#but like. how scary could it be it has SPRINKLES ON IT

[gardenerian]

wahoooo waheeeee! tagged by @catgrassplantdad @heymrspatel @mybrainismelted @celestialmickey and @energievie for a lil tag game! woooheeee!

name: mel

do you drink coffee? no! it's icky! boooo!

what’s the best thing you ate today? lads i'll be honest it was. a cosmic brownie 😐

tell us about your first pet (or if you haven’t had a pet yet, what’s your dream pet?) pour one out for squeaky the hamster 🐹 my brother begged for a hamster and then got Bored after like two weeks so then i had a hamster, he was a cutie

if your life was a book, what would you call the current chapter? something pretentious about sisyphus, i think asldkfh actually maybe that would literally be it

what’s something you did recently that you’re proud of? cosmic brownie 🪐✨👽

what was your first dream job growing up? is it anything like the job you have now? i wanted to be a backup dancer for ricky martin at one point. there is video. i am....... Not That today.

what’s the name of the latest playlist you made? well this is very boring. it's "august 2024" bc i make a new one every month 😂

i am sick and fevery so this is the best i got 😴 tagging you reading this right now! do it! 😇 i love you!

[seungfl0wer]

*Run Rabbit*

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Primal Play, Breeding, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Sex Outside, (P In V), Reader called Bunny. (not proof read)

Kinks: Primal Play + Breeding

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

-🩵

Your boyfriend has invited you to go camping for the weekend with him. A nice peaceful area he has found, nestled in the woods a small cabin by the lake. The place was beautiful and at night you could see the stunning stars sprinkled across the sky. You had already set up everything and were just relaxing by the fire as he cooked some meat over it.

The two of you sat there just talking about everything until Minho left out a chuckle. You tilted your head as if to ask him what he was laughing at and he pointed. You squinted your eyes to see two rabbits chasing on another the bigger one mounting the other. “Ah to have the thrill of the chase” he said almost too nonchalantly. Staring at him for a brief second “hmm” you said eyes locked on him. “What? Don’t think it’d be fun for me to chase you through these woods like a little bunny running from a mighty cat?”

He was meeting your gaze now smirking at the way your eyes almost lit up at his words. “Yeah? And does it end in the big ol cat eating the rabbit” you teased. “Something like that. Something will probably get eaten in the end” he shrugged. You choked on your spit at his comment, you could feel yourself becoming turned on as you played fantasy’s in your head. “Bunny” he said his voice almost teasing “I’ll give you a minute to run as far as you can.” The devilish smile that was plastered across his face made you almost moan.

“And if you catch me?” You say tilting your head again. He breathed in letting the air out in a sigh “then I’ll fuck you like the little rabbit you are” he chuckled. You stood up looking at him with a smile “you gotta catch me first kitty cat.” You teased. You were ready to bolt out of there before Minho spoke “before I start the timer you remember the safe word right bunny?” He said already eyeing you up. You nod “mhm.” You said in almost a hum. “Good you better get going I hit the timer a good 10 seconds ago” he said with a laugh.

You didn’t even hesitate running through the woods looking everywhere for a place you could hide. You heard Minho yell “Oh bunny” your brain going fuzzy realizing the time was already up and he was on the hunt. You ran past a tree with a red mark realizing you had already passed it. You were going in circles. You could hear twigs snapping as Minho ran through the woods in search for you. You didn’t know if you wanted to hide because the chase excited you or wanted to be pounced on from how turned on you were with all of this.

A twig snapped again sounding too close for comfort this time. As you started to run again you could hear Minho behind you “bunny” his voice almost growl running close behind you. You bobbed and weaved through the brush trying to lose him. You looked back quickly and saw he wasn’t there which made you slow down a bit. You were trying to catch your breath before you hear another twig break this time directly behind you. Before you could even react Minho had his arms around you, he manhandled you to the ground.

He moved you into position ass up in the air head down in the dirt. “Dirty little rabbit gave me a good chase.” He growled gripping your hips nicely as he pushed his body down onto to whisper into your ear. “Did the stupid little bunny really think she could out smart the sly cat hmm?” He chuckled an almost villain laugh. “I’m gonna fuck this rabbit stupid. Gonna show her why little bunnies shouldn’t mess with big scary cats.” He said voice husky, he was gripping your thighs hard rutting into you as he talked.

“My pretty little bunny” he said moving his body back to smack your ass hard. You let out a whimper your core aching from his touch, from his hot words. God you needed him, you needed him so badly it almost hurt. Minho on the other hand his brain was so foggy. The scenario running through his head as he felt his animalistic desires taking over. He felt as if he just caught his prey and was ready to completely devour you. The glint in his eyes was almost unnerving but fuck was it ever so hot.

He had no thoughts in his head other than ‘breed bunny.’ His body was almost on fire from desire and so was yours. Everything felt hot felt like a movie scene or I guess a porn scene. Minhos hands yanked down your sweats, ripping the pretty little lace panties you had on before pushing his fingers into you. The feeling of having something finally inside you made you moan so heavenly. Your wet cunt dripping around his digits clenching around them.

He chuckled that same villain like chuckle “you’re so fucking desperate aren’t you” he said his free hand coming down hard on your ass. “You’re such a filthy little animal” his voice almost a growl at this point. He pumped his fingers in and out of you stopping abruptly pulling them out. You let out a loud whine at the loss of them feeling so empty now. “I’ll give you another minute to run hmm?” He said his tone teasing. When you didn’t move though he smirked “no? Rather stay here and let me fuck you senseless? Gonna be my little toy to fuck hmm?” His words made you groan in response “y-yes” you stuttered out.

Minho bit his lip hard, he pulled his pants down quickly his cock sprang up smacking his stomach. He wasn’t super girthy but was very long. You always joked he had a pornstars dick which almost inflated his ego of course. He aligned himself to your entrance rubbing the head between your folds hitting your throbbing little nub. The sensation made you moan you were so sensitive wanting just to be touched at this point.

Minhos eyes were locked on the way your juices wet his cock making a mess of it. He let out a low groan before he put the tip to your entrance pushing fully in, in one swift motion. He let out the most lustful moan as his balls slapped your wetness. You almost screamed at the feeling of being so filled so fast. He didn’t let himself adjust long before he was pounding into you. His hands gripping harshly at your hips nails digging deep into your skin.

The strewn of ‘fucks’ leaving his mouth started to mumble together, and you? You were such a moaning mess under him drool trailing down your chin. He let another harsh smack to your ass before moving his hand to in tangle in your hair gripping it hard pulling your head back. “This wanted you wanted? The big Cat fucking you like a rabbit in heat hmm? Wanting nothing more than me to fuck you hard like this?” He spat.

You groaned in response but it wasn’t good enough for him “Are you too stupid to talk? Use your words or are you just a dumb little bunny?” He hissed pulling your hair harder. “Fuck- Mm-Min yes- want-“ your words were almost incoherent at this point already so fucked out of your mind. He laughed in response “you can’t even speak properly to fucked out already?” He said this time he didn’t wait for a response. He let go of your hair pushing your head back down as-well as your body, keeping your ass in the air though.

The new angle let him get even deeper he watched as his cock disappeared and reappeared in and out of your sloppy cunt. You could hear him mumbling to himself ‘what mess, so wet for me’ he said ‘gonna cum deep and breed you good’ his voice was almost a whisper and a growl combined. It was so fucking hot. He left a smack to your ass again smirking at the big red print he had made. His movements were becoming a bit erratic, he could feel his high coming. Not wanting this to end just yet he pushed deep into you before stopping his movements.

He reached his hand down to play with your neglected clit rubbing harsh circles over it. He moved his body against yours once again sucking your shoulder and neck harshly. He loved marking your body letting everyone know you were taken. You were taken by him. And only him. The feeling of you being so stuffed, him now biting your neck harshly and his hand moving so perfectly against your clit was too much. Your legs started to shake it becoming harder for you to stay how you were positioned. Minho growled against your skin “stay” he staid feeling your legs become wobbly.

“Min- close- please” you moaned the drool dropping down your face now. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made him start to move. His movements were slow at first before he quickened them groaning against your ear now. “Cum on my cock while I pump you full, gonna breed you so good. Gonna fill you with all my cum- gonna-“ his words stuttered as his high was approaching “gonna make fill you till I know your pregnant with all my kittens” he said bringing his free hand to grip around your throat moving your head to kiss you sloppily.

Sucking hard on your tongue exchanging moans teeth crashing into each other. You felt your legs almost give out at the last hard thrust of Minhos burring his cock deep inside you before releasing all his hot cum. You could feel his cock poking at your stomach feeling all of his hot liquid fill you to the brim. His hand that was still playing with you clit moved faster as your high came along just as quick. Your high washing over you as your cunt gripped him perfectly. “Ah- fuck-“ he moaned out at the feeling “your cunts gonna suck every last drop out of me” he said body shaking at the feeling.

“Y/n” he moaned into your ear he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as you came down from your high both of you trying to catch your breath. Once you two came down you could feel him still twitching a bit inside you. His arms lazily wrapped around you his head in the crook of your neck as he kissed you softly. “Ugh fuck” he groaned out. “What?” You said breathily. “We’re gonna have to walk the whole way back” he whined. You chuckled a bit “yeah guess so.”

He smiled against your skin “I’ll give you a minute to get back or we’ll just go for a round two if I catch you.” He chuckled a bit. “Minho, I don’t even think I can stand right now.” You teased. “Well better try before I start the counter again.” He said kissing your neck. You were gonna call his bluff but you could feel his cock become hard again. “If I make it home before you catch me we are taking a nice bath.” You bargained. He nodded “fine but you better start running I already started the timer.” He said with an evil grin. This little asshole I swear.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[chososdiscordkitten]

Can I Suck Them?

Synopsis: Asking jjk men if u can suck on their boobies, ranked from most sensitive nipples to least w/ GN!Reader

Includes: 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢

(a.n)the only one that has like 'real' smut it gojos, the first time I write for Naoya...... scary.

MDNI

Kento Nanami

Nanami had caught you staring at his chest a handful of times, often thinking why you were looking- or why you had that depraved look in your eye. But when you finally had the gall to ask- “Can I suck your tits?” in a playful tone- eyeing the little bumps beneath his white sleep shirt that accentuated his large pecs. 

“I don't have tits, sweetheart.” he smiled with a sigh as he looked down to his coffee cup. You hummed, looking at the curve of his chest, 

With a smile you crooned, “Is that a no?” watching his expression fall- in all honesty Nanami thought you were kidding, the question not too strange from the usual things you'd say to him. Knowing you'd say little unfiltered comments with no meaning behind them. 

He furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side waiting for you to laugh and say you were kidding. 

Only you didn't. 

Finding you standing before him, thumbing the protruding bud hidden by the white fabric as you stared at his waning expression. 

Nanami tried keeping a stoic face- he tried pretending that it didn't feel like anything. But the more he tried to keep the little sighs in the sound of whimpers to himself- the more they wanted to come out. 

All that from just a few swipes of your thumb on his nipple. Nanami knew he was sensitive- often having to wear an undershirt beneath his button downs to avoid the light grazes from the coarse fabric. But he didn't know they were sensitive in this way. 

In the way that had his cock jumping in his pajama bottoms, had his heart pounding beneath his plentiful pecs, and most embarrassing of all- had his eyebrows pinching up in a light crease, with soft puffs coming from his lungs in the shape of small whimpers. 

And though you looked at him with an astonished expression- he still felt a sprinkle of vulnerability as you pressed your thumb onto the pebble beneath the fabric. 

Here you were- thinking if he’s squirming now, even with the millimeter of his shirt separating your thumb from his nipple- what face would he make once you sucked them?

Nanami placed his mug onto the kitchen counter, fearing if you continued he might drop it. 

You pulled your thumb from the white cotton, mouth watering, scoffing lightly at how you could almost see the halo of pink beneath the white fabric. 

Your hands fell to the hem of his shirt- looking into his eyes and asking, “Can I?” with an expression that could only be described as wondrous. 

Nanami hesitated, he furrowed his eyebrows and thought about it for a solid few seconds- unsure if he wanted to tread through these waters so early in the morning. 

Bordering on perverted how fast your hands maneuvered his shirt off the second he nodded ‘yes’. 

You stared at his plump chest for a second- admiring the light peach fuzz on them, Nanami was used to your deranged antics, sure. Times when you'd bring up something new to try in bed. Or when you'd spout insinuating compliments to him when he got home from work. Almost all those times, you were on the receiving end. 

But this- this was easing into a new dynamic that was unexplored between you two. You flashed your eyes to him, parting your lips and leaning in closer to his chest. 

The sound that left his throat when you licked a stripe onto the little stiff mound- was intoxicating. 

Your hand went to his other, rolling it in your fingers as you pressed your lips onto his chest. Nanami’s shoulders shivered from the warmth of your mouth, small huffs falling from his lips without censorship. 

The feeling of succession you felt when you finally swirled your tongue around it, how it felt to feel his cock harden against your tummy- it was like finally cracking a level of a game you've spent countless hours trying to beat.

The satisfaction of hearing the little gasps from his throat when you grazed your teeth against the little bud was something you didn't know you needed to hear till now. Even more when you'd let it go with a quiet ‘pop’, blowing light air onto the damp peak on his chest. 

