#This has probably been done before but it came to me in a Vision

[unstopable8000]

This was how Act 5 went, right?

[maggotknight]

an alternate timeline

[ventismacchiato]

O8 stuck with you — im on top (of you) !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

The day you had been dreading was finally upon you.

“Stop looking so sad,” Yoimiya sighs as she looks over to where you were slumped on the floor of the recording studio you guys were in.

“My beautiful voice…mixed in with his,” you shuddered at the mere thought of his vocals sullying the album.

“Quit being so dramatic,” Lumine chastised, reaching over to get you off the floor. 

You look over to where Scara was similarly slumped on the floor, staring into the wall as his group members conversed around him. Looks like he wasn’t too into the idea of recording with you either.

“You guys ready?” Albedo asks, walking in carrying a stack of papers as he walks past you guys to the soundbooth. The young blonde had been one of the company’s producers since you’d debuted. He reminded you a mix between Kazuha and Xiao, quiet but managed to get his artistic vision across.

“You two,” Albedo gestures to you and Scara, “I was instructed to get you both done quickly before working on the group song.”

“Jean really slotted all this time and took into consideration how much Scaramouche and Yn bicker,” Fischl muses.

“What are we singing?” Scaramouche asks, flipping through the page of lyrics Albedo handed you both.

“A love song,” Albedo answers, hooking a pair of headphones onto his head, “Let’s just try it out and see what needs to be added, go on then.”

He gently pushes you into the recording booth as you both tug on your own pair of headphones.

You eye the lyrics as you tug the microphone closer to you, wincing at the implications behind the words.

The first few attempts were disastrous to say the least. Scaramouche kept criticizing your timing and you kept pointing out how he was overpowering the track. Albedo’s patience, which was unbelievably high if he worked with the likes of you, was wearing thin as you both argued over every line.

After a take that finally sounded decent Albedo gestures for you two to come out of the booth.

“Are we finally done?” Scara asks.

“That sounded pretty good to me,” Childe pipes up.

“If you guys had collaborated earlier we would be drowning in so much money right now,” Venti sighs dejectedly. 

“Almost,” Albedo answers, fingers flying over his keyboard, "I just need you both to moan,” Albedo deadpanned.

“What?” Scara slowly says, like he’s on the verge of strangling Albedo by the neck.

“Before you say anything just listen to this clip.”

You couldn’t even process anything before Albedo was hitting play and your gentle voice mixed with Scara’s came out of the speakers, followed by some harmonies by Aether and then Xiao that he’d added in later. It all sounded good as they all harmonized together, but even you could feel that something was missing.

“So, you need us to do what ?”

“Moan, so I can use it as backup vocals,” Albedo hummed, twirling a pen with his fingers, seeming nonchalant about what he was asking of them.

“Fuck no,” Scara says, jutting a finger at you, “Why do I have to moan on the same song as them.”

“I don’t want to either,” you huff as your members erupt into a fit of laughter behind you. The traitors.

“It’s just my suggestion,” Albedo says, putting his hands up, “Just try it out.”

“I don’t get paid enough for this, how am I supposed to moan with Yn next to me?”

“I get dried up just looking at you.”

“The world gets dry from looking at you.”  

“You should have no trouble faking a moan, since it’s probably what everyone you’ve ever slept with has done.”

Albedo snaps his fingers in front of you both.

“I don’t care how you do it, just harmonize a moan or two for me,” Albedo says, pushing you both back into the booth, “I would like to go home early for once.”

“We won’t be able to see you,” Albedo adds, “So feel free to do whatever helps you get out the best moans.”

“Gross,” Scara called out as Albedo shut the door behind him.

“I’m going to kill myself,” you mumble as you tug the microphone towards you once again.

Scara glares at you as you both stand in the booth, the microphone between you two a symbol of your forced cooperation. You can feel the tension radiating off him, and it's not helping your own nerves. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself.

"Let's just get this over with," you mutter, avoiding Scara's eyes.

"Fine," he snaps, crossing his arms. "But don't think for a second that I'm happy about this."

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, well, neither am I."

There's a long, uncomfortable silence as you both stare at the microphone. Outside the booth, Albedo is watching, his expression expectant. You glance at Scara, trying to gauge his mood. He's scowling, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes—something like hesitation.

"Look," you say, trying to sound reasonable in an attempt to get this over with. "Let's just do one take and see how it goes. If it sounds terrible, we can convince Albedo to scrap the idea."

Scara raises an eyebrow, but after a moment, he nods. "Fine. One take."

You both lean towards the microphone, your faces inches apart. You can feel Scara's breath on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You close your eyes, trying to block out the awkwardness, and focus on the task at hand.

Taking a deep breath, you let out a soft, hesitant moan. It feels strange and embarrassing, but you push through, hoping it will be over soon. Beside you, Scara does the same, his moan blending with yours. 

Scaramouche’s moans would usually sound like a sexually-transmitted disease: gross and something that you’d never touch with a fifteen-foot pole, but for a moment, it created an unexpected harmony.

Albedo's voice crackles through the intercom. "That was... actually not bad. Let's try it one more time, but with a bit more feeling. Scara, go a bit lower.”

You both go through the motions again, and you try to ignore how Scara’s moans sound so resonant through your headphones and the heat on your cheeks from making such an intimate sound beside him. 

Albedo’s voice comes through the intercom again. “Perfect. That’s exactly what we needed.”

You sigh with relief, tugging off the headphones as fast as you could and slipping out the booth.

As you and Scara step out of the booth, you're immediately met with the smirking faces of the other members. They're lounging on the studio couch, looking far too amused for your liking.

Childe is the first to speak, a stupid grin plastered across his face. "Well, well, look at you two. Didn't know you two were that freaky."

Lumine snickers, giving you both a mock round of applause. "That was hot. It felt like I was interrupting.”

“I hope you all die,” Scara says from beside you before turning to Albedo, “And you’re a freak for suggesting that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Albedo hums, already tuning them out as he has his headphones back on.

"Alright, alright," you say, trying to change the subject. "Can we please focus on something else now?"

Venti stands up, stretching. "Fine, fine. But you know we’re never going to let you live this down, right?"

“I’m personally going to buy several copies of this album,” Yoimiya giggles.

“I hope Albedo makes you guys do something embarrassing,” you huff.

"No wonder you're still a virgin if you sound like that when moaning,” Scaramouche says, smirking as he slips past you to sit on the couch. 

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Can’t even defend yourself,” Scara taunts.

“Lot of talk for someone who also hasn’t gotten laid in a while,” Aether whistles.

“Whose side are you on, Aether?!”

//

Later that day

“Let’s just get this over with,” you sigh as you follow your members towards the studio.

“I’m excited,” Venti hums, skipping ahead of you.

“I’m surprised at how quickly they pulled this together,” Xiao comments, opening the door for you, “It’s like they’ve been waiting for you two to fuck up.”

“Which you have, several times,” Lumine unhelpfully pipes up from behind you.

“I’m so sick of you guys,” you grumble, accepting your fate.

As you walked into the studio, you could only stare in disbelief at the high ceiling, the windows that took the length of the walls letting in the evening light, poppy color mottled across the sky as the sun quietly set behind you. Wealth practically drips from the room as you look around. You never even used this space for your album photoshoots, since you guys never needed such a big space for just you six.

In one of the corners you spotted a large camera standing tall in front of a white backdrop, the ground adorned with roses and petals. The white-pink petals fluttered in the wind as the fans in the corner caused them to float throughout the studio. The reds and pinks jump out against the white. It was sickeningly romantic. You wanted to throw up at the implication.

You spotted Jean talking to Scaramouche, who looked like she was giving the other a pep talk before she spotted you and waved you over.

“Yn! We were just discussing the photoshoot, Lisa will instruct you two after she’s done talking to the crew. I need to go chat with them, you two stay here and get ready,” Jean rushed out, calling over some stylists to fix you guys up, already out of breath as she dashed over to Lisa. 

“You’re late,” Scara says as his greeting as a group of women start fussing over your guys’ hair and outfits.

“You’re early, tryhard.”

“Not your best comeback,” Yoimiya whistles from a few feet away.

“Alright you guys,” Lisa calls out, walking over to where your groups were gathered getting touched up, “We’re going to get the group shots over with, then some solo ones, and we’ll separate to do some pairing shots.”

//

They all stood together awkwardly as they waited for the staff to finish setting up the cameras, once they finally did they led the group and positioned them. For group pictures they had all the girls stand to one side and the guys on the other, so you guys were in a crescent moon shape. Right after you all separate, the girls in another set and the males in a different one. 

The cameraman moved and adjusted everyone for what felt like a hundred dozen times before he finally clapped and positioned you guys to take the picture. He had you hold a pose where you were sitting on a bench and leaning on your side for what felt like forever, you would surely gain some sort of back pain from this. 

The most awkward part was the solo photoshoots. Even after becoming an idol you still felt awfully awkward when doing them, but when it was just your members you could manage. But being in front of Scara made you feel extra self conscious. 

People like Aether and Childe had a blast, and all the girls seemed to be enjoying it. But you felt quite embarrassed as you were told to pose seductively and show more skin. You weren't alone in this predicament, since Xiao and Kazuha seemed to be having a tough time as well when they were forced to manspread on some seats. Scaramouche became complacent and let the cameraman adjust him accordingly, he even went along with the whorish poses Lisa was having too much fun making them all do.

“Doesn’t Scara look good manspreading half naked like that?” Venti whispers in your ear.

You jump, startled as you stare back at him in disdain.

“No,” you scoff, “Stop ogling him.”

You’re still still stuck on the fact that Scaramouche is shirtless and actually has a decent build. Yes, it's objectively hot—something that you’d admit under the pain of getting an arm hacked off—but it's also quite insane.

With the group photoshoot finished, they all bid farewell as they separated off into their own corners to do their paired shots. 

“Alright, Scara and Yn you guys are going to be in Set B,” Jean stated, gently pushing the two of them in that direction. You look and spot the dreaded set where it looked like cupid himself threw up.

You both trailed behind the cameramen over to it, trying your best to not step and wilt any of the flowers artistically placed on the ground. 

“Okay, I’m in charge of you guys!” Lisa grinned as you guys approached her, “I’m going to have so much fun with you two.”

“Not too much fun,” Scaramouche grumbles as you both go to stand before the camera.

“Scara, don’t be a prude and unbutton your shirt. Yn, I need you to lay down,” Lisa instructs, walking over and pushing you down until you’re laying down on the petals. You were still reluctant at the fact you would have to do a paired photoshoot with Scara, so your reaction time was still quite slow. Lisa eventually just adjusted your body as needed and bent down next to you, spreading out your hair and laid some petals on it, standing up to admire her work. 

“Scaramouche, you’re gonna hover over them and hold that position for a while, and when I say next you lean in as if you’re going to kiss them. Is that alright?” Lisa asked, already heading back to the camera and having the cameramen adjust it lower to capture them in the frame. 

“If I say no, does that do anything?” Scara asks.

“No! Now get to it!”

Scara mutters a curse under his breath as he begins to unbutton his button up. You catch a glimpse of his bare skin before he’s kneeling down to knees and crawling over you, placing both palms on either side of your head and leaning forward. Since he couldn’t just hold a plank over you forever, Scara placed one knee in between your legs and another one beside your left leg for stability. 

Your breath was hitched in your throat at the proximity, you could see every detail of Scara’s stupid face and makeup from underneath him. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to how intimate you both were being right now, you’d never been underneath someone like this before. Unless you were being pinned down by Lumine during a fistfight of some sort when you accidentally ate her food. 

“Yn! Put your arms around his neck!”

You flinched at Lisa’s yell but did as you were told and wrapped your arms around Scara’s neck, bringing him closer as you did so. There wasn't anywhere to look but at Scara’s eyes, which felt awkward and weird in itself, so you opted for your eyes to wander. But they landed on his lips instead, which wasn’t any better.

Scara’s dark eyes bore into yours, his gaze not wavering as you looked everywhere but at him. That was before you realized this was a literal photoshoot and adjusted your eyes back to him. 

“Both of you, stop glaring!”

Scaramouche sighed above you, before forcing himself to soften his gaze towards you. It felt odd to be looked at like an equal by him.

You study Scaramouche closely, now that you’re forced to. He has these lips that are plush pink and they meet just barely like the slightest touch would coax them open. His eyelashes are long and there’s a beauty mark just shy of his eye coated over with concealer. His ears are small and there’s an assortment of earrings hanging off of them, ones he never wears during practice. He’s stupidly pretty. It makes you want to punch him.

“Alright, hold for ten then move to the next position.” 

Ten seconds? That felt like hours due to the way Scara was looking down at you, a fabricated gentle gaze in his eyes as he eyed you up and down. 

“Next!” 

“The faster we comply the faster I can get out of this stupid position with you,” Scara huffs, his voice barely above a whisper before he leans forwards and hovers his lips right above your jaw. Your body instinctively moves its hands to run through his hair, as if you both were actually going to kiss. God forbid.

“Cut!” 

The lights dimmed and Scara immediately pushed himself off of you. You slowly sat up, dizzy from the stress of being that close to someone you disliked.

“I’m the one who had to hover over you and you’re tired? Pathetic,” Scara huffs, reaching down to roughly tug your arm so you’re standing and almost immediately letting go of you after.

“Don’t you think this is a little too much?” Scara asks, walking ahead of you towards where Lisa was looking through the photos

“We made everyone do paired shoots, see!” Lisa says, turning the screen to show you. 

You and Scara scroll through to see all your members in pairs like you both, but none of them are quite like yours. 

“So Venti and Aether got to pose in a car and we had to fake a kiss?” Scara scoffs, “Where’s the delete button–?"

Lisa yanks the camera from him before he has the chance and shoos them off.

“I’ve got enough from you guys, go get your makeup undone.”

“This is so dumb,” you grumble as you follow behind Scara. All of this work because you both couldn’t keep your mouth shut during an awards show and now you had to fake being in love with the idiot.

You pray to Buddha, God, and whatever other deity out there that was most certainly laughing at you, that you can manage to get along with Scaramouche before anyone does notice it’s all fake.

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

when i say moans i mean like the song Mmmh by KAI like do u see the vision

also the album cover can be you or one of the other members depending on what ur comf with 😇

pls ignore how is it fake is listed twice 😔 also the lyrics are from taylor i can see you

yk the drill comment on the masterlist if i can use ur user and make u a fan

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes sorry guys for the long wait i was lowk goin thru it but im back 🗣️

taglist closed — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic @kazuhasbabe

[steddieas-shegoes]

not so different

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt ‘graduation’

rated t | 994 words | cw: mention of past character death, mention of alcohol, language | tags: childhood friends, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, good uncle Wayne Munson

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington didn’t cry, not even when he fell off the slide at the playground and his knee bled for 15 minutes and his nanny had to call his mom.

