your hands. The colour hadn’t seemed important a moment ago, nor the placement, but now you’re seeing them you realise you’d made a small misjudgement. It’s not like you’re married at all, you simply are. 

You frown. The way he’s holding your hand feels familiar, though the idea that you’re married is preposterous. You can’t remember any ceremony or reception, a proposal, nothing. There’s simply blank space there, which isn’t very nice. But… 

You’re not scared. You haven’t been worried once all day. 

“You have a concussion,” he says quietly, practised, like he’s said it to you before. “And it’s resulted in some amnesia, but it’s going to get better very soon.” 

“We’re definitely married?” 

“Unless you’ve changed your mind.” 

“I don’t want to change my mind.” You fluster quickly with what you’ve said, looking down at the hospital’s linoleum flooring. 

Remus takes your hand where it lays on your thigh and squeezes it. A thread of memory tugs at the touch; you remember this. His tender concern. His constant support. 

“Then you don’t have to. Whether you remember me or not, I’m here to look after you, okay? I’m right here.” 

You nod without looking up. His hand knows yours no matter what you remember, rubbing at all the best parts, holding with the perfect amount of pressure. 

“You okay?” 

“I guess our second date really did go well.” 

“Better than I could ever explain.” He tugs at your hand until you look at him, his head already ducked to keep you pinned by his gaze. “You’re like my shy girl all over again. I forgot how nervous you used to get.” 

You can see the Remus who became your husband and the one who scared butterflies into action every time he looked at you coalescing. “You’re really good-looking,” you explain. 

“And what do you think you are?” He rubs your hand. “You’re beautiful. Can I have a kiss, dove? Is that okay?” 

You squeeze your eyes closed. You’d been fighting stars in your eyes anyways.

When Remus kisses you, your body responds to his touch like it knows him. Your heart thuds against your ribs, your lips know exactly how to move and when he’s going to turn his head. Love for him shines through it. His love for you makes your chest hurt, his chaste kissing like a straight shot of oxytocin. All your worry saps away. 

“Feel any better?” he asks knowingly.

You remember enough about his teasing to withhold an answer. He kisses your cheek, his smile unmissable on your skin. 

[parkerluvsu]

Boyfriend Art going to a boys night out and getting drunk and Patrick calling you to go get your boyfriend because he's been talking about you the whole time and talking about how much he is in love with you and all and when you go back home things lead to a hot makeout session while he's telling how much he's so lucky to be your boyfriend and how he is so obsessed with you

this is so cute omg.. i need bf art in my life so bad!!!

all you wanted was a chill night in, no parties, no loud neighbors, and no hangovers. when art said that patrick invited him to a frat party on the other side of campus, sitting at the foot of your bed with puppy dog eyes, you couldn't say no. but, you made him promise not to come back too drunk or too late. art agreed, letting patrick drag him to the party around 10.

it was almost 1 now, and you were cuddled up in your blankets binge watching your favorite show when you felt your phone vibrate from under the mountain of fuzzy fabric. patricks caller id flashed on the screen as you accepted the call.

"patrick? what's up, are you guys okay?"

"hey um.. art got pretty wasted tonight.. he got a hold of some pink whitney and you know how he gets so.."

you sigh, shaking your head, before you hear some rustling on the other end of the line.

"'s this her?" you hear a little hiccup from the voice you now recognize as arts. "'m sorry baby i didn't know it was g'nna get m' drunk.." another hiccup "feels like the room is spinning.." another rustle.

"yeah well.. you heard him.. can you come pick him up? ill send you our location"

you agree to drive over, pulling on one of arts old hoodies and driving over as quick as you can. pulling up at the frat house, you see a scattering of red solo cups on the lawn, along with some beer cans. you wait in your car for a minute before you see patrick helping art down the front steps, and you open your door when patrick helps strap art in. patrick pokes his head through the window, "again, sorry about this, he just kept asking for you.." patrick sighs, looking at art, whose gaze is fixed only on you. arts watery blue eyes look at you like you've hung the stars themselves, and it isn't even only because he's drunk, he looks at you that way always.

the drive home is quiet, with arts occasional hiccups disrupting the silence. art leans over when you're at a stoplight, the red lights illuminating his face, "'m really sorry.. i didn't wan' you to be angry at me" he says, pouting at you as you continue the drive home. you shake your head, "im not mad at you art, i just always want you to be safe okay? i don't want to have to worry about you so much.." art hangs his head and nods, falling quiet again.

by the time you arrive at your dorm, arts still hiccuping, stumbling over his own feet as you usher him into your room, not keen of waking anyone up at the early hour of the morning. art flops onto your bed, his head bouncing on your pillow, the movement causing a groan to erupt from his lips.

you root around in your drawers, trying to find an old pair of his boxers and a shirt. suddenly, you feel a pair of hands wrap around your waist, a head presses against your neck and you feel a sigh of warm air against you. "art.. go sit on the bed" you sigh, pulling some clothes out for him. art presses wet kisses along your shoulder, nuzzling his nose into your skin. "'m sorry.. please f'give me.. didn't mean to make you angry" he whines, squeezing your waist. you shake you head, turning around in his arms, "im not angry art.. please go sit down so you can change.." you sigh, breaking away from his arms and leading him to the bed. art sits on the edge of the bed, his alcohol-muddled brain causing him to stare off into space. you tap art's arms, silently asking him to raise them, pulling his stained shirt off of his body with ease.

you can't deny it.. any anger that was in your body when you drove art home is gone now, seeing his slightly messy hair and pale skin glowing in the moonlight only makes you want to take care of him more. once his shirt is off you hand him an older t-shirt he left at your place, watching him put it on before handing him some pajama pants. you get art situated in bed, walking to the kitchen and filling up a glass of water and walking back.

art looks up at you blearily, tucked into the corner of your bed and where it meets the wall. you slide into bed next to him, feeling his body slump into yours once again, his face smushed into your shoulder. his hiccups have gone now, just soft breaths against your skin. it's completely silent, until art takes a sharp breath in. "i- i don' think patrick told you but everyone at the party was so annoyed with me.. couldn't stop talking about you.." that catches your attention, making your heart thump in your chest. "i swear patrick wanted to kill me, i know he's just jealous though.." you can't help but fall for the bait, "whys he jealous?" you ask. art presses closer to you, his nose almost touching yours, "cuz you're perfect.. 'n sweet 'n amazing.." he presses a small peck on your lips for each word, a tipsy smile emerging on his face. his smile is infectious, and you can't help but kiss him back, smiling against his lips, "is that so?" you add. he huffs against you, letting you take the lead against his clumsy lips. you can still taste the sweet liquor on his lips, almost making you feel intoxicated yourself. art leans into you more, placing his hands on your knees and moving further. "'s true.. 'm fuckin' obsessed with you.." he groans out, now growing more confident in his movements.

you let the kiss grow more heated until you feel arts hands starting to creep under your shirt, and you pull away slowly, letting a string of drool connect you. art blinks at you, confused. "why'd you stop?" he practically pouts. "you're drunk art, you know i love you but you gotta sleep this off" you say, sweeping a thumb on his cheek. as if on cue, art yawns, only proving your point. he slumps into bed, pulling up a blanket from the foot of your bed. "fine.. but we continue this tomorrow, yeah?" he asks, one last request before falling asleep. "sure, sure art" you reply, running your fingers through his soft blond hair. you're sure art won't remember all of this in the morning, but you sure as hell won't let him forget it <3

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Accidentally Bring Up an Insecurity |Hyunjin

The evening was quiet in the shared apartment you and Hyunjin lived in. The air was filled with a gentle hum from the city outside and the occasional flicker of streetlights casting shadows on the walls. You were sprawled on the couch, your laptop open in front of you, surrounded by papers and notes. A mountain of work and a looming deadline had you feeling overwhelmed, and the pressure was building up inside you.

But you couldn't manage the stress and just sat there, letting it ruminate in your mind that you had these deadlines.

So while you were getting some work done, it was getting done really slowly, and you were utterly exhausted.

But all your life you had been told you were lazy; so work ethic had been engrained in you, and you felt like sometimes it was all you knew how to do.

The deadlines making you stressed, but the stress not allowing you to work on the things that were due. But your deep seeded insecurity making it so you pushed yourself to work even when you weren't in the mental state to do so.

Hyunjin entered the living room, fresh from a dance practice, his face flushed and his clothes slightly damp with sweat.

His dark hair was a little bit stringy with perspiration, a testament to the amount of work he had put in.

"Baby, I'm home."

He greeted you with a warm smile, but his eyes quickly took in the scene of scattered papers and your furrowed brow. “Hey, you look like you’re buried under a lot of work. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile and tried to sound upbeat. “Yeah, just a bit of a tight deadline. I’ll get through it.”

The tall(ish) boy cocked his head at you and set down his duffel bag, opting to walk barefoot rather than put on the matching house slippers you guys had.

Yours were kicked off somewhere in the kitchen.

Hyunjin sat down next to you, glancing at the mess around you. “You know, you don’t have to take on everything at once. Maybe you should take a break or get some help.”

You shook your head, trying to push the frustration down. “I’ll be fine. I just need to power through it.”

Hyunjin’s gaze softened with concern. “I know you’re strong, but it’s okay to admit when you’re struggling. You don’t have to handle everything by yourself.”

"Hyunjin, I said I'm fine."

He huffed. "You're not fine Y/N. I see your obviously struggling."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"Hyunjin stop-"

"No. Take a break."

"I need to get this done."

"Your mental health comes first." He stated firmly, collecting your papers.

"Hyunjin stop-"

"Not until you eat." He said collecting your papers. "You need to step away from this for a second-" He grabbed multiple piles of papers that were obviously separated and you let out a noise as Hyunjin put the piles together, then adding it into another pile of other papers.

"Hyunjin what the fuck?!" You exclaimed as you rushed up from the couch and started sorting through the papers. "Shit..." You groaned, feeling tears brim your eyes in anger and frustration and exhaustion. "Are you kidding me right now Hyunjin?" You grit out looking at him.

Hyunjin stood resolute. "No, I'm serious Y/N! You're mental health is declining! You're focused on work so much that you don't even have time to focus on anything else! Even taking care of yourself, are you seriously okay with that?!"

His voice was loud, and you logically knew he wasn't yelling at you; he didn't mean to yell, he wasn't angry he was concerned but you didn't want to process the reality of the situation.

So instead you burst out into tears.

Hyunjin's eyes immediately widened, thinking you were crying because of him.