The shivering breaths he exhaled were exhilarating to hear.

It wasn't long till you granted him the favor of pulling his weeping cock from his bottoms, stroking him slowly as he braced his hands onto the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping onto it. 

It wasn't an act that needed any dirty talk, nor any teasing from you. All you wanted was to please him. And maybe, soothe the itch you've felt in your brain since you noticed how suckable his chest really was. 

You were sure that this little discovery would make its way into some intimate moments with Nanami, judging how fucked out he looked from a few soft strokes and having his nipples sucked on. You were positive he could cum from that alone, but that was a trial for another day. 

Naoya Zenin

I honestly don't think he'd be open to it- but if he was he'd need a lot, a lot of convincing. But, I think if you were to be kissing him- sloppy and his tongue practically shoved down your throat. His back flush against the wall as your hands gripped onto his bare torso. He’d pull away, huffing with a light blush on his cheeks-

Naoya would place his hand atop your head, aiming your head down his bare torso. He would always do this, guide you to suck his cock before any kind of intercourse. 

Only you weren't some anti-romantic monster like he was. In an attempt to make this more caring- more sensual. You placed light kisses onto his collar bones, undoing the buckle of his pants as he huffed in annoyance. 

Naoya gruffed, “Hurry up.” he spit through clenched teeth, not knowing why you’d always have to take your time when it came to these things. Even when you explained ‘it feels better when it's slow’ he didn't believe you. 

But as you licked a small stripe past his nipple- just trying to convince him that a little build up was fun. Naoya unwillingly let out a sound neither of you had heard before. 

A mix of a hic and whimper- You froze with your lips parted, almost as though time stopped. Naoya’s shoulders tensed up, waiting for you to make a snide comment or make fun of him. 

Only you didn't, instead you darted your tongue past your lips, pressing it back gently onto his nipple as he huffed a quiet, ‘Sto-’ with a quivered lip, melting into the feeling of your tongue on his sensitive bud. Swirling the tip of your tongue around the erogenous zone as he sighed with a gulp.

That was till the realization of what was actually happening set in. He grasped your shoulders- pushing you back lightly. The look on his face was littered with confusion, a deep blush, a hint of thrill and most of all: he looked mortified. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, inhaling as you parted your lips- only for Naoya to interrupt. “Don’t.” he gritted through his teeth, “Don't say anything.” he avoided your gaze as he tried catching his breath. 

“It’s okay Naoya-” you exhaled in a whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek only for him to pull away with an exhale. “Shut up.” he gruffed, pushing away your hand that tried to caress his cheek.

Seeing as he refused to look at you or accept your assurances, instead you leaned down to the center of his chest. Right below his collar bones and pressed a kiss to his flushed skin. Being able to feel his heart pounding against your lips as he sighed. A mix of distress and satisfaction at feeling your lips press against his skin.

With your lips brushing against the little curve of his chest, “I just wanna make you feel good.” you murmured against his skin, only hearing a small exhale from Naoya’s bowed head, trying to hide the embarrassing expression he was making. 

“It's repulsive-” he whispered with a hidden grimace as you pressed soft pecks around his sensitive nipple, the blush on his cheeks tingling the tip of his nose. 

You tried hiding the smile that tickled his skin, “No, Naoya,” your words vibrated against his chest as you pulled from it, “It's hot.” you smiled before darting your tongue back out of your mouth. Assuring him that this wasn't some anomaly or out of the ordinary. You were ready to show him just how alluring his sensitivity was with your tongue. 

Again, he would let you do it. But only after a lot, a lot of convincing. But once you start, he's a puddle in your hands. 

Satoru Gojo

I see him applying lotion after a shower, carelessly swiping his hands to massage the lotion onto his chest. If he was being honest, Satoru had noticed your little staring problem whenever his chest would be glazed with something, clenching your jaw as you eyed the curve of his chest. 

A shit eating grin splayed onto his lips as he felt you gawk at his bare chest. “Hungry?” he spoke up with a cocky giggle. You sighed heavily, almost agreeing with what he asked. 

“It's so unfair.” you muttered, keeping a light tone as you watched his eyebrows furrow.

“Unfair?”

You took a few steps closer to him, a feigned mournful look on your face as you reached out to his still damp chest, holding his tits gently in your hands as though they were a prized possession, earning for Gojo to let out a breathy giggle, “Yes, deeply unfair.” you scoffed, running your thumb over his pale nipple. Earning a small huff from him in response.

Gojo felt an itch crawl up his back as you lightly grazed his nipple with your thumb, your other hand indenting into the swell seeing how pliant his skin was.

Early in your relationship you were aware his nipples were on the more sensitive side, seeing how blushed they'd get after he straightened his back, the friction from being chest to chest in missionary the cause. But you had yet to suck on them, even if most times your mouth would water seeing the light sheen of sweat on his chest after intercourse. 

You sucked your teeth, “They're sooo pretty ‘toru.” you exasperated, causing him to scoff at your words that sounded more sarcastic than you meant them to. 

Trying to play along- “You wanna suck ‘em?” he smiled, expecting you to laugh it off and continue your little charade. Only your eyes glimmered with a smile on your lips, and you didn't laugh it off. 

“Would you let me?” venturous and mouth watering at the thought. 

True, Satoru would let you if you really wanted to. Knowing you sucking his nipples wouldn't be the oddest thing done in your sex life- but it was an unmapped area that neither of you had brought up till this point. Though there were small grazes in passing- kissing down his torso before you went down on him, sure. But never did you latch onto it. 

And as Satoru looked at your expression, filled with yearning and want- it made one thing clear to him, that he was gonna be on the receiving end of nipple stimulation this time. 

You wanted to find a better place to do this than in the humid bathroom- so with a few sloppy kisses as your fingers lightly tugged and pulled on his pinkening nipples. You were surprised with the little whimpers he breathed into your mouth, knowing he was sensitive generally but he was extra sensitive as you tempted the rosy peaks of his chest to harden. 

Finding yourself kissing down his neck, your hands rolling his pink buds in your fingers as Gojo laid his head into the pillows. Softly whimpering as his cock started to harden against his pj’s. 

You pulled your lips from his collar bone, amazed with the roaming blush that only accentuated his pretty tits. You sighed as you watched him wriggle from your hands pinching his nipples, “Does it feel that good?” you asked, awestricken from how loud he was starting to whimper. 

Gojo huffed with a small smirk, “You have no idea how good it feels.” he whimpered with a light whine. You placed your lips onto the glistening swell of one his pecs, removing your stimulating fingers and tracing it down his carved torso. 

Your hand found its way to the elastic of his bottoms, softly palming his bulge as you placed wet kisses to the blushed swell of his pec. His large hand was on the back of your head- almost cradling it as he felt a ghost-like stripe of your spit dampen his nipple. Pulling back ever so slightly and blowing gently onto where you previously lapped. Causing a shivering whimper to rumble from his chest.

Breathlessly, Satoru huffed, “You keep doing that and I might cu-” he tried warning, only to be interrupted by your hand dipping into his pants, softly grasping his shaft as you attached your lips back to his nipple. A whiny ‘nngh’ from his throat as your reward. 

Swirling your tongue against the sensitivity- his hand on your head bordering on fisting your hair from how worked up he was getting. 

You were amazed at how pretty he sounded- how his cock was crying into your hand. Gojo sounded so fucking desperate- so needy. Like he was close to orgasm, but he couldn't focus enough on cumming. Your hand was too slow, stark comparison to your tongue that was flicking and slathering over his tender nipple. 

Satoru inhaled- filling his lungs with as much air he could as he reached his hand up to his opposite nipple, gently rolling it like you did before- you flashed your eyes to his hand, watching him play with his nipple causing a low groan to vibrate onto his nipple from your tongue.

This caused Satoru to grunt from the sudden tingle- “Faster baby- m’so close-” he managed, the words littered with whimpers as his hips bucked into your hand. 

You quickened your hand- fisting his cock as quick as you could. Hearing chopped throaty moans fall from his lips at the action- various breathless’- ‘Dont stop’ and warnings, ‘m’cummi-’ between every whimper and moan. 

Even if he meant it as a joke- you were happy to suck his tits till he was shuddering with ragged breaths. And Gojo was more than happy to let you.

Toji Zenin

Oh god, this man. I think you'd make a comment on it once. Just once, and now anytime he'd catch you staring he'd remind you he can feel your gaze.

“You're staring.” he'd say, knowing he wore a compression shirt that was not only- a smidge too tight (a lot tight), but it was also white- put those together and you can practically see the pink ring of his nipples through the fabric. 

It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Like he was trying to tempt you to ask him. “Hard not to when you wear those tiny shirts.” You scoffed, earning Toji to look down and pretending to think if it was too small. Being able to see the stretch of the fabric across his chest. 

“They shrink in the wash.” he retorted, almost offended by your complaint. You gave a sarcastic ‘uh huh’ before returning your gaze back onto his chest. “I mean I can see your nipples from here-” you complained, hearing a sigh fall from his lips.

It was early, having breakfast after getting dressed. Which brought on this whole ‘tiny shirt’ debacle.

“You don't like it, don't look.”

“That's exactly why I'm looking.” you huffed mindlessly. Earning for him to scrunch his eyebrows together and pout his lip in a light grimace. You inhaled, chin in your hand as he played with the food on his plate, “I mean- you don't feel the air brush-” 

Toji called your name, almost too stern and in a borderline irritable tone. “-If you wanna ask me somethin’- ask.” he huffed, looking at you with a stoic expression. 

“Can. I… ssssuck them.” You droned out- not even bothering to make it sound like a question. Toji perked a brow in astonishment- he knew you wanted to do something to his chest- but the way you said it shocked him from how forward you were, knowing you usually danced around what you wanted leaving him to guess. 

“You want to suck my-” Toji tried speaking trying to get a clearer answer from you. 

“Your tits. Yes.” he scoffed at your crudeness. Toji thought it over, leaning back into the chair as he looked at your expression that got more and more flushed by the seconf. 

He sighed, tilting his head almost in pity at how nervous you had gotten, “I don't see why not.”

And with that you practically teleported onto his lap, straddling him as he sat on the dining chair. The over excited look on your face told him this had been a thought in your mind for a while-

His hands reached for the hem of the tight shirt- only for your own to halt it. “Don’t.” you smiled- almost maniacally. 

Toji shrugged it off, assumed you'd take it off for him and watched your hands trail onto his chest, placing your extended fingers onto each pec and squeezing lightly. “Are they sensitive?” you whispered feeling his hands rest on your hips with a sigh. 

“Dunno- no ones ever been weird enough to ask if they could suck ‘em.” he spewed almost in exasperation. Keeping a straight face as you huffed in amusement.

Excited to be the first to ever find out if he’d be responsive to you sucking them, you grinned. And that only proved his point in you being peculiar. 

You trailed your right hand down, now that you were up close you could see his nipple clearly through the strained fabric. Placing your index and middle finger on either side of the peaking color, pressing them closed and feeling the little bud between your fingers. “You said suck ‘em, not play with them.” he practically scolded, his cheeks starting to flush in the slightest. 

You sighed, leaning down and slipping your tongue past your lips- so ready to lick a stripe against the cotton. Only Toji watched what you were doing with furrowed eyebrows, a little unsettled that you were so eager to lick at them through fabric. But Toji knew he was in no place to judge, there have been stranger things done between you two, at his request. 

You fluttered your eyes shut as your tongue wet the white cotton. Almost instantly making the fabric clear against his nipple. Toji tried to keep an unbothered expression, but the small little laps against his nipple. The wet fabric caused his nipple to harden beneath the translucent spot you had licked.

Little by little, one gentle lick after the other, Toji started squirming beneath you. His cock rising not knowing if it was from your tongue, or from watching you. 

Feeling the sensitivity build up with every roll of your fingers over his opposite one. Till the feeling started making him regret allowing you this, and when he finally removed his damp shirt. 

Toji was able to feel the difference of how the air felt against his chest, being able to feel every light breath you exhaled from your nose. A shiver settled in his lower spine as you lightly brushed the tip of your tongue against the little bud of his nipple. 

Though the feeling was new- it wasn't unwelcomed. I think Toji would just see it as a new form of foreplay to be explored. 

Choso Kamo

Ahh my favorite boy. I'm discarding my favoritism for once. After a deep detailed conversation with my brother and a lot of analyzing, i've come to terms with choso being in the lower middle when it comes to how sensitive they are *sigh* as much as i'd like to say he's the most sensitive, i have to write this unbiased (￣ε￣〃)

I feel like the first time you ask him- out of all of them he would have the most ?? reaction. Let's pretend this takes place well after the many firsts of a relationship, okay? 

Sitting criss cross in front of each other on your shared bed. An expression that can only be described as mortified on his face, “You want to what?” he murmured with an irked head, thinking he misheard you. You sighed, all the confidence it took to say it the first time only to repeat it. 

You inhaled, “Choso can I-” you huffed seeing the look of mortification stay on his face, realizing he didn't mishear you the first time. “Would you let me- suck your… chest?” 

Choso knew of nipple stimulation, of how it can provide some pleasure. Though he himself hadn't explored it, he was skeptical of it feeling like anything to him. At first he’d only say yes to not embarrass you. 

