#and half the reason I made him is cause I was so sick of seeing characters that fumbled the ball or turned out completely different

[captain-bubble-wrap]

I WANT MORE SICK QUINN PLEASE

Okay, babes! More sick Quinn it is!

"Oh baby, you look awful."

"Good morning, to you, too," Quinn answered, his eyes half open. His voice sounded like he was talking with his nose pinched closed. You knew when he went to bed last night he was getting sick; you had heard it through the phone. So, when you got the message this morning that he needed you to come over, you made a stop at the pharmacy before his apartment. And it was a good thing, too. 

He was on the sofa, legs pulled up to his chest with a blanket draped over his head and wrapped around him like a sick Halloween ghost. His colour was off; washed out and grey-like, and he was breathing out of his mouth with a rattle in his chest. 

"I'm sorry," you replied softly, removing your shoes and coat at the door. The lights were off when you had got in, but you didn't question it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I look: awful, apparently." 

Hurting his feelings wasn't what you had wanted to do, but it was too late for that now. "I shouldn't have said what I did. I didn't mean for it to--"

"It's fine." Quinn's tone was sharp and flat and he wasn't looking at you. Those two little words had stung, causing you to remain at the door longer than you should have, hesitant to go any further. After a moment, realizing that your words meant nothing and that he wasn't going to apologize either, you grabbed the two bags you had brought with you and walked into the kitchen. 

From across the island, you could see him sitting on the sofa, his head never moving to look over his shoulder at what you were doing. It was like you weren't even there. He was sensitive, you knew that, but this was the first time he had been so irritable. 

With the lights off and all of the floor-length curtains drawn, it was near impossible to do what you needed to by the light of the television in the other room. 

"May I turn the lights on?" You asked, hoping he wouldn't find a reason to get moody over a simple question. 

"Sure," he said, still just a flatly as before. Quinn pulled the blanket further over his head before slumping over onto his side, like he was trying to hide from the impending light. 

His apartment's lights were all on dimmers, so you made sure the kitchen one was on the lowest setting possible before flipping the switch. Light sensitivity: migraine, and the possible reason for his shitty mood. Hurrying, you unpacked everything that you had bought before shutting the light off. You remembered the range hood had a light and one that wouldn't affect him anymore than the tv he was in front of, but at least you would be able to see what you were doing. You looked back towards the sofa where Quinn was still wrapped up tight. Knowing you had to talk to him, you buried your pride, and went back to the living room. 

"Migraine?" You asked him, your free hand touching his shoulder through the blanket, rubbing his back gently. 

"Yeah." 

"Will you look at me, please?"

After what felt like the longest moment, Quinn revealed his face from his private blanket fort. "Why don't you sit up and take these? It will help with the headache. And I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean for it to come off like it did."

He didn't say anything at first as he forced himself back up. He would take the two pills and water from you and you would leave him alone. Back in the kitchen, you kept your back to him, your arms crossed. You had wanted to make things easy on him today, but now you wondered when he would tell you just to go. Things felt like they were spiraling faster than you could set them right. All just because of one poorly placed comment; one that you didn't mean to come off as serious. 

You were so deep in your own thoughts, you hadn't heard Quinn shuffle from the living room to where you were in the kitchen. His reaching out to touch your arm had startled you and he withdrew his fingers immediately. 

"Sorry," he mumbled, still draped with the blanket. 

You glanced at him for only a moment, "You're fine."

"I don't feel good," Quinn sighed, stepping forward a couple steps to stand right in front of you. He leaned forward to lay his head against your shoulder. He felt hot with fever, and you couldn't help but wrap your arms around him. 

"I know you don't, baby."

'I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"It's okay." 

Quinn leaned his entire body weight against you, like he was trying to find comfort in any way that he could. Your fingers would trail up and down his back until he decided to move. 

"Everything hurts," he confessed, his eyes pleading for an answer as to why he felt so bad. 

"Can you tell me what you're feeling?"

"Uh, the migraine. I can't breathe. My throat is sore. I'm coughing up green stuff. My body hurts so bad I could seriously cry. I'm cold yet I'm sweaty. I don't know what's going on with me."

His voice had never sounded so pathetic the whole time you had known him, and it hurt you to hear him struggling with so much. 

"Have you taken a Covid test yet?"

"No."

"It wouldn't hurt to take one."

"Okay," he whined, pulling himself from your body as you allowed your arms to fall away from his. "I don't know if I have any left."

"I grabbed some this morning," you remembered, looking through things to find the box. "Here."

Quinn tore open the kit. He fumbled with the contents before finally swabbing his nose and applying it to the test kit. Despite having been so close to you just moments ago, realizing that he could have Covid had made him stand a ways away from you. It didn't take long for the test to read positive, making his fears worse. 

"I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes falling closed with a sigh.

"Honey, it's fine. These things happen."

Quinn looked over at you, eyes heavy with guilt. "I probably just got you sick."

"I'm not worried about that," you reassured, your hand touching his cheek after closing the gap between you both. "I could use a few days off from work anyways."

"I didn't want you to get sick. I shouldn't have messaged you to come over."

"Shh, baby, baby, baby," you soothed. "I'll be okay."

He paused, "I've got to tell the team."

"Why don't you go get into bed, message Rick, and I'll deal with all of this stuff, okay?"

Quinn only nodded and slowly took off towards his bedroom. From the open door, you could hear Quinn on the phone, relaying the news of his positive test and that he would miss the next game slotted for tomorrow evening. The call didn't seem to last very long, and you'd enter the room after you were positive he was off the phone, so as not to interfere. 

"You didn't have to wait out there," Quinn spoke, once you joined him. "It wasn't anything that important."

"I know, but it wasn't my business," you smiled, sitting on the edge of the bed beside him. "Everything alright?"

"Yeah," he remarked, "Just have to do what I did before. He wants me to re-test in four days and go from there."

Reaching forward, you smoothed his wild curls and felt his forehead again making sure you hadn't imagined the fever. However, he was still quite warm to the touch. Quinn searched your face for reassurance before asking you anything.

"Is it bad?"

"Your fever? No, I don't think so. Hopefully it breaks soon, which should make you feel a lot better. Let me go get you some more water, okay?"

"Okay," he sighed, pulling the duvet up around himself with a bit of a struggle. 

"I just feel like shit," he said with a sigh, his congestion somehow sounding worse just before he had a sneezing fit. 

You weren't gone but a minute, but when you came back, he was looking at you like you had forgotten him for hours.

"What's wrong, Quinn?" You asked him, putting a few bottles down on his nightstand. 

"Oh, bless you, sweetheart."

"Ugh, I'm so over this." Quinn blew his nose before falling back into his pillows. 

You frowned, running your hand through his hair, standing beside his side of the bed. "I'm sure you are. I'm sorry."

"Would you lay down with me, babe? Since I've already probably given it to you..." He dropped off, feeling bad about asking you to come over.

Smiling, you leaned down to kiss his forehead one more time. "Of course. Do you need anything else before, though?"

"No," he said, pushing back the blankets to make it easier on you to find him beneath the layers. "Just you."

[fogwarden]

Piggybacking off this post to say that one of my absolute least favorite tropes both in canon and in "fanon" is taking a character that appears to (or does) fit into the above type described by OP and turning them into a confident fuckboy or having all their emotional barriers drop the minute their romantic interest indicates they might reciprocate feelings.

Nothing worse than seeing some self-deprecating never-says-his-genuine-feelings-out-loud bastard man suddenly become an extremely passionate smooth-talking lady-killer or a super genuine heartfelt empath or whatever. Let him half-jokingly flirt because he can't bring himself to do it genuinely! Let him allow the other person to be part of some mundane private ritual that nonetheless symbolizes a huge extending of trust on his part! Let him make a notable effort to stop self-deprecating so much because he knows it makes the other person feel bad! Let him be secretly overly sentimental and make excuses for why he keeps trinkets and memories from early in the relationship! Let him reflexively reach out for physical contact with them when asleep or relaxing or otherwise not paying attention as if he constantly seeks a tactile reminder of the other's presence!

Love is made of and found in a hundred thousand little things that mean just as much if not way more than the big dramatic declaration that the sopping wet bastard man wouldn't say unless at gunpoint!

once again opening a ship tag on AO3 and opening a dozen fics and closing out of almost all of them immediately because they would not fucking act like that

[catdia]

Sevika with a Chubby S/o pt.2

Sevika is a very jealous and prideful individual. she doesn’t take kindly to others that try to take you away from her

when Finn tried to get you close to him, she killed half his goons as a warning

teaches you basic self defense, how to use your body as an advantage in combat

ended with both of you making out on the practice mats

gave you a knife and handgun as a birthday present

all your clothing is automatically hers as well. loves wearing your shirts and hoodies when running errands

Sevika has MASSIVE hips, she doesn’t like them that much because pants never fit her waist right. but you love them!

and you also don’t like when pants highlight your underbelly. if she sees your belly in any capacity she’s grabbing that thing like a vice

uses your stuff before you ever get to. that new Piltovan skin care you got? Sevika gives it 10/10

eats all your snacks, even the healthy ones that taste “like cardboard”

the scar on her temple gets sensitive with the cold, uses your tummy as a heating pad when cuddling

one of Sevika’s love languages is bringing you fresh vegetables and fruit she smuggled from overseas

seeing your eyes sparkle in delight as you eat the sweet fruits makes her love her shitty job a little more

she got your nickname “peach” because of your love of fruit (and your fat ass)

if there is a place on earth that can be considered hell is when your periods sync up. Both in pain and grumpy.

when it’s just you, she gives you princess treatment (more than usual). even going as far as making homemade soup

i believe Sevika doesn’t get her period as frequently as she used to. mainly thanks to the amount of Shimmer she uses

Shimmer is the reason you almost had a terrible fall out. it was doing your woman more harm than good. making her extremely aggressive to the point where she threw and broke the matching clay mugs you gave her as an anniversary present. you spent almost two months making them

all of this because you threw away her last Shimmer supply. you just couldn’t she her like that anymore

you sobbed as you collected the pieces of the floor. so preciously putting them on your lap as she just watched in horror. Sevika had never seen you so broken. What had she done?

Sevika kneeled in front of you trying to make everything right. picking up little colorful shards of the floor. but you pushed her onto her feet. you pointed at the door.

“Get out…”

“Peach, please I—“

“Get the fuck out Sevika!”

she spend the next few weeks crashing in Silco’s office. drinking her sorrows away. while going cold turkey off Shimmer

remembering your soft cheeks stained with tears and trembling shoulders. she never had seen you so angry

once she had the courage (and by that I mean Silco and Jinx kicking her out for beign love sick) to come back home, she didn’t grasp how much she actually needed your love

it was a positive sign that you let her in. like a silent “prove me wrong”

you made her sleep on the couch for weeks. ignoring all Sevika’s attempts of affection. walking away when she got too close, not drinking the coffee she made for you in the mornings, covering your body quickly whenever she walked into the bathroom after your showers

Janna, did she miss having your body on hers. having you cuddle her to sleep. now she is stuck in this ratty couch. she missed how you moaned, what you tasted like. Sevika was unbelievably horny

but she needed to wait for you to make the first move out of respect for the pain she caused

when she was sleeping on the sofa you woke her up by grinding your cunt on her thigh. only wearing your night robe. open in the middle, nipples hard and belly creasing on your pelvis. you placed her mechanical arm on your temple. cradling her metal palm with your lips

“Fuck me like you mean it, ‘vika! Make me your woman again.”

Sevika saw the fire in your eyes, and the burn was a prize she was willing to take

you kissed each other hard, clawing at clothing and skin. teeth clashing. every touch was personal. sensual. like a withered plant in water

even if the sun never warmed the underground it didn’t matter to her. because the sun couldn’t ever bring her life like you did

Sevika had never made love before. only saw sex as carnal lust. but having you vulnerable in front of her and having given her forgiveness was the best gift she could have asked for. the gift of hope and chance. she touched you like a lover, a soulmate.

you laid naked on her chest, blissed out in pleasure. in the afterglow of sex. Sevika groping the flesh of your ass. as she blew cigarette smoke into the air. you were going to complain about the smell in the morning.

“I quit Shimmer.”

you smiled into her exposed skin. Sevika was a blunt woman, and you appreciated that part of her.

“Good.”

“Love you, doll.”

“Mmmm — me too Sevika.”

and you definitely made her go to one of those pottery couples classes to replace the mugs she broke

Sevika wasn’t getting off thaaattt easy

[aenramsden]

The following is not my idea; it was the original brainchild of a friend of mine named Omicron, with help from various others including EarthScorpion, TenfoldShields, @havocfett and ShintheNinja:

So, you know what I want to do one day? Run (or play in) a D&D campaign in which the Big Bad Super Dragon that is fuckoff ancient and unfathomably powerful and whose actions have shaped history and bent the course of nations and had repercussions on the whole culture and society in the region where it's set; the Bonus Special Boss for some endgame optional quest after you defeat the direct BBEG and win the campaign...

... is a white dragon.

To explain this for people not deep into 5e monster lore; D&D dragons are sapient beings, and known for their instincts and tendencies, and whenever you meet an big evil dragon that's really old it's usually this ancient creature of terrible intellect Smaug-ing it up all over the place.

Except white dragons are fucking stupid. Like, they're still capable of speech and thought! They're just… feral, hungry morons. And you almost never see them portrayed as ancient wyrms for that reason; they lack majesty. Critical Role did it, yes, but even then, Vorugal is explicitly the most bestial member of the Chroma Conclave, and the others are the more intelligent planners and long-term threats. An ancient white as a nation-defining endboss, though; not a thug for a smarter master but as the strongest and biggest threat around is just not the sort of thing you tend to see.

Adventurers: "Oh wise Therunax the Munificent, gold dragon of Law and Good, what can you tell us adventurers of the evil dragons which rule this land?" Therunax the Munificent, 500-year old Gold Dragon: "Good adventurers, know this: this land is torn apart by the evil of Tiamat's spawn. The eastern marches are the dwelling of Furinar the Plague-Bringer, black dragoness whose hoard is a thousand sicknesses contained in the body of her tributes. The southern volcanic mountains are the roosting of Angrar the Wrathful, the fiery red dragon, who brings magmatic fury on all who do not worship him. And the northern peaks are home to Face-Biter Mike, the oldest and most powerful of all, of whom I dread to speak." Adventurers: "F-Face-Biter Mike???" Therunax: "Oh yes, verily indeed; two thousand years has Mike lived, and his eyes have seen the rise and fall of five empires, and a hundred and score champions have sought to slay him; and each and every one he bit their fucking face off."

Like... I want to see a campaign where Face-Biter Mike is genuinely the most powerful dragon in the region, if not the entire world. Where sometimes he descends on a city to grab himself some meatsicles and causes a localised ice age by the beat of his vast wings and the frigid wastes of his mighty breath and by the chill his mere presence brings to everything for miles around him, and everyone just has to deal with that for the next decade. An entire era of civilization comes to an end, an empire falls, tens of thousands starve in the winter, all because Mike wanted a snack. Where his hoard is an unfathomably vast mass of jewels and artefacts and precious stones frozen in an unmelting glacier, except he is a nouveau riche idiot with fuckall appraising skill, so half of his hoard is coloured glass or worthless knicknacks, and he doesn't give a shit.

"Your Draconic Majesty, this crown is… It's pyrite." "Yeah, well, it's brighter than this dusty old thing made out of real gold, it's my new best treasure. Throw the other one away." "…throw the Burnished Tiara of Bahamut, forged in the First Age of Man, your majesty???" "See? I can't even remember its fucking name." "But my lord-" "DO YOU WANT TO BE A MEATSICLE" "…I will fetch a trash bag, your majesty."

But at the same time, he's not stupid, he's just simple, and in some ways that makes him more dangerous than the usual kinds of scheming Big Bad you see in these things, while simultaneously justifying why Orcus remains on his throne (because he's lazy). Face-Biter Mike doesn't make convoluted plans or run labyrinthine schemes; he just has a talent for violence and a pragmatic, straightforward approach to turning any kind of problem he struggles with into a problem that can be resolved with violence. Face-Biter Mike has one talent and it's horrifying physical power, so his approach to any complicated problem is "how do I turn this into a situation where I can fly down and bite this dude's face off?" with absolutely no regard for the collateral damage or consequences of doing so, because those are also things he can turn into face-bitable problems.

"My lord, the dread necromancer Nikodemion is using his undead dragons to attempt a conquest of the eastern kingdom; his agents are everywhere, his plans are centuries in the making, what can we do against such a mastermind?" "I'm gonna fly over the capital and eat the eastern king." "M-my lord???" "The kingdom will collapse without leadership, Nikodemion will win his war, he'll take the capital and crown himself king." "And that helps us… how?" "Once he does I'll fly over to the capital and eat him." "…" "This is why you advisors all suck. You're all about convoluted plans when the only thing I need to win is know where my enemy is so I can fly down there and eat him. Stop overthinking things."

And, like, yeah, it's a simplistic plan, but when you're several hundred tons of nigh invincible magical death, you don't need brilliant strategy; the smartest way to win a war is, in this case, the simplest. He's not even all that clever at figuring out the consequences of face-biting, he's just memorised the common consequences of doing so.

