#because I know he was losing sleep over it while trying to pretend he was fine

[crismakesstuff]

thinking of invincible today since it’s one month until season 2

[hyperfixiation-station]

Behind Enemy Lines Pt.1

CW: Torture, Canon-typical violence, talk of derealization, disassociation Summary: You were a friendly medic, captured years ago and held prisoner, forced to do do the bidding of your captors. Years later, a man by the name of Ghost is dragged in and changes the trajectory of your life. A/N: I had severe ADHD, and i am unmedicated rn, and it makes it really hard to work on things unless I get the hyperfocused drive for it, so I'm sorry I'm so bad at making the other parts to my fics. Know that I will never abandon them. it just might take me a while. idea part 2

You fought back, at first. Way back when you first got captured, taken from your base camp and dragged through miles and miles of harsh terrain, blindfolded and bound. A medic you were, yes. But your team had trained you with the best of them. You spent the whole time trying to escape, kicking and screaming until they bound your legs and gagged you. You spent the first month of captivity refusing to talk to them, hissing and spitting and pretending their punches didn’t hurt. But it didn't take you long to realize it was better to cooperate, or to at least be civil. Civility got you less broken bones, less pain, more rations, more sleep. Cooperation didn’t come till later, when you finally realized your team wasn't coming for youthey were dead but you didn't know that.

Surprisingly, the whole mouth-getting-sewn-shut didn't happen till a couple years in... they were torturing someone, a man who said he had kids and a wife at home, whose only wish was that they left something recognizable of him so they could get some closure. You begged them to stop. Begged them to stop when his wounds became too numerous to count, too much for you to handle. Begged because you started to care for him as he told you about his son and daughter, how they want him home for Christmas(You didn't have the heart to tell him Christmas was 6 days ago) Told them that he would die no matter what you did if they continued. Well, they didn't stop, and he did die... and you found yourself ringing in the new year by being strapped to a table.

“We warned you to stop talking with him.” They said as they clamped the metal shut over your forehead and chin, holding you in place. “We told you to not get attached, but since you can’t seem to do it on your own, we’ll help you.” The feeding tube came 2 weeks later, shoved up your nose when they realized you were starving...they couldn't lose their favorite medic of course.

You stopped paying attention to the passage of time after that, spent most of your days drifting in and out of reality, moving through the motions with a practiced ease. And it would have remained that way, if it wasn’t for a man in a skull mask with a team- a family- looking for him. 

Your first introduction to him ended up with you getting a broken nose. Per usual, you were shoved into the cell, medical kit in hand, ready to fix up whatever damage your captors had done the their poor prisoner.

The mask he had been wearing when you saw him dragged in was gone, and he had a gash that went all the way through his cheek that would need stitching up. You pull out your equipment, moving slowly towards his bleeding face. 

he headbutted you the moment you got close enough for him to reach, and the crunch of bone and the gush of warm blood followed, not that you noticed. You were still in that dreamlike state, not quite tether to reality in the way you should be. You barely noticed when they tranqued him, and the only reason you didn't finish his stitches is because you passed out too(it’s hard to breathe through a bloody, broken nose)

The next time you approach more carefully, but he’s no trouble. Mostly because they left him completely strapped to the table this time. Today was a rare day, a time when you  could actually feel your feet on the ground rather than just see them. You feel bad as you wipe him down, your eyes flicking over the myriad of scars on his body. What’s one more you think to yourself as you get to work stitching a stab wound to his thigh. Just barely missed the artery here…that could have been bad news. Okay tie it off and- there we go. I think the only other thing that need to- oh, is he…talking to me? I should probably pay attention to that.

“-here?” His voice is gravely, though you suppose yours would be too after being tortured. He stares at you expectantly, and you shrug. You don’t know what he said, and even if you did, you couldn’t answer. You just move to his wrist, snapping the bone back in place. He inhales sharply, but doesn’t make an actual sound, which surprises you. But you don’t dwell on it, wrapping a bandage around his arm and moving to exit the room. 

“Y’ no’ g’nna lemme off?” His voice sounds, “they said y’ would.” You spin around, staring at him. You're not stupid. And even if your…bosses had said that, you still wouldn’t do it. Being trapped in a room with a man who is at least a foot taller than you and looks like he could kill a man with his glare? No thank you. 

You take a step back, heading towards the door. The man lets out a sound you would barely qualify as a laugh. “Sm’rt then.” He says to himself, “No’ gonna be that easy.” 

The next time you go in, you can't help but wonder what they want from this man. By now they usually would have killed him off. Oh well, not your job to wonder. You clean him up, splinting the fingers they had broke when he talks to you again.

"why don't y' let me die?" He says, voice just as gravely as before, "Put me outa m' misery?" You don't respond, just keep taping his hand. IT's something you ad asked yourself, right at the beginning. It would be kinder for you to just let your patients die. But you couldn't do it. Partially because you were punished anytime someone died before your captors wanted them to, but also because you were a medic. YOu were there to heal. You couldn't stomach letting someone die by your hand.

"Answer me!" The man snarls, bringing you back to the present, "For god's sake y' never talk, fuckin' mute." You don't respond, of course. Just finish your task and leave him to his thoughts.

He’s angrier after that time, you’ve noticed. The few times you're actually present, he’s fighting you. Usually not with words, but he bucks and doesn’t hold still. He’s tried to grab your medical supplies countless times, and one time you actually had to be pulled out because he jerked his arm while you were stitching him and somehow managed to drive the needle into your own hand. The few times he does actually yell at you, you’re usually not paying attention. You can catch words like “Dishonorable”  and “Disgraceful”. You aren’t entirely sure of the context of the words, but you can guess. You’ve treated enough prisoners who think that you are the world's worst human being, a blight to the medical field, to guess what he's trying to tell you. 

It's funny though, this man so full of hate. Because, for the first time in goodness knows how long, your feet are on the ground, and your head is level. Something about this man, his angry, uncrushed demeanor, even after weeks of torture, stirs emotion in you that you can’t quite identify. And maybe you should be grateful, thankful your head is on right, but you're not. You so desperately want to go back to that place of apathy and detachment, where your emotions weren’t so strong, were the pains of mishealed bones and poorly healed scars didn’t plague your waking moments. 

Or maybe it wasn’t the man- The Ghost, as you found out he was called. Maybe it was the fact that something in the air had changed. The air was electric, charged with tension so thick you could feel it even alone in your cot. They were watching you, you could tell. Could feel their eyes tracking your movements in a way they hadn’t since first giving you freedom to move around. 

You're not sure why. It’s not like you have anyone to go home to. You were an only child, and your parents had died long before you reached 18. All you had was your team, a team that had seemingly abandoned you. So why would you leave? There was nowhere to go. And yet they watched you. Was it because you were becoming more aware, more grounded then you had been in a long while? Was it the man, Ghost, who had them on edge? 

The answer came two days later. You were in Ghost's cell again, desperately packing gauze into a gaping hole on his side. You don’t know what had happened, but for the first time in years you were dragged from your cell, your captors muttering under their breath in a language you still didn’t understand as they thrust you into his cell. Blood was everywhere. Your best guess was that Ghost had been struggling and an instrument had slipped and gouged out a hole in his side. So here you are, packing gauze into the wound as you try to figure out what to do to keep him alive with your rudimentary supplies. 

You pack another piece of gauze in just as the door goes flying open. Men, dressed in black, wearing the same mask Ghost was, come bursting in. 

“Get back!” The one in the front yells at you, gun pointed in your face. You shake your head, hands pressed against Ghost’s wound. 

“Now!” You make a protesting noise, trying to gesture with your chin. The man looks down, eyes widening. 

“Aw shit- are you the medic?” You nod almost desperately. The man looks at you again, staring at your hands. They are shaking, pressed against the wound as you try to keep Ghost from bleeding out. 

“Fix him.” The man snaps. You shake your head and look up at the man, trying to communicate that you need more supplies. 

“Use your words.” The man gabs the gun at you, indicating he wants you to get on with it. You stomp your foot, shaking your head again. 

“What, what's that supposed..…you can’t speak, can you?” You nod, glad he finally got it. The man groans, lowering his gun.

“You’re coming with us, but you make one wrong move, and I mean one, I will put a bullet through your brain before you can even speak. Got it?” He gestures to the other two men with him, and together you lift Ghost up, carrying him out to safety.

A/N- anyways, here's part one. Sorry if it disappoints anyone

tags, sorry if i missed any:

@redzluvvesage @just-a-harmless-potato-05  @vesna-the-spring @princess312 @norsehorseofcourse-blog @bonniperinktrance @soggywafflezz  @littlebunie @sirbonesly @havoc973 @mommymilkers0526 @thegreyjoyed @pinkiliciousgunp0int @poopoobuttsy @darcellethedreamer @kamote-kuneho

[dumplingsjinson]

List of “sweet and intimate actions which make me go feral and have me folding like a folding chair” prompts 

Character B carding their fingers through Character A’s hair and playing with the strands.

Character B peeling back the neck of Character A’s turtle neck sweater to trail gentle kisses down their neck. (This!! It is so hot, and it's everything I didn't know I needed until now, and I cannot stop thinking about it wlkfnlkwe)

Character B placing their arm around Character A’s waist while in public, resting their chin on Character A’s shoulder. “Hello,” they say in a teasing tone as Character A tries to grab ahold of their hand to keep it there but fails a few times before successfully doing so. 

Leaning against each other while in public.

Spooning and back hugs.

Character B letting Character A rest their head on their chest; lets them listen to their heart beat. 

Character B whispering sweet nothings into Character A’s ear.

Character B checking in on Character A to make sure they’re comfortable and okay with the way things are going; to make sure they’re not being too much. “You’re not,” Character A would reassure, repositioning themselves to get closer to Character B.

Just cuddles and snuggles in general.

Neck kisses.

Kisses littered all over the face. (!!! It's one thing to read about it and one thing to experience it wlejbfewljn)

Character B tucking Character A’s head under their chin while they’re cuddling.

Character B nuzzling their neck and breathing in Character A’s scent/fragrance, and commenting on how nice they smell.

Character B making sure Character A gets home safe by driving them home.

Character A telling Character B to message them when they get back home safe, and once Character B gets home, they follow through by sending a message to let Character A know they’ve gotten back home safe.

Taking naps together, from day till night, waking up every now and then to get more snuggles in. 

That soft exhalation of adoring laughter leaving Character B’s mouth after kissing Character A (this shit had me folding so fucking hard it’s not even funny. I Am Weak). 

That soft exhalation of laughter once again just because Character B is so content with having Character A in their presence, and Character A just basking in how cute that sound is and how happy it makes them. 

Character B entangling their legs with Character A’s, pressing their bodies flush against each other’s, leaving little to no space between them. (It’s almost like they can’t get enough of Character A.) 

Kissing so many times, to the point where they lose track of how many times they’ve kissed already. 

Holding hands and lacing their fingers together while they’re cuddling.

Comparing hand sizes and giggling about it together.

Character B stroking Character A’s hair while they’re asleep. (Or uh, pretends to be asleep DJSKKSKDSK but it’s so FUCKING CUTE WHEN HE DID THAT IM GONNA SCREAM, me thinking moments like these only happen in Korean dramas or some shit anfkakfksk-)

The sweet little banters in between; Character B being all cheesy and Character A playfully deflecting their comments only for Character B to playfully push back with an “Is something wrong with that?” or “But I’m not lying.”

Falling asleep in each other’s arms, both not wanting to leave the bed for the entire day and wanting to stay comfortably snuggled up against each other instead.

Character B placing their hands on Character A’s shoulders, and Character A, with a grin on their face, gently grabs Character B’s hands and wraps their arms around their neck while leaning back into them. Character B reciprocates by hugging them closer to them.

The soft noises of content Character A makes when they snuggle closer to Character B, or when they want Character B to hold them closer to them, with Character B happily obliging. 

Character B rubbing their cheek against Character A’s.

Character B trying to not wake Character A up because they look so comfortable when sleeping. (His words, not mine.) 

Soft, repeated pecks on the lips, causing Character A to laugh/smile against Character B’s lips. 

[honeyedfate]

loverboy | 심재윤

pairing. jake sim x idol!gf!reader

jake is in love. completely smitten. and anyone in his immediate vicinity knows it. they also know that jake is an incredibly caring and thoughtful boyfriend and that he’d do anything for you. which makes it all the more frustrating when both of your fans believe that you can barely stand each other. they even have proof.

genre. fluff

a/n: wishing everyone a happy new year! may 2025 be kind to all of us x

[ › second part ][ › third part ]

jake is not a lover boy. he knows that. he’s never been overly well-versed in romance and he never pretended to be. nonetheless, he believes that there is a pertinent distinction to be made between being a hopeless romantic and being a good boyfriend.

the latter is what he strives for every day of his life. if romance is a language then it might not be his native tongue but, damn it, he works tirelessly to be fluent in it. he wears the title of being a good boyfriend like it’s a polished badge of honour, not expecting anything in return but solely doing it because he believes you don’t deserve anything less (and because he’s hopelessly in love, but that’s besides the point).

so how he ends up in this deeply offensive predicament is a mystery to him. he will lose sleep over it and will continue to do so until it’s resolved, which is seemingly why he’s sat in a meeting room at the company building, nervously spinning his chair while sneaking glances at you.

if he’s a nervous wreck then you’re the embodiment of a peace sign. he is simply in awe at how you’re this unperturbed by the presence of your managers, a pr team, a higher executive, and jungwon and chaewon. to say he was equal parts surprised and confused when he first walked into this room is an understatement.

it was exacerbated once you entered the room as well, looking just as puzzled and uninformed by this meeting as he was. you sat a respectable distance away from him, yet your presence still calmed jake down.

until it didn’t.

alarm bells slowly started ringing once he looked around the room. the bells were practically blaring when yuki said, “jake, as your manager and your friend you know that i only want what’s best for you. you know that. and y/n, you’ve been spending enough time with us to know that i’m fond of you, i think you’re a good kid. i care for both of you, which is the only reason why i’m asking you this.” he hesitated a little, taking a deep breath. “are you two dating?”

the silence was loud.

neither of you dared to glance at each other. an eternity must’ve passed until chaewon cleared her throat and said in a calm, steady voice, “it’s okay, guys. really.”

jake glanced at jungwon who was nodding eagerly. that was when you caught jake’s eye and he immediately knew you wanted to tell them. you had both talked about this before, letting him know that you wouldn’t mind if the company knew. you also knew that jake had his hesitations.

just telling the guys and knowing that you had told the girls nearly gave him heart palpitations. and it’s not because he’s distrustful, he just really values his privacy and keeping your relationship private felt like the right thing to do. thus, revealing it to the people presently sat in front him felt like a violation to his own peace of mind, but you both nodded and so it was out.

the response was nothing he could’ve expected. ever. because they looked… relieved? they actually looked quite happy. both of your managers had loosened a breath while the pr team had cracked tiny smiles or were trying very hard not to.

“what’s going on?” you said with a frown, having picked up on it too. chaewon gave a small laugh.

“well,” said the pr woman in a blue top. she picked up a black remote and pointed it at the beamer on the ceiling to turn it on. “recently, you two have been quite the talk on the internet. it seems that both of your fans think you hate each other. they’re actually pretty certain.”

and so, for the next twenty minutes jake and you were presented with a slideshow involving various headlines, articles, comments, posts, and video compilations from different social media platforms that had jake and you gasping in rotation.

“this one’s just dumb!” jake sputters, waving at the screen. “they’re saying i pushed her to the floor because she was dancing in her seat? why would i do that? she was sitting on the other side of the row, how could i have seen her!”

“maybe you sensed it and it really pissed you off.” you snort, holding up a folder filled with social media comments. “someone said i must despise your whole being because you’re introverted and i apparently have a personal vendetta against your people.”

“my people are your people! you’re an introvert too.” jake sounds desperate now. “where are they getting this from? all of these are so obviously a reach, come on.”

jake takes the folder out of your hands when he sees you giggling over a comment, prompting you to pout playfully. he pokes your side.

“you see…” jungwon speaks up, shaking his hair out of his eyes and clearly planning to beat around the bush. “is it though? not really. that obvious, i mean.”

chaewon hums in agreement. “i mean, i know you guys are in love, but there have been too many incidents that have caught people’s attention. it just can’t be a coincidence anymore, jake. the compilation is 30 minutes long, you know.” she looks at you and him carefully.

jake is beside himself. “you mean to tell me i pushed my girlfriend to the floor intentionally?”