“I don't see why you'd want to.” he mumbled to himself as he took his t-shirt off, you scooched closer to him, reaching out your hand and running your fingers atop the swell of one of his pec’s. 

“I found out the other day that some men have really sensitive nipples.” you smiled, running your thumb over the little peak. Flashing your eyes up and watching his expression go unchanged.

“And if mine aren't?” he looked down to your exploratory hand, raising a brow as you lightly swiped across it. 

You grinned, “There's no harm in checkin’.” with a hum, pressing your index finger and middle finger on either side of his budding nipple. Lightly pinching it between the sides of your fingers as he shifted softly.

“What does it feel like?” you whispered, flashing your eyes to his expression that seemed slightly perplexed. Choso felt his cheeks tingle, not from the action itself but watching that little glimmer in your eye form, how amazed you were at it getting firm between your fingers. 

Choso shifted slightly, feeling your fingers pinch softly. A small smile formed on his face as he felt the little pinch send a tingle down his spine. Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Dunno.. weird?” he mumbled, causing you to flash a giddy smile. 

You pulled your fingers from his chest, and placed them into your mouth. Only the action confused Choso, since you asked to suck them, and didn't really get what this build up was about. 

“Like-” you scoffed, placing your damp fingers onto his nipple. “A good weird or a bad weird?” you smiled, seeing his lips part as you rolled his firm nipple between your fingers.

Answering your question without words, he let out a little exhale that took the shape of a moan as you pinched it lightly. “Is t-this what it feels like for you?” he huffed, his cheeks starting to blush as his cock jumped in his sweats. 

You grinned, seeing your efforts pay off in the meek way he asked that question. “Sometimes-” you hummed sweetly, watching his shoulders shudder. “Can I put my mouth on it now?” you grinned, Choso bowed his head- not wanting you to see the expression forming on his face. 

“If you want to.” he mumbled, straightening his back and planting his hands behind him- pushing his chest out to you as he looked to the side. You almost let out a lecherous giggle at how shy he looked, but you held it in. Not wanting to embarrass him any more than what was needed. 

You rested yourself on the backs of your calves, placing your hands on the sides of his ribs as he inhaled. Aware of what was coming but not knowing what it would feel like.

With a smile you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his temple, “You want me to jack you off too?” you whispered into his ear as you trailed your hand to his neglected nipple. Being able to see his cock rising to life beneath his sweats as you grazed your fingers against the other.

The way Choso called your name made it seem like you had just said the most filthy thing he had ever heard, brushing lightly onto his unstimulated bud, making note that though at first he may not feel much, the more you play with them the more sensitive they became. 

“I just wanna help,“ you smiled, looking down at the prominent bulge in his pants, “-but if you don't want it~” you teased, rolling the hardening bud between your fingers. 

“Just-” he huffed, feeling you roll the bud between your thumb and pointer finger, “Just don't say things like that-” he managed, feeling a small kiss pressed onto his cartilage before you trailed them down his neck.  

You left light trails of your saliva on the curve of his pec, looking up at him as you fiddled with his other nipple, “Is that a noo..? Or?” you smiled against his skin, being able to feel his heartbeat pound against your lips. 

Choso took a minute to think on it, your mouth avoidant of his nipple and your fingers stimulating the other making it very hard to think right now. You huffed a smile against the little trail of spit that glistened on his chest, “You think I can make you cum from just sucking them?” there you went again saying things that made Choso let out a sigh.

“No, probably not,” he muttered through clenched teeth, “probably’ll be frustrating to try.” he finished, feeling you hum against the curve of his tit. You took that declaration and started trailing your hand down his torso, keeping the other planted on the bed as you plunged your hand into his pants, grasping onto his member and assisting it out of his bottoms. 

You locked eyes with him, mouth watering at the thought of how tender and malleable his nipple would feel on your tongue. In tandem with the first stroke on his cock, you traced the tip of your tongue around his slightly swollen nipple. Choso’s lips unwillingly letting out a muffled grunt mixed with a whine. 

Though it takes more time to get him to that whimpering point, it's worth it.

(if u want more my ‘prettier in pink’ fic has soooo much nipple play with choso ʘ‿ʘ)

Suguru Geto

He'd look at you with a quirked brow, all but asking- ‘Are you serious?’ as you looked at him with dazzled eyes, your hands planted on his sternum as you straddled his hips. 

The question came from your lips without permission- middle of foreplay when your eyes caught onto his nipples. You traced the pads of your fingers onto one of them, hearing a low groan rumble from his tongue. Not from the feeling, but from the act of it. 

Suguru has always been open to trying anything once, and the way your eyes glimmered as you thumbed the little bud on his chest. “Can I suck them?” you muttered, feeling his hands trail up your hips, he perked his eyebrow, a light blush on his cheeks as you ground your heat onto him. 

Though he was confused at your request, he nodded his head ‘yes’. Causing you to hunch your back and lean your head down. Kissing on his bare collarbones, trailing them between his chest, leaving a trail of your spit between them as his clothed cock shifted beneath you. 

Usually Suguru was the one who took on the responsibility of pleasuring you over his own needs, even if you offered- he’d just tell you it's fine. So the dynamic was a little different as you kissed onto the swell of his pec’s. 

Suguru was watching you with furrowed eyebrows, convinced that this was hardly foreplay. Besides, what's gonna come from a little nipple sucking?

But as you circled the ring of his bud, the exhale that came from your nose tickling his damp nipple- a chill ran down his spine settling in his lower abdomen as you swirled your tongue around the ring of color. Again, not from the action itself, but how you mimicked the way he would swirl  his tongue around your own.

You flattened your tongue and did a full swipe of his velvet nipple.

Keeping up the light licks and small grazes of your teeth as he did with you, earning little to no reactions. 

And even as you were riding him- trying your best to give him some kind of pleasure through his nipples. But not only did you manage to get them sore, you managed to get him frustrated enough to groan in dissatisfaction. Even if he was fucking into you- your attempts at stimulation were mildly irritable.

“They've just never been sensitive.” he huffed guiding your head to pull from his chest and looking at you, only you muttered something like ‘lemme keep going’ 

That's when he just gave a little laugh, “No- its starting to hurt.” he joked, gripping onto your hips and fucking up into you- hoping you’d forget this little urge to suck his chest. 

Overall, he would let you. But realistically he wouldn't feel much, would let you try and try till they were sore just because he liked you so very much. 

Hiromi Higuruma

Unfortunately I think Hiromi probably has the least sensitive nipples:( 

When you asked he kinda grimaced? Not seeing attraction or a point in it since he's not reactive to those kinds of touches. But he would let you try after you looked at him with a pout. 

And try you did. You did all you could, rolling them between your fingers, pinching them, lapping at them softly, then harsher. Didn't really achieve much, but Hiromi did get hard watching you try. Finding it endearing that you were so eager to make him feel good from just his nipples. 

But once you gave up, Hiromi was eager to show you how sensitive his cock was instead. 100% believe all the sensitivity he would’ve had in his nipples, doubled onto his cockhead. 

Hiromi was very excited to show you where he was most sensitive, “You can suck and lap at that as much as you want- I'll be responsive.” He assured with a smug smile.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

[bluesidez]

Hello!!! Love that you’re taking requests now 🫶🏽 would you write a domestic!miguel fic? Like showing the chaotic but fluffy dysfunction of the O’Hara household. Miguel and the reader already have two kids, maybe reader is pregnant with the third (if you’re comfortable with writing that)

I just really need some fluff in my life lol 😅

[Five Peas In A Pod]

lab taster: @scorpihoooe 🩻

pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Pregnant!Reader

summary: No family's life is exactly perfect, but it doesn't make them any less beautiful.

content warning: lots and lots of fluff, mentions of vomit, mentions of pregnancy and pregnancy cravings, mentions of food, could possibly be suggestive? but not enough to warrant a huge warning, a lot of crying but I promise it's not sad

word count: 4.3k, not proofread

a/n: I apologize for this being so late! But I'm really happy with how it turned out, so I hope you enjoy it as well!

“Finally.”

Miguel slid under the covers, grunting as he inched towards your back. His breath was warm on your head as he positioned one arm under one of your pillows and another around your waist.

“How are we feeling?” he kissed your scalp and rubbed down your stomach.

“Not too great, she’s been kicking for the past forty minutes.”

“That’s no good,” Miguel shifted to place his mouth on your shoulder. “What’s wrong, mija? Did you miss me?”

Your baby girl brought her feet to where Miguel held his hand, tapping away like there was there was no tomorrow. Miguel chuckled and wrote a pattern into your skin with his thumb.

“I’m glad you two are having a lovely reunion, but I’d like to go to sleep.”

Miguel kissed up your shoulder and neck as you sighed.

“Hear that Gabi? Can you calm down until tomorrow? Mama needs to sleep so you can keep growing. We can talk in the morning.”

Like magic, Gabriella’s little feet slowed to a halt.

“She hasn’t even seen you yet and she’s already a daddy’s girl,” you weave your fingers through his over your stomach. “What’s next? She’ll look like you too?”

“Mm,” Miguel placed his lips behind your ear. “I hope she looks like you. She’ll be the most beautiful in the world.”

You smiled, “Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Miguel took his hands down your body and massaged your hip and lower back. You groaned and melted into your pillow, arching your body into Miguel’s hold. With his ministrations and your daughter giving you a break, you start to fade into dreamland.

You could almost visualize your next craving you were going to make tomorrow. A big bowl of mashed potatoes with chunks of pickles, bacon, and caramel drizzle. Maybe some sprinkles too.

The door of the bedroom creaked, Miguel looking over his shoulder.

“Daddy? Mommy? I threw up.”

Miguel’s hands paused and he heaved a heavy sigh.

There was a dip in the bed and a shuffle of slides across the floor.

“Is your stomach still feeling funny, bub?”

You turned your body to watch Miguel bend down and check your second oldest for soiled clothes. Daniel shook his head and tucked his chin into his chest, eyes welling up with tears.

“Hey, hey, what’s the matter?”

“I’m sorry,” his voice was shaking. “I didn’t mean to.”

You got up on the edge of the bed and walked around to the other side. You sat on your knees next to Miguel and pressed the back of your hand to Daniel’s forehead. He wasn’t burning up, but he was trembling.

“We know you didn’t mean to, honey. Sometimes, we just get sick. It’s ok!”

“Yeah, buddy. Papá gets sick all of the time.”

“Really?” Daniel looked to Miguel with big doe eyes, a baby picture of Miguel brought to life.

“Absolutely.”

“And Mama has to nurse him back to health-”

“Ok! Here,” Miguel tugged at the sleeves of his shirt while you laugh. “Let’s clean you up and get you some medicine. It was probably really scary, huh?”

Daniel nodded his head as Miguel helped him take off his pajama pants.

“C’mon. Let’s take a quick bubble bath. How does that sound? No need to be sad,” you gave Daniel a hug and kissed his cheek.

“I’ll get the sheets and clothes in the washing machine and join you.” Miguel said as he helped you up. So much for cuddles before bed.

Miguel was quick to scope Daniel’s room. Any smell of tonight’s stir fry mixed with the chocolate milk from lunch and your waves of morning sickness might come back. He was quick to transfer the sheets to the washing machine and spray the room down with disinfectant. Luckily, the damage wasn’t drastic, so a quick change of sheets and a mop to the floor was all that was needed.

By the time he got to the bathroom, Daniel was wrapped up in a green dinosaur hoodie towel with a smile on his face as you blew raspberries into his cheek.

Miguel gasped, “Are you two having a party without me?”

Daniel folded his hands under his chin and nodded meekly, face rosy.

“Nonsense!” Miguel swept him up in his arms. “There’s no party without Papá, no?”

The hall filled with giggles as Miguel airplaned Daniel back to his room. The chatter amongst them filled the noise as Miguel reassured Daniel that he and mommy would only be a room away if was feeling sick again.

He ran lotion over his body and placed him in paw print pajamas. He wrapped him tight in the covers and shifted the star night light on the nightstand. With a whisper of goodnight, Miguel inched his way to the door.

However, the crumbling face of the five year old as Miguel looked through the crack tugged at his heart. He opened the door, swept Daniel up, and trudged back to his own bedroom.

Walking into the room, you were laying down with the opposite side of the duvet flipped up and an extra pillow in between yours and his.

Your face was knowing, a shake in your shoulders as you watched Miguel rock a clingy baby in his arms to the bed.

“Joining mommy and daddy, Daniel?”

“Uh huh,” he crawls to the middle and pulls the covers up. You lay a hand on his tummy over the duvet as Miguel slips in with a deep sigh.

He turns and places his hand over yours, the two of you acting as a shield. “I love you’s” and “good nights” are exchanged and a kiss between the two of you is shared before Daniel whines about wanting a kiss too. Both of you laugh and kiss him on his cheeks as he settled into his pillow.

You rub his chest lightly, something that put him to sleep easily as a baby.

His eyes start to close, almost gone to the world, before he jerks back up, startling Miguel whose eyes were just as heavy.

“Papá, can you sing the night-night song?” Daniel pleads.

A soft breath escapes your nose as you watch Miguel blink his eyes open and comply.

“But you have to go to sleep after this, bub.”