(If you want to go all in on Mike being the major mover and shaker in the region; Nikodemion only even has a pet zombie dragon because Mike killed the last dragon to show up and contest his turf but wasn't going to eat a whole dragon by himself. Nikodemion got to stick around and amass that much power because Mike ate the Hero of the Realm while he was adventuring because he figured the Hero would come and try to slay him at some point. Nikodemion got started because Mike ate half the leadership of the Academy of High Magic who typically keep evil wizards and necromancers in check. And then eventually this product of Mike's casual, careless actions becomes a big enough problem to bother Mike personally, at which point Mike eats him too.)

He doesn't even really fail upwards, either! He is regularly reduced to nothing but the glacier he stores his hoard in, but he's Face-Biter Mike so nobody wants to commit to actually ending him forever lest they get their faces bitten the fuck off. And his hoard's in a huge-ass magical glacier so nobody can get to it without running into the Invading Russia problem; it's hard to wage war when everything is frozen over and you're both starving and freezing to death. Once he's been beaten back to his central lair and has lost all his holdings… I mean, he's still a problem, but he's a far away problem. So he loses his assets and spends a decade in a cave brooding it up while no one dares risk trying to actually kill him, and then a generation or two later he flies down to a kobold colony and gets himself some minions, or a dragon-worshipping mage comes to offer his service against a pittance from his hoard, or a particularly stupid cult starts thinking they can get in good with him and leech off his power, and then he's (hah) snowballing again.

He's also got a very… well, the kind of weird Charisma that Grineer bosses do. Like Sargas Ruk, who's a malformed idiot, but oddly charismatic. As he's a dragon, that makes him a natural sorcerer and thus Charisma is all he needs. He's pretty relaxed when he isn't in a face-biting mood, and he's kind of infectiously optimistic, because his life has taught him that he will succeed as long as he perseveres. So he just believes it.

And sometimes that's really refreshing to work for, as an evil minion of darkness! It's like, you're coming to your Evil Dragon Lord with terrible news; you've worked for evil overlords before, you know how it goes. You fall to your knees weeping and tell him that you've failed to seize the incredibly powerful magical artifact, you think your life is forfeit. And he's just like "Eh, it's okay, these things are all over the place. Better luck next time. You remember the guy who took it, right?" and you go "Y-yes, oh great lord!" and he's like "Sweet tell me his name later and I'll grab it" and then eats a frozen adventurer he kept around as a snack.

His followers tend to quickly realise that if they fail him, bringing some temple's silver or a sack of brightly coloured beads or a couple of dead cows means he's super forgiving because at least he's got something out of the day. "Oh boy, cows? It's been forever since I had those, ever since the Orc Steppe Nomads took over it's all about goats and onions. Today is a good day." He's a master of delegation by dragon standards, in that he just tells you "Just go get it done, I don't care how" rather than micromanaging you and constantly appearing as an image in smoke or taking over your campfire.

The key part of Face-Biter Mike as a threat to players (because he exists in the context of a D&D campaign) works well in that you can rely on several known quantities:

He will not pull sneaky shit that you don't see coming

He will not make convoluted plans that you must work to unravel

He will consistently attempt to come down and wreck you personally if he finds the opportunity and you are a threat to him

You cannot fight him head-on (at least not until the last leg of the campaign, and ideally as an optional boss rather than mandatory)

So as long as you are good at staying under the radar, thwarting his minions (whom he gives broad orders to with almost zero oversight) and not putting yourself in face-biting range, you can deal with him. If you succeed, it won't be the first time Mike has lost his assets and had to go brood in his glacier for a decade or two before rebuilding. It happens; he can deal with it. And that's a win for you within the context of a single campaign, so take the win.

And if you're not going to use him as an enemy, he works pretty well as a quest-giver, too! The costs for failure are obvious and straightforward, and "do whatever, just get me mine" means that players have a lot of freedom in accomplishing their goals. As far as evil overlords go he is actually one of the least dangerous to work for; his pride is relatively subdued by draconic standards, his goals are simple and typically achievable, and he is easily pleased.

(There's also a good chance he is the forefather of any draconic sorcerer in your party, because Face Biter Mike is a deadbeat dad.)

[shadowcitrine]

If you do That Again--

DarlyxReader 912 words

Warnings: Some language.

Timeline: Not important, season 1-ish

Summary: Daryl is tired of listening to you blowing hair out of your face.

Darly stopped dead in his tracks, his jaw tightening as he glared over his shoulder. “Do tha’ one more time…” His tone is low and threatening, clearly irritated, but there wasn't a reason for it. 

Passing on his left you asked, “What crawled up your ass and died, Dixon?” 

Daryl chewed on the words brewing behind his teeth and marched forward. Why he was pissed off this time was a mystery. Up until now every single one of his demands to be out here with him had been followed to the letter. You'd kept quiet, stayed right on his heels and avoided every single stick you two had come across for at least the last half mile, which for you was a considerable win.

If you'd known he was going to be such an ass you wouldn't have asked to come. With the way he's been acting all day it would have been better to be bored sitting back at camp than deal with the king of grumpy walking buddies. What was worse is his foul mood was starting to rub off on you. Blowing a puff of air upwards you followed the lock of hair flying out of your field of view.

Daryl stopped again this time spinning on his heel. Eyes hard and narrowed, jaw jutting forward he seemed to be sizing you up. The last thing you wanted on this hell hike was to argue but you could see it brewing, unsaid words threatening to burst forward.

“What now?!” You snapped. Quick soured jerks of his head made you feel uneasy, doubly so when his hand went to rest on his knife hilt. The group had warned you about his temper but you'd overlooked that because he was kind of cute when he frowned. 

“All damn day!” He sneered. When you furled your eyebrows in confusion he puffed out his cheeks puffing little breaths between pursed lips. “Fuckin’ sick a’ it!”

“Oh! I'm sorry that the apocalypse didn't come with a thirty pack of elastic hair ties! I can't help the fact that I need to see!”

Daryl shook his head again, fist clenching around the hilt of the blade as he began pulling it out. “Come ‘ere.” He was going to butcher your hair, hack it off just because he was having a shitty day!

“No!” taking a step back away from him you gaped. “I'm gonna let you cut off all my hair!” 

“Ain't cuttin’ your damn hair! Come ‘ere!” he hooked a finger at you. “Gonna stop this shit ‘fore you drive me outta my damn mind.” Daryl is many things but a liar isn't one of then. Taking a cautious step forward ge tucked the blade between his teeth and pulled some string from his pocket. “Tur’ roun’.” 

A tiny gasp left your lips a smile tugging at the corners. “Are you going to do my hair?”

He took the blade from his lips, not an ounce of joy to be read. “Turn ‘round ‘fore I change my mind and saw it off your thick head.” He shoved the string at you. “Hold tha’.” When you didn't move right away he tucked the blade back between his teeth and grabbed your shoulder to spin you around.

He was actually going to do this. No longer facing him you didn't try to tamp down the nerves making goose flesh spreading down your arms. Expecting rough movements for a quick ponytail you were confused when he started sectioning your hair gently freeing tangles from it as he went. 

“Ow!” a sharp pinch at your scalp made you wince.

“Sto’.” The fat syllable sounded wrong in his mouth but you obeyed. He was deft but through fingertips massaging away the sharp pulls of tangles. You hair pulled tight at the back of your head, his actions pulling it backwards causing a strain to keep it upright for a moment. He reached over your shoulder, fingers snapping when you didn't hand him the red piece of dyed twine right away.

Handing it to him you asked, “What did you do to it? Can I see?”

He reached around and used two fingers to guide your face forward again. “Gonna fuck it up if you keep movin’.” Knuckles brushed your upper back, accidental but welcomed and you closed your eyes pretending not to hear the sound of something small snapping. “There! No more listenin’ to you huffin’ and puffin’ all damn day.” He moved away.

“How does it look?” you reached behind touching it, feeling your way down. He'd braided it. There was no stopping the grin that broke out as you pulled the tail over your shoulder to inspect his work. He'd tied off the end tightly finishing the red string with a tiny little bow. “Daryl!” 

“Ain't perfect but it'll hold. Keep it outta your-”

“It's so cute!” Suddenly seeing your inspection wasn't as important as the trees around him. You stepped around him bending to try and catch his eyes. “You even did a bow!” you held the end out for him to see.

“Stop!” the tops of cheeks were pink and while you could pretend it was from the heat you knew that wasn't it.

He started marching away and you ran ahead to try to make him look. “You made it all girly!” you teased. His cheeks were getting redder by the second.

“Stop!”

“Daryl Dixon braided my hair!” you sang out.

“Shut up woman!”

[ma-yawntu]

for you, anything.

pairing: neteyam x female!omatikaya!reader

summary: you're mad at Neteyam for some reason and he's determined to find out why

word count: 2.2k

warnings: mentions of injury and blood, mentions of parent death (father), fluffy, angst (sort of)

now playing... first love/late spring by mitski

Neteyam’s wound was angry and red, his skin raw with jagged cuts. Your skilled hands made quick work of his injuries, cleaning the area with fresh water to avoid infection, but despite your delicacy with his wounds; something was wrong. Neteyam could tell you were angry with him from the way you kept your lips drawn together instead of playfully lecturing him like you normally did. His ears were flat against his head as you worked, your eyes refusing to look up into his despite his obvious desperation for you to give him something– anything.

Neteyam wasn’t sure why you were angry with him, sitting there wracking his brain for possible causes of your turmoil. He knew you worried for him when he attended raids with his father and brother, but you worried for everyone. Unfortunately, it was in your nature to worry. Neteyam thought it was an admirable trait but you saw it was more of a curse.

For you, it was different with Neteyam. The two of you had been close since you were children, being born mere months apart meant you hit almost every milestone together. As children, the two of you were competitive, always pushing harder and harder to be better than the other… of course it was friendly competition. As you grew up though, you found yourself caring more and more about Neteyam as more than a friend. Of course you would never tell him– he was the Olo’eyktan’s son! Future clan leader of the Omatikaya and your best friend. You were absolutely dreaming if you thought anything could ever happen between the two of you.

That logical reasoning didn’t deter your feelings though, the heart unfortunately wants what it wants. Instead of facing the reality of your situation, you buried yourself in work. Work always needed to be done around High Camp. The Sky People closed in more and more every week and their war strategies were only getting bolder. 

You worked closely with Kiri and a few other healers under Mo’at, learning to tend to the sick and injured which only seemed to increase tenfold after every war party’s return. You wanted to be out fighting like everyone else– like Neteyam. But Jake would never allow it after you lost your father during a raid; he made Jake promise to never let you out in the field and that’s how you ended up stuck at High Camp working as a healer instead of where you were meant to be. 

“You are upset,” Neteyam mumbles after almost half an hour of uninterrupted silence as you run a damp cloth over his cuts and grazes. 

“I am not upset,” your tone alone was a dead giveaway that you were kind of upset. Neteyam’s ears flatten against his hair and he curls his lips inward, electing to give you some more time before he starts prying again. 

Your shoulders relaxed as your gaze flickered to his face. Neteyam was usually pretty unreadable; a product of his upbringing you assumed. Neteyam took after his mother in almost every way and that woman was terrifying, so it made sense. But you were always able to see through it, you’d grown up learning his tells and habits, you were sure you could understand him better than yourself most of the time. 

He seemed hurt by your short attitude with him; you weren’t even sure why you were mad in the first place, maybe it was because you were stressed and unintentionally taking it out on Neteyam. Or maybe it was because he got himself injured again and almost gave you a heart attack when Lo’ak and Jake had to carry him bleeding into the healer’s kelku because he was too injured to walk himself. It was likely a culmination of both things. 

Mo’at had originally dealt with him since you, Kiri and the other healers were busy tending to the several other injured warriors. But Mo’at was quickly called away, her expertise needed elsewhere and you were left to clean and stitch Neteyam’s body back together with shaky nervous hands.

You scooped up a heaping of Kiri’s yalna bark salve, applying the waxy substance to the jagged cut you had sewn shut along Neteyam’s chest. He winced at the slight sting, his brows knitting together at the feeling he would never get used to.

“Sorry,” you mutter, spreading the salve along the cut. You weren’t sure if you were apologising for your temper or for putting him in pain– possibly both. Now seeing his face and listening to him wince made your heart hurt and now you felt bad for being sort of mean to him. “I’m… I am not mad at you.”

Neteyam’s gaze lifts to yours and you give him a flicker of your eyes before you’re back to ignoring him and dressing his wounds. Your fingers work diligently to dress the wound but your movements quickly cease when Neteyam’s much larger hand wraps around your thin wrist. You stop what you’re doing and your eyes flicker up to meet him, falling victim to his intense golden eyes.

“Then what is wrong?” His voice is quiet, as if speaking at a normal volume would somehow scare you. 

You avert your eyes, a sigh rippling from your chest before you look at him again, heart drumming in your chest. “I was worried, that is all.”

“You always worry,” he doesn’t believe your answer but he is always gentle in his prying. 

“Then there is nothing more to say,” you retort, twisting your wrist out of his grip to get back to your work. 

Neteyam lets out a defeated sigh, “you know that is not how I meant it,” he cautions.

You know you’re being slightly unreasonable right now. But he simply doesn’t understand what it is like for you to see him like that; to see his limp body be dragged off his ikran, to see him covered in bruises, dirt and dried blood. It’s a horrifying sight to see, especially when it is someone you love and cherish. Yes, you love your best friend; you’re aware of the predicament.

You know that it won’t go anywhere. Sure, you can fight, heal and hold your own but you are nothing exceptional. There are far more pretty and talented Omatikaya women who are basically falling at Neteyam’s feet. You don’t stand a chance, you’re fully aware of that and you’ve tried to make your peace with it.

You almost feel like you have no right to worry over him the way you do. He is not yours and you are not his. You are forced to put on a brave face whenever you’re left to heal his wounds and act like it doesn’t twist your heart seeing him in pain.

You dress Neteyam’s wound and quickly move to gather your materials, completely disinterested in continuing your conversation. Your days at High Camp are never ending and at this point you’re beyond exhausted knowing you still have to clean the kelku top to bottom before you can even think about leaving.

“You need rest, no strenuous exercise or movements for at least a week or you’ll split your stitches,” you sigh, organising your materials back into their original places around the kelku. 

Neteyam’s eyes follow your body as you move around, still unconvinced by your behaviour and determined to get to the bottom of it before he leaves you alone for the night. He hates seeing you upset, it hurts him when he can’t fix things for you but it hurts even more you might be upset with him. 

Neteyam groans and winces as he stands up, his hand coming to clutch his side. You spin on your heel and let out a noise of frustration, “Neteyam, I’m serious.” You’re at his side in a second, your hands clutching his shoulder and arm to help him sit back down; he’s much heavier and taller than he was when the two of you dragged each other around as kids, you notice.

You allow him to get comfortable before you attempt to leave his side only for him to grab your arm, forcing you to stop. You peek over your shoulder and he looks so upset and your heart twists at the mere sight. 

“Talk to me,” Neteyam mutters, his eyes wide and pleading. 

You frown and sigh, relaxing in his grasp and letting him just hold your forearm for a moment. Your eyes meet his and you just crack under the overwhelming presence that is Neteyam. You feel tears welling up in your eyes, your jaw aching painfully as you attempt to hold back the flood that swirls around inside you. 

“Don’t cry,” Neteyam coos, using his other hand to pull you closer and wipe your tears with the rough pad of his thumb.

You sniffle and wipe your wet face with the back of your hand, eyes averting upward to will the tears to sink back down where they belong. You don’t know why you’re crying. You’re worried, angry, tired, frustrated; everything one person under immense pressure can feel.

Neteyam waits for you to calm down, his chest aching watching you heave and sniffle, your tears betraying you as they slip down your cheeks faster than he can catch them. His hands are holding yours, his thumbs stroking over the backs of your hands to help ground you. And he just watches you, afraid to take his eyes off you as if you’ll disappear. 

“I’m fine,” your voice comes out slightly broken and Neteyam just frowns.

“You’re crying,” Neteyam retorts.

You avert your eyes again. “Seriously, Neteyam. I’m just tired.”

“Please, sevin–”

“I worry about you!” You say rather loudly. Neteyam’s mouth presses closed and all he can do is wait with bated breath for you to continue. You sigh, eyes still glassy with tears, “I do not worry about you in the same way I worry about everyone else, Neteyam… You have to know that.”

He has to know how you feel by now, surely he is not that dense– then again, you’ve known him for a long time and he can be very dense (a trait courtesy of his father you assume). 

His brows are knitted together in a mixture of both confusion and worry as he stares at you, attempting to decipher what it is you’re trying to tell him. Neteyam has always felt something for you, how could he not? But he was so sure the two of you had grown apart because of your equally strenuous responsibilities. 

“When I watch you leave,” you start, your voice slightly shaking. “I just… I never know if you’re going to come back.”

Neteyam sighs, his hand reaching out to hold the side of your face, “I will always come back.”