“no, of course not,” says yuki with wide eyes, “we know you couldn’t hurt a fly if you wanted to, but, it’s just, well, how else did it happen? you mean to tell me y/n coincidentally fell against your arm when she walked past?”

“i’m just clumsy, guys.” you say quickly, moving your own chair closer to jake’s and bumping your legs against his in the process. “i was just walking down to my seat when he moved his arm because he was pointing at something. he didn’t even see me.”

“and when you were sitting on the floor right in front of him after the whole venue saw you fall, he also didn’t see you, right? him looking straight into your eyes and not moving a finger, so that a member from boynextdoor had to help you up also doesn’t have to mean anything, right?” grey sweater guy from pr chimes in, sounding amused and curious and very punchable (to jake, at least).

“yeah, what was that about?” jungwon says in a low voice as if everyone in the room had suddenly developed hearing issues.

“or when you went out of your way to pour champagne on her at the prada afterparty?” blue top woman adds unhelpfully.

your manager winces like it’s a traumatic experience that happened to him. “there was also that one time when fans saw you hiding all of the vogue covers with y/n on them behind a bunch of other magazines at a bookstore.”

“or when y/n handed you flowers on music bank when we won and you gave them back. on camera.” jungwon snickers.

“okay!” jake lets himself fall back against his chair, feeling absolutely defeated. “i can’t believe that’s how people perceived all of this. that’s…god, i don’t even know, but i can explain.”

“please do,” you say in a teasing tone, “because i am also starting to think you might actually secretly hate me.”

“what—” jake leans towards you abruptly, searching your eyes and you can’t help but laugh.

“i’m just joking.”

“get better jokes,” he grumbles, pouting, before letting out a long sigh when he sees everyone staring at him expectantly. “i don’t even know where to begin.”

“start with the magazines,” you say.

“oh, those...” he scratches the back of his head. “i was at a bookstore when i saw the covers on display and i just felt really proud, i mean you looked beautiful and it was a cool concept. so i took some pictures on my phone and when it suddenly changed to the front camera, i could see two girls looking at me from behind. i panicked and didn’t know what to do, so i quickly shoved the magazines behind some others hoping they didn’t see me take the photos.”

“they didn’t,” grey sweater guy confirms. “they only saw you hide them.”

jake nods. “yes, and at the prada afterparty, i just… i didn’t saw anyone filming us, so i thought it’d be safe to bring my girlfriend a drink. i was being subtle, but when i turned around, she was standing a lot closer than expected and i bumped into her. the whole drink just kind of spilled over and that’s when i saw the phones filming us.”

jake glances at you sheepishly, but you simply smile reassuringly, knowing that it was just an accident and he had apologised profusely that night. it was never that big of a deal to you anyway, knowing no one was mad that the dress had been ruined. reaching over under the table, you interlace your fingers with his and draw small circles on the back of his hand with your thumb, hoping it signals to him exactly that.

he goes on to say, “i also didn’t mean to push her at the AAA awards. it was all an accident and it happened so quickly that when i looked down and saw y/n there, i just froze. i couldn’t believe what had happened and also…” he clears his throat. “she just looked really pretty, like she was wearing that dress and her hair looked so—erm, yea, anyway. i malfunctioned.”

jungwon gives a small laugh, shoving jake’s shoulder as chaewon coos. you try to hide your grin when you see how red his ears are and fail miserably, but jake mirrors it, so you don’t feel too bad about it.

“and the flowers, oh my god, i don’t know why i did that.” jake groans like the memory still haunts him. “i just saw the bouquet and my brain went oh, flowers! i need to give them to y/n so i did. like an idiot. and i obviously couldn’t snatch them back when heeseung asked why i did that. it was embarrassing.”

the whole room erupts in laughter and you lay your head on his shoulder, saying, “it was cute.”

jake grunts something incoherent, but wraps an arm around your waist anyway, pulling you closer.

“you know,” the higher executive finally speaks up, still laughing. “it’s extremely relieving that you two don’t hat each other because your fans were really turning this into a battlefield. this, however, is much easier to manage knowing you are both willing to cooperate.”

jake and you exchange a look. “what do you mean cooperate?”

“cooperate in what?” you add on.

the pr team pulls out another stack of folders, each of them tabbed and colour coordinated. “we have a plan.”

grey sweater guy starts another presentation, revealing the first slide which says in bold, capital letters OPERATION: NO HATE, JUST DATE.

your jaw hits the floor. jake inhales sharply and says under his breath, “no way.”

next to him, jungwon grins, enjoying himself a little too much.

“this will be so much fun, guys!”

[ second part › operation: no hate, just date ]

[lxnarphase]

GOOD MORNING, BABY

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...ft. : h. hiromi + k. shiu + r. sukuna + h. kinji + t. aoi

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...cw : somnophilia (pre-agreed on), thigh fucking, penetrative sex, pre-established relationship, dirty talk, praise and degradation, breeding kink, sukuna is a dickhead, shiu really loves his girl, hiromi loses his shit, aoi is a great boyfriend, it's just really fucking dirty im not sorry

ᯓ ❤︎₊‧⁺...synopsis : which jjk characters would fuck your thighs while you're sleeping bc they're horny but don't wanna wake you up !!

who does it to tease you ↴

✧ k. shiu ; he's slow, purposefully grinding right against your sex, his cock leaking precum all over your thighs when he pushes through them. shiu thinks it’s so fucking cute how you try to grind against nothing in your sleep, he can’t help but tease you a little bit, a little smirk on his face at all your reactions

“always makin' me do all the work, aren't ya? hm, got a pretty lil' pillow princess on my hands...” “your man had such a tough day, and your here all comfy and sweet, waiting for me t' touch you. tsk, should've come home sooner, didn't mean to leave my girl waiting." “god, always loved how damn soft you are, angel. mm, so so soft and warm, jus' for me. don't worry, i'll wake you up with my cock cummin' all over your pretty skin.”

✧ h. kinji ; to be fair, you caused this. you teased the poor man all day, and kinji knows he's getting you back when you telling him you're gonna take a nap, rubbing your hands against his chest while wearing nothing but his t-shirt. since you're soooo eager to tease, he had no issues with teasing you back.

“hm? going to pretend you sleep? c'mon, sweetheart, don’t you want to be fucked? you're so fuckin' cute when y'wanna try and be stubborn, hun." "i know you’re awake, i see your pretty eyes trying not to open. all you have to do is open them and i’ll stop fucking your thighs and fuck you instead.” “thaaat’s it, baby, tha's my girl. rubbing up against me while looking so pretty. let’s give you a reward, hm? gonna pop the tip in an' see how fast we can get ya to cry for the rest of it.”

who does it because they are desperate ↴

✧ h. hiromi ; there’s no knowing what caused him to snap, but hiromi comes home practically feral. it's hot, so hot as he quickly takes off all his clothes, uncaring about his expensive suit jacket on the floor. he’s been thinking about you ever since he left his office, thinking about every curve of your body, every sweet noise you’d make, and how delicious you sound saying his name.

“honey, wake up, please. ’m not fucking you until you wake up and look at me. you're not getting my cock til you look at me.” “beg? oh, no, no, no, pretty thing, no teasing and no playing around. the only one that’s going to beg is you, baby. now stop being a little brat and be good for me, yeah? don't wanna punish you, not when you look so cute right now." "how about i just fuck your thighs and, cum all on them? you want my cum to go to waste? or do you want to be fucked full of my cum like a good girl? make your fucking choice.”

who wakes you up ↴

✧ r. sukuna ; sukuna doesn’t even go to thigh fucking, he skips that. no, he’s grumpy his sleep was interrupted by the annoying rush of blood to his dick. so now, he's biting your thighs, sucking on them before going down on you, using his tongue and fingers to prep you lazily shoving his stupidly big cock inside you, humming when you moan yourself awake.

“look who's awake. took you long enough, I put so much effort into making you feel good before I shoved my dick inside ya. hey, don't smack my tits, brat, i'll bite your damn hand off.” “hm? you want me to move? mm. why should i? ...because i woke you up? tch...you're lucky you're s' fucking pretty or i'd just jerk off and cum all over your face.” "fuck, always take me in s' fuckin' good...i trained this cunt right, now she knows how t' handle my cock. 'member when you couldn't even take half of it in? look at you now, turned ya into my nasty little cockslut."

✧ t. aoi ; you fell asleep in aoi's lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you rested your head against his shoulder. the thigh fucking was supposed to happen, yes, but you were tired, opting out for cockwarming him as he watched whatever show he put on. but then you started squirming around, whining so cutely in your sleep. how could he not take care of his girl?

“oh, hiii, bunny...you’re finally awake? hey, shhh, shh, 's okay, i've got ya. feels real good, right? y'just sounded so cute, i couldn' help myself, pretty, you were squeezing me so tight.” “too slow? do you want me to go faster, darling? all you have to do is ask....heh, no, 'm not being mean! i just think you're cute all sleepy, is all.” “it’s hitting deep? yeah? maybe i should lift you higher and slam you down to see how deep i really can go.”

[myderis]

(separate!) mydei, phainon, anaxa 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.5k

You smile as you turn to the Trailblazer, recounting an old memory from your childhood. "One time when MYDEI challenged me to a sparring match. He thought he could win because he was taller and stronger. Poor guy."

"You threw sand in my eyes." Walking behind with his arms crossed, was your favorite and only sparring partner. Shrugging your shoulders, you grinned at your friend from another world. "It’s called using my environment. Don’t tell me you’re still bitter about it."

"It’s called cheating," Mydei grumbles, arms still crossed. "I had sand in my hair for weeks."

You chuckle and look away, pretending to be innocent. "What? No, I never cheat... Okay, fine, maybe more than once. But he doesn’t need to know that." You lean toward the Trailblazer, whispering the last part while your eyes gaze at the prince.

The three of you continue exploring Castrum Kremnos, the ruins around you standing as a reminder of the past, their beauty still undeniable despite the decay. Mydei keeps a quiet pace behind you, but you can tell he's not truly mad about the sand—just reminiscing.

“My love, please stop doing that.” PHAINON sighed, watching you hold your cards, clearly plotting your victory. You were close to winning, if not for your very observant boyfriend.

“Stop doing what?” you peeked over from your cards, feigning innocence, trying to convince him that you weren’t up to anything sneaky. He really should sleep more, he was starting to hallucinate things.

“Hmm, I see. Fine by me, if you want to play like this.”

Uh-oh, trouble. You knew exactly where this was going. He already knew your tricks, but he was letting you think you had the upper hand.

"Are you sure you want to keep going?" His voice had a knowing tone, though his lips curled into that damned smirk. You smiled sheepishly, realizing he was playing along. But that didn’t mean you were about to let it go that easily. You leaned in close, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. "I’m sorry, love. Learn to accept losing."

He raised an eyebrow, but apologies can also be accepted with kisses.

No more philosophy, no more scholars, practical study, or politics… For once you are enjoying the peace, and unknowingly, ANAXA follows you here, ready to perhaps congratulate you for the well-done job at the Grove of Epiphany.

“You certainly know how to get someone’s attention. Quite impressive, darling.” His voice was calm as always, and all you wanted was an escape from all this tension and unnecessary stress, but apparently, you attract the things you don't want. You turned to face him, trying to mask your exhaustion. “I’m quite the charmer, you see,”

But the sage wasn’t fooled, not by you. He never was because, to him, you were an open book, one he’d read countless times but still found endlessly fascinating. Anaxa tilted his head, observing you and you knew what was coming. 

“I may not believe in gods,” he said softly, stepping closer, “but I believe in you. You did well, still tell me … was it really your work? Or was it borrowed brilliance?” You sighed, letting your head rest on his chest, and by the silence, he got his answer and for the first time in a long while, the sage didn’t press any further.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[samodivaa]

permeated by jealously

Paring: Bucky x Reader

Summary: In your tight-fitting red dress, you look ravishing for the date with a Russian guy—but the moment you retort to Bucky in Russian, it begs to be ripped from your body.

Warnings: smut, angst, kitchen sex, rough/possessive, unprotected p in v, miscommunication Words: 4k

Bucky's veins are full of the serum, but at this moment, they are full with belladonna tincture, the substance of jealousy. Seeing you with another man, he speaks of Love in the past tense. The scene that plays in front of him—that guy coming to pick you up from the compound, is perfectly adapted to a temporal phenomenon: distinct, abrupt, framed, already a memory. For a split second you stare at each other, you smile at him ruefully. A fleeting, lasting moment for Bucky. Why do you even notice him? Seeing you happy, gives mixed colors to the air of the moment—he is lost in time, sleeping being his only lover.

Bucky wants to kiss you. Instead he puts his lips on the tumbler glass, pretending that it is you. His t-shirt is unbuttoned at the top, and he runs a hand through his hair before he puts the glass down on the kitchen counter—flashes of you in that dress that you wear for your date and the way it lifts your body up from a single look races through his head.

His cock jerks and he shakes his head, grinning as he stares down the bottle of vodka next to his cup.

And, for the first time in his innocent and confined life, he senses in himself a potential for a different corruption that takes his breath away. He doesn’t blame himself. He is a curious, wanting thing—finally, enlightened and free, but also lustful and carnal. But It stabs at him, almost like a physical pain, and he feels both deprived and angry, deprived because Bucky wishes to be with you and angry, because his own choices causes him misery. ----- “It is almost like a reverse nightmare, like when you wake up from a nightmare, you're so relieved. I just wake up into another nightmare."

"And what is that nightmare, Bucky?" He keeps his blue, lusterless eyes fixed on Natasha with a calm but warm and kindly expression in them as he thinks how to say it  "My love life” “Maybe you need to ask her on a date, that’s what Vladimir does”

“Vladimir? Oh , so it is not just 'that one guy' anymore?”  he says in a quiet voice, without a trace of irritation, with a note of the simplest curiosity, his lips quivering as a forced smile comes on to his face. Nat momentarily startles. Then she starts to laugh. “You’re jealous of him?”

He clenches his jaw. “I’m not jealous,” a note of personal affront creeps into his voice “I don’t like his name”  ----- You are on a date, having fun—but anxiety grabs his mind, it is self-perpetuating. Worrisome thoughts reproduce faster than rabbits, he is trying not to lose his balance. Not yet. Especially when the jealousy sets in. 

Bucky is conscious every moment in himself of many, many elements positively swarming in him, ah these, opposite elements. He knows that they have been swarming in him since you started going out with Vladimir and they are craving some outlet from him, but he doesn't let them, would not let them, purposely would not let them come out, because he believes there is nothing so self-destroying, and so despicable, as his jealousy. He tries to appear as a hard shell on the outside when you finally enter the kitchen at 1 am—while there is a runny mess on the inside as he tenses, waiting for you to say something, anything. When you near the sink, your fingers find the curve of the faucet, the metal cool beneath the touch. He turns around to lean against the counter as you pour a cup of cold water. Bucky stares hard at you, watching you take a long drink then he follows the flick of your tongue over your bottom lip. His heart stumbles a beat. He is in such an irritated frame of mind, because of your quietness that in rude and abrupt fashion he blurts out the words:    “You must love that dress”

He takes time persing down the length of your body as you take a step back, watching you press against the counter and then back up before locking on your eyes again. You are not wearing a bra and your nipples harden from having his eyes on you. Red, the front needlessly too scandalous—at least for Bucky. The dipping v lets him see the swelled sides of your breasts pushed up and together. Just to be sure, though, a golden necklace with a teardrop pearl at the end, letting it trail just over your cleavage.

  “I didn’t know that you notice what I am wearing when I go out”

You answer, trying to look as innocent as possible. The vindictive smile that stretches on your ruined lipstick sends shivers down Bucky’s spine—did you make out with the guy, maybe more than that? You look beautiful sitting there looking at him like a she-cat. All he has to do is look at you, and he lusts. He wants to take off that delectable dress and make love to you until you don't have the energy to go out with anyone else ever again.

  “You’ve worn it for the second time. For your date.”