Daniel promises to do so as Miguel starts up a lullaby about a baby that wants to sleep but can’t.

It works on you too, the low drum of his voice holding you in his arms as you held your baby in yours.

Gabriella moved, and as softly as you can, you take his hand to your stomach. With this, she taps softly to his palm.

Miguel smiles sleepily as he watches you take a little breath, the rise and fall of your chest showing that you were in a deep sleep.

He only stops singing when he’s sure all three of you are asleep.

“Jaime, I’ve asked you five times to get up already. Get it together.”

There was only one more hour left before everyone needed to be out of the house or else you’d be late to your appointment.

The lump in the bed only moves a bit before it’s still again.

“Jaime, please. I don’t want to have to pull you out of the bed.”

Today was already starting out all over the place. You woke up sweaty and achy, the heat radiating from your furnace of a husband and your snuggly son was too much. Your ankles felt a little more swollen than usual, and you wanted chewy spicy rice cakes with extra cheese, but the heartburn wouldn’t be worth it.

You sighed as your eldest stayed put. A soft pat to the bed only earned a whine and a wiggle from him.

Looking towards the growing footsteps at the door, your husband was frantic and glaring at his watch as if it cursed him.

“What’s the holdup? We need to be in the car soon and Daniel has to be at school early for a field trip.”

You held your hand out to the bed, face defeated.

“Son.”

Jaime shot up with a wobble to his lips and a scrunch to his face at the tone of Miguel’s voice.

You folded your arms, half concerned, half offended.

“I know you hear your mother asking you to get up.”

“But-“

“Jaime O’Hara.”

The tears start to fall as he shuffles out of bed and goes to the bathroom, his cries pitiful and broken.

He swings the door like he’s about to slam it only to close it softly at the end, the sound of his voice carrying through then hallway.

“Was I too hard on him?” Miguel’s shoulders drop.

“No? I don’t think so. But I think there’s something he’s not telling us.”

“Is there something going on at school? Did we miss an important date?”

The two of you stare at each other as Jaime continues to sob in the bathroom.

“There’s no award ceremonies. He hasn’t said anything strange about his classmates. His birthday isn’t until the end of the year. He does have his game coming up.”

Miguel gasps and runs his had through his hair, “He’s been worrying about his 3-pointers nonstop. He’s probably nervous about it.”

He puts his face in his hand and mumbles through his fingers.

“How could I forget?”

You pat his shoulder, “Don’t worry about that right now. What’s important is that we talk to him. Check up on him, calm him down, explain things to him, and encourage him. Right?”

“Absolutely,” Miguel kisses your temple. “You’re so good at this.”

A snicker follows his statement, “And so are you. Now, can you go stop his crying while I make sure Daniel hasn’t made a mess in the kitchen? He’s too quiet.”

Miguel’s eyebrows shot up again as he realized he left the kindergartner to his own devices. The last time he did that, he walked onto a floor covered in flour and dusty, giggly baby.

“Smart idea.”

“Mm hm.”

Miguel turns and heads towards the bathroom, giving it two knocks before asking to come in.

Jaime takes a deep breath and pushes out a yes.

Miguel opens the door to him crying in the mirror while he puts up his toothbrush. If it were anyone else’s child or baby brother, it could have been funny and dramatic, but Miguel sees himself in the way his entire chest jumps when he breathes in.

He hopes Jaime always feels that home is a safe place to cry and yell, something his own parents never offered him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

He left his frustration with the frantic morning at the doorway and stepped inside. With one hand on the counter and another arm resting on his thigh, he squatted down to Jaime’s level.

His son rubbed his eyes from the inside of his elbow to his arm, “I kept messing up.”

“Messing up what? Your shots?”

Jaime nodded his head, curly hair bouncing along with it.

“At practice, Coach made us do Around-the-worlds and the further from the goal, the more I kept missing. But the game is soon, and I can’t mess up at the game.”

His voice reached its highest point and he bit his lip in order not to cry again.

“Oye, está bien. That’s just practice, mijo. The game isn’t until a few more days. There’s plenty of time for us to get to a court and do some more drills. I know it feels like a lot right now, but we can always work to be better. Understood?”

Jaime nodded his head.

“Can you look at me?”

Jaime pouted as he turned to Miguel.

“I apologize for not giving you the space to explain yourself this morning. I was rushing and I didn’t take the time to check on you. For that, Papá’s sorry. Lo siento, mijo.”

With a calmer demeanor, Jaime forgives him. No whines and no hesitation.

“Still, when you’re feeling like this, you need to communicate, ok? Mamá was there and you could have told her that you were worried. You could have even called for me and I would have come running.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt Mamá.”

Miguel bit the inside of his lip in order to not coo, “I know you didn’t. Would you like to apologize to her like I did to you?”

Jaime collided with Miguel’s chest and wrapped his arms around his neck. He could feel the movement of his head nodding.

“Ok, buddy. Let’s go find her after we get your uniform on.”

Jaime wasn’t budging from his spot so Miguel let him cling off his neck as he got up. One day his eldest might not want to do things like this again, so for now he’ll cherish it.

One blazer, some knaki shorts, and a button down later, Jaime was all ready for school.

“And what do we say when we’re feeling down about ourselves?” Miguel asked as he tucked in the end of Jaime’s belt.

“Nothing can stop me from the path I want to take, not even my doubts.”

“And?”

“O’Hara’s may make mistakes, but O’Hara’s bounce back. O’Hara’s succeed.”

“¡Exactamente!” Miguel patted his back.

“¿Papá?”

“¿Sí, mijo?”

Jaime held his hands up, silently pleading with Miguel.

With an easy tug, his son was in his arms. As tall as he was getting, he was still Miguel’s baby.

In the kitchen, you were leaning over the island as you listened intensely to Daniel talk about types of dinosaurs. You looked up to your son in your husband’s arms and you knew they had a good talk.

Miguel strode up to you and looked at Jaime expectantly.

“I,” he picked at his uniform tie. “I’m sorry for not listening to you this morning Mamá. I was sad but that- that doesn’t mean I was supposed to ignore you.”

Your eyes started to water, “I forgive you, Jaime. I’m glad you were able to figure out what was wrong. Can I give you a kiss?”

“Yes, please.”

With that, you kiss his cheek and place a hand on his head.

“Papá, pick me up too!” Daniel huffs out.

Miguel complies, holding him in his other arm like nothing. You giggle at the three of them, all very similar in some way. Their skin, their hair, their smiles. Your precious, precious boys.

A sharp kick to your stomach causes you to suck in through your teeth.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Miguel asks with a pinch in his brow.

“No, I just think a certain someone wants your attention, too.”

You gently press your stomach to your husband’s, hoping that he could feel Gabriella’s tap dance performance.

“She’s going crazy in there,” you mumble.

Miguel can kind of feel her little feet through his shirt, but really, he was staring at you.

Even as you frowned at your stomach, you were still so beautiful. Your skin was glowing, you were giving him more smiles than ever, and the pregnancy was treating your body right in his eyes.

“Mírame.”

You peer up at him and it’s like a halo appears above your head. He’s quick to slot his lips against yours and hold it, the feeling of warmth settling into his bones.

“Eugh,” Jaime scrunches his face up in disgust.

You pull back and shake your head with a heated face, brought back to reality. Daniel is giggling behind his hands.

Miguel turned to Jaime and bombarded his face with kisses to, leading the 9-year-old to scream bloody murder. You joined Miguel on his attack, not stopping until Jaime waved his white flag.

The two of you looked at each other and then at Daniel simultaneously who squeaked when he saw you grin. Laughter filled the kitchen as the three of you gave Daniel some love.

Mornings were for chaos, but they also brought you together.

By the time Miguel was walking to the car with his kids, it was far past his estimated time.

He turned and looked at you still standing by the kitchen counter.

“Baby, c’mon.”

“But,” you pause, smile growing on your face. “The baby wants to be carried, too.”

You think he’s about to brush the comment off with a sigh but he gives a “One sec” and disappears into the garage with the kids.

You go to gather your purse and your water, checking that all of the lights and appliances are turned off.

“Ok,” Miguel rushes back in and claps his hands, “vamos.”

Three blinks at his wrestler stance and it clicks. You walk to him and your feet leave the ground.

“You’re so silly,”

“Just in love, mi amor.”

The gel was still as cold as ever, you could never really get used to it.

Looking to Miguel, you could see that he could never get used to sitting next to you in these rooms either. His grip on your hand was tight and solid.

The obstetrician slid the transducer on your lower stomach, her eyes sliding over the screen.

Gabriella’s little heartbeat bounced through the room, fast and strong.

Miguel’s grip on your hand loosened as he smiled at the screen.

“Baby girl is looking good,” the doctor says. “Everything is in place and she’s growing perfectly. You both should be proud.”

She paused and looked at you both, specifically at Miguel, “I would be worried about how she big she’s getting at this stage, but I can see why. How tall are you?”

“Uh, 6’9.”

A whistle passes her lips, “Godspeed, Mama. You’ll need it for the next several months.”

“Two boys and my only girl is going to give me a run for my money,” you mumble.

Jaime and Daniel were so tiny when they came out, both of them barely showing at five months. Gabriella is close to being almost twice their size at this rate, and the soreness all over your body was showing it.

At least your husband made time to make you feel good in more ways than one.

“Is there anything that she should look out for? Other than the obvious?” Miguel asks, always the worrier.

“No, I think you guys are good to go. I’ll get you some pictures of the baby and get you checked out. Just keep taking your vitamins, get plenty of water, get those feet up, and stretch as much as you can while you still feel like it. The least stress you have, the better.”

Your stomach is wiped clean and in no time, you’re back in the car trying to decide what to get for lunch.

“I feel like I should have asked more questions,” Miguel’s fingers tapped on the wheel.

“I’m sure you’ll have more that you can call her for later, baby. Right now, I want a milkshake.”

“You need some nourishing food, too.”

“Is that what you want Gabriella?” you ask your stomach. No taps, no spins, no twirls. “What about a milkshake? Chocolate oreo? Extra whip cream?” Gabriella thumps three times.

“My girl is already so smart,” you say to Miguel who scowls.

“Already so spoiled.”

“You love it, though.”

“Mm.”

Miguel swore he would never be like those fathers that only connected to their children through their own expectations of them, and to be fair, he was the complete opposite.

Though seeing him stand at the bottom of the bleachers with a baseball cap, folded arms, and a stern face gave the impression that he was that type of dad.

“¡Ay, eso es faulta!”

“Babe. Maybe let’s let the coach and the referee do their jobs.”

“They don’t know what they’re doing. That was clearly a foul and my son should be holding the ball right now.”

You sighed and continued to chew on your nachos with Daniel who was just happy to be out of the house later than usual. Miguel was about to burn a hole in the gymnasium floor with how stiff he was standing.

Behind him was a family that couldn’t see, leaning around him.

“Miguel, honey, please sit down so everyone can see.”

He sits and folds his hands under his chin. His muscles bulge through his jacket as his legs bounce.

You place a hand on his leg and put a water bottle to his lips. He takes a few sips and focuses back on the game.

“Let’s go, Jaime! Make it count!”

He’s back on his feet again as Jaime gets ready to shoot some free-throws.

Jaime looks at Miguel, a hint of fear in his eyes. Miguel brings his hands up and pushes them down, motioning a deep breath.

“You got this, mijo. Just like we practiced.”

Your son dribbles once, twice, and takes the shot.

The basketball flies through the air and brushes the rim of the basket. It spins and the gym goes quiet. You don’t realize your holding your breath until it comes back when the people behind you stomp on the bleachers.

Jaime looks to Miguel with the brightest face he could muster. Miguel almost springs through the ceiling with how high he jumps.

“That’s my son,” he claps his hands like thunder, chest puffing up. “That’s my son!”

The game continues with Miguel milliseconds from fighting with the official, Jaime looking to Miguel for encouragement, and you smacking the back of his thighs whenever he was standing too much.

When Jaime made the final basket, you were scared Miguel might do a backflip.

Jaime ran to him and jumped in his arms, Miguel spinning him around and laughing with glee.

“I did it, daddy! I did it!”

“¡Eres increíble, mijo! I’m so proud of you.”

“Did you see me, mommy?”

“I did! I couldn’t take my eyes off of you!”

Daniel jumps up and down, “You made the ball go whoosh! And, and, and when it went in everybody screamed!”

Jaime and his brother played together as the gym started to empty out.

“What do you say we celebrate with some pizza?” you ask Miguel as you watch Jaime help Daniel dribble.

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

“And what do you say to carton of cotton candy ice cream after the kids go to bed? Maybe even a soak in the bath?”

Miguel looked to you as you blinked your eyes at him. You slid your hands down his arm and tilted your head.

“You want vanilla wafers too?”

You nod.

“And strawberry syrup?”

“You’re such a good husband.”

You pull him down to kiss him, heart soaring.

“Mamá! Look what I can do!”

“No, Daniel! Don’t jump off that!”

“If I hear that raccoon sing that song one more time, I’m going to lose it,” Miguel bit into a slice of pizza.

You reached across the table to wipe some ranch off of his lips and lick it away.

“I like the song! He’s a little off-key, though.”