“My father didn’t, Neteyam,” you reply, eyes falling shut as you will yourself to stop crying, knowing how much seeing you upset hurts Neteyam. Neteyam falters at your words and sighs sadly, his larger hand holding your jaw gently. Your lip quivers as you open your mouth to speak, another tear slipping down your cheek, “I… I cannot lose someone else, ‘Teyam.”

Neteyam feels his chest tighten at the sight of your sadness. “Sevin…”

“I cannot lose someone else that I love,” you whisper, your thumb stroking the back of Neteyam’s wrist. Your gaze finally meets his and your eyes are glossed with tears as the stress and anxiety pours out of you right in front of him. 

Neteyam’s heart pounds in his chest, he knows you love him, you’re his best friend. But you’ve never said it with such sincerity before. You’ve always been special to him, the only person who seemed to understand who Neteyam was outside of being the Olo’eyktan’s son. He’s always loved you, how could he not? But it was in this moment that he realised how desperate he was to keep you. 

Neteyam’s thumb strokes along your cheekbone and you let out a soft breath, completely drowning in the golden hues of his kind eyes. And without thinking, your body surges forward, your eyes falling shut as you plant your lips firmly against his. 

Your hands find purchase on the nape of his neck as you force his much taller frame down to meet you halfway. Neteyam’s free hand lands on the lower section of your ribs, his body stiff at the sudden contact. But the kiss is over as soon as it starts and you pull away, your face flushing and eyes blowing wide as you realise your actions.

“Shit,” you curse. “I’m… Neteyam, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

Neteyam is quick to shut you up when his hands reach out to cup your face and he kisses you again. His kiss is softer than yours, far more gentle than the awkward peck moments ago. He breathes hard against your lips between kisses, his body suddenly crippled with the urge to keep you close. 

Your smaller hand holds his cheek, careful to avoid the small cut along his cheekbone. You smile giddily against him and he pulls away to smile back at you, his thumb gently wiping away the last of your tears. 

“Now you really have to come back,” you whisper.

Neteyam smiles, “For you, anything.”

a/n: i know it's short but it's cute!!

[sleepyangelkami]

INDISPOSED d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 2.1K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - you always seem to feel more than upset when you're sick. luckily for you, dean's always by your side when you fall ill, no matter the time.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - sick!reader, illness symptoms, flu, dizziness, aches, reader's a little emotional, eating?, crying, mention of reader's lonely past, non-sexual nudity, kinda crybaby!reader, (1) use of y/n, slightly ooc dean, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

there's seemingly a tell tale sign of when you're feeling extra poorly, and that's the feeling of water beginning to pool in your waterline.

you couldn't help the dramatics that would take over your body, much less when you find dean sitting in your bedroom, assuring you that it was alright that he'd come home early from his hunt. "you shouldn't have to leave sam alone 'cause of me." you were a sniffling mess at your desk, for two reasons, one being that you were upset and the second being that your nose was so stuffed you could hardly breathe.

"sammy's fine to figure out the rest of this one, baby." dean was sitting on your bed, girly covers and throw pillows surrounding him. "and i don't have to do anything, i'm choosing to be here." dean's voice was all low and soft, the voice he used when you were upset which was seemingly more often than you'd thought.

you heard him shuffle across the room to where you sat on a brown, tattered chair.

he crouched down so he was eye level with you. "come on, sweetheart, you know you're just upset 'cause you feel all sick." his hand was gently tracing your thigh, soothing you from your sniffles. "think you just need to lay down, yeah?"

you mumbled something that he didn't quite catch with a nod.

he waited momentarily but you hadn't made any decision to move. "y/n." your eyes snapped up to meet his. "come lay down."

"okay." was your sheepish response.

dean didn't often call you by your name, he cast it away with all the lovely nicknames he'd picked out for you personally. nobody was baby but his car, until he'd met you. it came so easily, that soft way of loving.

when dean had you finally beneath the blankets, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, half-comforting and half-trying to gauge your temperature.

"where are you going?" your hand reached out for his lower arm.

dean turned down to look at you, a smile softly reaching his lips. "just getting your medication, baby, i'll be back, don't worry." and this time, the kiss pressed against your forehead was purely because he felt like it.

dean was well aware of your inability to take care of yourself. now, he was in no way calling you a nuisance, he just wished you cared for yourself as much as he did. with that being said, he did always love being able to care for you, it was a way that was so different than having to take care of sam his whole life. perhaps it was because this, he wasn't obliged to do, it wasn't expected of him.

he loved taking care of you but if anything were to happen to him... he'd like to know you could take care of yourself, too.

when dean returned to the bedroom, you were passed out asleep against the sheets. the man couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

you were a chatty person, awfully bubbly at times. and dean loved that about you, listening to you babble on about something and when he didn't catch a word he'd ask you to repeat what you said, it was always funny watching as the gears turned in your head, trying to remember.

sometimes you swore you talked so much that you tuned yourself out.

dean didn't though, he listened to every word that spilled from your lips.

but you were chatty with everyone you were close to. god forbid you ever went on a road trip with he and sam.

but with him you could be quiet at times, you still got shy and nervous around him which always made him coo, there was something sweet at the fact you could be so different behind closed doors, so yourself.

and seeing you like this, your lips drew into a pout and pink staining your ill cheeks, well it was rather nice, he thought.

he hated to be so evil as he was to wake you.

"sweetheart." the mere whisper of the name as his hands came down to soothe your arms was enough to have your eyelids peeling open. "sweetheart, c'mon, you gotta take your medicine."

a half-whine fell from your lips as he sat you up against the bed, sitting too so that you could lean yourself against him. dean was suddenly aware of how much hotter your body had gotten. he hadn't been gone long, just a trip to the kitchen to get you a glass of water and the medication he needed, though it'd taken him a while to find it. he had a bad habit of leaving things in strange places and forgetting about it.

he handed you off the capsules and then the glass of water.

"how're you feeling, honey?" the back of his palm pressed against your right cheek then slightly down your top, to your chest. he was like a concerned mother. "you're really hot."

"thanks." you quipped, leaning your hot forehead against his arm and sipping the water he'd given you.

he rolled his eyes at your remark, obviously taking your sickness more seriously than you were. "'m serious, you can't have blankets."

"dean!"

"no."

"dean, 'm cold." you nuzzled yourself further into dean's warm body, a dark grey hoodie coated his form along with black sweatpants, not his usual attire.

"you're not cold." he took your face between his two hands. "you're sick." pressing a kiss against the tip of your nose. you fought the words 'sap' to come from the back of your scratchy throat. "you can have the blankets but i have to take this off, then." you felt him gently pull at the shirt you'd stolen from him, clad on your body.

"deal." you mumbled, feeling a wave of dizziness hit you.

to make matters worse, you shook your head, thinking it would rid of the dizziness.

"hey, don't do that." he steadied your head before taking the glass out from your hands and placing it on the bedside dresser.

you felt his hands on your shirt, slowly pulling it from your frame. you helped by putting your arms in he air, allowing him to pull it off your body and toss it somewhere on the ground.

"want the tv on?" you nodded your head silently as the man rose from his place on the bed, reaching the tv stand where he picked up the remote and switched it on.

aimlessly, you uttered, "my legs hurt." while sliding back under the pretty covers.

he was busy fidgeting with the buttons on the remote. he never did know how to work your tv properly. "'s just cause your sick, it'll go away, baby."

you huffed at his response, laying your head on the pillows while you pulled the blanket close to you. you were cold but it was that sickly cold where you couldn't tell if it was really a chill or perhaps you were so warm that you felt cold, which didn't make a whole pile of sense.

when dean finally climbed back into the bed, your body practically collapsed on top of him.

he laid with an arm behind his neck and the other trailing shapes across your bare back, you lay with your head on his chest, listening to the low tv along with the thumping of his heart.

"are you okay?" you mumbled, voice slick with tiredness. the sickness was weird like that, hitting you suddenly, leaving just as immediately.

dean could have cooed at you. even while you were wrapped up in blankets, sick as a small hospital, you managed to ask him if he was okay.

It was another reason why he liked taking care of you. you took care of each other. "i'm okay."

another hushed mumble. "promise?"

"i promise." he answered honestly, fingers against your skin, moving up and down your back. "get some sleep, 'kay?"

a yawn passed your lips. "okay."

they said sleep was the best medicine, that it cured everything that was curable. well, you weren't sure anyone had said it to you but you just knew that it was said.

you had to beg to differ.

by dinnertime, your temperature was running hot.

earlier was the kind of sick that you could stomach, this was the kind of sick that had you flushed against the headboard of your bed, hands running down your face as you felt your head pound against the back of your eyes.

you could hear dean walk back into the room and you felt guilt soar through your veins.

you knew you were being... difficult to say the least. but you couldn't help it, hot tears gathering at your waterline all over again.

the mattress dipped as dean nudged your arm and you looked up at him with glossy eyes before looking down at the sandwich sitting on a plate in his hands.

"know you said you're not hungry but can you try eat some f'me? 's jam." his tone was all soft and his voice was all quiet. by now, he'd turned off the tv and closed the curtains, noticing how the light had been affecting your eyes. the only light on now was the little lamp sitting on your bedside table so you could actually see your surroundings.

you nodded hesitantly and took the sandwich from him.

dean noticed things about you like nobody else. he very early on found out that you loved jam sandwiches, you loved raspberry jam but you had an awful distaste for strawberry jam so from there on, he never bought strawberry jam on the offhand occurence that you may accidentally use it without looking at the label and get your jam sandwich ruined.

you were halfway through said sandwich when you placed it back on the plate, begging to tear up.

dean immediately took notice of it, taking the plate from you. "wh's wrong, baby? too much?"

you shook your head, sniffling. even the act of shaking your head had you clutching it soon after.

dean tutted, moving your hand away so he could soothe your forehead with a kiss and a gentle movement of his thumb. "poor girl." you heard him mutter under his breath, his brows strewn together in sympathy.

looking up at him, you had those glassy eyes that made his stomach feel almost as nauseous as yours. he didn't have to ask what was troubling you for you answered, anyway, to the silent question behind his eyes. "you're so nice to me."

his heart shattered a little.

it was no supirse that you didn't grow up with much comfort surrounding you and that only got worse as you began to get older. some days, you didn't think you'd ever get the comfort that your body ached for. and then dean winchester walked in, and his one and only goal was to take care of you, was to care for you, was to love you.

so you couldn't help tearing up a little from time to time when you think about the strawberry jam he gave up just for you.

"oh, baby. you're my sweet girl." he pulled you closer to him, putting your forehead against his chest so you could lean your weight on him. "'course 'm nice to you."

he helped you sit on his lap, fully discarding the place wherever his hands could push it to.

then his hands found your body, roaming it with this gentleness yet assertion. you'd put his shirt back on a while ago and discarded the blankets, which he was thankful for. he needed to break your temperature.

you weren't due medication for another two hours and you'd taken all the painkillers you could.

right now, all he could offer was himself.

and that was enough for you.

your arms tightened around his shoulders as you sniffled, tears breaking down your cheeks with a defeated sigh. "hate bein' sick." you uttered, sadness evident in your voice.

"i know, angel, i know." he gently rocked you in his lap, not enough to make your head dizzy but enough to bring you back to the moment, to remind you he was there.

and you stayed like that for seemingly a long time, melting into one another's embrace as if it were the most entertaining thing in the world.

you pressed your flush cheek against the hoodie covering his bare shoulder. the tears eventually dried up and all that was left was your frustrated sighs and mumbles.

"'s okay, sweetheart." he pressed a final kiss to your flushed face. "it'll pass."

and he was by your side as soon as it did.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[cjlouwho]

Prompt: Everyone knows that Tommy is a pushover for Buck's 🥺 eyes (it's a running joke for the 118/217), but when Tommy gets upset and is very quietly 🥺, Buck is shocked by how completely and utterly insane he goes to make Tommy feel better.

(bonus points if it's a completely dumb reason, like Tommy's run out of ice cream or something and it's just A Bad Day)

A little silly, a little serious, I hope you enjoy!

One of the many things Buck loved about his and Tommy's relationship is that he got to see a side of Tommy that no one else saw. He got to see many sides of Tommy that no one else saw, actually.

While everyone got a piece of calm, cool, and collected Thomas Kinard, Buck got all that and everything in between.

He saw him on his best days, his worst days, goofy days, sick days, horny days, tired days, all the days! He often thought of making a list of all the things people would be surprised to know about Tommy. He'd never share it, of course, but it'd be nice for him to have.

Like, how Tommy was ticklish only on his right side. And when he got tickled, he didn't do his normal laugh. Instead it was a high pitched giggle with a snort.

Or, how Tommy was super proud of the fact he knew every single word to We Didn't Start the Fire and he felt the need to sing it at the top of his lungs at least once a week.

How he loved human connection, but hated being touched by strangers. He'd hug a friend all night long if you needed it, but if he didn't know you please keep your hands to yourself.

How he liked tomatoes on cold sandwiches, but never on toasted ones.

How he loved when Buck would sit on the countertop and kiss him because it made him feel smaller, and he loved feeling small and protected in Evan's arms.

How his voice got deeper during sex. Whether he was inside Buck or Buck was inside him, his voice would always get all gravely and deep in a way that sent shivers down Buck's spine.

Maybe one of the biggest ones was how Tommy was not always the stoic, perfectly poised man as he presented himself to the world.

Tommy could get emotional. Emotional in a way that was usually reserved for movies written by men about women during their period.

Buck was thrown off by it the first time it happened. He almost thought it was a joke, until he saw the tears in Tommy's eyes as he mourned the fact he was out of whipped cream.

Then it was just heartbreaking.

It didn't happen often. A series of bad events throughout the day would build up in his body and brain until the smallest inconvenience caused him to fall apart.

They'd talked about it before. Tommy had grown up having to hold in his thoughts and feelings. They'd build and build until he'd do something erratic or harmful. Then he joined the army, and those emotions would build up the same way. Being in the army itself was a bit erratic and harmful, so he didn't have the best coping skills.

It wasn't until he started therapy, and his therapist helped him realize that he needed to let himself feel whatever he was feeling that he slowly and gradually became better at opening up.

However, there were still days where he felt the need to let everything build. Build and build until he burst. Except, now days, instead of becoming erratic or harmful, his eyes would well up and his lip would come out in a pout, and Buck would feel the need to move heaven and earth to make it all better.

Buck knew something was off as soon as he got home from work. Tommy was already there in the garage, half bent over his truck as he worked on the engine.

Buck let out a whistle. “What a view,” he teased.

Tommy glanced back at him, gave him a half smile before focusing back on his truck. “Hey, Baby. I ordered dinner. Should be in before it gets here.”

To anyone else, that might seem like a regular conversation. To Buck, it was the exact opposite. Normal Tommy would make some teasing comment right back, letting Buck know what he was seeing was just a preview of what was to come.

This... This was the start of an emotional night.

*****

Dinner was fairly quiet, with Buck leading most of the conversation. He knew not to ask questions yet. If he did it too soon, Tommy would completely shut down and it would take even longer to get any information out of him. As much as Buck hated it, this had to play out a certain way.

Luckily, he was fluent in Tommy.

It was a little after dinner, once Buck had settled in the living room, that it began.

“Evan?” Tommy called out from the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“Is... Did you put my ice cream in a different spot?”

“No, it's-” Buck froze, thinking back to two nights ago. Jee had come over and wanted a treat. She ended up eating the last of Tommy's favorite birthday cake ice cream. He knew that, on a regular day, Tommy wouldn't care that it was gone.

He also knew today wasn't a regular day.

“I think it's all gone, Babe,” he said cautiously as he got up from the couch and headed into the kitchen.

“Oh. Okay.”

He wasn't angry. He never got angry over little things like that.

He was sad. Resigned to the fact he would not be getting any of his favorite ice cream tonight.

Buck often felt like it'd be a lot easier if he just got angry.

He made it into the kitchen just as Tommy closed the freezer door. His face downcast, he glanced up at Buck through his eyelashes, eyes wide and wet. His bottom lip jutted out ever so slightly before he turned away from Buck and headed for the pantry.

“I'll have cookies instead,” he said with a sniff.

Buck got out his phone and pressed a few buttons before stuffing it back into his pocket and walking over to Tommy.

“Honey, why don't we just go sit down for a minute?”

“I just...” His shoulders sagged. “I really don't want cookies.”

Gently, Buck placed his hands on Tommy's back, nudging him until he could lead him toward the living room. “Why don't we go sit on the couch, okay?”

Tommy simply nodded, but Buck could see him lift a hand to his face and wipe a tear off his cheek.

The thing was, Buck knew he could be a handful sometimes. He was bratty, pouty, stubborn, and jealous. And Tommy accepted all of that. Not just accepted it, loved it. He loved every part of Buck, even the parts Buck didn't love himself.

Buck also knew Tommy would do anything for him. Would drop whatever he was doing and run to Buck's side the second he got a call. Would wait on him hand and foot. He spoiled Buck rotten, and everyone knew it.