But this was a special instance where he was allowed to be sad. His nanny even said so. He watched all the kids in his kindergarten class taking pictures with their moms and dads, uncles and aunts, grandpas and grandmas, and wondered why he didn’t have anyone here for him.

He found an empty classroom in the big kid hall as soon as the ceremony was done, sat behind the teacher’s desk, and cried into his knees.

“Did your daddy not show up either?” A voice asked from in front of him.

He lifted his head, vision blurry and face wet, to see Eddie.

Eddie had already done kindergarten once, but he had trouble with his phonics, so they kept him behind. He was the first kid to talk to Steve in class, but within a few days, Tommy and Carol and Heather had scared him away from Steve entirely.

“Um, no.”

“What about your mama?”

“She’s with my dad.”

“My mama is with God. Or that’s what a lot of people say. I dunno if she was friends with him or not, though. I think she just got buried in the ground and people are scared to tell me,” Eddie was sitting next to Steve now, his leg knocking against Steve’s.

Eddie didn’t sit still very well, and the teacher always said he had ants in his pants. Steve hoped he didn’t have them in there now; he didn’t want any ants on him.

“Where’s your dad?”

“He’s probably getting ‘rested again. He showed up being silly and my Uncle Wayne had to take him outside,” Eddie shrugged.

“Is he tired?” Steve asked, sniffling and leaning more against Eddie.

“No. Uncle Wayne says sometimes he has too much of the drinks in the bottles I’m not allowed to touch and it makes him act like he don’t got a brain,” Eddie didn’t sound that sad, but Steve still wanted to hug him. “So your daddy isn’t here?”

“No. I think he forgot.”

“Sorry he forgot. My Uncle Wayne never forgets. He even came to the lunch room for my birthday. He brought me a piece of pizza!” Eddie always sounded more excited than anyone else. Most of the kids in the class thought it was stupid, but Steve kind of liked the way his eyes got wide and his smile got so big it took up most of his face. “Maybe he can bring you a piece for your birthday next year.”

“He doesn’t even know me.”

“You can come meet him!”

The classroom door opened just as Eddie started to stand and reach for Steve’s hands to pull him up.

“There ya are, Ed! Been lookin’ everywhere. You want some ice cream?” An older man stood by the door, button up plaid shirt only half-tucked into his jeans.

“Can we bring Steve? He’s my friend.”

Steve’s head turned, shocked that Eddie would say that.

“We gotta ask his parents first, Ed.”

“His parents didn’t come.”

“Oh.” The man looked Steve up and down before seemingly settling on something. He gave a small smile and gestured for him to come closer. “What’s your favorite flavor, then?”

“I dunno. Never had anything except vanilla,” Steve admitted, afraid to look at the man who had to be Eddie’s Uncle Wayne.

“Well, that just won’t do, will it? Let’s go try every flavor at the diner. Benny just added a few new ones. Think there’s even a bubblegum one.”

Eddie clapped his hands and dragged Steve out the door by his arm.

“I bet you’ll like mint chip,” he said as Wayne followed behind them, fond smile on his face.

🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦🍦

Steve Harrington had only cried a few times in his life, but this was the second time it was happening in front of Eddie.

Eddie wasn’t conscious this time, though.

“If you wake up, I’ll take you to the diner and we can have ice cream. They’ve got a new raspberry white chocolate flavor that you’d like. I could use some mint chip right now,” Steve said around the tears.

Wayne had left the hospital an hour ago to freshen up and grab one of his crossword puzzle books. Steve had been crying for most of that hour, holding Eddie’s hand and quietly begging him to wake up.

Two days without hearing his voice or watching his smile light up the room was too long, especially after having it for the last 13 years.

“How’re you gonna walk at graduation if you’re still asleep here, huh?” Steve closed his eyes and wiped at his cheeks.

“You can walk with me.”

Steve’s head shot up at Eddie’s quiet, but surprisingly strong voice.

“Eddie!”

“Hey, Stevie. Heard you’re takin’ me for ice cream,” Eddie’s smile was crooked, the bandage on his cheek covering one of his dimples.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except for Eddie being awake, being alive, being okay.

“Yeah, Eds. Every day if you want,” Steve wanted to crawl into the bed with him, hold him close and feel him breathing and listen to his heartbeat, be sure he was there.

“Gonna hold you to that.”

“Soon as you can leave, that’ll be our first stop. Promise.”

Eddie closed his eyes, but the smile remained on his face. “You slept?”

“A bit.”

“So no.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “A bit.”

“C’mere.”

“Honey, you’re hurt-“

“Come here.”

Steve got in bed slowly, making sure he kept space between himself and Eddie’s injuries.

“Think I’ll graduate?”

Steve snorted. “They’d be stupid to hold you back after you saved everyone.”

“Yeah. ‘M a hero. Fuck Hawkins High.”

Steve could feel more tears trickle down his cheeks, but these were different.

These were relieved tears, happy tears.

“Yeah, honey. Fuck them.”

“Love you, though.”

“Love you so much.”

[aliorsboxostuff]

Can I request grey house x male reader fluff or smut is fine , if that's not too much

Yessss honestly i was in the mood to write some fluff but if this turns out slightly bitter sweet erm,,,, i can only apologize hgdhdghjfjgh i can only write House so much before he goes out of character HAHAHA 

Within his arms.

Tags: Greg House x M!reader, Greg House, male!Reader, doctor!reader, Allison Cameron, Robert Chase, Eric Foreman, fluff, slight OOC on House's side whoops, Cuddling, Bantering, just pure cuteness and maybe bittersweet at the end.

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

—

It was midnight, precisely 15 minutes past 12 AM. 

For the past 3 days, the current patient House’s team is diagnosing has been going from stable to unstable in a matter of hours. With each problem they solved, another pop-up, and with the week ending it seems like you'd have to cancel your weekend plans if the patient's condition keeps deteriorating. 

You’ve just finished the last batch of blood tests, eyes grimy as you try to blink away the claws of sleep. There were a couple of times where you had to violently jerk yourself away, and then hold the urge to stick a needle of adrenaline into yourself just to keep testing stuff.

Somewhere in your head, about a couple of hours ago, Cameron came by to tell you that House might still be in his office until late. She was the only other doctor who knew of your little crush on the diagnostician, and pity you for it. You don't blame her. After knowing what the girl went through with him, you can't help but be sympathetic, though, despite her blatant warning, your heart can't seem to stop doing flips whenever House is around. 

A machine beeps. You grumble, standing from where you sat to retrieve the result.

“I should check in on House…” You mumble, betting on him still being around. 

Stumbling through the halls, you finally made it to your Boss’ office, and while it’s disappointing, you're not surprised he’s no longer present. The man must've gone home ages ago, he probably was packing up when Cameron informed you of his overtime possibility. You sigh, dropping the results of the blood tests on his desk before your eyes glance at the couch, enticing you with its soft cushions. 

The tests are done, and the results are on House’s desk. Surely he wouldn't mind you taking a short nap before checking in with the patient, right?

You check the perimeters, around the office and into the hall. House is nowhere to be seen. The night shift nurses as milling about, busy with their patients to monitor. Finally, you nudge the door to close softly, the glass making a short clink, before you drape your aching body onto the sofa. After hours of testing and sitting hunched on the stool, the sofa comforts your back. Groaning as you stretch your arms above your head, fringe dropping slightly as your head leans back.

You sigh, relieved, a mixture of boredom and sleepyness a toxic concoction luring you to close your heavy eyes. You drape your arms around yourself, your lab coat long forgotten somewhere in the office. Bringing your legs to your chest, you lean slightly to your left, resting your cheek on the headrest, eyes fluttering close. Surely House, if he was still even here, wouldn't mind, right? 

If he did he would've shouted at me by now, that was the last thought you had before darkness slowly engulfed your vision, even the insistent tapping of a familiar cane didn't wake you.

—

“–ow are they so comfortable together? That couch is way too small,” 

“And House is all long limbs and- Honestly its impressive,” 

“Can't you two just hurry up and grab my phone? I can take a picture of them!” 

Soft light slowly penetrates your grogginess, eyes blinking open, trying to adjust to your slow-awakening nerves. You yawn, sighing at the feeling of being well-rested, it felt comfy and warm, something soft draped over your body, and someone’s long arms wrapped around you. Leaning back slightly to try and greedily soak up what is left of the person's warmth, a small smile makes it way to your lips when-

Wait. Someone? 

“Are you three going to keep gawking or should I test how hard I can throw my cane?” House’s voice snaps at your senses, vibrating through you as your ears are pressed beneath his collarbone. You hear the man behind you groan, knowing House he probably gave the team the worst eye roll known to mankind. 

“I thought I asked for the test results last night? I don't see them on my desk,” His tone drops lower. Instead of seeing, you hear a quick sequence of shuffling and shoes shuffling on carpeted floors, knowing it must be your other co-workers hurrying out of the office. 

You gulp, finally finding your voice after you're sure it won't crack. “The results are already on your desk, know…”

House nods above you. His chin rests atop your head. “I’ve read through them.” 

He pauses. “You got the PTT wrong.”

“No? I’m sure it didn't…” Your voice fades.

You feel House shift. He moves your legs to drape over the couch’s armrest, alleviating more of his limped leg. “No, but I just bought us another half an hour, so unless you want to go back to acting professional, I suggest you-”

“No,” You croak out. “No it’s…. Fine. Thanks,” 

You feel House sighs. Either way, you decide to push your luck as you lean deeper into the doctor's neck, sighing, and pull at the blanket further. Something deep in you worries, a ball of anxiety growing steadily. You don't know if House knows of your little infatuation, if he resents it or lets it fester to consume you whole. He and his puzzles are too advanced for you to understand, though eventually, it boils down to his entertainment. Is he letting you do this to see how far you’ll go? 

Suddenly, you feel House’s hand rest on your shoulder, one finger tapping gently. “You lucky I was also staying late last night,”

You hum, relief settles in. Despite the outcome of this predicament, sleeping in House’s embrace while the man himself seems content enough to let you off the hook, you cherish this and compile it into your memory. 

Requests are open! Reblogs appreciated <3

[pshcomforts]

➳ mad | psh.

non!idolsunghoon x fem!reader

“we’re fighting this war, baby, when both of us are losing”

synopsis: in which, you and sunghoon have an argument that leads to you guys distancing for a bit.

warnings/content: angst to fluff. written in third pov. hoon’s a little possessive.. and he gets drunk later. mentions of alcohol. reader and hoon are both petty and stubborn. not proofread (i’m sorry if it’s bad). cursing! i think that’s it but lmk!

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 5.0k

a/n: fictional characters — dae (jungwon’s partner), min-su (heeseung’s partner), and ji-woo (jake’s partner).

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: mad by neyo

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

1:36 ──────|───────────── -2:37

keys aggressively landed on the floor as sunghoon dropped it in rage.

“you’re really making a big deal out of this?”

y/n rolled her eyes in annoyance. “yeah, i am because what you did was uncalled for.” she folded her arms, almost in disbelief of how he was acting.

“i pushed him off of you, y/n. you should honestly be thanking me.”

her brows scrunched together — “he’s my friend sunghoon. he wasn’t even close to me.”

he let a scoff slip by his lips in a moment of doubt. “yeah, he sure seemed like it with how close his body was pressing up against you.”

she squinted her eyes at his words. “okay lose the fucking attitude because i’m not having it.” he sent a glare at the girl, close to burning holes as he began to grow irritated.

“you don’t know the intentions of guys y/n.”

“he has a girlfriend, sunghoon!”

hoon poked his tongue out through his cheek as he rolled his eyes — face becoming stern within each second.

“guys still cheat on their girlfriends.”

y/n scoffed, shaking her head as her heart grew heavy. “his girlfriend is my cousin, hoon.” she stopped to think carefully with her words — “look, i love you okay? and as much as i enjoy seeing you jealous, it’s not a healthy trait for you to keep doing this.”

“keep doing what?” he gritted with his clenched jaw.

“hoon…”

he shook his head and turned his back against her. “fine, you want me to not protect you anymore? got it. done. i’ll act like we’re not even in a relationship if that’s what you want.”

✩ ‘now as i’m yelling over her’ ✩

y/n’s heart shattered within seconds before letting the irking feel wash over. “you’re really gonna be fucking petty about this?”

“if that’s what you want,” he bluntly said with shrugging shoulders. his back still faced her as he couldn’t have it in himself to look at her.

“i can’t believe you’re acting so stubborn right now.”

“he was close to you, how do you expect me to not act the way i am?” his jaw tensed when he thought back to the vision of seeing y/n and her guy friend near each other.

“we’ve been friends for a long time sunghoon, and he wasn’t even as close as you thought he was.” she narrowed her eyes at his back, crossing her arms as the events from tonight started to drain her.

“he’s probably just waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in and catch you.” hoon mumbled with an obvious scoff.

silence easily took the room as y/n stayed quiet, not wanting to give a response for a second.

“are you serious? like, are you actually really fucking acting like this right now?”

✩ ‘she yelling over me’ ✩

sunghoon finally faced her, his gaze darkened as his eyes darted at her. he was upset, and so was she.

“how else do you want me to act?” he spoke, voice almost absent in the moment as his throat needed to be cleared.

she rolled her eyes, swiping her tongue through her teeth as she spat — “you’re really unbelievable.”

“yeah i bet you’ll quote that to him soon when you tell him what happened.”

✩ ‘all that that means is neither of us is listening’ ✩

her eyes were filled with betrayal. and after betrayal, came pettiness. the doubt that was taking over their relationship increased as soon as the words left his mouth.

✩ ‘but we won’t let it go for nothing’ ✩

“fine, you want me to go tell him? i will.” her hands swiftly reached for her jacket she threw off when she got home, shoes already intact as her feet quickened for the door. the burdened girl felt a sudden tug on her arm, knowing that her boyfriend was trying to pull her back.

“don’t leave.”

“talk to me when you’re no longer feeling petty. i don’t want to hear your stupid comments right now,” she spat out — pulling her arm back with a cold shoulder.

“it’s dark and it’s unsafe, it’s better if you stay here y/n.”

“honestly, hoon? i don’t want to be under the same roof as you right now.” the girl put on the last piece of her warm clothing and left. she was tired and she wanted to sleep but not when her boyfriend was being unreasonable.

sunghoon fucked up. he was a naturally possessive guy with his girl but he took it too far this time, and he knew that.

he groaned out a heavy sigh, taking his seat on the couch as he finally processed the fact that they’d just gone through an argument.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

hours passed and y/n was still gone.

truth be told, she never went to her male friend’s place. of course not. they were close, but she wouldn’t dare to do that to sunghoon — no matter how pissed she was at him.

so instead, she slept over at ji-woo’s. more specifically, ji-woo’s and jake’s.