His gaze drops from your eyes, to the swell of your chest. Your chest tightens and you bite your lip to hide the grin wanting to escape. You notice the disgust written on his face and you laugh coldly, gaze never leaving his buff frame. With the certainty that you have well and truly punished him for not asking you on a single date. The angry, feral part of you feels so close to the surface that you can almost scent its blood-clotted fur. You want to lick the scratches you’ve made on him. You want to scratch him until he breaks apart. You gulp down the rest of your water to ease the heat flaming across your skin. Then you lick your lips. His gaze tracks the movement. You think you stopped breathing.

  “His name is Vlad” 

An audacious expression plasters on his face as you sigh in irritation at Bucky, rolling your eyes. Bucky is still leaning against the counter and rests his metal hand on the countertop while sipping vodka from the mug in his other hand. A beautiful yet deadly ornament—vibranium has no business being as hot as it is on him.

A note of personal affront creeps into his voice “Vladimir, mhm”

  “What else have you noticed about me?” your grin becomes a touch leery, innocently cocking your head to the side.

  “Try me” he says softly.

  “Favorite color?” you ask, interrogatively.

  He chuckles “Red”

  “Favorite quote?”

Your brows lift, anticipation making your nerves sing. You are not sure what he is about to say, but you have the feeling that it will be the right one, your heart leaps at the thought.

  “Much unhappiness has come into the world because of bewilderment and things left unsaid”  he answers, this time winking at you  “I know everything about you, sweetheart”   he adds and you feel like smacking that stupid grin off his face.

His mind works well when it comes to his work as an avenger, hovering on hummingbird wings, but when it comes to you, especially when you purposely play with his jealousy, It finds a way to push through any seal of his mind, his expressions are always an array of masks he uses to cover it up his emotions—but now, it is all over his face, pure surrender, because he is affected and you can tell, he is staring impudently at you, awning for your response.

  “I prefer kotyonok. Vlad says that cognac and wine is all for the heart and that vodka is for the soul. If it's hurting real bad and you’ve never had vodka before”

His brows lift, because this does surprise him and his stomach tightens at that particular Russian word. His mouth curls into a small snarl at the thought of that stupid man calling you that. A pang of jealousy surges through him. The bad kind. The kind of longing that makes him wonder that there must be a natural comorbidity between sexual appetite and sexual jealousy, between the desire to fuck and the desire to kill. He clears his throat, his face souring before his mocking tone grates:

  “Looks like you know a thing or two about me, too”   

He is trying to not be overcome by emotion. Emotion is the art of breaking hearts, minds, and tongues―but jealousy is too much, even for Bucky. He settles back into himself, shaking whatever momentary emotion flitted over his face and replacing it with a confident aura that screams laid back and in control as he cages you to the counter, his flesh hand still holding his half full cup. Your throat gurgles slightly, looking at the bigger frame towering you through your lashes like the starved woman you are. You are overwhelmed by his bold move, leaving you both speechless and breathless, but even then it is important to identify the correct emotion here—lust, a longing that goes on a loop. You try to ignore his hard cock pressing against your thigh, your attention remains on his face. You feel drunk without a drink, your nerves tighten, making your muscles clench―this is going exactly how you want. You want him to kiss you. But you make sure to keep your facial features mundane and level.   “If you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to think you have a crush on me, Bucky” You also ignore the annoying, visible blush on your cheeks, he must have noticed it because his expression goes grim for a second before a surprised laugh almost breaks free from his lips, responding only by a clink of his tumbler against yours. Judging by the rumble that vibrates in his chest, he likes your reaction, though the noise ends on a cynical note. His blue eyes drop to your mouth, warmth pours through your body and you moisturize your lips as he presses his knee between your legs. Right against your clit—you breathe out, a wave of pleasure sliding down your spine while Bucky just tips his glass back the last of vodka, allowing the burn to sear his throat and warm his stomach—while casually grinding his leg slowly against you, creating a sensation that has heat winding through your core and shooting down your legs.   “Na zdorovie” (cheers) You smile venomously with a kind of joyous sigh, your arrogance in this moment makes you feel very confident. Up to this moment possessiveness has not been that much of a torment, now it suddenly gnaws at his heart. As in slow motion, he pulls back to put both glasses on the counter. He realizes that you do something to him. Every time. It’s your only detriment this past month. To step on his heart—to test his feelings for you, and his jealousy already has made him erupt like a volcano. He has never been jealous before he met you. It burns. Some nights, watching you go with other men on missions, even that drives him mad. 

   “You and that fucking mouth, kotyonok” His voice sounds ill-natured, bitter, politeness that would only be laughed at, restraining an unruly nature, wary of the ways that you are trying to provoke him, but his tone shifts at the last word. Voice warm and low. Intimate. You like it this way. You like the way it sounds and it makes you gasp.   “You like this, don’t you, pretty girl?” Your character has absolutely changed. It is an entirely new and hitherto unknown being who now stands and stares at him somewhat lovingly. There is evidently, he concludes, something at work here, some storm of the mind, some paroxysm of emotion which he won’t question. When you say nothing, his hands move to your waist, his vision already blurring. His bones fill up with foam, a languid fear, and a terrible desire. You let out a deep breath and can’t deny the strange elation you feel when you feel his hands, needing more of it, of his touch. Your pussy contracts as his hands reach around, gripping a handful of your ass, forcing you harder against his both body and leg. The grip is both bruising and possessive, controlling every movement.     “Oh, god-” You open your mouth, and Bucky dips down, catching the moan with his tongue. Satisfaction sparks in his irises and he tilts his head and keeps watching you with those fucking lethal eyes of his. Bucky gives a small grin, a fake one. The type that shows no teeth and barely lifts at the corners. You feel a very small spark to your ego, knowing you are getting a rise out of him. But all of the playfulness in the air drowns beneath the intensity of his thousand shades of blue dancing in his eyes as if he is peeling back your mental layers, his eyes looking down watching the bare length of thigh that shows through the slit in your dress. 

   “You and these dresses” he groans. Whether you want to admit it or not, physically, this man affects you more than anyone else ever has, and that causes panic to percolate through every nerve, you feel like you are losing control, but you don’t mind it. You feel vulnerable, exposed, almost at his mercy at this point. Jealousy isn't a pleasant quality, but his jealousy is combined with modesty and there's even something touching about the filthy words coming out of his mouth. He wants you—and finally, he is not afraid to both tell and show it.

   “Ya ne mogu vyrazit', kak sil'no ty menya zavodish'” (I can’t explain to you how much you turn me on) Your lips part and you swallow audibly while he has the most delicious visual of his dick slipping between them, your eyes staring up at him in surprise and that sweet tongue running along the shaft. He surges forward, your face is an inch from his when you breathe out, he breaths in before crossing the final, tiny gap and pressing his lips to yours. It is not a sweet kiss. It is hard, demanding, and possessive, borne out of weeks of pent-up frustration and tension. His mouth is hungry and insistent, his tongue probing your lips, asking for greater intimacy. You grant it, tongues swirling together, yours follow his when it retreats and tasting his in return. When he finally pulls back, he rests his hands on your hips, and stares into your eyes for a minute.

  “Tvoy zapakh s uma menya svodit” (your scent drives me crazy) 

He speaks without haste, controlling himself so well, yet there is something in his voice, determined and euphoric, resentful and insolently defiant. Passion smolders in his eyes as he traces the line of your clavicle with his index flesh finger, pausing for only a fraction of a second. And then you become aware of all the magnificent silk wrapping around your body, you have the feeling that you might drown in his eyes, his two drops of winter rain.   “I would love to make love to you, but not tonight”  He studies your face, pleading silently for your approval, searching for the smallest sign, the slightest movement of your brow, the vaguest reddening of your cheeks, the surprise of your eyes. At that moment, your soul clenches as well as your pussy. The hard dick still pressing into you distracts you from replying. You can feel your panties dampening. And your nipples are suddenly incredibly sensitive, aching as they pucker against the material of your dress. Your chest warms, desire winding like a rope around your core. You think you like Bucky this way. A smile shows on your face. This would be invisible to any, but the closest scrutiny—Bucky has noticed it and taken it for his sign. Then he leans forward and presses his lips once more, his sugar roughness, his possessiveness is what you need to finally feel.   “What did you do when you went out?”   “We had a few drinks. We danced.” you reply, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. His lip quivers slightly, forcing himself to seem calm, but Bucky’s eyes are sparkling irefully, there is no doubt in his expression the full success of your endeavors to make him even more detested.   “You danced with him?” he asks, with sudden vivacity.   “Well, he is my date” You murmur, trying to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, you sense a physical weakness by the violent, unequal throbbing of your own heart, which beats visibly and audibly under the excess of agitation—but before you can even manage to open your mouth again, his metal fingers grab the front of your gown and pull it until it tears, no matter how beautiful, it was meant for another man—perfect breast on display just for him, his cock pulses at the sight. His touch tickles you on his way up to your boobs, skirting over your ribs before fully cupping them in his palms. “Tony’s rules include no sex in the common areas” “Fuck the rules” he grits out, more animal than you have ever heard from a human. And then he gives you a smile that just seems so genuinely sweet—with the filthy touch of his hands, that unexpected warmth rushes through you. His thumbs run over the hardened peaks, making you moan and his dick is so stiff that he is worried that he might come.   “Ty moya” he says coolly. (you are mine)

   He leans in, his voice a rumble in your ear.   “Moy kotyonok” (my kitten)

Bucky moves, gripping the meat of your thighs before he spins you harshly around and bends you over the counter. Your walls are squelching around nothing as you feel him pull back, murmuring something in Russian, it is sinful—and pleasurable, drawing a muffled whimper from your mouth as you hear him tear apart your panties. You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you hear his belt clattering noisily as he unbuckles it, popping the buttons of his jeans open, followed by the low purr of his zipper coming undone, he drifts his hands down his sides and hooks both thumbs into his jeans, sliding them and the boxers down his legs before pressing his body against yours until every inch of him melds into you one more. Bucky’s metal hand grips your chin and forces your head back while the other closes around your throat as his cock presses against you—chills slide up your spine, arousal sending a shot of adrenaline through your center as you feel pre-cum on your naval. Fuck, he is huge. There is a certain satisfaction in manhandling you into this position, the flesh arm tightens around your nape, holding you close to him. 

   "How about we make a deal? You wear dresses for me and I take you out on dates?” He rambles against your ear, tongue slipping out to taste you, just a little bit. His cock nudges around your ass cheeks, to your sleek mound until he gasps as he guides his sticky cockhead with his metal hand, gliding through your delicate folds and returning his cold grasp around your chin. He doesn’t say anything as he slips inside you with ease, your wetness sucking him in, making it easy for him to thrust into you until he buries himself to the hilt.     “Fuck, you feel good”

Bucky moans quietly as his eyes close, focusing on feeling your cunt wrapping around his dick for the first time. His lips stay silent, but he chatters with his fingertips, with the way his hands hold, the way he fucks you. You want to see his face, but you can only imagine how perfect he looks.

His expression is dreamy, floating. Soaked in pleasure—breathless, possessed, lost in the volcanic eruptions of fever, lust and delight. Your pussy cradles around his dick as he pounds into you from behind. It is an igniting feeling to have so much control over your body. It is sick and twisted, he has long learned to run from what he feels and wants, that's why he has nightmares. To deny is to invite madness. To accept is to control. And he needs to take control over something for once in his life. You. He has lost control over everything, even the places in his head. When your moans become too loud, his hand closes around your neck, slowly cutting into your skin while cutting off oxygen. It is more painful than lethal, but more erotic than painful. His growls erupt from his chest, the primal noise flooding your senses, making your insides clench around his length.

   “Come for me, drench my dick”

He whispers, fucking his cock against your cervix. He nibbles at your earlobe, loving the sharp intake of your breath as you struggle to breathe. Jealousy…teeth dragging against your skin, living marks. The primal lust, the sheer need to claim you, quickly finding ways to express his sacred hunger to you in animal passion. He snarls out gluttonous groans against your skin as you clench and seize, pounding you harder as your body contracts. Pleasure breaks out like a wildfire, reaching around your temples, shooting up and down your spine as his thrusts never falter, his mouth hangs open with bliss, his cock plunging into you with skin-slapping speed and he finally reaches his orgasm, cock spurting a thick dollop of cum with each throb.

Lust is the best of all the deadly sins, you realize as he pulls out and helps you go back on your shaky feet. It all happened too fast. You only wanted a kiss. You push his chest like you want him off of you, but your fingers have Bucky’s shirt clutched in them and he knows you are full of shit. You want him. 

   “I wish I could say I felt guilty for what I did. I don't.” The timbre of his voice goes into that low register that makes your insides curl in on themselves. You want that tongue to swipe your sex like licking the frosting off a cupcake. It is the sexual chemistry you want more of. It is electric. But guilt sets in. You are feeling torn between your commitment to building a relationship with Vlad while engaging with Bucky, in a way it feels like cheating. A part of you is hoping someone from the team would wake up and catch you, so you wouldn't have to live with this lie. But no one wakes up and in the silence that follows, you understand the nature of your new curse: you are going to get away with it. Your silence hurts him, his mouth tightens. But there are some wounds that he can heal only by deepening them and making them worse. And yet, sometimes facts are no more than pitiful consequences, Bucky knows how the public will perceive you if you are dating the former Winter Soldier. Seeing you standing there unresponsive makes him realize that silence has a sound—he knows that you regret sleeping with him. You are the people's favorite Avenger, the one everyone look up to with admiration and reverence—he is sure that you are thinking about it, but he understands. The blue moons in his eyes are glimmering with an emotion you can’t put his finger on—and he should be sad, but instead, he feels nothing. He feels a lot of nothing these days. He is empty, as if whatever makes him feel and hurt and laugh and love has been surgically removed, leaving him hollowed out like a shell. This is for your happy ever after, Vlad might be a stupid Russian, but he is at the very core of his existence—a real human. He turns around and paces the room, as if he can leave his regret, you, behind. But it cracks you as you see him walk away, leaving you naked like an ugly shadow made by himself. You have mistaken his lust for love. Regret. It turns into anger, into hatred. And where there is anger there is always pain underneath. You eventually come to understand that in harboring the anger, the bitterness and resentment towards Bucky who has hurt you, you are giving the reins of control over to him—maybe It’s time to finally say “yes” to being Vlad’s girlfriend.

[verstappen-cult]

taking funny photos of charles with max when he’s sleeping cause of his bedhair and the way he’s drooling all over his pillow, just to accidentally wake him up with ur giggles

“Shh, you’re gonna wake him up if you keep that up.”Max says, standing next to you and trying not to laugh too.

You’re standing on the bed, each of you at either side of Charles, hovering over his body.

“But I can’t,” You cover your mouth with your hand, stifling a giggle after taking another picture of him.

Charles hasn’t cut his hair in over a month, which means his bed hair is… something.

You like when your boyfriends decide to let it grow, it is not often because they need it short for their job, so you try to enjoy as much time as you can. Taking pictures when they are sleeping is something you enjoy very much.

“You’ve never done this to me, right?” Max asks and you look at him from the corner of your eye, grabbing your phone with a little more force than necessary, in case he decides to take it from you.

Max definitely doesn’t need to see the hundreds and hundreds of photos you’ve taken of the both of them in compromising situations.

“He’s drooling!” You slap Max on the shoulder to shut him up, which makes Charles groan in his sleep.

Thankfully, he keeps sleeping so you take a couple of more pictures from different angles.

“Now let me.” Max tries to take the phone from your hands but you move to the side which makes him lose his balance. He wave his hands in the hair trying to grab onto something, panic crossing his features.

“Oh my god you should see your face!” You exclaim, forgetting about your other boyfriend still sleeping. Of course you don’t waste any time to take a picture of Max before he, finally, grabs onto the headboard.

“You delete that immediately.”

You giggle, hiding your phone behind your back. “I did not do anything.”

“Y/N,” He says your name with that serious tone he only uses when talking about important things, the one he uses during meeting with Red Bull.

“But you look cute.” You look at him from beneath your eyelashes, showing him the picture.

“Delete that abomination!”

“Wha– what are you doing?”

You and Max share a panicked look before looking down at Charles who is rubbing the sleep from his eyes, confused expression in his face.

“Is that,” His eyes are locked on the phone on your hand. “Were you taking pictures of me?! Why?!”

“Yeah, Y/N. Why were you doing such a thing?” Max crosses his arms over his chest, pretending to be offended.