Miguel had a grimace on his face, the energy from the building overwhelming. Or perhaps it was Daniel clinging tight to his side whenever the mascot came close to their table.

A couple of kids ran by, running towards the line for laser tag.

You listened to them go over strategies, all very serious coming from them.

“God, I can’t believe he’ll be 10 soon. I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

You poke the straw of your cup in and out, pout on your face. It felt like just yesterday you and Miguel were setting up his nursery.

“I remember him grabbing my finger at the hospital. So strong for someone who couldn’t eat solids yet.”

“Now he’s running around and blooming into this perfect little boy,” you sigh, watching him catapult into a ballpit. You should definitely make him take some vitamins later, just to be sure.

“And this little boy is the sweetest,” Miguel kissed the top of Daniel’s head, who seemed to be pre-occupied with a coloring book you packed.

“And once our little girl is in our arms, it’ll be so special,” you say. “She’s already making an impact.”

“I’m already crazy about her,” Miguel grins.

“And I’m ready for her to come out,” you snicker. “I have a feeling that whatever she’ll do will involve these rapid fire feet.”

“I need to get some new running shoes then,” Miguel replies in all seriousness. Daniel interrupted him with a drawing of a T-rex.

“When she gets here,” Miguel comments in between his praise for Daniel’s skill, “how do you want to celebrate afterwards?”

“I don’t need anything. Just maybe a plate of food I couldn’t eat and a comfy bed.”

“Mamà, c’mon,” Miguel held your hand across the table. “That can be arranged easily. I mean something especially for you for doing something so amazing. It can be anything. I’ll make it happen.”

Your heart sped up, a bit giddy.

“Well the last time we took a trip to an island and,” you panned to Daniel, “we both know how that ended. Maybe the mountains?”

“We can do the mountains. Or just you and your friends if you want.”

Miguel thought about you all bundled up and cozy, enjoying s'mores and wine in a sweater and a blanket. Peak cuddling form.

“That would be very nice. Thank you, Miggy.”

“Of course. Now what do you say to a friendly game of arcade racing?”

“There’s nothing friendly about leaving you in the dust.”

Miguel scoffed and slid Daniel into his arms.

“It’s on.”

As always, if you enjoyed, please like, reblog, and COMMENT! This was very sweet to write!!

[josephquinnswhore]

hiking - joel miller x female reader

summary: as a family, you go on a hike with your daughter.

word count: 1k

content warning: joel wanting to have another baby omlll, NO smut. Fluff!! Dad joel.

a/n: the second photo (of the waterfall) is my own. Do not edit or repost without permission!!!! Took this today while on a hike hehe.

The burning ache in your calves serve as a reminder to you that you’re not the woman you once were. Activities like this, hiking, walking along a perfectly cured tar track was more of an effort than it had ever been. You’d grown a bit slack in your usual adventures, ones that are demanding now; were so simple back then.

Now, there’s the ache in your back that hasn’t left since you’d entered your third trimester years ago, it’s a constant reminder of why you haven’t had a second child after Sarah.

An ache constricts in your chest, pneumonia wracks your lungs, burning and causing strain on your breathing. You carry a small bag on your back, a few water bottles and some snacks for Sarah, not to mention your asthma puffer. Joel had insisted, in case you’d collapse, he was more worried than your mother most days.

He didn’t want you out of the house, his face almost turning white when you’d brought up the idea of going hiking like this, for the first time since Sarah had been born, nonetheless. She was almost three now. He’d been keeping a close eye on you, turning back to make sure you’re okay. Offering that subtle smile, supportive.

The tar track is slippery, bright green moss has grown in between the cracks of the concrete, making it slippery. You’re conscious of it now, making a mental note to watch your step.

“Nearly there darlin’, you’re doin’ great.” Joel praised softly as he stopped, turning back to wait for you, where you linger a few paces back, keeping a mindful eye on Sarah to make sure she didn’t wonder off track. Joel had her though, he did. He was always aware, always scanning for anything that could or might be a threat or hazard to his little girl.

“C’here baby girl. Hold daddies hand.” He’d murmur for the tenth time, his giant hand contorts around her own, and Sarah giggles.

The sight warms your heart, swelling with pride and adoration. This was your family, your husband. You’d picked the right man, you’d known it since you met him.

“Come on mommy!” Sarah fleets with joy and excitement. It’s enough for you to push through the burn on each inhale.

“I’m gonna get ya baby!” You put your hands up, mocking a monster, roaring as you take big stomps towards her as she tries to drag Joel along to run.

“Run daddy, run! Mommy’s a scary monster!” Joel plays along, gasping dramatically as he lets Sarah lead him up the path.

The sound of water is thunderous and distracting, too loud for Sarah to keep up her charade of playing monsters. She tilts her head. “What’s that noise?”

“That’s the waterfall, baby, what we came to see.” Joel explains, pointing to the huge waterfall. It’s hundreds of meters deep, the water is brown, rushing through the rocks down into the pool of stagnant water below, where the water begins to foam. A small family of ducks occupy the water.

Sarah squeals in joy as she sees a peek of the waterfall from her height, the trees obscure her view. “I wanna see! I wanna see more daddy!”

“Just a few more steps baby, then we can get a real good look.” Joel encourages with a big toothy smile, turning to you, ensuring you get the hint that the encouragement was meant for you too.

The lookout is stunning, fenced all around, and safe. You remember the view, from before you fell pregnant. It hadn’t changed a bit. The rain sprinkles down onto you, and Sarah rushes up to see the waterfall.

“Wow. Water!” She exclaims, trying to show Joel. “Look daddy, a bird!”

It’s clear she was in awe of how many animals she’d seen, pointing out every duck, bird and bug she could see.

Lifting Sarah up against your chest, you give her a better view, clear of the obstruction of the fence. One her little body couldn’t yet compromise. “Ain’t that pretty?” You murmur softly to her, pressing a small kiss to her cheek.

“Turn around darlin’.” Joel calls softly, getting your attention, you turn around and Joel’s getting his new phone out. An iPhone he was still learning to use for work.

He fumbled for a second before snapping a family photo of all of you. “We’re gonna have to find room on the wall for this,” he hums.

“Show me that,” you scold lightly, and you grimace once you see the photo. Your cheeks are red and you look sick. You are sick—but that’s besides the point.

Joel knows you’re about to protest, to whinge or huff. “You look beautiful. This is us remaking memories with out little girl. Maybe good enough to have another?” He pries softly.

He’s been bugging you for another baby. You almost give in.

“My backs already killing me,” a simple reminder and he makes a noise of resignation. “But I didn’t say no,” you murmur. The thought of a second baby was on your mind too.

His brown eyes twinkle with hope. He’d have to bring this up later at home.

The rain trickles down a little harder, and Sarah starts to get a little unsettled. It’s cold and wet and the wind is picking up. “Come on baby, let’s walk back to the car.” You offer your hand out for her to hold, and Sarah shakes her head, tears welling up in her brown eyes.

“No! Cuddle!” She demands, holding her arms up for you to pick up her.

“I can’t baby, you know mommy can’t carry you all the way back,” you explain softly.

Joel steps in. He won’t allow you to pick Sarah up while you’re sick, or while your back hurts.

“Daddy will put you up on his shoulders, how’s that sound baby?” Sarah looks up at him and nods, her cheeks and nose are turning red.

He swings her up, and she sits on his shoulders, she clings onto the curls on top his head. Your fingers fumble to find your phone in your jumper pocket, snapping an image, unbeknownst to Joel.

“You gonna make it back?” Joel asked, concern abrupt in his tone.

“I’ll be okay.” You reassure softly. “Let’s get going.”

Maybe—you would do this more often from now on.

[weemietime]

https://www.tumblr.com/weemietime/767670429687152640?source=share

I suppose it was easy for me to fall into the Hamasnik trap due to my habit of black and white thinking, which I wish I could blame on my autism, my ocd, or my horrible mental state, but I’m just incredibly stupid lol. But yeah, I was very much a hamasnik myself.

For some reason my mind refused to accept or recognise the nuance of a history that I wasn't even well versed on in the first place. I also think that the constant reductionism presented to me played a part. There’s a lot of reductionism that goes on within the Hamasnik circles, and it goes hand in hand with anti intellectualism. Statements like “this isn’t complex! How can you see these videos of these Palestinian children (videos that I later found out were actually from Syria, but I couldn’t tell, I just ate it up) and think that Israel/Palestine is complex!”

The whole thing of blocking everyone who has a different opinion or ideology (the ideology in question being Zionism, or at least what hamasniks consider to be Zionism) from you and refusing to follow certain news channels because they’ve shown sympathy for those who have a different ideology from you, refusing to read certain books from authors who have expressed empathy for those same people, all of this together effectively creates an echo chamber of the same opinions and views being regurgitated over and over and over again constantly.

Then sprinkle in constant videos of people dying and blood everywhere, videos that you don’t even know where the people are from, whether they be from Gaza, from Syria, Lebanon, or Yemen, but it doesn’t matter because they speak Arabic so it MUST be about the Gazans specifically according to the Hamasnik group you’re apart of, all of these videos you’re being told to constantly watch over and over again because according to the Hamasnik cult you’re in, “if you look away from the violence even ONCE, you’re complicit in genocide! You’re personally responsible for genocide if you look away! The people in Gaza never get a mental health break or comfort so why should you?”

That very same rhetoric is the reason why a lot of you Jewish people can’t find yourself able to escape on fandom spaces and shit like that, the antisemitism you encounter in spaces you thought you were safe in? Yeah it’s because these people are being told that they have to constantly talk about what’s going on in every single space they’re in and that they can’t look away because if they do, they’re considered complicit in the killing of Gazans so they have to let everyone else know the same.

There are a lot of people who are purposefully antisemitic, don’t get me wrong, this isn’t me excusing anyone. I’m just saying that a number of these people genuinely believe that they’re doing something for the greater good by constantly being antisemitic. They don’t consider themselves antisemitic because the echo chamber they’re in has convinced them that Jewish people aren’t experiencing anything, that Jewish people are fine. That it’s the “big bad” that they’re hurting, not the Jews. It’s the “big and scary Zionists!” At least that’s what happened in my case. Constantly told that if I took a break even once, the blood of the Gazans, the blood of every. single. person in Gaza, would be on my own two hands.

You might not believe me, but when you’ve trapped a person in an echo chamber like that, it’s very easy to convince them that an entire country is evil, that every single Israeli is wicked and corrupt and should die and that anyone who expresses an ounce of empathy for them is a “Zionist” and should die as well.

You could’ve told me anything a few months ago. Absolutely anything bad about Israelis and I would’ve believed you. Because I’d scroll social media and see videos of children dying, people being beaten, buildings being destroyed, everything. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of Israelis doing everyday things, videos of people having fun, videos of people eating, etc, and I found it so unfair that they (according to hamasnik rhetoric) were living in absolute peace while Palestinians are dying right next to them. Then I’d scroll some more and see videos of the IDF (I actually don’t even know if the videos were even of the IDF or not, but as I said, you could’ve told me anything and I’d have believed you. I genuinely believed that it was the IDF) shooting people, beating people, etc. And I was told to look at these videos everyday, every hour, every minute, every second. A lot of the Hamasnik mouthpieces take advantage of the average westerner’s inability to understand Arabic or Hebrew, so there’s a lot of mistranslated videos of Israelis saying they want every Arab dead, a lot of mistranslated Al Jazeera videos of people in Amsterdam for example, saying “يهودي قذر" (dirty Jew) with the wrong captions on and then us non Arabic speaking cult trapped people are none the wiser to what that means because we refuse to engage with any sources that won’t fit our narrative, because we’re complicit in death if we step outside the narrative.

I don’t believe that Zionists should die, but I did. I don’t believe that the hostages should suffer, but I did. I truly believed the worst of things, and perpetuated horrible antisemitism, because I genuinely believed that I was doing good. I found myself justifying unspeakable acts, and saying unspeakable things, things that I would have whole heartedly condemned prior, because I genuinely thought I was doing something right. For example, prior to me falling into that cultish trap, I would’ve wholeheartedly condemned saying a slur coined by David fucking Duke. But after? As I said, I was doing and saying unspeakable things.

I would watch videos from Hamasniks everyday, perpetuate antisemitism everyday, go to sleep and dream about that stuff, and wake up and do it all again, first thing in the morning. A vicious cycle.

And unknowingly somewhere else around the world, some Jewish or Israeli person would wake up, witness antisemitism everyday, witness people wishing the worst upon the hostages, the Jews, the Israelis, the Zionists, everyday, go to sleep terrified for what’s happening to their people, and wake up and see it all again first thing in the morning. Another vicious cycle.

I wish I had a better answer for you, I do. An answer that’s more digestible and less disturbing. I wish I could undo everything that I’ve said and done to the people I’ve hurt whether that be in real life or online. I truly am sorry, and I wish that an apology would fix everything, but it won’t. I wish that all the pain I inflicted on all the Jewish people and Israeli people could be taken away and that I would feel that pain tenfold.

If it’s any consolation or solace, I hate myself more than any of you combined. There is nobody who hates me more than me at this current moment in time and I absolutely do deserve every ounce of pain inflicted upon me, whether it be mental or physical. If you wish death upon me, just know that I do agree with you, but unfortunately previous attempts have failed.