“you sure everything’s okay with you and sunghoon??” her friend questioned with a concerned look.

y/n’s lips pushed together into a firm line, showing that she was a little unsure about the answer herself. “i don’t know honestly… i can’t tell who’s in the right this time..” her head drooped down in guilt as she replayed the cruel words she said to him before leaving.

“it’s not your fault y/n, he was a little out of bounds this time but you guys should still talk it out.”

“yeah, it always works for my girl and i.” jake chimed in, flinging his arm around ji-woo.

y/n’s face scrunched in disgust — “ew.. well, you know that sunghoon’s pretty stubborn..” her eyes tilted up to look at her boyfriend’s best friend who was dating her friend. he let a gentle smile play on his lips as he only nodded in agreement.

“you are too, y/n…” ji-woo added on, giving slow rubs on her boyfriend’s hand.

“you’re not making the situation any better but thanks.. bitch.” she rolled her eyes before shaking her head, earning a gasp and a laugh from the couple in unison.

“i’m sure you guys will work it out soon,” the dimpled girl said, giving a light kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek afterward.

“ew you guys make me want to be single..” y/n replied, face still scrunched in disgust.

jake awkwardly laughed, holding onto his girlfriend as he heard her yell — “shut up! just go to sleep!”

the couple returned to their bedroom, leaving y/n behind before the loud voice of jake boomed out, “and check your phone y/n! sunghoon’s been blowing up mine so i’m sure he is for you too!”

the girl raised her brows, turning her head to her phone on do not disturb. she clicked the screen and found the device to be flooded with texts from various group chats, and him.

‘You okay?’

‘Did you really go to his place?’

‘Oh I just saw you’re with Ji-Woo and Jake. Did you get there safe?’

‘I’m sorry for taking it too far’

‘Please come home 🫂🫂’

‘Good night gorgeous, I miss you ❤️‍🩹’

y/n grumbled out a groan, debating on whether to text him back or leave him on read. before she could decide, she received a text from her friend’s group chat.

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

YOU BETTER TEXT HIM Y/N!

JI-WOO MAKE SURE SHE TEXTS HIM

hoon’s gf <3:

and what if i just leave him on read!

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

BITCH

He keeps blowing up Jungwon’s phone

Tell him to stop!

hee’s fav 🤍:

he’s fucking blowing up heeseung’s too

hoon’s gf <3:

and you guys are too with mine!

hoon and i are.. fine…

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

BITCH

Omg stop lying!

Where’s Ji-Woo???

hoon’s gf <3:

HAHAHA

she’s with jake so she’s most likely asleep!

as should all of us so good night losers!

y/n quickly shut her phone before she could get a response from them. she sighed in defeat, truthfully wishing she was in sunghoon’s arms as she remembered the fact that ji-woo and jake were most likely cuddling in the next room over.

‘i miss you’ she thought to herself, giving a soft pout as she reminisced when he’d be clingy and not want to let go through the night.

she gave another sigh as she picked up her phone, ignoring the texts received from the recent group chat as she responded back to sunghoon.

hoon’s gf <3:

i’m okay

we’ll talk soon, night

hoonie 🤍:

I miss you with me

y/n rolled her eyes as a grin started to show on her face without even realizing it. “whatever..” she mumbled to herself, not even giving a reply as she felt her heart thump out of her chest.

as the thoughts of her boyfriend lingered in her mind, so did the argument. they bickered time to time, but usually things worked out in the end. this time though seemed a little more different, but she was sure they’d make it through — just not right now.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

a few days had gone by since their quarrel, and y/n remained to still be at ji-woo and jake’s place. she couldn’t face sunghoon just yet, knowing that he would most definitely still be petty about it. she would too though, which is why she avoided him for the time being.

bright shades of orange colored the sky as the day cracked on sunset. it was only ji-woo and y/n in the house — jake left to go drink with his friends, which included the rest of the enhypen members.

as the two girls were preparing dinner, a sudden ring call was made from ji-woo’s phone.

“hello??” she yelled out with an eyebrow raise — “jake?”

y/n slowly eased in on listening to the conversation without even realizing as she tried to mind her own business.

“what??? i can’t hear you jake! sunghoon??”

y/n’s head quickly shot up at the name. her boyfriend??

“y/n? oh, she’s right here.” ji-woo nudged the girl’s arm while uttering out, “jake said that sunghoon wants to talk to you.”

“what?”

“apparently you’re not picking up his calls and he’s kind of drunk so.. take it.” she gestured her hands closer to y/n. she sighed before taking the phone.

“hello?”

“y/n, that’s you right??” jake yelled out on the other side of the phone, his words being slightly slurred out.

“yes… why’d you ask for me? is sunghoon okay?” she mumbled, feeling a little uneasy in her tone. a few seconds passed and it was obvious that her friend’s boyfriend didn’t know how to respond back. “jake?? hello?”

she turned to ji-woo who was still focused on dinner, eyes laced with concern as she heard her call out her boyfriend’s name.

“y/n?? is that my gorgeous girl on my friend’s phone?” sunghoon’s voice suddenly slurred out. she heard him give a soft chuckle that sent butterflies to her stomach.

“hoon.. you’re drunk aren’t you?” she said with her brows furrowed.

it was like he could hear how upset she was as he replied, “just.. a little…….. sorry, angel.”

y/n scoffed a little, even though she felt her heart flutter at the nickname. “are you serious sunghoon?” the distress of hearing his drunken state got to her as she exhaled a heavy sigh.

“i’m sorry…”

almost immediately, the phone caught onto the shuffling movements of hands as hoon’s voice could no longer be heard.

“hoon???”

“sorry y/n, he was fighting for the phone to hear your voice. he’s kind of.. uhm sad but if you could just come though, it’d be great…” jake suddenly intervened. y/n caught hold that he took the phone as he gave a chuckle afterward — “oh! and bring my girl too, i think she might need me to drive me home.”

a few other voices mixed in the background that y/n couldn’t quite grasp onto — only for jake to talk in her ear again. “actually, could you bring min-su and dae too?? heeseung and jungwon are begging for them after hearing that you and ji-woo are coming.”

the girl on the end gave an exasperated sigh while rolling her eyes. “you guys just had to drink…” she mumbled before turning to her friend who was still chopping vegetables for dinner. “here ji-woo, ask your boyfriend for the location. we gotta pick them up.”

ji-woo’s face scrunched in confusion — “pick them up??”

“just take the phone and talk to your boyfriend.” she shoved her hand that had the phone to her friend before leaving to put her shoes on.

soon after, the girl in the kitchen hung up the call and approached the front door where y/n stood.

“apparently, they took your and hoon’s car so you have to drive it back when we get them. did you text min-su and dae?”

“just about to,” y/n responded. the two left out the door soon after gathering their necessities.

hoon’s gf <3:

the boys drank and they want us to pick them up

get ready @everyone

i’m with ji-woo so meet us there, min-su and dae!

hee’s fav 🤍:

what the fuck

i knew my hee was drunk

jungwon’s bae 🩶:

Omg!

No wonder Jungwon was drunk texting me

hoon’s gf <3:

LMAO just get ready 😭

minutes passed and the group had finally arrived to the scene of their boyfriends. min-su and dae came with their own cars after realizing the members carpooled in the vehicle owned by sunghoon and y/n, and another by sunoo.

they walked into the restaurant together with head shakes and heavy sighs to the sight of each boy in a drunken state. well, most but niki. the youngest was drinking lemon lime soda while giggling at how each member was acting.

“wow you guys actually came?” he snorted, downing another cup of the refreshing soda.

y/n shook her head in disappointment while searching for her boyfriend. she soon found him laying on jake’s shoulder, his arms clinging onto him as his cheeks flushed with a bright red. out of all of the members, it seemed like he was the most drunk.

jake softly shook the boy while mumbling — “hoon, your girlfriend is here.” the boy blinked his eyes before sitting up straight to see y/n in front of him.

“no, my girlfriend is mad at me. she wouldn’t ever want to come pick me up,” he sulkily said with a pout.

y/n softly smiled as she went closer to him, hands reaching for his hair to catch his attention. she let it run through the silk strands as his face scrunched together.

“oh! who is this pretty girl??” sunghoon mumbled, giving a bright eye smile as he grinned ear to ear.

her lips automatically curled into another smile as her eyes softened with love. “hey hoonie,” she mumbled only for him to hear.

it didn’t help though as he shouted, “HOONIE? is this really my girlfriend???” he flung his arms around her neck to pull her into a hug. his face plastered on a huge smile as he felt relieved to finally be in her presence again.

the name call that could be heard throughout the restaurant caused their friends to turn heads.

“uhm ew!” min-su yelled out as she held onto a stumbling and blushing heeseung.

“they’re making up, baby! leave them alone,” her boyfriend retracted back to her, leaving quiet giggles in the air as she tried to calm his asian glow down.

“they’re finally talking again,” jungwon chuckled with a head shake. “that’s a good thing huh babe?” he comforted his head closer to dae’s neck as he remained to be smiling.

“just keep resting wonie,” dae mumbled while petting his hair.

the drunken boy returned the hair pets as his hand went to dae’s curly hair, messily fluffing it as he beamed a smile. his dimples went on display while the younger male started to giggle from his act. he was more clingy than usual with the alcohol in his system but his sober boyfriend didn’t mind.

jake and ji-woo laughed together as his hands clung onto hers, forcefully intertwining as he planned to not let go of hers. the boy was drunk, he just wanted to be in his girlfriend’s arms.

“he was talking about you all night.” niki, the most sober one, snorted as he took a bite of his food. “seemed like he needed this more than any of us.”

y/n turned her head to niki — “did he really?”

“yeah, he was stressed about the fact that you guys fought.“

“you guys should really make up. i cant afford to drink alcohol every week.” jay retorted with a smile afterward.

the girl shook her head before responding — “well we’re here now so we’ll be taking our leave.” she softly patted her boyfriend’s arm, only to earn a head shake on her shoulders.

“let’s just stay here..” sunghoon beamed with a sloppy grin on his face.

y/n rolled her eyes — “okay we’re definitely going.”

“us too. come on, baby.” said min-su who was already dragging heeseung up on his feet.

the four couples stood up, each enhypen member propping themselves up on their partner as they felt the ground to be unsteady.

“will you guys be okay driving home?” y/n asked with her brows knitted together.

“us? yeah for sure, niki didn’t drink so he can drive us home.” sunoo responded while being slightly slurred with his words.

“you sure niki??”

“we’ll be fine, i’m a good driver.” niki said, giving a laughing scoff afterward.

y/n rolled her eyes before nodding her head. “okay fine, just.. drive safe please.”

the group sectioned themselves off — the couples going off in their own cars as the remaining three went in sunoo’s car with niki being their designated driver.

“you guys will be fine right??” y/n asked to her friends.

the three nodded in response. “of course we will, jungwon’s the drunk one, not me!” dae defended with a smile towards his boyfriend.

“hey!” won yelled.

his boyfriend shrieked out a laugh at his reaction. “i’m joking! i’m joking!”

“okay.. we’re leaving.” min-su hurriedly said with a disgusted expression.

“drive safe!” ji-woo shouted to the couple. “you guys be safe too!” she pointed at y/n and dae.

the two nodded before returning to their cars.

“let’s go home, sunghoon.” y/n softly murmured to him.

“don’t you mean hoonie???” he loudly questioned, eyes still squeezing shut with his shit eating grin.

she scoffed in a playful sense as she nudged his head. “shut up and close your eyes..,”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

throughout the car ride, sunghoon honestly fell asleep while she drove. she didn’t mind it though. talking to him while he was in a drunken state wasn’t ideal so she kept quiet.

when the two had finally arrived home, his arm clung around her neck to stable himself. the apartment was quiet, almost empty as the burdened presence of her filled every cracks of each room.

“god, you’re really heavy.” y/n grumbled with a groan.

sunghoon let out quiet words that she couldn’t comprehend, so she excused it as they finally arrived to the bedroom.

she pushed herself off of him so he could forward into the cushioned bed. “finally,” she groaned out, back area in pain from his tall body towering over hers.

the bed was neatly done. her side of the bed was obviously untouched as she hadn’t been home in days. with her absence, hoon couldn’t have it in himself to take up the remaining space that was always for his girlfriend.

when his body finally hit the bed, he whined out a groan that emphasized how tired he was from the alcohol.

“good night hoonie..,” she softly mumbled, feeling her heart already give in just at the sight of him. she gave faint rubs on his hand as she admired how sleepy he looked.

everything from his facial features had her heart thrilled with a warming feeling to the gut. his hair was messily laid out, and his eyes were gently resting so easily. his clothes were softly scrunched and ruffled, baggy almost with how he landed onto the mattress.

after admiring how gorgeous he looked, y/n decided it was time to let the boy sleep — so she turned away from him, prepared to take leave from the room. she was honestly still mad at him, and wanted him to least be sober when they finally met after their argument. but he wasn’t, so she thought it best for her to spend the remaining night on the couch.

as she reached out for the door, she felt a sudden pulse of his hand kick in as it wrapped around her wrist. the tug shocked her.

the girl opened her mouth to speak but sunghoon had beat her to it — “don’t go.” he refused to let her leave as his grip became stronger. he was scared.

✩ ‘girl i don’t wanna go to bed (mad at you)’ ✩

her face contorted into confusion. “i thought you were asleep?”

“please don’t go,” he mumbled — ignoring her words as his brows scrunched together. “i want you here with me.”

✩ ‘and i don’t want you to go to bed (mad at me)’ ✩

y/n pressed her lips to form a line as she said, “go to sleep hoon.” she tugged her hand back and he let her, most likely from being a little too drunk to do anything else.

she wanted to stay with him and be in his warming arms, but they were still going through an argument. so she turned off the light and situated herself on the couch soon after.

it wasn’t comfortable, but at least she was home.

after a few more minutes of being on the phone, the girl drifted herself off to sleep. her back faced the open side of the couch as she knocked out.

when hours passed, a pair of arms had suddenly wrapped around her body and embraced her into a back hug. it was sunghoon. he groaned out a sigh of relief as he let his arms cling at the waist.

it had probably been a little past midnight when the male found himself next to an empty space on the bed. he frowned before finding his girlfriend on the couch.

his chin softly laid on top of her head from his height. the cold hands that belonged to him most definitely awoken her when she grumbled out a confused whine.

“hoon..?” her hand reached out to the back of her, finding its place in his hair as he gave a faint chuckle in the silence.

“told you not to go,” he mumbled next to her ear, sending shivers down her spine as his arms pulled her closer to his embrace.

✩ ‘but baby, can we make up now?’ ✩

“don’t sleep without me, it feels lonely.” his hands soon found its way to her hands, placing it over hers as he squeezed her tighter. “haven’t been able to sleep without you here.”