"Baby- no, no, no, baby don't cry please...please..." He said making his way to you. "No, I didn't mean to make you cry...I'm sorry...baby...I'm sorry..."

You fell limp into his arms and he held you, his chin resting on top of his head as you cried into his chest.

His sweet nothings became silent when he realized you just needed him to hold you.

You felt secure in his embrace, his scent adding a level to that security.

It seemed that you two stood there forever, until Hyunjin looked down to see you had fallen asleep.

Hyunjin knew something was up as he moved you over to the couch, running his hands through your hair.

He let you sleep there, as he looked at your laptop, screen filled with things that he didn;t understand, but knew were of importance to your job.

He sighed and wished he could do something to help, looking at the pile of papers and realizing that he had probably messed up something based on your reaction.

You woke up, and the lights in your living room were still on, but the clock in it showed that it was 4 in the morning.

"Jagiya?" Hyunjin said quietly, rubbing his eyes as you sat up from his lap.

You noticed he was still in his practice clothes.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

Hyunjin shook his head, looking at you with tired eyes. "Are you okay?"

You blinked.

"Are you truly okay?" He asked quietly.

You swallowed and shook your head.

"Can you help me at least understand? Help me understand why work is so important that you set aside your needs?"

You opened your mouth, it felt dry but you spoke.

"I just have to." You said, not wanting to discuss things further at the moment.

Hyunjin was tempted to ask you to continue, but he knew you would come to him when you needed.

The next day went buy in a flash, as you spent most of it sorting out what Hyunjin had mixed together.

That evening, as you both settled down for bed, the tension from the previous day seemed to linger in the quiet space of your room. Hyunjin lay on his side, scrolling through his phone, while you lay on your back, staring at the ceiling.

“Hyunjin,” you said quietly, breaking the silence. “Do you ever get overwhelmed with things, but keep going to make other people happy?”

He looked over at you, his brow slightly furrowed. He set his phone down and turned his body to you. “Do you?”

You hesitated before responding, your voice tinged with vulnerability. “I'm tired but...I don't want to be called lazy. I've spent my entire life being labeled that and I came here to start over. Yet...I feel like...I'm not measuring up. Maybe those people were right to call me lazy. I'm stuck in a cycle of wanting to quit, because I'm tired to the point of tears Hyunjin, I'm tired.” You licked some of the tears off your top lip and gulped for air. "But I don't want people to think I'm quitting because I'm lazy I just don't know if I can handle it anymore."

Hyunjin’s expression shifted from curiosity to concern. He sat up, turning to face you fully. “Did my comment hurt you?”

The vulnerability in your voice had clearly affected him. He reached out and took your hand gently. “I don’t want you to think that it was meant to hurt you. Rather, love, I'm sort of disproving your insecurity...not invalidating but disproving. Because I think you work too much, love. I see you day after day work yourself until you can barely move. It hurts me to see you disregard yourself for something like work.”

You felt one tear escape as you looked at him, trying to keep your emotions in check. “It’s just hard when that's how I've programmed my brain."

Hyunjin’s expression softened further, and he scooted closer to you, pulling you into a comforting embrace. “I want you to know that it’s okay to lean on me when you’re feeling overwhelmed. You don’t have to go through everything alone. Your struggles are valid, and I’m here to support you.”

You nestled into his embrace, finding solace in the warmth of his presence. Letting yourself completely go. “I'm tired, Jinnie. I can't take it anymore.”

Hyunjin stroked your hair gently, his voice soothing. “Do you love me?”

You sniffed and nodded.

"Then, can you stop hurting the person I love most and let me take care of them?" He murmured while brushing your hair back from your face so it wouldn't stick to the tears.

You couldn't even reply, but by the way your fingers tightened their grip around his shirt he took it as enough of an answer.

The room was filled with a sense of calm as you both lay there together, the weight of the day slowly lifting. Hyunjin’s reassuring words and the comfort of his embrace helped to ease the anxiety you had been carrying and quickly lulled you to sleep.

In the months that followed, Hyunjin worked silently to make sure that you didn't have to feel stressed. He made you use up your vacation time- weeks upon weeks that had piled up due to your refusal to use them.

And the week before your vacation ended, Hyunjin came to you, squatting down in front of you as you sat on the floor of his art studio, covered in paint and splattering it everywhere in abstract expression. You had a real smile on your face as you looked up at him, a bit of red paint streaked across you making it look like you had a unibrow.

"Hi, Jinnie!" You exclaimed rubbing the paint onto your pants. Hyunjin smiled and spoke.

"You're happy." He stated.

"I am, it's...been really nice. Not having to work..." You bit your lip. "I go back next week."

Hyunjin licked his bottom lip. "How about you don't?"

You stared at him wide eyed.

"Come work with me. I talked to the company and explained everything. They're okay with you coming to work for us. You've always liked taking pictures, so they're willing to offer you a position as a photographer. It'll only be about 30 hours a week because of our other photographers; and you might not have to anything other than really be at the photoshoots to help out the others, but they're kind and you can still stay around us when you're not working. Or, you can help script some of our videos. Or my personal favorite is you just travel and hang out with me and let me invest all my money in you." His head was tilted slightly as he looked at you.

"Do...Can I really do that? Work for you guys? You won't think I'm lazy?"

Your hopeful and amazed tone broke Hyunjin's heart slightly, that the opportunity to work a less cumbersome job was something so foreign to you that you were that excited.

"Of course, baby." He said so quietly it was almost inaudible.

You nodded enthusiastically, looking for your phone. "I need to write my two weeks and-"

"No, baby. Just quit. Don't worry about the repercussions or anything. Let me take care of you. No one is going to call you lazy. I won't allow it. Because taking care of yourself is a job within itself. A never ending one at that."

He placed a kiss on your cheek.

"So, don't let that be an insecurity anymore. Let me take on your workload. Take all your effort."

He smiled.

"And put it into you, because you're the priority now."

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

[lcriedlastnight]

Idiots in love with Oscar

"Can you stop smiling? I'm literally having a seizure suppressing the urge to kiss you."

omg anon, i literally love you so much.

tw: fem! reader, tried my hand at a little goofy story idk if it's good if it's not ignore it pls :), lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1k

oscar was a quiet a reserved guy, this almost everyone knew. he was private and did not like discussing anything outside of racing or letting it take up much space in his mind. but there was a few times where his guard was down completely and he was free to act how ever he felt like and that was when he was with you.

it could not have been any earlier than one am and both you and oscar had just come back from a lovely date night. you had both done your nightly routines, standing right next to each other just like you always did and had both clambered into bed. you could tell oscar was in a happier head space compared to earlier on in the week. loving touches and little jokes were scattered all the way home and even when you were both brushing your teeth before you had gotten into bed.

instead of getting into bed and turning the bedside lamps off, you sit against the head board as you watch oscar walk around to his side of the bed.

"what you looking at, missy?" oscar asks, cheeky smile on his face as he sits down beside you.

"you, sexy boy." you smirk back while oscar grimaces.

"ugh what's wrong with you! you know i hate that word." he groans, his head falling back but he had clearly misjudged how far the top of the headboard was and his head thumped against it. another groan comes from the man, while you fall into a fit of giggles. you are quite literally doubled in two in laughter as you lean into his side.

"are- are you okay?" you ask once the laughter has calmed down a little. oscar rolls his eyes at you, hand clutching the back of his head.

"no i'm not okay! i just banged my head! i could have a concussion and here you are pissing your pants!" oscar complains. it sets you off again. maybe you should have skipped that glass of wine with dinner. you know oscar does not really mean what he says, he has always been a crybaby.

"yeah, you just sit there and laugh. i'm sure that'll make me feel better." oscar moans.

"what do you want me to do, you want me to kiss it better?" you tease, crawling back up his side. your smile was blinding as you felt genuine happiness for the first time in a while. in your opinion, nothing beats times like these with your boyfriend, they were some of your fondest memories.

"fuck off." is all you get back. it makes you chuckle.

you sit there grinning at him like an idiot for a while, replaying the incident in your mind, trying to not laugh again. oscar just stares back with an almost constipated look, is what you would call it.

"can you stop smiling? i'm literally having a seizure trying to supress the urge to kiss you." oscar finally pipes up.

"oh, you definitely have a concussion." you tell him, acting serious. your hands come to clutch at the back of his head, feeling for the sore spot. you know once you find it because of the high pitched yelp oscar lets out.

"why would you do that!? it really hurts!" oscar scolds, you just smile at him. a sweet "sorry" escaping your lips. oscar lets out a "hmph." and pulls you in closer to have you straddling his thighs. your hands come to rest just underneath his ears.

"you gotta kiss me now to say sorry." oscar tells you, a smarmy smile on his face, meanwhile you look at him with one brow raise, comically, in suspicion.

"yeah? what do i have to be sorry for, osc?" you question him.

"this was all your fault!"

"it's my fault that you banged your head on the headboard?" oscar nods and pulls you in a little closer by your waist.

"yeah and now you gotta kiss me to say sorry, and to make it better. two kisses minimum." oscar explains while you just smile at him, trying desperately to not laugh right in his face.

"is that right?" you question his words. oscar only hums and pulls your lips towards his with one hand on the back of your neck.

oscar had ended up complaining about his sore head all the way until you two had decided to go to sleep at near enough three am. you had to let him rest his head on your chest because the poor boy just could not lay his head on his pillow the way he usually did at night because of his sore spot. you were more than certain that it would not even be sore in the morning because it did not sound like oscar had even hit his head that hard and you knew how much oscar liked to play up his injuries just to get a little extra love and affection from him, as of you would not just give him it if he just outright asked for it.

that weekend he went around telling the entire paddock that you had pushed him into the headboard and other variations of that story. all of them ended in you causing the injury. you had to go around defending yourself to all of your boyfriends friends and co workers.

it was one of the first times anyone else other than you had even had a glimpse into that side of osacar ans as much as you wanted to gatekeep it and have it all to yourself, you kind of liked the fact that everyone else, including the media, got to see oscar as something other than the deadpan, racing loving, sarcastic boy that they knew all too well. unfortunately for you, lando constantly brings up the incident and no matter how many times you try to tell him the truth and how stupid oscar was actually being, lando was quick to ignore it and jump to the side of his teammate and defend him to no end.