“What?! You were in this too!”

“Don’t believe anything she says,” The blonde-haired boy looks at his boyfriend with the most innocent look on his face. “I was trying to protect your dignity.”

You gasp, surprised but amused too. “Just because of that everyone will see the hundreds of pictures I have of the both of you that you don’t even know about.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Charles tries to defend himself but you are too busy having a staring contest with your Dutch boyfriend.

Things seems to have calmed down, but then, before anyone can know what is happening, you’re running out of the room with Max following you closely while Charles tries to look for some clothes in his still very sleepy state.

[logicallyblind]

Okay okay but consider possible batfam fic idea:  

so Bruce is in an emergency justice league meeting that got called but because its taking place at night he has a comm on in his ear playing at a low volume because all of the batfam are out on patrol around gotham covering his patrol route for him and because you know B is a paranoid, overprotective fucker he just to make sure everything is going smoothly for his kids but he doesn’t plan on actually letting them know he’s tapped into their network because he can already hear the lecture from Dick about trusting them to take care of the city.  

So he’s listening to them quietly while also paying attention to Clark talking about some alien diplomacy issue and his kids are YAPPING away about the stupidest shit to one another cause they don’t have B telling them off for ‘unprofessional unnecessary chatter while on patrol’ and  you’re getting a mix of all the dynamics between them all and the longer the meeting is going on the more B’s eye is just TWITCHING because his Dad senses are just going hay wire and he is just here like ‘I cannot say anything in front of the league because they cannot know I have children cause I'm Batman and I work alone blah blah blah’, usual brooding, but Damian and Tim are squabbling with one another about a rescue that took place an hour ago and Dick is challenging Jason to a parkour contest and Steph is challenging the Riddler to a riddle off with riddles she made up and have no answer just to piss him off and his dad sense is just like an alarm going off and then he just cant take it anymore cause Duke (pretend he’s on nightshift to make up for the man down or smth idk shh) says something like ‘I'm going to do my book report in the morning Richard leave me be’ even though Bruce KNOWS he isn't going to do it in the morning, this has happened before they have an AGREEMENT, a CONTRACT god damn it but they don't know Bruce is listening to the comms Duke just goes something like “its fine B won't even find out!” and Bruce just LOSES it there and then and just presses his comm and goes “NO. No, stfu all of you I am taking charge here” and he just starts going off on them all for the different things they were whining about like

“No Signal, go and do your damn book report right now you are not going to be doing it in the morning you always say you will and you never wake up early enough to get it done so then you end up speed doing it in the car while nearly stress crying and I am cannot deal with that while running on 49 hours of no sleep so go and do it right this damn minute. I am TIRED, I am tired boy go. GO. I love you, goodnight.” 

“N go and unload the damn dishwasher. I asked you four. FOUR days ago to do it and A is not coming home until next week please I am begging you I have been drinking my coffee out of bowls and a straw for days now. Thank you, I love you goodnight.”  

“Red Robin. Put the coffee down. No- I know its in your hand I can feel it. I can feel it in my BONES child you cannot hide from me, down. Now. Good. Get a piece of fruit and go to bed. No I don't give a fuck if- no. I don't care if the pentagon has laughably easy security to bypass right now it has been over 72 hours since you closed your eyes I WILL call A I will, I’ll do it right now. I’m calling him right now- good okay goodnight. I’m sending Dick to check on you to make sure you’re actually sleep. I love you too goodnight”  

“Robin I know you're there. Damn right go to bed, Titus can go with you yes you don't have to ask every night baby its going to be the same answer, I love you goodnight.” 

“Hood and Spoiler stop trying to goad rogues into fighting each other and go home. Hood will you- thank you. Goodnight I love you both....no S I will not ask Ivy if she’ll make you real life lil shop of horrors plant to leave at your ex’s house please stop asking. Goodnight.”   

"C are you- I love you too."

And he just lets out this enormous, patented Dad sigh and looks up after a few moments and realizes the entire justice league is just watching him absolutely GOBSMACKED because oh my god how long has this been going on for?? because like what the fuck this was cold, calculated, ‘they think he's actually a robot’ Batman, who just all of a sudden just went BOOM father mode is activated, this is a patriARCH, you know? Daddy bats alright. And he's just like, his facial expression doesn't so much as twitch but a light blush just appears on his entire face and then Clark is just like HEART EYES and Hal is just like HEARTEYES (??!!) and Barry is suddenly having a sexuality crisis because what the fuck is this, and Diana is just like, speechless but in love and he just mumbles after a few moments “...you can continue your speech Clark I apologize for my lapse in professionalism” and Hal is just like “NAH MOTHERFUCKER YOU ARE NOT BREEZING PAST THAT WHAT THE FUCK SPOOKY??” and then the entire situation just devolves in chaos.  

[hannyoontify]

seventeen '97 line as things that have made my heart flutter

warnings | smidge of academic stress in hao's, jealousy [reader's end] in mingyu's, reader is light enough to be moved? in mingyu's, implications of alcohol consumption in dokyeoms (oh my god what happened to 'none :3'), dokyeom calls reader 'pretty'

notes | learned today that extremely fast and aggressive jazz stimulates my brain in a way i've never experienced before so i decided to make the best of it LMFAO

p.s. i recommend reading these as situationships/pre-relationships

95 line | 96 line | 97 line | maknae line

the8 - facetiming at 3 in the morning

“hao? are you asleep?”

you heard muffled shuffling on the other side of the line and minghao’s camera, which was turned on and was currently facing the ceiling, moved around until you saw his eyes peek over the edge of the screen.

“no, i was reading. how’s the homework coming along?” his voice was impossibly soft and soothing, like a gentle lullaby sung to an infant to lull it to sleep. the question made you groan loudly and you dragged a hand through your tired face.

“i hate this. i have two questions left.”

minghao hummed over the line. “mmm… you got this, i believe in you. do you want my help?”

you shook your head. “no, i know how to do it, it’s just…” you let out a strangled yell and wrapped your blanket closer around your body. “i just don’t want to do it.”

“hmm… poor baby. c’mon. you can do it. if there’s anyone who can do it, it’s you.” minghao’s gentle words seemed to reach into your ribcage and grab your heart, gently squeezing until you felt something warm and familiar crawling up your spine. you observed the way his eyes curved into crescent shaped moons when he smiled. the bright green frog headband on his head that made his jet black hair stick out in unnatural directions. 

“… you didn’t have to stay up with me, you know.” you mumbled. while you were thankful for minghao’s adamant attitude to stay on call with you until you finished your ap chemistry homework, even if it meant staying up until the most ungodly hours of the night, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of him losing sleep because of you. 

“and leave you to crash out all on your own? what kind of friend would i be if i missed out on that?” minghao snorted on the other end of the line but when you gave no response, his voice softened. “you don’t need to worry about me, [name]. now get back to work, those FRQ’s aren’t going to solve themselves.”

when you warbled out another series of exasperated ‘don’t wanna’s’ and ‘i hate my life’s, minghao puffed over the line. “what do you want, [name].”

shifting your weight to rest your head on your desk, your eyes drifted to your phone propped up in the corner of your desk, where minghao’s screen remained facing the ceiling. there was an occasional crinkle on the other side of the line, where he was tossing and turning in his bed, no doubt. the blank, white canvas of his ceiling was the last thing you wanted to see right now.

“wanna see you, hao.” you mumbled. it was barely above a whisper and you doubted your crappy phone mic would’ve picked up the sound. but of course, it did.

you could almost hear the cocky smile in his voice as he spoke. “oh, i see how it is. you wanna see my face, huh?”

“shut up. forget i said anything.” pursing your lips, you pretended to turn back to your neglected ap chemistry homework so he wouldn’t see the way your face was beginning to flush.

minghao laughed loudly, clearly enjoying your pain and misery as you wallowed in your embarrassment. “it’s okay to ask for what you want, [name]. it’s natural.”

“whatever! shush, i’m trying to focus.” biting down on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, you tried your best to conceal the smile that was threatening to spill. minghao had that kind of effect on you. like an infectious disease that had your heart constantly racing, your palms sweaty, and your face a bright shade of red.

mingyu - grabbing the leg of your chair and pulling you closer towards his direction

mingyu was a force to be reckoned with. you recognized that the minute he introduced himself to you back in freshman year. the way he greeted you with a bright smile before turning around to greet all four other tables surrounding your shared table. before you knew it, the smiley boy had managed to befriend one entire side of the classroom, all within 15 minutes of class starting.

sure, he was easy on the eyes, but you knew it was more than that. it was the sparkle in his eye. the mischievous smile that seemed to announce that he was up to no good. it was the way he genuinely made an effort to connect and hear everything the other person had to say. he was a good person.

you, on the other hand, were not.

of course, mingyu would scoff and roll his eyes at that. he didn’t think you were a bad person, you were simply not as… friendly as he was. it wasn’t that you were rude, but you liked to keep to yourself. you liked to keep conversations, especially with people you were less than friends with, to a minimum. talking was exhausting, and making small talk was the absolute worst. silence was your best friend.

well, besides for mingyu.

or should you say ex-best friend. 

(you were joking. kinda.)

you silently huffed to yourself as mingyu flashed another friendly smile to the girl sitting across the aisle from him. his hands were busy enough, but it seemed to you that mingyu was too busy flirting with the girl to actually pay attention to the lab he was supposed to be doing. with you.

“gyu…” you called out quietly. “gyu…!” you called out again, a tad louder in volume.

mingyu whipped his head and smiled. “yeah?”

you felt a pang of guilt shoot through you at his innocent smile.

“we should get started on the lab.” waving the instruction sheet in your hand, you motioned to the microscope on the table before you.

“okay! one sec. lemme finish explaining this vanessa real quick and–“ mingyu faltered when he felt you gently tug on the sleeve of his lab coat. he looked at you with a confused look in his eyes, but his confusion soon changed into one of mischief once he recognized the slight scowl on your face. “ohhh, i see what it is. are you jealous right now?”

“no! as if…” you mumbled. “you’re supposed to be my lab partner, you know.”

mingyu let out a quiet chuckle and tousled your hair with his hand affectionately. “you’re cute.”

“shut up. i’m going to do the lab without you.”

with a dramatic sigh, mingyu leaned over, his face now inches away from yours. you could feel his hot breath on your cheek and it was like the world went momentarily still. there was a familiar tightening in your chest as your face began to warm. 

you felt a gentle tug beneath you, followed by a gentle rumble as mingyu dragged your chair closer to where he was. you thanked your lucky stars for mingyu’s baggy lab coat, or else, you were more than positive that you would’ve been able to see his muscles bulging through his shirt and god knows what that would do to you.

once mingyu felt satisfied with your seating arrangement, he leaned back in his chair with a proud smile. “there. shall we get started now?”

dokyeom - taking off your glasses when (he thinks) you’re asleep

you feel like dead weight. all four limbs attached to your body don’t feel like yours and you were 99% positive that soonyoung’s homemade fruit punch was laced with something, despite his claims of it being ‘family-friendly’. you groaned quietly. there was a pulsating headache slowly forming and you turned over onto your side, curling into a fetal position in an attempt to make yourself comfortable. 

to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure where you were. after having your social battery getting absolutely drained in a matter of 30 minutes at soonyoung’s halloween party, you stumbled upstairs and climbed into the first bed you saw. surely, soonyoung, or whoever this room belonged to, wouldn’t mind. 

the thud of the bass could be felt through the walls, which really wasn’t helping your case of what seemed to be a growing migraine. as you began to silently pray to any greater deity to stop the incoming migraine, you heard the door creak open slowly and you braced yourself to curse out whatever poor and innocent soul decided to walk in on you trying to take a nap. 

“[name]? are you in here?” the gentle and quiet words hung in the air, and you felt the air leave your lungs for a moment, suspending time.

it was seokmin.

your eyes remained shut but could hear him shuffling over to the side of bed where you remained in a fetal position. he held a cold hand against your forehead, sending a slight chill down your back. 

“no fever…” seokmin mumbled to himself. “[name]? are you awake?”

you really wished you could open your eyes and smile at the sweet boy who was in front of you, but you couldn’t muster the strength in your body to do anything. it was like you lost control of your body.

seokmin tsked under his breath as he muttered something about falling victim to soonyoung’s devil’s juice and something else about reporting to poison control. he reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his soft hand gently grazing your cheek as he did.

“here, let’s…” there was a gentle tug on the metal frames of your glasses that rested somewhat crookedly on your face, before it was pulled entirely. you heard two small clinks of metal as seokmin folded the arms and set down on the bedside table. “don’t want them to break again, do we?”

he chuckled gently, as if reminded by that one time you accidentally broke the frame of your favorite glasses after walking into a pole. you were deadly embarrassed, but seokmin thought it was the funniest thing in the world. 

there was a gentle dip at the edge of the mattress. you would estimate that it was a few inches away from your face and you tried your best to will your heart to steady itself.

“so pretty…” seokmin mumbled to himself. was he talking about you? oh, god. 

“i’ll let you sleep some more. good night, [name].” the mattress shifted again, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps. there were another pair of footsteps however, that you felt drawing near to your heart.

reblogs and feedback is always appreciated ^-^

[amazinglyashy]

hi hi~ i have a silly request if you're interested (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠) can i request the lads men's (pre-relationship) reaction to the reader introducing them to their boyfriend? but plot twist... its a fictional virtual boyfriend! just like the game love and deepspace LOL who would get jealous? who would have beef with a fictional man?? /JK

PS: im not sure how to say this properly but u like, write them so attractively 😵 if that makes sense, like the little quirks u give them and the dialogue, whoo weeeee 100/10!

This made me laugh because I still remember introducing my bf to my Obey Me boyfriends and kept trying to figure out which one was the most like him so he could buy me merch of them and push his personal agenda. Sadly none of them are like him, but now that I play LDS, Rafayel sure is! Thank you for the request! I had fun with this one! (And oh my gosh, that's such a compliment!! Thank you so so much, it means a lot!!)

Pre-relationship LaDS men react to your fictional game partner

Rafayel -

Who would have beef with a fictional man?

Rafayel would have beef with a fictional man.

He did not wait centuries for you, searching high and low for his lost love in every dark alley and bad idea that came across him- to lose to a bunch of pixels on a tech screen.

Truthfully, he knows it's all in good fun, and he's not completely jealous. He's actually pretty glad you found a nice outlet that helps you with relieving stress from you day to day. He knows you need it.

He's just... going to be now competing secretly with a fictional figure.

He thinks its secret.

You know what he's doing.

Why else would he be asking you what the latest event is in your game with your fictional partner, and then miraculously a week later you're receiving the very same things or experiences in reality on your day off?

He's not slick at all, and honestly, you find it pretty endearing.

But also, something you won't ever consider- is maybe he's doing those things for you, not only to make you happy, but to show you just how much attention he pays to the things you tell him about.

That's okay.

You don't need to know that part.

Zayne -

Zayne is not at all threatened by whoever this 'Jumim Hen' guy is.

Yes he is mispronouncing it on purpose. No he will not correct himself until he's gotten enough humor out of it and frustrated you enough about it.

Once that happens, he'll start pronouncing it correctly and if confronted about his change in pronunciation, he will pretend you need a wellness check and request you make an appointment with his secretary.

Smooth way to spend more time with you while subtlety calling you crazy.

He mostly does just think it's cute, though.

He will buy you food from places that might be having game events that get you special merchandise or in-game prizes, even if you don't realize there's a surprise event happening because it wasn't advertised in your game.

No, he's not weird and expects you to stop playing once the two of you start dating. He realizes it's something you enjoy a lot, and he actually finds a lot of pleasure in listening to you ramble about situations that are happening in your game.

He finds most things you do endearing.

Sylus -

You're giggling over it, that's all the matters to him.

He is rubbing the bridge of his nose though, because you had been building up to this moment for over a week and he was convinced you were going to show him an actual psychopath or something and he was going to have to figure out a way to make the man disappear without you realizing it was Sylus's doing.

He probably won't make any vague comments about how your fictional boyfriend is strangely similar to himself and that maybe you have a type.

Probably.

(He will make one per day.)

(At least.)

Once you're dating him, he has some access to your device and the game, simply so that he can reload your currency whenever you go to sleep. He doesn't want you to run out, and he knows you love playing. What else is his money good for if not for making you smile?