There weren't as many opportunities for Buck to reciprocate that level of love and support. But when these days came along, that what's Buck's time to shine. He hated to see Tommy like this, but loved that he could be there for him. Loved that he could help him through it. So that's what he did.

They got situated, Buck leaning against the arm rest with his legs sprawled out on the couch. He pulled Tommy down so his back rested against Buck's chest. Buck wrapped his arms around him, hands meeting just over his heart. Tommy's hands drifted up and latched onto Buck's, holding tight.

“Why don't you tell me about work?” Buck asked, pressing a kiss to the top of Tommy's head. Things had been fine before they left for work the previous morning, so something had to have happened during their shift.

“I only had two calls.”

“And?”

“And the first one was a drunk driver. It was noon, Evan. Noon.”

“Casualties?”

Tommy shook his head. “No, but a young girl got hit. Spinal injury. She probably won't walk again.”

Now Buck had a starting point.

“After that?”

Tommy's body tensed so Buck squeezed him tighter. “The new probie, Jenkins, did something stupid and pissed me off.”

“What'd he do?”

“Doesn't matter.”

“If it pissed you off, it matters.”

“He's one of those religious types that carries pamphlets in their pockets,” Tommy explained. “I guess he overheard me talking about you- about us- a few weeks ago so he gifted me a pamphlet today.”

Buck knew where this was going. “You're kidding me?”

“I wish. It was some Adam and Eve crap, not even original. It reminded me of my dad. He... He used to say things like that. Anyway, I threw the pamphlet away without reading it.”

“Good for you.”

Tommy shifted slightly, tangling his and Buck's legs together. “The only thing that kept running through my mind was how we watched a little girl's life change forever, she will never walk again, and all Jenkins was thinking about was turning me straight.”

Buck brought a hand to Tommy's hair, carefully running his fingers through it. “I'm sorry, Tommy.”

“My aunt texted me too. Wanted me to come to the next family reunion.”

“Are you gonna go?”

“I told her I'd have a plus one and she... she said she doesn't wanna hear my dad complain for an entire weekend. I was quickly uninvited.”

Buck took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I- If you wanna go-”

“There's not a single part of me that wants to be there, especially without you. I'm good.”

“If you're sure.”

“I'm sure.”

“What about your truck?” Buck asked. “You were working on it when I got home.”

“Oh. That.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “That was the icing on the cake. Engine light came on in the middle of my drive home. I think I fixed the problem for now, but I'm gonna need a new engine soon. Everything just fell apart today, Evan, I- sorry.”

“You don't need to be sorry.” Just then the doorbell rang and Buck gave Tommy a pat on the shoulder. “You do need to get the door though. It's for you.”

Tommy sat up, eyebrows furrowing at Buck before he got up and headed for the door.

About thirty seconds later, he was back with a paper bag in hand. His eyes were soft and tear-filled, but not with sadness this time. “You ordered my ice cream?”

Buck nodded, giving him a smile. “Of course I did.”

Tommy set the bag down and walked over to Buck, kneeling beside the couch and resting his head on Evan's lap. He wrapped his arms around Evan's waist the best he could, his face pressed against Evan's stomach. “I love you so much.”

After a few seconds, Buck stroked his thumb over Tommy's cheek. “Come here,” he said softly, pulling him up for a chaste kiss. “I love you too.”

[freeabortionslol]

Welcome Home (jack hughes x gf!reader)

summary: fluff! you've been studying abroad in France for the past three months, and your boyfriend jack plans a surprise welcome home party. he's deemed this night as the perfect time to tell you he loves you (feat. quinn hughes, luke hughes, nico hischier, jesper bratt, nicole laud, trevor zegras)

warnings!! cursing, glass breaking idk, trevor and nico being idiots

a/n just a short lil blurb bc I wanted to write for jack. had to give luke a bit of the spotlight bc I just love him sm

wc: 1.5k

“No no no! It’s not straight enough!” Jack yelled to his brother Quinn who was standing on a barstool placing a banner on the wall. “Move it up. No, not to the side! Move it up! Keep it straight!”

“Jack, it’s really difficult to do this while you’re screaming in my face!” Quinn yelled back, causing Jack to take a step away. “Let me remind you that you practically begged me to do this!”

“I did not beg you!”

“Yes you did! You said ‘Quinn we have to hang this banner up, but you’re so much better at doing it than I am’ when we all know that you’re just scared to stand on the stool!”

“I’m not scared!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay Hotshot, you get up here and do it then!” Jack kept his spot standing safely on the ground, keeping his stare on Quinn. “That's what I thought. Go run along.” Quinn shooed Jack away with his hand and continued trying to center the banner. Jack made his way through your apartment which was now crowded with your closest friends. You had been studying abroad in France for the past three months, and you were finally coming home to New York. Your boyfriend, Jack, thought it would be perfect to bring everyone you missed so much, right to your door. It was a surprise welcoming party of course, knowing Jack Hughes he had to add some flare. He hoped that when you caught sight of his grand gesture, you’d reward him with kisses and all the love your heart could hold. The two of you had been dating for five months now, and have yet to say “I love you” to each other. You both felt it and knew it, but you both had fear of rejection which stopped you. Jack had decided when he began planning this, that he would tell you right then and there. Everyone could tell how anxious he was trying to make everything perfect just for you. He paced around the living room, occasionally flipping his hat from backwards to forwards every couple seconds. He made his way to the kitchen and began straightening the bowls of snacks, making sure they were perfectly lined up with each other.

“She’s gonna love it, Jack. There’s no reason to stress.” He looked over his shoulder to see Jesper’s wife, Nicole, wearing a half-smile as she tried to comfort his nerves. Jack returned the smile, and relaxed his shoulders.

“Not his fault that he’s pussy whipped, babe. Even if he hasn’t had the pussy in three months. Jesper said with a hit to Jack’s back. His words earned a slap to the shoulder from his wife.

“He’s not whipped!” Her tone grew angry. “He’s in love.” Jack’s face tinted red as Jesper began to laugh at the sight of his teammate so flustered. He’d never heard it out loud from someone else, and he worried that Nicole somehow saw through him.

It was now ten minutes until you arrived. You were so sick of the airport and you never wanted to step foot into one again. The cab ride back to your apartment was your favorite part of the day. You got to sight see all of the familiar buildings you had missed so dearly. Sure, you loved living in France, but France didn’t have Jack Hughes. You thought you’d be going home to a quiet apartment where you’d read for a bit on the couch, and probably invite Jack over afterwards. Clueless and tired, you had no idea of the chaos that was currently unfolding in your one bedroom apartment in the city.

Everything was going perfectly according to Jack's plan, until Nico and Trevor started visually teaching a group of your girl friends one of Luke’s famous plays. The two of them stood near the kitchen island as they explained, trying to impress the women.

“So, I'm skating right here.” Trevor starts. “I got the puck with me, and then all of a sudden Luke comes swooshing in outta nowhere!” Nico tries to carry out Luke’s play, stepping in front of Trevor which results in him accidentally pushing Trevor into one of the snack bowls that rested on the counter. The glass bowl shattered on the ground in front of them, causing Jack's head to pop up from the living room. He frantically ran over to the kitchen after grabbing the broom for the closet. Nico and Trevor immediately began picking up the big chunks of broken glass while Jack brought over the broom. As he was just about to start sweeping the shards of glass and chips on the floor, he felt his phone buzz from his pocket.

You: hey lil jizzy finally made it to my apartment :)) come over whenever you want i’ll be here

“Shit! Y/n’s here!” Jack yelled out to everyone in the apartment. People began running into your bedroom, as Jack, Nico, Trevor, Jasper, Nicole, Quinn, and Luke frantically tried to clean up the place. Quinn looked up from the mess to see the banner he’d just hung starting to fall off the wall.

“Jack! The banner!” He shouted, causing Jack to whip his head at the wall.

“Fuck the banner! It’s go time!” Jack finished sweeping the broken pieces of glass into the dustpan, throwing it into the trash, and bolting towards your room. Nico and Trevor followed behind him. Quinn ran to where the banner was, but without a stool he wasn’t able to bring it down.

“I’ll get it! Just go!” Luke frantically yelled at him, watching as he turned out the lights of the apartment and raced to your room shutting the door behind him. Luke reached up to grab the banner, tugging it down, but one of the sides was snagged on something hanging on your wall. He anxiously tried pulling it down as he heard your keys jingle from the other side of the door. Luckily, he finally was able to snag it down, crumpling it up and throwing it on the ground. In this moment, Luke realized he had nowhere to run to, and he stayed frozen in your kitchen, unable to move. You walked in the door, earbuds in your ears with your eyes glued to your phone. You let out a sigh of relief as you dropped your luggage and turned on the lights to your apartment. You slowly put your earbuds into your pocket, feeling the refreshing air of your own home. You looked up from your phone to see Luke standing in your kitchen, jumping at the sight of him. You tilted your head slightly as you traveled closer to him, standing near your bedroom door while he was behind the island.

“Hey, Luke Hughes.” you said with a slight smile on your face. Luke sent you an awkward smile and a small wave. “What are you doing in my apartment?” Luke only rubbed the back of his neck, stepping on the crushed up banner below him hoping the people in your bedroom would save him. At his expense, they did not. Jack’s plan was to wait for you to open your bedroom door and then everyone would surprise you.

“I uhh..” Luke searched his mind for an excuse “I had to take a leak. Yeah. I had to piss a-and your place was the closest to me.” Your face grew confused as Luke was breaking down on the inside.

“You don’t have a key to my apartment.” You let out a confused laugh.

“I don’t?”

“No. You don’t.” You shook your head pursing your lips. “So unless this place was unlocked for three months-”

“SURPRISE!” Jack yelled and whipped open the door behind you, which caused a small scream to escape your lips. You looked into your bedroom to see all of your closest friends jumping up and down and laughing. Your smile grew wider in shock as Jack pulled you into a tight hug, everyone else scurrying out of the room. 

“I missed you so much. You have no idea.” He kissed the top of your head and rocked you back and forth. Feeling his arms around you for the first time in three months was indescribable. Being on the phone with him every night was nothing compared to being engulfed in the scent of his cologne. You felt tears bubbled up in your eyes as you were just so grateful that Jack was there with you.

“You did all of this for me?” You said pulling away from the hug, placing a hand on his cheek.

“Yeah, of course.” Jack grinned wide. “Cause, I love you.” Your eyes went wide as you tilted your head to the side.

“You WHAT?”

“I love you!” He shouted in your face, giggling through his words. You quickly pulled him in to place a soft kiss on his lips.

“I love you too, Jacky.” You giggled, your lips ghosting his as he pulled you back in.

The party carried on swiftly, unlike before. Jack teased Luke about his stupid excuse for why he was in your kitchen. You and Jack were sitting on the couch together. He was leaned against the arm while you laid against him, letting your hand fall to his. The two of you stole kisses from each other throughout the night, knowing you were just two people who loved each other reunited for, hopefully, the last time.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Logan Howlett x Cyclops variant male reader

Ficlet

Reader is a Cyclops variant, just extra spikey, because Scogan is one of my guilty pleasures. I don’t know a whole lot about the X-men, so this I try to keep it vague.

I’m also very sick, so if this sucks, that’s why. I didn’t get a request for this, but I just needed it out my system.

Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers ahead!!

The void was a strange place, it didn’t take Logan long to learn that. Being stuck with Deadpool meant he had come to expect seeing weird shit, but a very angry, very bloody, almost half feral Cyclops was not one of them. You were simply so… angry. From what the resistance could tell them, your deep connection to the punch dimension, and whatever else had you picked up by the TVA and dumped into the Void, kept you safely out of Novas grasp, even if she very openly wanted you by her side.

Seeing the familiar visor made Logans heart ache so deeply, but that snarl on your lips reminded him too much of himself. Deadpool being himself immediately started cracking jokes, only for you to blast him with your eyes. And instead of just throwing Deadpool back, it seemed to completely disintegrate arm right off his body. Logan later learned that was one of the reasons the TVA picked you up. Apparently, your mutation was… wrong. Cyclops wasn’t meant to slice people in half with his eyes, just throw or punch them back. But whatever life you had lived, had shaped you differently.

Working side by side with a Cyclops again took some getting used too, and for you it was difficult too. But that rivalry but underlying respect was still there. You couldn’t decide if you wanted to hit him or kiss him when Logan absentmindedly called you Slim for the first time. In the end you nailed him in the knee with your one of your beams, just enough to get him to trip face first into the ground. That had caused Logan to snap out at you with his claws, but there had been no real heat behind it.

After everything, with Nova, with the TVA, and with you and Logan for some reason settling down in Deadpools dimension, things were up in the air. The X-men still existed in this world, and neither of you felt much want to join them again. Both for the fact that they clearly already had a much more stable Cyclops, and their Wolverine had been dead for years at this point. So, in the end you two just stuck together, tracking down different mutant traffickers and other bad guys, and dealing with them in your own violent manner. Your beams and other abilities, and Logan technically being dead in this world kept you both an unknown card in this world, to everyone but Deadpool at least.

Sure, at some point your actions would catch the attention of the X-men, but it would take them a while, and during that time the relationship between you two brewed into something new and different, but still good. At least, you thought it was good, and if Logans shoulders growing less tense and his eyes less haunted meant anything, then you could only assume the same from him.

Seeing Jean, Remy and Anna Marie on a hit wasn’t something you expected though. Logan had never truly dealt with his grief of losing them, and you had over dealt with it, to the point where you felt nothing but an empty black hole, which fueled the more deadly part of your powers. In the end, you sent Logan away, as you distracted the present X-men, with the fancy black beams you had mastered, keeping their appearance different enough that they wouldn’t be able to tie it back to their Cyclops.

Maybe the reunion with past familiar faces was what broke the camels back with Logan, as the moment you guys got back to your motel room, you found yourself flung onto the bed, Logan easily ripping your baggy clothes off your body. “Logan- hold up” you grunted out, as he descended upon you like an animal, sinking his teeth into your neck, your shoulders, your chest, as his hands grabbed and kneaded at you. Unlike most cyclops, you had a healing factor, so it was fine, but still, seeing him so fervent had you worried.

Logan had never been one for talking about feelings, but he also wasn’t gonna force you to do something when you clearly wanted to talk about it first. In the end, you two wound up laying side by side, Logans ear resting against your chest to hear your heartbeat even if his heightened senses easily could have heard it anywhere else. It was clearly painful for him to talk about it, how he felt, what he wanted to do about it but couldn’t, what he thought of himself, so on and so forth. And through it all, you just found yourself rubbing his back and caressing his hair, giving him replies when he needed it.

Getting all the nasty details off his chest seemed to be what Logan needed, as he became so much more relaxed and softer afterwards. You had never imagined you’d see the wolverine of all people being soft, but him laying on your chest and drawing small shapes on your stomach was proof it was real. Hearing it all from Logan brought of some of your own suppressed memories, stuff you wanted to forget or stuff you had overanalyzed till it lost all meaning, but still, you found yourself spilling it all to him. What happened to you, your own x-men, your powers, how you ended up in the void.

It left you both feeling vulnerable, like an exposed nerve, but also so much closer. It was at this point you two officially started your relationship, and would also be the day you celebrated anniversaries, even if Logan acted like he didn’t care.

In the end, you two hadn’t really planned too far out in the future, what you would do, where you would go, you just kinda lived at the edge of your seats and went where the wind took you. Of course, you guys joined Deadpool and his little gang of misfits every now and then, whenever you were around his territory. You shouldn’t have been surprised when the X-men finally fully tracked you down. Apparently, Colossus had been a great guy and kept you two hidden, since you in his words “needed time to heal and find yourselves”.

Them having Kurt bamf into your motel room was too much though, especially as Logan almost skewered him on his claws, only avoided by old instincts of Kurts taking him out of fire. They had all been near tears when they saw Logan, some happier or weepier than others. He fit in so great with them, and made that lonely sour feeling rear its ugly head as you sank into the background.

Logan, being ever observant, pulled you to the front, and introduced you by his nickname for you, easily stating that you were his, and that was that. Your visor had been lost a long time ago, replaced by whatever shades or goggles you two could find, but it was pretty clear who’s variant you were. It left the X-men floundering when it became obvious you two were more than just allies. Your preference for bloody violence was also pretty new, but what could they really do.

You both denied joining the X-men, blaming it on not wanting to settle down in one place. Xavier had a very knowing look on his face, so you wouldn’t be shocked if he knew exactly why neither of you felt comfortable amongst their ranks, at least for a long while. That didn’t keep different X-men from pulling up on you two any chance they got. Apparently seeing an edgier more rebel version of their leader and/or headmaster was quite a hit. They talked about you offering students beer for months, and how sour this worlds Cyclops looked about you made you cackle. So maybe it wasn’t all bad. But only the future could really tell, but with Logan, and your shared group of randos, then that future didn’t look too bleak .

[e-m-ma-lmfao]

"We're gonna get out of here, I promise"

pairing : mike munroe x (fem) reader

cw : mike has a gun, talk of death, and blood, and maybe like one swear I don't know. reader is referred to as mike’s girlfriend, but other than that i don’t believe any female pronouns are used.

a/n : i know this is kind of late since the until dawn remake has been out for a while but i kept procrastinating this after I started it. anyways #needthat.

