#and i didn't feel like trying to figure it out

[everlastingserenitys]

thinking about robotics nerd!sylus who makes you a special vibrator and asks you to use it in front of him...

"present for you." sylus said, shoving a box in your hands before he stepped back and stared at you with a serious look, watching your reaction intently.

you opened the box and was met with a toy, that was of course a vibrator... but it didn't look like any ordinary vibrator, the design looked pretty and rather...expensive?

"where'd you get it?" you ask, juggling the toy around in your hands, analyzing the design.

"I made it."

oh.

"and I wanted you to test it... to see if it works y'know?" sylus said, well it sounded like a complete lie, there was no way he made it just for you to test it.

"when should I try..."

you stop talking when sylus' large figure shadowed over you, his glasses illuminated a shine that almost flashed you. sylus grabbed the toy from your hand and with his free hand he slid his fingers under the waistband of your pants, lightly tugging at them.

"dont look.." he mumbled, crashing his lips on yours before he slid your pants down, pressing the toy against your clit, rubbing small circles on it before gliding the toy further down, lightly pushing it inside you.

he pulled away and clicked a few buttons and that's when your reaction started to come in.

"hold onto it, and use it." he asked in a low voice, grabbing onto your wrist and placed your hand on the vibrator, once your fingers were locked on the toy he nodded and stepped away, watching you squirm in your spot.

loud moans and pleas filled the room, you didn't expect the vibrator to feel this good.

"how is it, sweetie? did I make it correctly?"

"mmgh–mhm!" you manage to get out, you cant even bring yourself to mutter any words.

"syl–ungh"

"are you close?" he teased, his breath started getting ragged as he continued to watch you pleasure yourself with something he made. he watched your every move, your shaky legs, hands, breath, anything that captivated him.

"dont cum yet, can you hold it in?" he muttered, getting up from his seat, a low groan escaped his lips as he got up. it was obvious he was already aching down there.

you shook your head and dramatically plopped on your knees when you came unexpectedly.

panting on the ground, you slowly pull the vibrator out of you and look at the mess dripping down from it, sylus chuckled and took it from your hand.

"bet ya didn't notice our initials engraved on it."

would it be cooler if the vibrator was shaped like his...haha nvm!!!

[marvelslut16]

My Utah

Pairing: Dr. Frank Langdon x Dr!reader

Synopsis: Reader hears Javadi failing at asking out Mateo, and it takes her back to when she tried asking out Frank when she was a first year resident.

Word count: 1.4k+

Warnings: Mentions of the mass causality event/shooting. Mentions of blood. Mentions death once or twice, nothing too graphic, no one major.

A/N: Couldn't remember what hour the Utah comment happened in, so timeline probably doesn't fit the show exactly. AU where he isn't married, nor does he have the drug issues. Again, not really sure how I feel about this one, I'm still pretty rusty when it comes to writing. But 2 fics in 2 days?!?! Who am I?

“I don’t date people in the workplace,” you hear Mateo responding to Javadi’s stuttering. Poor girl, and when you hear her stutter some more, you take it upon yourself to step in and help Victoria.

“Do you mind if I steal Dr. Javadi from you? I have a patient I want her to help with,” you smile at Mateo, acting like you didn’t hear anything they had been saying. 

“Yeah, of course,” his eyes flick to Victoria, before nodding to you. 

“You seemed like you could use some saving in there,” you laugh lightly once you’re sure Mateo won’t be able to overhear you. 

“My parents once took me skiing for Christmas in Utah and from the moment I got off the plane, I just, I could not catch my breath, no matter how hard I tried. The altitude just made me awkward and uncoordinated. I couldn’t concentrate, I couldn’t get my bearings. And I’m a very good skier, but I just spent the whole vacation, just like, on my butt, dizzy, panting. And Mateo’s like a human Utah.”

“Oh, I have my own Utah,” you laugh in understanding. “It could always be worse, he could be engaged. He’s not!” you add the last part quickly when you see her eyes widen in panic. 

“Oh, good,” she lets out a sigh of relief. 

“But mine was, or at least practically engaged. I found out he had already bought his girlfriend a ring after I made a fool of myself.”

“How did it end up working out?” Victoria asks, finally getting her own emotions in check.

“We’re great coworkers now, but it was one of the most embarrassing days of my life,” you admit, walking up to the nurse’s station. 

“Is he here today?” Victoria asks, looking around the ED trying to figure out who’s married. 

“He is,” you sigh, avoiding looking in Langdon’s direction. “He’s in South twelve right now.”

Javadi whips around to see who could be the person to knock you off your bearings. “Langdon?” she asks in complete shock, she imagined it would be someone more like you- someone nicer. 

“It was like in one of those cheesy romance novels, it was like the whole world disappeared and there was only him. He was a second year resident at the time.”

Just talking about it transports you back to two years ago, getting lost in his baby blue eyes. He seemed to take a special liking to you, he was always having you work alongside him, pulling you away from other residents when he had a more interesting case he wanted you to experience. 

Within the first month of you being in the Pitt it was like you and Langdon were attached at the hip. When he could see you slowing down during one of your many twelve hour shifts, he would slip you little snacks like granola bars or cheese crackers. If you had down time you were grabbing coffees or water for the two of you from the break room. The way you were with him caused Perlah and Princess to gossip about the two of you. And it didn’t stop with them, when no one else was around even Dana and Robby would talk about the way the two of you act around each other. 

With each passing day your feelings for Frank grew stronger and deeper. You spent pretty much every waking minute thinking about him, anytime you could let your mind drift it would slip back to thoughts of him. It didn't help that you would grab late night dinners to decompress after pretty much every shift, and spending your days texting one another about anything and everything. 

Even with all of that time spent together, you had no idea he had a girlfriend- and a serious one at that. If you had known you never would have dreamed of asking him out, of thinking you had even a sliver of a chance with him. One fateful day two months into your rounds, you asked him to go to the Carnegie Science Center with you on your day off. His face immediately changed from the carefree smile that Princess swears he reserves just for you, to a cold hard stare. You can still feel the white hot embarrassment washing over you to this day. You were so embarrassed, and to make matters worse you had just spit the question out at the nurses station right in front of Dana, wanting to- needing to- ask Frank before you lost your nerve. So you got rejected right there in the middle of the ED in front of your charge nurse, the same nurse who told you two weeks later that he had gotten engaged over the weekend.  

“At least I waited two months before asking mine out,” you tease Javadi. 

“Dr. (Y/L/N),” you and the first year resident beside you freeze at the unmistakable voice. “Can I get your opinion on a patient in North four?”

“Yes,” your voice squeaks a little, once again feeling the embarrassment you felt around him two years ago. “But, I’m bringing Dr. Javadi, she could use the experience.”

“Okay…”he furrows his brows at you, confused by your reaction to him. 

Javadi watches Langdon and you, how the two of you move in sync, no trace of the awkwardness she’ll no doubt have with Mateo going forward. She doesn’t know how she didn’t see it before, the little looks you two give each other as you work, wordlessly communicating your thoughts to each other. He may have rejected you years ago, but he still clearly cares about you and values your opinion. 

The remaining hours of your shifts slip by; Javadi, Langdon, and you being separated and thrown together multiple times throughout. She watches you two, observes the way you take care of each other. 

���Cute, aren’t they?” Dana asks Javadi once she returns from her CT scan. “Been wondering when they’ll get together. The whole department’s got a bet going if you want to get in on it.”

“Isn’t he married?” Javadi asks, confused. Afterall, you said he had an engagement ring for his girlfriend. 

“No, he couldn’t go through with the wedding,” Dana gestures toward where you and Frank are leaning against the other side of the nurse’s station, giggling over the cups of freshly brewed coffee you just made. 

Your moment is cut short by the announcement of the shooting at Pitt Fest, everyone is scrambling trying to set up the ED before the first ambulance arrives. You work through the carnage, compartmentalizing everything you see, so you don’t break down in the middle of the chaos. There’s blood everywhere and you’ve changed your gown at least two times. You’ve lost Frank in the frey, which is to be expected, but hard nonetheless when he’s your lifeline. Slowly but surely everyone works as a well oiled machine and save everyone that you can. 

Once it’s all over and your body no longer has to run on autopilot, you're faced with the reality of what just happened. The blood smeared across the floor reminding you of the teenager, with her whole life in front of her, that you couldn’t save. Tears start to collect on your lashline standing in the middle of the emergency department, watching all of the fluids get mopped up so the ED  can be opened back up to the public like nothing just happened. 

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” Frank appears out of nowhere, pulling you tightly into his chest. “We just need to hand off our patients to the night crew and then we can go home.”

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” you grip onto his scrubs.

“I know,” he whispers, kissing the crown of your head without a thought. “You can come over to my place, I’ll make us some dinner, and we can watch a movie. I’ll even let you put on one of those trashy rom coms you love so much.”

“Thank you Frank,” you bury your head into his neck, taking a deep breath and putting your game face back on. 

“I love you,” Frank says out of nowhere, still holding onto you.

“I love you,too, my Utah,” you smile at him before heading off to find a resident to hand your cases off to. Frank and you will have to address your confessions when your emotions have calmed and the adrenaline has worn off.

“What?” he asks himself as you walk away. “What’s a Utah?”

[eeuni]

what was i made for? ❀ b.e

fluff, depression, relapses, ed, sh, childhood memories

billie came home; the sixth time she'd come home this late. it was almost 4 a.m. and she assumed you'd be asleep in bed, waiting for her. her steps were vague, trying to see through the darkness of the house where she was walking. she noticed the television on, the large couch with its back to her.

when billie approached to turn it off while yawning, she noticed a figure lying right there. her heart nearly leaped out of her chest, but she soon realized it was you. wait—what were you doing here?

"baby?" your girlfriend's voice reached your ears, yet you didn't move.

maybe you were too sad to react to anything anyone said, or your mind no longer knew it was real. you had recently visited your childhood home, yes, the one that still haunted your dreams. you went alone, without billie, you hadn't dared to ask her to accompany you because she seemed too busy, going back and forth to the studio or to meetings.

the only thing that came to mind and stuck like a stake were those letters that were in a box under your bed, names of relatives on each one. they were the kind of letters you only write when you slowly put hundreds and hundreds of pills in your mouth to end your misery.

it seemed unreal until today the way you had treated yourself, cutting your skin, stopping eating to become lighter than a feather like in your childhood. maybe that was the whole point of what you did in the past, to feel like a little girl again. hurt, fragile, maybe, just maybe someone seeing you like this would take care of you.

but not even the ghost of your mother appeared there to hold you, and that was something you would always carry with you.

billie noticed your open eyes, you weren't asleep, you were motionless, your eyes dry with no tears left to cry. her heart ached, the few times she had seen you after you had returned from your childhood home she had seen you discouraged, and every time she tried to ask the alarm went off to go to the studio. she felt a guilt weighing on her soul, even more so when she noticed a plate of food on the coffee table.

the same plate of food she served you before leaving without warning. the food was in its place, you hadn't even taken a bite. but how would you do it? how could you eat with such profound sadness occupying every space in your body, including your stomach?

"baby, please talk to me." your girlfriend sat next to you, right where your legs were. "i know you're not asleep."

you were a little more hurt by the way billie spoke, you could tell she was tired with her yawns.

her hand rested on your waist, caressing it gently. that was the action that made you burst into tears, so simple but so full of love that you couldn't believe it. you trembled slightly, hiding your sobs in your hoodie. you didn't want her to see you cry, you didn't want to agree with her that you were so bad that you couldn't be alone.

"can you stop pretending for a moment?" she asked, not firmly or harshly, but gently, wanting to help you open up to her. "come give me a big hug, sweet girl."

with that you got up from your place, loud whimpers coming out of your mouth you were able to approach billie hiding your head in her neck. it's been so long since she hugged you like this.

she did nothing but stroke your back, humming a soft song to help calm you down.

you couldn't be mad at her, not when you were the one who had kept everything to yourself. it was like blaming a baby for crying. you stay there, on her neck, your lower lip constantly trembling. you felt weak; you hadn't eaten anything in a few days, which only made you feel worse. you wanted to talk...to tell billie everything that was bothering you, but now you couldn't, even looking at her was difficult.

"baby, you're shaking too much," she whispered, very worried. she slowly pulled you away, noticing how you looked.

you looked over at the piece of furniture where the television was. pictures of yourself as a child were there. you were dying to show them to billie, but she'd been very busy.

"did you eat, angel?" that question made you look at her. you could tell billie the truth or lie. your heart sank and you denied it. "nothing? why, love?"

"i wasn't hungry." was the first thing you said. she looked at you as if you were lying. "it's true, i'm not hungry, billie."

she remained silent for a few seconds, stood up slowly —not before giving you a kiss on the forehead and making you comfortable on the couch— and grabbed the untouched plate of food.

your girlfriend came into the kitchen, serving some food you two had in the fridge after giving the other to shark, she heated it up quickly and brought it to you. you looked at her as if she had placed a very heavy weight in front of your eyes. she sat back down, grabbing the fork and with little food on it she brought it up to your mouth.

you didn't open your mouth.

"billie, i don't—" billie interrupted you.

"please." she begged you, her eyes slightly covered by some hairs from her bangs. "i know you don't want to, my baby, but you have to eat, okay?" she tried again to bring the fork closer.

it took you a while to open your mouth but you did it anyway, the food invaded your palate and you let out a sigh as you chewed. you closed your eyes for a moment, convincing yourself that you were doing this for billie and for yourself.

"there you go, my sweet angel." she took your hands, caressing them. "i'm so proud of you for trying."

you wanted to cry again, but this time you didn't. Instead, you threw yourself into your girlfriend's arms again, closing your eyes tightly, as if what you were experiencing was a bad dream. she placed her hands on your waist, placing you on her lap, rocking you gently like a baby. you could feel her breath on your forehead.

"it's all right, i got you."

you felt a little better, but that feeling was mild. you still felt a deep wound in your soul, a desire to ask billie why she didn't stay a little longer before going to the studio. you looked up, conflicted with your own thoughts.

"why did you leave without warning?" you whispered.

billie seemed to tense for a moment, her mind filling with guilt. maybe if she had paid more attention to you, you wouldn't be like this.

"finneas called me, told me i had to come quickly to hear something new he had." she replied, caressing your left cheek. "but anyway, sorry for leaving so quickly. i missed you."

the last thing she said made you feel a little —just a little— better, you couldn't stay mad at this woman, not when the look on her face looked so real, so guilt-ridden.

you got up from her arms without saying anything else, she became a little desperate at losing the physical contact she had with you a few seconds ago.