✩ ‘cause i can’t sleep through the pain’ ✩

his warm hold finally made her feel like she was at peace, like the empty feeling in the apartment simply vanished within the seconds they were together.

sunghoon lifted his head and removed one of his hands to move her hair that sprawled out on the pillow, placing a gentle kiss on her neck afterward. he breathed deeply on it before muzzling his head into her neck. he was home.

“hoon-“

✩ ‘we can fuss, and we can fight’ ✩

“i know you’re still mad at me and that’s okay, but can i just hold you like this? just for tonight? i’ve missed you..,” he whispered against her neck, voice trailing off at his last sentence with how weakened he felt. “will you let me?”

✩ ‘long as everything’s all right between us, before we go to sleep ’ ✩

the girl felt his grip get a little tighter, almost as if he was preparing for her to reject his request, but she didn’t. instead, her hands followed to where his were, which were between her waist and hips.

they overlapped and she rested hers on top of his, closing her fingers so she could reassure him back.

“of course, hold me every night” y/n croaked out.

she couldn’t see it but hoon’s lips were tugging on a smile. he moved a few hair strands out of her face before pushing his face closer to her neck.

she softly laughed at the touch, earning a low chuckle to be heard from him as well.

“that’s my gorgeous girl,” he mumbled in her ear again.

sunghoon let his arms hold onto her tighter as they both began to sleep in the presence of each other.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

when the afternoon light peeked through their windows, y/n had been the first to awoken from the two as hoon was still knocked out from the alcohol.

the space on the couch was tight with how they slept but she didn’t mind. well, maybe she did a little but it wasn’t a big deal with how much she had missed him.

she had to get up though. it was her daily routine to do a big stretch right after she woke up, and possibly go to the bathroom for number one too. so she did. her body rose up and she just couldn’t help herself to simply admire the boy in front of her eyes.

the pretty boy was sound asleep with his clothes he wore from yesterday’s outing. “so handsome..” she uttered under her breath, eyes being glazed with captivation.

“am i that attractive?” he said as his inner corner of his lips curling.

y/n’s eyes widened with shock. “oh shit i didn’t know you were awake..”

“your staring woke me up.” his eyes fluttered open as he gave a half smile to her, hair messy and out of place.

“sorry.”

“i should be the one saying sorry,” he refuted.

“that’s sweet hoon, but i really gotta pee so please move, you’re blocking the whole sofa.” the man gave a wide chuckle at her words before moving his long legs aside. she rushed out to the bathroom to do her business, returning back to see him sitting up with his thick brows scrunched together.

“you wanna talk now or should we talk later?” y/n awkwardly asked with an eyebrow raise.

sunghoon gave another grin at her words. god, he was smitten for this girl. “let’s talk now because i want to apologize.” before he could continue on, he quickly placed a warm kiss on her forehead when she sat down beside him.

“hoon!”

“i haven’t kissed my girlfriend in days. what do you expect me not to do??” he gave a shrug to his shoulders that had her rolling her eyes.

“stop distracting me!” the girl said with a firm tone, trying to sound composed. her cheeks betrayed her though as they brought a warm color.

“do i distract you?”

“sunghoon- are we gonna talk or do i have to ignore you again?”

“okay okay fine,” he sighed at her words. “i’m sorry y/n. i was jealous and i admit that. he wasn’t close to you, but i just hated the way he couldn’t stop whispering things to you.”

she watched his face start to slightly frown at the remembrance of that night, and she only laughed at it.

“it was wrong for me to say all of that when we were arguing and i wish i didn’t. i’ll always protect you,” he added on. “i just.. can’t help it. i always get the protective urge to keep you safe.”

his head was drooped low in shame, and it caused y/n to cup his cheeks for him to face her. “you’re so cute hoon.” she placed a quick peck on the lips before she continued, “i know you’re a possessive guy and i’m okay with that. there are just certain times where it gets taken too far and it feels like it won’t impact well on our relationship.”

“i know.. but-“

“look, i love it when you’re jealous. it’s funny and hot at the same time, but you seriously have nothing to worry about. my friend was just whispering into my ear because it was loud and he was trying to tell me what he was gonna get for my cousin’s birthday.”

sunghoon’s lips formed into duck shaped lips as he quietly whispered, “oh..”

“you’re adorable, loser. i’m sorry too, i know you’re just being protective.” she grinned ear to ear as she planted another soft kiss onto his lips. as she prepared to pull away, she felt his hands on the back of her neck pull her in again.

his lips curled into a smile as she became slightly shocked with the sudden tug from him. hoon placed his hand on her chin, smiling even more as she finally got the chance to pull away with how distracted he got.

“god hoon!” a loud smack was sent to the arms.

“i missed being with my girlfriend, can’t i just kiss her!”

“geez we don’t talk for days and you become this clingy,” y/n said with an eye roll.

sunghoon gave a light grin as he rubbed his bruised arm. “only for you,” he mumbled with an eye smile.

“whatever.. let’s just go get lunch.” she stood from the couch and grabbed her boyfriend’s hands.

“what if i just want to stay home all day with you?”

“i’d love that but you drank a lot, so you need to eat something.”

a few more push and pull from the arms were made until sunghoon finally gave in.

the two went out for lunch and talked about what they did in their days apart. they were okay, and better than ever after getting through an argument. nothing could ever separate the two from each other.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

[hoonieyun]

locked up

locked up

pairing: lee heeseung x reader “y/n”

genre: angst, criminal!heeseung (kinda), bad boy x good girl

warnings: violence, jail, cops, drugs and alcohol, profanity, suggestive, adult themes, 18+

summary: when a night out with your girls turns into you having to convince a police officer that you’re not a part of the group of guys that got into a brawl at the club, you soon realize that you’ve caught the eyes of a certain boy in a black leather jacket. 

notes: this was completely self indulgent after i saw these photos of heeseung… also... anyone interested in a part2?? 🫣 anyways enjoy (not proofread haha!!) 

word count: 2943

the music from outside of the bathroom club was bumping, walls slightly shaking at the loud music, neon lights flashing, and a line was building outside of the women’s bathroom. you were 3 people deep in the bathroom, you and your friends ningning and karina. you were sat on the toilet, peeing out all the alcohol you had drank, ningning was in the mirror fixing her makeup, and karina was glued to her phone; probably still arguing with her ex.

the whole reason you were at the club tonight was to help karina get over her ex. she found out that he had a whole other girlfriend that he was hiding when she came across the other girl’s instagram account. several of the photos being of the girl inside of a car that resembled her ex’s car a little too well. after an instagram DM starting with “hey girlie <3” to the other girl, they soon exchanged not only numbers but both of their dating history with their now ex. 

he had been two timing the both of them for the last 6 months. needless to say, he’s now single and you were now at the club with your friends trying to get karina’s mind off of it. 

“y/n, are you done yet? this is my song!” ningning asks and you tell her and karina that it’s fine if they wanna go back out. you guys bid each other a quick farewell as the girls head back out to the club’s dancefloor. you soon followed after getting yourself situated, fixing your hair and reapplying some lip gloss. you blew the mirror a little kiss before you made your way out, trying to find where your two best friends have gone. 

you narrow your eyes as you scan the dance floor to find your friends, the neon lights of the club not aiding you in any way. you huff out a sigh after not finding them so you look for a new approach as you head up to the second floor of the club. standing on the mezzanine, you scan the dance floor from above to look for your friends and just before you’re able to find them, the music at the club abruptly stops and the DJ is making an announcement on the mic. 

the DJ stops the music and calls out a group of people at a section of the club that seemed to be right under the mezzanine, out of your field of vision. the DJ calls for security to break up a fight that has started and at first you brush it off because there was no way your friends would be in a fight right now but that was until you heard your best friend’s voice, “fuck you! get the fuck off of him!” ningning yells and your eyes widen at her voice. with a sense of urgency you run back down the stairs and try to push your way through to get to your friends. 

knowing ningning when she gets drunk, she not only gets louder than usual, but she also gets the energy of a gigantic bodybuilder ready for a brawl. 

after going through the crowd of people and reaching your friends, you see ningning, a glass in hand ready to throw at one of the guys, karina is holding her back while a group of guys you didn’t know were fighting with one another. 

you quickly run over to ningning, who was still yell profanities and threats to the group of men, you reach for the glass in her hand just before she tosses it at the guys who were fighting with one another. “oh my god what the fuck is happening?” you say as you set the glass on one of the tables and your friends avert their gaze towards you. 

“these idiots ran into me while they were fighting and i spilled my fucking drink!” ningning says, looking down at her dress; an apparent wet stain just on her abdomen where the drink must’ve spilled. “karina why are you crying?” you ask her, wiping her tears with your fingers as you try to get an answer out of her. 

“i don’t know!” she says while sobbing as more tears come out of her eyes. you roll your eyes at her with a sigh as you try to get your friends to leave the club. 

“excuse me! maam! you three need to come with us.” a security guard says and you shoot him a confused look. “what? why? we weren’t a part of that!” you tell him, referring to the group of men who were now broken up and being held back by several security guards. he gives you a look of denial, indicating that he didn’t believe you, but he gestures to ningning who was now back to cussing out the men as they were hauled out by the security guards. 

you roll your eyes at ningning, at a loss for words, and just as you’re about to explain further; one of the guys being kicked out catches your eye. a tall boy in a black leather jacket, dark tusseled hair, and a charming smile attached to a handsome face. he quickly looks you up and down, his smirk widening at the sight of you, “what’s up mama?” he says with a chuckle as the security guard pushes him further out of the club. 

you were stunned by him but are taken out of your thoughts when you hear ningning and karina behind, calling out to you. 

“y/n! help they’re kidnapping me!” karina says, very apparent that she was still drunk. 

“come on miss, you guys need to leave.” the security says, slightly putting his hand on your back. you quickly retreat away from him when you feel his touch, brushing away his hand with a disgusted look, “i’m leaving! don’t touch me!” you yell, shooting him a glare as you follow your two friends being escorted out of the building. 

as you exit the building, the cold night air embraces you, giving you goosebumps. you’re met with red and blue lights as you see several cop cars outside of the club. the group of guys had gotten separated and were now being questioned by different police officers and you also seen ningning talking to an officer, arms being thrown in the air as she explains her side of the story while karina stands to the side, still sobbing. 

you walk over to ningning and karina and a police officer puts out his hand in front of you in an act to stop you, “she’s with us.” ningning says and the cop let’s you join. ningning explains what happened, how they weren’t a part of the group of guys who got in a fight but because she got involved by yelling and throwing a bottle; she had to come down to the precinct with everyone else. 

“you threw a bottle?” you ask her after hearing the new information. she shoots you a sheepish smile and you look over to karina who was silently nodding. eventually the cop says ningning has to get inside the car so you tell her it’ll be all fine and that you’ll follow behind and meet her there. 

you grab karina and hook your arm with hers as you walk towards your car, having already sobered up enough to drive. you helped karina get in the car, buckling her seatbelt, as she babbles on about how she’s so sad ningning is going to jail and you guys weren’t going to be able to see her ever again. 

“i’m going to miss her… we should drink in her honor.” karina says and you just laugh at her statement as you step into the drivers seat. “she’s just going in for questioning, she’s not dead, karina.” you explain and it seems karina doesn’t hear anything but the word dead. 

“NINGNING IS DEAD?” karina says, now sobbing hysterically as she hears your news. you give her a tight lipped smile as you rub her back. “okay, sweeheart.” you say as you turn the key in the ignition. 

the drive to the precinct isn’t long but it feels like eternity as you go over all of the possible outcomes of tonight. would ningning end up being locked up? did you guys even have enough money to bail her out?

you and karina walk into the police station and the bright white lights are blinding and if you weren’t sober before, you definitely were now. you sit karina down on one of the chairs and she starts chatting it up with a random stranger who was handcuffed to the chair. she begins rambling about her ex and the stranger seems to actually be actively listening and gives her advice. 

the lady at the front desk tells you that you have to wait until ningning is “let out”, as if she was actually locked up, until she can tell you what to do next to help her out. 

just as you’re about to sit down next to karina, a boy walks through a door that leads to the back. the same boy that seemed to make you feel giddy back at the club. his charm oozed through as he strolled through the building. his black leather jacket clung loosely to his body but you could tell he had broad shoulders but you were left imagining what could be under the black shirt that hugged his body tightly. 

he was leaning on the receptionist's counter, waiting to fill out some paperwork as the lady at the desk sifted through several folders of paper, eyes set on you and a smirk still on his face. you tried ignoring his gaze but you couldn’t help but glance over at him. when your eyes meet, he shoots a wink at you and heat begins to rise in your cheeks as you blush at his flirtacious gesture. 

you slowly walk over to him, trying to keep your cool, but in all honesty; you were nervous. you hadn’t dated anyone in a long while and if you were being frank, this boy seemed like bad news but you couldn’t help but feel like you were being pulled towards him. like there was a magnetic pull in between the two of you. 

“hey, what’s a pretty girl like you doing in a place like this?” he says and although the line was a bit cringe and outdated, it certainly worked on you. you blush and laugh at his statement and explain why you were there. he laughs at your answer and you soon learn that he was the one who accidentally ran into ningning and was on the opposing end of the bottle that she threw. you apologize on her behalf but explain that he should’ve seen it coming. he nods, “yeah, true. wish it was you instead though. then i may not have been so upset.” he says, clearly flirting with you and you can’t help but blush. at this point you were probably as red as a tomato but you wished that the conversation wouldn’t end. 

“ahem!” the lady behind the counter clears her throat, gaining both of your attention. “fill this out.” she says, monotone and a stoic gaze as she slides over a pile of papers towards him. that was when you realized you still hadn’t gotten his name. 

a few minutes, he was donefilling out the paper and handed it over to the lady. flashing her a smile and it somehow changes her mood. the lady does a complete 180 and is suddenly very nice, smiling, and even blushing at him. his charm was just undeniable and he surely had that effect. was that a red flag? maybe. but you didn’t care. 

he turns back to you and before he can say another word, you hear karina yell out ningning’s name and jump out of her seat. you turn around and look at her and she’s waving at ningning so you peer behind the boy and there was ningning. walking through the same exact doors the handsome stranger had walked through just a few moments ago. “give me a sec.” you say with a smile as you run over to ningning. 

the three of you hug one another and ningning tells you that someone bailed her out. “what, really?” you say, wondering who it could’ve been. “i’m glad you’re alive!” karina says and ningning just looks at her, “long story.” you explain and she just nods; hugging karina even tighter. 

“do you know who bailed you out?” you ask her and she shrugs, “mmm all i know is his name is lee heeseung.” she explains and the three of you ponder if you knew anyone by that name. you excuse yourself from the girls for a second and head back to the handsome stranger who was patiently waiting for you to return so you could continue your conversation. 