The wind pulls at you from every angle, hair clinging to your sweaty, frostbitten cheeks. Adrenaline kept your body moving through the never-ending maze of trees and snow; you didn’t think it would last much longer. You were sure if you continued in this direction, eventually, you would reach the sanatorium. 

It was marked on the map in the cable car station, the same map you had seen before you made your way up to the lodge with Sam and Chris. That was hours ago, and you wish you could go back and warn yourself to go back down the mountain. Or even better, ignore Josh’s email altogether and stay home. Play sick. You’d say anything not to be where you are, right now. 

But that’s not possible, is it? 

Your clothes are sticky with blood. Not your own, you think. You hope. This night was not turning out the way you had expected it to. And the choices you had made leading up to this point were beginning to make your stomach turn the longer you thought about them. 

Why did you leave the lodge? You could’ve stayed on the kitchen floor after that psycho knocked you out; you could’ve pretended not to hear Chris’s attempts to wake you up. You could’ve looked for a phone instead of rushing into the snow to find Ashley. Speaking of them, why had you left Chris and Ashley? You could’ve returned to the lodge with them to find Sam after witnessing your friend be sawed in half, but no. You needed to know that Mike was okay considering you hadn’t seen him since you both arrived. 

Why did you start that argument with Mike before the two of you had left for the lodge? 

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Like what?”

“You're getting jealous over nothing. We’ve talked about this, there is nothing between me and Em. I’m with you. I’m in love with you. Why does this keep being brought up?”

“Maybe because she texts your phone like you're still close? ‘Text when you and the new gf get here, can’t wait to see you, winky face’,” you push his phone towards him. “She knows who I am, why does she feel the need to refer to me as the ‘new girlfriend’ as if we’ve never met? And why is she sending you winky faces? Why exactly is Em so excited to see you, Mike?” You make a point of emphasizing her nickname which seems to flow off his tongue so easily. 

“You’re looking into this way too much. This is crazy, I mean come on, that’s how she texts everyone, baby.” He gently takes his phone from you, throwing it onto the bed and reaching back for your hand which hovers in the air. You let him, but you make no effort to hold his hand back, fingers only resting in his hold. A soft sigh leaves your lips. 

“Yeah well, I’m not loving that she texts you that way and I’m also not loving the fact that you’ve said nothing to her about how weird it is. You have no problem defending her when you talk to me, so why can’t you say something to her about how I feel?”

“If I said something it would just cause a fight between me and her, or you and her, and the last thing that anyone needs up there, especially Josh, is for all of us to be fighting. Can you pretend to like her, only for the weekend, and then you never have to again.”

“You say that every time she’s involved, ‘just pretend to like her for tonight, and then you never have to ever again.’ But I will, because for some reason she is always around. I figured when Matt and she started dating we would see her less but I guess I was wrong.”

“Please, let’s just go and get it over with. We’re doing this for Josh, remember?”

“I don’t know, Michael, something about spending an entire weekend with your ex-girlfriend isn’t really appealing to me anymore. Call me crazy.” His eyebrows soften as you use his full name, especially in that tone. He is enjoying this conversation less than you are. 

“Don’t be this way, we’re already packed and ready to go. Just come downstairs and get in the truck. She won’t bother us, baby, I promise. Come on..” He attempts to pull you, gently bringing your hand closer to him. But your fingers slip from his hand, dropping to your side. From the bed, his phone buzzes, the screen lights up, and you don’t have to look to know who’s messaging him. 

“Sam told me she's taking the bus up there, I think,” you look back to him, “I’ll just head up with her so she doesn't have to go alone.”

“But then I have to go alone. And the bus leaves in like an hour, that's barely enough time to get ready and get to the stop. You're being ridiculous, just come with me. And if you want to, we can talk about this on the way up.” 

 You look away from him, missing the way his face falls as you turn your back to him. “I’ll see you up there, Mike.”

If you had just let it go, believed him, and gone with him instead of taking the bus with Sam, you would’ve never been angry with each other at the lodge. Or rather, you wouldn’t have been so furious with him because you would’ve talked things out in the truck, kissed, and made up instead of stewing in your thoughts on the bus. You wouldn’t be worrying about whether or not he was alive right now. But you were stubborn and foolish, and now you are trudging through the snow, improperly dressed, and praying the person you love is still breathing on this stupid mountain. 

You cross your arms over your chest, preserving what little warmth you have left, and with every step you lose another piece of hope. All you can think of is him. And how, if he is dead, he would’ve died thinking that you were mad at him. You weren’t even angry, annoyed for sure but not angry, you were just being stubborn and taking your frustration out on him. Now you might never get to apologize. The thought makes your stomach churn and your steps falter as a wave of nausea overtakes you. 

But, finally, in the distance you see the outline of a large building surrounded by a brick fence that appears to be falling apart. You allow yourself to be comforted, just for a moment, by the sanatorium's existence. The nausea in your stomach ceases as your steps quicken, arms uncrossing to move through the air. You reach the gate, blocked by the large pile of snow blocking both sides, not that you think you could’ve pushed it open in your current state; blocked from snow or not. 

You let your hand trace across the gate's bars as you walk towards the side of the fence. The pads of your fingers sting from the cold metal but you keep them where they are. As you move, they follow, moving from metal to brick. The only way into the sanatorium courtyard, you realize, is to climb over the stone fencing. 

A tired sigh leaves your body. You place your hands on the wall, palms stinging from the snow-covered surface. You lift your body, throwing your leg over simultaneously, climbing on top to straddle the snowy stone. The action uses more energy than you realistically have left so instead of gracefully landing on the other side of the wall you fall, directly onto your back. At least the pile of snow beneath you cushions your fall a tiny bit, but it still takes you a few minutes to recover your breath. 

Using the wall, you find your footing again. The snow falls from your clothes as you stumble towards the sanatorium. You don’t even know what you were expecting to discover here. You figured there might be people here. Maybe a construction crew, getting ready to tear the old building down. A custodian, forced to stay and take care of an abandoned building. Or on the slimmer side of chance, a large group of stable nurses and doctors that would offer you and your friends shelter and much-needed medical attention. However, the closer you get, the more you realize how fucked you are. Nobody is out here. And it was stupid to believe there would be. 

But you’ve come this far, and the chill that runs through your body borders on hypothermic potential. You reach the front doors, using your body to push the door open, shoulder first. It opens far easier than expected, and you fall to your hands and knees as it flies inwards. “Fuck.. me.” 

You don’t move from the floor, the opposite actually, you get closer to it, falling onto your back. You don’t even want to get up. No one is here. All your friends are probably dead back down by the lodge. What’s the point? At least this way you’ll have time to think over every choice that led you here, it’ll take a while for the cold to kill you since your feet are the only part of you still lying outside the building. From farther within the entry hall you hear a door open, the sound of steps echoing through the empty building. And though your heart rate picks up speed, you don’t move. Instead, you pray that whatever it is, will kill you quickly so you can be with your friends again. So you can be with Mike. 

“Who’s there? Whoever it is, just know I am armed and I am not afraid to shoot you. I have had one hell of a night and I am so not in the mood for.. whatever it is that you want.” Even with your heartbeat drumming against your ear canals, you still pick up the voice. A man's voice. Almost recognizable. You let your eyes close, murmuring the only thing you can think of like a mantra. Mike. Mike. Mike. Mike. 

“Holy shit. Y/n?” Mike? You turn your neck enough to see the man approaching. A sudden second surge of energy fills you, and you lift yourself into a sitting position to fully face the figure walking towards you. 

“M..mike?” 

“Holy- Oh my god, how are you- Are you okay?” He falls to his knees in front of you, dropping the gun and the lantern in his hands on the floor. His hands hover around you, scared to touch you. You notice that two of the fingers on his left hand are missing, replaced by a bandage soaked in blood.  Your hands are the first to make contact, landing on both sides of his dirty face.

“Are you real?” He nods, pulling you into a too-tight embrace. A stark contrast to his previous concern and reluctance to touch you. 

“Yes. Yes, I’m real. I’m so glad to see you. You’re alive.. holy shit I can’t believe you’re alive.”

“You look terrible” You wipe away some dirt from his face. Eyes wide as you try to convince yourself that he is actually in front of you. You had convinced yourself that he was dead, and now to see him in front of you alive and well - okay maybe not well but he’s not dead - it has your brain moving a mile a minute. There is so much you have to say. So much you have to explain to him. How do you explain to someone that his friend was sawed in half on the anniversary of his sister's death? Or how do you explain that the rest of his friends might ALSO be dead? And without sounding insane, how do you explain that you truly believe something is up on the mountain with you and that it might’ve followed you the entire way to the sanatorium? You can’t.  

“Well, I’m happy to see you too, baby.” He laughs breathily, unsteady. A laugh of disbelief. His way of coping has always been humor, even at the most inappropriate of times. Your features are probably the exact opposite of his uncertain smile. You pull him close again, practically pushing him to the ground, but his arms wrap around you and he straightens his back to keep the two of you upright. “Woah, I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here.”

You push your face into his shoulder, saturating the filthy, green jacket that he wears with tears. It stinks like cigar smoke, years of sweat buildup, and dirt. 

“Mike- Oh Mike,” your voice is muffled in his skin, pausing in between sobs to catch your breath. His arm wraps tighter around your waist, the other arm reaching up so his hand can rest in your tangled hair. “I’m so- I am so so sorry Micheal. I thought you were dead, I thought- I thought you died thinking I was angry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay. Don’t apologize. I’m just- I’m so glad you’re alive.” He kisses your temple, and as you raise your red face to look him in the eyes, he moves your hair out of your face. “We’re gonna get out of here, okay? Can you walk? God, you must be freezing. Did you come all the way from the lodge like this? Fuck, y/n, how are you even alive.” You shake your head, a silent confirmation that you don’t know how you’re alive either. 

He helps you to your feet, taking off the unfamiliar jacket and helping you into it. He then retrieves the lantern and the gun from the floor, “Here, can you hold this up?” You nod, and take the lantern from his hand. In the hand opposite of you, he holds the gun, and with the other, he intertwines his fingers with yours. “We're gonna get out of here. I am going to get you out of here, I promise.” He’s so certain, and your fear almost dissipates completely as he leads you farther into the sanatorium with a tight grip on your hand.

[fandomhopper-shit]

𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐏𝐞𝐭

Regina George x Female Reader

Summary : After the bus incident regina started to become more aware of everything around her one thing that stuck out to her was the cute girl that sat at the back of her algebra class, turns out she wasn't the only one to see that after all the girl seemed to be the Teacher's Pet

Warnings: Ooc Regina? Internal and External Homophobia, Forced Religion, Manipulation, Perverted old men,Terrible Parents, Swearing, Mentions of Forced Marriage, Protective Regina and Mild Scopophobia [Fear of Being looked at]

A/N: This is probably gonna be terrible like my other one so i will probably keep this in my drafts part 2 will come out just not eventually

Regina's Pov :

Walking back through the halls of North shore was a completely different experience for me since i wasn't the queen be anymore i started to see more of the 'background characters' as the old me would say, there were so many underrated cliques that honestly looked kinda cool and fun to hang out with for example ; The goths their make up looked so complicated but it fit them just as much as their clothes then there was the softball girls who looked like they could kick your ass but when you looked close enough they were just a bunch of goofy masc's but I would never tell any of them this to their faces I was reformed but I was still Regina George.

I walked into my Homeroom and saw a new teacher, I guess since it was a new year so there were bound to be some new people but what really caught my eye was the girl sat in the back of the classroom near the window, she was pretty. Really pretty. She wore a red oversized hoodie that was covered in white stars that were painted on there were other splatters of paint on it which just made it all the more unique then she had a plaid skirt that fell comfortably onto her thighs she wore thigh high socks with vans that once again had stars painted all over them but this time they re painted baby pink. It was adorable she looked too innocent to be going to a school like North shore.

I snapped out of my daze when the final bell rang I looked around for new seat and lit up when i saw one in front of the cutie, I quickly walked towards it before any other jock could take it. When i sat down she glanced away from the window towards me and a look of fear i think passed her face i couldn't tell because her face went blank as soon as she looked back at the window completely ignoring my presence I frowned and turned my head back around to see the new teacher looking at her with a weird glint in his eye it made me suspicious but i pushed it aside when he started speaking.

I think i could speak for everyone when I say we were surprised at the strong Southern accent the man had "Y'all bring to your books out we're gonna be looking' over some extra stuff y'all'd've see last year" He paused and let his eyes scan the entire classroom looking onto the girl behind me who refused to raise her head and meet his gaze and for some reason he smirked showing off his rancid brown smoker teeth then he went back to having a passive look, something about him made me and all the other girls and guys in class extremely uncomfortable he was watching us as if we were pieces of meat or worse Toys "Alright everyone My name is Mr Rockefeller, y'all will address me as such ye hear." He had a threatening undertone causing everyone even the football jocks to shrink into thir seats and nod.

The lesson went on and the uncomfortable energy increased especially when he was walking round the classroom 'helping' students with the work, by pure luck he didn't come over to me but he did spend half the lesson with the mystery girl behind me whispering things to her i could hear her swallowing and shuffling uncomfortably in her seat. I couldn't hear everything he was saying but i definitely caught bits and pieces that made me sick to my stomach, the bell rang and we all rushed towards the door I was about to make it out the door when I heard him call someone back "Ms (L/N) please stay behind I' do like to discuss some matters with you," He had the same weird glint in his eyes as he had at the start of the lesson it was unnerving and borderline predatory my posture stiffened i wanted to say something but my body didn't let me luckily Ms Norbury came in "Mr Rockefeller i'm sorry but Miss (L/N) must come with me to sort out the rest of classes as well as her clubs that her parents signed her up for her," She said not noticing the tense atmosphere in the room, i didn't even notice the breath that left my body.

Ms Norbury turned to me "Ah Regina just the girl i wanted to see, as a part of your new leaf you wouldn't mind if you could show miss (L/N) around the school and take her to her clubs you wouldn't mind that would you Great thank you," she rushed past me after a message popped up on her phone, leaving me stood in the entrance of the classroom while the new teacher and Student were stood in the classroom. The man looked like he was about to murder someone and the girl looked sort of relived but terrified, after a few seconds of awkward seconds she slowly walked towards me like a timid little deer avoiding my eyes and handed me a piece of paper i looked it over and realised it was practically a copy of mine, I smiled to myself "Well looks like we have very class together besides Pe but right now we have English so let's go," I gave the teacher an awkward wave as he glared at me as if i ruined his life, guiding her out the classroom we walked in silence she was constantly avoiding everyones eyes who turned to us so in response i glared at them and they turned away. Just cause i was turning a new leaf didn't mean couldn't install the fear of god into them.

We reached the classroom, walked in and i let her pick the seat she was most comfortable in which was closer to the back window I sat next to her and passed her back her schedule "After this we have History which is at top floor Then Art, Math and Lunch if you want you can sit with my friends?" I shifted in my seat nervously when she didn't reply for a good 30 seconds had i overstepped was she uncomfortable oh god shit shit shit i didn't mean to do that what do i do maybe i ca-

My spiralling was cut off when i heard a small southern voice quiet enough that i almost thought i imagined it "Your okay, don't wanna disturb y'all," She whispered letting her hair fall infant of her face to avoid my eyes as if she said something wrong, Her accent was similar to Mr Rockefeller's except more pleasant and it reminded me of a little mouse it was adorable. "We'd love to have you with us (Y/N) don't worry they'll love you," i gently let my hand hover over her arm not actually touching her but letting her know i was there, in homeroom she seemed to hate physical touch she flinched when someone brushed their hand on hers when she let them borrow a pen not to mention the way she was shaking like a leaf when Mr Rockefeller was practically pressing himself up behind her "I'll make sure they don't bombard you too much, if you get overwhelmed by them I'll take you out of there just tap my knee is that good? " the short time i've known her i guess you could say i'm protective of her.

She gave me a small smile so small in fact I almost missed it, the lesson carried on till the bell rang and everyone filed out chatting with their friends in the middle of the hall way it looked normal to me but she looked like she was overwhelmed her eyes were darting all over the place and she was shaking slightly without a single thought i hovered my hand over the small of her back and guided her to the top floor towards our history class, by the time we got there she had calmed down and was almost leaning in to my touch but i was probably imagining it we made it and the lesson went on as normal other than the teacher welcoming everyone.

@dandelions4us

[ihfmseatsoch]

Thinking about Dad!Curly... the guilt he'd feel for being the exact kind of creep he's tried to hard to protect you from...

(warnings: incest, smut, somno, noncon. fem!reader)

You'd always been the apple of his eye, his pride and joy. He'd constantly brag about you to everyone, and whether they were annoyed by it or not, it didn't matter. He was proud of you, loved you more than anything else. He needed to shout it from the rooftops. Maybe he spoiled you a little too rotten, half the gifts he'd wrap on Christmas going to you instead of extended family. He'd go overboard on birthdays, let you use his credit card for anything you liked. Even if you insisted you were just window shopping, he'd buy whatever you were eyeing behind your back and surprise you with it.