"where are you going, babe?—" you didn't answer her question.

your barefoot steps echoed in the large house you two shared. you reached the furniture where the television was and grabbed a couple of photos of yourself. not just any kind of photos, but photos from when you were just a baby. the same ones you brought from your childhood home. you sat back down, now next to billie, and passed her the photos.

the first photo was on your 5th birthday, you were sitting in a chair in the kitchen of your house, your hair in a simple ponytail, the cake in front of you, you blowing out the candles. the second was you in the park, your little hands trying to catch a pink balloon, your expression full of life. the third photo was one of your right eye, next to a dandelion flower, your favorites, the brightness of your eyes in the sun only stood out more, a vivid color. the fourth photo was where you were lying face down on the floor, a dollhouse decorated with recycled things, your hands holding a barbie. you were looking straight into the camera, laughing.

each photo stayed stuck in billie's soul, her eyes stung, she wanted to cry. the tips of her fingers traced your small figure in each photo; the world in her mind had stopped. you remained silent, nervously playing with your hands.

"i see myself there and isee myself today. i don't really know what to do with myself, billie." you started. she looked up, her eyes watery. "i didn't want to worry you. i feel like you're not made for this, so i didn't say anything. i didn't want to burden you with this. you have a whole life out there waiting for you."

you started crying again, this time billie did too. she pulled you into her arms, desperate, making you want to feel her love for you.

"don't say that. you'd never be a burden in my life, but rather the person who helps me bear the full weight of what the world expects of me." billie sobbed. "you don't know how good it feels to have you around, you're the only thing i look for when the world stops seeing me through a screen."

tears remained impregnated in billie's chest.

"i don't know how to feel, billie." you confessed.

"you don't have to solve this now, okay baby?" she stroke your hair, she was trying to convince herself that she was okay so she could hold you.

but the truth is that you two felt the same, so you decided to hug each other and cry together.

"sorry i wasn't there." your girlfriend grabbed your face, asking you—or rather, begging you—to forgive her.

"it's okay, bils, i love you. i'm sorry for keeping all this to myself." you let out a slightly bitter laugh, wiping away your tears.

she held you tighter, shark jumped onto the couch with one of his toys to play, but the dog quickly noticed something was wrong. "oh, shark." you whispered, calling him to lie on top of you.

the dog came quickly, lying on your lap, his expression sad now. you petted him, letting him know everything was okay.

that one day you would remember how to be happy.

"do you want to watch a movie?" your girlfriend asked softly, noticing that you were calmer, your breathing soft against her neck, tears now dry on your cheeks.

you nodded slightly, she stood up so she could look for the remote, but not before putting that photo of you playing with a barbie next to one of her photos when she was little. in her photo, she was playing with another barbie, the photos were so similar.

you smiled softly at that, billie sat down next to you again, pulling you closer. she put on any barbie movie, the first one that came out.

billie, you and shark were lying on the couch, hugging each other, watching the movie. everyone felt less heavy for you, even for your girlfriend. after a few minutes you both started laughing like little girls watching the movie scenes. you looked at the beautiful woman at your side, stealing a kiss on her cheek.

"thanks, bils." you whispered.

her eyes connected with yours, she looked at you full of love, so much that it touched your soul.

"you don't have to thank me for loving you, baby girl."

you two moved closer, joining your lips in a sweet kiss, leaving aside your problems, even your uncertainties. being like this with billie made you feel more than good, she was perhaps your only medicine.

forever.

"finch, i think i have the idea." billie smiled.

despite all the pain she suffered and not only her but also you, she was now in the studio, the hairs of her bangs all over her face, it was night, but she had already thought about the idea.

"about the barbie song?" he asked, turning around and stopping playing the piano.

she nodded, showing him the whole idea. the song, the reflection of barbie's life, the uncertainty. and she wrote everything from barbie's point of view, but also from yours.

"...something i'm made for." your girlfriend's smile was evident, her —now— red roots decorating the small pink baby tee she wore.

it had been a while since you'd disconnected from yourself. billie made it clear to finneas that even though she had all the inspiration in the world, she needed to take care of you. he quickly understood. she stopped disappearing in the morning, she started singing to you every night so you could sleep, helping you face your fears or questions, she truly accompanied you.

you were able to feel better, you started accompanying billie to the studio which only made her more inspired. she showed you her lyrics, the ideas she had and she asked you if it was okay to be inspired by you.

you felt honored, happy to be that bridge that connected billie to the peak of her creativity. when she finished the song, you were the first to hear it. you cried a lot, feeling something inside you healing.

your childhood.

they had given it back to you. billie had given it back to you.

you stood up, clapping proudly, your eyes filling with tears. everyone behind you stood up, causing a standing ovation.

(...)

"of course, you know...i've had a lot of inspiration from barbie, not just her, for sure." billie explained to the interviewer, moving her hands.

staring at you.

"i couldn't have made this song without...you know, my girlfriend— i don't know, it's all easier if i write from someone else's perspective."

applause was heard, you smiled, remembering the photos of you and billie when you were little girls playing with barbies.

that song honestly saved your life.

billie saved you too.

[yourmessagehasbeendenied]

~LITTLE DEATH

tw; MDNI, nsfw content ahead, insecure!reader, chubby!reader, smut, masturbation, BTW IF YOU KNOW ME IRL NO YOU DONT SHUT UP

Were you living or just breathing? You couldn't decide anymore. It was fairly familiar to the older stories you read in books, except for one fact, - It didn't have a happy ending so far, no boyfriend or prince charming.

You considered giving up your life to be a nun, at that point. But you can't do that, cause you're not a virgin anymore. Though with the amount of experience you had? You could be considered one. People pretend they have happy lives for the sake of pretending, to keep up a facade, for some reason it's much more important than actually being happy. You weren't into that thing. You felt how you felt and always showed it, that was the good part about you. You've gotten the same thing your whole life. "No, you're.. A good friend, I just.. Wouldn't date you, in a million years." From all your friends. Until him, anyway. A strong military man as your neighbor? You bet your ass you were gonna drool over him. Who wouldn't? Those muscles, that mask you had a strange thing for, and the way he dressed, his silent nature, he was like the whole package! There was only one problem. You knew he would never go for you. Life was boring at all times. No boyfriend to keep you occupied, just a stupidly used vibrator and your hands. No sex, a dead-end job, minimum wage, and an apartment that wasn't exactly the best. Not that it was the worst, either, you couldn't exactly complain. You didn't see Simon around much, as much as you would've liked to. He had missions to go on, debriefs, he left for weeks, months. The only times you've ever seen him around was rare occasions, like holidays. But on a certain night, that changed. You were out at a bar, with your friends - figuring you could loosen up a bit. The clock hit midnight and figuring you wouldn't get laid anyway- you headed home.

And there he was, in the elevator, with you. But it was different this time around, you felt him looking at you. When you looked towards him, he looked straight into your eyes. Silence erupted the small elevator and it broke like glass being slammed on the floor when he spoke, "Your tits are half out in that. I wouldn't wear it again if I were you. I could practically rip them off of you with a finger." He said, and looked at you, still stared, like he said nothing to you.

And it flustered you. You haven't had sexual interactions with a man in years- how wouldn't it? You blushed, and tried to open your mouth but all that came out was a measly, "thanks" but what you were thanking him for? You had no fucking idea, and hoped he wouldn't ask. The elevator shortly after arrived and he went to his, and you went to your door. This was the first sexual sentence probably you've ever gotten from a man whom you actually find the most attractive, and it made you feel a certain way. So even if it wasn't with a man, you knew you'd have fun that night. All by yourself.

Or so you thought. ~~ Laying on his bed, watching the damn TV and trying to find at least one good show or movie to pass the time with, Simon was unsuccessful of finding anything worth his time, so he found the show he usually watched- Dr. House, re-watching for the 6th time this week.

Halfway through the episode, and he heard it. Faintly, more of a distant echo rather than something that's loud, but it caught his attention. It made him interested, it made him feel a certain type of way. Did he hear it right? Was he hallucinating things, too desperate? That's when he heard it again. Sweet. Honey-like, a fucking addiction that sound was, and in that moment he cursed the walls for being so paper-thin, where-as he could hear your moans. He felt like a fucking creep, listening and actually enjoying hearing the nice cute lady next door touch herself- but he couldn't help himself. He lowered the volume of the tv, only slightly so he could hear more - he figured if he could hear your moans, you could hear his TV. He didn't wanna make things suspicious - and he SURE as hell didn't want you to stop. He swallowed. He leaned up against the wall, and he felt pathetic for having his head back against it, listening to your moans, the vibration sound coming from your bedroom. And fuck, he hated it, he hated how turned on it made him- how aroused he was. He swore- he would just listen, there's no harm in that, right? But that idea was quickly ruined when you turned up the speed and moaned louder- figuring he couldn't hear or care- getting more confident. He started hating himself even more when he realized his cock was getting chubbed up just by the sound of your moans. Was he really gonna get hard over nothing? And especially over you? He can't help it. You sounded like a fucking pornstar, and that outfit you wore today just made everything worse. It made him feel so much worse, but he just couldn't stop his hands from reaching in, from reaching his boxers- and inside. He told himself- this isn't his fault, right? It's yours, yours and you should be punished, punished for reducing him to do this, for not making a move. But he was wondering, what the fuck were you imagining? But the thought made him angry- jealous, what if it isn't him? It made him feel strange. He brushed the thought off and listened to your moans, the rhythmic vibration- and he decided to match the pace. It felt more intimate, more deep- and it also made him feel like an absolute pervert, a dickhead, but it felt so good. He imagined you, your plump body, your tits, and how he would touch them. Hold you down, sit you on his lap in front of a mirror when he pounded inside you. Going faster. ~ Vibrations fastened up and your moans were louder than before, and as much as he started loving your moans more, he started hating himself more with each passing moment. Snapping out of it while touching himself- he swallowed and looked down at his body. "Fuck, what am I even doing? This is insane." He pulled his hands out of his pants, ready to button up- stop this madness because of his guilt. That's when the question in the back of his mind got answered- hearing it, faintly- but still his ears picked it up as the loudest sound. "Simon~" And all the guilt was suddenly forgotten when he practically gripped himself, he was sweating hard, blushing, did it suddenly get too hot in his room? Was it the air conditioning? He swore it was- he had to get it fixed. It definitely wasn't the fact he was touching himself to his sweet little neighbor who's the type to bring cookies and pretend everything is fine. He touched himself, to your rhythm again- to your moans. Imagining he was there with you- it made him feel less guilty knowing you did the same. Because fuck, he would love to be, he figured he'd just slam your door open in a few minutes to go over and fuck you himself- but he couldn't. He wasn't a creep after all, right? ..More like, not brave enough. Definitely a creep enough.

Your moans were heavenly for him. He couldn't hold it for too long anymore- he swore he almost came in his pants even when he heard you moan his name. He cursed under his breath, "Fuck, like a teenage boy," He whispered as he looked down at himself, entire body sweaty, red, hot. He should've stopped. He should stop. But he can't. "Simon, please take me. Please fuck me, please, please, make me yours, all yours-" God fucking damnit, was this a cruel joke on him? He swallowed. His hand worked faster than before and he was on his peak, when he tried to slow down- guilt creeping up again just slightly but not enough for him to care. He heard your moans, and he swallowed. Your begging. He wants to take you more than anything. He tried not coming in 5 seconds after that moan- and he was doing good, and that's when you fucked it up for him. You came. He heard you come- and he heard you scream practically. "Sir- y-yes, just like that! T-thank you sir!" You screamed like he was the one doing it to you, not the vibrator- and it fueled his god complex, his ego. He swallowed and that's when he hit. Head thrown back against the wall. He was breathing heavy, he was fucked up, sweaty, and his mouth fell open as he couldn't find an alternative fast enough to cover his own mouth, so he simply let it out. "Fuuuuuck baby, that's my good girl.." He came. It felt like death, like his mind was numb, like he was drowning. A little death - this was the hardest he's ever come. Silence, full on fucking silence- and for the first time he felt afraid. Did he fuck up? Did you hear him? Odds are you did, but if you didn't - he'll start thanking god on his knees. But even if you did, there was nothing he could do other than clean his own pants and the bed he made a mess on, and get ready for bed. He had a long night. And so did you. ~~ The next morning, you were in the elevator- coming home from buying groceries. Well, awkward, because he also was just doing the same and getting in. When he saw you go in he debated to just let the elevator pass and go on the stairs- but he realized that would just make it more awkward. So he swallowed and got in the elevator, holding his bag, while you held yours. He cleared his throat, staring at you up and down and looking away. This time you spoke, and it was like a knife cutting through the tension. "...So, rough night, huh?" He didn't even hesitate before he immediately without a second of breathing said, "For fucking sure."

A/N: yeah nah idk anymore, possible part 2 might be coming, also for my babies who dont know, just search up the meaning of little death, love yall

[wordsofwhimsy]

y’all i’ve been trying to power through lately cause life has been very haaard for me, and then i thought you myself – you know who would make me feel better? markus sebastian

mark had always had a good life. a mother who filled the archetype like it was what she was always meant to do. a father who literally could 'beat up your dad!' when he would get into it with the other kids on the playground. a house that could’ve been the perfect set for a sitcom. it was all just so perfect. until, of course, one day it wasn’t.

and then suddenly he seemed to understand you so well. you, who constantly seemed to laugh at life – like you could always see the joke when no one else could. you, who hid out in his treehouse at seven years old while your parents went through a nightmare divorce next door. it was the first time he wondered if his powers were coming in because he could hear their shouts clear as day, yet you rambled on about black holes like it was the only thing happening. didn't you hear the way your mother cried? but instead you said to him, they say anything’s possible on the other side of a blackhole.

mark's brows were knitted tightly together, eyes constantly glancing out the little window and towards the house next door. you just keep smiling.

wouldn’t it be fun to slip into one? you asked.

he never did understand how you handled the weight of the world so effortlessly. like it was a secret only you had figured out. he would think to himself [y/n] is the strongest person in the world. it wasn’t just a thought in his mind. it was a fact. the sky was blue, the sun burned hot, and you were tougher than steel.

until one day, well into adulthood, he went to knock on your door, and before his knuckles could meet the wood he heard you crying on the other side. he froze, only for a moment, his heart seizing in his chest.

he turned the knob, slowly pushed open the door – he’d always told you to keep it locked. you never did. like you were constantly challenging fate.

he hushed your name like a secret. you just turned away from where you sat on the living room floor, head pressing into the side of the sofa.

are you… okay….? he asked.

of course you weren’t, but he didn’t know why. he could think of a MILLION reasons, but all of them you’d trudged through like a solider a million times before. seeing you like this made him scared.

I— you started.

but nothing else came out. your body was small, curled in on itself. were you always this small?

he came to you slowly, kneeling down next to you. he hesitated, then wrapped his arms around your trembling frame. hey, it’s okay, i’m here.

you cried harder.

his heart felt like it was turning to ash.

he didn’t know what to say – what to think – what to do. and suddenly the words were tumbling out of him, without even thinking. y’know they discovered a new planet today.

your cries stuttered, still buried into the couch.

it’s lightyears away… i guess… he continued.

you sniffled. do you even know what that means?

he went stiff for a second. you breathed out through your nose—was that a laugh?

can you imagine – traveling at the speed of light and it still taking YEARS to reach a place? you continued, and it felt like his heart was breaking and breathing at the same time.

his cheek rested against the top of your head.

i can’t move that fast, but… his thumb rubbed soothing circles over your arm. maybe, a few years from now, i can take you there.

you laughed. the laugh turned into a sob, your eyes pressing into his chest.

he still didn’t know why. but it didn’t matter. he meant what he said, and he would sit there with you for as long as he needed.