Doesn't understand it, but he does make mental notes of your current progress in the storyline and which characters you like. But sometimes he'll pretend to forget an important detail.

He loves hearing you babble about anything, after all.

Xavier -

He was a bit confused at first, but figured out what was going on rather quickly.

He thinks it's adorable, like when he first found out how much you love claw machines and the plushies inside of them. He doesn't see it as much different- the love interests are your plushies in the game, and your fictional partner is your favorite "plushie".

Easy.

Xavier has lowkey cosplayed your game boyfriend at least once, acting innocent about it and as if it was completely unintentional.

If you're dating by then, he lets you 'borrow' the clothes, so now you have an article from your game, but it also smells like he does. He's only allowed them back once they lose their scent.

He only accepts gratitude and payment for the favor of wearing them again in the form of snuggling with him on the couch, his arms wrapped up around you as he nuzzles into your neck.

He needs your "help" for a little bit.

It's the least you can do.

[suguru-getos]

soft yandere satoru hcs:

a/n: hey, you guys should know i ship myself with him so there's no way i'd tolerate insane yandere satoru without ki!ling myself :P soooo- here's me making him a soft yan ^^

warnings: yandere behavior, mentions of arranged marriage troupe, stalkingtroupe, angry!sato ofc but he is still normal about it. mentions of fluff because it's satoru duh <33 also, this is one of the softest yandere hcs i've ever written *giggles*

yandere!satoru who saw you the first time in a jujutsu clan party hosted by your parents and how insignificant you truly were. to yourself, you had the best parents ever, they didn't push you into becoming a sorcerer, but to the kamo, zenin, and gojo clan members it was pure bullshit. wastage of proper sorcerer blood.

until yandere satoru met you for the first time and you hung out, the way he conversed was so different from someone who should be the strongest, someone who wields the highest powers in the whole world. someone who's birth shook the shackles of this world alone. he was kind, he sat next to you, non-judgemental even so he was weirdly wearing that damned blindfold.

he talked to you about your life, and about his own. pointing out the subtle and the not so subtle differences between the both of you. asking if you had a boyfriend. it was so subtle how could you think he had any other intention but to be your friend? naive and stupid.

things escalated real quickly when your mother told you that you were supposed to marry satoru gojo, oh my god- the clan head of the gojo clan, the ever so spoiled, esteemed entitled brat. you really couldn't say anything about this, but to hold your guns you decided to contact him. "you knew that this was happening?" you mumbled, watching him stir the coffee in front of you lazily. "of course, gosh you are so lucky little one!" he snickered, though the way he looks at you, it's hard to process what he's truly feeling inside. you are unaware of his stalking, how he knows your colleagues, how they are what they do, what they eat, how they breathe, to whom you are closer to, who likes you- what time do you get up, eat, what snack do you like, ghana roasted coffees over normal ones. though he would not admit to it.

there are a few times he has watched you sleep like a creep, just sitting next to you, just feeling the innate feeling of sharing the same bed as you. how cute you are, he often mumbles to himself. "i could crush you without even trying" as a musing criteria for how naive you are, how cute you are and how absolutely adorable you are. creepy-

to pretend that he is more than willing to let you take things your own way, he lets you plan dates. cute, adorable dates. one of the days you would be doing pottery with him, the other time it's an aquarium date where satoru doesn't know why you're so mesmerised when the real awe is you, the other time it was a planeterium and that's when satoru shows you his abilities for the first time, holding you closer to him like the princess you are and walking on sky, as if it's nothing, amid the full moon night. the other time it's you and him making tiaras in a garden, sometimes he would just randomly pull you closer, kissing your cheek while languishing in a movie together. so cute, so astonishingly cute! maybe marrying him is not a bad idea???

things show you their true form when you were on a date in a high-end restaurant, roof-top and fully booked. he's always been so cute with you, you had opened up and been comfortable enough. until a waiter decided to hit on you, before long- you found him choking on his own blood, despicable sight of him oozing out blood from his eyes, coughing and dying in front of you. "wh- what was that?" when you glance at satoru, he is emphasising the same lazy grin, smirking. "what. go on? smile back!" he muses, and when you're a teary-eyed mess, he presents himself with a carefully painted visage of guilt. "oh no no- baby i'm so sorry- i lost it, you make me lose it! i love you so much please no!"

would not let you have personal space after, forcing your parents to hasten the whole marriage thingy, he thinks you would leave him and that has him acting out of character. though he now knows fear is a powerful tool, even though he does not want to use it on his darling. sometimes he can't help it, especially when you act so fucking adamant and so fucking stubborn!!

"listen, princess, here's what's going to happen. daddy's going to be really cooperative if you come here and give him a hug, daddy does not want to be a meanie to his little girl. you know that right?" by being a 'meanie' he just means getting angry, manhandling you against the wall, seething in rage and bubbling hot with the insecurity of your behavior being the slightest of different.

the thing is satoru really, really loves you. the prospect of being a yandere is more 'dere' in him. however when the yandere shows? that's when you should truly fear the capabilities of this man. satoru hates this but he can sometimes use your triggers against you. don't like being tied up, maybe an empty threat would get you in line, after all, you refuse to listen when he wants to love you!

he's going to make sure your engagement ring has a location curse imbued into it, he wants to know 24x7 where his baby is. one time you lied to him that you are at work when you were actually in a colleague's party, you were greeted by the whole party avenue being destroyed to shreds, people bruised and only you knew it was your now husband, because he texted. 'infinity protects you princess, not others. next time think twice about lying to daddy.'

his behavior can get hot and cold instantly, one moment he is the most adorable man-child, loving you, playing with you... until he's ticked off and the real, no-nonsense monster comes out to meet you. a scathing frown with glowy eyes as he reminds you that you belong to the 'strongest'.

there are times he does use sex as a weapon, a weapon to make you give in. he is just so good at it, he is going to spoil you senseless, kissing every square inch of your body, worshipping you, crying with you when he mumbles apologies for being angry and mean at you, for scaring you, you don't deserve it, such a pretty baby, oh you take him so well. he was made for you, you are the strongest because you have him wrapped around your pinkie... only to show you the rage and insecurity and all of it when you come home late.

the only positivity you have, is he would rather kill himself than hurt you. that brings you peace, that brings a sense of stability and sensibility into you to hang onto the rope of your relationship a bit longer, clutching onto the fleeting hope of him changing...

[cozage]

Hi! Can I request for Ace, Shanks react to their crush sitting on their lap because of a challenge/truth or dare game?

Characters: G/N reader with Ace, Shanks, Luffy, Law A/N: I loved this request so much I was losing sleep over thinking about this. It has been all I’ve been thinking about for the past few days. Thank you SO MUCH for this. I went a little crazy with this one and I added a few extra people just because I could not get this scenario out of my brain, but your requests are up first and the longest :) 

Cw: SFW and NSFW here. NSFW is clearly marked if you want to skip that portion. Minors - PLEASE DNI WITH THE NSFW!! I promise I will have so much content for you to consume, please respect me and my work and avoid the NSFW stuff. There’s also alcohol mention, drinking, heavy flirting

Total word count: 4.2k

Truth or Dare

Ace

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare.” You weren’t normally a risk taker, but you trusted Marco not to be too wild in his request.

When his eyes slid over to Ace and a smirk appeared on Marco’s face, you immediately regretted that decision. “I dare you to sit on Ace's lap for the rest of the night. Only getting up for bathroom breaks, dares, or refills.”

Ace tries to play it off as not a big deal in front of everyone. He’s known as a super cocky and charismatic guy by the crew and he’s not about to give up that reputation because of some dare. 

You know Ace though, and you definitely see his cheeks growing red as you walk over to him. 

He opens his arms to welcome you, mostly to make a spectacle of the whole thing to the rest of the crew, but you catch him shooting daggers out of his eyes at Marco when everyone isn’t looking. 

This man is secretly a NERVOUS. WRECK. Internally he’s so awkward and uncomfortable about being this close to you and it not being on your own terms. 

Ace has never even made a move on you before. You all have exchanged flirtatious banter frequently, but you’ve never been this close for this long. 

You try to ignore it, but you can see Marco mouthing things to him when he thinks you aren’t looking. Unfortunately you’re not a good lip reader, but you think you can see the first division commander mouth out “make a move” while nodding at you.

At first Ace was super stiff and uncomfortable with the situation. He’s leaning all the way back, hands hanging by his side. He’s trying to give you the space to feel comfortable, because he knows this has to be even more awkward for you than it is for him. He looks comfortable enough to everyone else in the room, but you can feel the tension in his movements.

One of the few times he willingly gives you more contact than you already share is to reach for his drink at the table. Anytime he reaches for it, his bare chest presses up against your back, and you have to resist the urge not to lean into his warmth.

You get up to get a drink for the both of you, and when you come back, you find him talking to Marco in a hushed tone. He sounds irritated, but when he sees you, he smiles and reaches out to you, welcoming you back into his lap. 

“Truth.” You were cautious to do dares due to the position you were in now. “Do you like sitting on Fire Fist’s lap?” Haruto asked. You shrugged casually, but you could feel your ears burning. “It’s not so bad.” 

After the initial awkwardness wears off and a few more drinks are in your alls system, you both get more comfortable with your situation. You all relax into your normal selves again, bantering and laughing.

When he says something stupid, you turn around and flick his forehead, and he pretends to pout and ignore you for a while. He traces lines along your back and tickles your sides to get you to squeal and squirm away from him. 

Ace gets up to do a dare finally, and you stay standing, waiting for him to come back. “If you need a nice place to sit, I’ve got a lap even better than Ace’s!” You laugh and politely decline, but you catch Ace glaring at the guy who attempted to make a move on you. When Ace returns to his seat, he beckons to you, and you happily sit down on top of him.

You get up for a dare, and when you come back to sit with him, a few guys jokingly question when it’s going to be their turn. Neither you or Ace acknowledge them, but as you sit down, Ace wraps his hand around your waist. He’s not holding you or anything, his hand just rests there. You like the feeling.

The next time you get up for a dare, he holds you back for a second before he releases you. You lock eyes for a second before he mumbles an apology and averts his gaze. 

You two alternate between you leaning back against him and him resting his head on your shoulder or against your back.

“I really like the smell of your shampoo,'' he whispers soft enough so only you can hear. You can feel him take in a few deep breaths with his nose pressed into your hair. There's an exchange of electricity between you two. He feels it too, but neither of you say anything. You just enjoy your quiet moment of shared intimacy.

NSFW

Late in the night, you get up to refill both of your drinks.When you come back, you sit down and shift a bit in Ace’s lap to get comfortable. You can feel him involuntarily grind into your ass, and without thinking you press back into him. Both of you are painfully aware of what you’ve both done, and your cheeks flush with heat instantly. It’s a bit awkward for a little while, but after watching a few more rounds of truth or dare, you’ve both moved on from the awkwardness.

A while later, the ship hits a rogue wave and you lose your balance. Ace's arm instinctively flexes to hold you in place on top of him. He manages to steady you, but he can’t save your beer, which splashes all over your shirt. You groan, and start to get up to clean it up, but his hand grips your waist and holds you in your place on his lap. He doesn’t want you to leave. “We can get you another shirt later.”

“I'm just going to go change, Ace. I’ll be right back”

“Sorry.” He sighed, his hand still tightly gripped against your waist, pulling you as close as possible. “That wasn’t a reason you could leave your seat.” 

“Ace,” you whine back to him. You really didn’t want to smell like beer all night. “Please let me change.”

His fingers do a light dance across your midsection, and he leans close against you to whisper in your ear. “You want help?”

Luckily your cheeks are already rose-tinted from the alcohol, or else you’d be giving yourself away. Unluckily, most of the room's eyes are already on you two, waiting to see what will happen next. It’s silent for a long moment, before someone shouts out. “GET A ROOM, YOU TWO!” You’re pretty sure it was another commander,  though you’re too focused on Ace to see which one it was.

 “I’m just going to change.” You call out as you get up. Ace follows closely behind you.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever!” A mix of applause and cheers echo from the room as you all head towards your cabin. 

Shanks

Word count: 1.1k

“Dare,” you say with a smirk. “Do your worst, Beckman.”

It was a game the two of you played often while on the sea, and you hadn’t lost to him yet. But his devilish grin makes a knot appear in your stomach. Perhaps you had taunted him too much. He lowers his voice so only you can hear. “Go sit in the Captain’s seat for ten minutes.”

You scoff at the notion. You were expecting much worse. “That’s not much of a dare, Beck. You had me worried.”

“You don’t think?” He raises an eyebrow and nods in the direction of the seat, and as you follow his gaze to see that your captain is currently seated where you need to be. “Go on then. And you can’t let him know about the game.”

That was always the rule. If people were on to your motives, you would lose the game. You were always sly enough to get by in the past, which is how Beckman always lost. Beckman nudges you on, and you roll your eyes and head towards Shanks.

“Hey, Captain.” You casually sit sideways on his lap and feign deep intrigue at whatever paper he’s currently looking over. 

He’s extremely taken aback and confused by your sudden comfortability with him, given you’ve never done something like this before.

He quickly recovers from his shock and has the biggest grin watching you examine the paper he’s holding. 

Shanks very quickly realizes he could get used to you sitting like this all the time, and doesn’t want you to get up anytime soon, so he ropes you into helping him with his current project. “It looks like a coded treasure map. I just can’t quite get the right sequence to decode it properly.”

He knows you’re a sucker for a good mystery/puzzle, and hands off the paper for you to look at. You quickly snatch the paper and actually start looking at it now, seriously intrigued. Plus it’s a great way to pass the time.

You almost forget that you came over here as a part of a dare. You stare at the paper and absent-mindedly lean into Shanks to get comfortable.

He wraps his arm around you to support you, and you take that as a further prompt to get more relaxed. By the time you’re both comfortable, you’re curled up his lap with your head resting against his chest. Your legs are propped up against one of the arm rests for support, and Shanks’ arm is wrapped around your back and is resting on your waist. 

You don’t seem to notice how intimate it is, preoccupied with the paper laid out before you. Shanks, on the other hand, is very aware of it. He isn’t a man who gets embarrassed easily, but he’s doing a quick glance around the deck to see if anyone’s watching you two and your very public display of flirtation with one another. 

As he looks around, he spots Beckman eyeing the two of you, and Shanks shifts a bit to pull you in closer to him. You hum pleasantly and don’t even notice Shanks and Beckman exchanging looks, your eyes glued to the paper.

Beckman just raises an eyebrow at his captain, who grins in return. The second in command winks at his captain and turns away, his mission complete. 

Your ten minutes flies by without you even realizing it. Thirty minutes, then an hour…

Shanks doesn’t normally like to stay in one place for so long, but he really enjoys having you so close to him and watching you work. 

The crew occasionally came up and asked their captain for certain things, and though they wanted to say something about the current situation he was in, nobody brought it up. In fact, they had a running bet for how long you all would stay there before you finally moved.

He would smile to himself every time you scrunched up your nose in frustration or mumbled random phrases to yourself. Normally he would tease you about such things, but he didn’t want to break your concentration or have you realize how much time had passed. 

“I got it!” Two hours had passed by the time the map was fully decoded, and Shanks felt his heart fall a little when you held the paper up in triumph. He knew it was much more likely you would abandon your seat now that your task was over.  

“It was actually three separate codes, all working off of each other's set codes, like a code within a code! So when you…” You keep explaining the solution to your captain, and he listens intently, watching your every movement. 

“You know, I’ve been trying to solve that problem for two weeks.” He laughs softly. “And you solved it in two hours.” Your face flushes noticeably. Two hours? 

“I didn’t mind it,” he says, as if he’s reading your thoughts. “It’s the best seat on the ship, after all.” 

NSFW 

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot at his remarks, and you quickly swing your legs and start to the ground to stand, but you’re pulled back onto his lap, straddling one of his legs. Your closeness over the past two hours has filled him with courage. 

“Hey now.” He presses himself against your back while he speaks, low and soft. “I don’t think I said you could get up yet.”

“Wha-” Your mouth falls open from shock, and you start to question what he means, but you’re immediately cut off when his thigh jolts upwards into the space between your legs, grinding against you. You clamp your mouth shut quickly, biting your lip to prevent a moan from escaping. 