In his eyes, you deserved it for just existing, giving his life purpose when it felt empty. You're the only thing that's ever made him feel whole.

He mistook the way his eyes would linger on you for too long, or the way he'd keep thinking of you long after you went to bed, as that same paternal affection he's always felt. It couldn't possibly be anything else. At least, that's what he tried so hard to believe.

Raising you has been the most time, energy, and money he's ever dedicated himself to. He was just being the best father he could be; it wasn't anything unusual or wrong of him to be so attached. You were his daughter, after all, and for that reason, he never let himself wonder or question why he was so obsessive over you.

He brushed aside any impure thoughts or desires as nothing more than intrusive. He wasn't that kind of guy. He told himself that it was just his protectiveness, just a father caring for his daughter. Nothing more, nothing less. Just protecting you, keeping you safe and sound. He'd never be tempted to be a monster like that. That'd be wrong. Sick. Vile, and inexcusable.

But god, were you beautiful. His perfect little girl whom he adored so deeply... everything about you, it was like you were made of angel dust.

He tried so hard to stop himself from feeling anything other than fatherly love. He swears he did, but he was so drawn to you. You were irresistible, so goddamn tempting in those cute little clothes he bought you. Maybe he was a little bit selfish with the gifts he picked out for you, subconsciously wanting to admire your body in a short skirt that fit you just right.

Curly eventually hit his breaking point with the internal conflict running through his mind day after day. He'd prove to himself that he would never do anything to hurt you. At his wits end, he snuck into your room while you were asleep, challenging himself to look at you in a way that wasn't pent up lust. He could do it, he was sure. He was a good father, not a sick, perverted monster.

Your body was only covered halfway with your blanket, one of your legs sticking out, nearly bare if it wasn't for your pajama shorts. God, why did he feel so warm in the pit of his gut? He's just looking at you.

It's like his body and mind were on autopilot as he sat down on the edge of your bed. He doesn't know why he reached his hand over to your thigh, breath stuttering as he indulged in what he's been holding back from for so long. Curly's large hands wander, fondling every inch of skin he could grope. Your tits, hips... he even allowed himself to feel your cunt through the fabric of your clothes.

You squirmed in your sleep when his fingers brushed against your clit, causing his blood to run cold in fear. You couldn't see him like this. You couldn't ever find out what he was doing to you. You'd never forgive him. Hell, he can hardly forgive himself right now, but it's so hard to think clearly when his cock is throbbing for you, twitching in his pants, so eager for any kind of friction against you.

He positions himself so he's hunched over your sleeping form. You're so blissfully unaware of how disgusting your father is, grinding his hard-on against your clothed pussy, convincing himself it's marginally less wrong if he doesn't actually put it inside of you, but that thought is growing more enticing by the second. Curly struggles to hold back his groans of pleasure, getting off on the sheer thrill of it all, his heart thumping wildly in his chest.

You begin to stir, your father getting too carried away to think about the possibility of waking you up. When you blink your eyes open, he halts immediately. Fuck, what is he doing? He feels nauseous.

"Dad...?" You mumble, rubbing the sleep from your eyes so your vision can focus on your father, looming over you with the most terrified expression you've ever seen on his face.

"I– I'm sorry, fuck, I'm sorry... I don't know what's wrong with me, I–" Curly stammers, mortified with himself, yet he doesn't move away. He can't. It feels too good. You feel way too fucking good for him to stop. You're delirious from sleep, and he'd hate to lie to you, but...

"...I–It's okay, honey. Go back to sleep." Against his better judgement, he finds himself cooing to you, petting your cheek with the back of his hand. His touch is so comforting, and you're already so, so sleepy... your eyes droop closed once again, your brain unable to register his fingers looping around the hem of your shorts, pulling them down.

"That's it, sweet pea. Daddy's got you." He nearly moans aloud at the sight of your cunt. Untouched by any man, other than him. He'd rather die than allow an immature boy your age take your virginity. They wouldn't know how to take care of you. Curly does. He always has, and he always will.

This is how he rationalizes the situation in his head as he slowly slips himself into your hole. He's relieved that you're already wet for him, making it an easy insertion. He'd never want to hurt you.

The slick drag of your walls, squeezing so tight around his cock, makes him involuntary let out a deep, throaty groan from deep in his chest. He knows he's... well endowed, so he goes slow. Easing you open, savoring this moment as long as he can.

The slick drag of your walls, squeezing so tight around his cock, makes him involuntary let out a throaty groan from deep inside his chest. He knows he's... well endowed, so he goes slow. Easing you open, savoring this moment as long as he can.

"Sh– Shit, sweetheart, you feel so–" he grunts, inching himself halfway in, "–Fucking good. So good for dad, baby."

He's not directly speaking to you, as you've already drifted off back into a peaceful slumber. Curly's just always been very vocal, especially with his praise for you. He doesn't need to hold back even if you're not actually listening.

He thrusts slowly, being so gentle with you. You're delicate to him, his fragile girl that he needs to devote himself to keeping safe. An ironic mindset, considering the position he's in.

Even if you never know it, your dad was your first. This is the best case scenario in his eyes. No one else will touch you with their filthy hands. No one else could fuck you like he does, with the amount of care and love he has for you.

"Daddy loves you," He babbles as he feels himself getting close, his hips stuttering as he goes a little faster, just so he can finish quickly, "God, I love you so much, honey."

Curly pulls out when he cums, for what it's worth. He even wipes his cum off your stomach, cleans between your legs with a warm rag, and slips your shorts back on for you. And of course, he doesn't leave your room without leaving a kiss on your cheek.

He's so thoughtful! ☺️

[strlvvr]

my best friends brother (is the one for me) - part four

ahhh finally i finished part four. this was so hard for no reason

read part three here!

word count: 1014 words

warnings: slight angst?

⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ୭ৎ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚

i looked up from my phone when i heard knocking on my front door. i paused my movie and got up, knowing exactly who was at the door. i walked down my stairs and opened the door, seeing matt already biting his nails.

“why weren’t you answering your phone?” he said, relieved to see me in one piece.

“i didn’t feel like it.” i said, turning around and walking back into my house, knowing he was going to invite himself in no matter what.

“y/n please. what is going on? you’ve been off all day.” he pleaded with me, following me into my kitchen.

“i’ve been off? what about you and how you’ve been acting since nick walked into your room this morning?” i retort, starting to get angry with him. he’s done nothing but ignore me all day, only taking time to say something to me when it’s convenient for him. on his terms. 

“y/n..” matt pleaded.

“no i don’t wanna hear it,” i snapped, “you do this every time something between us ever happens and i’m sick of it.”

“i’m sorry, okay?” he yelled, throwing his hands up and into his hair. 

“for what? for ignoring me all day or acting like you like me?” i yelled back, immediately turning around so he couldn’t see the tears forming in my eyes. 

he stayed quiet, and when i turned to look at him, he was on his way out the door. 

once the door closed behind him, i sighed, unable to stop the tears falling. i shouldn’t have let myself believe that he could ever want me. 

i collected myself and went back to my room, hoping that watching my movie would take my mind off what had just happened. i grabbed my phone, going into matt’s contact. i stared at it, debating on texting or calling him. after a while, i threw my phone across my bed, paying attention to the movie playing. i ended up falling asleep half way through it.

i woke up to my phone ringing. i ignored it, thinking it was matt calling me. it rang again and i picked it up, seeing it was nick calling me. 

“hello?” i answered, still half asleep.

“do you have any idea why matt is all pissy?” nick asked immediately.

“i don’t know, he came over ‘cause i wasn’t getting his calls since my phone died on my way home,” i lied, hoping he wouldn’t see through it, “he seemed pissy when he got here though.”

nick groaned before replying, “we were supposed to film a wednesday video but he hasn’t come out of his room and is ignoring me and chris.”

i felt bad, knowing this was partially my fault. “i don’t know, i’m sorry.” i said, grabbing my remote and turning off my tv.

“no it’s fine, i was just wondering if you knew anything.” nick said before saying goodbye and hanging up.

i stared at my ceiling, wondering what was wrong with him. i couldn’t stop my mind from telling me that maybe he does have some sort of feelings for me. 

i grabbed my phone and started drafting a text to matt.

‘can we talk? i’m sorry’ i stared at the text, debating on sending it or not. my thumb hovered over send before deleting the message. i threw my phone down and decided to go grab some food. 

i open my fridge, finding some grapes i had just bought and put some in a bowl. i walked over to the couch and sat down, thinking about the conversation between me and matt. i regretted what i said, overthinking it way too much. 

what if what i said made him think i had feelings for him? i thought about what nick said about matt. what if he felt the same? 

i saw a car, similar to matt’s, outside my house. it couldn’t be his, especially not with the way we left things. 

i heard a knock on my door. i got up, my heart racing as i go answer the door.

“look i don’t want to leave things how we did, and again you aren’t answering you’re phone. god why can’t you just answer your damn phone,” matt pushes through me, clearly out of breath.

“my phone is in my room..” i trailed off, letting him continue his rant. i followed him into my room, he grabbed my phone and handed it to me.

“i’ve texted you about fifteen times, called you three times. you worry me,” he looked at me softly, “please. just keep your phone with you.”

“i’m sorry.” i mumbled, grabbing my phone and looking down at all the notifications from matt. i couldn’t understand why he seemed to care so much, considering just that morning he was ignoring me.

“it’s okay, just- i don’t know” he shook his head, turning to leave.

“wait, why don’t you stay?” i asked him, wanting to hang out with him.

“yeah?” he chuckled, clearly seeing how much i wanted to be in his company.

i walked to my kitchen, grabbing drinks for us out of the fridge. i heard him behind me and before he could get too close, i turned around reaching one of the waters i grabbed towards him. as much as i wanted a repeat of last night, i couldn’t let it happen. if it was going to end even slightly close to that, i’d rather walk into oncoming traffic. 

we made our way to my living room, getting comfy on my couch. i felt matt try to get closer, i inched away slightly, not wanting to let myself get close to him again. he moved back to his original seat, not wanting to push anything.

“are we gonna watch anything?” matt asked, looking over at me.

“i mean what else do we ever do,” i grabbed the remote, turning the tv in and going into netflix.

i put on some comedy show, one of matt’s favorites. i grabbed my phone and text nick, letting him know matt was at my house.

tag list

@beersangel @whoseyouare @wh0schl0 @st7rnioioss @slutsformatt @h3arts4harry @matthewscherrypie @satvisfavetoodles @secret-sturniolo @mattsturniololoverr @blablablabla2525 @melanch0lybby @always-reading @bbernard-03 @matthewsturniolosgirlfriend101 @sleepysturnss @edgemaster696 @strnilolo @engene28 @mattspolitank @ribread03 @veysxrge @bernardsgf @syn-wr1tes @realuvrrr @sturniolo0ntop @chrisstopherfilmed2 @sturniol0s @pinklittleflower @sturniluvr

[pagelets]

Collide- P.S

Synopsis: in which Park Sunghoon falls for his maknae’s girlfriend.

DISCLAIMER: nsfw, contains smut!!

Inspired by:

Fever by Enhypen & Collide by Justine Skye

우정에 대한 이야기 (A story about friendship)

Sunghoon couldn't remember the last time he hated himself as much as he did now. In fact, he could, it was during his figure skating era and he hated himself each time he made a mistake and fell instead of completing the movement correctly. Or when he was a trainee and he messed up something even after repeating over and over again. But those things, they were nothing compared to how much of a piece of shit he thought he was at that moment. Sitting at a bar stool, champagne glass in one hand, watching Ni-ki cuddle with his not- that- secret-anymore girlfriend. Ni-ki stopped to hide when Jake walked into the maknae’s room and saw what he described as ‘there is a girl on top of our Ni-ki’. A girl that Sunghoon couldn’t stop thinking about for the past 16 months.

They were in the middle of the Sound of Prada, Ni-ki was sitting on a bench and she stood up in front of him, his hands were holding her hips and the both of them were exhaling the rotten essence of love. Ugh, disgusting. But if it was so disgusting, why was he wishing he was his maknae? Damn. He huffed and started to trip into his own thoughts, reminiscing the first time they met. He was with Ni-ki, in fact, and for what he could tell, they fell in love almost instantly:

Flashback:

“Hey, Ni-ki” Sughoon said casually while standing at the Japanese man’s door frame. He knew Ni-ki couldn’t hear him, cause he had his headset on and he was playing some game on his PS5, but even so he repeated “Ni-ki”. Still, no response. So as the very patient man Park Sughoon is, he sighed and walked into the bedroom, pushing the headset down on the maknae’s head. He paused the game immediately and turned around, ready to offend the asshole who had done that, but then he remembered he lived with 3 older men, so he wasn’t very allowed to call any of them an asshole, even though they were sometimes. “Hoon… what’s up bro?” “I’m going to a recital, do you want to join me?” “What kind of recital?” “A music recital” “Like an orchestra?” Sunghoon nodded “Yeah, it sounds sick. Let me change clothes and we can go” “Ok. Lemme know when you’re ready” “What about you? Are you going like that?” the Korean man chuckled, sarcastically “Heck no, Ni-ki. Heck no”. Half an hour later, the both of them looked like they had come out of a MIB movie.They had full black suits and they exhaled hotness. Cause that’s what they were. Fucking hot. And they were completely aware of that. On they way there, Ni-ki asked “Hyung, why are we going to a music recital?” “Because…” he gulped “... I like music?” Niki arrowed his eyes and thought for a second, ignoring Sughoon hesitance to answer him, then he nodded in acknowledge “Hun, that's right, isn't it?” Sunghoon nodded “Yeah”. But the truth was, Sunghoon had attended that same recital for the first time 4 nights before that one, thanks to Jay, who invited him. Then the night after with Heeseung and Jungwoon, and the night after with Sunoo and Jake, and now for the 4th night with Ni-ki. And for as much as he actually enjoyed the music, that wasn't the reason why he attended the event once again. On that first night, in the middle of the crowd, he found a red spot. A lady, wearing a velvet red dress, which showed her clavicles and shoulder, exposed her white silk skin. She had her hair tied up on a classy bun and wore fine jewelry. She was like the lost princess the ice prince had been looking for all those years. But she was more like a fire princess, wearing red, making him burn inside. He had to see her again. He had to see her face, not only her side profile. He had to know her name, hold her hand, listen to the sound of her voice, know what her favorite movie and meal were. He had to. But how? The only solution he found was to come back and maybe, just maybe run into her again. Ni-ki knew Sunghoon had invited the other hyungs to that same recital for 3 days in a row. But none of them could tell why. Ni-ki bet with the other 5, that Sunghoon had a crush on a musician. Jay opined that Sunghoon was being just emotional about the music but he couldn't admit it. So, there was Ni-ki, trying to find out why Hoon was so obsessed with that recital and win the bet. 

Sunghoon looked around the whole time. The symphony filled his ears, he already knew it from back to front. Ni-ki, fortunately, was so absorbed into the music that he didn't notice Hoon’s dispersal. He was already tired, while he was getting ready earlier he decided that after that night he wasn't going to look out for her anymore. ‘If it was meant, it was going to happen tonight.’ he told himself while he looked at himself in the mirror. Now sitting in that auditorium, listening to the same symphony for the 4th time in a role, he was already willing to give up. But then, he saw her. The beautiful fire princess. Now, wearing a white silk dress, with pearls on her  neck  and ears, like a snow princess. Oh, how much he wanted to take that dress from her, to slip ear till he swallowed the damn pearl… It was his chance, he needed to talk to her, get her name, or number, or social media or address, anything. He needed her.  So for the rest of the recital he didn't take his eyes from her, he couldn't let her slip away again. And after everyone stood up and finished the ovation, and her body started to move along with the crowd reaching for the exit, Sunghoon just followed her, noticing a little after that had lost his friend Ni-ki but he didn't have time for it, he just tried to follow along the crowd to meet his beloved. And as the spell turned against the wizard, he had lost her when we quickly turned to apologize to an old lady for stepping on her feet. 