[heyimkana]

Pillow Talk (3/4)

Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | AO3 Link

Sequel to Come Home to Me but can be read separately.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo X Female Reader

Genre: Marriage AU, fluff, smut

Summary: As the hours grow late, your kisses turn deeper, his touches grow more obscene, and by the end of it, his patience snaps and it's about time for you to start a new game.

Content Warnings: face-sitting, constant flirting, endless banter

Word Count: 8K

But… A filthy thought resurfaces, tugging on the corner of his lips. A little poke can’t hurt.

“Jinwoo?” You raise a brow, confused as to why your husband suddenly turns quiet. “Are you all right?”

He smiles saccharine sweet—a mask he uses to cover his devilish grin. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just had some… thoughts in my mind.”

“Thoughts? What thoughts?”

“About our baby,” he answers so effortlessly, leaving it impossible for you to discern through his lies. “I haven’t talked to them today. Would you mind if I say hi real quick?”

The sudden change in his actions confounds you. You really thought your little act of submission earlier was enough to snap the rope that held him together.

Sensing your hesitance, Jinwoo pushes a lock of stray strands behind your ear. “Will you lie down for me, Angel? Please?” His touch, his voice, his gaze—everything is so tender, it almost washes away all of your suspicions. Almost. 

Huh… Your tongue prods your cheek. Guess he has more self-control than I thought. “Sure. They won’t be able to hear you now, though. Not until I’m in my second trimester, at least.” 

“It’s all right. I just want to be close to my baby. Both of my babies,” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eyes as he obviously refers to you as the second, much needier one.

“Cheesy,” you mutter, showcasing a revolted look despite finding hilarity in it. Who thought the sixth national-level hunter, Sung Jinwoo, could act this way behind closed doors? Still, with your eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion, you comply and lift yourself off his lap. You swear you caught a slight hint of mischief fleeting across his face just now, but…

“What?” He blinks, feigning innocence. “Something wrong?”

“No.” Why won’t he just kiss me? Like, actually kiss me? This has been going on forever, hasn’t it?! You wonder, biting back the frustrated sigh before it tumbles off your lips. 

The bed creaks slightly beneath you as you glue your spine to the sheets, watching the ceiling above you with a frown, still trying to figure out why your plan of luring him didn't work before. Have you lost your touch? Your sensuality? Perhaps you should’ve gone all out, just directly seduce him until he caves into his desire—to yours. But that would make you sound desperate, no? 

Submerged in your own thoughts, you fail to notice the fiendish grin embellishing your husband’s face. “Don’t pout, Sweetheart,” he says, recapturing your attention. “I’ll be right back with you in a second.”

“I wasn’t pouting.”

“Sure you weren’t,” he playfully scoffs, his retort carrying a spark of deja vu. 

Jinwoo starts his little game, traversing his way down your body, his smile, tinged with a hint of impishness, stays everlasting on his face. He leaves a trail of fireworks as he maps the valley between your breasts with his mouth, reaching every inch of skin that’s not covered by satin. “Your skin is so soft…” Though he aims to keep it innocent, his tongue peeks out from between thin, rosy lips, tasting your skin fleetingly as if his self-control slipped its leash for a moment. 

He feels your body stiffening at the sensation. “Seems like someone’s a little sensitive tonight,” Jinwoo chuckles, pushing up your gown until it pools just below your breasts, leaving your stomach exposed for his breath to caress. “Kind of reminds me of the way you act during our wedding night. You were so cute, then.” His fingertips feel featherlight on your skin as both desire and adoration pervade his gaze. “Of course, you’re adorable now, too. You always are. But the way you squirmed underneath me that night… The way you gasped and moaned even from the slightest touch… Mmm,” he applies another slow, erotic, open-mouth kiss below your navel, his tongue swirling across the skin. “You were so, so fucking cute, baby.”

The stimulation zings through your entire body, almost robbing a yearning moan out of you. “S-shut up.” A bashful retort is all you can manage as you cast your face to the side, avoiding his gaze. Even the devil himself has never looked as sultry as he was before. “It’s just… It’s been a while.”

He loves it, loves the way you easily get flustered from his lines. “Since what, exactly?”

“You know what.”

“Sweetheart,” he laughs softly at your obliviousness. “I’m giving you a chance to talk dirty to me. Make use of it.”

“I—” you sputter, face aflame. “Y-you know I can’t. It’s embarrassing. Besides, you’re…” You turn mute, stopping a second too late.

“I’m much better at it than you are?” He continues your sentence with a smirk, the silky swirl of his tongue in the hollow of your navel sends fire licking through your veins. You make the mistake of looking down, catching the way his tongue darts out so obscenely to taste your skin. His eyes fixate on yours, as hazy as your own, filled with the carnality he tries to repress. Your stomach flutters in sensation, wanting more, so much more. 

Noticing your stare, he makes a show of it, moaning softly against your skin as he bestows more wet, slow kisses on your lower abdomen, catching flesh between his teeth, and teasing it until a mark blooms. You chew on your lip, your fingers twisting against the sheets. God, I want your mouth on me, you almost plead out loud.

“You’re losing your words, Angel,” he reminds you with a puckish smile, snapping you out of your daze.

“I thought you were gonna speak to our baby,” you glower.

“I am going to. I just wanna play with the bigger baby for a bit before I go to the little one.”

“Get to it.”

His grin grows wider. “Why, afraid you’re gonna start begging if I continue?”

“Get. to. it.”

He chortles softly. Just how adorable can she be, he wonders as he stands on his knees before you. “Open your legs for me, Angel.” When you grow hesitant over his request, Jinwoo playfully rolls his eyes. “I won’t do anything, I promise. I just want to get comfortable. Besides” —he rests his hand on your thigh, teasing you by rubbing circular motions with his thumb—“It’s not like you haven’t spread your legs for me before.”

“God, you’re so—” You sigh in defeat. This is starting to get embarrassing. With a slight sulk on your face, you slowly part open your thighs, watching the way his smirk vanishes little by little as he takes in the view. The way you spread them so slowly as your embarrassment sinks in, the delicate lace of your lingerie, and how it sticks so perfectly to your heat like a second skin, they barely leave any room for his imagination to wander… 

You clasp your thighs together again, squeezing them shut as your eyes turn into slits. “Focus,” you chastise him, despite being flustered yourself.

“I am.” 

“I mean, on the baby!”

Your husband kisses your knee with an amused grin before he pries your legs apart and settles himself in between. “Right, the other baby,” he chuckles, making himself at home, his toned abdomen pressed flat against the bed as he strokes your stomach with a gentle hand. 

As you are only in your seventh week of pregnancy, your belly hasn’t swollen much, the bump nearly nonexistent, especially when you lie down. If it weren’t for your never-ending fatigue and your morning sickness, perhaps you wouldn't have felt pregnant at all. 

“Hey there, kiddo,” Jinwoo greets them with a tiny kiss on your skin. “It’s Daddy speaking.” He splays out his hand over your stomach, smiling tenderly at the small yet growing baby bump. “I heard you’ve been a little too rough on Mommy today. Wanna tell me what’s that all about?” 

He pauses for a second, humming lightly every now and then as if he’s responding to what the baby is saying. “I see. So, you don’t like the food, huh? But, you see, baby, your mommy is trying her best to give you all the nutrients you need. We want you to grow all healthy and strong, so can we cooperate for a bit? For Mommy’s sake? She’s been very nice, you know.” 

His fingers continue to trace shapes on your skin, listening intently at the baby's ‘comeback’. “I know, darling, but you have to understand the pain she’s going through. You’re making her super nauseous and tired all the time, but she won’t even take anything for it ‘cause she doesn’t want her pills to harm you. She loves you so, so much, kiddo, just as much as I love you. So, if you could just tone down your little tantrum over there and let Mommy have some rest, Daddy promises he’ll do anything you want the second you’re out of your little nest.” 

Jinwoo settles his lips on your skin, letting you feel the contour of his smile. Suddenly, he pulls away, making a face as his eyes flicker back to you. “Did you hear that? Our baby just said no. I’m afraid we got a little troublemaker in here, honey.”

You titter at his performance. “Oh, really? Another one?”

“Mm, just like Daddy,” he replies with a grin too sexy to be considered playful. Jinwoo drags his stare to your stomach once more, his voice laced with mirth as he speaks. “Listen, baby. I know it’s still too early for me to say this, but I want you to understand one thing. It’s Daddy’s job to drive Mommy insane, okay? Your job is to look cute and melt Mommy’s heart so she won’t stay mad at me for too long. We need to work as a team, you and me. So, from now on, no more giving Mommy a hard time, okay? Can you promise me that?” 

His little theatrics are so convincing that you can practically hear your baby sprouting their lines back to him. “Good,” Jinwoo utters in satisfaction at their imaginary response. “You’re making Daddy feel so happy right now, baby. I hope you know that your mom and I are so excited to have you. We’re going to spoil you rotten, you know that? We’re gonna take care of you and make sure you’re always safe and loved. It’s still gonna be a while until I can hold you in my arms, but I’ll be counting the days until then. Daddy can’t wait to meet you, Sweetheart.” 

With sweet affection residing in his gaze, Jinwoo lays his head down on your stomach, rising and falling slightly with every breath you take. “I think they like me,” he says after listening for a while, followed by an elated sigh.

“I think that's just the sound of my guts contracting, but okay.” You ruffle his hair, your smile a mix of glee and adoration. “I’m sure they do, honey. They will love you so much and—What are you doing?!” Your voice turns a pitch higher when he suddenly drags his head south, his mouth leaving a string of wet, sensual kisses down your pelvis. 

“Nothing,” he murmurs seductively against your skin, his lashes fluttering against his cheekbone as he toys with his favorite doll. “Just showing my baby some love.”

Which baby?! With shivers born out of every kiss, you find your legs squeezing around him, your fingers gripping the linen beneath you as your anticipation grows. He’s so close to where you want him, yet never close enough. Every time you feel like he's about to taste you where you ache for him the most, Jinwoo moves away, purposefully pushing you to your limit. What was it that he said before? That it was his job to drive you crazy?

“Your thigh’s trembling,” he comments with a hint of cockiness in his tone, pleased with the effects he has on you. “Cute,” he purrs out, diving his head low to suck on the inner side. Gliding his hand up your leg, he keeps your thigh pressed close to him as he grinds his teeth against the skin, teasing you without giving you a chance to escape. “Are you nervous, Sweetheart? Or maybe” —a deep, lewd moan vibrates on your skin as he sucks on your supple flesh, making sure to paint your thigh with his favorite color—“excited?” 

You toss your head back, a whimper slipping out of you no matter how much you try to suppress it. It’s just a little love bite and yet... 

Jinwoo chuckles. “Definitely excited.”

You want his mouth on you. God, it's insane how much you want it, but at the same time, you don't feel like you have the patience to wait anymore. You want to feel him, truly feel him, connected in every way possible, and you know he wants it, too. 

“Jin…” You place one hand in his hair, grasping at his strands. Your intention is still unclear, uncertain whether you want to stop him or urge him to thrust his tongue inside. And should you even be this desperate for him? Fuck, maybe he’s right. Maybe you are needy.

Still with his head trapped between your thighs, Jinwoo circles his fingers around your wrist, guiding your hand down to his face as your thoughts still wage war against one another. As he presses your hand against his cheek, your thumb accidentally brushes against the corner of his mouth. He parts his lips instinctively, his eyes clouded as he looks at you. With a gulp, you push your index and middle fingers inside his mouth, watching him take them all at once, his cheeks hollowing around your digits, enveloping them till his lips brush against your knuckles. Jinwoo keeps his eyes glued to yours; the intensity, the lust swirling inside is unmatched, electrifying you. 

He closes his lids, sucking on your fingers like he’s made for it, groaning softly around them, low and sensual. He looks so submissive like this, a view that’s so rare, you almost feel like you should commemorate it somehow. The moment you slide them away, with his saliva dripping to his chin, Jinwoo dives his head back to your heat, closing his lips around your clit. 

You shudder at the sensation, your legs clenching tightly around him. “Jinwoo—ngh—”

His breathing turns heavy. He only aimed to tease you before, but after catching a glimpse of how adorable and sensitive you look right now, he tosses his plans out the window. “Can I taste you?” he whispers, his gaze almost pleading. Two of his long fingers rub against your folds, eager to spread them apart and fit his tongue in between. “I know you’re not feeling very well today, so I won’t do anything you’re not ready for, but I just… I want to take care of you.” There’s sincerity in his lustful stare, the loving side of him competing against the beast inside. “Let me take care of you. Please? It’s been so long…” It's almost a whimper that crosses past his mouth when he nuzzles his face against your thigh, mouthing his words against your skin. “I want to remember how sweet you are, Angel. Want you to come in my mouth. Will you let me?” 

The filthy words ignite your desire the same way his tender tone soothes your heart. A quiet yes flows past your lips. 

He presses a grateful smile against your thigh. “That’s my good girl.” His fingers begin to work on your panties, sliding them off your legs. “Just lie still for me, Sweetheart. Just relax, and…” His breath falls hot on your core, his eyes gleaming beneath the soft, golden light. Spreading your folds apart, Jinwoo opens his mouth and darts out his tongue. “Keep your eyes on me."

He pushes in without a second to waste, his tongue moving past your ring at once, tasting the sweetness of your core. Your hand returns to his hair as a startled gasp escapes you, tugging against the roots. This time, you don’t want him to stop. He can fuck you later; that can wait. Right now, all you need is to find your release, to come on his tongue the way he craves it. 

“Mmph,” Jinwoo breathes out heavily through his nose, his eyes drooping in rapture the moment you start grinding on his face. He can sense your impatience, your need to take over control, to just use him as you please until you reach your ecstasy. And he knows exactly what to do for you to obtain it.

He breaks away from you, almost robbing a whine out of your lips from the short separation. To your surprise, your husband settles himself on the bed, rolling over to his back and taking your body with him. You land on his chest with a huff, his grip around your waist so possessively tight, his movements rushed as if he were on the brink of his sanity. 

“Get up here,” he nearly growls, his own patience running thin. “On my face, Angel.”

“J-Jin—”

“Now.”

Adrenaline pumps through your veins, causing you to ignore all sense of shame. You crawl up his body, your hips guided dominantly by his hands. You don’t have enough time to memorize how perfect he looks underneath you—trapped between your thighs with his face flushed, his hair disheveled from your frantic hand, his lips red and inviting, glistening with your juice.

He hastily brings you down onto his face, his nails sinking into your thighs as you rub your soaking core on his tongue. “God, baby,” Jinwoo moans, the salacious sounds intermingling with yours in the air. “You're so wet. So sweet for me.” It almost sounds like he's been waiting for eternity to taste you, and honestly, to him, it does feel that way. He’s drowning in just as much pleasure as the one he gives you, just from being used by you.