I deleted all of my old posts from that period of time to avoid people getting hurt by them anymore, but I think I’ve done too much damage for me to be a good ally, so I just say nothing now, but I truly do wish the best for all of you and I wish that all of this would stop and that the hostages will be found, hopefully alive.

My apologies for writing a whole Bible in your asks, I truly didn’t mean to.

TLDR - reductionism and anti-intellectualism combined with trapping yourself in an echo chamber of regurgitated rhetoric and constantly regurgitating said rhetoric is a quick way to find yourself dabbling in extremism.

To avoid falling into a trap such as this, avoid generalisations of races, ethnic groups, and the like, look for nuance, try hear people out even when you don’t understand them, instead of blocking them (this is in reference to me blocking every single person who opposed my hamasnik ideology at the time. You should probably block hamasniks, they tend to harass Jewish people a lot), and remember that if someone tells you that a whole war isn’t complex, they’re lying. It absolutely is.

I hope you've been able to see the other responses your other ask has gotten as well! Truly, you aren't someone who I hate. Personally, I do forgive you. Other people may not, and that's their right. But I know first-hand what it's like to be radicalized and to not only commit to extreme rhetoric but also extreme actions. I've learned to have compassion for myself, and I hope that with time you will undergo a similar process.

Someone else said it, "you can't hate yourself into being a better person." All of us, as beings, grow with love and kindness. War is hard it's horrific, and hellish. You're constantly exposed to this violent imagery, this extreme rhetoric, and your whole friend groups are getting in on it. I understand exactly how it happens, and I do have sympathy for it.

To me, the most important part of your story isn't the worst shit you've ever done. It's this part. The part where you learn how to be better, and so you do better, and reach out across the divides and bridge those gaps that have formed. That is a very human story.

[meo-eiru]

I kinda like the small yet big detail in the game, like I'm sure myself and some other people were expecting a wholesome dating sim that would also get quite spicy (FROM HOW WE KNOW MERU)

And we all just kinda got kicked in the butt, like Starling being too hot to be true yet so terrifying at the same time, but not the terrifying kind that we know, like Micah or Silas etc

More like the type that makes you forget that he still is more a siren than a merman, like he successfully managed to lure in the whole community with his hot ass😭😭and then we get backstabbed by him munching our fingers off as if they're some carrots, like as a simple lunch snack-💀💀

Or in the other ending where it's basically simply Mae dying and getting turned into a possession and probably just another body to fill up with tongues

From my interpretation, Starling doesn't really have that kind of romantic interest in Mae, but she kinda thought it could go into that direction, but then got stabbed in the back like that😭😭(probs everyone who played it, thought like Mae there too kinda💀so we all got the betrayal🙁)

And you guys did a really good job in simply catching us all off guard in most scenes, it's it's beautifully written and drawn, I love that game so much!!!

Spoilers for the game

Honestly maybe Sel would give a different answer but I do think Starling likes Maelyn. Due to his past and what he has now become his way of showing it is probably different, but for Starling I don't think Maelyn is just another body for storing tongues. If that was the case he wouldn't have went out of his way to clean her body up, find a wedding dress and "marry" her in his own makeshift way.

He probably didn't even view it as a betrayal. Because until the very end Starling was making sure the no longer breathing Maelyn could be comfortable in her pearl necklace.

For the writing style, probably Sel writing the story played a big part in this.

Sel and I have very similar tastes in a lot of things, on levels I myself can't believe sometimes. But we do have a different style at how we depict similar concepts.

I love presenting dark stories on a silver platter. Prettied up with the most delicious icings and shiniest sprinkles. I like my stories and characters to look beautiful. Enjoy them while thinking you're just having whimsy adventures only to realize you're done for once you truly look. Like Silas. It's easy to make fun of him, forget the things he is capable of doing as you're too busy enjoying his silliness. He feels safe, a gentle giant who loves and takes care of you.

But he's still a man who has forced himself on you not only physically but also mentally. Trapped and limited you beyond belief. No electricity, no internet, no contact with anyone other than him. Only talking to him, only feeling him, only knowing him, only consuming him. A beautiful and sweet man no human mind can handle for more than a few weeks.

But Sel, from what I've seen, is a bit different. She doesn't shy away from showing the darkness and scariness of the stories she makes. Before you even know it you'll be facing concepts you didn't think could be possible.

And not only that, she hides so much under every word she uses. Often times the things she places in front of you are not even the scariest parts. The more you read and the more you decipher they get deeper.

I'm frankly a big fan of the things she writes. They often leave me flabbergasted (and mortified, she knows what I mean) but they are also so so fun. So scary yet beautifully poetic.

I know she doesn't like being under the spotlight that much. But ever since I met her and saw her stories I wanted more people to get the chance to see and appreciate them the way they deserved. I think they are truly special, and they make me want to do my best to illustrate them in the perfect way possible.

Honestly I'm not sure if I'm good enough at it, but if it helps the stories reach more people I'm happy with it.

I don't know if she'll read this post so that's why I'm being sappy like this but I genuinely hope you guys like her stories like I do. And I hope both you and I can see more and more of it.

[sapphicmsmarvel]

feysand: getting together

feyre and rhysand discover the beauty of triad-bonds. no smut, all fluff, a sprinkle of angst.

buckle in we got a long ride (3K but hey this is long for me)

- It was interesting how you three got together. 

- Of course Rhysand initially thought that he and Feyre got together first out of the three of you.  

- No. You and Feyre lost your virginities together, and had your first kisses together. 

- She calls you her first love, always has. 

-Rhysand has always found you interesting, you were an angel compared to Nesta and Elain. When Feyre had come back to the mortal lands, you were the only one to look at her with relief. He could practically taste it as you brought her into your arms and cried into her hair. 

“Oh, my love. Whose ass am I kicking?” 

He didn’t miss the nickname, nor the way Feyre glowed after you called her that. Or how you never left her side. 

It was the first time he had heard Feyre giggle. 

So he knew right then and there he was going to protect you no matter what. That opinion was solidified when you welcomed them in with open arms, no questions. Then, you snapped at Nesta on their behalf. 

He remembers when he asked you why you let them in so easily. You had shrugged and said, “Feyre trusts you. I trust you.”

It was…interesting to say the least. If he wasn’t so smitten with Feyre he’ll admit that he could fall for you. 

-One night, after the war, after Cassian and Nestas' mating ceremony and baby Nyx’s birth; the two of them laid in bed with the babe cuddled into Feyre’s chest. He asked the question he had been dying to ask. “Were you and Y/N ever….?” 

She looked at him as if she was nervous, “yes.” She whispered, her voice small. “Is that a problem?”

“No!” Rhysand whispered fervently. Quietly enough to not wake Nyx, but loud enough that it showed how much he meant it. “I’ve always had a feeling.” 

She sighed, tears brimming her eyes, “gods these stupid hormones.” 

He wiped her tears. “I’m not mad.” 

“I know. But…” she shook her head. “It’s really scary.” 

“We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“No, I want to. But I also want to show memories, so you can….understand why I don’t ever want her to leave my life.” 

“I mean, I don’t know her nearly as well, yet I don’t want her to leave my life either. She’s….” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, and if Feyre didn’t feel the exact same way, she might’ve nailed his dick to the wall.  

“Yeah.” She sighed. “She has a way of captivating people.” 

He felt her brush against his shields, and he opened up to her. 

“We met when we were five years old. Around age six, I declared I was going to marry her. Everyone laughed at me, but when I told her that she just smiled and said, ‘I want to marry you too’. Of course, we were six years old, we didn’t know any better. All throughout our childhood we shared a bond, I thought my entire life she was my soulmate.” 

As Feyre spoke, Rhysand saw her weave the tale of you two. 

“Then, I fell for Tamlin, and then you. I wouldn’t trade you for anyone. But she’s always stayed in my heart. When we went back to the village to see my sisters, I was more nervous to see her. Nesta and Elain rejected me my entire life, she was the one person that never did. I don't know what I would’ve done if she looked at me like that. Like I was a monster.”  

He then felt the happiness that Feyre felt that day when you took her into your arms. He could feel the tears that hit Feyres neck as you cried. Your perfume seemed to have a mind of its own and weave around her. He was in Feyre’s head, he wasn’t sure if he ever wanted to leave this embrace. 

As the night went on, she shared more memories of the two of you. He could feel his heart glowing as he saw you two laugh and grow together. 

- When Feyre was gone, you had found him in the backyard of the townhouse. He was drinking a glass of fae wine. You sat down next to him. 

“You know Feyre would call me a sap for being worried about her.” You started. 

He could almost laugh at that. It fits. “She’d also probably hit you.” 

“Oh yeah, maybe with her shoe?” He whipped his head to you. 

“She tells me everything, Rhysand.” You quirked an eyebrow. “Everything. Which is why I’m not storming into the spring court. I know what she needs to do.” 

“What?” 

“She told me about it. When it was happening.” You said. “When that bastard brought us in, she spoke in my head. Told me about it and that I needed to trust you guys. So I did.” “I’m sorry, that you three got brought into this.” 

You shrugged, “you would’ve seen me around anyway. Fey and I can’t stay away from each other. At least this way our friendship will last longer.” 

He huffed a laugh, amazed at your positivity. “I’m surprised you’re this positive about it.” 

You shrugged, “I just got her back, I’m not losing her again.” 

“Yeah. I can relate to that.” He said quietly. 

- After that night, he looked after you more. You helped out in the kitchen, you cleaned too even though you were requested not to. You can’t just sit around. You even talked to Rhysand about getting a job. 

- You two also hung out together, you either talked or just sat quietly. He found that you were one of those people that made it extremely easy to talk to you about anything. He felt safe with you immediately, which should’ve rang off more warning bells than it did. 

- You were accepting this life, because rejecting it would just result in a big spiral that you refused to go down. You’ve been down a depression rut before, you know when the signs are coming so you made yourself useful around the townhouse. 

- After Feyre came back from the Spring Court; you welcomed her again with open arms. Held her while her own sisters turned her away. 

Nesta had shoved you away because to her it seemed you were taking Feyre’s side. You weren’t. You loved all of them so much, you just wanted a bit of normalcy even though you knew it would never be normal again.

Him, Feyre and the entire Inner Circle heard that screaming match between you and Nesta. 

“And you’re acting like everything’s fine!”

“If I do not act, I will fall apart. This is our lives now. It sucks, the change fucking sucks but you know what could suck more? Feyre being dead. I know you like to act all cold and heartless because it’s some fucking defense mechanism-“

“Do not psychoanalyze me Y/N.” 

“My defense mechanism is trying to make the most out of things! I’m sorry I'm not like you Nesta; I always wish I would be. It would be a lot less painful than feeling every-fucking-thing.” 

Nesta was silent and you continued. “I love you, I would do anything to protect you, to help you. But I cannot be pulled between the three of you.”

“So you’re choosing Feyre? Acting like this is normal?”

“I am choosing me.” You said. “I am choosing to deal with things. This is my life now and I will be damned if I waste one more second on hating myself ever again.” 

Nesta had left the room, storming past the inner circle and walking out. Feyre quickly ran upstairs, her mate hot on her trail. Everyone else remained downstairs in case you didn’t want an audience. Hell, Cassian tried to pull Rhysand away from checking on you. But Rhysand had shrugged him off. 

You’d grown on Rhys quite a bit. 

When they got upstairs, Feyre crept in, “Sometimes.” You breathed, “I want to punch that bitch in the face.” 

“Y/N-” Feyre started. 

“I love her, so much, Fey. But my Gods-” You choked out. “I am just trying to keep it all together.” 

“I know.” Feyre nodded, “that’s what you do. You make sure we’re all okay, but you don’t prioritize yourself. That’s what you’ve always done, but please do not put us before you this time.” Feyre’s voice was wobbly as she turned you into her shoulder. 

That’s where you broke down, and Rhysand made himself scarce. But not before seeing that look in his mates eyes. The same look she had when she found him during his nightmare. 

The face of someone watching the love of their life break down. 

-Eventually things between you and Nesta got better, “they always do” you had reassured Rhysand when he was talking to you about it. Feyre even agreed, “things always work out with Y/N. She doesn’t let stuff be unsaid.” 

- That’s why when he started fumbling around you like a schoolgirl, he realized pretty quickly what was going on. He knew that if you got a whiff about it, it would be endless misery. Not only would he lose Feyre, his entire family would turn on him. He knew what he was feeling too. It was the same thing he felt about Feyre when he first met her, intrigue. And then, it became so much more. 

The mating bond was beginning to snap. But a trio bond? Cause he still very much was bonded to Feyre. He had never heard of a trio bond in his particular area of the world. He knew couples took on consorts or occasional thirds. He even joked about that with Fey. 

Hell, this entire inner turmoil he’s had to keep from shouting down the bond. He wants to talk to her because she’s his best friend but how do you tell your wife you think you’re also fated to be with her best friend? 

So he began countless research methods. Just wondering if it was a thing at all. Or if they were about to rewrite history. However, he found that while it wasn’t common, it did happen. So, he began a folder compiling research, putting things together to show Feyre everything he’s found. 