[yuumenakaiser]

Beneath the stars

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Okarun (Ken Takakura) x reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Pure fluff

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. Proofread and edited

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆. I would love some support and reblogs! Thank you for everyone who took the time reading my fanfic

The summer night was cool, the gentle hum of cicadas filling the air as Okarun guided you up the hill. You followed him, slightly out of breath but unwilling to complain—after all, he’d been so excited about this outing, his usual nervous energy replaced with genuine enthusiasm.

“You’re gonna love this spot,” Okarun said, glancing over his shoulder with an honest smile. “Perfect view of the stars. It’s like... prime alien-research territory. You’ll see.”

You chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Alien research, huh? I’m starting to think this is just an excuse to drag me into the middle of nowhere.”

Okarun nearly tripped over a loose rock, his cheeks flushing pink even in the dim light. “W-What? No! This is serious! Do you have any idea how many UFO sightings happen in rural areas like this? It’s statistically proven—uh, I mean—” He stopped himself, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Okay, maybe that’s part of it... but I also know how much you love talking about stars and astrology stuff. You always light up when you mention constellations, so I thought you’d like it.”

Your steps faltered for a moment, warmth blooming in your chest. “You remembered that?”

He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the tips of his ears were red. “Yeah, well... I’m not completely clueless, you know.”

You smiled to yourself as he turned to keep walking, the soft sound of crickets filling the silence between you. When you reached the top of the hill, you stopped in your tracks, your breath catching in your throat.

The night sky stretched endlessly above you, a velvet canvas studded with countless stars. They sparkled like scattered diamonds, their light crisp and brilliant against the deep indigo. A faint band of the Milky Way arched across the heavens, its dust-like glow adding to the ethereal beauty.

The hilltop itself was peaceful, the tall grass swaying gently in the breeze, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers. Fireflies blinked sporadically, adding their soft glow to the scene. It felt like stepping into another world—quiet, serene, and untouched.

“Wow...” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the sky. “It’s... perfect.”

Okarun sat down on the grass, leaning back on his hands and looking up at the stars with a contented expression. “Told you it’d be worth it,” he said softly.

You plopped down beside him, close enough that your shoulders almost brushed. The faint hum of cicadas and the rustle of grass filled the air as you both took in the view.

“Okay, I’ll admit it,” you said, turning to him with a playful grin. “This is pretty amazing. You’ve outdone yourself, Okarun.”

He ducked his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a shy smile. “I just…thank you for coming.”

“I should thank you for inviting me here!” You looked back up in the sky, admiring the stars.

“So, Okarun,” you began playfully, “which one of these stars do you think belongs to the aliens you’re so obsessed with?”

His eyes lit up, and he launched into an animated explanation about distant galaxies and potential life forms, gesturing at the constellations above. You watched him with a fond smile, not really following his rapid-fire speech but enjoying the passion in his voice.

“And then there’s the Drake Equation,” he continued, “which basically calculates the number of civilizations in the Milky Way galaxy that could—uh...” He trailed off, his enthusiasm faltering as he noticed your amused expression.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“Not at all,” you said softly. “It’s cute when you get all excited like that.”

He froze, his face turning bright red. “C-Cute? I—uh—”

A sudden streak of light cut across the sky, leaving a shimmering trail in its wake. You gasped, eyes wide with excitement. “A shooting star! Did you see it?”

Okarun nodded, though his gaze lingered on you instead of the sky. “Yeah... I saw it,” he murmured, his voice almost distant.

“Quick! We need to make a wish!” you exclaimed, clasping your hands together and closing your eyes, silently mouthing your wish.

When you turned back to him, your smile was radiant. “What did you wish for?”

He hesitated, his fingers fumbling slightly as they toyed with the grass beneath him. “I... didn’t make a wish,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, almost shy.

“Why not?” you asked, tilting your head in curiosity.

Okarun’s gaze dropped for a moment, his fingers clenching the hem of his shirt as though searching for something to anchor him. He took a deep, shaky breath before looking up at you again. When his eyes finally met yours, they held a vulnerability that made your chest tighten—a raw honesty that felt intimate.

“Because... I already have everything I could wish for,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You’re here with me... and that’s enough.”

The world seemed to fall silent, the stars above shimmering like tiny witnesses to his confession. For a moment, all you could hear was the faint hum of cicadas and the pounding of your own heartbeat.

“Okarun...” you began, but the lump in your throat made it hard to continue. You saw him falter, his confidence cracking as his usual nervousness returned in full force.

“Sorry.. I uh that.. I'm just so sorry–..” he stammered, his words tumbling out in a rush. “That was stupid, wasn’t it? I didn’t mean to make things awkward or anything, I just—”

Before he could spiral further, you leaned in and pressed a quick, featherlight kiss to his cheek. His words died instantly, replaced by a stunned silence.

When you pulled back, his face was a deep crimson, his wide eyes darting between you and the ground. He opened his mouth to say something—anything—but no sound came out. He lifted a hand to his cheek, brushing the spot where your lips had touched, as though trying to progress what just really happened.

“It wasn’t stupid,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the thick silence. “nobody ever said those words to me before so… it was perfect.”

He blinked at you, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but the words never came. Instead, he stared at you like you’d just hung the stars in the sky yourself, his nervousness melting into something softer, something vulnerable and warm.

“I...” He trailed off, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “I’m glad you’re here with me.”

You smiled at him, squeezing his hand gently. The stars above continued to shimmer, their light wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of quiet magic.

Without a word, you softly laid your head against his shoulder, the warmth of his presence filling you with comfort. His breath hitched for a second, and his arm instinctively wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer. Neither of you spoke, content to sit there, watching the night sky and basking in the shared silence. In that moment, everything felt perfectly still, and you knew—this was enough.

You’d remember this moment forever.

[midorisplash]

“You should get off my lap.”

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader

Summary: You’re one of the triplets childhood best friends. One night you call Matt tipsy to pick you up from a party.

Warnings: Mention of alcohol, kissing, dry humping, C*m in underwear.

A/n: I wasn’t gonna post this but I wrote it so might as well! I hope you like it.

You sloppy walked into Matt’s room one hand on his wall sliding it off to plop onto his bed. Matt sighed walking in behind you and closing his door, his hands flying up to his face. “Oh my gosh y/n…You’re to much.” He mumbled walking to his bed and sitting down with his back on his headboread. You swayed back and forth then pouted “Sorry Matt.” You whined looking at him. Matt was ready for bed when you had called him to pick you up. He didn't wanna get up, but he'd never let you drive intoxicated.

He nodded with a exhale but smiled. “It's fine..Are you tired yet? Wanna go to sleep?” You nodded slowly and examined Matt as he laid on his bed. You noticed how his hair is fluffy from laying around. How his tattoo scattered arms looked more toned then usual. How his hands looked softer than expected, soft enough for you to wanna reach out and hold them. The way his sweatpants fit him perfectly. “Okay? You should lay down if your tired then” He spoke patting the bed next to him slightly. You didn’t reply just looking at him your eyebrows drawing together as your head tilted. “Y/n! What are you staring at?” He questioned. You blinked then starting laughing yourself. “Sorry Matt. You look hotter usually tonight.” Matt chuckled rolling his eyes. “Really? I think your saying that cause you where drinking.” You shock your head “No it's not that cause you always look hot, you just look hotter tonight. Well, Mabye it is that actually.” You giggled quickly and turned to face him. You thought for a moment before pull yourself more onto the bed then without warning straddled his lap .

He gasped his hand flying up as he looked around and then at you. “O-oh y/n.. I don’t know..” He mumbled a smile forming on your face as you noticed his cheeks slowly turning more pink. “You don’t know what? Is this not okay? I’ll get off.” “I don’t know..I mean I was just talking..it’s okay. So um are you ready to sleep?” He spoke then cleared his throat. You shrugged. “I’ll sleep if you’re ready to sleep.” “i-I am. Yeah..” He stayed quiet after speaking bringing his hands together and playing with his thumbs. You honestly don’t know why you even got on his lap, he just looks hot and your tipsy and wanted to mess with him. He always get flustered and nervous anytime you flirt with him or do things to him like this as a joke. “Y/n I think you should get off my lap.” He murmured looking up at you. “Huh? Why?” You pouted pushing a hair behind your ear instinctively pushing your hips back, your breath hitching when rubbed against what felt like a lump.

His hand quickly rushed to you hips holding you in place. “Don’t move too much y/n.” He spoke staring into your eyes. You blinked and tilted your head you couldn’t help pushing your hips back once to see what he was so scared about, rubbing against the lump once more. His legs bent squeezing your hips. “Y/n! Come on.” He pleaded. “Please don’t move.” it didn’t take you long to realize the lump was him getting hard, your eyes widened with a big smile. “Oh You’re getting hard aren’t you!” You spoke pointing a accusing finger into his chest. “No! Ew don’t say that! ” He exclaimed swallowing and looking down avoiding your eyes. You moved your hips back again earning a nervous mewl from him as he tried to hold your hips tighter in place. “Oh my gosh, Matt you’re hard!” You gushed. Matt panicked knowing it was too late to hide now finally looking up at you his eyes wide. “Y/n please don’t ever speak of this! I’m sorry! I couldn’t help it! Please don’t tell my brothers.” He whined.

You laughed at his pleas covering your mouth. Matt couldn’t help but smile faintly at your laughing. “Y/n seriously! It’s not funny. This is embarrassing!” “Matt, Matt, calm down it’s okay.” You spoke with a smile patting his chest. He sighed and looked at you. “Really? But I got hard from you just sitting on my lap..” He replied in a whine. “Yeah, I don’t care. I’m just glad I got to make a hot guy hard tonight.” He smiled at your stupid response rolling his eyes. Your laughter settled down and you both stayed in silence for a while looking at each other before his hand went to push hair out of your face. “I think I wanna kiss you.” He finally spoke looking at your lips. “I think you should do it.” Matt licked his lip immediately grabbing the back of your head and gently pulling you into a kiss.

The kiss slowly became more heated Matt thrusting up into your clothed cunt as you held yourself down against him. You pulled away to kiss down his neck sucking on the space under his ear. “Y/n..” He moaned his stomach clenching. Your sucked until a hickey formed kissing his jaw back up to his lips the make out  continuing . Matt’s legs didn’t stop twitching trying to keep steady pace humping up against you. He tried holding the kiss but pulled away letting his head fall onto his pillow moaning into the air with his eyes closed. You smiled at him enjoying himself and leaned down nibbling on his ear lobe then kissed back to his neck licking and sucking at it. His eyes squeezed shut tightly for a moment before trying to calm down, he felt that familiar feeling of the knot in his belly tightening. “Oh my gosh.” He whimpered quietly his nails now dig into your hips as he stopped his thrusting.