He pushes your gown to your stomach, and you hold it there, clutched tight between your fingers that have grown white from how hard you clench them. You have a clear view of his face now, his lascivious expression, the way his gaze turns dark and clouded, asking you to give him more.

“Jinwoo—” You land one hand on the headboard for balance, fingers tightened into a fist. “I-I want to please you, too. Let me turn over and—” 

“No,” he finds your clit, and he sucks hard, not letting you break even an inch away from him. 

You almost topple over, your hand sliding down the headboard as a jolt of pleasure shoots through you. “Fuck,” you hiss out, your thighs trembling around him. “S-slow down—ngh—” You haven’t come yet, but you feel overstimulated from how hard and fervent he suckles on your bud. At this rate, you’re going to finish before you can even lay your hands on him. “Jin, please, let me suck you off, too—ah—”

Your husband stubbornly ignores your request, a low growl erupting from the back of his throat as you continue to squirm above him. He tightens his grip on you, sliding his tongue inside, thrusting deep as his nose rubs against your clit.

He parts away when you cry out pathetically, his nails raking down your thighs. “You’re going to stay right here, Angel, right on my face,” he says, his voice rough and demanding. “You’re going to ride me, make yourself feel good with my tongue, and you’re going to let me see your face when you come. That’s what I want you to do for me, Sweetheart, you understand?”

“Jin, I—” 

“Answer me.”

Your breathing turns jagged, your jaw slackening on your face as you have no choice but to give him a shaky nod. “Yes…” 

Satisfied with your response, he urges you to sway your hips again. His mouth feels beyond amazing, so warm and wet, and just so eager to please you. Jinwoo is right. It has been too long since you last did this, and it makes your orgasm build up frighteningly fast. Despite the urge that impels you to pick up your pace, you do the opposite, timidly rocking your hips against his face, afraid that you'll come so soon if you don’t—

But he's not having it. 

“Use me,” his deep voice rumbles against your skin, his grip around your thigh bruising. “Fucking use me, baby, come on.” 

It's threatening to come out, the feral beast inside of him. And he wants to take it slow for you to savor the moment, but he just needs you so terribly. He needs to have your taste in his mouth. He needs to see you come. He knows how desperately you want it.

Fuck. Fuck. You can feel abashed about it some other time. He wants to see you let loose, and you're just aching to let yourself go. You push the hem of your gown inside your mouth, seizing it between your teeth. With one hand still propped against the headboard and another one buried in his strands, you fully rest your weight on him, pressing yourself as close as possible to his mouth. 

And you ride him. Hard and fast.

“Mmph—” Jinwoo grunts loudly as your fingers grab a handful of his hair, keeping him there, where he looks the prettiest with his face drenched in your essence. His gaze grows unfocused as he relishes the sweetness that oozes out of you, lapping on it fervidly as you continue to rub your clit back and forth, stopping only when he sucks on it. He doesn’t let the opportunity go to waste, suckling hard the way you like it until your toes curl in response.

“I’m—I’m close,” you warn him, no longer caring if your orgasm is coming in too fast. You can’t fight it back anymore. “Jin—”

Jinwoo responds with a moan, his eyes shut tight in rapture, eyebrows furrowing as he licks his way to your deepest part. His huge palms cup your behind, kneading your flesh and guiding you to rock your hips faster. Give it to me, Angel, he wants to say, but you’re not letting him do anything but stick out his tongue for you. He grants your wish as much as you’re granting his, breathing heavily through his nose, drunk from your taste.

Your orgasm hits you like waves crashing against rocks, so intense, it leaves you shaking from head to toe. Jinwoo tries to catch his own breathing, his hazy eyes taking in every detail of your face, memorizing every line and expression to recall later when he’s apart from you. You're pretty, so pretty. He wonders if you were made in heaven, designed by God himself to bless his eyes.

He lets you take as much time as you need to gather yourself, showering your thighs with idle kisses, his overwhelming lust reducing to sweet affection. His cock twitches painfully beneath his sweatpants, leaking and leaving a wet splotch on his underwear, yet he pays no heed to it, no matter how much it begs him to seek his own release.

He’s gotten what he wished for. He asked for a sliver of your taste, and you gave him an abundance of heaven bursting in his mouth. He's far from satisfied—he's insatiable, after all—but this is enough to soothe his yearning for you, at least for now.

You remove yourself from him, tossing yourself back to the bed, body drained, heart beating fast in the afterglow. Capturing his face with one hand, you meet his lips in a messy kiss, expressing your appreciation through searing passion. You’re still breathless, quivers residing in your fingertips as you taste yourself in his mouth, your kiss deep but far from consuming.

Jinwoo groans softly, cradling the back of your head as he licks his way inside your cavern, finding a different kind of sweetness that he pines for just the same. By the time he finds the strength to separate from you, lips swollen and glistening red, he rests his forehead against yours, trading small peals of laughter with you.

“My beautiful, beautiful wife,” he sighs, placing another kiss on your temple, his voice so raspy, it almost sounds like a purr. “Look at you looking so satisfied, all because of me.”

“All because of you,” you echo with an enervated smile. “That was… so intense…”

“Was there really any moment in our sex life that wasn’t intense?”

“True,” you titter, drowning too deeply in your bliss to care about the cockiness in his tone. “Oh, you still have a little…” You sweep your thumb across his glistening lips, wiping the rest of your… You can’t even finish your thought, sinking into an endless pit of shame for making a complete mess of his face. But of course, your husband doesn't mind. He welcomes the taste, grateful, even. He’d drink and lap every drop that seeps out of you had he been given the chance.

As if to prove his point, Jinwoo seizes your wrist before you can draw your hand away, pushing the same thumb that you used to clean off your essence into his mouth. He sucks on it, licking your digit clean, his eyes turning half-lidded, seeming almost drunkenly as he holds your stare. He’s so unbelievably, naturally, effortlessly sexy, he should’ve come with a warning.

“T-thank you,” you breathe out, dazed by how lewd he looks just now. “For, umm… You know.”

Jinwoo chuckles, gently pushing stray hairs away from your eyes. “Anytime, love. You were so tense at first; I was afraid I wasn't going to be enough for you.”

“You're always going to be enough for me. More than enough.” You brush your lips against his again, lighter, just another token of your gratitude. “It was just…” You can’t help but turn a little sheepish. “We hadn’t done that in a while, so… I think I got nervous.”

“I know. I’m sorry for not doing that sooner.” He tilts his head slightly to the side, painting kisses across the lines of your palm. “I thought about pleasuring you every day, but I didn’t want to get you all worked up when you were already so tired all the time.”

That's so like you to put my needs above everything else, you think to yourself, smiling fondly at him. “I’ll always have the energy when it comes to doing this with you, honey, you know that.” 

“Not once I’m done with you,” he says, a glimmer of naughtiness returning to his eyes. “But, no, it’s not about you, baby. It’s about me. I’m too afraid that I won’t be able to hold myself back.”

You stroke his cheek, pouting slightly. “I don’t think I’ve ever asked you to hold back. And I never want you to.”

He releases a breath, heavy with desire. You’re unaware of how much your honesty affects him; how it peels the grip he constantly tightens around his restraint. “If I don’t do that, Sweetheart, you’re never leaving this bed.”

But that’s the kind of heaven you yearn for, isn’t it? To be loved every hour, held every minute, fucked deeply every second by a man whose vigor and beauty rival the Gods himself? You refrain from telling the truth, however, choosing to humor him instead. “Then the world will lose their hero.”

“That’s right,” he taps your nose, adoration in his eyes. You look so cute like this, so content and blissful with an air of playfulness in your breath. “So, you better not tempt me, Angel.”

“Hmm… Maybe I should.” You slide a hand up his chest, your tone inviting. “We’re not finished yet, are we? You haven’t come.”

He stops your teasing hand, keeping it still above his heart. It races with need beneath your palm, but he puts a cage over it. “I wasn’t planning to.” It’s a genuine confession, you can tell. “Like I said, I just wanted to taste you. Besides”—Jinwoo flaunts his smirk—“we should finish our last game before we start a new one. You haven’t answered my question, Sweetheart—any of them. I’m curious about you, too, you know. And you haven't been playing fair.”

You frown, so close to jutting out your lower lip in protest. “You still want to play that?” Desperately wanting him to give in, you crawl back on top of him, resting your palms on the bed with his head trapped in between. Your chest, adorned by your nightgown, hovers just a few inches away from his face, giving him the perfect view of your cleavage. “You sure you don’t want to play a different game with me?”

Despite wanting to appear nonchalant, you catch him swallowing his breath at the sight of your breasts, his gaze darkening before he flicks his eyes back toward yours. “Being a bit bold tonight, aren’t you, Princess?” His hand skates up your thigh, slipping beneath the hem of your gown. “And very naughty.” Your lover cups your behind with one hand, his fingers squeezing your bare skin, while the other begins its own journey to your chest. “Want me to take you right here?” He palms one of your breasts, kneading it firmly from over your gown. “Right now?”

Fuck, yes. “Mm, maybe,” you croon, wetting your lip. 

“Don’t do that,” he warns. The sight of your tongue peeking out from between plush lips nearly pulls out a growl. “I’m already hanging on a thread as it is.”

Your eyes droop as your gaze descends to his lips. You bring your head low, your mouth a breath away from his. “I’m telling you to let go,” you murmur seductively, your lips ready to collide once more.

But Jinwoo, as stubborn as a mule, places a finger on them, stopping you just in time. “And I’m telling you to wait, Sweetheart,” he gently says, sitting on the bed while keeping you close. “It will be worth every second, I promise.” 

Honest to God? You’re pissed off and you’re this close to throwing a tantrum like a child, but your annoying, utterly adamant husband merely laughs at the sight, his fingers poking into your cheeks as he grabs you cutely by the face. “Look, you’re pouting again. This is why I love it when you’re being needy. You always make this face and it’s just so”—he releases you just to plant a tantalizing kiss on your chin—“fucking”—his tongue now glides across your lip, an act so sinful, it steals your breath away—“cute.” Jinwoo kisses you, deep and rough, his lips devouring yours, moaning against your mouth as he does it. 

You’re close to celebrating your victory of persuading him when he abruptly stops, breaking away and showcasing an innocent smile as if he didn’t just awaken all the butterflies in your stomach with that single kiss. “You look the prettiest when you cry, the cutest when you pout, and the sexiest when you're angry. Now you know why I can’t stop teasing you, don’t you, Angel? You're just so damn addicting.”

Not letting his words get to your head, you swat his hand away, glaring. “You’re postponing sex just because you want to see me pout?”

“Maybe.” He can't help the little grin that plays across his face, hearing your protest. “But also, you just came a minute ago. I don't want to—what’s the word—overstimulate you.”

“As if you haven’t done that before,” you snort, nearly forgetting your goal of getting him back to bed. You switch back quickly. You still have a little devil to seduce. “Which I love, obviously. And I can come again, you know.”

“Oh, I know you can,” he smirks, nothing but enticing. “I’ll make sure you do. But first, you need to answer my questions.”

“Oh my God, fine,” you groan loudly, tossing your head back in frustration. You stand on your knees on the bed, towering a few inches above him with his thighs caged in between them. “Can we, at least, do that while making out?” It’s pathetic that you ask that, but at this point, you’ll take even the little crumbs of his passion.

“You know I would, but clearly, someone can’t afford even the tiniest bit of distraction, so I think we should leave it right here. For now.” He fixes the strap of your gown with a bemused look on his face. “As much as I would love to make love to you right now, Sweetheart, let’s be patient.” He circles his arms around your waist, drawing you close enough until his breath caresses your chest as he speaks. He looks up, placing an idle kiss right above your heart. “You know how I am, don’t you? I love taking my time with you.”

“Saying that while you’re quite literally poking me with your dick is insane, actually.”

“And that”—he boops your nose, his grin cheeky—“is the other tiny distraction you need to ignore.”

“Yeah, it's definitely tiny. Your dick, that is.”

He rolls his eyes. “Mm-hmm, sure. Now, answer me. If you had to choose one of my features to keep, what would it be? My tiny dick is not an option.”

Perhaps it’s driven by the urgent desire to get this stupid game over with, or maybe it’s because your mind is still gyrating from how warm and amazing his mouth felt on you earlier—whatever it is, your answer slips out before you can put a filter on it. “Everything.”

Jinwoo stops for a bit, his eyes blinking in surprise at how easily and genuinely your reply topples out of your mouth. For a brief moment, you wonder if you should take it back to regain some of your dignity, but after what he’s done to you—for you—you figure he deserves every bit of your honesty. “E-Everything,” you repeat with heat creeping up your cheeks. “I love everything about you, so… I’d want to keep all of them.”

His gaze softens, his smile carrying a sliver of bashfulness that he rarely portrays. Though he’s overjoyed with your reply, he refuses to accept it as an answer. Despite his flirtatious tendencies, your husband remains a humble man, no matter how strong and how wealthy he’s become ever since he established his own guild. Narcissism has never been a part of him, especially when it comes to his looks. He has confidence in his body as he trains his muscles daily, but he feels average on everything else, and that’s why he treats the sweet confession of your affection as merely a compliment, but not the truth. “That’s not a fair answer, Sweetheart. Just one.”

As hard as it is to choose, the answer comes to mind within a heartbeat. “Your eyes.”

Jinwoo arches an eyebrow. “My eyes?”

“Mm,” you nod your head, slightly sheepish now that you need to elaborate further. The hand that you rest on his shoulder glides up to his neck, your fingers grazing against his undercut as you tilt his face backward, taking a clear look at the serene, pretty sapphires that have bewitched you from day one.

“I love how… intense they are, how expressive. They speak more than your words ever could. They’re haunting in the most beautiful way. So powerful that you can make any man cower under your gaze, even without a word. And I love how they turn soft and gentle whenever you look at our daughter. I love how…” You exhale, almost in reverence. Staring deeply into them like this, truly makes you feel grateful that you’re the only woman whose reflection is engraved in his eyes, whose name is etched in his chest. “I love how you make me feel so loved, so wanted, so adored, every time we lock gazes. And I love how they look when you… stare at me like this.”

His heart flutters as he hears you describe his eyes in such a way, never realizing just how much you’d paid attention to them. Hypnotized under your captivating stare, he utters a soft, “Like what..?”

Like you’re aching to take me, every part of me, claim it as yours and devour me until there’s nothing left of me to share with anyone else, but at the same time, to love me in the gentlest way. There's an equal balance of lust and affection in his gaze, the same amount of yearning and obsession. You're not sure how to convey that into words, so when you separate your lips, you say, “Like you… want me so terribly.”