“Captain!” It comes out as a low hiss, and you glance around the deck nervously to see if there were any witnesses, but the two of you are alone. You feel his leg buck against you again, and you squirm to get off of his thigh. But he has a tight grip on you, and moving around on him is only making him drive his leg further into you.

He hums in amusement, enjoying the attempt of your half-hearted escape. “Do you not like it?” He teases. “Your heart rate seems to be telling me something different.”

He’s right, of course. You are enjoying it. You don’t answer him, and he can’t see your face, but you can feel yourself wanting to grind back against his leg, enjoying the sensation. 

As you begin to move back into him, he shifts his leg, and you lose the high you had both been working together to build. You turn your head to face him, glaring at him for making such an intentional move. He smirks back in return. 

“I told you this was the best seat on the ship, and I’ll be damned if I don’t live up to that.” 

Luffy

Word count: 1k

“Ha! You lose!”

Of course you lost. You were going up against Luffy in a drinking contest. You returned to your place in the circle of crew members, sitting criss-crossed on the deck. “What do I have to do now?”

Nami pulls a card from the deck, and reads it aloud for everyone to hear. “The loser has to sit on the winner's lap until the next round.”

Your eyes widen as a smile spreads across Luffy’s face. His arms shoot out to grab you before you can even protest, and he pulls you to him. “I love being a winner!” He sets you into his lap, and wraps his arms around you several times so you can’t escape. 

Luffy is never one to shy away from public affection. When he has a crush, it’s painfully obvious to everyone around him. The crew had been waiting for him to make a move on you, and finally the opportunity presented itself. 

He acts like you all have been in this scenario hundreds of times, there’s no awkwardness whatsoever. As the game goes on, he cheers and laughs, always moving you with him. He’s 100% comfortable with you in his lap.

He keeps his hands wrapped around you and his chest is always flush with your back. You two are one person now. And neither of you have use of your arms. 

You squirm a bit, trying to get a hand free to grab a drink. You definitely needed one, with the position you were in. Luffy’s head appears next to yours, his big eyes looking at you with confusion. “Hm? Are you not comfortable?”

“No, no,” you reassure him lightly. Your brain feels a little dizzy from being so close to him. “I just want a drink.”

“Oh!” His arms unravel from you and reach across the circle to grab the drink from your old spot for you. “There you go!” He repositions himself so his arms still get to be wrapped around you, but you have the ability to move your arms again. 

He rests his head on your shoulder and watches the others play their various challenges. He yells out words of encouragement and throws out challenge ideas himself. You remind yourself to have Chopper check your ear for signs of hearing loss.

Your turn comes around to partake in another challenge, this time with Zoro. Luffy pouts a bit when he has to relinquish you. It’s a guessing game challenge, and you beat Zoro by a significant amount. When you finish the challenge, you return to your seat in Luffy’s lap. 

“Thanks for coming back, even though you didn’t have to!” Luffy snuggles into you and wraps his arms around your torso again. Your face turns as red as his shirt, and everyone laughs before moving on to the next challenge. 

NSFW 

After a few more rounds, half of the crew turned in for bed. The only ones who remained were you, Nami, Sanji, Zoro, Luffy, and Usopp. You were all extremely drunk, so the challenges had died down, turning into more of a game where you had to answer questions about each other or do something to avoid answering it. You still sat in Luffy’s lap, his head resting lazily on your shoulder.

“Hey, I have one for you, Y/N.” Nami glanced around the circle before continuing. “Who here do you think would be the best in bed?”

You choke on your drink, and you’re not the only one. You see everyone stiffen, and they all eye you inquisitively. You had prided yourself in the fact that you hadn’t turned down a question yet, and you could sense that Nami wanted you to eat your words. 

You think about it for a few moments before answering. “Probably Zoro.”

There’s a moment of silence that follows your answer, leaving it hanging in the air. You can’t see Luffy’s face, but you can feel him clench his fists into your side. Your eyes haven’t left Nami’s since you answered, and see a sign of shock appear over her face. She can’t think of anything to say other than, “Wait…really?” 

“Well, it’s all in the way you worded it, Nami.” You should shut your mouth and have some shame, but you can’t help it. “If you had asked who’d be the best lover,” you pause to look at the cook. “I’d probably say Sanji.”

Your eyes slide over to Usopp next, ignoring Sanji's reaction. “If you asked who’d be the most adventurous…” you laugh, catching his gaze. “The answer would definitely be Usopp.” Usopp’s eyes widened and looked away. 

“But you didn’t ask those things. You asked who’d be the best. Which has to be between Zoro and Luffy.” The group is still silent, and your eyes slide lazily to Zoro, who is returning your gaze with a glare. It’s getting hard to ignore the pain of Luffy’s hands digging into your side, his silent plea for you to stop talking, but you still continue on. 

“It’d be close, but objectively, I think it would be Zoro. But…” you pause for a second, your eyes returning to Nami. “If you asked me who I want to fuck the most, the answer would obviously be Luffy.”

At the mention of his name in that context, Luffy’s grip finally loosens on you. Everyone is staring at you in disbelief of such a bold statement, still unable to speak. You wait a beat before laughing at them all. “Well, I think that’s a good note for me to end on.” You peel Luffy’s arms off of you and stand up. “I’m off to bed.”

Luffy, with no ounce of shame in his bones, stands up before you even make it through the door. “Yeah, uh, me too!” He bounds off after you. “Goodnight!”

As soon as he’s through the door, he reaches out to grab you and pull you back to him. You don’t even have time to react before his lips are on yours, his hands tangled in your hair. 

“Luffy-” you pull away from his kiss gasping for air, but are instantly pulled into another one before you can finish your sentence. 

“I’m gonna prove you wrong,” he whispers against your lips. “I’m gonna prove that I’m the best at all those things.”

Law

Word count: 950

“Okay, flip them!”

You turn your card on the table that you’re kneeling in front of. Two of spades. You look around, praying not to find a match. 

“Two of spades! The captain has a two of spades!” Bepo is looking back and forth between the two of you. Your eyes cut across to Law, looking equally as unenthused as he is. 

“Who has the highest card?”

Ikkaku calls out “I have a queen,” and you feel relief. Until you hear a snicker from across the room that implies she’s been beat.

“I have a king.” You groan as Shachi flashes the card. There’s no way this man is going to go easy on you two. “Y/N has to sit on the captain’s lap for the rest of the game…or thirty minutes. Whichever is last.”

Law scowls at his crew member. “No way. Captain veto.”

“You can’t veto on game night!” Shachi reminds him, and Law curses under his breath. Your face is warm, and the table in front of you has become very interesting in the past 30 seconds. 

“Get over here, y/n-ya.” You flinch at his directness, but get up and walk to his side of the table. “Sorry about all this,” he mutters to you, as he moves into a criss-cross seated position to accommodate for your new punishment. 

“I don’t blame you,” you say, taking a seat in his lap. “I blame Shachi.” You stick your tongue out at your crew mate, but he only winks at you in return. 

Law is the kind of person who completely ignores the fact that this is happening. He doesn’t necessarily avoid touching you, but he doesn’t go out of his way to do it either. You all continue to play the game as you normally would, just in the space of each other rather than separately.

You can feel his body tighten whenever you move or shift against him. You can’t see his face, but every time you move to readjust yourself, there’s someone calling out, “What’s wrong, Captainnnn? Why’s your face so red??”

You lose again, and while the winner is trying to make up a punishment, Law excuses him to use the bathroom. Shachi refuses to let him go, and you can feel Law twitch in irritation behind you. “I just have to piss, I’ll come right back!” Shachi’s eyes slide to you, still seated on the ground, and that mischievous grin of his reappears. “Fine, Captain. I’ll make an exception for you this once.”

As soon as Law leaves, Shachi is next to Clione in an instant, whispering in his ear. A similar grin begins to mirror on Clione’s face as Shachi whispers his elaborate plan. “Y/N, you have to flirt with the captain.” Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open at their cruelty. You hadn’t told anyone about your blooming feelings for the Captain yet. There’s no way they could know, and yet they somehow did. Shachi sees your horror, and delightfully adds “Really lay it on thick, too! I want obvious flirting! Just once.”

“I’m so sorry about this, Y/N-ya.” Law apologizes again as he sits down, and you’re not sure why he’s the one who's sorry. (Really, Law is apologizing because Shachi knows that he has a crush on you and Shachi loves to meddle. Law vows to never tell another soul anything personal again after today.)

You lock eyes for a second with Shachi, who is waving you on discreetly. “Oh, it’s really not so bad, Captain.” You laugh and turn yourself sideways so you can see his face better. You place your arms around his neck and look into his eyes, which are wide with confusion and shock. “It’s almost more comfortable than…” 

The phrase getting lost in his eyes suddenly makes sense to you. You’ve never noticed how intricate his eyes were, like layers of golden flecks rather than one solid color. Even down here in the submarine with harsh luminescent lighting, they shine in a way you didn’t think was humanly possible. “Um…”

The entire crew starts laughing, and your face turns a deep red. You quickly unclasp your hands from his neck and turn around, facing the table again. All of the confidence you just had was completely washed away with one look from your captain. 

“Hey, Y/N-ya, are you okay?” His voice is soft and warm, and you can feel a hand rest on your shoulder, trying to get you to turn back to him again. “I’m fine! Sorry about that, captain.” Instead of turning back to him, you look for Shachi, who smirks and holds up a thumbs up. It could’ve gone better, but you’ll take it.

Law is absolutely perplexed by the scene you just made, but he didn’t hate it. He just wished the two of you were alone when you had done it so it would have lasted longer. He shoots a glare across the rest of his subordinates, who are still laughing at your alls interaction. “Quiet down. It’s not that big of a deal.”

You all sit awkwardly for the rest of your sentence. You sit straight up in his lap, and he stays more leaned back away. Law definitely thinks that he’s the one who made you uncomfortable and wants to give you as much space as possible for the rest of the time. 

I'm so sorry Law stans there is no NSFW for him because there is no way this man is making a move on you after one little moment or letting Shachi take all the credit for you guys getting together. This would be a PAINFULLY slow burn. (but if someone requests a followup to this or any of these pieces I wouldn’t be opposed 👀 )

Law’s NSFW portion is up here!!!

[riki-riks-chick]

enha legal line wet dream drabble?

Enhypen Wet Dreams

enhypen when they have a wet dream

═════════════

Heeseung:

Heeseung doesn't have wet dreams often, but every now and then, the two of you get really busy, too tired after work to even invest in sexual behavior. And it's so painful for him. Even if he is hard, he's too tired to deal with it, let alone ask you to.

It easily turns into him having a wet dream. His head is filled with visions of all the things he wants to do to you, and how you'd react. He wakes up, hard and slick with his own cum. You'd be sound asleep beside him, but he can't help but to wake you. You're tired and against it at first, but his pleading is a bit of a turn on.

You end up giving him sloppy head under the covers, opting to continue any other wants or needs in the morning when you're not tired as fuck. "We'll finish this later."

Jay:

Jay finds wet dreams embarrassing, so whenever he gets himself worked up enough to the point he has one, it's terrible for him.

Waking up with a raging hard on, it's still dark outside, and Jay hates that he's probably gonna have to spend the next thirty minutes trying and failing to cum again from just his hand alone.

He eventually wakes you with his quiet groans and grunts. You're confused at first, but when you see his fist closed around his dick, you get an idea.

You decide to let him fuck you, knowing that it would be less work on your part to simply let him get off, using you as a personal sex toy.

And it definitely isn't bad because you feel amazing and so does he. In the end, he doesn't think wet dreams are too bad. "Maybe I should wake you again next time."

Jake:

He happens to have a wet dream the one time you're not sleeping beside him. He was dreaming about something along the lines of fucking you in all his favorite positions, you in his favorite set that he bought you. Everything was so tempting.

But of course he wakes up in his empty bed, and he contemplates for twenty minutes before calling you.

His cock is already clutched in his right hand, he's holding the phone with his left. When you amswer, your voice sleepy and cute, he's already losing it.

It doesn't take you long to realize he's jerking off, so you give him some substance, whispering dirty words into the phone to help him get off. He eventually releases in his hand, moaning pathetically into the receiver. "Fuck.. I need you so bad."

Sunghoon:

The epitome of horny. Sunghoon hasn't been able to touch you all week because he's been busy as hell. This leads to the wet dream he's just woken up from. He was dreaming of you, fucking you from behind, which is his favorite way to do so.

He spends the next five minutes stroking his own cock, biting his lip to silence himself, but it's not working in his favor. He then looks over at you. You're sleeping so peacefully, and all he can think of is ruining you.

To his luck you've given him prior permission to try out the whole somnophilia thing. You both liked it last time, so he wanted to try again. You were luckily on your stomach too, so he simply removed the clothes on your lower half, sliding into you slowly.

He ended up waking you so he could fuck you properly and neither of you got any sleep. "Next time I'll try eating your pussy while you sleep.."

Sunoo:

Sunoo probably has frequent wet dreams. Waking up at random hours, soaked in his own cum just because he dreamed about you.

Like usual, he wakes you up, moaning in his sleep thanks to the content of the dream. You're not even surprised at this point. Usually you just watch him squirm and pretend to be asleep when he wakes up, but this time you wanted him to see you.

You had taken matters into your own hands, freeing his dripping erection before lowering yourself onto his length. He wakes up, the feeling of you riding him being too good.

He comes pretty quickly, but you both agree to go for another round before taking a late night bubble bath. "You should do that more often.."

Jungwon:

He immediately wakes you the second he has a wet dream. Whatever it may be, he's asking you to make it a reality.

So when you're awaken at nearly 2am, being asked in the most pitiful way possible, to suck your boyfriend's dick. You can't say no.

Jungwon is a moaning mess, enjoying the feelings he gets just from your mouth being wrapped around his cock so prettily.

He's cuming down your throat minutes later, whining pathetically as you suck on his tip.

The whole ordeal makes you horny too, so he gets to fuck you in the end. "Oh this is so much better than a dream..."

Riki:

Wet dreams are so embarrassing for Riki. He gets so shy it's almost unbearable. One time you woke up while be was trying to deal with his problem, and he swears it was the worst thing that ever happened to him.

The second he wakes up, feeling the all too familiar stickiness in his pants, he's making a beeline for the bathroom, not wanting to wake you up.

Thank his lucky stars, because tonight just happens to be the night you wake up, walking into the bathroom where the lights are on and Riki is leaning against the counter in distress.

Being caught only made his problem worse. He was near tears until you stepped towards him. "Let me make it better.."

═════════════

[carmenized-onions]

I Want To. | Wellness Check

logline; Such is life, you go from not being needed at The Bear today to being more needed than you ever have been.

[!!!] series history, this is the fourth; First, Second, Third

portion; 4.7k+

possible allergies; a dash of Tony's former paramedic background (and just medical shit in general) in this one, so, a sprinkle of post-trauma stress (and her usual yikes psyche). Mikey comes up a bit, as usual! despite the ops, we ball.

pairing; Carmen ‘Carmy’ Berzatto & Fem Reader (pretty unavoidably gendered episode, mb non-fem folks)

we'll talk after babe, have a good time w/ this one.

Falling asleep was easy— par for Carmen fighting to keep his 6:30 am alarm on. When he finds out you don’t have a plug on his side of the bed and he has to charge his phone on your side, he turns it off. Cute.

Well, there’s also the part where you had to ask if he was okay because it sounded like he wasn’t breathing and it turns out —He was not breathing— He then pointed out that it sounded like you weren’t breathing —You were not breathing— Both of you thought the sound of your lungs would bother the other, so you opted not to use them at all. Turns out, counterproductive; you notice each other’s absences pretty well.

But besides that, it's easy. Carmen isn’t an awful bedfellow. He’s not super shifty, he doesn’t tug the blanket, he doesn’t roll all the fucking way over to your side, or anything like that. He’s honestly concerningly still. Is he annoyed that you’ve gotta toss and turn a little to get comfortable? Probably. He's probably dreaming of you exploding right now, he’s so annoyed. He didn’t make fun of your ages old build-a-bear plush nor it’s Cubs jersey, so that was nice. Pity, probably.