“so when do i get to know your name?” he says and you do just that, sharing your name, and he nods. “beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” he says flirtingly and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t give you butterflies in your stomach. “i’m heeseung by the way.” finally telling you his name. 

you nod at his name, repeating it in your head when you realize something, “heeseung? like lee… heeseung?” you ask and he says “yup!” while popping the p. “did you happen to bail out my friend? the one that threw the bottle at you?” you ask and he nods. explaining that it was the least he could do after spilling a drink on her and getting all three of you wrapped up in all of their mess. you shake your head at him, smiling at his kind gesture, thanking him as you drag him towards your two friends. 

“hey! you’re the fucker that ran into me and spilled my drink!” ningning says and you put your hands up in front of you in order to stop her. “ning! wait! he paid for your bail!” you explain and she instantly backs down. he once agains explains why he did it and ningning forgives him but still narrows her eyes at the man. saying that she forgives him but she won’t forget it. “you’re lucky she’s alive!” karina adds and the three of you just look at her in confusion. “long story…” you say once again. 

the four of you walk out of the police station, “bye sir!” karina says, waving goodbye to the man who was handcuffed to the chair, waving back at her. you and heeseung walking behind your two best friends as they make their way to your car, yelling a couple times that the two of them were walking towards the wrong car. before you and heeseung reach your car, he stops you, grabbing your wrist and twirling him around to face him. “i know we started off on the wrong foot, but can i take out sometime?” he asks and although you make it seem like you gave it some thought, in your head it was an instant yes. 

heeseung smiles at your acceptance and you switch phones to exchange numbers. “see you around, pretty girl.” heeseung says, shooting you another wink paired with his charming smile. “have a goodnight heeseung!” you say and you weren’t sure what compelled you but you tiptoe up to him and give him a kiss on the cheek. as you’re pulling away from him you realize what you did so in an effort to cover up your spontaneous action, you thank him once again for bailing your best friend out. 

“you better not break her heart or else i’ll break your nose!” ningning yells from inside of your car and you just laugh at her, apologizing to heeseung about her but he says it’s fine. “she’s just protective, i get it. i’ll be sure to prove myself to both of you.” heeseung explains and you don’t know why but those simple words hit close to you. a sense of comfort knowing that not only was he willing to prove himself worthy of your trust but also the trust of your closest friends. 

you watch heeseung walk back into the station, telling you that he needed to wait for his friends to get out. after joining your friends in the car and making sure they have their seatbelts on. ningning responds with a yes but you hear nothing from karina. the two of you look into the backseat and she has fallen asleep but had her seatbelt keeping her up from slumping over. as you’re about to pull out of the parking lot and head back to your apartment, you receive a text. 

from: future boyfriend

looking forward to our date, pretty girl.

can’t wait to feel those lips again. 

you couldn’t help but smile and laugh at his text. like you were a little girl all over again talking to her crush for the very first time. you shoot him a text before driving off and he wishes for you to drive safe. 

after settling your friends in your guest room, you finish getting unready and find yourself cozying up in bed. you spend several hours of the night texting with heeseung and at some point he calls you on facetime, to which you end up on call until 5 in the morning. falling asleep on the phone with one another. 

needless to say, you dreamt about heeseung, his charming smile, radiant eyes, and enchanting demeanor. thankful that he didn’t end up getting locked up. 

copyright 2024 - present © hoonieyun all rights reserved

all writing here is fiction & not in any association with characters mentioned.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

You know, all I want is to spend some time with Nikto on his off-days and have him read Dostoyevski to me, if you don't want to make this like a single fic you can maybe incorporate it into "ravishing allure" some time later 🥹

"…and there can be no love otherwise."

PAIRINGS: Nikto x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: If anyone could make the bad days better, it was Nikto.

WORDCOUNT: 2.3k

WARNINGS: Stress from work/life, lack of sleep, mostly fluff, comfort, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

There were times you wondered if putting up with your job was really worth it. Sure, you needed the money to pay rent, food, and bills, among a laundry list of others that just seemed to never end, but was the cost of your sleep the metaphorical soul you had to hand over? 

Every day you came home tired to your little apartment—neighbors loud and the light in the bathroom flickering because the electrician had never shown up to fix it. Tired, but unable to fall asleep until everything else was done. So, you’d make dinner, clean, shower, sit down to mindlessly watch a show on TV for half an hour, and then stumble into bed. 

Only to stay awake and stare at the ceiling. 

You can’t say why you do it, thinking over the things you did wrong and the awkward conversations you have with coworkers; you shouldn’t care about it—really, you shouldn't. Yet you can’t stop your brain from slipping like a slide to every instance, every millisecond where you felt the air of the interaction change. Side-eyes and confused looks. 

And then at six o’clock, you’d drag yourself out of bed with bags on your face and a drained expression to do it all over again. 

“Hi, how can I help you today?” 

“Oh, of course, we have some in the back—I’ll go grab it for you.”

“Thank you! You have a good day now, Sir. Come back soon.”

It just felt fake. Greet, help, take money, wave and smile, repeat, repeat, repeat. But maybe today would be slightly different, by the second pair of shoes that were placed in your apartment entry as you slowly opened the front door. 

Boots—black and set an equal distance apart with a cleaned surface despite the places they’d been and what they’d probably stepped through. They were neatly situated under the small bench you had for convenience, and you blink at them as you softly shut the door and lock it. A large, and matching in color, jacket was folded and placed atop the flat surface—keys sitting in an indent. 

Nikto, ever the neat and tidy one. He must be back then. 

While the two of you didn’t live together, the bear of a man had made a habit of coming over when he returned from deployments with KorTac—you’d given him a key the second year you’d been together. 

Your ears faintly twitch to the sound of cooking, nose moving just a second later to the scent of something on the stove. Clinking pans and silent footsteps. He knew you were here, sure as anything. Weakly sighing, you shift out of your jacket and shoes; tossing them in the general direction of the bench as you rub at your eyes and drop your purse to the floor with a slap of canvas. 

How do you explain looking like shit? 

Shuffling into the kitchen, you undo some of the buttons on your blouse to let yourself breathe, dress pants running along the carpet as your feet pad like a hound’s slapping paws. Vision blurry and eyelids threatening to close on you, you find the tall man in front of the stove, moving something in a pan with sizzling oils with the wide flex of his shoulders.

On another burner, there’s a large pot of simmering water—the counter has already been cleaned up of flour and mess, a tidy pile of dirty items sitting in the sink to be washed. You stare for a second before you grumble a hello, forcing your body to sag into his back as you walk over and slap your forehead into his spine. 

Nikto grunts lowly in response and continues what he’s doing. 

While it wasn’t rare to find him in the kitchen—in fact, you prefer it when he cooks—but usually when he got back you opted to order supper. He always insisted, gruffly, that he wasn’t tired, but you just wanted him to relax.

It was fun to baby him. 

“Didn’t know you were going to be back today,” you whisper into him, arms hanging by your sides. 

“We were released early,” his voice is deep and harsh—a bark of his Russian accent and rasp. Every word is thought out and said with purpose. “Conflict in schedule.”

You hum lowly, and it’s immediately after that Nikto stiffens, back going straighter. It’s the fact that you don’t even notice that you’ve completely screwed up your own routine that tips him off; how your change in pace had made him initially suspicious as he’d heard you enter the apartment. 

You hadn't commented on his eyes. Hadn’t tried to get him to turn around to see them. 

There was a running gag that Nikto tolerated—you’d grab him carefully by the chin and tilt his blank eyes to you in all of their icy glory. Sparks of glass and chilled storms inlay near the pupils. You’d stare, smile, and then say, “Yup, he’s still in there.” 

Even if you couldn’t see it under his balaclava, Nikto’s lips would part and he’d study your face for a minute in silence, before lightly bonking his forehead to yours. A strange and unique kiss that only he could perfect in his intimidating way. 

You hadn’t even attempted that. 

Nikto puts down the fork he was using to push around the fried potatoes and mushrooms; Pelmeni still simmering in the pot for another five minutes. The cut-up dill and melted butter on the counter are pushed from his mind with a purpose in his veins.

“What is wrong with you?” Nikto turns and you stifle a fatigued snort as you look up at him. It wasn’t his fault, of course. English isn’t his first language, and you found his broken, or sometimes bare-bones blunt, sentences to be endearing.

“Such a way with words, hm?” You can’t help but tease, and you can see the annoyed furrow of his brown brows, nose huffing a breath. “Just tired, Nikto.” Your words make his gaze slide along the very visible bags and the red veins of your eyes. 

He mutters something in Russian under his breath, lids narrowing on you as he grasps your shoulders and moves you back so he can look you up and down slowly in a near clinical breakdown of atoms. As if he can peel back clothes and splay nerves to light. 

“You look horrible…Sickly.” You can see the brain working as your lips go into a line to stay off your loud laugh. “Like dead woman walking.”

He was so much better with actions than words, this beast of wide shoulders and shifting thighs that could crush your bones to dust in an instant. You liked that about him—you never had to guess when he was being genuine or not.

“Work’s been rough,” you chuckle lowly, sliding on a fake smile that doesn’t fool him for a second. “Nothing I can’t…figure out, okay? Thanks for making supper, I love when you cook.”

Nikto’s eyes soften just a smidge, his hands holding your flesh just the littlest bit tighter. His expansive chest rises and falls in a heavy sigh, the bulk of his stomach and pecs visible under the tucked black t-shirt and his spare cargo pants.

Without a word, you’re being lifted with little more than a huff of, “моя нежная девочка… keep awake.”

You squeak as you’re settled onto his shoulder, hanging off like a sack of grain as his arm wraps over the top of your tailbone—large other hand on your thigh and fingers firmly grasping your skin. 

“Nikto—!”

“Hush,” he grunts, a bark of a chuckle wafting out as your hand playfully hits his back with a pathetic slap. The man raises a brow, smirking under his face covering. “What do you expect to do with that, girl?” 

“To let you know,” you poke at his spine and he shifts your farther down his shoulder in retaliation as you scramble and grasp at his shirt; giggling as your head sways to his steps. “That I won't go quietly!” 

“Good to know,” he grumbles. “I would want nothing less, eh?” 

His hands make sure that you don’t fall, even if you were to start wiggling or slipping.

You go limp and let him carry you into the living room, face burning with appreciation as your limbs let themselves rest. Nikto slings you back over his shoulder and drops you to the couch as you laugh, head purposely hitting the pillow as your chest rises and falls with breaths. 

The man stares down at you as you chuckle in gasps, always one to stare at any chance he gets. His arms crossed at his chest, feet apart, and shadow slipping over you from the overhead light. You gaze up silently, a smile on your lips, and quizzically raise to your brow.

“Stay,” is what he says to you, icy vision sliding down your body with a hum of approval. He sends a teasing slap to your thigh before striding back into the kitchen, narrowly missing your leg kicking out at his arse. 

Nikto scoffs at your attempt and disappears.

Normally you’d run at him and jump on his back, hanging off like an animal, but being as fatigued as you are, you call a mumbled curse at his name and curl sideways. Your face nuzzles into the pillow, smiling lightly before you let your eyes momentarily close.

You must have taken a quick nap because it seemed not even a second later that you were being shaken awake by a hand on your arm; spreading up to run over your cheek as your lashes flutter. “Милая.” You sigh, vision blurry and your head pounding. A strong scent hits your nose and you perk—rubbing at your eyes and face. “Eat.”

A plate of fried potatoes with mushrooms and another bowl of Pelmeni are on the coffee table, and the former is shoved into your face by a strong hand, the small dumplings topped with melted butter and dill. 

“Pelmeni,” Nikto states in a monotone, blinking at you as if you don’t know his own culture’s food by now. He made them often enough, which was why you liked him so much—food was truly the way to your love.

You’d taken up baking some of Nikto’s favorite desserts once, had failed horribly, and left most of the kitchen work to him—but the funny thing was that whenever you did bake, the man still always cleaned his plate. You’d never seen him turn down your food, even when you could see his eyes scrunch with restrained aversion.

“Да,” he would grunt out, “good.” It was so strained you always laughed so hard your lungs hurt after. On the off-hand, Nikto’s skills in the kitchen were enough to get you to sell your car for just another bite. 

Sitting up, you carefully take the bowl and look up at him, smiling deeply. 

“Thank you, Nik.” The man hums and turns his head away, still unused to outright affection even two years in. “Nikto~” you draw out his name, tilting your head to the side and trying to catch his gaze again. 

“Silence, woman,” he growls with no real heat, huffing before carefully placing his forehead to yours again as you expected him to. You giggle and stare into his eyes smugly. 

You knew what he was waiting for. Your blood runs hot, face going into a picture of care. His blues blink at you as snowflakes mingle with mist; a mix of cold and desolate landscapes that offer no reprieve from harm besides the small glint of fire they gain when they lock with yours. 

“Yup,” you whisper, and Nikto’s shoulders loosen as he presses more deeply into your skin. “He’s still in there.” 

He stares intensely, and the faintest of twitches under his balaclava tell you all you need to know. 

Nikto makes sure you eat your fill and when you’re done he takes the dishes and washes them while you shower and get into pajamas. Sluggish, but warmed by a full stomach and your boyfriend’s care. You come out to find he’s already reclining on the couch, book in hand as the other bends behind his neck. Lights were low and the heat turned up. Nikto opens his side to you and your body snuggles next to him—it had taken a long time to earn his trust like this; to be near him and to freely give affection.

It would be longer still until you saw his face, but you can live with that. There was no rush, and you knew it was a large soft spot even if he’d never shared the details as to why.

You sigh deeply and Nikto grunts, moving his arm behind your back and keeping you to his chest as he reads. 

This is a common sight from him, and he begins reading to you in his mother tongue from the works of Fyodor Dostoevsky, the grit and gravel of his voice sliding into words and sensations as you practically feel it coming from his chest and throat. Your head situates itself under his chin, feeling his free hand playing with your hair until you go brain-dead except to the way he feels and sounds. Harsh words had never been more gentle.

Halfway through he switches to English, his sentences now more slow and thought out and your lashes flutter; breath soft as you take in his scent of oakmoss and amber. His heart beats steady and true. 

“‘To love is to suffer,’” he reads, fingers rubbing circles into your clothes and letting you sleep as the day grows faster into a cold night. He glances down with easy eyes, gripping you just a bit closer as your body entirely goes limp in his embrace. “‘...And there can be no love otherwise.’” 

He silences himself and watches for a moment before he closes the book, dropping it silently to the coffee table and staring past you at the ceiling. The man feels your warmth bleed into his scarred and damaged skin and whispers something akin to vindication.

Nikto listens to your steady breathing and holds you. Steady. Noiseless. 

He grunts to himself and only presses you closer.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

[blackholesun321]

Shanks Doesn’t Have A Dream! And I Can Prove It!

Ok, y’all, can I talk my shit again? Because I have thoughts and feels about our good old one-armed favorite disaster of a party pirate, Akagami (Red-Haired) Shanks. I’m going to be completely honest: I may have had this rant before, but I can’t find it, and no one else has this take. I need to talk about my vision of him that I’m like 60/40 percent sure is correct canon-wise and would explain so many of his—let’s call them quirks.