He releases a faint, contented sigh, his eyes offering a new sense of tenderness as he looks at you. “You’re wrong.” Jinwoo tightens his arms around your waist, your body pressed flush against his. “I don’t want you, Sweetheart. I need you. I always do.” He adores the shyness that embellishes your face. “I didn't realize you love my eyes that much…”

You can tell how he, too, turns a little shy over it. Cute. Playing with the baby hairs on his nape, you tease him, “Well, don’t be too pleased about it. I don’t like them that much.”

“Oh? Then how much do you love them?”

“Like a normal amount,” you toss him a grin. “What about you, Husband? Which part of my features do you like the most?”

Jinwoo, so effortlessly, lifts your body and places you back on the bed, your hair strewn on the pillow as he hovers above you. “I love everything about you,” he confesses in a breathy whisper, just as sincere as the words you've spoken before. “I adore every part of you, even those that you try to hide, those that you think don’t deserve to be loved.”

His fingers trace the blemish on your face, the soft scars on your body that you’d gotten during your adventurous childhood days, the stretch marks on your stomach that never truly disappeared after your first pregnancy, and the little dark circles under your eyes from all the sleepless nights. Jinwoo adores all your imperfections, as they are still perfections in his eyes.

“But if I had to choose one, then I’d have to say…” His gaze cascades down your face, his thumb tracing over the shape of your mouth. “This.”

“My… mouth?” You reply a little hazily, your own stare falling to his lips. “Why…?”

“Because I love the way you kiss me,” he whispers, keeping his lips a hair’s breadth away from yours as he gathers what's left of his self-control to finish the rest of his answer. You can almost feel the shape of the words he speaks. “Your lips are a perfect fit against mine. I love how soft they feel, how sweet you taste. And they just look so beautiful, and so damn… kissable.” He bites his own lip, fighting the urge to claim yours. He doesn’t want to give in to temptation just yet. He wishes to douse the curiosity that brims in your eyes, even when your tongue is too shy to speak it. 

“I love the way they move when you talk to me,” he continues in sotto voce, his thumb brushing the edge of your mouth. “I love how gorgeous they look when you smile.” Every cell of his body, similar to yours, begs him to bridge the distance. “And when you say my name… The way these pretty lips look when you say it… It drives me wild.” His hand suddenly roams up your thigh, his fingertips lightly brushing against your core, eliciting a startled gasp out of you. “And that—those cute little noises you make when I touch you. Those beautiful, sweet little sounds…” He sighs longingly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “God, I feel like I’m losing my mind whenever I’m with you.”

Six years. Six years you’ve been together, yet you still have these effects on him. And his effects on you are even worse.

You’ve forgotten how many times he’s lit your body on fire tonight, merely by his lines. But perhaps it’s not because of the words he speaks, it’s the never-ending desire that coats them. He makes you feel like you’re a prize to be won, a heaven’s gift that he still yearns for, no matter how often he’s tasted you.

“But beyond all that… What I love the most about your mouth is…” He brings himself to your ear, his voice deep and breathy. “What you can do with it.” 

You shiver at the revelation, your heart beating in your throat. The way his lust drips thickly from each word…. He makes the line sound so filthy.

“When you kiss your way down my body… When you wrap your pretty mouth around my cock…” Jinwoo breathes out rather raggedly, getting aroused by the vision. His hips press down on you, slightly grinding against yours as he nips at your neck. “You asked me what ran through my mind earlier when I was on the raid. It was this, picturing you on your knees, your pretty eyes staring up at me, waiting—begging for me to give it to you. I imagined you taking me in your mouth, slowly, deeply, obediently like the good girl you are.” The raspiness in his voice tickles your ear, derailing you from your thoughts. “I wanna fuck your mouth, Angel. Wanna fuck it until you cry. Until you start gasping, gagging around my cock.”

This is new to you, this burning, stimulating sensation that pools in your stomach, the way your body is reacting to him. Jinwoo has never been so… brazen with his words before. He’s a romantic in his nature. Expletives come out sometimes in moments of desperation, yes, but he never really uses vulgar words to describe how he feels. Even when he talks dirty to you, his lines come in praise, sometimes even poetic in a way. You wonder if something within him has snapped from all these games you’ve played, the same way yours is about to. 

“So—so, why don't you?” You breathlessly ask. “I’d let you.”

He lowly groans, trying to rediscover his control. “Yeah?” He asks heavily, his hips still rocking slowly against yours, his hot breath falling on your neck in tatters. “You’d let me?” 

“Yes, I want it.” You nearly plead, your fingers grasping against his bare waist. But then, it dawns on you, all the horror that could happen. “Wait, actually, no, not right now. I mean, later when I don't feel so nauseous anymore.”

Jinwoo stops, looking at you incredulously for a split second before he bursts into laughter. “Yeah,” he chortles, his body vibrating with mirth as he lays his forehead on your shoulder. “Yeah, you’re right. I don’t want you to actually throw up on me.” 

To your disappointment, the sizzling tension between you disperses into nothingness, but seeing him laugh like that, so light and carefree, almost like a little boy, you can’t help but feel warmed by it. A soft smile ornaments your face as you watch him, committing every expression to memory. His laughter eventually recedes, replaced by a tranquil sigh as he looks down at you. “How many questions do I have left, Angel?”

Two, but your impatience tells you to cheat. “One.”

Although he narrows his eyes suspiciously at you, he relents. ”What do you like most about me?”

It’s the easiest question in the world with an infinite number of answers you can say. It would take you forever if you had to list his endearing traits one by one, something that you’d gladly do if you weren’t so consumed by this burning need to have him right now. You decide to say the first word that comes to your mind, the one thing that’s been stealing your attention since the time he kissed you.

“Your tongue,” you answer in a breathless whisper, your mortification sinking in only when it rings back to your ear. His tongue?! You reprimand yourself. Seriously?! It’s not that it’s wrong—his tongue is definitely something else—but to say it out loud?

You expect your husband to burst into laughter again, or worse, act cocky and cheeky about it, but his voice takes on a slightly darker tone, his body heating up above yours. “My tongue, huh?” His voice, low and deep, silences your thoughts at once. “And what exactly about my tongue do you like so much?”

Your face nearly explodes, but knowing how it already slipped out of your mouth, you might as well just tell him the truth. “I…” Your cheeks burn bright, your voice reducing to a murmur. “I love the way you use it when you kiss me.” And when you pleasure me, you want to add, but there’s only so much shame you could endure.

Jinwoo lowers himself to you, his gaze intense. “When I kiss you…” His lean fingers trap your chin, his hooded gaze falling to your lips. “You mean like this?” 

His lips move against yours in a sweet, slow, sensual dance, taking his time, making sure that you feel everything, every detail, every breath he releases that you consume, every movement he makes—the way he parts his lips, the way he parts yours, the way he deliberately drags his tongue from the bottom of your chin to the seam of your upper lip before he pushes in through the aperture just enough for you to feel him on the tip of your tongue, the way he tastes in your mouth, a bit of mint, and a lot of you. Everything fills your senses.

He breaks away to let you catch your breath, a string of saliva connecting the bridge between you. “Jin—“

“Not yet,” he dives back in, turning it up a notch. Each swirl, each glide, each roll of his tongue against yours feels like it’s in slow motion, your toes curling in the sweet torture he gives you. It feels so much more obscene, so much filthier than the ravenous kisses you shared before. He keeps the kiss slow but deep, exploring your mouth the way a yearning man would savor his lover’s last kiss. He breathes heavily through his nose, emitting a soft groan every now and then, addicted to the way you taste.

His previous kisses left you breathless, but this… This leaves you in a haze, so spellbound by his kiss that when he separates himself from you, you can barely remember your name. Your eyes, dazed and hypnotized, follow the way he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, now slick and swollen after being suckled. 

But perhaps, he shares your sentiments as well, because the second Jinwoo draws himself back, his thumb presses down on your lip, tugging it lower to see the sweet cavern inside, his eyes misted with hunger as if he already misses the way you taste.

“Jinwoo—”

“Do you know just how much self-control it takes to not just take you right here, right now?” The huskiness in his voice stuns you, so rough as if he were on the brink of losing himself. His eyes slowly journey back to your own, turning you into a nervous, excited mess beneath him. The intensity of his gaze… The depth… The vivid desire that leaves you gripping the sheets… “You don’t even know how sexy you are to me, do you, Angel? You and your pretty eyes and your little white gown, and these sweet”—he kisses you, lighter than air, yet he still moans softly at the contact—“sweet lips of yours.” His hand slithers to your neck, his fingers caging you, leaving you completely under his mercy. “Think I could just eat you up right now.”

Your heart beats in your throat. “S-sorry.”

He blinks before he releases a soft laugh, his hand leaving your neck to tangle your fingers together. ”Why are you apologizing?” Honestly, you don’t even know why. It just felt like you had to after messing with his sanity so much. Jinwoo, still smiling, applies a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “There’s no need for you to say sorry, Sweetheart. I love it when you make it hard for me to control myself.”

“You do..?” 

"Of course I do,” he presses another kiss, more playful this time. “I love it when you look at me with this look in your eyes. I love seeing you breathless.” He cups your cheek, taking in your features. “I love knowing how much you want me.” 

He can feel your chest rising and falling against his as the tension returns. Your breath comes in short, shallow breaths, his acute hearing catching just how fast your heartbeat grows. He’s close to losing it, even when he plays it cool. “Do you still have more questions you want to ask me?” Jinwoo says, despite his mind already drifting somewhere else. “If you do, then this is your last chance, Angel. I’m afraid I’m starting to get a little… impatient.”

You wish he could just sever it, that last rope that binds him together. And perhaps you can, he’s handing you the knife to do it, after all.

“No,” you breathe out. “No more questions.”

His eyes gleam, his lips curving into a wolfish grin. “Well then…” Without warning, he rolls you to your stomach until you’re pressed flat against the bed. His hips press down against yours from behind, his hand fisting a handful of your hair and he tugs it back, earning himself a low groan. Deprived of your options as you’re being held still, your eyes land on the standing mirror before you, just the way he wants you to. It reflects you perfectly, showcasing how helpless you are beneath him, the pathetic look on your face—so eager to be touched, and the way his gaze turns dark as it meets your own.

Jinwoo whispers in your ear, keeping your eyes locked with his in the mirror as he smirks. 

“Let’s play a different game now, shall we?”

***

Read the alternate/deleted scene here. It's spicier 😁🌶️

[lover-of-mine]

i haven’t been on in ages and now there’s all this discourse and you usually know things about everything

so what the hell is going on with 911????

Okay so, the 8b opened with buddie being a romcom intertwined with a criminal minds episode where Maddie and Athena try to catch a serial killer and Maddie tells them to kill themselves then gets kidnapped by them, she gets her throat slashed trying to escape, because Chimney shows up where she's being held, he doesn't know and almost gets killed himself, don't worry though, she survives and saves Chimney's life with a hammer, did I mention she's pregnant? She's pregnant, doesn't miscarry. It's a boy. Hurray. Eddie moves to Texas. Buddie goodbye in the rain sponsored by U-Haul.

Bobby's mother shows up, she runs a cult being a faith healer. She's dying of cancer though, Bobby then forgives her for leaving him alone with his alcoholic father and leaving him to become a child alcoholic himself. While we are figuring that out, Eddie isn't on the episode but Buck says his name 15 times, he hooks up with Tommy, then Tommy tries to get back together but he calls Eddie the competition, Buck snaps and says he doesn't want to fuck everyone he has feelings for and doesn't have feelings for everyone he fucks, then he escalates to somehow saying Tommy was accusing him of being hopelessly pining for Eddie. Oh, all this happens while Buck moves to Eddie's house, yes, Tommy hooks up with Buck on Eddie's house, fully aware it's Eddie's house then wakes up in the morning, buys champagne and about 100 dollars worth of groceries, because the competition is gone. It didn't go the way he was hoping.

Then we finally see Eddie in Texas, no one cares about what sent Chris to Texas anymore, there isn't an opening at the firehouse, Eddie doesn't have a job, so he sells the truck, becomes an Uber in a 8 minutes long montage of random people in his car, patches things up with Chris after Chris and one of his friends get him as their driver. The episode has product placement for Uber, Prius, Playstation, and m&ms. In the meantime Maddie loses her voice in some fear reaction to getting back to the job, she's fine though.

Four buddie facetime calls later, Eddie's parents are being demons, Chris throws up at his chess tournament, Eddie "dad's up" and takes Chris back. We find out he did ballroom dancing. Not relevant, just putting it out there. He didn't yell at his mother but he did leave his father in a city 6 hours away, you win some, you lose some. While this was happening in LA everyone but Athena forgets Hen's birthday and they keep running into the same guy. The guy hijacks a bus, accidentally stabs someone, Hen ends up hostage, the guy is actually quite nice, he gets Hen a gift. This episode is actually added at the last minute, allegedly finished about 7 days before it was set to air.

Maddie gets a failed gender reveal party. They answer to a pileup, Ravi doesn't check the backseat, there's a kid trapped, Bobby goes to get the kid, the car explodes, Bobby's survives, Ravi wants to quit, Buck doesn't let him, they answer to an explosion at a lab that researches infectious diseases. Crazy scientist creates a super virus to sell the cure for the pandemic she will start because she really really really wants a Nobel Prize. There's a second explosion, Buck is locked out of the lab. Chim is infected, Hen has a collapsed lung, Bobby does surgery. Their PPE is their normal gear and duct tape. They're diy-ing treatments as Chimney is dying on the phone with Maddie. They find out the cure is in the lab after the military decides they all can die, Ravi, they call him Rav now, goes to get it, they all get threatened with terrorism charges. The cure isn't there. Everything is lit in the bluest light ever created by men. Athena and Buck go after the cure themselves, they find it, the cure was in a bedazzled Stanley cup she stole from another researcher, this is not relevant, I just like saying it. But then the army and the fbi find them, because every law enforcement agency is in the case, they distract them, with a helicopter chase, sounds cool but it was really boring, the showrunner wanted it to be 4 minutes long, had to be stopped, Athena gets the cure to the lab. Chimney is cured. We find out Bobby is infected. He got infected saving Ravi. There's no more cure. Bobby is dead. All charges get dropped because they won't risk people finding out that there was almost an outbreak in LA. We don't see a body though. Eddie is not there.

But a bunch of stuff about this episode leaks beforehand, including Bobby's funeral procession, a script that shows his burial and resurrection in the form of a 911 call where he says he's being buried alive, and a video of Peter on set in uniform with everyone at the station post filming everything for his death. Everything about this decision is confusing. The episode is rated 4 on imdb. Kenny is crying in interviews, Peter says he doesn't want to leave, Angela says there's no Athena without Bobby. Oliver is being cryptic on Instagram posting and deleting pictures of Brad who would've died in his show but didn't, and referencing the Wrath of Khan in his goodbye post, Ryan is sharing edits of Bobby with a pink bow, Aisha shares a goodbye post with an emotional caption, deletes it and reuploads with a more vague one. A Disney executive goes on record about how they didn't want or approve of this death. Oh, while they were filming the procession there was an alleged fight about tomatoes between the Ryan and Lou. Stills from 813 were also deleted because there are lines of white powder next to Kenny, the actual scene might've been edited to cut that out too.