“What’s wrong Matt?” You whispered into his ear. You knew he had to be close so you started moving your hips rolling them against his twitching boner. “It’s N-nothing. Oh my gosh…” He moaned quietly squeezing his eyes tightly shut again. “Then why did you stop moving?” “Cause y/n… I’ll cum, and I will if you keep moving.” He whispered opening his eyes to look at you. You smiled “In your pants Matt? What if I wanted it in my mouth? You’re so embarrassing.” You joked and giggled. He nodded quickly his eyes brows knitting together. “I know.. Y/n..” He held onto you tightly. “Look into my eyes Matt, I wanna see your face when you cum.” You whispered leaning down and licking his lips rubbing back and forth against him until you felt his twitching get rapid. “Oh fuck…oh fuck…I’m cumming.” He tried to murmur looking into your eyes as you sat up to get a better view. The knot in his stomach snapped erupting a big groan of relief from him releasing into his boxers. His eyes rolled back instinctively as he came so he closed him them. You watched his legs squirm around the bed, his hands griping onto you tightly switching from your hips your waist. “Wow.” You awed putting a hand to his neck rubbing the side gently to help soothe him. He started panted quietly and opened his eyes slowly looking at you his pupils big and black taking up his whole eye. “That’s so e-embarrassing..” He whimpered still coming down until he just relaxed his hands falling from you waist to bed. You pushed yourself down onto his legs and saw the wet spot he left on his sweatpants. You smiled looking back at his face . He sat up on his elbows and looked at you as you both couldn’t help start laughing at the situation.

“I won’t tell anyone this happened if you don’t.” You spoke. “Deal.” He smiled and sighed letting his body plop back onto the bed.

[sansaorgana]

Please can you write a Buck x reader where he's really protective of her while she's pregnant? I think he'd be SO attentive and constantly making sure she's okay

hello! 🤰🏻🤰🏾 thank you for your request 💕 I think he'd be the best daddy and very involved in the pregnancy unlike most men back then 😊

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

You reached above your head to grab a box on the top shelf of the wardrobe. It was no easy task, especially now when you were six months pregnant and you felt much heavier and slower. However, you didn’t want to ask Buck for help because he was busy reading a book downstairs. You didn’t want to bother him with something so silly.

You managed to grab the edge of the box as your tongue stuck out a little out of effort. You pulled the box closer and lost the grasp of it. You could only watch it hit the ground as you quickly took a step aside to avoid being hit with it. A loud thumping sound echoed all over the bedroom as you sighed and watched all the photographs from the box scattered all over the floor.

The door opened rapidly, which startled you.

“Gee, Buck, I had no idea you could be that fast,” you chuckled, trying to crouch down to collect the photographs.

Your husband was a few shades paler as his eyes were widened. He approached you and grabbed you by your shoulders, making you straighten your back. You furrowed your brow at him.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Something fell down. I was scared it was you,” he admitted as his eyes scanned you up and down as if he didn’t believe your assuring words.

“I’m fine, Buck. It was the box. I tried to reach for it,” you told him.

“You should have called for me,” his tone was serious, nearly scolding. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I didn’t want to bother you. But now, when you’re here… You can help me to pick them up,” you proposed and Buck nodded without a word. Always eager to help and making sure you don’t overwork yourself even if it was a task as easy as this one.

He handed you the empty box and sat you down on the edge of your bed before crouching down and picking up the photographs. He was handing you them one after another and you could watch with a gentle smile all the beautiful memories that were there.

“What did you even need that box for?” He asked.

“I felt a little sentimental,” you told him as your lips curled into a smile at the sight of your wedding picture.

“Next time you feel a little sentimental, you call for me to help you,” Buck muttered to himself. He wasn’t really angry but you could hear his nervousness, still scared for you even though nothing had happened.

“You know, I got used to doing everything on my own,” you carelessly commented as you placed the picture inside the box and reached your hand out for another one. But there was none, so you lowered your eyes to meet your husband’s gaze. He was staring at you with his beautiful blue eyes but they were suddenly filled with pain and guilt.

“I’m sorry I left you for such a long time. I never meant to,” he whispered.

“Oh, Gale, baby, I didn’t mean it this way…” You bit on your lower lip and held his hand to pull him closer. He sat up on the bed next to you, clumsily – which was unusual for him. He put his arm around you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. “I don’t blame you for that, love. I’m glad you came back to me, doesn’t matter how long it took,” you assured him as you caressed the back of his head. “What I’m saying is, I learnt how to be independent. And sometimes…” You hesitated, not sure if you should finish the sentence. “And sometimes I forget you’re back home,” you finally added and took a deep breath in. “I’m upstairs, doing something and a noise from the living room startles me… Only then I remember that my husband is back with me,” you turned your head to place a kiss upon his forehead.

Buck looked up and your heart skipped a beat at the sight of the tears welled in his eyes. You cupped his face to caress his scars gently and you gazed back at him, hoping he could see all the love in your own eyes, because words seemed to only make it worse.

He was home for nearly a year now but it took time to accept his presence once again. Just like it had been difficult to accept his absence after his departure.

“Here, can you feel it?” You quickly grabbed his hand and put it on your swollen bump as the baby inside you moved. You smiled at your husband through your tears and saw his face lighten up again. “I can’t wait for the nurse to hand you Baby Cleven. You’re going to be an amazing daddy,” you told him.

“Only time can tell,” Buck sighed.

“No, I just know it, baby,” you assured him. “Just like you’re an amazing husband,” you added. “Now, hand me the rest of the pictures and let’s just put that box away, hm?” You encouraged him and he nodded before leaning in to peck your lips and then moving back to the carpet to give you the rest of the scattered photographs.

Once you were done with it, you went downstairs with Buck and walked into the kitchen since it was time to prepare the supper.

“I’ll do it,” Gale insisted.

“I’m pregnant, not sick,” you chuckled. “I can handle making my husband a sandwich. I like taking care of you,” you shook your head and approached the counter to take the bread out but Buck followed you.

“Let me help at least,” he put his hands on his hips, completely lost at what to do.

“It is not complicated, Major Cleven. You just slice bread and put whatever you want on top,” you laughed. “Well, you can make tea if you really want to do something,” you nodded at him and he smiled.

As eager to help as a child wanting to assist their mother. You found it adorable in a way, or perhaps those were your hormones speaking.

“You know,” Buck started suddenly, “I’m reading that book about babies and I am really worried about some things.”

“You what?” You stopped slicing the bread for a moment as you froze and looked at him in disbelief. A slight blush on his cheeks was making your heart swell.

“I’m reading a book about babies. The one for fathers that was recommended by the doctor,” he explained.

“It was only a recommendation, baby. You’re probably the only man who actually bought it,” you laughed lovingly at him. All your friends who had been lucky to get pregnant before you, had been telling you many stories about their husbands not wanting to participate in anything baby-related. And here he was, your dear husband, Major Gale Cleven… Who had actually bought a book about babies recommended by a doctor. “You’re one in a million, baby. Just reminding me every day why I love you,” you quickly caressed his arm just in case you had embarrassed him accidentally with your reaction. “What were you worrying about?”

“There are just so many things that can go wrong. And it’s scaring me,” Buck admitted quietly, avoiding your gaze. “Things beyond my control. I can try my best and still not be able to prevent them from happening.”

“That’s what life is like, my dear. I thought you’d know it by now,” you hugged him and caressed his back. “But we’re together in this. We can do it. And the things that are beyond our control… Well, they’re beyond our control. We shouldn’t worry about them now. Why focus on the bad things?” You tried to cheer him up.

“What if I lose you?” He asked, his voice breaking.

“You won’t, I promise,” you took a step back to look into his eyes.

“You can’t promise me that,” Buck bit on his lower lip as his jaw clenched; all in effort to stop himself from crying again.

“You couldn’t promise me either. When you were going to Europe, you promised you would be back. But how could you know that? I remembered what one of my friends had told me. Them pilots die like flies, she said. But I refused to listen to her because you…” You put your hand on his chest. “You gave me a promise. And I know my man doesn’t break his word,” you looked up with a gentle smile.

“And…” Buck cleared his throat. “And the little one?” He asked, nearly naively. You chuckled softly and placed his hand on your bump again. The baby moved as if they knew they had been addressed.

“The little one promises to be alright, too, daddy,” you assured your husband. “Now, let’s make these sandwiches, mummy’s hungry,” you bopped him on the nose.

Buck was watching you sitting on the edge of the bed and putting a lotion on your legs, belly and arms. Pregnant or not, he loved to admire you as you were performing your little rituals. When you were done, you laid back on the pillows and sighed.

“Can you imagine that in three months we’ll have Baby Cleven with us?” You asked with a soft smile.

“No,” he admitted in a whisper. “Truth to be told, I can barely believe you’re my wife.”

“Don’t be daft,” you caressed his hair. “Come here, tell us a goodnight story?” You proposed and Buck nodded as he lowered himself to place a kiss on your bump and lay his head next to it. He put his arms around your waist and closed his eyes, savouring the sweet and intimate moment.

“Which story, love?” He asked, gently caressing your bump.

“The one about a princess waiting for her knight to come back from the war?” You asked. It was a story Buck had made up some time ago for your little baby, which was supposed to reflect the story of your child’s parents. But he was still working on the details, changing the plot here and there each time he was telling this story. You liked it not only because it was about the two of you but also because it was giving you a feeling of creating something together for the baby already. Even though Baby Cleven still needed three more months to grow under your heart, you already felt like a real family. There was not a day passing by when you were not grateful for your husband being so involved in the whole process.

“I thought you’d be sick of that story by now,” Buck chuckled.

“No, I will never be sick of it,” you assured him as your fingers brushed through his golden hair. “And I hope Baby Cleven will want to listen to it every day, too.”

“I highly doubt that,” Buck muttered with his face pressed to your bump, kissing it one more time.

“We’ll make up another story then. And then another. And another. I’m sure we’ll come up with dozens of amazing ones. We can make it a family tradition. What do you think?” You asked and he looked up at you. You couldn’t help but smile at how beautiful he was at that moment, with his eyes filled with love and admiration, letting himself be vulnerable and soft in your arms.

“I think it’s a beautiful idea,” he nodded.

“Wait, let me grab a notebook,” you reached out to the bedside table to get a notepad and a pen. “Let’s start writing them down.”