...If Carmen wasn’t here, he knows he’d be stirring and kicking and probably sleep-walking to his oven to light it on fire. But he is here. Where kicking would hurt. Where stirring would wake you. Where a fire would cause more anxiety than relief because all your plants and projects would die. Where you washed his hair and told him that taking care of people doesn’t feel like a lot of work to you. Was it not a lot of work, to take care of his brother? Was it worth it, to you? Probably not. How could it be?

He wills his body to not fucking move because if he does it's going to ruin everything. He's going to ruin everything.

He wakes up at 6:30 on the dot, alarm or no. He’d be concerned if his body functioned any differently. But he can’t get to his phone while you’re sleeping in his way and you’re so comfortable. You’re clutching a bear that’s undeniably on a losing team and you’re at peace with it. He’s trying not to make a metaphor out of this in his mind; alas, it’s already there. The only thing he can do is go back to sleep and dream about killing the teenage boy in his head before he can escape again and call you pretty.

It's around ten when you wake up, you try not to wake him when you turn to grab your phone, but the split second of motion makes him flinch like he’s about to get jumped. “Relax!” You hiss, but like, soft, whispered. “I’m doin’ the fuckin’ Wordle, not smothering you with a pillow.”

“You do the Wordle?”

“Oh, fuck you—”

“The first fuckin’ thing you do in the morning is the Wordle?”

“And I do the Crossword too, bitch, what of it?”

“…I like Connections.”

“I fuckin' hate Connections.”

“Alright, damn!”

The Chicago accent in both of you is stronger in your rasping morning voices. As is the laughter. You roll onto your stomach to get closer to him and let him see your screen. Neither of you have entirely woken up yet and that means it’s the perfect time to do a puzzle. If you don't focus on this puzzle right now, you fear you will get too comfortable in this idea of domesticity.

“C’s in the right place. Nothin’ else though.”

He’s the one that figures out its Cumin. You pretend not to be mad about this. You’re furious. Of course, it’d be a spice on the day Mr Food Guy sleeps over. Bullshit.

When you finally sit up, stretch, and say, “I’m just gonna shower real quick ‘nd—”

He’s at a breakneck speed to reply, “I’ll make breakfast.”

“Oh, you cook all the fuckin’ time, you don’t have to—”

“I want to.”

You blink, then shrug, the man likes to cook, c’est la vie. “Who am I to refuse?”

He looks far too happy about this, as though he’s won a lottery. A lottery of manual labour. He rolls out of bed, grabbing his back pack stuffed with yesterday’s clothes before leaving you to your own devices. In a literal sense, too, since you get a text. Ugh.

‘Gigi called in, can you reach?’

You would prefer not to reach, but this is capitalism.

‘When's the shift?’

‘6:30 to 12:30’

Why couldn’t something else at The Bear be fuckin’ broken today?

‘yeah i can reach’

‘that’s my girl, red tops today, see u’

You have also won the lottery of manual labour today. Look at you and Carm, luckiest people alive. Something like that. Alright, go shower and be normal about the fact that there’s a Michelin Star Chef making you breakfast in your kitchen. And he’s prett—

“You make your own bread.”

“I do.” You sit at your own little breakfast nook, waiting to be served. Towel hung around your neck post shower. You’d offer to help, but based on his urgency to cook for you, it’s gonna be a no. Plus, the gift on the table you’ve got for him is going to piss him off enough, can't poke this bear too much. He's already given you a mile. Too many idioms.

“I like to think in another universe I am a homesteader who makes her own soaps and renders tallow n’ shit. But I settle for growing basil and making sourdough in my shitty little Chicago apartment for now.”

“I like your apartment.” He hums, though amused. He turns and sets your plate—the one black plate— in front of you with a small smile. This smile immediately falls when he pushes the plate towards you and you push a travel bag of toiletries towards him.

“Fuck is this?”

“I don’t want to hear any complaints, Irish Spring.”

“How d’you know I use Irish Spring?”

“It’s all five of your routine, it’s going to be pungent— Now listen.” You pick up the bag; you’d dug through your sink cabinet and found a dollar store pack of plastic travel bottles, unused from cancelled trips of yesteryear. You've decanted your own products for him. It's fine, you buy jumbo sizes anyways...

“Shampoo, conditioner, face wash—They’ve even got labels.”

He takes the bag from you, setting it down on his side of the counter, begrudgingly. Though he hasn’t particularly paid it much mind, tunnelled on something else entirely, “Do you not like Irish Spring?”

"I didn't give you a body wash, you can still use it for that one purpose."

"Yeah, but do you not like Irish Spring?"

"...I think it's fine."

“Fine?”

“I’m more of an Old Spice fan.”

“You don’t deserve breakfast—” He pulls your plate, you pull it back.

“All I said—” “Thinkin’ I smell like shit—” “Did not say that—!” “Just cause you use the fruity stuff—” “I smell good! Deny that I smell good!” “You smell fine.” “Wowww—Whatever, do the thing.”

“Bruschetta with a breakfast twist.” Ah, that makes him give you the plate back. His kink is explaining food. “Sourdough toasted, topped with fresh basil—”

“Courtesy of me.”

“Courtesy of you, yes. Tomatoes, bacon glazed in balsamic, and you didn’t have parm so I used feta. And then, y’know, over medium egg on top.”

“You’re very good, Carmen.”

“Oh, I—Uh—” You haven’t even tried it yet. You’re telling him he’s good for the sake of the effort he’s given alone. He needs an antacid. “Thank you.”

It’s redundant to say his food is good. But what else can you say? It’s a fucking perfect open face sandwich. But he’s eating it with you, and half of it’s your own handiwork, and all of your pantry, so you leave your praises purely reaction based, unsaid.

You're honestly a little distracted, reading too hard into the act of him giving you the black plate and taking one of your shitty plastic ones for himself. Time to talk.

“Itinerary for today?”

“Gotta talk chaos menu with Syd before opening, then, well, running the restaurant all night… And then I’ll—I’ll go home.”

“Yeah? You can come back here, if you want to.” Thank God you took a bite in time to hide your selfish disappointment. It’s good for him to go home, but then he’s not here. Real Catch-22.

He shakes his head, “I think I’m good now. Thanks, though. What’s—What’s uh, your plans for today?”

“I’m gonna drop you off wherever you’re going, n’ then I’m gonna go shopping for Syd’s gift—”

“It’s her fuckin’ birthday or somethin?” It’s a delight how immediately panicked he is by this. You're also thankful because he's so distracted it means you won't have to tell him the rest of your plans for today. You'd like to keep that life separate. For as long as possible, at least.

“Nono, it’s just, I didn’t get her anything for her opening night and I wanna change that. I’ll get you something too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I want to.” The very idea of waiting for his response is freaking you the fuck out, so you’re quick to clear your voice and add. “I’ll give you my number, in case you end up needing to crash.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Ey, text me your invoice too.”

You take both your cleared plates to the sink, and the lie is swift. You've gotten a lot better at that, in the past year.

“Oh no worries, your sister already covered it.”

It is 6:30 and your life is over. Kidding. Unless? You dropped off Carmen at the train station hours ago and, to use his words, ‘it’s hit’. He’s at The Bear and there’s nothing for you to fix there— So you’re not.

You’ve only been there like three times and yet it started to feel… Like your thing!

Like, like you’d just come in everyday and… Dunno, fix something... But it’s not like they’re gonna have a crisis everyday. Especially not ones that Fak can't handle himself if needed— There's no way he's gonna last at hosting, anyways. You’re now realizing the unrealistic dream— Possibly more unrealistic than homestead you.

Speaking of, Homestead You would probably throw up, if she saw the you you’re looking at in the mirror right now. You look good. Objectively, you know you look good. The mug is stamped. Your pants are black, high-waisted, and give you an ass. The bright red leather corset top is… Chafing, but it looks good! It's a sweetheart neckline so you have to take off your long rope chain necklace from Mikey and shove it in your pocket— Which is fine and doesn't feel bad at all. And listen, listen, being an on-call bottle girl is good money!

And you might get put on bar tonight! You don’t know for sure if you’re gonna have to juggle around lit up bottles for a bunch of fucking geezers!

...

God, fuck, it’s 10:20 and your life is over.

This group of geezers have been fucking annoying and fucking Cherry wouldn’t get off fucking bar even though you literally covered for her last week and these stupid grandpas asked if gratuity is included— No fucking shit! Did you take their card and put a 40% tip? Yeah, maybe. Fuck them! They’re too fucking rich to notice! And they took three hours to leave! Gonna bash this champagne bottle over his bald fucking—

“Ey! That’s a face I remember.”

You hear your name— Not Tony, not Chip, not Cousin. Your name.

You turn to see, oh fucking hell, let God kill you—

“Uncle J!~ Good to see you!~ What a surprise! It’s Jack, here.” Jack of all Trades. It was cute at the time of sign up. Your smile is bright, fake, strained, and beautiful.

“Been too long, really.” Cicero isn’t a bad guy—Correction: Cicero isn’t a bad guy, to you, but as Mikey once put it, he’s a fuckin’ ball buster and in your case, you’re one of the few people beneath him that he asks favours from. Always wants free labour and your expertise. And he always has a habit of asking for favours the second you need one back. But you don’t need one right now! So it’s fine! Everything’s fine!

“Do your Uncle a favour,”—Fully not your Uncle—“Could you pair me and my friends here with a good red?”

You let it go that they’re having fish and asking for a red. Stupid thing to get hung up over right now. You make a commission of it anyways; you just pick the most expensive bottle. He won’t know the difference. The Bear would know the difference. Carmen would notice the difference... Alright, relax.

While pouring glasses, Jimmy whispers to his compatriots and one by one they all peel off. It is almost alarming how quickly this group of men turn and leave without a second thought, taking their glasses with them.

You raise your brows and look at Cicero. “Ah. This is the moment where I sit?”

He nods, gesturing to the booth. “This is the moment where you sit.”

You slip into the booth, sitting across from him. “What do you need?”

“Right to the point with you.”

“I hate suspense.” You shrug.

“You liked Mikey.”

What the fuck?

You bite your inner cheek, hard. “Don’t say that shit.”

“I liked him too,” He says it solemnly, like your mutual grief is a proper apology. He takes a long sip of his stupid red wine. “Did you hear? Cousin Vinnie and Mira are gettin’ hitched, finally.”

“I have no fucking idea who Vinnie and Mira are.” You take the glass when he hands it to you, taking a sip. Small. You gotta drive home, after all.

“Really? It’s a big wedding—Destination too, in New York—”

“I hate to remind you, but I was friends with Mikey, not his family.” Not his biological one, at least. The Beef, sure. But you literally only met his siblings two days ago. “What’s a wedding gotta do with me?”

He bristles, and finally cuts it short. “Around three hundred guests, seven-hour shift, open bar—” “Oh, for fuckssake—” “Listen—”

“It’s an easy gig, I’ll fly you out for it, it’s a month and a half away, you’ll get to attend a big fuckin’ Italian wedding— Which will be a shitshow, certainly, so free entertainment; and Michelin Star level catering, kind of.”

You squint. Kind of? “You got Carmy in on this shit?”

“You know ‘em?”

You nod, pressing your elbows on the table, “We’ve recently become acquainted. What d’you got on him for him to cater a wedding?”

“He’s eight-hundred grand in the hole.” “Fuck!” “He gets thirty off for catering. Smart boy, said yes.”

Christ, you massage the bridge of your brow with one hand and pull out your phone with another to check your calendar, you might as well see if you can even entertain the idea. You don’t need a favour right now, maybe you can bargain and get him to actually pay you for it, this time.

“I dunno, Uncle J…”

Oh.

28 unread texts from Syd.

3 unread texts from an unknown number— Probably Carmen.

9 missed calls from Syd.

Uncle Jimmy, always, always, has a fucking way, of asking for a favour when you need one…

You slam your phone, screen down on the table, straightening your posture in your seat. “I have demands.”

He motions for you to continue, taking his wine glass back. “You always do.”

“You and your friends are gonna tip a hundred percent tonight.”

“That why you give me a 2016 Fisher?”

“I like to think ahead.”

“Smart girl.” He shrugs, palms of his hands out. Which means yes.

“If Uncle Lee comes up to the bar I’m throwing a fork at him and leaping over the counter.”

He chuckles, “Thought you 'didn’t know family'.”

“I remember what I'm told.”

His amusement fades quickly, remembering first hand. He nods. “…You’re allowed to jump him if I’m watching first.”

“And you’re friends with my boss, right?”

“We’re acquainted.”

“I’m gonna punch out now and you’re gonna smooth that out for me.”

He perks up, amused, glancing at your phone, “Somethin’ come up, Chip?”

“Don’t call me Chip.” He wants to poke at you, just a little bit more, but there’s a rattled look in your eyes that he’s so rarely seen that he lets it go.

He waves his hand, shrugging, “Be safe. I'll send you the details. December wedding, remember.”

At the end of the day, Cicero isn’t a bad guy to you, someone who loved his nephew as much as he did.

You’re running to your car while you dial back Syd. You don’t have time to read the texts, all you need to know is that it’s an emergency. She picks up just after the first ring.

“Syd what the—” “Code blue!”

You almost fall on your face and eat asphalt. For a flash, you’re in the back of an ambulance being handed a defibrillator at the age of 22, surrounded by faces just as scared and young as you. Then you’re back in the parking lot, slotting the key into your car door because the fob doesn’t work. It’s never worked.

“S-Someone’s having a fucking heart attack!?”

“What?!”

“That’s what fucking code blue means!”

“Oh my god! Sorry! No, I was just saying the thing that scares doctors the most!”

“Yeah, I’m fuckin’ scared Syd!” You slide into the driver’s seat and slam your car door shut. You take a deep breath, white knuckling the steering wheel. “…I’m-I'm sorry for yelling! Where are you, what’s going on?”

“The—The Bear, the restaurant.” The second you have a location you’re revving off.

“Nat locked herself in the office—” “Like trapped?” This shit again?

“No, no— Like she locked herself in— She did this like two hours ago and I thought she was just taking a breather— But we’ve closed and, and like almost everyone left and she’s still not coming out— And she blocked the door inside— and— And I think she’s trying to hide that she’s basically shrieking in pain every five minutes.”

You take a long time to register anything she’s just said. Her tone is as panicked as you feel on the inside. You’re only now registering the ambient yelling of Richie and Carmen in the background.

“…Did—Can you hear me?”

“Yeah, yeah Syd, I’m just thinking.” You don’t step on the gas on purpose, it just happens. “A pregnant woman is screaming in pain— in intervals— behind a blockaded door?”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Have you called an ambulance?”

There’s a much more distinct yell in the background from Richie, “No cops!”

Then from Carmen, “No coverage!”

“Yeah…” Syd shakily continues for them, “The insurance is a problem, and Richie said— Motherfucker—” You hear a muffled scrap over the phone before Richie continues on for Syd.

“Er, yeah, Cousin, Sugar keeps yelling that she’s fine ‘n blocked the door, if we call the cops they’re gonna ram that shit down and take her to the loony bin.”

“That’s not— That’s not what paramedics do.”

“That’s what they all do.”

“Richie, y’know, I was a paramedic, right?”

“…You a fuckin’ fed, Chip?”

“Richie, if I was a fuckin' narc you would be in prison by now. I, I— I'll be there in like, like eight minutes, everyone stop fucking yelling at Sugar!”

You’re there in four. You almost rear end someone and you run every yellow you get but you’re there in four. You don’t park properly in the back, you just drive your car in and turn it off in the middle of the lot. You don’t bother to be let in, you just punch the code in as you remember it. As Natalie told you.

“Oh good you—Oh my, God?” Syd is no better than a man in this moment, going from grateful for your presence to being one intrusive thought away from whistling.

You did not have time to change out of your ...outfit and someone has been hogging your Carhartt. You pass Syd quickly, waving a hand in front of her face. Goddammit, why do your boot heels have to have that incredibly satisfying femme fatale click right now?

“Alright— Relax—”

“Holy shit, Chippy!” Richie was yelling at Sugar through the door along with Carm, but once alerted to your presence is now snapping his fingers. You'd describe him more as impressed than actually attracted to you. “You clean up!”

 “Cousin, are you—” He grabs Carmen’s face, turning it to you— Carmen does of course, immediately slap Richie’s hand away which of course, means they just start smacking each other's hands. Like preteen girls. “Ey, get the fuck off—” “I just want you to look at a pretty girl, Cousin—!” “Stop fuckin’ touchin’ me!” “Are you looking!?” “I—”

“Everyone shut the fuck up!”