I think one of Oda’s beliefs and the teachings that One Piece has so blatantly told us about, such as personal freedom, charting your own destiny, and making your own adventure along the way, are a reflection of Shanks’ character as someone who never got that chance and never would. That, to me, makes him one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Let me cook here. I’m not going to cite anything because I don’t want to, and I do that enough already in college, so we’re running on trust me: I’ve read the manga and watched a lot of theory videos. So lock in because this is gonna be long.

Anyways, back to my thesis. Shanks is a character of contradictions. He was the youngest person to ever become a Yonko (but then Luffy came in), probably one of the strongest men of his generation. He regularly fought the world’s strongest swordsman for fun. He has a crew whose members each have over a million bounties on their own and are so physically or politically strong that they can stop a war in its tracks just by waltzing in and saying "stop." Not only that, he stopped Kaido in his tracks and made him turn around. His father was the Pirate King and claimed him as his successor; he could even be tied to the Celestial Dragons. He’s charismatic, and when things need to get done, he gets down to business.

On the other hand, he’s also a goofy guy who regularly gets blackout drunk, has a horrible sense of pant style, parties his life away, and thinks bullying kids is the height of comedy. He cares about his kid to the point that he forgets to be a responsible Yonko but also wants to fight him for the One Piece. He seems so blasé about everything but is obviously, in the background, making connections and being all sneaky about something; he has plans but also didn’t decide to go after the One Piece until after his prime. He’s been stagnant but moving and shaking around the world, all for some big ideal, some big plan, something huge.

It is my stance, idea, theory, if you will, that all this makes sense if you look at it from the viewpoint that nothing—not the planning, not stealing the fruit, not the power growth, or making his way to Yonko status, not building his crew, even the hurry-up-and-wait—he’s been doing all these years, his whole life? Is because he’s hasn’t made a single decision for himself since Gol D. Roger died.

Outrageous! You cry! Shanks, a man who supposedly spouts on about being free and charting your own course and being a pirate? Is none of those things? Impossible, you will say. I will ask you how you got into my house and to please leave. But aside from the pirate bit, yes, and I can prove this. Calm my chili-baby’s and listen.

Yes, Shanks had his life taken from his adventure, his destiny set and marked right before the Loguetown execution. It is my belief that all this can be laid at the feet of—drumroll, please—Gol D. Roger himself!

Gasp! Crying! Fainting in the audience! I know, what a twist. Let me explain. In a flashback, we see Roger talking about Ace. It was Roger’s belief that Ace (his child) would be the savior of the world, the new Joy Boy, destined to destroy the World Government with what they learned from the Poneglyphs and Laugh Tale. He believed their generation was too early and that the next would usher in the new world. Ace would be his true successor. A little narcissistic, but a man like Roger probably couldn’t help but be. Not just that but it probably felt prophetic he found Laugh Tale of course that had to mean something?He was also dying as it was and put things in place for Ace to survive. He told Garp where he was so Garp could take him away with Rouge—a safety net, that sure was useful. Once she ya know, died.

With the understanding that the next generation would usher in the new age, Roger took aside a thirteen-year-old Shanks and revealed everything. He told him about the birth of the new Joy Boy, everything about Laugh Tale, and how he believed his son would usher in this age. I believe he gave Shanks this purpose: to pass on the straw hat to his son and help him become a man strong enough to fight the World Government. I think little traumatized Shanks, who is about to lose his father and has had the weight of the world put on his shoulders, takes it to heart and buries everything he is to fulfill his captain's last wish. And that’s horrible. I’ll get into the psychological implications later, but holy shit, Roger, what the fuck? He’s thirteen! And about to watch you die!

But yeah, doesn’t this make sense? Why the hell when Buggy wanted to go after the One Piece, did Shanks hold back and say they should wait, losing his brother because he has a secret his captain entrusted him with. Why the hell did they know about the Gum Gum Fruit and were searching for it? Why did Shanks spend so long on a little island like Fousha in the East Blue? Not only was he looking for the fruit, but he was also looking for Ace! (And maybe Rouge.)

Why has he been making all these connections but doing jack shit with them? Why did he become a Yonko but claim no territory for fucking years on end and do nothing really with his status? Why does he rely on such a small crew of such powerful individuals? Why does he party his life away, seem almost aimless, and not start to go after the One Piece until Luffy reaches Gear 5?

Because he’s the one to pass on the legacy; he’s the placeholder, a cog in the proverbial machine that is fate. He made sure Joy Boy would exist. And now that the dominoes have been placed and are falling fast, he’s going to challenge Luffy and make sure he’s strong enough to fight for it—strong enough to take on the World Government, the Celestial Dragons, and Imu—and then hand him a big red button to help do it afterward. That button will be all the sneaky shit he’s been doing in the background.

He’s been the bridge between his captain and this new age. Sure, it was too early, but his influence rippled out through the people he trusted and touched in his life. The same way Rayleigh trained Luffy, knowing what he was preparing him for in the next part of his journey, waiting years for him to arrive at Sabaody.

And all that needed to happen was the dreams, adventures, and sacrifices of a young boy. It’s almost poetic—a son for a son (or sun, in this case). My therapist says I make light of dark shit so I don’t have to emotionally feel the pain.

And now we get into the sad portion of today’s episode. Prepare the tissues because this is why I think Shanks is one of the saddest characters in One Piece.

Because think about it: Shanks’s life was charted for him; his adventure and future were stolen, decided with the reveal of Laugh Tale and all the secrets around it—everything, all so the next generation could one day rise up and bring a new dawn. Shanks never got to have a dream because it was stolen from him. He’s a walking, talking empty automaton, fulfilling his captain's dying promise made by a grieving thirteen-year-old.

He is dreamless, and for a man who is, in some sense, the freest in the world—can go anywhere, can do anything, is powerful enough to stop wars—he’s still trapped, chained to a future he can only wait for.

I don’t think he knows who he is outside of this. I don’t think he thinks he’ll live beyond it. (Which like I will fucking cry because this is gonna be kinda true.) I don’t even want to call it an ambition. Duty, maybe. Damned promise, more likely. And it’s ruined every relationship outside of it he’s ever had. Aside from one—

(Don’t even get me started on him and Mihawk and miscommunication, failed expectations, and Mihawk being the epitome of everything Shanks isn’t. With his dream chasing to the ends of the world, ending up unfulfilled and alone. Finding companionship and what he thought were similar drives in each other, but once Shanks lost his arm and his hat, he realized Shanks was never fighting for something he wanted. And it broke him a little; it broke their relationship—one of the only relationships Shanks chose for himself, with nothing to do with his mission.

And Buggy—he gave up his brother, was forced to leave him alone, and couldn’t say anything, couldn’t tell him the truth, couldn’t destroy his dream. And he couldn’t even be selfish enough to make him stay. Like, oh my God, the drama.)

Doomed yaoi aside, the only thing and person I think that messed up his perfectly made plans is Luffy.

Sweet baby Luffy wasn’t so sweet before the Red Force arrived. In the manga, it is mentioned that he was an angry, bitter child, lashing out almost like Ace to a degree. But Shanks, by just being kind, by being good, and by reaching out and teasing this little ball of anger, transforms him, saves him in a way. He gives him a drive, a dream, and a morality to live by. He gives him everything he never got—everything stripped from him. Shanks turns him into the type of person a special kind of Devil Fruit might call out to and get eaten by.

Nika chose Luffy because Shanks saved him by just being good and kind, giving this kid something beyond his anger and bitterness. Shanks gave Luffy the idea of freedom, and in return, he allowed Shanks’s perfectly clear mission to shatter. I think this Shanks makes the first real decision in his life: he goes, "Fuck, well, we’re backing this horse now," and Luffy becomes his child—not his captain's, but his future to bet on and help grow.

And I fucking love that. Luffy saves him just as he saved Luffy, in a way. And that’s his kid, his successor, more than it ever was for Roger. I will die on this hill. (If you want, you can even look at it as Shanks finally choosing a dream all his own and it’s Luffy.)

Will Oda see it this way? Probably not. He has a habit of brushing off stuff like this; I think he’ll make Shanks’s character into a noble man dedicated to stopping the World Government and not even think about the implications of tying all that to him at such a young age. But I do think Shanks expects to die when Luffy comes to fight; I think he wants to, just how Mihawk wants to die from Zoro’s blades. Because what is there beyond this? (And again, parallels!)

And I believe he will live! (Not Mihawk—he's gonna die.) Shanks will live, and symbolically, Luffy will free him from this self-imposed duty, this promise made by a child. Shanks will have made, even unwittingly, the thing that would free him, allowing him to move forward in a world where all the purposes he needs to find are his own.

And holy shit, that’s a lot for him, but then Blackbeard will happen, and he’ll die only having known freedom for a short while. Luffy will cry and create a new dawn, and it won’t be for nothing—except it will be for everything to Shanks.

In conclusion, Shanks doesn’t have a dream of his own. He never had a dream; if he did, it was squashed out of him in order to fulfill a promise set by his father, Gol D. Roger.

He loses his brother, loses his control over his destiny, and as his father sets such things into motion, Ace, Roger’s child, will become the new Joy Boy.

He makes a connection with someone outside of that mission and purpose, and in doing so, creates the opportunity for his own freedom and his own choice in Luffy.

Later down the line, Nika/Luffy will eventually free him in the same way he created his own freedom back then, giving him a new choice going forward. They will free him from the mission that was placed on his shoulders as a thirteen-year-old child, and afterwards, he will consequently be killed by Blackbeard, and everything will be horrible, and we will all cry. The end.

I hope everyone enjoyed this thesis on Shanks. Feel free to use it and steal it to your hearts content. I would love to write more if anyone has any questions or things they want to ask; I will be opening up my ask box for questions. I would love to go into more detail on his relationship with Luffy, his rivalry with Blackbeard, and how that ties into all of this, as well as his relationship with Mihawk (fuck man the parallels!!) or maybe Buggy. (Which I have less on it’s just really tragic.)

[cynarisgayass]

Sorry for lack of post, work has been absolutely kicking my ass, so I'll drop these little low effort headcannons I came up with after doing the newest genshin event. GN fairy reader. Slight spoilers??

Also to the person who sent in your Zzz request I promise I will work on it soon. Forgive me.

Wanderer:

He's very much the type of guy who even though he thinks of you as the gorgeous forest fairy, he's not gonna say it to your face. He will show up when you need help and act all reluctant about doing things for you even though he enjoys them. Then one day out of nowhere he will be staring at you and just accidentally blurt out what he's feeling like, "You're beautiful sunshine."

Then we all die.

Navia:

Girl literally calls you her partner and would die for you, so to say she'd be the type to compliment you with no shame is a understatement. The two of you would be walking through the paper woods and she would just go, "By the way, I just thought I'd tell you how much I appreciate you and all you have done for me. You truly have my heart, partner." And then she'd wink at you as your face turned bright red.

Kazuha:

Why's he here? Cause I like him shush. Anyways, forest fairies are a great source of inspiration for poems yeah, but he'd also want to draw you as well. Combine both his word building of your powers and beauty along with a image that he says could never truly capture the wonder that you are, but give those who look at it a glimpse. Then he'd ask if you wanted to sit under a paper tree and share bulle fruits with the flying squirrels.

Diluc:

Lets be honest, he wouldn't believe you at first. Forest fairy? Not real. Then he'd look around him, see the paper forest and probably have a little mini panic attack without moving a single muscle or looking any different on the outside. He'd eventually loosen up after you explain things and I don't know why, but I totally see him dancing with a fairy reader. If it helps the forest...he will oblige, albeit reluctantly.

Alhaitham:

Wouldn't be fazed in the slightest. Couldn't actually care less that he's in a different world, he's read fairytales before, he's seen what visions can do so it's no shock to him. You however, kinda surprise him. Normally he's always nonchalant about others, but you...he doesn't mind letting you sit with him while he reads. He doesn't even mind helping you when you need him too, his ways of romancing are subtle, but sweet.

Damn, actually wrote alot of these. I wanna do this again with more time and I'm also hungering to write some smut too so whenever I'm not struggling to stay awake after work I'll be posting more~

[jjsmaybank20]

What She Wants

Tierna Davidson x GN!Reader

Summary: 3 times Tierna tries to get you to kiss her hand + 1 time you think you figure out what she's trying to get you to do (you’re wrong, but in the best way)

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: So sorry its been so long, guys. heres a little self-indulgent thing that I got a bit of inspiration for. heres the link the video i'm talking about.

navigation  woso masterlist

---

When Maitane had offered Tierna her hand as a part of a video she was doing with the team, Tierna hadn’t known what to do right away. As the blonde stood there, waiting for her to do something with her hand extended, it occurred to the center-back that she wanted her to kiss it. Tierna did so with a laugh, before running off to her car. 

On her drive home, Tierna couldn’t stop thinking about the trend, and how you would react if she did it to you. It was a known fact among your friends and family that you were pretty oblivious, especially when it came to trends as well as your romantic life. 

---

When you had first seen your now-girlfriend in a coffee shop that you frequented, you had struck up a conversation easily. That was the thing. You were great with people, yet you could never tell if it got anywhere romantic. The two of you exchanged numbers, and Tierna was thrilled when you accepted her invitation to dinner with her. After the two of you had eaten, Tierna had said, “That was great. This has been a wonderful date. Probably one of the best I’ve ever been on.” 

You had grinned at her, blinked, and asked, “This is a date?”

Tierna had looked at you confused, before backtracking because she thought you didn’t want it to be a date. You had quickly interrupted her, assuring that you would love to call it a date. You told her that your friends always told you that romantic signals went over your head, and that you were really interested in taking her out for a second date if she wanted. She accepted, and the rest is history.

---

1.

As Tierna pulls into the driveway of your shared house, she decides that she is going to test the trend on you. She's interested in seeing how long it takes you to realize what she wants. She exits her car, fishing for her keys from her bag. She unlocks the front door, slipping inside and smiling at the smell of whatever you made her for dinner wafts through the house. 

When she walks further into the house, she finds you seated at the dining table with a plate of pasta and your computer open to some project for work. You turn around when you hear her footsteps, and your face lights up when you catch sight of her. “Hey! I made you some pasta, but I didn’t want it to get cold so it’s still in the dish on the stove. I have to finish this up, but when I’m done, we should watch a movie or something, and you should tell me about your day. Whatever you want to do.”

Tierna grins, loving how considerate you are. She makes herself a plate before joining you back at the table. She watches you as you focus on your work, smiling softly as you push your glasses up when they slide down your nose. As Tierna affectionately stares at you, she almost forgets what she was going to try. 

Out of your peripheral vision, you see your girlfriend extend her hand. Without looking up from your project, and almost without thinking, you grab her hand and lace your fingers together. You continue to work, now with just one hand, but you don’t mind as long as you are holding onto Tierna. 