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

[pedroscurls]

Hi! Idk if your requests are closed or not so feel free to ignore this but I’ve been going through a really tough time and I don’t have time to even breathe anymore so I was wondering if you could write something where Hugh just comforts the reader thanks!

safe with me (one-shot)

summary: hugh knows you've been having a difficult time and he hopes that he knows just what you need to help you feel better. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader content warnings: n/a, comfort / fluff, no use of y/n. word count: 701 a/n: to this anon, i'm so sorry that it took this long for me to fulfill your request. i hope things have gotten better since you requested this and if not, my inbox / messages are always open. thank you for requesting this (as i've been having a hard time myself with just life) - this was very cathartic and therapeutic for me. hope you enjoy. and as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman.

Hugh knows you’ve been having a tough time lately, can see a change in your behavior even though you tell him that you’re fine. You smile at him, tell him that everything is okay, but Hugh knows that everything isn’t. Whenever you come home, he can see the distress and the exhaustion written all over your features and when he pulls you into his arms when in bed, he can feel the tension in your shoulders. 

It’s been like this for the last few weeks and Hugh doesn’t know if there’s anything that he could do that would help, that would alleviate the stress you’re feeling. If he could, he’d take it all away – whatever it is, Hugh would do anything to make you feel better. 

So, when you text him that you’re working late tonight, it gives him enough time to put his plan in place. He grabs two glasses of wine and your favorite white wine and ascends the stairs to go to the master bathroom. Hugh runs a warm bath for you, lighting candles around the bathroom. He looks around and bites his lower lip, slowly opening the blinds to reveal the skyline of the city. 

Hugh then jogs back downstairs to grab the bag of rose petals that he purchased earlier that evening and walks back into the bedroom. He scatters the rose petals on the white tiled floor and pours a good handful into the water. He hears his phone chime, but doesn’t have enough time to look at it when he hears you step inside the apartment. 

“Hugh?” you call out, a quiet sigh leaving your lips as you ascend the stairs. “You in the room?”

“Yeah, baby!” he answers. Hugh looks up when he sees you enter the bedroom and when your eyes meet his, he’s sure that he has done something wrong with the look on your face. Quickly, he steps out of the bathroom and walks over to you, his large hands coming up to rest on your hips. “What’s the matter? Is this too much? I just–”

Tears trickle down your cheeks and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, burying your face against the crook of his neck. Slowly, Hugh’s strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against him. “I’m not okay,” you whisper, voice trembling. 

“I know, baby,” he says quietly, moving a hand along your back. “But that’s okay,” Hugh reassures. “I’m right here.”

You cry against him, feeling like the last few weeks are finally catching up to you. You had tried to push it aside, tried to make yourself feel better, but it only pushed it further down. Being in Hugh’s arms, you finally feel like you can breathe, can finally get a glimpse that things will be okay. 

“I ran you a bath,” he whispers, turning his head to place a soft kiss on your temple. “You up for it?” 

You pull back and look up at him, wiping the tears away from your face. “You didn’t have to…”

“I know,” Hugh leans in and pecks your lips lightly. “I wanted to.” He releases his hold on you and instead reaches for your hand, leading you into the bathroom. 

You look around and bite your lower lip, tears again pooling at the corner of your eyes. “Hugh…”

“Too much?” 

“It’s perfect. You’re perfect.” 

Hugh smiles and turns to face you, gently reaching up to remove the blazer you’re wearing. “Far from it, baby. Now, let me take care of you. Will you let me do that?”

You nod slowly and look down to see your blazer pool at your feet. “Okay,” you whisper. 

Hugh hooks a finger under your chin, slowly lifting your gaze to meet with his. “Whatever you’re going through, I’m right here with you, baby. Now, let’s get you in the bath. You’ve been tense and I think you need a massage.” He smiles and pecks your lips lightly, pulling away only to help you disrobe the rest of your clothing.

You let out a relieved breath. For the first time in weeks, you feel the weight slowly begin to lift off your shoulders and that’s all thanks to Hugh.

[daisiescomelate]

Love ink

Prompt: Sukuna asks you to get matching tattoos for Valentine's day.

div. cafekitsune

You noticed Sukuna was acting kind of odd. He had been avoiding your eyes all day and scratching the back of his neck enough for it to go red.

"Is everything okay?" You asked him after lunch. He was cleaning the dishes while you were scrabbling the grocery list for the week on the kitchen table. There was no damned pen in the house that wasn't dry, many of them scattered around you. It had taken you fifteen minutes to find a marker that worked properly.

You had been trying to ask him if there was anything else he thought you needed to add and all his answers had being a variation of 'don't know'.

"Yeah. Why do you ask?"

"You are acting... strange today."

"Strange how?", he said and turned around for a second before quickly looking forward again when your eyes met each other.

"That."

"What?"

"What you just did."

"I don't know what the hell you're talking about."

You narrowed your eyes at him. It was the first time in a while that he curse at you like that.

"You did something." It was a statement.

"What?"

"You are anxious."

"I'm not."

"You cheated."

"I did not." That was enough for him to throw the dishes into the sink and turn his full body to face you.

"If it's not that then why are you so scared to tell me." You said, not really believing Sukuna had done anything particularly bad but looking to fire him up enough so he would tell you. It was hard to make Sukuna talked when he didn't want to but you always wanted to hear it, even if it meant you would have to make him scream it to you at your face.

Sukuna clenched his jaw while staring at you from his place next to the sink, then lightly blushed. You blinked.

"'s Valentine's day next week."

You blinked again.

"Yes, indeed."

"You said to do something I wanted."

Oh!

You stood up and crossed the few steps that separated you from him. You wrapped your arms around him and smiled.

"Yes, baby! You always ask me what I want to do for Valentine's day. This year should be all yours. Did you think of something already?" You kissed his cheek and his blush increased. Moving his gaze away from you again to look at a random spot on the wall he murmured,

"Tattoo."

"What?" You looked at him confused, "You want a new tattoo?". You didn't get it. Frowning your eyebrows you asked, "You want me to go with you to get a new tattoo?"

The blushed crept all the way up to his ears and he still didn't look at you.

You sighed. "I mean... I wasn't expecting that but if that's what you want to do, of course! Do you want another big tattoo, is that it? Like a full session of a few hours, is that why you want me there?"

Sukuna cleared his throat and finally, finally looked at you in the eyes. With a little bit of hesitation but pushing his words with intent out of himself he said,

"I want matching tattoos."

"Matching tattoos?" You echoed as if he had suddenly spat some foreign words to you.

"Like a couples tattoo." He clarified.

"Okay, wait-"

"You don't want to." It wasn't a question.

With a strange look in his eyes, Sukuna removed your arms off his neck and turned back around to returned to the task he had abandoned before.

You were frozen in place, eyes wide. The stiffness in his shoulders brought you quickly back, and this time you hugged him from behind, trying to be careful with your words.

"Sorry, love. You just caught me off guard. Don't be sad, please. You know what, lets do it." You hugged him tighter. "I don't have to think about it, I really want to be with you forever and ever, love." You planted kissed on his back until you felt him relax a little bit.

"What do you want it to be?" You continued, "A heart will be cute... or two birds. Honestly I think we should do something a little bit more symbolic, something that would represent us better like-"

"Our names."

Another right hook to your stomach.

"Our names?!" You squiked.

Sukuna was facing you again, this time using the puppy eyes that he had learned by accident made you so weak to his demands.

He pulled you closer to his chest and surrounded you with his arms. Your faces were an inch apart. He moved his right hand so it would slip under your shirt and with the tip of his fingers he traced a line on your lower back. "Mine here", he said in a low, raspy voice. The heat of his touch and the dept of his tone made you knees weak.

He moved so his breath would be next to your ear as he whispered his next line.

"And you can pick where yours goes on me."

Knockout.

You felt like a deer on the headlights in between his touch and his proposition.

He could see how much you struggled with the idea in your eyes.

"Why not?", he said a kiss away from your lips in a pout. Sukuna's manipulative tendencies had never disappeared since you met, they just had evolved into something more dangerous.

"Think about it" he said holding you closer looking down at your mouth and whispering as if he were sharing a secret with your lips.

"Do you want your name over my heart?" He gave a step forward, forcing you to step back.

"On the back of my neck?"

Step.

"On my tight?"

Step.

"Where everyone can see or where only you can see?"

Step. Step.

"Where do you picture it?"

Step.

Table.

He had you trapped.

"I don't know, It-It sounds like a very important decision. Let me think it over for a bit." You stuttered, knowing how dangerous it could be to hold your weight against the table.

Sukuna raised his eyes from your lips and look directly at you. You knew that look. That determination. He had an idea. Oh, no.

"Then why don't we run some tests?" He said. He moved his arms forward consequently pushing you to sit over the table. Closer and closer, his weight falling over you.

You closed your eyes, expectantly.

A moment later, he retreated.

You opened your eyes again but slowly. Sukuna stood straight in front of you with a black marker in his hand right in front of your face.

"See where you like it better." He said with a devilish smile, all teeth.

You stared at the marker as if it could bite.

Damn devil.

With a sigh, you took it from him and took off the cap.

Long story shot, a week later your diabolical boyfriend got want he wanted.

N/A: no proofread, sorry. Where would you put his tattoo? 🤭 Definitely somewhere visible for me 😏 Thank you for reading!

Masterlist of fics

[spiderfunkz]

heyy could you do a peter parker blurb based on him asking you out on the last day of school? i love ur writing btw

✧ LOVE ON A LAST DAY.

summary : someone has a pretty crush on you!

word count : 0,7k

contains : fluff, fem!reader, super cutesy stuff.

a/n : next month i'll be graduating so this prompt is actually perfect omg omg, thank u for requesting anon i hope u like this !!! 🤭 i used the word 'smile' so much in this i apologize

"hey, peter!"

you waved cheerfully,

it was the last day of school. the final bell just rang and everyone is running out of the building yelling, cheering, crying, and smiling. papers were scattered, pens fell out of backpacks, shirts were signed, and flowers were exchanged.

you were going to hangout with your friends but that's when you spot peter at the end of the hall. hair messy, backpack full, his hands were in his pocket, he looked very nervous.

but you weren't going to leave him alone like that, it's been a while since you two have catched up.

you have been friends since middle-school, but as friends do, they drift apart, though you've never lost that spark with peter. you loved his company & he loved yours.

"hi!" peter waved.

you catch up to him, "hey, i didn't see you anywhere today! you haven't gotten a chance to sign my jacket yet. here," you pass a marker.