Anyway, there's a 2 week hiatus, nothing makes sense. Everyone is wondering if Bobby is dead for real. No promotion for the episode, jounalists get screeners day of, no interviews. 816 airs. It's actually about Athena helping a mother who thinks her dead son was kidnapped and his death was a coverup. Athena goes full Athena, exhumes the body, there is no body, all signs point to the mother was right, plot twist, the mother was wrong. Lesson to accept loss or something. Lowkey feels like the show is mocking us. Athena didn't want to choose where to bury Bobby, the military was holding up his body, Gerrard is back, Chim is firmly in the anger stage. Eddie is serving after having 50 seconds of screentime total in the past 3 episodes. Buck is somehow the stable one. No eulogies. The funeral is actually the last 5 minutes of the episode. Athena sends Bobby to Minnesota to be buried with his first wife and kids. No one but her and the kids are there. The scene is somehow the same from the leaked script. We brace ourselves for Bobby to rise from the dead. He doesn't. The episode ends. The water is on fire in the promo for 817. The episode is rated 2.2 on imdb. No one is happy. Even the Facebook wine moms are pissed and saying they'll never watch the show again.

And that's what you missed on Glee.

[littlelovelunette]

Sevika x reader who has faded stretch marks + a little bit of loose skin from weight loss :)

Slight angst?

Stretch Marks

Sevika x Fem!Reader

Angsty, EATING DISORDER, starvation, mention of vomitting.

★ It had to be the marks that decorated your otherwise plain skin. All over your stomach, your inner thighs and hips— you felt disgusting. You had been struggling so long with an eating disorder, trying not to vomit at the sight of food or even at the mere thought of gaining weight. The rolls of fat that caught onto your hands every time you caressed your own body— nothing but disgust flooded your mind and you wondered how was Sevika in love someone who ate like a pig? "Don't." Sevika said, her voice always firm, but this time there was a hint for something akin to desperation, "Don't," she repeated, "Don't do this to yourself." You didn't exactly know what that meant but you could guess she didn't want you to spiral into an unhealthy eating disorder. But it couldn't be helped.

★ You stepped on the scale everytime and the numbers carved themselves into your brain, and everytime you'd look at a sweet treat— the sight of the scale saying those numbers would make you shake your head. "I can't. I need to lose weight first." It's as if your cravings didn't matter. You saw the ice-cream truck that day, but instead of tugging at Sevika's sleeve like a starved child with those bright eyes filled with child-like happiness, you retreated into the depths of your bedroom.

★ Sevika noticed the way you pretty much gave up eating at a whole, the sight of food served on a plate? Don't even question it, you'd excuse yourself to the bathroom as politely as possible to throw up. Sevika stood outside, listening to the sounds of you retching and she'd feel bad because she couldn't do anything about it. She'd love to fight the demons that occupied your brain all the time now and repeated the number on the scale to you— but it was impossible and a part of Sevika still hated herself for that. Sevika needed to understand, she couldn't do anything about it. She tried everything she could but it simply couldn't be helped.

★ Your mood continued to decline and you skipped pretty much every meal until your sunken cheeks started to show, and your ribs began to stick out a little more than usual. When Sevika got back from work, she hugged you and tears flooded her eyes because she could feel how small you'd gotten. "Let's go out to eat?" "I'm sorry, 'm not feeling it..."

★ Now what was left of you? Not a skeletal figure but the loose skin from the rapid weight loss and stretch marks that stained your body. If possible you had only wished the transition would've been smoother than that. "I look horrible. Look, what I've done to myself." Sevika didn't say anything, stubbing her cigarillo out and pulling you in a bone crashing hug. "You're fine. You're okay, now." She whispered in your ear, her voice faltering. Sevika wasn't one to cry but seeing you withering in front of her very own eyes while all she could do was sit and watch, cook and watch every plate being pushed away or the food being played with but never ate?

Your hands found their way around her body and hugged her back, "I'm sorry." You said but your apology fell on deaf ears, Sevika didn't care. All she wanted was her angel back, and she was glad you were starting to realise what was wrong in your routine all along. "We'll work through this," she breathed out, and for once after a long while, you could feel her heartbeat in sync with yours again.

[meshaamem-li]

ok so i decided on a whim that I'm gonna try to sew @askoverkill 's Director with whatever scrap fabrics I have at home. so I'm gonna think out loud in a tumblr post because i have no idea if I even have enough materials for this.

so I currently have:

white minky

white t-shirt sleeve (stretchy knitted fabric idk what it's called, like regular tshirt fabric)

gray tshirt (stretchy)

black tshirt (stretchy)

black satin (i think??? some sort of plastic-y woven fabric i forgor)

dark red scraps (woven, not stretchy, a pain in the ass to work with)

red embroidery floss (and other colors if needed)

red heat transfer print thingie! literally the only reason I can make any of this because I don't have any scrap fabric in the right shade of red.

i worked on a very confusing 5 minutes sketch of the fabric to think in my head how I can use the fabrics I have to make this plush:

(reference images made by @/askoverkill ofc)

wtf bro why so many colors? it's my super stupid color coding

black: parts made of minky

green: parts made of the assortment of scrap fabrics

blue: embroidered parts

red: parts colored in with the red heat transfer print thingie!

more detailed unhinged ramblings under the cut, also go read this isat AU its amazing 10/10

rn my worst problem is that I don't have black minky, because the entirety of the director's body and half xer face is black. now either I color it with a sharpie (gonna stink the plushie and will probably wash off), or I use the black satin to cover those parts up (gonna look and feel like shit), or I buy more fabric (will take a month to arrive and costs monee ;^;), or I find an actual smart way to color the minky. oh wait actually I have black minky with 3mm pile, but that will make him a furry little fella and might look weird with the 1.5mm pile white minky. ill figure it out.

the red skirt is in the reference sheet but not in the plushie meme drawing so I'm electing to ignore it because I don't think I can just use the heat transfer print thingie to do it like with the hat and sleeve!!! sorry! I can do the bow tho!

I don't have any bells but I can probably find some at a craft store somewhere if I have time to pass through one at some point next weekend idfk. I could make some from polymer clay just to get the illusion but I don't wanna stink the oven... worst case scenario just pretend they're there ig?

i didn't finish my base sitting plushie prototype so this will probably not be done until that's done and I put that one aside to work on a gift for a friend so oopsie this is gonna take longer than I thought, at this rate I can just order the black minky and some random red fabric online and start working on it when they arrive. idfk.

im so making this before the hyperfixation gets overcome by procrastination. i can to it. i will do it. watch me. ill make her tiny if I have to to make it easier to finish in time but I WILL do it.

[realfullnameunavailable]

König loves touching you, but not out of sexual need, but because he adores you.

König x Male!Reader, Fluff, Slight NSFW at the end. Minors, ageless accounts DNI. I am not responsible for what you see on the internet.

That's just how König was. You were a treasure he wanted to explore further, learn about, and keep as close as humanly possible. He wanted your body against his, to feel your velvety skin under his rough fingertips and mold the curves of your body in his palms, memorizing every scar, freckle, mole, and dip that decorated your figure. He could spend hours counting the freckles on your back when you lay together in bed, caressing your shoulder blades and running his blunt nails against the curve of your spine, feeling you breathing slower as you relaxed in his touch.

When you were hanging out the laundry, he would hold you close, digging the pads of his fingers into the dips of your hips, feeling the bone there, and drawing mindless circles on the area with his chin resting on your shoulder, listening to you ramble about your day with the softest smile gracing his lips. He just loved you so much. You were the light that shone in his once-dark life, making everything seem pink again.

But sometimes, König could be a little too touchy. For example, if you woke up earlier, leaving him alone in your shared bed while you made coffee, he'd sneak behind you and rest his palms on your chest, giving you a tight squeeze and mumbling, "Why're you up so early...?" against your shoulder, trailing soft, feather-like kisses on the thin skin of your neck, sneaking one hand underneath your shirt to rest on your pectoral muscle, giving the tight muscle a loving squeeze, and getting a groan from you.

If the two of you lay on the couch and you were engrossed in your phone or television, not paying him attention, he'd sneak his hands under your shirt, pulling you closer until your back was pressed firmly against his chest. He'd nuzzle his nose in the back of your neck, caress your stomach, moving his hand up to your belly button and between your pectorals, and then back down, feeling your abdominal muscles contract and relax with his touch. He'd move his thumb down the trail of hairs under your belly button that directed his hand to his sweet treat, sneaking his fingers under the waistband of your boxer briefs.

But he wouldn't do more. He'd just touch you - taking pleasure in the smooth texture of your skin, resting his palm on your crotch, not trying to arouse you, but wanting to feel you. Feel your warmth radiating onto his hand, listen to your breath catch in your throat as you are unsure of his intentions. His free hand would move up to squeeze your pec, taking in a breath of your scent, murmuring nonsense against your skin.

Your phone was long lost on the couch. Your hand moved up to rest on his on your chest, humming as he caressed you. "König?" you whispered, wanting to understand his intentions, but he merely hummed, giving your inner thigh a firm squeeze, feeling your muscles tense and relax in his palm.

He'd kiss you, touch you, caress you, knowing you would leave whatever you were doing and pay your full attention to him.

He just loved you so much. He wouldn't do anything you didn't agree to, but he would touch you, feel you, because you were his treasure - the light that made everything in his life better. The person who made him understand that he could be human with you, not just a machine on the field.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

a beautiful little lie. [chapter 5] l Harry Castillo

Summary:  you are the personal assistant of Harry Castillo, a wealthy entrepreneur who asks you to go with him to his friend's wedding. there you meet your ex-boyfriend and things get out of hand

Warnings: fluff, friends to lovers (maybe?), some alcohol (a few glasses of wine and a beer), a few ambiguous situations, some kissing (?!), Mr. Murphy and his wife show up

A/N: i wrote THIS. i'd love to read what you think about it, or the whole story. calm down, i'm getting closer to drama and angst. i didn't feel confident writing this, because i was making a presentation and notes for school at the same time. multitasking! i'm glad so many of you liked this story, it's honey to my heart. thank you for being here.

your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

[my masterlist] [Harry Castillo masterlist] [a beautiful little lie- series masterlist]

“I brought you some coffee.”

You looked at the paper cups Harry was holding in his hands and smiled. “You’re saving my life.” You replied, taking one in your hands and quickly bringing it to your lips.

It was really early, but the airport was already bustling with activity. You had already checked in, but there was still a lot of time before your flight. A few days after the unfortunate party with your friends, you and Harry found yourself at the airport to fly to Los Angeles. Mr. Murphy had his way. He promised to sign a contract with Castillo, but forced him to personally show up at his house for dinner.

“It’s a business trip,” Harry stated as he told you to book tickets for the both of you. “I’ll get to meet a few more people, so you can spend your time however you want.”

You’d never been to Los Angeles before, so once the initial surprise wore off, you figured you should take the risk. You packed your bags and let Harry pick you up at an ungodly early hour so you could spend the next few hours on the plane.

Despite a few sips of coffee, you didn't feel more awake, unlike Harry.

Dressed in a dark green sweater and dark jeans, he curiously watched the other passengers as they made their way through the airport to find their gates. If he looked immaculate, then you were one of those people who traveled in sweatpants and sneakers.

It was only when you were waiting for the plane that you started to wonder if they would let you into business class in what you were wearing. Your worries were unnecessary though. Maybe it was Harry's charm, or maybe the staff was used to this type of passenger and no one paid any attention to you. The flight was really pleasant and you managed to doze off, but most of the time you spent watching movies and talking. The next few hours passed and you were surprised to see that it was time to leave the plane.

Without much trouble, you caught a cab to your hotel and an hour later you were relieved to be thrown onto your perfectly made bed. Your phone buzzed and you looked at the screen.

Harry Castillo: “Breakfast in half an hour?”

You quickly replied and got up to take a shower and change into something more appropriate. When you took the glass elevator down to the lobby half an hour later, Harry was already there waiting for you. The cream linen shirt fit him perfectly as he stood up from the couch and walked over to you.

“You look really pretty,” he said, his eyes adjusting to your dress. “I should have taken you on the trip sooner.”

“You mean I didn’t look pretty before?” you laughed, trying to hide the effect his words had on you. Harry was so casual that sometimes you weren’t sure if you were taking his words and actions correctly. Your brain could be playing tricks on you, and it certainly wasn’t professional.

It all came naturally, too naturally. Talking or being together was like being in a natural environment for both of you. A year of successful working together certainly had an impact on that, but Harry was just an easy person to like. You didn't want to exaggerate his behavior towards you because you knew it wouldn't lead anywhere. Castillo was your boss and that should definitely put a stop to any bold thoughts that were entering your head. But in reality, it wasn't that easy.

“Susan sent an email.” You said, clicking something on your phone and carelessly putting your cup down so it almost fell over. “Mrs. Kruger called to say… Hey!”

The phone was snatched from your hand and the same hand, Harry’s, placed it on his side of the table. “We’re not working right now.” He said with a smile. “I bet you’re hungry and what you ordered looks really good, so – eat.”

You rolled your eyes. “And if it’s important, what? Mrs. Kruger…”

“You’re important now. And your breakfast.” Harry interrupted you and took a sip of his coffee. “Everything else can wait. Besides, I’m your boss, not them, right?”

You smiled, but you had to admit he was right. The area you spent the day in was really beautiful, and the chance to look away from your phone and look around was tempting.

Mr. Murphy wasn't expecting you until the evening, so you didn't have to rush anywhere. Harry took the time to show you around Los Angeles, pointing out all the places he thought you should see. You drank your iced coffee, watching the people stroll along the beach, the sun warming your skin. If Harry hadn't checked his watch, you probably would have been late for your meeting.

"You're irresponsible," you laughed, stepping into the hotel elevator. "You should have gone to him yourself."

“Nuh-uh. Murphy made it clear he wanted you there too.” Harry replied. The smile hadn’t left his face the entire day, and he wondered if he still had control over his facial muscles. “We’ve got an hour, but if we’re late, he’ll forgive us.”

“I’ll do it in an hour.” You announced as the elevator stopped at your floor.

Before he could open his mouth, you slipped through the doors and headed down the soft carpet of the hallway. He watched you for a moment longer before the doors closed and the elevator started moving again.

He liked you. It was obvious to Harry. You were the only woman who had been this close to him for a long time and hadn't disappeared, made excuses or explained anything as "it's about me, not you". You didn't expect gifts or to indulge your whims. Yes, you worked for him. But outside of the time spent at work, Harry had the feeling that you really liked him.

Like today, when you surprised him and bought ice cream for both of you, which you brought while he was on the phone with Mr. Murphy. It was just nice and so natural that Harry didn't even notice when "Thank you, sweetie" slipped out of his mouth.

When he knocked on your door an hour later, he wasn't prepared for what he saw. You were wearing a modest but elegant black dress, your hair nicely done and you had applied lipstick.

"I'm almost ready," you said, entering the room and leaving the door open, which Harry took as an invitation.