The center-back scoffs to herself, but she can’t help but smile at you as you continue to attempt to type with just one hand. You may not have understood this time, but she can’t be disappointed with you for a second as you squeeze her hand comfortingly. 

---

2.

The second time Tierna tries the trend, the two of you are snuggled up on the couch together. It’s been a couple days since her last attempt, waiting for the right moment to try again. She suddenly untangles herself from your arms and stands in front of you with her hand extended. You stare up at her, confused at the sudden movements. Instead of noticing her hand, you look up at her face while you mindlessly smack at her palm softly. 

“What’s up, baby? Do you need something? I can grab it for you, you can sit down and get comfortable again,” You ask. Tierna silently shakes her head, fending off the smile trying to capture her lips. You give her a lost look, and she gives up for the moment with a huffed laugh. 

She hadn’t realized just how hard it would be to get you to do what she wanted, especially when it was such a simple thing. Maybe she just needed to make it more obvious.

---

3.

You were seated on the floor in the living room, folding laundry on the carpet. Tierna walks up to and holds her hand out, palm down, just like all the times before. You look at what you have in your hands, seeing that it is one of her training tops. You hand it to her, but she gives it back to you with a shake of the head. She keeps her hand out, confusing you even further. You grab her hand and hold it, but she shakes herself loose with an exasperated but amused huff. 

She emphatically extends it a third time, and you just stare up at her, lost. “Babe, love, honey, light of my life. I genuinely don’t know what you want me to do with this.” Tierna just angles her hand down a little further, hoping you’ll get the hint. 

She watches as your face lights up in what looks like understanding, and she smiles, thinking that you finally got it. Instead of just leaning forward and kissing her hand, though, you jump to your feet and run towards your shared bedroom, calling, “I’ll be right back!” over your shoulder. 

She watches you when you return, holding something behind her back. She doesn’t even realize that she still has her hand out until you grab her hand again. “I didn’t know you knew I bought it, but honestly, this was going to happen soon anyway. Why not just do it now?” 

+1.

Tierna’s eyes widen as you get down on one knee, still gripping her hand. “Tierna Davidson. My love. I love you more than words can express. I think that you are the prettiest, funniest, most intelligent person I know. I also respect the hell out of you, and I want you to know that I will always be in your corner for the rest of our lives, if you’ll let me. I’m rambling here, I’m a little nervous. What I’m trying to say is… will you marry me?” You finally let go of her hand, just so you can open the black velvet box you were holding in your other hand. Inside is a beautiful diamond ring, in the exact style that Tierna had told you she would want. 

The center-back covers her mouth with her hands, completely shocked. The two of you had discussed marriage, to the point where you and Tierna were ready to get engaged. It was a matter of when, not if. She hadn’t known you had already bought the ring, though. The brunette lets out a happy sob as tears escape her, and she quickly exclaims, Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

You grin up at her, your own happy tears sliding down your face. You push the ring onto her finger and stand up to pull her into an elated hug. As you hold her tightly, Tierna begins to laugh. You fix her with a loving, yet slightly confused look, and she finally decides to tell you what she was trying to do. 

“I didn’t know you had bought the ring. I just wanted you to kiss the back of my hand.” She breaks off into another fit of giggles at the amused and embarrassed look on your face. The center-back pulls you down into a kiss, mumbling reassurances that she absolutely wanted you to propose as well, it just wasn’t what she was angling at. 

You lift her up suddenly, making her squeal. She wraps her arms around your neck as you carry her bridal style into your bedroom, getting excited as you murmur, “We need to celebrate our engagement, and I need to take care of all the kisses I have been lacking on.” She presses a loving kiss to your cheek, relishing in the care and love she feels from you. 

---

Tierna_davidson: she finally did it! (still hasn’t kissed my hand though) tagged @/y/n_15

> lynnwilliams9: literally couple goals! Congrats!

>kelleyohara: baby T all grown up! 

>maiitane9: who knew kissing my hand would lead to this 😘

>lavellerose: Yayyy!

>emilysonnett: 👍 (congrats you two)

---

Join my taglist!

[andchaos]

It came to me in a vision

This has probably been done before, but whatever

[maivolpe]

I'm giggling rn what if reader and bucky go on a mission and reader gets shot while trying to protect bucky but the bullet was actually a 🌟 special 🌟 bullet and bucky has to take care of reader until they feel better (LIKE A BARBED WIRE BULLET omg and they keep bleeding through their bandage and finally find out what bullet it was GASP.)

fun fact: this would probably technically be a war crime! so sorry for how late this is, i appreciate your patience and thank you for requesting ♡

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

pairing: bucky barnes x reader cw: cursing, gunshot, blood wc: 918

“bucky?”

he didn’t respond. he was focused on something sam had said, face frozen in a smile, oblivious to the shadow at the window, the glint of metal in the sunlight.

but you could reach him. you dropped your glass, crossing the kitchen in three steps, planting your hands on his chest. you pushed him, both of you tumbling towards the floor, and then…

“hey, hey, hey…” bucky’s voice floated across the blankness, calm and measured. “don’t move…”

why did he say that? you weren’t moving.

“…didn’t hit anything important, you’re okay…”

what didn’t hit anything important?

“…muscle and fat, jus’ muscle and fat…”

and suddenly it occurred to you what he was talking about.

everything came rushing back, your train of thought screeching back into the station, and you gasped, face pressed against the cold tile of the kitchen floor. pain struck up your leg like lightning, and you cried out, bolting upright.

“easy, now, sweetheart,” he grunted, laying his vibranium arm across your chest while he pressed a cloth to your leg with his other. “can’t have you moving right now.”

fuck, it hurt. you’d been shot before, but this time it was different somehow. it burned with a fierce intensity, ravaging your leg. you felt like you might explode at any second.

“sor- i- i-“ you stammered.

“hey, don’t forget to breathe, doll.”

you bit down another cry, forcing air out through your nose.

“good, that’s good… sam?”

you caught a glimpse of him ripping off a section of his shirt for a tourniquet. somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt sad. you’d liked that shirt. it was a shame he’d have to use it on you.

“buck, it- fuck…”

you really felt it now, warm and sticky blood seeping through the cloth, flowing down your leg. the pain seemed to deepen, spreading up through your calf to the rest of your body, and you gritted your teeth to halt a pained scream.

“sam?”

bucky glanced down at your fear-stricken face with a mix of guilt and shame, but quickly offered you a tight-lipped smile. “nothin’ we haven’t done before, huh sweetheart?”

“feels different,” you groaned. “w-worse.”

he swore, propping your leg up onto his knee. you hissed at the movement, but held as still as you could while he pulled the strip of cloth up to your thigh.

a door slammed somewhere behind you and sam finally drifted into your swimming vision, breathing heavily. “i got him.”

“great,” bucky grunted, pulling the knot tight with his fingers. “help me out, will ya? i think it’s a dum-dum.”

then sam swore, and you knew to be worried. “give me that.”

bucky hovered back over you, lifting your chin with his hand. he thumbed at your cheek, and you leaned into the contact. “eyes on me, doll. sammy’s jus’ gonna tighten that up for you.”

you nodded, but it felt detached, as if you were slowly floating away from your body. his bright blue eyes were getting harder and harder to focus on, your body begging for the respite of unconsciousness.

“she’s going,” you heard bucky say, and you let the darkness take you.

when you next awoke, the pain had faded to a dull throb, and you were decidedly not dead. it was a good start.

you were in bed. not your bed, though. the gentle crackle of a record player sounded somewhere in the corner— bucky’s bedroom, then. sunlight was just beginning to stream through the blinds.

the super-soldier was curled up in an armchair next to your bed, head cupped in his palm. his hair, loose and unkempt, dangled in front of his face. he must have nodded off at some point during the night— that was rare, but then again, you were sure it had been a long one.

“what’s a dum-dum?” you croaked.

bucky startled awake, instinctively checking over your bandaged leg before meeting your eyes. his gruff expression melted into one more sympathetic, and he reached out to squeeze your hand.

“hey there, trooper.”

“hey. what’s a dum-dum?”

he chuckled at your persistence. “dum-dum bullets are expanding projectiles. they’re used to enlarge wounds and increase impact shock.”

your eyes widened, and you pushed yourself up on your elbows, straining to catch a glimpse at your calf.

“we got you fixed up,” he said quickly. “don’t worry.”

“thanks, buck,” you murmured, sinking back into the cushions.

he didn’t respond, and you blinked up at him. he had paled, the grave expression you were so used to seeing returning to his face.

“you shouldn’t have done that,” he mumbled, voice gravelly.

“you were gonna get shot,” you said. “i did what anyone would’ve done.”

bucky shook his head. “you should’ve let it happen.”

“i don’t think it’s fair,” you argued. “just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you should have to take it all the time.”

“i can take it,” he corrected. “i am guaranteed to come out on the other side. you’re not.”

“that’s so stupid,” you sniffed.

“i know,” he said, smiling sadly. “but if it means keeping you safe, i’d take it every single time.”

you sighed, beckoning at him. “get in.”

he gingerly climbed over you, careful to avoid jostling your leg. you threw the comforter over him, and once he was settled, pressed your forehead to his.

“you owe me, barnes.”

he chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “my knight in shining armor.”

you know he’s teasing you, but you don’t care. “of course, princess.”

･｡ﾟ: ∘◦☾◦∘｡ﾟ.

ko-fi ♡

[florascent]

Human

Pairing: Keigo Takami x gn!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Genre(s): Slight smut, mainly hurt/comfort, ends in fluff

CWs: Dissociation, multiple pet names, mention of sex, reader has glasses

You lifted your gaze. His name jolted into your mind as you met golden honey, sweet and warm just for you. You wished you could bask in it, feel it deep in your bones, let it melt into and under your skin. How nice that would be. How pleasant. You would drown in it happily as you had done countless times before if you could.

Instead, you observed him in a detached manner, hyper-focused on his face as you rememorized everything you knew about him. Pieces of information came back to you, certain yet careful so you won't get overwhelmed. Unlike life, your mind and body knew to treat you gently.

Hawks. His name was- No. Not Hawks. That was his hero name. His persona. His name was Keigo. He was Keigo Takami. Your boyfriend. You recently moved in with him. He took care of you. He loved you. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

The feeling escaped you now. No matter how much you repeated the claim in your head. Frustratingly, tragically, far out of your reach. Regardless, the fact remained. Your current state didn't change anything. You took reassurance in that, at the very least.

Everything was so incredibly hazy yet perfectly clear at the same time.

You must've shut down and rebooted slowly to not short circuit again. It certainly felt like that was the case. One second, you were watching a movie with Keigo, comfortably snuggled close to him. The next, your vision went dark. With a blink, it came back and you looked to the man sitting beside you, not quite feeling like yourself anymore.

Maybe I'm not human, you mused emptily. Maybe I tricked myself and everyone around me into thinking I was.

He'd understand, won't he? Yes, rang in your head. He was always so understanding. Even when you didn't make sense. Even when your mind was a tangled mess of overwhelming emotions. Even when you acted crazy.

He was so good at deciphering you, so good at detangling your messy thoughts and feelings into neatness, so good at making you feel sane and normal or matching your crazy so you wouldn't feel as much of an awful person. You sometimes thought you didn't deserve him.

You stared at him. He stared back, his eyes soft and gentle and kind. Did you look as dull and empty to him as you suddenly felt? Probably. You didn't try hiding it. You didn't want to be a burden, but you also wanted to lay yourself bare to him. You knew he wanted that, too.

He had begged you to let yourself be vulnerable around him one day. You gave in, because how could you say no to him? But only on the condition he did the same for you. Your partnership with him was a two-way street and you wouldn't stand for anything less. You'd be personally offended if he wasn't vulnerable with you, if he purposely hid those parts for ‘your sake’, when you did your best to be good to him.

He didn't hide his worry. You saw it on his handsome features, sensed it in the slow, careful way he lifted his hand to your face. Like, you'd get easily spooked. But you weren't on edge. You didn't feel nervous or scared or anxious. You softly acknowledged that you were safe in your shared home, with him right beside you. So, why was he…?

Oh. That's right. You were his bunny. His cute, little, soft bunny. That's what he always told you when he was in a mean, teasing mood.

The more illicit aspects of the nickname came to mind as he caressed your cheek. Maybe he was trying to bring you back? You wanted that. You wanted to feel something. It wasn't just a lack of love. You were a blank slate trying to remember who you were. Emotions weren't part of that equation.

You half focused on his warm touch as you recalled the first time he called you 'Bunny'. It was during sex. His touch had been searingly hot while grabbing at your body as he pleased, his gaze predatory while he looked down on you, cocky smirk in place. He had murmured the name in your ear, breathless and teasing. Your guess was that he figured hawks enjoyed eating bunnies. You had definitely felt devoured by him in that moment.

“Everything okay, Dove?” Oh, yeah. He also called you Dove and Babybird and Birdie and- There were too many things he called you but his preference for giving you animal-like nicknames was not lost on you.

A slow, robotic blink.

Lips twitching into a concerned frown.

You contemplated on how to answer despite the question being an easy 'yes' or 'no'. It didn't feel easy in your head. Yes, I'm okay. I'm not overwhelmed. I'm not hurt. That probably won't fly with him.

“No.” You answered honestly, voice almost timid. Something was still clearly wrong. You were lost in a surreal daze, where you didn't quite feel like a person. Like, you had taken over someone else's body. Everything else felt… tangible. Real. You were the only thing out of place.

He removed his hand from your skin, hovering an inch away. “Touch?” He watched your expression carefully for any hint of you not wanting his hands on you.

You thought about it briefly. “Yes.” There were times when just the thought of being touched made you uncomfortable, but this was not one of them. You felt a certain indifference about receiving physical contact, but you thought that maybe his hands would help you feel more human. Although, you did wonder if a parasite deserved such a thing.

As soon as you gave verbal consent, he slid your glasses off and set them on the bedside drawer at his side of the bed. He cupped your cheeks with both hands immediately after, pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. You closed your eyes. Warm. He was warm.

You slowly moved onto his lap when he pulled his lips away, chasing after that warmth of his. He wrapped his arms around you as you rested your chin on his shoulder, his breaths lightly fanning into your hair. He rubbed your back with strong, soothing hands. You closed your eyes again, gradually melting into him.

“Tell me what's wrong.” He murmured in your ear, hands tentatively sliding under your shirt and up your back. It almost sounded like a question. You melted further at the skin contact. His touch became less hesitant.

“I feel… weird. Everything feels off.”

“C'mon, Angel.” His voice softly coaxed you to give him a better answer. He wanted to help you properly.

He leaned back against the headboard, gently forcing you to pull away. You sat upright, watching large crimson wings shift behind him. You presumed so he'd be more comfortable.

“I'm not real.” Your eyes shifted from bold red to that golden honey. His eyes looked back at you seriously.