"i saved you a spot to sign." he nods, signing it.

you smile, "aw, this looks perfect."

he smiles too, he seems to be very smiley every time he's around you.

sometimes he forgets that you can see how much he smiles when he's near you, or how you can see that he's clearly staring at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you rub your cheek,

"oh, no. no you don't, sorry."

"you sure?"

he nods.

"you're weirdly quiet. you okay? i'm still going to the same college as you if that's what you're worrying about," you giggle.

peter has always loved how easy you are to talk to. in a way that there's never awkward pauses between conversations, and how your smile makes everything feel so calm and nice.

"i know. i just, uh-" he fiddles with something in his pocket, "there's something i wanna say, if that's okay."

"yeah, why wouldn't it not be okay?"

he shakes his head, smiling.

he passes you a picture from his pocket along with a small flower he picked.

you take it, your hand softly brushing his hand for a second.

it was a picture he took 2 months ago. you remember the day very well.

it was hot, awfully hot for new york. there were no clouds, the skies were clear and everybody was talking about it. how eager they are to take a walk and how excited they are to enjoy time outside.

though you and peter wanted nothing more but to stay inside, but this doesn't happen everyday. so why not try your best to enjoy it?

you were at the park and just finished your 2nd cup of lemonade (it was peter's), peter brought his camera for memories. your hair kept sticking to your face and it didn't help that you were smiling a ton so it got in your lipgloss as well.

suddenly wind came and flew past you. the air felt cool for a second and your hair went all over your face, you still smiled though.

peter saw and took a picture immediately, the sun perfectly leaving a glow on your hair, also giving your lips a nice glow.

"did you just take a picture?" he quickly shook his head, "yes you did! let me see!" — "no! i know you're just gonna delete it."

you finally saw the picture. at the bottom you can see a handwritten note on it. a beautiful day with the most beautiful girl!

"peter, this is so cute. you- you took this?" you asked, he nods shyly.

you couldn't hide the fact that your face grew red. "i was wondering... if maybe the most beautiful girl in the world would like to maybe.. like to.. go out with me sometimes..?"

peter said, whispering the last few words, looking down at his shoes, the doodled converses you once drew on.

you smile, "i'd love to."

he looks up, shocked. "really?"

"yeah! i mean all of this coming from the most prettiest, talented, caring boy in the world? how could i say no?" you smile, teasingly.

peter smiles.

he thinks for a second before taking the small flower from your hands and tucking it behind your ear, "pretty." he says, stated actually.

"so are you going to walk me home now, most beautiful boy in the world?" you ask. he nods almost immediately, "absolutely, most perfect girl in the world."

you walk outside the building, your hand holding his.

"just so you know i'm gonna draw a big red heart around your signature on my jacket."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

for a conrad x reader request- could you do one where conrad is just really overwhelmed and stressed out and just needs comfort and physical touch?

When I saw this hug in the trailer, my heart could not handle it. He looks so soft and sad and- It's probably one of my favorite moments

warnings: mention of cancer, sad!conrad

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

You knew something was off with Conrad when you received five calls in the past three days. 

This was a stark contrast to his usual pattern of calling you every night since he started college. Despite telling him it wasn’t necessary to call every night and prioritize his studies, Conrad was insistent that it wouldn't affect his grades.

During your calls, you noticed a change in his demeanor. He seemed distant and unengaged, merely listening to you without his usual laughter at your humor, which raised further suspicions that something was off. You suspected it was related to Susannah. She started this new treatment a few weeks ago and Conrad didn’t like being away from her. It worried him to be so far away from her.

You wanted to surprise him. Sparks some happiness into his sad eyes and bottles up hardships.

You stood on the other side of his dorm door, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. You wanted everything to go perfectly, knowing that the impact of your surprise could mean so much to Conrad in his current state.

What if his roommate doesn’t want you there and gets into an argument with Conrad? What if Conrad doesn’t want you there? 

Your stomach twisted into a knot. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, you took a deep breath and gently knocked on the door, your heart pounding with anticipation as you waited. Moments later, the door opened, revealing Conrad's tired but surprised expression. 

‘’What are you doing here? I was just about to call.’’ 

You gave him a soft smile. ‘’This is much better than a phone call, isn’t it?’’ 

He nodded, the corner of his mouth curling slightly despite his overall tired appearance. The dark circles under his eyes could be from school alone, but this wasn’t just from getting less hours of sleep. His gaze was distracted, absent, by times. 

Like now.

‘’Are you gonna invite me in or do I have to camp outside your dorm?’’ you asked, snapping Conrad out of his thoughts.

‘’Oh, eh…yeah, sorry.’’ He stepped aside, inviting you in. ‘’I had a class at 8am, my brain is a bit tired.’’ 

It was a lie. But you didn’t say anything. 

‘’My roommate is at some frat party,’’ Conrad explained, closing the door and locking it. ‘’Shouldn’t be here until late. Very late. Unless he crashes at Deborah’s dorm.’’ 

You nodded, setting your bag on the floor on Conrad’s side of the room. It was small for two people, but what were you expecting? It’s a college dorm.

A frown formed when you saw how untidy Conrad’s space was. There was a mess of papers and textbooks scattered around on his desk, indicating the stress he was under with his studies, and the dirty laundry basket was full and spilled onto the floor a little. This was so unlike him. 

On his nightstand, you noticed a piece of photobooth strip and smiled. You took these at the mall last spring, right before Conrad overheard his parents and learned about Susannah’s cancer. It was the last time you saw him truly happy. The last time his mother’s health wasn’t constantly in the back of his mind. 

‘’You keep a picture of us by your bed,’’ you pointed out, picking up the photobooth strip. 

Conrad turned his head toward you. ‘’Yeah,’’ he admitted, rubbing his palms over his blue jeans. 

You set the photobooth strip back to its place and slowly stepped toward Conrad. Through the phone, he could hide behind his many walls, but in person, it was easy for you to see that he wasn't okay. You could see right through him.

‘’Connie? You know you can talk to me about anything, right?’’ 

Conrad nodded as he lowered his head. 

He tried to put on a brave front, but deep down, he wanted nothing more than to fall apart in your arms and stay there forever. Life had become such a heavy weight lately, he wasn't sure he could deal with it.

‘’Come here.’’ You drew him close and, like pieces falling into places, his arms wrapped around you and he rested his head on your shoulder with a vulnerability only you was allowed to see him in. You raised a hand to his shoulder, soothingly rubbing his back.  ‘’Nothing is alright,’’ he admitted, his arms tightening around you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

—

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[leossmoonn]

Hey do you think you could write about like the reader having an attitude when she comes home from work and mikey fucks the attitude out of her?

18+ under the cut - includes: cut to sex scene, unprotected sex. abby is like at a friends house or smth so dw just bc she’s not mentioned doesn’t mean she’s in the house

this is actually the worst thing i ever wrote im sorry but this is all i could give

you slam the door shut once you get inside. you kick off your shoes rather roughly, practically throwing your keys on the coffee table. mike looks to you, a little taken aback by your demeanor. usually he’s the one coming home throwing things and stomping around. it’s not like you’re a happy-go-lucky person, but you’re not one to be this upset about something unless it’s really bad.

and honestly, you didn’t know what you were upset about. it just seemed like today was the worst day in your entire life. you’d woken up late, didn’t get to eat breakfast, had the worst lunch ever, your meetings at work were a waste of time, and traffic was bad. the list could truly go on. so you weren’t really in the mood to plant a smile on your face and pretend like you weren’t irritated.

“hey, how was work?” mike asks. “fine,” you huff, walking to your shared bedroom. you change out of your work clothes, feeling as though they were suffocating and uncomfortable all day.

mike stands up from the couch, following you. “are you sure it was fine?”

“yes, mike!” you shout. “can you just drop it?”

mike reaches out to touch your arm. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you twist your arm out of his grip, feeling like every little thing could just set you off. “i said i’m fine.” you try to keep your cool, but you can feel anger bubbling up inside of you.

“you can talk to me, you know. i’m here for you.”

“i don’t want to talk!” you yell. “just leave me alone for fucks sake!”

mike blinks at you like you just killed somebody. “o-kay,” he says after a long pause. “sorry for checking up on you,” he mumbles.

you groan, “can you not play the self-pity, nice-guy card?”

“i’m not! this is genuinely how i feel! imagine if the roles were reversed. you’d be feeling pretty shitty, too, right?”

“no because i’d know to leave you alone,” you say matter-of-factly.

“well, i’m not going to leave you alone.”

“why?” you ask, ready to throw something.

“because i believe that you need to tell me what’s wrong so you can not have an attitude.”

“well, if you’re just going to pester me, then i’ll just leave.” you slip on a pair of slippers that are by your bed, grabbing a jacket and heading out of the bedroom.

“where are you going?” he asks. “anywhere but here!” you shout.

“you can’t just run away! you’re starting to act like me.”

“yeah, well, maybe i need to not be around you for a while, then!”

mike rolls his eyes at you, knowing you’re just saying all this because you’re mad at him for some reason. he knows he should’ve left you alone, but now the conversation has gone too deep for him to just give up.

as you put a hand on the door, mike grabs your wrist and yanks you back.

“let go, mike. i’m a grown woman and can do what i want.”

“which is precisely why you’re staying here.” he looks into your eyes, his brows furrowed with determination. his grip on you is tight, but not harmful. there are small beads of sweats lining his forehead and his cheeks are slightly flushed from becoming worked up. his eyes are wide and pupils blown out, meaning that he’s been thinking of you in some way in between your fight.

“make me,” you say lowly, in almost a whisper.

you’re on top of the kitchen counter now, sweatpants and panties scattered on the ground. mike’s shirt is somewhere in the living room along with his belt. his jeans are pooled around his legs as he leans against the counter. your nails are digging into his shoulders, head thrown back and rubbing against the cabinets. mike’s face is buried into your neck, pants and whimpers becoming muffled into your skin. his cock is throbbing inside of you as your walls clamp down around him.

“mike, oh! right there, yes!” you moan, your eyes rolling behind your eyelids. he’s balls deep inside of you as he hits that spot expertly.

“fuck, baby. you feel so good,” he mumbles into your shoulder. he can feel your heart thud in your chest as he presses up against you. the sweat on your bodies mix as he thrusts faster. you wrap your legs around his waist, seemingly pulling him in tighter, making him push deeper inside of you. your hands grip his hair as you feel yourself orgasm and you cry out his name.

you feel him come inside of you in hot spurts, coming to a complete stop as he finishes. you both groan as he slips out of you. he grabs a piece of paper towel and wipes up his cum that’s running down your leg.

you’re still huffing and puffing, savoring the feeling of the cold wood and granite on your back and legs. mike gives you a small smile and you lean down and kiss his cheek.