You silence the room. You’re thankful most of the staff has left by now since it’s well after close. It's just Carmen, Syd, Richie, Tina, and Fak for some goddamn reason...You can't be mean you're handymen, you have to stick together.

“I look different from the usual jumpsuit, yes, we get it, can we move on? Pregnant woman?”

Syd is the first to speak, “…Were you on a date, though?”

You blink and roll your eyes all at once, twisting your head to her, “Syd—”

“It’s good to see you getting out there, baby.” Tina, deeply unhelpful in this moment, puts a hand around your shoulder. Oh to have a mother’s judgment when she’s not even your mother.

“O-kay!” You drag on the ‘kay’, clapping your hands together, “Everyone, just get your thoughts out in the next five seconds and then we’re moving on.”

“Chippy, I cannot believe you’ve held this out on me—” “—I meant it like-like a concerned, did we interrupt your date—” “—The red is unbelievable on you, Cousin!” “I need you to teach me how you do your makeup—” “Can you— can you yell again—?” “Fak!” “Oh, so that’s too much?”

A cacophony, it continues on. Your eyes glaze over, and you’re waiting for Sugar to let out a scream so everyone remembers the fucking point of being here. But then you look at Carmen. Everyone’s pivoted from staring at you to yelling at each other. But Carmen; Carmen is still looking at you. Stupid soft scary eye contact. And his voice is so much quieter than the yelling but it’s the thing that you hear anyways.

“It looks tight.”

There’s a possibility that when you killed the teenage girl inside you that you also killed the feminist. Because there’s a small sub-sect of you that’s upset that he’s not objectifying you right now. That his vision is focused on you. Not the changes. He doesn’t seem to look at you any differently than when you’re wearing a jumpsuit and utility belt, covered in toilet water. This should not be annoying and yet it is.

“It is.”

He nods, eye contact unshifting, unblinking, “You wanna change?”

“Maybe after we find out whether or not your sister is in labour.”

He nods. He takes a second but he nods.

You approach him, rather, the door, knocking gently. Everyone quiets down.

You clear your throat, and once more, the persona is put on, you’re a paramedic, putting on that soft but firm reassuring authoritative tone. “E-M Rescue, I got a call for a wellness check on Natalie Berzatto?”

“Tony—” A groan of pain behind the door, “I am perfectly well! Everyone go home!”

You grimace, you motion with your hand for Fak to hand you a screwdriver— He keeps one in his breast-pocket, even when wearing a suit. Hey, you should start doing that.

“Nat, I’m a paramedic— Or I was—will you please let me in?”

“I don’t— Fuck! —Need a paramedic!”

“Never hurts to do a check-up, Nat.” You speak calmly, like you always did. “Listen, lover, if you don’t open the door, I’m gonna have to take it off its hinges, and we're gonna lose medic patient confidentiality.”

When she doesn’t reply after a good beat, you start to unscrew the top hinge; she can hear it, “Wait, wait, wait— Fuck-Fuck— I’m opening it!”

There’s another series of pained groans as she exerts herself to open the door, and once she does, it’s only by a crack, to look at you and you alone. She’s absolutely been crying. She speaks in a whispered tone. “Just you.”

You nod, handing the screwdriver back to Fak without breaking eye contact with her. “Just me.”

She cracks it open just enough for you to come in. And so, you do. Everyone is, for the first time, too worried about her shutting down to interrupt or yell a complaint.

You close the door behind you, pressing your back to it. You note the toppled over chair by your feet that she must’ve blocked it with. Plus the puddle of amniotic fluid beneath her. Oh fuck.

...

“You wanna talk or do you just want me to check your contractions?”

“I’m—” She shakes her head, covering her face. She half sits on the desk. “I’m fucking— I am not ready for this.”

“Yeah.” You nod. You’re not here to convince anyone they’re ready to be a fucking mother. But you’re here to listen, certainly.

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“Who?”

“Her—!” Her voice is choked, another contraction. You’re silently taking the time in your head. She points to her stomach.

“And— And we just opened, and— And I’m gonna have to go on maternity leave, which is the last fucking thing we need and— and— If I could just fucking keep her in!”

“Natalie.” You put a hand on her shoulder, she finally looks at you. “This is happening.”

“Not help—fu—ll.”

“I know it’s not. This is scary and there are no take backs—” “Very unhelp—”

“Nat, your daughter wants to meet you.”

You squeeze her shoulder; she looks like she’s gonna cry all over again for a completely different reason. “She probably won’t hate you. Who’s to say. But I know you’ll love her. And that’s enough, isn’t it?”

She nods, emphatically, but something is still bothering her. You squeeze her shoulder again. You whisper, so even if everyone’s ear is pressed to the door— Which you doubt, she’s screaming after all, they won’t hear.

“Carmen will still know you love him, even when you're not here.”

She immediately goes for a hug, you reciprocate with a shuddered ease. She sniffs, head on your shoulder. She stays there for a while before letting you go, nodding. “Okay.”

You hand her the tissue box next to her on the table, she takes it thankfully, crushing it in her hand. Another contraction. Oh, that couldn't have been more than 2 minutes. Oh fuck.

You kneel down in front of her, and you’re simply no longer in your body as a person but just the paramedic. You could not be more thankful that she’s wearing a dress today. Awkward requests of spreading legs and pulling off underwear aside, Natalie’s daughter does in fact really want to meet her. Oh fuck.

You look up at Natalie, between her knees, you speak cool, professional. “You’re crowning. This is gonna have to happen here. I'll have someone call your husband.”

You’re so calm that it doesn’t give Natalie the feeling or need to freak out, she just breathes. “Okay. Okay.”

You stand upright. “Do you prefer this office or somewhere else?”

“I can’t— Move.”

“Makes sense. Makes total sense. Okay. I’ll go get everything we need, I’ll be right back. I might send some people in, okay, love?”

She just grunts in reply, nodding, now that she’s not in as much emotional pain, she can entirely focus on her brutalizing physical pain.

“Oh, hey, I know—” You grab her purse, pulling out her phone and ear buds, handing them to her with haste, your calm demeanour is faltering just a bit. “Listen to some music, loud, y’know, chill…” You put the pods in her ear for her. She’s again, in too much pain to tell you to fuck off, and just plays her music loud.

You softly open the door, smiling just a bit too much as you leave, and very softly close the door behind you. Looking at the motley crew before you, your persona immediately falls apart. You really only wanted her to play music so you could scream. “Oh, my fucking God.”

“What’s happening, she good?” What a sweet, stupid brother, Sugar has.

You purse your lips together, eyes wide, shaking your head. “She’s going to give birth in like— Maybe six minutes. Max ten.” Everyone goes to speak in an uproar of panic, and then you slap yourself in the face. Hard. That stuns them silent.

“Alright!” You press your hands over your eyes, “Tina!”

She’s been around this block before, “What do you need?”

“Can you go sit in there with her? Tell her all the breathing exercises and shit? Keep her calm? Coming from you it won’t seem so—”

“Condescending as fuck?”

“Yes, exactly, can you?”

“Gotchu, baby.” She claps your shoulder when she walks past and into the office.

You clap hers in tandem, “Thank you, Mama—Okay, Richie!”

“Yeah?”

“I’m gonna need you to call Nat’s husband—”

“Why do I—”

“Because you’re a fuckin’ dad, Rich, and he will need you!” You’re yelling all pissed, snapping your fingers at him, but he does light up when you say it like that. “I don’t care if he wets his fuckin’ bed, tell him to get here!”

He salutes, walking off, “Aye aye, Cap’n Chip.”

You shake off the sting in your hand, God, you really did slap yourself too hard. You turn to the next targets. “Syd, Fak.”

Syd responds hesitantly for the both of them, since Fak is silently enjoying your colonel persona a little too much. “…Yes, C-Captain?”

“I need towels, a lot of clean towels— cloth ones, like sanitized clean— Warm half in water— And then I need a clean sheet— A table cloth or something, I don’t fucking care, something clean and big that you’re fine destroying. I need sterile sheaths, Syd you get those— Other than that, however they get to me, I don’t give a shit— Just scrub in before you touch anything!”

They almost knock into each other the way they run so fast. You yell after them. “Get the big sheet first, she needs to lay down!”

“Yes, Chef!”

You take a deep breath before moving your gaze onto Carmy. The screaming lead EM in you melts off your shoulders, just for the second.

He asks before you can even say anything, “Yes, Chef?”

“I need you to scrub in and get me gloves and an apron—” “On it, Chef—” “And you’re gonna sit in with me for the birth of your niece.”

He cringes, not to refuse, but just the mounting reality of the situation is dawning on him. His sister is going to give birth to his niece in their shared office of his high-class restaurant within it's first week of open.

But you then tag on, “Carmy, she needs you— Frankly, I’m not the one giving birth but fuckin' I need you. T-There.”

He softens instantly, like tranquilizing— Well, a bear.

“Yes, Chef.”

I know the opening probably feels so far away by now, but i do want to note that Breakfast Bruschetta is my own recipe that I used to make like every fuckin' day pre-employment. It's so goddamn good. I highly recommend it, babes. It's balsamic with brown sugar dissolved, btw, Carmy's just a quick explainer.

I wrote like a solid 75% of the labour sequence before deciding it just needed to have the breathing room of it's own chapter, so until next time for that one bbs. But I'm excited for it! And also dreading it! A lot of hard conversations combined with giving birth = nightmare to write, but well worth it, i think. Speaking of: I don't believe at the end of Season 2 that Sugar is at the end of her term of 36 weeks, but in our case here, she is. I'm very much so not interested in a very scary premature birth for our girl!! She's okay!! Dw!! I just wonked with time a little, hope that's okay.

And hey, look at that reveal! Bartender/Sommelier was code for bottle service-- Which is a very respectable career, btw, don't get it twisted-- I was critiquing it only in the way I would critique literally any other job: Misery Under Capitalism. And now we've got that fuckin' wedding in the future midst! Ah!!

Anyways please send me your thoughts ad nauseam, I reload my activity feed every 3 seconds to see what you guys are thinking. If you reblog, tell me what you think in the tags!! Yell at me in the replies!! Send an anon in!! I don't bite, I swear <3

Next Part

[zoesmp4]

NERVOUS “you’ve got me nervous to speak.” carl grimes x fem!reader

tags: angst to fluff, use of y/n, cussing

a/n: back from the dead!! sorta based on nervous by the nbhd, and there’s also a little tsitp steven and taylor action that i used for inspiration. lyrics r in bold + italics or in between paras. enjoy lovelies!!

the bond between you and carl was truly inseparable. you two had been through it all together, and never once had either of you thought about ending it all.

that was until now.

god, you don’t know how you found yourself in this situation. he’s just a friend. he’s always been just a friend. that’s what you believed, and that’s what you always told people. 

so how come, all of a sudden, he started becoming more than that? how come, out of the blue, you started getting butterflies at his gaze? it was an unfamiliar feeling, and you didn’t like it. you didn’t like it at all. 

you didn’t wanna do anything to jeopardize your beloved friendship, especially over something so dumb. you weren’t gonna lose everything all because of a stupid crush. so, after ages of decision making, you finally set your mind on a reasonable solution.

should i be quiet?

you were just gonna take some time to yourself. you were gonna stop talking to him for a bit. that’s all you needed, just some space. it couldn’t be that hard to lose feelings. besides, he would understand, right?

he in fact did not understand. “wanna come over? i just finished reading that comic you wanted.” he said, a grin plastered onto his face. “not today.” you quickly shut him down, and you could see the happiness on his face slowly fade away.

“oh, that’s fine. tomorrow?” you felt so bad. you really did wanna hang out with him, but you had to push away these feelings first. “i just need some time to myself for a while.”

your felt your heart pang when you looked at his expression. he gave you a slight smile, attempting to mask his disappointment. but you knew him. you knew him well enough to know he was upset. “yeah, i get it. i’ll see you later y/n.” he said, walking away. all of the energy he had when he approached you was long gone now.

it had been days, weeks even. you hadn’t uttered a word to him. so why wasn’t it working? why did you still long for him? it was so frustrating. 

not to mention, you were a mess. you would often find yourself with your head buried deep within your pillow, sniffling as tears flowed down your cheeks. on top of that, you weren’t getting enough sleep. you just missed carl. 

you figured the best thing you could do for yourself was to just get some fresh air. after all, it was no use trying to fix stuff with carl, you already fucked it all up. 

you took in the breeze, as you fiddled with your fingers. if it was a normal day, you would’ve been happy. you loved the cold, but today it was different. today, it made you feel numb. it made everything worse. 

you tried getting it off your mind. you tried to think about other things, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the look he had on his face the last time you talked to him. his smile was wiped clean off his face, and it was all your fault. 

you started to feel your eyes prick with tears. a single drop slowly traveled down your face, and you quickly wiped it off with your sleeve. 

you just wanted to cry, but you weren’t gonna let yourself do it out in the public. after all, once you started crying, you weren’t gonna stop. so, you turned around and picked up the pace. you were headed back home, where you could be vulnerable. 

your head was faced down, trying to hide your glassy eyes from anyone who could potentially see. “y/n?” you hear someone call out to you. the voice sounded familiar, and you instantly knew who it was without even lifting your head in the slightest. 

it was carl. you had to get away. just pretend you didn’t hear him, you thought to yourself. your footsteps quickened, until you heard his pleading voice once again. 

“just talk to me. please. is it something i said? i’m sorry for whatever i did.” 

“you didn’t do anything. it’s me. it’s all my fucking fault because my stupid self caught feelings for her best friend.” you wanted to say, but you restrained yourself. 

you finally came to a stop, turning around to face him. as soon as you met his gaze, you wanted to cry the hardest you’d ever cried before. 

he slowly stepped closer to you until his taller figure was in close in front of you. “can you please talk to me? you know i won’t get mad. you know i’m listening. so please, just please tell me what’s been bothering you.” he begged, his eyes softening. 

you let out a sigh, still sniffling. “it’s not your fault carl.” you said, your voice barely audible. “then what is it?” he said, keeping his voice at the same, calm volume. 

“i-i like you, and it’s really embarrassing.” you confess. you instantly regret your choice of words when you see a frown start to appear on his face. “i don’t know what i was expecting, but that was really fucking mean.” he says, about to walk away.

“no, carl. it’s embarrassing because of how much i like you.” there it is. that’s what you’ve been holding in. it felt weird hearing the words coming out of your mouth. “how is that embarrassing?” he questioned, the tender look started to come back on his face. 

ask me and ill tell you how i’ve been

“i- it’s like i forgot how to act around you. i’m always scared i’m gonna mess up. you’ve got me nervous to speak.”

that was the last thing you managed to get out before he pulled you into his chest for a tight hug. the dam holding your tears back broke.

the wetness stained his shirt, but he didn’t care. he rubbed your back with his arm, soothing you. you missed his embrace, the feeling you would get when you were in his arms felt heavenly.

after a few more seconds of the hug, carl shifted his hands to your shoulders. he softly pushed you back a little bit to get a look at your face.

he reached for your face to wipe any tears. “m’ sorry for ignoring you.” you said, voice soft and quiet. he shook his head, giving you a gentle smile. 

“you’re okay sweet girl, don’t worry about it.” he said. “i-it’s not okay. i ignored you for so long, i just cut you off like that. without a single warning. it was so inconsiderate and i’m really sor-” 

hush, baby, don’t you say another word

“you never shut up do you?” he said, cutting you off mid sentence before he crashed his lips onto yours. your eyes widened, and your movements froze before you slowly adjusted to the kiss. your eyes fluttered closed before you hesitantly tilted your head to get closer.

this was a new experience for the both of you, but it felt like he had years of practice. the way his hands made their way around your body, it sent shivers down your spine.  

after what seemed like an eternity, you both pulled away. the sounds of your mixed heavy breaths filled the air. carl’s hand reached for your face before he wiped your slightly smudged chapstick. 

he then tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. the gesture made the butterflies in your stomach act up more than they ever had in your life. 

i got goosebumps all over me

“next time, just let me know what’s on your mind, yeah?” he asks. “okay.” you say, looking at him with pure admiration. “that’s my girl.”