“Babe-”

“You asked.” There was no bite to your tone. It was soft. Monotone. Factual.

He moved from his relaxed position and rested his forehead against yours. You both ignored the soft laughter coming from the TV. The movie still played. He cupped your face once more. “You're real.”

“No... I'm not- I'm not a real person.” Granted, the surreal factor to your perception was starting to fade. Maybe his hands really were the remedy. Or maybe it was him getting you to talk. Either way, as per usual, he was helping. He was so effortless. “This isn't my body. It's not mine. I'm not real. I just want to be real.”

“You are real, Dove.” He insisted softly, ever so patient with you. You felt his breath on your lips, warming your face with each calm exhale. You wanted to believe him. You were starting to. He would never lie to you so there was no reason you shouldn't.

“Baby, it's all in your head.” His voice was so gentle, so certain, soothing you back to a stable reality. All in my head… You hadn't considered that. Not in the way he meant it. Your brain still felt too hazed to think too deeply of anything.

“See these hands?” He took your hands in his, placing little kisses on the knuckles. “They're yours and they look pretty real to me.” He kissed your palms next, his lips soft and warm. “They feel real.” You felt him grin suddenly against your skin before his tongue made an appearance.

You snatched your hands back while he chuckled lightly. “They taste real.” He licked his upper lip. You wiped your hand down his bare chest in response. He had a habit of going to bed shirtless, something you didn't mind at all.

He rested his hand on top of yours, moving it over to his beating heart. It was steady, slow. The other reached for your face, thumbing at the skin under your eye. “Am I real?”

“Yes.”

He moved your hand to your own chest, palm pressed over cotton fabric where you could feel your heart. “Do you feel that?” You nodded silently. “That's your heart.” He pecked your cheek while hooking his finger to the neckline of your shirt and tugging it off your shoulder. He kissed the skin there next. “This is your body.” He murmured against you, hands returning to massaging your back.

He continued to press affirmations to your skin, focusing on your face, neck, and shoulders, until you fully believed him. He ended with a loving kiss to your lips. He lingered, enjoying the feel of your lips brushing together with his.

He pulled away, citrine eyes gazing at you with pure love and adoration. “Let's get some sleep, yeah?”

You nodded. It was late, past midnight. You hadn't felt tired enough to sleep earlier but now it crept up to you. You settled yourself on your side of the bed as he sent feathers to flick the TV and bedside lamps off.

Darkness instantly took over the room but it was comfortable. You listened to the nighttime city sounds drifting in through open windows. The song of crickets, the occasional car whizzing by, an aircraft whooshing through the sky. It became white noise, along with his quiet breathing.

“Keigo?” You reached out, hand searching for his own. You clasped on when you found it.

“Yeah, Dove?” He slid his palm against yours, interlocking your and his fingers between each other.

“I love you. Even when I'm not myself.” You meant to thank him but he’d probably brush it off and say it was what good boyfriends do.

He gently pulled you close, both an arm and a wing draping over you. You melted into his embrace. “I love you more.” You felt a soft pressure on the top of your head, his lips lingering. You didn't have it in you to scoff and argue that you loved him more. Not tonight. Tonight, you accepted his affections in silence before finally drifting off to sleep.

[gugapuppy]

Abortion - Part 5 (A!Ghost x O!Soap)

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6

═══════════════════════════

Well, is cruel to give him false hope?

CW: Implied infertility

═══════════════════════════

Staring at the setting sun, with the orange light shining in his eyes and the muggy wind passing through the fabric of his clothes, Ghost was quiet.

Since the tests had been carried out, he still hadn't received a reply, that was six days ago. 

And that was probably what terrified him the most, if it's taking so long, what does it mean? But Farah's soldiers get hurt, they're a priority and not a bunch of sperm that may or may not be fertile, and define the relationship between the alpha and his omega!

Ghost didn't notice when he started fiddling with a loose thread of his clothing, but he did notice when light footsteps approached from behind, and with a glance over his shoulder he could see Farah approaching.

"Lieutenant! Your tests are ready, they asked me to warn you." Farah approached with a serious tone, patting Ghost on the shoulder before turning and starting towards the medical wing, with Ghost following in silence.

The walk was quick, and when they arrived, Farah knocked on the door and entered, Ghost right behind her.

A doctor soon came in with a sealed letter with the test results, handing it to Ghost. Farah and he sat down on one of the chairs in a secluded corner of the ward.

Ghost's hands clenched the paper in his hand, doubts, murmurs, all the insecurities flooding into his mind.

And if he's infertile, who did Johnny cheat on him with? He'll be alone again. But what if he isn't? Did he hurt Johnny for nothing? Did he run away and ignore him for nothing? Were the tears he cried in his cold bed alone for nothing?

A firm hand on his shoulder woke Simon from his thoughts, he hadn't realised his breathing was ragged, nor the almost crumpled paper in his hands.

With a deep breath, Simon slowly opened the paper, and with each line read and percentage seen, his heart pounded, until everything stopped for a moment, blood running cold and sweat threatening to fall.

Written in bold letters was, ‘This individual has normal fertility, no abnormalities present’.

Slowly Simon's vision blurred, tear drops falling onto the paper. Farah stood next to him, hugging him and shaking him from side to side calmly.

All the bad things he's done to Johnny, to his baby, he's become his own father, a horrible person. How can he apologise? How can he receive forgiveness? Simon wants to curl up in himself and just wake up to the day that everything has fallen apart.

Out of the blue, the realisation that he's going to be a father hits him hard, bringing more tears, but now of happiness at the knowledge that he'll have a baby to watch grow up.

"I'm going to be a father." He whispered.

Farah gently released him, looking him in the eye. "You will, congratulations Lieutenant."

"What do I do now?" Ghost asked, frustrated and worried.

"First," Farah grabbed Ghost's hand and gave it a squeeze. "You apologise to him, I know it can be difficult, so try writing a letter, sometimes the truest words are the most comforting and helpful."

Ghost then gets up and walks towards his room, saying a final goodbye to Farah.

He needs to be as sincere as possible, and he hopes that maybe Johnny can forgive him, and that they can have this pup.

Simon hopes that he can have a family that loves him and that he can love. Not like his was.

═══════════════════════════

Naturally, when I was researching fertility test results, I kind of understood that you get a percentage of how your sperm is doing, so I don't know if it says you're infertile or not.

Remember that I'm not a doctor, so please correct me if I'm wrong.

Thank you to the readers, and I'll see you in the next chapter of Soap!

[voidpacifist]

I have a new brainworm about steve harrington that I need (NEED!!) to share

imagine this for me: it's 1983. nothing eventful happens, at least in the supernatural sense. steve and nancy still date, he still drops his terrible friends when he realizes they're not gonna support him if it doesn't fit their agenda, he still accidentally becomes close to a bunch of seventh graders when nance asks him if he can babysit--

(not that he'd ever say no to her, but it's not what he envisioned the summer of '84 to be like, okay?)

--and overall, things are relatively normal for him. his parents continue to be absent, but they still get excited for him when they learn he has a girlfriend or won a new award at the end of the school year for something sporty or what have you. they're not bad people, they just don't know how to be good parents. and they're always, always away.

but the thing about 1983, is that his final interaction with tommy before he "broke up" their friendship by dating someone kind and sweet and "perfect" like nancy, was him getting absolutely wailed on. enough that he went to the hospital with a severe concussion and some damage to his optic nerve. the doctors told him he already has something going on with his vision to begin with, probably a genetic disease passed down from one of his folks, that increase his chances of going blind earlier in life. meaning, if push came to shove, his vision could go entirely if he got into any more scruples with ex-friends or people who just generally disliked him.

and then lucas sinclair asks him for dating advice, because he likes max mayfield, the new girl in his class, and ultimately it lands steve being the chauffeur for their first date just days after halloween in 1984. by now, he and nancy have broken up — they weren't emotionally available in the ways they needed to be with one another, and steve knows his dream of the future is different from her own. this time, there's no speech about bullshit or faking it. they simply both know that their expiration is upon them and call it quits.

(it still hurts, but he told lucas to shoot his shot, because if there's anything he's learned by dating nancy wheeler, it's that projecting his heartbreak and hurt onto others is a gateway to toxicity in the water; and by god he is not sabotaging this kids emotional maturity, okay? okay)

so he takes the kids to bennys burgers, because lucas insists it's "cool enough" for this girl, and he doesn't want to overdo it by going somewhere too fancy. but when steve returns to pick them up, there's a hiccup in the plan.

billy, maxs step-brother and steve's most recent bother at school, is there, gearing up to try and scare lucas off, or do something worse. steve, anointed babysitter and generally protective friend, steps in without hesitation. the fight that results makes the local news. steve lands in the hospital again.

his vision doesn't go completely, but it goes enough. enough that he can't drive, enough that he'll have to find large print books or simply relearn to read altogether in braille. enough that he's advised to get a cane or a guide dog. enough that, when all is said and done, his old life has been completely upended.

jonathan--

(the same jonathan who has now swept nancy off her feet the way steve used to)

--surprisingly, is the one who ends up getting close to steve after this. he tells steve about what it was like when will was found after being missing for a week, about how he knows it isn't the same, but that he relates to the feeling of oh god, everythings different and nothing I used to have is coming back. he doesn't divulge on the details, but steve knows he's serious about understanding the feeling.

even more surprising is nancy, who commands him every day that god dammit steve, your life is not coming back unless you take it back yourself and then reassures him in the same breath that he's not weak for needing help doing so.

and then the kids join in too. and steve harrington isnt a king anymore of anything, but he's the king of his own life, he's the king of himself. he starts going back to school even when he feels embarrassed to be there, like he's an imposter or ill equipped. he starts going to public places just to meet poorly concealed whispers with something friendly and witty in return. he starts taking his power back in a way that never needs to hurt anyone, that never needs to hurt himself.

he also discovers he loves bright colors — neons and pinks and reds especially. he takes a trip with nancy and barb one day to indy on some sort of girls trip (they've long since made up since the first house party, and barb latches onto steve as a best friend shockingly fast in the wake of his and tommy's split), and it's there that he meets someone punk for the first time. he develops a fixation on the colored hair, the leather and spikes and denim with safety pins in it. he badgers the girls about teaching him how to wear eyeliner.

it's his gateway into punk style, which is then a further path into the subculture itself, into colored laces and battle vests and the politics and social aspects. steve takes to it like a fish to water.

the name steve harrington used to mean something entirely different. even though he calls his parents every day since the incident, even though they've been back to see him multiple times, even though they've tried to be present in their strange, semi-absent way, they still haven't seen him since his transformation from local jock to local punk.

needless to say, he spends a lot more time educating them about his "waywardness" and a lot less time actually excitedly telling them about the next color of his hair. but the harringtons aren't unaware — they can see how while this may be a creative way for steve to begin expressing and discovering himself, it's also an armor. no one really wants to fuck with someone who will trip you with his cane if you're being an asshole, someone who wears a lot of spikes and other sharp objects on their body for fun.

so they let it be. and they stay a little longer, this time.

this shift doesn't go unnoticed by the local gossips, but it also doesn't go unnoticed by the "freaks and geeks" at school. he develops, quite by accident, a reputation that rivals that of the king of freaks at hawkins. eddie munson wears the title proudly, clings to it with every antic and every quip that feeds into the rumors about him. but he respects what it took for steve to get here.

so he invites him along to a hellfire session. which turns into two. which turns into steve becoming a party member, which turns into him excitedly telling the kids he babysits that he gets it now, that yes, they can absolutely host their games at his house as long as they have rides back home.

but as he and eddie get closer as friends, eddie notices that as well as steve has done accepting himself as he is, he still misses the things he used to do without thinking much about needing sight to do it. contact sports and movies and other very visually inclined things. and listen, eddie's happy that steve has renounced the toxic social scene of jockdom, he really is, but he also recognizes a guy who misses pieces of his old life.

(he finds himself missing his old life, the life before wayne, all the time, just for the parts that didn't hurt him)

so eddie, much to steves surprise, suggests he try joining the swim team for the final quarter of his senior year. and hey, fuck it, what can it hurt? he's already a nerd now as well as a punk as well as disabled — he can go for one more oddball, not-quite-jock occupation. the coach has several stipulations, all of which steve takes in stride.

he's granted a tryout. he doesn't make it on.

eddie, in his wildest nightmares, doesn't touch sports. he's already athletic in other regards, naturally good at sprinting and lifting heavy things from taking equipment to and from band practice. he doesn't think he actually needs sports, but he's willing to go with steve to lake jordan to keep practicing. he's seen how stubborn harrington is, and he's not about to stop it.

eventually, they do these laps across the lake and back (it's a pretty small lake) just to get high once they're done. and fuck, if steve can swim the length of the lake, he can get a job at the new starcourt mall. and he does. he's there at scoops ahoy the bare minimum of hours they're required to give him to technically say he's employed, but at least he has work. his friends visit him there after their own jobs are done for the day, and eddie consistently shows up just to bug him.

robin, his coworker, is impressed and startled by this version of steve. she'd say she doesn't trust it, but there's nothing to trust really, about the shock of bright green hair or the way his eyes aren't actually that focused looking, or about the way he casually tells stories about getting high and swimming the length of lake jordan. not to mention, the chemistry he can't physically or metaphorically see between him and eddie is laughable to her, and entirely too obvious.

she ends up with one bad trip from the wrong dealer, and steve stays with her through the comedown, and she realizes she would probably die for him, because he sits there and listens to her buzzed ramble about tammy thompson and his bagel crumbs and other dumb shit from when he was still in high school. he's the first person she's ever come out to, and she's the first person he's ever thought could be a soulmate, the kind he'd never give his body but would marry in a heartbeat if she asked him.

he tells her about billy. she tells him about her mother. they tell each other a lot of secrets, more than he's ever told jonathan and nancy, or barb, or even eddie.

and then their workplace gets set on fire from a gas leak after hours. they pack up and go to family video, because they're a package deal. it's barb being on the crew that convinces keith to let steve take the job, and he has a new shtick joking about being a blind guy who likes movies.

then eddie probably takes him to one or two or maybe five. then they maybe make out after one of their swims. then steve starts going to eddies shows at the hideout, starts going with him damn near everywhere, and this was the kind of companionship he needed from the get go but didn't have. the kind where they support each other's interests without changing themselves for it, the kind where there is love born from fierce and unwavering friendship, the kind where loyalty is unquestionable but agreeing all the time is optional. and god.

steve harrington has been blind for a year. and he wears metal in his face and color in his hair. and he and his friends gather for movies just for the enjoyment of it. and he swims the lakes of hawkins with his boyfriend. and he plays dungeons and dragons with the kids who haven't let go of him just yet. and his parents aren't who he needs them to be yet, but they're trying. everyones trying. and eveyrone is enough.

and he's enough, at the end of the day.