“not so stressed now, huh?” he remarks. you roll your eyes and punch his shoulder. “it’s just a coincidence.”

“mm, maybe i should try this next time then and see if it correlates,” he says.

“maybe you should.”

[zoropookie]

SWEET MELODY

☆ chapter four — gtfo watching madagascar (🎂)

You had high hopes for how this would go, at least.

Sitting in your car and mindlessly driving to the very house you spent a lot of your childhood in was daunting. The familiar road stretched ahead, winding through the streets on your journey like a thin ribbon of what you wanted to know well, but couldn't fully. You couldn't bring yourself to look on the sides of you just yet, not looking for any lack of preparation.

Your hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white as you took a sharp breath in. You parked the car, and sat there in the daylight of the hour. Your eyes darkened, moving your head down as you slumped back in your seat. Your shoulders down, and your general disposition horrible.

You didn't want to look up, because it was just how you remembered it. And if you were able to remember that, then by that jurisdiction, there was a 95% chance that this was part of your life that you just dug up again.

You pictured it as clearly as it stood: a quaint, two-story home with the front porch that you had your first kiss on, adorned with hanging baskets of vibrant violets that were picked from the hanging nature of the home. Looking to be inviting, yet intimidating. Tree-lined streets with overgrown lawns, and kids bicycles scattered haphazardly on adjacent driveways, the scent of cut grass filling your sinuses. You found yourself in a both comforting and disconcerting mood.

You sat in your car, staring blankly at the dashboard with the glee you had from cleaning your shop wiped off your face. "You can do this," You exhaled. "You can do this."

The trees, thick with summer foliage and vines draped on the walls, casting dappled shadows on the seemingly new asphalt. You drove through that road for the first time today instead of walking, hoping in your head that the rapid beating of your heart would cease soon. The air was full with the smell of blooming nature.

Gathering your resolve that presented itself in small and opposing glass shards to you, you opened your car door and stepped out. The crunch of gravel on your feet as you hurriedly took the gift of well prepared strawberry pies made small enough to be bite-sized. The sun blazed on you promptly, but nothing could take the chills on your skin.

You walked up the path, the looming front door with its always new paint that seemed to never chip under Ei’s rule was waiting for you. Your eyebrows furrowed in total dread, you bated your breath only for exactly who you figured to open the door once you rang the doorbell.

“(Y/N).” Ei stood there beautifully, but it was still surreal seeing her look the exact same as she did years ago. Her warm, welcoming smile and her eyes twinkling, except this time, it was of nostalgic wonder. “Did you find it okay? I did a lot more work from when you were here last.”

“Yeah, no! It looks…” Your eyes wandered, trying to find the right words to say before giving up. “It looks amazing, Miss Ei. No wonder why I used to really like playing royalty here.”

Ei stepped back promptly. “Come in. You can set your treats on the table.”

“Thank you,” You greeted her politely, walking into the home with the familiar and faint scent of lavender and old wood corrupting your nose. You knew the years have gone by, justice how it hardly looks the same from when you were a kid.

“You’ll find a lot of old items in different places now, my apologies. A lot of my appliances needed updating, so the kitchen is quite different now.” She explained from the main hall, setting up comfortable pillows for you to sit.

“This is really lovely…everything’s exactly in your style.” You marveled to yourself, before snapping out of it and setting the treats on the counter. “I’m sorry, Miss Ei. I didn’t mean to wander.” You laughed nervously.

“My home is your home, to this day.” She still presented you the same adoring smile she did as you sat down. “Yae won’t be here for another hour. In the meantime, I suppose we should discuss what you’re comfortable doing at my wedding.”

You sighed in relief. “Oh, Miss Ei. I actually did come here as well to see if you could pull some strings for me too regarding that, but it looks like you were ten steps ahead of me!” You laughed, always seemingly nervous. “I just didn’t want to betray your wishes…you mean a lot to me.”

“As do you, which leads me to believe that…” Ei sighed to herself promptly. “I did get a little carried away in your honor. Being so excited seeing you and reliving what I once knew felt euphoric. But as it turns out…I’m doubtful things are able to be that way at all.”

“I don’t think that’s true, to be at your side at all is a really amazing request considering the circumstances!” You smiled. “Please don’t worry about the outcome, you should feel the most relaxed at your own wedding, okay?”

You tried to ignore the heavy weight crushing you.

The former shook her head. “It is not that I am worried about,” She paused, her tone a bit more sullen than what was normal. “By chance on that day he went to your home, did he say anything he shouldn’t have?”

You blinked, and as soon as you realized what she asked, you stopped moving. Instead of feeling like your limbs were attempting to make up for the lack of brain space you had, you felt like you were struggling to stay afloat. “Uh,” You stammered, feeling your body tremble. “I’m sorry,” You replied carefully before your voice dropped to a low murmur, “Don’t really remember a lot…I don’t think he did, though.”

“Is it truly that?” Ei’s expression softened, but there was something else that you couldn’t quite place before— she looked concerned, perhaps, maybe regret. “It’s very important that you’re honest to me.”

You were unease, but not because of her. There was something you weren’t letting yourself remember, and instead of mulling on it, you forced a smile for Ei. “Everything is okay with me, I promise, Miss Ei. The last thing I want is to burden you both…I plan to make your wedding perfect.”

The mothers nodded slowly, but her eyes lingered on you, as if looking for something else that your face betrayed of you. “I understand,” she replied softly, before sighing with a melancholy undertone. “You are a very selfless person, there is nothing to pinpoint about you that would make you a bad person. It’s unfair how life treats the wise, isn’t it?”

Before you were about to respond, the sound of the front door opening drew the attention of the two of you. You turned, and immediately everything that you ever said was forgotten the minute that the outstanding and intimidating presence of Ei’s very son, Kunikuzushi, was standing there with his suitcase. His presence ever commanding and rough.

“Fuck are they doing here?” He asked, as if you were a speck of dust he had no trouble in not paying mind to.

“They are here to help me plan my wedding. One that you have no interest in helping me in, so I’d suggest you keep your snide comments to yourself.” Ei’s tone was direct, almost like a warning shot to him. She stared at him with much more intensity than she ever would you.

“You have no business inviting non-family to your little event, you’re just interested in pissing me off.” His words dug into you like it was a knife plunging into your core. “I mean, what can they even offer you that isn’t equivalent to a fart in the wind?”

“They are family. It is my wedding, Kunikuzushi, and I may do what I please. I may invite who I please, and if you don’t like who I invite, you are happy to do clean up. Less chances of you ever having to see who you don’t want there, is it?”

“Family to who, a dead mom and probably an even deader brother?” He couldn’t help but chortle, before the sheer velocity of a slipper Ei strikes against the center of his nasion, groaning in pain as he stood there for a long time recovering.

“Go,” Ei’s voice was louder. “I had my doubts that you’d actually be civil, but this is ridiculous. It’d be in your best interest not to come out until the both of us are gone.”

Your heart burned in your chest, a fire that wasn’t to be put out. With each silent and shallow breath you took, the harder it was to grasp. Especially when his piercing eyes took a gander at you, before sizing you up quietly. You refused to look him in the eye, narrowing them down.

He could only scoff and wince from how much pain shot through his face, a small and aggravating smile appeared on his lips. His attention turned back to Ei, “Didn’t know you were interested in inviting the circus to your wedding. I would have brought better farm animals, if that were the case.”

“I’m not interested in your suggestions, you have severely agitated me. Go unpack, and leave us to our conversation.” Ei spat. “You should not even be back right now, it is hours before sunset.”

Your eyes never rang that much, the universe around you blurring and fading as the intense and high-pitched sound began dominating every sense you had. It had you feel like you were submerged in a deep and murky water, a muffled and distant echo of their conversation playing out.

Heartbeat echoing in your ears, a counterpoint to the endlessness of your own ears failing you. You squeezed your eyes in pain, finding solace in at least the darkness, your head wandering with thoughts that you didn't think you'd ever have. Vision wavering, the edges of your sight blurred as the ringing became even more insistent. Your own body was failing you.

Safe to say, you couldn't do this.

previous ☆ masterlist ☆ next

THERE ARE not many things that can sway your interest ever since the "incident", but in spite of that, you pushed forward. you are now the owner of the biggest bakery chain in your city, consistently seeing couples and catering to them as such. you've been a big host at weddings, events for celebrities, and even a big support for your friends and family. you've even earned yourself a niche following as well by how sweet you are to everybody around you. but, even with your kindness, you don't have a particular spark that keeps you going anymore these days. that is until one of your employees starts suggesting you write love letters to customers who request your services. at first you thought it was a horrible idea that could easily turn into trouble, but that was until you were tasked with writing one to your own (very very famous) ex-boyfriend.

taglist ☆ — @seternic @chemiru @coquettemaiden @1kio0o @emiixuu

@agaygothicmushroom @yomishen @jingyuan-wife-real @toruscorpse @whoooismkeee

@sketcheeee @st4r4ngel @xionri @scaradooche @lightyagamifan

@pwushizz @alatusorrow @eutopiastar @magica-ren @slu7

@vaxmpi @theyluvkatt @kyon-cherri @suzydarling @mimi3lover

@auroratumbles @vxcmx @yourfavoritefreakyhan @kunimylovee

@czerwka @little-honey-the-third @featuredtofu @simonisferal @justpeachyteastea

@liuaneee @skyoverkill1 @mellowberrie @lalalaloveallmydays @mostlymoth

@mtndewbajablasted @vernith @lovekeychains @danhenglovebot @elizshade

@balladeersflower @kazumiku @bananasquash @neversore @yevurin

@franaby @vicslz @kamiboo @thegalaxyisunfolding @morgyyyyyyy

[wherenymphsroam]

don’t say it’s unholy, if I let you come hold me (pt 1)

⟡ -- leon finds you drowning your grief in the back of a bar just outside of town. but don't worry, he won't blow your cover.

w/c: 2.1k

warnings: themes of coping with grief and depression, implied underage drinking and unhealthy coping mechanisms, vendetta leon, leon is just a wee bit morally grey here just due to the point in his life this is staged during, no sex but explicit language, leon is readers dad's coworker/friend, angst - eventual sex

a/n: okay, I've been sitting on this baby for a hot minute just because of how self indulgent it is iaqhdsiuwsjih. I wanted to make this longer before I released it, but I think I'm going to just continue this in parts (and even then, don't hold me to that lol judgwiuhd !!). again, please heed warnings, and if you are uncomfortable with any themes presented, please just don't read!

playlist: unholy (hey violet), disconnect (she wants revenge), discipline (nine inch nails), paralyzer (finger eleven)

You shouldn’t be here.