She didn't get too far for him, she just went to the bathroom. When she was walking out of the bathroom and a lot of people were still heading to the front door, she tried to follow along again, but a very rude couple pushed her against the wall and she tripped on her stiletto shoes, twisting her ankle. “Auch!” She tried to get away from the wall and walk outside so she could find her group of friends and get some help, but her ankle was still fragile and at the moment she took her hand out of the wall, she knew she was going to fall. And she would have had it if it wasn't the pair of big hands that held her. She felt like she could bury her head into a hole cause of the embarrassment but she turned back to at least thank her savior. “Oh my God, that's so embarrassing…” she looked at his face and nothing else mattered. He was so handsome, and gentle, he was holding her with such a soft touch, then his smile, she caught herself holding her breath like she would die if he let her go. Their eyes were locked like if they weren’t the world would end right there. “Hey… I’m Ni-ki” she smiled “Hi, Ni-ki. It’s a pleasure to meet you” “Pleasure is all mine. Let's find somewhere so you can sit”. He guided her, helping her to find a bench so he could rest her ankle, then he let her go. He squatted next to her to help her take the shoe off and watched her while she massaged her own ankle.“Thank you” “I saw what they did to you, not cool” “People are very rude nowadays, right?” ‘Yes” they kept silent for a few seconds.“Did you enjoy the recital?” she said “Yes! It was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard… I mean, it was until I heard your voice” she blushed, then looked at her feet and giggled “Thank you. You’ve a beautiful voice too. Very strong, very deep, very…”

she looked down to lock eyes with him again and it felt like she couldn’t breathe anymore again “... beautiful. Just as you are” she said with the oxygen left in her lungs. Now it was time for him to blush “The most beautiful girl I ever see is calling me beautiful, I think I did right not staying at home tonight” she smiled “I think we both did”. They kept in silence, like two shy kids, then Sunghoon, who was confusingly watching the scene from some distance, approached them and cleaned his throat to catch their attention “Oh, hi!” Ni-ki stood up and turned to her “Hum… this is my hyung, Sunghoon” she stretched her hand to him “Nice to meet you. Are you brothers or just friends?” “You don’t…” she blinked “You don’t know…” Ni-ki poked his hyung arm “Yes! We are friends” “Oh, alright! You look younger than Ni-ki, so I thought you were” “We have almost the same height…” “Yeah, but he looks more mature, you know?” his lips parted, she was right but he didn’t know what to say anymore. Her started to beep, she looked at it knowing it was time for for to leave them “My friends are looking for me, I must go now, but it was nice to meet you Ni-ki” their eyes locked again “...and Sughoon, of course” “Can I… can I ask you something crazy?” “Yes! Whatever it’s, the answer is yes”

“Really?” he smirked “Really” “What if I asked you to marry in Vegas?” “I’m down for it” they laughed “Actually, I was just going to ask for your number if that’s ok. But, yeah, Vegas is nice too” she bit her bottom lip and asked for his phone with innocent eyes, which he gave to her at light speed. “There it is. Use it with responsibility” “I will. Thank you” he bowed lightly “Good night, Ni-ki. Thanks again for your help” she bowed as well “It was nothing. Good night” “Bye bye, Sunghoon” she said, already stepping away from them “Bye…”. 

Later that night, in the car back to the dorm Ni-ki could swear life was pink. He turned to Sunghoon and confessed “Bro, guess I met the girl of my dreams tonight” Ni-ki said, leaning his head on the car’s window. ‘Heck nah. The girl of my dreams, you meant’, Hoon thought. “Really?” he said with an uninterested air “Yes, she’s my destiny” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, and silently leaned his head on the window too. What the fuck happened with his plan? 

Present time:

Fuck! He hated it so much! He didn’t know if he hated himself more for letting her slip away or for talking about Ni-ki’s height when he had the chance to talk to her. If he could go back in time, he would never have invited Ni-ki to that recital, he would have invited Heesung instead, he would never do what Ni-ki did… Or would? Actually, he would go all by himself like he usually did and, when he got to meet her, and make her fall in love with him, he would never let his mates breathe the same air she did. He loved them, of course, but at the end of the day they all were men and men like to stare at and flirt with pretty and nice and perfect girls like her. He should have predicted that. After that damn recital, it didn’t take much more than a month for them to start dating. It had been 14 months already and since then, she was everywhere. He asked the universe for her back then but now he was begging for it to take her off his life at least if she still was with Ni-ki. 

He wandered for a few minutes, lost in his own thoughts and when he came back to reality, he saw her walking in his direction. She had some kind of magnetic aura coming out from her, she was walking only and even so he couldn't take his eyes from her figure or keep his jaw in place. She had that power over him “Good night, Hoonie” and yes, she called him Hoonie and yes, he let her “Night” he looked away from her, then sipped his drink “Where is the boyfriend?” “He went to look out for his Jay hyung’” “And you didn't want to join him?” “No” “Thought you liked Jay” “I do. But I wanted to talk to you” “What have I done?” “Nothing, bro. We're friends, did you forget that?”. Since she was with Ni-ki almost all his free time, she was with him almost all his free time as well, which caused them to grow close too “I did not…” he said in a low tone “How are you? You are stuck in this corner almost all night. You and your champagne glass” “She is my companion tonight” she laughed “I’m fine. Just needed to be alone for a bit” “Do you want me to leave?” “No!” he held her wrist lightly “Please, don't” she smiled “Ok, I stay” “You know…” she turned to him “Hum?” “I have been feeling kinda lonely lately” “You!?” He nodded “What if you tried to find a girlfriend? Or boyfriend, I don't know” “Girlfriend. And no, thank you” “Why not!? You're handsome and funny and gentle, you wouldn't have trouble finding one” “I’m an anti romantic. You know” “Yeah, but I don't actually believe in that bullshit” “Why not?” “I see how you look at me and Ni-ki” “How do I look at you and Ni-ki?” “Like you wanted the same” he chuckled, she was right, he did want the same. The same girl. “You know what? I think you are right” “See?? I can help you find a girlfriend if you want to” “Really?” “Absolutely” “So if I describe the girl I want, can you find her for me?” “I can try”. He sipped his drink again, thinking how much ironic and funny it was “Ok, check it out” she grinned, excited like a child “Alright, let's go” “She has to be a brunette” she nodded

“Her hair must be wavy, almost curly” “Alright” “Her skin must be pale as snow, and she has to be shorter than me” “How short?” he indicated the line right under his chin “Like here short” it was the same height as hers without heels “Ok, what else?” “She has to dress well, like in a way that exhales her femininity” “And about her personality?” “A girl who loves her job and works very hard and passionate for it. Plus she must be gentle, and carrying, and, of course, has to love me. She also needs to let me take care of her, because that's everything I’m going to do for the rest of my life being by her side” she blinked “Wow! That was deep” she took a deep breath, Sunghoon has this power to be hypnotizing “Imagine if you weren't an anti romantic” “You’d be dead on the floor right now” she chuckled “I know. But you have a good taste for girls. Almost like you were describing myself” ‘I was describing you’ he thought. “I want a charming girl, it's not my fault that you are very charming” she smiled “Thanks, Hoonie. I will keep my eyes open” “Yeah, me too”. Suddenly, she grabbed his hand “Come on!” And started to pull him to the dance floor “Where are we going?” “We are going to dance” “But what about my companion?” “I will be your companion for the rest of the night now” she didn't know the power her words had on him “ok” he muttered “And leave the champagne” he laughed, wanting to tell her that he didn’t need anyone or anything else if she was with him. 

…

A month later:

Sunghoon had woken up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, but when he was going back to his room, he heard the sound of something breaking coming from Ni-ki’s room. The door was half opened and Hoon couldn’t help but take a  look to see if his roommate was ok. When he took a step back and looked inside he saw a lamp on the floor and… a drunk Ni-ki? “The fuck…” he muttered before pushing the door open “Ni-ki, are you good?”. The japanese man was sitting on his bed, fiddling with his commitment ring on his ring finger, looking down at his cell phone on the floor next to his feet. When he heard Hoon’s voice, he looked up and the hyung could see tears on his face. Even so, he smiled, probably due to the alcohol “‘Sup, Hoon?” Sunghoon didn’t think twice before stepping into the room “Are you crying!? Did you get hurt!?” Ni-ki nodded “Lemme see your hands” he grabbed Ni-ki’s hands and inspected them, searching for cuts from the broken lamp, but he couldn’t find any “But…” “Here” Ni-ki placed his left hand on his chest “I got hurt in here” “How… Did you get into a fight!?” Ni-ki nodded again “Take off your shirt, then!” he was clearly preoccupied with the younger one and he couldn’t be more confused when Ni-ki didn’t move a single muscle except for his lips, then chuckled with bitterness in his act “You’re not getting that, are you?” “I… Just tell me what the heck is going on!” Sunghoon bursted in anxiety. Ni-ki looked up, slowly, and Hoon could see the pain in his eyes “We broke up”, then his voice got weak, and he succumbed to tears again, burying his face on Sughoon’s belly. He let his hand meet Ni-ki’s head and caressed it, softly “I… I’m sorry”. The Korean man was in shock, how could the thing he wanted the most to be the one breaking his heart in a million pieces? Seeing his friend in that state was heartbreaking, he knew that if Ni-ki wasn’t drunk, and he definitely was, Sunghoon could smell it, he would never let anyone see him like that. Which only made Hoon feel even dirtier, Ni-ki was there being vulnerable and even so, a bit of happiness lighted up into Sughoon’s core and he knew the hate he felt for himself couldn’t be bigger. “Let it all out, mate. Let it all out”, he said to the maknae. When Ni-ki calmed down and fell asleep, Hoon came back to his bedroom but he couldn’t sleep at all, he asked for that, he asked for her to be taken out of Ni-ki's life and now he was happy that she was single?! No. That was enough. He was going to forget about her. He needed to forget about her.

…

4 months later:

Jay felt like a boyfriend. A boyfriend who is sick of waiting for his girlfriend to visit all the shopping mall’s stores “Sunghoon! I have been here for 2 hours already! Will you try all the clothes in the store!?” the other man stepped out of the changing room “You can't rush perfection, you know?” Jay rolled his eyes “I’m leaving you” “Come on! Just 30 minutes more. Go get you an ice cream” he took a card from his wallet “It’s on me” Jay looked at the card in between Sunghoon’s fingers and grabbed it “30 minutes only” “Ok. See you” “See you” Jay said, already walking away from the department store. Sunghoon looked at himself in the mirror once more before getting into the changing room again when he saw a girl in the mirror’s reflection “Is that…” he looked in the girl’s direction “Fire princess”. During the 4 months since the break up, Sunghoon focused on making Ni-ki happy and healed, it was all that mattered and they made great progress. All of them. Ni-ki was feeling less sad lately, 2 months ago he heard from Heeseung that she was trying to move on with her life as well and Sunghoon, well, he stopped thinking about her. Till now, when her frame was mere centimeters from him. He got so shocked, he couldn’t take his eyes from her, which was a bad thing cause she felt observed and looked into her stalker’s direction, crossing gazes with him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Maybe she will just ignore him, he and Ni-ki and the whole enhypen were past for her, right? Wrong. Cause she lipped smiled to him and waved, lightly. He waved back. weirdly, mouthing her a “hey”, and in another moment she was walking in his direction “Sunghoon… hi” she said, her melodic voice filled his ears once again, damn it have been so long “Hi… how… have you been?” “I’m good! I mean, I am feeling better each day, little by little” “That’s good news”

“Yeah. How about you?” “I’m fine. Ni-ki’s fine too” why are you talking about Ni-ki, Park Sunghoon? Why? She didn’t ask about him, she asked about you, he thought. “Oh! It’s good to know. I wish him the best” “And he wishes the best to you” she smiled, politely “I miss you” “Me?!” “Yes. I got used to having you around” “Let’s do something, then” “Yeah, let’s do it! Wanna catch up on a movie?” “Sure! When?” “What about tomorrow night? Or are you busy?” “I… No! I’m not. Let’s do this” “Alright” “Text me later?” “Sure” “Ok. See you tomorrow, then” “See you” she smiled and walked away. He watched her leave and when she was far enough, he let out the air he didn’t know he was holding. He was going to need to lie to Ni-ki.

…

Half an hour later Sunghoon and Jay were walking back to the dorm with snow cones in one hand and bags in the other. “Jay” “Yeah” “Can I confide in you something?” “Sure” “But you can’t tell anyone about it” “I know what confidence is” “But you must keep it from the guy too” “Ok…” “I ran into Ni-ki’s ex today” “Really? How is she?” “Good. We…” “You what?” “Are going out tomorrow night” “Like on a date?!” “No! As friends” “What’s the big deal with that?” “Don’t you remember what happened when Ni-ki found out that Heeseung went to Blackpink’s concert with her 2 months ago?” Ni-ki got very angry and tried to punch Heeseung on the face multiple times:

Flashback:

When Heeseung walked into the dorm door was already past 2am. He was slightly high for the beers he drank and for the adrenaline pumping in his veins. He was trying hos best to not wake anyone but Ni-ki, Ni-ki was awake already, waiting for his hyung to give him some explanations “Ni-ki! You scared me, bro” the younger kept silent “What are you doing?” “What are you doing?” “Sneaking in without letting anyone know?” “Seems you failed already” Hee chuckled “I agree. You should get some sleep tho” “I will as soon as you help me to understand” “Understand what?” “Why is she posting pictures with you on her instagram?” “Oh! You know…” “Didn't it occur to you that I will see the pictures?” “I didn't think about that…”  “Well, now you explain yourself, yeah?” Hee was already irritated with his arrogance “I’m your hyung, I don't need to explain myself to you” Ni-ki chuckled, bitter and walked closer to Heeseung “We're talking about my girlfriend” “Ex girlfriend” why on Earth would you say something like that Lee Heeseung? Why? he asked himself. Ni-ki closed his hands, his jaw tensed and without thinking too much, Ni-ki’s fist tried to hit Heeseung’s left cheek. Luckily, Hee’s reflexes were good and he squatted almost instantly “Ni-ki! What are you doing?!” “Just because she is my ex-girlfriend that means you can have her now?” “What?! No! We're friends!” “Friends my ass” the japanese’s fist flew over Heeseung's head again, this time the older man had to bend to the left “Ni-ki! Stop trying to hit me!” “Stay away from her” another failed hit “Jay! Sunghoon!” Heeseung called them cause or he asked for help or he would have to knock Ni-ki down and he really didn’t want to do that. The 2 friends went out of their rooms like a flash and the first thing they came across was their hyung trying to dodge from a possessed Ni-ki but getting stuck in the corner of the room. Sunghoon wrapped his arms around Ni-ki’s waist and Jay stood in front of the maknae, blocking his way to Heeseung “Ni-ki, stop!” Hoon said using all his strength to stop his friend “Let me go!” “No!” “Let me go or you will be the next!” he threatened Hoon “Not happening”

“What’s going on here?” Jay asked, still protecting Heeseung’s shrunken body on the floor. “He’s going out with my girlfriend!” “You what?!” Jay and Sunghoon said in unison, looking at the older man “She invited me to go to Blackpink’s concert AS FRIENDS!” “I don’t fucking swallow your bullshit” they looked at Ni-ki again, eyes widened “Don’t talk like that to him, he is our hyung” Sunghoon remembered, tightening the grip on Ni-ki’s waist and cementing his feet on he floor “Hold on! You said girlfriend, does that mean you guys are back together?” Jay asked, hopeful. At that moment Sunghoon felt Ni-ki’s strength and effort getting weak. “Come on, Sunghoon….” Ni-ki said, avoiding Jay’s question “... let me go” his voice disappeared and the tears started to roll down his face. Sunghoon unwrapped his arm from Ni-ki’s waist and pulled him for a hug “Come here”. Jay helped Heeseung to stand up “Are you ok, man?” “Yeah”, then they joined the hug. When Ni-ki calmed down he turned to his hyungs and bowed “I’m so sorry guys. Especially to you, Heesehung hyung. I’m so sorry, I just miss her so much” “It’s ok, Ni-ki. Let’s just forgive and forget” he squeezed the younger’s shoulder “Ok” “Now shall we all get some sleep, yeah?” “Yeah” the other 3 agreed with their hyung and each of them went to their room.

…

Back to present time:

 “Yeah. You’re right. It’s better to keep it a secret” Sunghoon agreed with Jay “I don’t agree with that but I don’t see another option. I mean, Ni-ki was the one who she broke up with, not me, or Heeseung or Jake or you, you know what I mean?” “I see. But I don’t think Ni-ki is a bad person, he is just still grieving, you know?” “I think so” “But, hey, I got your back. Go see your friend in peace. Just don't fucking post any pictures” “Thanks, Jongseong” Jay tapped Hoon’s shoulder, then squeezed it lightly “Those snow cones are actually very good, aren't they?” Sunghoon nodded “Yeah. My tongue is blue, tho” Jay laughed and they engaged into a completely random conversation.

…

The night after:

The movie night was good. Even though Sunghoon couldn’t pay much attention to it cause he was busy reminding why he fell in love with that girl for the first time. She was simply stunning. Her hair was light brown, and wavy, her skin was pale as snow, her eyes were wide like cherry pie, instead of an iris, she had hazel and golden circles. She had a mole under her left eye, and she smelled like vanilla and expensive champagne. Her western accent was the cutest thing he ever heard. And as much as he tried, for an hour only though, he simply couldn’t be only friends with her. He needed more. It was late at night and he offered to walk her back to her place, she was talking about her university, she was an exchange music student in Seoul but he just couldn’t pay attention. She took him out of his trance when she asked him about the guys “They are good. They miss you” she smiled “I miss them too. I talked to Heeseung for the last time 2 months ago, but never again” “He… have been busy” Sunghoon lied “I know about the incident” “Right…” he cleaned his throat “I don’t want to put you in trouble, so I was going to turn your offer down but… I decided to not let the past ruin my present, you know?” she confessed “Yeah. I’m glad we did it tonight” they stopped in front of her building “Yeah, me too” they kept staring at each other “I wish it didn’t have to end” she slipped “Really?” “I don’t. Cause I don’t know when I will see you again, if we see again” “Wanna go for some drinks now?” “Don’t you rather come in and have drinks here? We can play PS as well. I know you don’t want to be seen with me” “It's no like that. I’m just trying to avoid becoming the new Heeseung” “Yeah, yeah, I got you. So…” she said, impatiently “Which drinks are we having?” “Anything you want to. We can buy it at the convenience store” she pointed to the store across the street. He offered his arm to her and she tangled on it like a child. 