- Pretty soon he was able to grow a pair and tell her. He walked into their home, first he checked on his beloved son to see him sleeping in his crib. Then found Feyre in their bedroom. He walked up to Feyre too, ready to confess, when she looked at him extremely nervous. “I wanna try something.” She started. “I…I love you. So fucking much Rhys. But….I was wondering if we could add Y/N to the mix. I’ve felt this pull and I can’t explain it. And it’s really scaring me right now.” 

He felt like he was going to collapse. He then realized he didn’t say anything when Feyre started crying, “please say something.” 

“I…I’ve felt the pull too.” He held out the folder, “that’s actually what I want to talk to you about.” 

So they stayed up quite late, going over the logistics, how they still felt about each other (spoiler: disgustingly in love still), and how they would feel adding you. 

- They wanted you more than anything. 

- So, despite Feyre telling Rhysand “no my love, she’s not going to like subtle ways here. She needs direct.” He still went subtle. 

- She just let him do whatever. Even though she knew damn well you don’t like gray areas, you need point blank black and white. 

- She knew not intervening sooner would bite her in the ass, especially when you stormed into the art studio fuming. But she did enjoy the beautiful blush on your cheeks. She also found your angry eyes disgustingly attractive like she always has. 

You threw your bag over in a chair. “You need to tell your husband to stop flirting with me.” You hissed to her. 

Feyre raised a brow, “tell him yourself.” 

You looked shocked. Feyre quickly realized that this wasn’t the time for a blunt best friend role. Especially when she knew her husband had feelings for her best friend. “Fey! You can’t be okay with this!” 

She sighed, “can you just stay here, please? I’m going to get him here and we’re going to get this figured out.” 

You sighed and waited. When Rhysand came strolling in all breezy, he froze like he was terrified. “Uh, hello my two favorite beautiful ladies-”

“See!” You yelled. “He doesn’t stop.” 

“And he’s not going to.” Feyre sighed, “we have something to talk to you about.” 

She was glad she could read your face so well after all these years still. Let’s just hope there were more years of friendship, and possibly more. 

She also didn't know how to be around the bush with you. “You know the mating bond?” 

You nodded, so she continued. “Since a few months ago, both Rhys and I-” she looked at her husband. “We’ve felt…a pull to you.” 

You just stared. Rhysand continued. “The pull is the beginning of the mating bond.” Then he noticed that you weren’t reacting. 

“Why aren’t you surprised?” Rhysand asked. 

“She already knows.” Feyre said. 

You said nothing, and Feyre continued. “You knew and didn’t say anything?” 

“You didn’t say anything for a few months.” You said weakly. “When did you know?” 

“The second I came out of that cauldron. I felt it then.” 

Rhysand felt his own heart shatter, Feyre could feel her own shatter then as well. You waited years. Rhysand didn’t even wait that long knowing that it was Feyre. He waited a good six months but not years. Feyre didn’t wait at all, she jumped his bones. 

Feyre jumped back, shocked. “You knew for years? Why didn’t you-”

“What could I have said, Fey?!” You yelled. “That I’m 90 percent sure that I’m meant to be with you and your husband? Doesn’t help the fact that-” You cut yourself off, you were bordering on hysterics. 

“The fact that what?” Rhysand said softly. “You two make it horrifically easy to fall in love with you.” You said, your tears finally cresting over your waterline and flowing down your cheeks. “I tried. I tried not to. Because I didn’t know if the cauldron was just cruel and gave me two mates I could never have. I knew it was possible for people to reject their mates so I accepted I was destined for that.” 

You sniffed, “my gods, why don’t you just put me out of my misery and reject it right now. I’ll leave Velaris, I’ll leave you alone.”

Feyre was crying. “You don’t deserve to be rejected.” “Well, you wouldn't think that if you knew the thoughts I had about your literal husband but okay Fey.” 

“If you were a random woman, that’s when I’d care. But you’re you-”

“And your best friend. It’s a cliche ass trope.” You wiped your face. 

“And you are my mate!” She shouted. “You are destined to be mine, to be Rhysand’s, to be ours!” 

You looked at Rhysand, “you’ve been silent. What are you thinking?” 

“How lucky I am to have two beautiful women be mine. If you’ll have me.” He said, his voice was quiet and hoarse, as if he was terrified that if he spoke too loud, he’d spook you and you’d run. 

You let out a broken sob, Feyre and Rhysand ran to hold you. 

“We would be honored if you became our mate.” Feyre said, her forehead pressed against your temple. 

“When I first met you,” Rhys began, his chin resting on your head. His hands clasped around Feyre’s back on your left side, he was on your right. “I saw how happy you made Feyre. But then when she was gone, you kept me from losing it on…well everyone.” He admitted. 

“We had only had a few conversations.” You said. 

“Shhh, I’m confessing.” He teased, then he heard you snort a laugh. “When Feyre and you first reunited. I saw how happy she was, how she felt so safe. I vowed right then that I would protect you to keep that smile on her face. But once I got to know you, I realized I would protect you in general. You made me feel so at ease. I felt the peace that I knew Feyre must feel when she talks to you. You are strong, you are sweet, you are the most welcoming person I have met in my lifetime. You had every right to react poorly to us, instead, you took us in simply because we were with Feyre. You never looked at us like you were superior, or that we were your superior. Just equals sharing a space.” He held you two tighter. 

“You could’ve ignored us completely, or been rude. But instead, you unabashedly asked Azriel and Cassian to help you cook because if we were going to stay we had to do work.” His shoulders shook with restrained laughter. He heard Feyre giggling and even you let out a wet laugh. “I realized you were a gem too many times to count. Especially when I fell asleep on the couch and not only did I have my guard up, but you covered me with a blanket so I wouldn’t get cold. Most would’ve ignored me. Then at the meeting with the other High Lords, you snapped at Tamlin and told him to ‘shut the fuck up’ and to ‘fuck off and die’. It was a magnificent thing to witness. You didn't care that he could’ve killed you with a single strike. Which, not going to lie, kind of worries me for your health in the future.” 

All three of you laughed at that. 

“You say we are easy to fall in love with, but you have no idea how magnetic you are.” He said. “I always wanted you and Feyre closest to me, at first I thought it was because you were her best friend, and you were becoming mine. But then…then I started to fall for you. Before I felt the tug. I fell for you because of this kindness, this bravery, the strength. It’s everything to me and if you give me the chance I will spend the rest of our lives proving how I am worthy of you and Feyre. The mating bond was just a bonus.” 

You sniffled again, but he felt your arms pull from where they were wrapped around your own waist. And spoke. 

“I have a condition.”

“Name it.” Feyre whispered . 

“I get to have sex with you both at separate times and together. Basically, we fuck alone and together. I’m not doing this territorial fae bullshit if one of you is actually not okay with it. We are all equal and we can solo fuck each other.” 

Rhysand let out a loud, boisterous laugh, “that’s not what I was expecting, but absolutely.” All of you laughed again.

“I want dates too.” 

“Always.” Feyre said. 

“And gifts.” You said jokingly.

“Duh.” Rhysand said seriously. 

 But then you untangled yourself from the huddle and went to your bag that you had thrown down when you stormed into Feyre’s art studio. 

Rhysand couldn’t help the pout and Feyre whined at the loss of contact. 

You said nothing, but pulled out an orange and began peeling it. “Seriously? You’re snacking after that?” Rhysand exclaimed. 

“Rhys, wait.” Feyre said, tears in her eyes. Her hand on his arm. 

You offered it to them, “I don’t have time to prepare something right now, and frankly I’m not patient enough.”

They just stared at your open palms. “I accept.” 

- Thus the frenzy began.

[luvvyouforever]

headcanons: marriage and domesticity with acotar characters ♡

↳ includes rhysand, feyre, azriel, cassian, morrigan, lucien, tamlin, and amren. unfortunately, those are the only characters i know well enough to write for but more will come in the future!

↳ fluff to the max and then more fluff. children, pregnancy, marriage, family, home dynamics.

rhysand:

-strives to have a very welcoming, comforting home. buys luxurious throw pillows from stories in velaris even though you scold him for each one he adds to his already huge collection. he just wants every surface to feel comfortable so he also buys the best mattresses and couches and will spend hours in a store picking them.

-loves to have an occasional meal cooked entirely by your family. he puts on a silly apron and dances around the kitchen, sprinkling spices willy-nilly. "accidentally" gets food on your cheek which he will happily kiss away.

-feels so proud to have his own family that loves each other unconditionally and would do anything to protect that. you and your kids are the most important thing to him and he could be a very scary person if he ever feels that you're being threatened. is much more careful in his day-to-day life because he knows that there are people who wait on him to come home.

feyre:

-if you were pregnant, feyre would be as caring as she could be. she'd wait on you hand and foot and massage anything that hurt. she'd find you the best calming and soothing lotions for your tummy. every so often, she'd lay on your tummy and tell your kid all the the great things they'll be born into.

-feyre's paintings all over the house :(( she has a little art studio which is constantly messy but you proudly hang everything she does in special little spots everywhere. she loooooves doing portraits of you and the two of you together.

-her life is already very grand so she loves nothing more than having a peaceful night indoors with you. she holds out for the weekends when you can sleep in, cuddle all day, and read together. she makes the best teas and surprises you with them on cozy sunday mornings!

azriel:

-his home is immaculate, cleaned spotless, and a little minimalist. if this isn't your style, he will gladly give you the ability to decorate the space as long as it's clean. azriel scrubbing the kitchen in bright latex gloves is not a rare sight. he just likes the comfort it brings him after the gory things he does for his job.

-he gets you the prettiest, most personalized engagement ring ever. he listens to you so closely and is so attentive that he knew exactly what you would like. he had it designed by a jeweler in velaris and it's probably engraved with something incredibly sentimental.

-he loves matching clothes in the privacy of his home! like matching silk pajama sets? yes please! listen, i've said it before and i'll say it again, azriel lives for the fancier things in life and he just wants to share that with you! he encourages you to wear the same soft and comfortable pajama pants that he is.

cassian:

-destroys the house with his kids! makes a big mess while playing with them. like pillow fights and paints and water and intense acting with toys. you continuously scold him for it and he always cleans up all nice but he can't help it! he just wants to give his kids the most fun childhood ever.

-would lose his SHIT if his kids had wings oh my god. wants to show them how to fly and take them on flights above beautiful landscapes. is probably the dad to push the kid into the water to get them used to it and this applies to flying. "it's just how illyrians learn, baby!" "he's not even a full illyrian!"

-his house is colorful and full of memories everywhere. pictures of the inner circle, of you, of the kids, anyone. keeps anything his kids make him. keeps any gift you give him. tapes notes and invitations to the fridge. he's just so sentimental like that!

morrigan:

-cried like a baby at your wedding. no matter if you walked down the aisle or if she did, she was crying instantly. rhys nudged her shoulder and cassian and azriel laughed at her afterward but you only smiled at her and helped her touch up her makeup!

-is a little hesitant to begin a family. it's more to do with her past and her family than anything else. she doesn't want to give anyone that power over her. if you are really excited about starting a family, she would certainly hear you out and if it did happen, she'd be the best mother ever.

-comes home to you with gifts every day. you keep telling her you don't need them but you gotta let her spoil you! one day it is a new ring that perfectly matches the stone in your engagement ring and that you should totally put on your right hand pointer finger because it would look best!

lucien:

-would totally thrive with a big family. like he would know everyone's interests, what they're up to, their friends, their food preferences, everything. gives them all equal attention and can wrangle them all together with expertise.

-i feel like he really loves showers and baths with you. like unless he was super stinky or unless you were gone, he would just not shower unless it was with you. he loves the intimacy and the closeness it brings!! and he loves washing your hair for you or brushing it or braiding it for you!

-one of his hobbies is mixology! i can't explain it but just imagine lucien having this home bar cart with all kinds of syrups and fancy alcohols and he cares about the dates on them and pairs the perfect wine with his meals! you can give him any three words that'll describe the drink you want and he'll mix it all up and it will taste amazing!

tamlin:

-GIRL DAD! imagine him taking her out to buy dresses for anything she needs, putting little flowers in her ear when they go on walks together, doing tea parties with her. tell me you don't see this. i dare you.

-usually gets up pretty early to go and do his high lord duties but he will come and check on you throughout the day, giving you kisses and treats and notes! he always wants to spend meals with you and will stop anything he's doing if alis tells him that you're ready to eat lunch! you've never seen a man set the table faster and pat the seat next to him.

-any room in the house that you want will be yours! if you want one of the guest bedrooms to be turned into a craft studio, done. if you want a section of the library dedicated to romance books, done! i'm serious when i say he'd give you anything you want to make sure his home is just as comfy for you as it is for him.

amren:

-values alone time just as much as she values time with you. she likes when the two of you can spend time inside doing your own thing but then can come back together at night and talk about your days! she's not ashamed to ask if she can spend the night in her bed because she's had a long day! but she's always reassuring you that it has nothing to do with you so you don't worry!

-probably isn't a very big kid enjoyer but wouldn't mind adopting someone older! or, even better, a cat! amren would spoil the hell out of a cat that you raise together. "am, i don't think she needs another sweater. she doesn't like wearing them anyway." "but this one says be paw-sitive!"