The room wasn't chaos, but rather the pleasant mess that people rushing to dinner make. A few colorful magnets that you bought that day were lying on the table next to a cup of tea, and a pair of your heels were lying under the table. A few seconds later, you emerged from the bathroom.

"Can you help me with the zipper on my dress?" you asked, turning to Harry. 

"Sure." 

As he approached, he caught the pleasant scent of your perfume. Damn, he would have taken you to a thousand other places so he wouldn't have to take you to Murphy's manor. But you didn't notice the change in his gaze. You put on your shoes, grabbed your bag and were ready to go.

Mr. Murphy's house was located outside the city center and was surrounded by a beautiful garden full of trees and trimmed bushes. He and his wife greeted you with joy and led you to the spacious dining room, whose large windows overlooked the city bathed in the glow of the setting sun.

"I'm so happy you brought this wonderful person with you." Murphy said as dinner was served. "Traveling is always better when you have nice company."

"Indeed." Harry replied and you smiled faintly at him. "We spent the day walking around the city. It was really nice."

“You should go to the beach. There’s a beautiful place not far from here and there aren’t that many people there.” Mrs. Murphy took a sip of her white wine and looked at you. “You should go there. Nothing is as relaxing as spending the whole day in a place like that.”

“I would. If time permits.” you replied.

“Harry!” Mr. Murphy called to the man sitting next to you. “You have to take this lovely lady to the beach!”

You could barely contain your laughter when Castillo muttered, “Yes, sir.”

The evening passed in a pleasant atmosphere. Mr. and Mrs. Murphy told you about their travels and completely ignored business topics. In their company, you didn’t feel like Castillo’s assistant, but a welcome guest. When you left their house after midnight, you felt pleasantly satisfied with the day spent this way.

“Did you have a good time?”

You turned your head and looked at Harry. His shirt was already two buttons undone, exposing his neck. After a few glasses of wine, his eyes sparkled, the lights of the passing taxis reflecting off them.

“It was really nice.” You replied honestly. “Thank you for taking me here.”

“I had no choice.” Harry grimaced, but the corners of his lips turned up. “Murphy insisted you show up. If I had refused, he probably would have broken the agreement.”

“You’re awful!” you laughed, patting his shoulder. Harry took your hand and before he could stop himself, he brushed his lips across the back of it. Your heart stopped for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, carefully pushing your hand away. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s fine,” you replied, feeling warmth creep up your neck. Thank God it was dark and Castillo couldn’t see how his gesture affected you.

You couldn't take your eyes off him all evening. Maybe it was his fault, but you couldn't deny that there was something about his mannerisms that drew people in and magnetized them. When you looked at Harry, you didn't see the balance in his bank account, but a nice man who made those around him feel noticed. 

Just like you. You were looking for a job over a year ago, and now you were coming back from a delicious dinner with someone who used to be your friend. It would have been easy to fall under Harry Castillo's spell, and you were too weak for that.

The sand beneath your feet was warm and the wind was playing with your hair. You turned your face to the sun and closed your eyes. Even though you had your sunglasses on, you could still see the light shining through your eyelids. You took advantage of Castillo's meeting and went to the beach that Mrs. Murphy had mentioned. You found a nice spot, rented an umbrella, and then set up your things.

You pulled out your phone and took a quick picture, then sent it to Harry. The reply came almost immediately.

Harry Castillo: I'm jealous. Will you be there long? You: All day, I hope. Harry Castillo: Okay. ;-)

You had brought a book with you so you wouldn't have to worry about boredom. Time passed and you stopped reading in favor of short swims in the ocean or trips to the fruit and smoothie stand. You couldn't remember the last time you had been on vacation, but this few days away could easily be written off as "vacation." Harry had made sure you worked as little as possible and you weren't about to fight it.

“Maybe I should move the office here. What do you think?”

You looked up to see Harry standing over you. He was holding a pizza box, still wearing the clothes you saw him in this morning, but the sleeves of his shirt were already rolled up. He looked a little weird standing in the middle of the hot sand in such an outfit.

“I don’t think we can work here.” You replied. Harry sat down next to you and took off his shoes, pushing his feet into the sand. “How was the meeting?”

“Good. Boring, but it went well. I thought you might be hungry.” He pointed to the box. “Pizza. The one you like.”

“Thanks.” You opened the box and took a slice. “So... Two days and we’re back?”

Harry nodded, looking around the beach and watching the people. A few children were running around, playing with a beautiful golden retriever, while someone else was building a giant sandcastle.

“I could stay here longer.” Harry mumbled. “A completely different life than New York.”

“I’ve relaxed more in the last few hours than I have in the last year.” You replied, swallowing what was in your mouth and reaching for a bottle of water.

“That doesn’t say anything good about me.” Harry snorted with laughter.

“Sorry, boss.” You shrugged, but smiled back.

“You know what? I think I’ll go for a swim.” He stated after a moment, and before you could answer, he was already unbuttoning his shirt.

“W-what? If you tell me you’re wearing swimming trunks…”

“Black boxers will do.”

Harry stripped down without any embarrassment, revealing his broad shoulders and sun-kissed skin. You tried to look away, but it was really hard. He looked really good.

"Are you coming with me?" he asked, giving you a quick glance.

"Yeah, I think so." You replied, getting up from your towel and you and Harry headed towards the water.

The waves weren't big, and the water felt nice and cool on your hot skin. You quickly lost sight of Harry as he dove in and swam a bit. When he surfaced, he brushed his wet curls away. You couldn't help but smile. You hadn't seen Harry as relaxed as he was that day in a long time. The water and the beach seemed to be his natural habitat. You spent the whole day at the beach and it wasn't until the sun set that you gathered your things and headed to the hotel.

“Want to watch a movie?” he suggested, walking you to your room. “I know it’s late, but…”

Your lips moved completely unconsciously. “Yes, I’d love to.”

“Fantastic.” Harry beamed. “I’ll take a quick shower and be right back. We can order something to eat.”

“Sure. I’ll be waiting.”

The quick shower washed the sand and salt off of you, but didn’t cool your head. You had no idea what you were doing. However, when you heard a knock on the door after half an hour, your heart pounding, you opened it. Harry had already changed into comfortable sweatpants and entered your room without much embarrassment.

“We could watch the second part of the movie we saw on the plane,” he suggested, sitting down on your bed and reaching for the remote.

“Sure, no problem. Want a drink?” You grabbed two beers from the hotel fridge. Harry nodded and a few minutes later you were both comfortably sitting on the bed, watching the movie, drinking beer and waiting for the food you ordered.

“I like it,” he said. His voice sounded like he had been thinking about something for a long time.

“What exactly?”

“That. Us. I like spending time with you,” he replied, not taking his eyes off the screen, even though the movie probably didn’t interest him that much. “I feel good around you, you know?”

You didn't know what to say, or maybe you did, you were just afraid. But you couldn't hold it back any longer and the words spilled out of your mouth. "I like it too, Harry. You're a really nice guy."

Harry turned his head and looked at you. "Nice guys finish last, right?"

"That's not true!"

"Sure!" he snorted a laugh and took a sip of beer.

"Harry." You sat up and looked at him as if you wanted to explain something obvious to him. "I've been working for you for a year, I know what I'm talking about. You always make me feel important and heard, you value my opinion, and even outside of the office, like here and now, we can just be together and have fun. It was a really nice day, thank you."

He watched you for a moment, considering your words. They stirred something in him and he felt he couldn't hold it back any longer. There was something about this moment, or maybe between you. Something that wasn't fleeting anymore, was starting to take shape and was more than a boss-employee relationship. You had long since stopped being just an assistant.

He shouldn't have done that. It was definitely the drink he had with his friend and that beer, or the sun. You looked so comfortable and natural that Harry couldn't help himself. You didn't pull away when his fingers brushed your cheek and jaw, you didn't run away when they rested on your neck, you didn't push him away when he sat up and brought his face closer to yours, kissing you a moment later.

It was completely new and so different from that brush of your lips that you both experienced just to make Daniel believe that there was something more between you. Your lips were soft and gentle as you kissed Harry back. But when you parted your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue between them, he believed that this was actually happening. His fingers slid into your hair, pulling you closer. The kiss was deeper, more intimate and made you sigh, which he gladly accepted.

The hand that was resting on your waist pulled you closer and again - you didn't protest. Jesus, what a relief it was for Harry! He wanted to kiss you, he wanted you to feel that he really cared. But as soon as your hand touched his face, a vigorous knock on the door echoed through the room. 

In one short second, everything was interrupted. You pulled away from Harry, your gaze frightened. He tried to stop you, but his fingers only slid down your wrist as you jumped out of bed and took a few steps to the door.

“Good evening. I brought you your order, ma’am.” A polite male voice said.

“Thank you. I’ll take this. Good night.”

You pushed the small cart with the ordered food inside and when your gaze landed on Harry, despite his concerns, you didn’t look like someone who regretted what had happened. Quite the opposite, your eyes were sparkling and your face was glowing. You looked simply beautiful.

“I hope you’re hungry, because I can’t eat all this by myself.” You joked.

“We’ll manage somehow.” He replied. “Do you have any more beer?”

“Of course.”

And when a few minutes later you were sitting next to each other, eating the ordered food, watching a movie and drinking cold beer, you both felt that something had changed. It was exciting, new. And you just hoped that the next day you’d feel the same.

☆☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

taglist: @nrschuster30 @maried01 @lunariantears @thatesqcrush @suzysface @youkeeno @legoemma @nuo0n @sarahhxx03 @hazzzy418 @pedrofan @peepawispunk @readingiskeepingmegoing @maryfanson @anoverwhelmingdin @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi @axshadows @picketniffler @underneath-the-sky-again @kaysfanficcorner @noisynightmarepoetry @xmaykeca @orcasoul @sincerelywithheartt @southernbe @chaoticfestninja @telumendilsoul @hermionelove @paleidiot @lemon-world1 @diabaroxa @scarcetti @thatoneperson38747 @pascal-mynightlyobsession @sunnytuliptime @krystal---meth @nikoanna @capuccinodoll @titlee78

[phighter-kisser]

OH MY GOD THEY OPENED 30 SECONDS AGO WAOOHHH OK!!

may i PUHLEASE have a griefer x reader x hatred drabble!! my two incredibly Hateful girlfriends who love me teehee

oughh the toxic and hate-filled malewives not being subtle are we pp /silly

my first thought was headcanons but seeing drabble part made the cogs in my head turn,, these two,,, they're just cats,,, they get along one moment and hate eachother the next

i used he/they for hatred btw I DO NOT KNOW THIS GUYS PRONOUNS HELP??

this was nice.

snuggled between your partners, rain clattering against the window as the jungle leaves rustled outside from the wind.

your hand on griefer's thigh while he was sitting up and playing video games, occasionally mumbling and cursing under his breath, and hatred's arms around your waist, their breath warm against the skin of your neck.

the emotion's normally snarky demeanor was snuffed for the time-being, instead humming lazily as he peppered kisses across your skin, occasionally teasing you by dragging a tooth across your flesh, making you jolt in response. jerk.

"th3s3 d4mn kids k33p fuckin' up my high sc0r3," griefer complained, his red eyes narrowing at the screen, practically seconds away from tossing his controller across the room and then shattering it with a hammer.

"sucks to suck, babe." you replied, giving his thigh a small reassuring pat, refusing to open your eyes, even when griefer let out a confused sound - as if you didn't understand how hard this was for him. to be beaten by literal children in a game.

"wh4- B4B3! C'M0N!" he felt like dying instead, trying to figure out how to get you to sympathize with him and his ever-growing losing streak.

hatred smirked at the small back-and-forth between you both, his tail lashing against the beanbag before reaching over and just plucking the controller right out of griefer's hands and tossing it carelessly aside.

griefer looked absolutely dumbfounded, his glasses practically falling off his face. he covered his face with his hands, falling back against the beanbag with a loud groan of annoyance.

you simply shrugged at his over-the-top display, simply wrapping your arms around him and pulling him close, feeling how his body seemed to tense at the sudden touch before ultimately relaxing. if he was a cat he'd be purring by now.

the whole world seemed to quiet down. the three of you just wrapped in eachothers arms. in this nice safe bubble that you three had built.

"GAME!" boomed from the tv, a sudden reminder of the game still going on and the many chat messages of people telling griefer to 'do something'.

it earned a small snicker from you and a loud laugh from hatred. griefer was less than amused.

yeah, you'd do this again any day.

[sunflowerdigs]

Overall, that episode was completely underwhelming. Athena's case could have been solved from the start with a simple DNA test, so the time spent digging up the body and Athena investigating it just felt wasted. I get that part of the idea was Athena blowing up a case where she didn't need to, but everything the mother had gathered did give her cause to investigate. Hen should have pointed out how a simple DNA test would get Athena the answer she needed and we should have seen Athena acknowledge that. Otherwise, she just looks like a terrible detective and the whole storyline feels contrived by lazy writers. Angela Bassett was great, as always, especially in that scene with Hen, but the plot just didn't land for me

We didn't get much from Hen, which is a shame. I think she should have been the one to talk to Chim on the rooftop, especially because they knew Bobby the longest. Buck's connection to Maddie made his going feasible but the scene didn't have the kind of emotional impact a Hen and Chim scene could have had because the characters just don't have that "us against the world" history that Chim and Hen do (weirdly, the show even emphasized the period where it was just Hen and Chim in the flashback but then did nothing with that). I did like the moment between Chim and Maddie where Chim said that he was trying to figure out how to move forward, he just didn't know how yet. I like moments where a character could blow up and be in denial but they're quiet and introspective instead.

More to my point, though, there was no reason to show the flashback to the case in the past. The scene with Bobby and the mother could have stood on it's own, given that her grief was projected loud and clear through the scene at the baseball game. Additionally, we didn't need the scene where Gerrard gave the speech because the only point of that was to show Chim's anger. So that scene could have finished with Chim walking out. And cutting all of that would have given us more time to see Buck, Hen, and Eddie's reactions to Bobby's death. It seems like this is the only episode where they're going to give it any time. Next week is back to business as usual. So, overall, the episode was just really disappointing and left me cold, not emotional. Because while we saw the 118 sad, there was nothing about that sadness that felt specific to Bobby.

I'm disappointed that I wasn't right about Bobby coming back, yes. But if this episode had actually felt special and well thought out and had focused on the 118 as a family, I wouldn't have cared. I would have mourned Bobby with each member of the 118 and felt how his loss impacted each of them. Maybe I would have even considered watching the show beyond this episode. But instead, it ended up being rush because so much was crammed in there that didn't need to be. And Tim focused on all of the wrong things in his rush to get beyond the funeral and onto the next Big Fake 911 Disaster that doesn't have any stakes because so many corners are cut setting it up that all believability is lost. And you're left just watching the actors say their lines and wondering how much they laughed when they got the script. So. That's my take.