A few minutes later they came back to her apartment with Corona beers, green apple soju, gummy bears and some coconut water, for the hangover. They spent the rest of the night playing, laughing and drinking. They probably had way too much soju, cause when they turned the videogame off around 3 am and laid on the floor shoulder to shoulder to watch the moon, Sughoon’s tongue loosened a lot. “Why the heck you and Ni-ki broke up?” “Hum?” “I mean, all that effort for ending like that? It must have been a good reason” “We… argued” “So what? I argued with my sister my whole life, did we stop being siblings? No” “It’s not the same thing” “So how was it?” “It was not the first time we argued over…” she paused “Over what?” “He wanted us to move together” “And you didn't?” “I… well, I did” “I don't get it” “It wasn't going to be good for him. People would criticize and send him hate. I couldn't let it happen so I said to him I didn't want to. So, we argued over it for the thousandth time and I said I couldn’t take it anymore” “Are you stupid or what?” “Sunghoon!” “Fuck the criticism you were in love with each other, wasn’t that reason enough to you?” “People already hated Ni-ki because he likes to tease you guys, imagine for him to have a girlfriend and then leaving the dorm to live with a western”. Sunghoon huffed, “Aish! All that fucking effort over nothing”

“What effort are you talking about?” “To turn my life into hell” “The fuck you are talking about?” “I went to that recital 4 times in a row” “What?” “The recital we met you” “What about it?” “I went 4 nights in a row, hoping I would see you again. And I did. But when I finally could talk to you, Ni-ki was there already, and the both of you were falling in love” she sat up “Why were you looking for me?” “You were my fire princess cause I am the ice prince and you were wearing a red dress the first time I saw you. But you and Ni-ki met before you and me” “There's no way you are being serious about it” “Well, I am! I even described you when you were trying to get me a girlfriend!”. She parted her lips, trying to mumble something, but nothing really went out of her mouth. “Look, forget what I said, I am just…” but before he could finish the phrase she bent down and kissed his lips “...high” but was he that high? He didn't care. He sat up, grabbed her waist and gently pinned her down on the floor to get his body hovering over her, then deepened the kiss. Her hands went to his hair, pulling it as a response to the electricity he was giving to her through the kiss. Sunghoon’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her blouse up, earning a moan from the cold touch of the Korean's hand sliding up her belly, touching her covered boob. “Hoonie, take it off” she muttered, he stopped kissing her, and widened his eyes “The hand?” “No! The shirt”

“Oh! Ok. Lemme know if you're uncomfortable” “Yeah, yeah, yeah, now shut up” then she pulled him to glue their lips again. Hoon ripped the blouse off her then made her sit to straddle his lap, pulling her hips down to collide with his hips. She whined as she felt his bulge under his pants and underwear, lightly grinding on him, to get some friction. She was desperate for friction, she didn't sleep with anyone for 4 months and 17 days. That was surreal for Hoon, even a small whine from her was freaking surreal for him, to be very honest he never thought she and Ni-ki were going to break up, so sleeping with her was never a possibility, only in his dreams. But back to reality, he ran his hands up to unclip her bra and free her perfectly shaped and soft boobs, squeezing one with his left hand and sucking the right one, earning another moan from her. She gripped on his hair and cursed “Fuck” “Do you like it?” he asked in a low, sexy tone “Yes” she muttered “Would you like more?” “Yes, please” he smirked, laying her down on the floor again, and worked to take her blue ripped jeans off along with her panties. Then, he opened her legs, to put his head in between her thighs. Oh, he dreamed of being crushed by them so many times. Sunghoon smirked at the thrust movement of her hip “Chill out, babygirl” he teased, then merciless, licked from her entrance to her clit and stood there, sucking, licking, bitting for a few minutes, each of these minutes were filled with a delicious moan from her, till Hoon felt she tightening up, she was close to cum. So he stopped, he needed her to cum around him. “Why did you stop?” she whined “Need you around me now” she smirked “Take your clothes off, then” “I will…” he climbed her body till his lips met her neck , leaving a wet kiss on it “...in a minute” she hummed “... but let me know first…” he moved his lips to her ear and whispered, “...how do you like it the most?” “All 4” she blushed “Are you blushing?” “Just shut up and get naked!” he laughed, he definitely didn’t expect to listen to it, like never “Ok”. Hoon stood up and ripped off his shirt, then pants and underwear, never breaking eye contact with her. He also grabbed a condom from his wallet, he didn’t want things to get even messier than already was. After wrapping his dick, he hovered his body over her again and whispered in her ear “Hands and knees, angel”, she smirked and obeyed. Soon he was aligned with her entrance “Are you ready for me?” “Yes, God, yes” she begged, and he gave her what she wanted, what they both wanted. As Hoon entered her, the 2 of them let a long, low, moan out. It was the only low sound for the rest of the act cause from that point on, her moans and his groans got louder with each thrust of Sunghoon. The sound of skin colliding against the other made them even more turned on, they were going to reach their orgasms soon, he could tell. But, then, she said something that fucked up everything “Damn! It feels so good, Nik”. She said Nik. Nik. Not only Ni-ki’s name but her intimate nickname for him. Instantly, Hoon rushed his pace to cum even more soon, he just wanted to get over with that. “Hoonie…” she moaned but he pushed her head against the fluffy carpet to muff her voice, it was too late to call out the right guy. When he did cum, he got out of her and rushed his way to the bathroom to discard the condom “Hoonie!” but he ignored her “Hold on, Hoon!” she sat on the floor, wrapping the blanket she had on the couch around her body. When he came back to the room, he started to dress up, still ignoring her “Hoon?” he hummed “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” “Oh, you didn’t mean it? Good! That makes me feel good again” he exploded in sarcasm “You don’t have to be rude” “I think I have this right at the moment” “No, you don’t” “You just called me Ni-ki!” “I’m just used to having sex with him!” “No, cut that shit! It didn’t happen cause of a habit, it happened cause you were clearly thinking about him. Weren’t you?” she couldn’t say anything.

Anything would denounce that Hoon was right and she would feel even more horrible for kissing Sunghoon, having sex with him and calling him Ni-ki. Some tears bloomed in her eyes and all her weak voice could say was “Hoonie… I’m so so sorry”. He chuckled sarcastically, then finished unbuttoning his pants “I’m out of here”, then she left her alone in her apartment, crying and feeling as much shit as Sunghoon was. It’s true when people say nothing good happens at 3 am.

…

The next day:

Hoon looked at the gap in Ni-ki’s door. He was playing some game on the PS5 and listening to Heartbreak Anniversary by Giveon. 

“Just like the day that I met you,

the day  thought forever.

Said that you love me, but that’ll last for never

It’s cold outside,

like when you walked out of my life

Why you walk out of my life?

I get like this every time

On these days that feel like you and me

Heartbreak anniversary

Cause I remember every time

On these days feel like you and me

Heartbreak anniversary,

do you ever think of me?”

Some tears dropped from his eyes and he wasn’t even paying attention to the game anymore. The Korean man felt a knot on his throat and an ache on his heart. He pushed the door open “Ni-ki san” the japanese man wiped his face with his hands, and paused the game “Hey…” “Are you ok?” “Yeah…” “Why are you crying, then?” “I am not” “I saw you crying” “You didn’t” “Yes, I did” “Is… just that song” “Is a very sad song, isn’t it?” “Yes… It reminds me of her” “Do you miss her?” “Not everyday like it happened before, but yes” Sunghoon swallowed hard before asking the following question “Do you… still love her?” Ni-ki nodded “I do, yes. I think I will love her for the rest of my life” “So would you come back together with her?” “If we got in an agreement, yes” they kept silent, then Hoon broke it with a chuckle “Why are you laughing at?” “I just realized the song” Ni-ki let a small chuckle out “The first video we made always makes me laugh. That way you glued your face in ours, is so funny” “Yeah, Heeseung hyung with that blanket is very funny too” “Yeah… Hey, Ni-ki” “Hum?” “I’m glad you are opening up. Sober. Are you sober, right?” “I am” “I am happy you’re doing it” Ni-ki chuckled “Yeah. Thanks for listening” “Anytime you need” “You know, I’m very lucky to have you in my life. You and the rest of the guys. Thank you for taking care of me”. Sunghoon felt a mixture of happiness, love and guilt “Aish! You’re going to make me cry” Ni-ki smiled “It’s ok, I won’t tell anyone”, the older man smiled then he felt his phone vibrate on his pocket. He grabbed it and took a quick look, she was texting him:

‘Hey… can we meet?’

 “Hum, I… I’ll let you play” “Alright. Just.one more thing hyung” “Yeah?” “I never got to know why you were so obsessed with that recital” “What do you mean?” “We all know you attended 4 nights in a role” “Oh! I was just enjoying going out with my friends“ “You're so cute” “Aish! Cut that off” Ni-ki smiled “I will let you go now” “Ok. See you, Ni-ki” “See you, hyung”. 

As soon as he was out of Ni-ki’s room, Sunghoon grabbed his phone to answer to her, he was still mad with her but he wanted to fix things:

‘When and where?’

‘At the park near my house when you’re free’

‘I’m on my way’

‘Ok’

…

At the park:

They met near the swings, they were sitting on it lightly swinging back and forth, he was waiting for her to say something. “I want to make amends” she finally broke the silence “Are we fighting?” “You know we are not ok” “Why wouldn’t we? It’s not like you called me another man's name. Oh, wait! You did” “Aaaah, Sunghoon! Why are you making such a big deal out of it!?” “Wouldn’t you make a big deal out of it if it was the opposite?” “I don’t know! I’m not making it right now” “Really? I didn’t notice it” “Fuck! Why are you so mad at me!?” “You called Ni-ki’s name when we were having sex!” “I already said I’m sorry! You know what? It was a mistake” “How could you make a mistake like that?” “Have sex with you…. Was the mistake” “Oh!” “Come on, I know you agree. Are you mad at me or at yourself?” And she was right, she wasn't the problem there, he was. “I’m sorry” “I’m sorry too. Can we just pretend it never happened? I don't tell anyone, you don't tell anyone and we forget about it” he wasn't going to forget about it. Even so, he nodded “Good!” She ran her fingers through her hair locks “Do you still love him?” “Hoon… it doesn't matter” “Yes, it does” she huffed “Yeah, I think I do” “Ok” “Do you still like me?” “It doesn't matter” “Hoon” “Yes, I think I do” she smiled,softly “Maybe we shouldn't see each other anymore, right?” “That's probably the smarter thing to do” “I don't like it” “Me neither” he stood up, then approached her and caressed her face “Would you come back with Ni-ki?” “Why are you torturing yourself like that?” “Just answer to me” “I would consider it” he just nodded and pulled her for a hug “Come here, I’m going to miss you” “Me too, Hoonie”. ‘Hoonie’, it was the last time he heard that.

…

A few weeks later:

Ni-ki and Hoon were having breakfast together when Hoon decided to start a conversation “Guess who I ran into these days” “Who?” “Your ex” Ni-ki stopped chewing his cereal and looked at his hyung “Oh!” then he mixed the chocolate balls with the milk “How…” he cleaned his throat, so his voice got deep again “How is she?” “She looks fine. She says she misses you” “Did she?” “Yes. She also said to me to tell you that you should text her someday” “Really?” “Yeah. Is that weird?” “A little, she said to not look out for her anymore” “Guess she changed her mind” Ni-ki nodded “That's possible” “Will you text her?” “I don't know…” “What?!” “I mean, maybe I will” “Maybe?” “Yeah, maybe” but the both of them knew he was going to text her “Ok” Sunghoon smirked and turned his attention back to the tv show they were watching.

…

3 days later:

3 days later Ni-ki texted her and they agreed to go out to talk. They end the day laying on the grass of the park near her house, stargazing and talking about the future. She opened up to Ni-ki about the reason why she didn’t want to move in together and he said he understand her, he also thanked her for caring so much about him and they promised to each other to be more open and honest about their feelings and, of course, they ended the night with a passionate kiss and their ring fingers got their commitment ring back. Even tho, Ni-ki already thought about buying a new pair, to represent their new compromise to each other.

When she got into her apartment, all alone and exhaling happiness, she grabbed her phone and tappen Sunghoon’s contact, leaving him a voicemail:

‘Hi, it's Sunghoon!  I can't answer you right now so leave your message and I’ll listen when I can. Bye!’

Beep…

‘Hoonie? Hi, it's me. “Fire princess”. She giggled awkwardly ‘Hum, I… I wanted to thank you for what you've done.” she fidgeted with her ring. You're a good friend for both Ni-ki and me. I just called to thank you. So…  thank you! Listen to it when you can. Bye!’ 

[elegantlyeva]

I loved the morning story with Scott Miller! Could we possibly see the night before when he made dinner for them? I think that would be super sweet. The dynamic between the two is adorable!

Dinner

a/n: Sorry it took a few days, thank you for requesting lovely <3 

Word Count: 0.8k

Scott knew you’d be tired from your day at work. He got home early—his uncle sent him off after it was a dead day, no tornadoes to be analyzed. While he should, morally, be happy about that, it frustrated him to no end to be set back from work a day because the planet decided to be civil.

Scott felt restless for the first hour. What was he supposed to do? His paperwork was done, you weren’t home, his friends were off somewhere being obnoxious in a bar, and he’d rather not join. Plus, there was genuinely nothing to do for work except wait.

He flinched when the cat you picked up from the streets purred at his leg, but the impulse to kick it was lessening day by day. (You promised Scott it would only be for a few days, but it’s been two weeks.) He was by no means inclined to pet the thing, but he could admit it was cute. Kind of.

He sighed, grabbing the tuna pack you bought and opening it with a grimace at the smell. He placed it down in the small bowl that was now set aside for the “temporary” cat.

After pacing about the house and fixing things that didn’t need to be fixed, he figured if he was going to be home, doing nothing since you were gone, he might as well make dinner.

You could hardly cook, or maybe you just pretended not to because you liked it when he did—Scott couldn’t tell half the time. Still, he couldn’t find a reason not to make dinner. You would both be home for once, and while ordering takeout was appealing, you two had already done that three days in a row.

A couple of hours later, Scott was letting the food cool off when he heard the front door opening and a rather loud bump. When he got there, you were on the floor, looking sheepish.

He stared, a little exasperated, hands on his hips like a disappointed parent. “You’re wearing sneakers and there’s nothing around to trip over,” he grumbled, grabbing your waist to haul you up like you weighed nothing.

The grumbling didn’t faze you, and you shrugged. “You underestimate how easy it is to trip on air,” you said, hugging his torso since he already had his arms wrapped around your waist.

He shook his head, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head with an eye roll. “Right.” it came out dry.

The smell of the food practically levitated you from the front door to the kitchen, and you smiled at him fondly when he trailed after you.

“You cooked.” you teased, but the way you said it made it sound more sickly sweet. He made you your favorite.

“I did,” he said, shrugging a little embarrassed. “I figured you should eat something with actual nutritional value instead of Chinese or pizza again.”

You sat at the counter (he set two places) eagerly and went to try a spoonful, and half moaned at the taste, but your eye caught something that made you grin.

His eyes narrowed when he saw you beam. “What?” he asked roughly, trying to mask his insecurity, thinking the smile was over the food tasting bad.

You lifted your chin toward the direction of the half-eaten food in the cat’s bowl. “You fed him,” you noted, doing your best not to laugh or he’d get that angry look between his eyebrows for the rest of the night.

“It looked hungry,” Scott defended. “Plus, you already bought all that tuna. We need to get rid of it one way or another.”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

Scott sighed, not having it in him to scowl when you looked so happy. “Whatever.”

You got up from your seat at the counter and moved to stand behind him on his own chair, wrapping your arms around his shoulders tightly, pressing a kiss behind his ear, grinning when you felt him relax. “You’re awfully tense for someone who’s been home all day.”

“It’s awful. I’m not even sick. It was such a waste,” he said, the words laced with such scorn that it caused you to snort.

“Most people would be happy to get a day off and still get paid.”

“It would’ve been better if you called out.”

You hummed, taking a hand to brush through his hair. “I took one too many sick days already,” causing Scott to redden. You had taken them after Scott had gotten particularly roughed up after following a storm, Javi having miscalculated how much time he actually had before it would hit the truck.

Scott moved to protest, wanting to say it wasn’t his fault and that he had told you to go to work—he would've been fine in the hospital alone—but you cut him off, pressing your mouth to his to quiet him.

He sighed into the kiss, the words dying on his lips. Until he pulled away to ask, “Well?” You gave him a quizzical look, and he huffed. “The food. Do you like it?”

She rolls her eyes with no real heat, “You could be a house boyfriend” and she meant it. The food was good.