By all legal and ethical means, morality aside, you should be at the library, studying for a final you know damn well you won’t be passing. Or better yet, at home. Maybe poured over a mug of tea, that blend your mom has made you since you were a kid. Some shitty romcom playing in the background, ignored as you doze off surrounded by papers, scattered around the dining table like any other honorable, dutiful college student. Not some… dingy, shithole bar outside the parameters of your hometown.

(One you know your dad doesn’t frequent with colleagues. One you know is just outside the radius of people that would see you here, know you enough to know you shouldn’t be here.)

Maybe you would be back home right now, studying until you felt like your brain was going to melt out of your ears, if not for what happened. The “would’ve” “could’ve” and “should’ve”s are stacked high in your brain, like a mountain of now unattainable possibilities laid bare, slain by the events of recent nights. Something so chilling, so bone shattering and brain dissolving you just can’t manage to wrap your head around it. 

‘Shock’, right? 

That was the operative term for the numbness that has recently buzzed dully in your limbs, the heaviness of your own weight whenever you roll out of bed every day. The term itself is thrown around so flippantly, so easily outside the walls of a hospital, a clinic. General medical common knowledge be damned, everyone knows what shock is.

'Shock' is being betrayed by your child who marries someone of the same gender, rendering you and your paper thin beliefs meaningless. Generations passed down worth of indoctrination gone moot by one, unholy union. It’s coming home and finding your husband in bed with another woman, that blonde bitch at his front desk. The one he told you not to worry about? Yeah, that one. 

It’s the unspeakable, the unimaginable striking. It’s blinding, horrid in how it leaves you.. Empty. You’re compelled to apologize for its effects on your nervous system.

Sorry guys, I promise I’m sad. I know I don’t look it, I’m taking it out on all this- shit lying around. I’ve been meaning to throw this out for ages you know. Guess I finally have a reason now, huh? No, I don’t know how much sleep I’ve gotten the past week, it’s probably fine. I’m fine, don’t worry about me. That’ll make me feel worse. Now, if you would, let me go finish my manic episode in peace, will you-?

Could you blame this too as to why you finally dug out that fake ID your friends coerced you into agreeing to?

This wasn’t like you, not one bit. I mean, really, sitting in the back of some gnarly bar, surrounded with the sorts of people Daddy always warned you about? The sorts of people that only came out after dark, that hung around till dawn when they would then go back to dwell in whatever crevice of the city they called home until dusk? Maybe this was moms genes catching up with you – the predisposed ones you always knew would come to bite you in the ass. Maybe you should go check your eyes, don’t people's pupils dilate when they’re manic? “Crazy eyes'' those people on Tiktok would call them, right? 

“Unwidin’, huh?”

His voice calls through the air between you like he might’ve well been standing yards away. It takes you a moment longer than maybe appropriate to track his distance, his place at your side at the bartop. Glancing over, you first get a look at his hand, gesturing to the drink in front of you, the cigarette dangling between your fingers. The one that was currently beginning to slip in your weakened grip, speaking of. 

They’re long, nimble. Broad hands, worn at the tips, smooth along the meat of his palms. Even under the hazy atmosphere surrounding you, you can make out the glint of the watch up his sleeve – probably expensive, if the quality of the leather of his jacket sleeve has anything to say about it. Look at you. Even buzzed like this, you were spotting the finer details. A daddy’s girl with daddy’s tolerance.

Despite yourself, you nod numbly, head heavy on the bracket of your neck. A sign directly arguing with the idea of your tolerance – or rather, lack thereof – but it can't be as noticeable as your brain is attempting to trick you into believing, right?

Leon settles into the stool next to you, and you don’t so much as cast him a proper glance. Maybe that’s why he finds himself sitting down. You looked out of place, like a damn kicked puppy with your head drowning in a few shots worth in the back of this bar. It was a wonder no one else had approached you up till this point, especially given the time of night. It was hard not to feel like your guardian angel. 

“We both know this ain’t the healthiest way to do it.” He says as he flags the bartender down.

Touche, mystery man. 

Well, alright. Technically you knew the guy. You vaguely recognized him as one of Dad’s colleagues through the haze of your buzz. It was too sweet to interrupt, you find yourself completely unfazed in the face of the inevitable consequences that would come from your fathers colleague finding you here.

If anything, you couldn’t complain.

His voice was nice. Beyond “nice” actually. If you were any more wasted, you’d take him for a certain type of actor. More specifically, the ones you listen to late at night. The ones that speak to you behind pseudonyms and expensive microphones, nestled into crevices of the internet any mentally stable person wouldn’t dream of wandering into.  

You know better than to entertain that thought for more than a few seconds, even despite the dregs of nicotine floating through your blood coaxing you towards such a mental image. 

Finally, you brave a glance over your shoulder at him. He’s pretty. Real pretty. How are you only just noticing how sharp his eyes are? They look darker under this bar's lighting, that typically professional, almost playful glint in his gaze nowhere to be found. It had been a few years since you’d last seen him… maybe it was age finally starting to jade him.

Not that you knew the specifics. He was easily older than you by a decade and some change. And clearly all too happy to bypass all niceties in this situation. Damn. Did you look that bad? He was pretty enough to be an angel, but that didn’t mean he had to act like one. Maybe he felt bad for you. Maybe he had a better head sitting on his shoulders than a better half of the people in here. 

A huff of soft breath leaves through your nose, tendrils of smoke swirling out of your system with the action. Shaking your head, you dip it, taking another long drag from your quickly burning cigarette, an excuse to try and string together some sort of response that won’t make an ass out of you. Or actually, anything that didn’t scream “you’re hot and I don’t know how to conduct myself around good natured, attractive men” would do just fine. Those damn eyes of his… it was a mistake, letting your gazes lock. His eyes alone were enough to make your stomach flip. 

“Well,” you mutter, not daring to look back at him. “This is better than my plan b for the night.” 

You don’t so much as flinch when the bartender comes over, taking an order he murmurs in a tone you want spoken against the shell of your ear from behind. Your periphery catches the actions of the bartender pouring his order into a short glass, bronze in color.

Whiskey. Of course.

Reaching for the middle of the table, you stub your cigarette in a conveniently placed ashtray. Sure, you were a little fucked up in a way you’ve never been before tonight, but you had manners. 

Meanwhile, Leon is doing what he does best. Observing. He tries his best not to make it obvious how he watches your hand wobbles when you lift it. He watched the subtle change in your expression when he called to you, how your head bobbed when he sat down. Anyone else would be paying attention to how quickly you recoiled with the action, as if self conscious of your dragged reaction time. However, he had spotted the tension in your slouched shoulders. A reaction rooted in self preservation, a fear of judgment. It was enough to tell him just how many shots you probably had in your system. 

He was no stranger to girls like you, ‘situations’ such as the one he was currently sitting next to.

It was a familiar, cliche dance – the unspoken, drowning struggles of a near stranger on display, insecurities risen to the surface like hemorrhaged blood under thinned skin. It was written all over you. You were scrappy, worn paper, and he was the storm settling overhead. Baring your weariness and struggle and strife to his blind eye, painting you transparent. He could see right through you. You were running from something. Likely attempting to drown, bury it somewhere deep if not for just a night or so. 

“‘Plan B’?” he questions, tone calm, even almost lighthearted. It betrays his sharp gaze, perceptive and on guard as ever. As if he were approaching an injured doe in the wild. Not that he’s done much hunting lately. He’s found that meat off the streets bleeds more freely than the skin of doe’s and rabbits does in present times. 

A wry smile tugs at your lips, almost as if you figured he’d press the topic. It was already too much to ask that he didn’t mention your connection to his coworker, how Leon knew you were definitely not supposed to be somewhere like this, and he had managed to uphold that silent prayer.

Maybe your otherwise handicapped condition was blurring whatever lines that stood between you right now, the lines that constructed what he should be doing, finding you here without a legitimate ID.  He should be outing you to the bartender, dragging you out of this place by the scruff of your neck with your dad dialed into his phone.

He shouldn’t be… entertaining you, right? Could you go so far as to call his complacent presence.. Encouragement?

Taking a seat beside you, joining you in your mission to drown your ache, your pain. Keeping you calm under his gaze, as if a sedative rolled off him in gentle waves. His throat bobs around his sip of whiskey, and you can’t help how your gaze lingers on the action. 

“Plan B consisted of finding someone to fuck me into next week,” you mutter dryly, as if the admission of your half hearted ‘plans’ for tonight left a sour taste in even your mouth. It wasn’t who you were. This wasn’t what you did. For fucks sake, you weren’t even supposed to have gotten this far, knee deep in an actively self destructive decision. But life sure did have one hell of a way of knocking you one hundred eighty degrees in the other direction, didn’t it?

No. That’s an excuse. A shitty one, at that. It's an excuse you've heard your dad mutter under his breath when he slouches into the couch with a beer in hand.

This is a poor choice, and you knew this was a poor choice. And yet, that didn’t stop you from walking your happy ass into this bar, nose up and full of talked up confidence you poured into yourself in the parking lot. No amount of tugging and pulling and pleading your guilty conscience did on your brain would stop you, not this time. You knew that getting into an Uber to haul you outside the lines of town would seal your fate to the whims of this bar. How classy. 

If Leon was a worse man, he’d take your words at face value. (Or maybe he’s just damned with all that thorough training he’s been rung through. It’s practically impossible not to read people nowadays. Even alcohol has ceased to debilitate him of this begrudgingly equipped set of skills that was all but pummeled into him.) 

His gaze wavers. Flickers, almost with a wash of amusement for a moment. You were trying oh so hard, taking that clipped, short tone with him, all but puffing your chest with this aura of  mental toughness you likely wanted to think you had. It was cute, really. But oh, the lacing of desperation in your tone... The sweet vulnerability in your breath… every hairline fracture your already cracking front is bleeding. 

He doesn’t have to be a bloodhound to want to dig for more. He just can’t help himself. 

thank you for reading! I have emergency commissions open, so if you enjoyed this piece, please consider taking a look at my menu or rb’ing :^)