[scrivenger-grimgar]

oh, i dont think i'll change the cannibalism, shen yuan is going to be resigned to some things just happening but restricting him to woods town criminals, people causing problems, but thats after they both know they're married? qi rong stops eating people specifically to impress shen yuan, and it does, but shen yuan is like "yeah criminals i usually personally execute if they causing problems so i guess you can eat them, but let me kill em first" (aka the nobleman and his guard company lol).

i feel like shen yuan has a few strict rule and the rest are flexible.

if shi wudu tries to get shen yuan to shift shi qingxuan's fate he would refuse, not only bc he its not right but bc he can't. what he does is give people hints on what to do or not do, so his epithet is actually wrong, people only think he can directly interfere with fate.

shi wudu didnt even give shen yuan a name or location, so now shen yuan is just hunting down every reverend of empty words which takes decades even with hc's help.

so unfortunately the he xuan is still a calamity, and shi qingxuan does still ascend as the wind master. but their brother's behaviour after meeting with shen yuan tells them that something is wrong, so they're a lot more quietly shrewd and suspicious, and even more so when they learn from ling wen that gods from the same family AND generation are unheard of. so at some point shi qingxuan hears about the calamity can can change fates and goes to see him to see if anything weird was up with their fate going from bad to good.

so thats how shi qingxuan learns that their brother sucks and befriends shen yuan and figures out that ming-xiong is a ghost, so then shen yuan has to be mediate between he xuan and shi qingxuan while they figure everything out.

sqx just like "yeah, you could kill my brother, but consider: we work together to lessen his influence and force him into the lower court as humiliation, then we get married and you get to mock him as much as you want while i pretend to be oblivious and make things even worse for him!"

he xuan just falls so fucking hard for her after hearing her say that. sy being their councillor like "your fiance would want you to be happy, and if qingxuan-meimei makes you happy, she would be happy too."

sy and xl have never met before so xl gets three different first impressions mostly bc he thinks that hua cheng, shi qingxuan, and ling wen are all talking about different people.

ling wen tells of the dangerous fourth calamity, green silk weaving fates, able to bind gods in nothing but spider webs and cut them limb from limb with razor-like threads, not to mention his sharp tongue and skillful wordplay.

shi qingxuan talks about qingsi-ge, and how he's an incredible immortal artisan who creates all of their best clothes and how xl should absolutely commission him for some better quality robes because they'll last so much longer and be in the exact cut and style you want!

[qing si bian yun = green; silk; to weave; fate] [qingsi = fine black hair]

and then hua cheng who just like "oh thats my dumbass named shen yuan who helps figure out wtf is happening just in general. we have book club tea parties on the fourth weekday and sometimes we paint silk fans together, but he's not important."

the fourth impression is actually meeting him, where qi rong is causing trouble and hua cheng calls shen yuan to collect his creature of a man, and he drags qi rong out by his scruff while he's shouting profanities. he is given a silk muzzle very quickly. that is quite unfortunately a reward for qi rong even when it isn't meant to be.

the fifth impression is yin yu muttering incoherently, trying to clean up the remains of a brainstorming session from three calamities trying to figure out why tf theres weird shit happening for no reason.

also: ming yi, the weirdo architect, who really didn't want to ascend handing his divinity over to he xuan so he can work construction in ghost city. ming yi may or may not be shang qinghua. shang qinghua who never read tgcf, doesn't even know what the plot is, he's just kinda there maybe.

svsss x tgcf crossover where shen yuan is so dedicated to making sure his blorbos get everything they deserve.

shen yuan dies cursing out pidw as normal but he ends up in tgcf.

the book was his meimei's favorite and they both read each others favorites so they could yell about them together. he did not expect to end up loving this danmei so much, and shi qingxuan was his queer reality check. did he figure out that he was aroace-spec from relating to xie lian? yes. does he want to talk about it? no.

when he dies cursing out pidw he SHOULD have ended up there, but there was a glitch in the system and he ended up in a little village in tgcf. he knows all the plot points and character names, but he doesn't know where or when he is in the plot and he really wants to give his blorbos everything they deserve but he is a toddler.

so he just,,, lives. he knows he wont be able to cultivate, his family can't afford to send him to a sect, and his village doesn't have much outside of the basics. so when his family caught him teaching other kids abd realized that shen yuan could read? AND write?? AND do math!!?? well...

"meng po said i didnt need any soup." becomes the first lie he tells. he is so glad he retained his resting bitch face.

they think he might ascend as some legendary civil god. shen yuan knows he wont. and he doesnt.

his days are spent teaching other children, learning from the village craftsmen, listening to the brothel jiejies play music, panicking about his blorbos, and planning.

in his teens he becomes the village's official teacher, and officially apprentices under a cloth weaver and learns to make paper and ink.

part of him tells himself that he's learning these things ti help his family, another part says its to keep his mind off the plot.

his second death is uneventful, mostly because nobody actually realizes that he's dead. his parents were old, and his elder sister already married out, so he lived alone for 5 years already. dead at 27 due to a house fire, yet his soul is already strong enough to be wrath.

he comes to the very fair assumption that its simply due to his status not as a reincarnator, but as a millenial. the sheer amount of depression and existential dread he faced as a physically disabled terminally ill millenial in the corporate hell that is the post capitalist corporate purgatory primed his being as one that simply cultivated resentment like a finely aged wine.

but he so geniunely enjoyed teaching and learning that he just. never told anyone that he was dead. it completely slipped his mind as unimportant because he knows that ghosts in this world are just humans a bit to the left, and since he is still the same person as before, is just as much of a ghost as he was before, knows that he can still teach and learn the same as before. it doesn't change anything for him.

he just picks up his ashes, apprentices himself to the village potter, makes himself a new tea set, and weaves a beatiful tapestry dedicated to the only god who can truly do no wrong, yushi huang.

he continues teaching and learning, and genuinely caring for his village, carefully, carfully making sure he does not hurt his people, making sure he does not scare them.

the way his people discover he is a ghost is not pretty, but neither is it ugly.

a nobleman was in town to rest the night with his entourage of guards. one young lady working the local brothel is harrassed by the guards, so nervous she trips and spills wine on the young master.

the nobleman, covered in wine, tipsy and enraged, grabs her and throws her to the ground, yelling at her to grovel and apologise; he does not notice the hateful gaze of shen yuan, once playing a delicate tune only moments before.

shen yuan wants to stop this, but that would definitely reveal him as more than human. the choice is taken from him as this stranger has the gall to step on one of his own students, he feels his patience snap in the stunned silence of the entertainment hall.

faster than possible for any mortal, he stands by them, holding the nobleman by the front of his stupid fancy robes, panicked babbling about that bitch having her man-whore friend doom himself to suffer both their fates. one of the guards stabs shen yuan through the chest.

there is screaming as the village's beloved teacher is run through, even as he ignores the wound and drags the nobleman from the building, the guards running after them. shen yuan takes the entire group out to the forest with only the nobleman as bait, and uses the silence if the night as a backdrop for the unrelenting slaughter of 15 people.

when he returns, he is covered in blood, carrying everything they had on them. the word has spread. their teacher is something else. but that wasn't nesicarily bad. the nobleman's rescources are stripped of identity and spread amongst the villagers. shen yuan has not harmed them, only stepping in when one of them was in harm's way. they have known him for 30 years, they know he is nothing if not kind.

so he protects them. because they have always been his family. so for centuries he does. he watches his peers as they grow old and die, caring after their children and grandchildren and great grandchildren. he is their teacher. he is their uncle. he is their ---.

there was a period of time where the town thought shen yuan took on a heveanly tribulation only to reject godhood and return to the village. shen yuan tried to tell people that wasn't true, that he never became a god or refused godhood, that he was simply trapped in a mountain for a decade, stewing in a pot of resentment and accidentally becoming a ghost king.

he doesnt even know how he did that, just that apparently yoyos are similar enough to meteorhammers that he could apply the same concepts, and also that he had enough condenced rage and nerdiness to actually figure out anime moves with qi. so what if half of the ghosts in the kiln thought he was some kind of spider demon, he has cool threads that he can use to kill you.

and actually fuck you, spiders are pretty damn cool!

it starts not long after that. the prayers. his people are praying to him, as if he's some kind of god.

thats when he realizes. he can pray to the gods. he can pray to the gods, and they will only ever know the temple it came from. and really he's spent so long worrying over not just his blorbos but also his whole village, and really what is he if not an anonymous millenial internet troll.

and so it begins.

[shizukateal]

You are Mao Mao. Through some twists in life, a bit of meddling, and mostly a stroke of luck you've miraculously managed to secure a pretty comfy position as a poison tester. Unfortunately, you've become important at your job so one day out of nowhere the goddamn emperor asks you personally to take care of his sickly favorite girlfriend (you were mostly doing laundry 2 weeks ago). He's nice and polite about it but you know how this works, so you know that if you don't succeed in this your head gets chopped off.

Whatever, no choice but to go forward. You go to the palace and try to feed your patient but her classist attendants won't even let you get near her for fear you'll give her lice or whatever. What's worse they insist of force-feeding her 5 course meals to keep the image of her glamorous lifestyle going and you're not from the 21st century, so you don't know how to sell the simple porridge you've been making as a "clean detox diet" that only the Superior, Beautiful and Wealthy™️ enjoy like an instagram influencer would. If you knew how to do that these vapid idiots would be feeding of your hand.

This goes on for a few days and you are worried about your patient and your safety of course, but you don't see a point in trying to punch through the wall that are these shallow, catty bitches and their unbending egos. Even with the word of the emperor by your side they keep dismissing you and they are many against one, so causing a scene probably won't help. That is until finally your hot superior who is not the emperor helps you out because he knows everyone will bend to him since he's a hot man in a position of power. You don't like that this is what finally makes the bitches relent since, again, you're trying to do the job that the fucking emperor personally entrusted to you, but whatever. It's fine. It's cool, like Chappelle Roan says. At least you can finally take a closer look at your patient.

And that's when you find out that not only have these morons been dismissing you for no adequately good reason, and not feeding or cleaning the patient properly, and thus putting both of your lives at risk, but they've also been lathering fucking poison all over their master's face out of pride. Poison, mind you, that is the very reason you're in this situation in the first place because you went out of your way to stick your neck out to warn everyone to stop fucking using it as foundation near and for babies!!!!!! And because The Patient didn't listen to that gracious advice, she lost her son and potential heir to the throne of goddamn China. So her boyfriend who, and this cannot be reiterated enough, is the current motherfucking Chinese Emperor got his ass off the throne to ask you *personally* to stop her from dying like their son. And yet, to quote a brilliant abridged youtube series, these *fucking masterminds*, by some herculean leap in logic that mere mortals could never hope to understand, figured out that it was more of a priority to give their cadaverous lady a pre-mortem make-up of lead so that her almost corpse looks pretty in case the Emperor feels particularly necrophiliac one night.

I wouldn't have the temperance that Mao Mao showed in that moment. I wouldn't have just slapped a bitch, drag her by the hair and dump the poison on her. I straight up would have force-fed it to her so that she dies in front of everyone as an example, then slap the rest until they bleed and only then would I become productive enough to save the patient. If I was in Mao Mao's position, all of China would've heard me scream.

[alikesical]

part 2.5 part 3 part 4 (you're here!)

Bruce Wayne x Reader, familial! Dick Grayson x Reader

“I’m leaving in three days.” you say, eyes locked on Dick’s sleeping form, lying still under the satin covers -the kind that costs more than your rent.

Bruce kept quiet, opting to stare down at you. “Give him some time to adjust.” you add exhaling softly, taking in the calm and quiet. Like you know this’ll be the last time you’ll feel this way. 

The whole night had been a whirlwind. From him appearing at your door -yet again- to Dick asking you to join them.

You tried to deny, you did. But you learned very quickly that the boy doesn't take no for an answer.

Being in the Manor after all these years felt suffocating in a way you couldn’t quite place. It was familiar, like an old song that you would much rather forget, but has been engraved in your heart.

Everything was in the same place as the last time you were here. Same tapestries. Same chandeliers. Even the portrait of Martha and Thomas Wayne seems to not have been moved an inch, casting its shadow over the house. A reminder of what has been lost.  

The manor was a picture suspended in time, a photograph left untouched by rot and decay. 

“You could stay.” Bruce's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and back into reality. You turn your head, finding him already staring at you, hands clasped behind his back. Hiding.

You don’t let yourself linger, turning back, focusing on the light rise and fall of Dick’s figure. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“He seems attached to you.”

“And whose fault is that?” the words spill from your mouth before you even get a chance to think them through. But you couldn't bring yourself to care for not sparing his feelings. He certainly didn’t care when he left yours bleeding.

“He needs you.” he says simply. Definitive. Seemingly cold. But you knew better.

“No he doesn’t.” you’re quick to answer. “He’ll have you, and Alfred,” you take a deep breath in, even if shaky. Trying to pretend this won’t hurt as much as you anticipated it to. “He’ll be fine.”

“Still,” he says, not looking at you, “You could stay.”

“You don’t get to ask for that.” you say, voice sharp. A blade Bruce wished he would never have to face again.  

“Listen-”

“Listen?” you laugh like he said a bad joke, looking bewildered at him, bitter, “You want me to listen.” you grimace, taking a step back, as if the distance would numb the pain that crept deep into your bones. 

“I don’t remember you listening, Bruce.” you spat, venom dripping with every word. “Or even giving me the chance to talk!” 

“I didn’t-”

“You didn't what? You didn’t say it? Didn't mean it?” your eyes flashed at his already half-baked excuse, “You called me a gold digger! And a leech! And I begged you to explain!” you jab a finger on his chest, “I begged you and you shut me off, sent me my merry way, and never talked to me again!”

“Let me-” he moves his hand, wanting- needing to touch you. Needing for you to let him explain, have you understand him.

“No!” you yell jerking back like a live wire yanked from the socket. 

You take a shaky step back, biting your cheek, trying to stop yourself from exploding in his face, not wanting to wake Dick up. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, the pain in your cheek keeping you from reeling, “You don’t get to talk!” you start again, staring him down, your voice calm but the bitterness bled through, much like his heart.

“You don't get to explain yourself! Not after all this time!” you hiss, lip quivering as you desperately held your tears in, teeth grinding.

“You were my best friend! You were my person!” Bruce could hear his heart breaking at the quiver in your voice. At the damage he had done. At all things couldn't say.

“And you dropped me! Like our friendship- like I meant nothing to you. So you don’t get to take it back now. You don't get to feel bad! Not when I finally got you to mean nothing to me!”

Bruce stays quiet. Staring at you unblinking. You like to think that once upon a time you were able to decipher his stony expression. And that, that was a long time ago.

But you'd be lying to yourself. Trying to bury the familiarity that haunted every corner of your heart.

“I’m sorry,” he says and the words ring though your brain, although hollow.

“You’re three years too late.”

I'M BACK but only for a short while, I'm still drowning in credit tests

I'm sorry it's so short this time around, but my brain is still filled with cascade reactions

In retrospect I should just have been writing my little fanfictions, I studied so much for this stupid credit and just ended sleeping through istg