-people don't believe you when you talk about how soft and sweet amren is when you're at home! they don't think that she's capable of hugging you tight and covering you in kisses but she is! she's a private gal and you respect that entirely! but you also can't help telling mor about all of the sweet things she whispers to you as you're falling asleep.

[adoresia]

── .✦ 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐔𝐋𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐒

⌗ PAIRING : Yuji Itadori x Blackfem!Reader

⌗ SYNOPSIS : Yuji Itadori has a brilliant idea: sneak off campus for a “stress-free” day of fun. The problem? His version of sneaky involves flailing like a bird, tripping over rocks, and nearly concussing himself twice. Somehow, you still agree to go with him because he’s charming, stupidly cute, and you might be a little in love with him.

⌗ CW : Fluff, humor with a sprinkle of chaos, Minor injuries (Yuji being clumsy as usual), Slight rule-breaking (sneaking off campus), Heavy doses of secondhand embarrassment, suggestive (One intense makeout session at the end)

⌗ Sia here ! : based off of this request 😚 thank you so much for requesting anon i hope you enjoy :3

It started, like most things with Yuji, absolute chaos and impulsivity.

You had been sitting on the training field, bored per usual, flipping through a textbook while Yuji lay sprawled out in the grass, fiddling with a twig zoned out and in his own world, you could say. His restless energy was almost contagious, and you could feel him gearing up to say something impulsive—his knee was bouncing, his fingers twitching. It’s like you could tell he was going to say something silly, but he’s literally yuji. Everything that comes out of his mouth is silly to be honest.

You were staring at him intensively, trying to figure out what he was going to blurt out, but it’s he’s always unpredictable and his twisted face wasn’t helping. It felt like hours went by before he finally opened his mouth to blurt out :

“Let’s sneak out!”

You blinked at him. “I beg your finest?”

Is he silly? What did you even expect from him at this point.

“Let’s sneak off campus!” He sat up like he just figured out the cure to cancer, the twig discarded in favor ultimately snapping him out of his zoned out state. “C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t wanna get out of here for a bit. Just you and me—no Gojo, no missions, no… I dunno, scary cursed wombs or whatever.”

You deadpanned. “Should I slap you? So we can both get caught? I’d rather follow the rules then have Gojo sensei peaking at us with his 6 eyes for the rest of my life.”

“Rules,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “Rules are for, like, boring people. Are you boring?”

“Should I slap you times 2?” you shot back, offended.

“I’m gonna take that as a no for my own safety.” He said reluctantly while he hopped to his feet and pulled you up with him. “I promise you’ll live, let’s go cmon.”

“No, I actually won’t. We’ll get caught and it’ll most likely be because of you not gonna lie.”

“Okay not I’m offended I’m actually really stealthy if I do say so myself. We won’t get caught if we’re sneaky,” Yuji said, and the mischievous twinkle in his eye told you he was already planning the heist of the century. “Think about it: fresh air, food that doesn’t taste like Gojo’s questionable cooking experiments, freedom.”

You crossed your arms, trying to look unimpressed. “And how do you think we’re getting past Gojo?”

“I’ll think of something,” he said confidently. “He’s probably watching an 4 hour long mukbang compilation or annoying Nanami—his guard’ll be down!”

To be honest it did convince you to an extent, Gojo could watch those compliations for hours on end, not even one of his 6 eyes could divert his attention. Which gave you both time to go and come back without him even realising.

You sighed, shaking your head. “And why exactly should I go along with this?”

Yuji paused, then stepped closer, his grin softening into something a little more persuasive. “Because I want to spend time with you,” he said, his voice warm and sincere. “Just us. No interruptions, no stress. You deserve that, y’know?”

Your resolve wavered instantly. He always knew exactly what to say to get you to drop your guard, and you hated how good he was at it.

“You’re such a manipulator,” you grumbled, though your lips twitched with a reluctant smile.

“Not manipulator—genius,” he corrected, pulling you toward the school gates before you could change your mind.

“Wait, you don’t even have a plan yet!” you protested, digging your heels in.

“Details, details,” Yuji said, brushing it off. “We’ll figure it out as we go!”

The plan was simple: sneak past Gojo’s barely-there supervision, hop the school wall, and spend a rare afternoon of freedom exploring the city. But nothing with Yuji Itadori was ever simple.

Thirty minutes later, you were crouched behind a bush, watching Yuji attempt to sneak past Gojo’s vaguely occupied form. He had, of course, decided that flailing like a bird was an acceptable stealth tactic, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing as he tripped over a random rock, landing face-first in the grass.

You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle the laugh bubbling up, your shoulders shaking with the effort. Yuji popped his head up, blades of grass stuck in his hair, and shot you an exaggerated glare.

“You’re not helping,” he hissed, his voice somewhere between a whisper and a whine.

“Sorry but what are you even doing, you look like those inflatable tube men placed in front of gas stations,” you whispered back, biting your lip to keep from cackling outright.

“First of all, it was a hawk,” he corrected, brushing himself off as he crouched again. “Second of all, you could show a little support for your partner in crime, y’know! Im signaling stealth!”

“That’s not stealth, Yuji. That’s a mating dance.” You deadpanned.

“I really don’t know how we haven’t got caught because of you yet,” you muttered, shaking your head as he resumed his ridiculous flailing.

Somehow—maybe because Gojo was too busy scrolling through mukbang videos on his phone to care—you both managed to make it past the gates. As soon as you were clear, Yuji grabbed your hand and took off running, pulling you along like an excited kid.

“See?” he said, grinning over his shoulder. “Flawless execution.”

“Bro thinks he’s yeat.” you replied, rolling your eyes.

“Would you prefer if I started screaming fein?,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Enough.” You rolled your eyes again.

You rolled your eyes and darted across the courtyard, leaving him behind. His dramatic gasp of betrayal carried all the way to the gate.

Step two: jump the wall.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Yuji whispered nervously, glancing over his shoulder like Gojo might materialize out of thin air. “What if—”

“You’re a jujutsu sorcerer, Yuji,” you teased. “And also, this was your idea. What did you make this decision unconsciously? Or are you just scared of a wall?”

“I’m scared of Gojo.”

Fair.

Still, you hopped onto the wall with practiced ease, sitting on the edge to look down at him. Yuji hesitated for a moment before launching himself up with impressive force—and smacking his forehead against the top of the wall.

You burst into laughter so loud it almost echoed across campus.

“Ow! Don’t laugh!” He held his head dramatically, pretending to stagger. “I think I’m seeing the afterlife!”

“Get up here, you idiot.” You reached down to grab his hand and pulled him up. For a moment, you both perched precariously on the wall, faces inches apart. Yuji smiled at you—soft, goofy, and heart-melting. But also half concussed.

Then he promptly lost his balance and fell, unsurprisingly.

You gasped as Yuji disappeared from sight, a loud thud and an even louder groan echoing from the other side of the wall.

“Yuji!” You peeked over, half-panicked but mostly exasperated, only to find him sprawled on the ground, arms and legs splayed like a starfish.

He cracked one eye open, grinning weakly. “I’m okay!”

“You fell,” you said, staring at him incredulously.

“Did it look cool?”

“No, it didn’t.”

He sat up, rubbing the back of his head with a sheepish laugh. “Well, that’s disappointing. I thought for sure the landing would redeem me.”

“Redeem you?” you said, hopping down much more gracefully. “Brother, you hit your head twice today. Do you even have a brain left?”

“Bold of you to assume there was much to begin with,” he quipped, flashing you that dumb, lopsided grin that somehow managed to melt your frustration every time.

You offered your hand, hauling him to his feet. “If you die from being clumsy, I’m never letting you live it down.”

He dusted himself off, still smiling. “Good thing I have you to keep me alive, huh?”

You sighed, shaking your head but smiling despite yourself. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Aw, you think I’m cute?” His grin widened, and he puffed out his chest dramatically. “Admit it, you can’t resist me.”

“I take it back. I can resist just fine,” you shot back, starting to walk down the path. “But if you trip again, I’m leaving you behind.”

“Harsh,” he muttered, jogging to catch up with you.

As the two of you made your way down the hill, Yuji slipped his hand into yours again, lacing your fingers together. You glanced at him, eyebrows raised, and he shrugged with a cheeky grin.

“For balance,” he said.

“Yeah okay Yuji, just say you’re scared,” you replied, but you didn’t let go.

After Yuji’s not-so-graceful landing, you spent the next few hours wandering the city. You hit a record shop, shared a crepe at a food stand, and found yourselves laughing until your sides hurt in a Photo Booth.

“Why do my eyes look like that?” Yuji asked, squinting at one of the printed photos.

“What do you mean? They always look like that.”

“I look like I’m about to swallow you with my eyes?”

“Okay that’s an exaggeration. You look like a goldfish at most.”

“Like a very cute goldfish,” you teased, poking his cheek.

He puffed it out dramatically. “Well, you look like—”

“I know you don’t have much brain left, but think twice before you say something that might end up in you loosing your head,” you warned, narrowing your eyes.

“An angel,” he finished, grinning sheepishly.

Eventually, you found a quiet park, the golden glow of the setting sun painting the sky. The laughter had faded into something softer, more intimate, as you sat side by side on the swings.

Yuji was quiet for a moment before glancing at you. “Hey…”

“Hm?”

“I’m glad we did this.” His voice was sincere, and his eyes sparkled in the warm light. “I know it’s risky, but… I just wanted some time with you. Like, normal, everyday time. No curses, no missions. Just us.”

Your chest tightened at the sweetness in his words. “Me too, Yuji. Maybe we should break the rules more often.”

“Yeah?” He answered, his eyes were filled with something more desired than love.

He smiled, his hand brushing against yours on the swing chain. The touch sent a pleasant shiver up your spine, and when you turned to look at him, you could see the hint of nervousness in his expression.

“Can I—uh…” He scratched the back of his neck, the tips of his ears pink.

You leaned over and kissed him, cutting off his adorable stammering.

The first press of your lips was gentle, tentative. But when Yuji’s hands found your waist, pulling you closer, the kiss deepened. He kissed you like he had been waiting forever, like every moment he had spent apart from you led up to this. His lips were soft but insistent, moving with an intoxicating rhythm that left you breathless.

Your fingers tangled in his pink hair, and he made a small sound against your mouth—a mix of surprise and eagerness that made your heart race.

“Is this okay?” he murmured, his forehead resting against yours for a brief pause.

“More than okay,” you whispered, pulling him back in.

The world seemed to fade away as his kisses became more fervent, his grip on your waist tightening like he never wanted to let go. Your back pressed against the cool metal of the swing, his body shielding you from the cooling breeze as his lips trailed along your jawline, then back to your mouth.

“Yuji,” you murmured between kisses, your voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” he asked breathlessly, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. His cheeks were flushed, his smile lopsided and utterly disarming.

“You’re terrible at sneaking out,” you teased, brushing your thumb over his cheek.

He laughed, resting his forehead against yours again. “And yet, totally worth it.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

[hyunluvbug]

show me how to love | four - please forgive me

pairing: hyunjin x afab reader

content warnings: 🔞NSFW!! MDNI!, just some kissing, hickeys, a bit of dry humping 0-0

a/n: lowkey i think this sucks but i have been in a writing slump for MONTHS. so i hope u enjoy otherwise T_T. thanks for reading!

Y/n hasn’t heard a single word from Hyunjin since that night. After their semi big argument, Han took her home and she cried the night away. It has been two days and she has no idea what Hyunjin is thinking. If she knows Hyunjin as well as she knows she does, he is probably running away from his feelings. A habit that he does frequently when confronted with any sort of emotion.

Han has visited her on several occasions but she refuses to talk about it. All she wants to do is curl up on the sofa and drown her sorrows in sad tv shows. She blows her nose as the soft rain patters at her kitchen window. The lights of other apartments are illuminating the dark sky. A soft knock on her door cuts through her thoughts.

Who would be here at this hour? She pushes the warm and cozy blanket off her lap and walks over to the door. She peeks through the peephole to see Hyunjin, he is wearing a dark gray hoodie that is sprinkled with big patches of rain. His black hair is completely soaked and his arms are crossed over his chest. She stands back and hesitates before she unlocks the door and pulls it open. 

Hyunjin looks up at her and she avoids his eyes. His eyes look past her to see her tv playing "The Notebook" and her coffee table covered in tissues. “What are you doing here?” Hyunjin does not say anything and walks right past her. She shuts the door and turns to see him standing by the sofa. 

“I am really sorry for how I acted.” Hyunjin mumbles and she looks up to him. His eyes are clouded with something she has never seen before. She didn’t know why but it made her heart rate pick up. “I shouldn’t have run away like that. I think it just scared me.”

“What scared you? My feelings?” she asks and he looks down at his hands anxiously.

 “Not yours, mine.” 

She processes his words and tries her best to not stare at him. She has never seen him look so sad and lost in his own thoughts.

“I think it’s time I stop lying to myself.” Hyunjin sits down on the sofa and she sits beside him. “I don’t know why I feel like this. I just don’t want to disappoint you.” 

“You could never disappoint me Hyunjin.” She looks at him with a small smile and he nods slowly. She sighs softly and Hyunjin’s hand finds its way to hers. He turns to her to look her in the eyes, “ I am so sorry Y/n. You didn’t deserve how I just up and left. It’s so hard for me to share my feelings. Even with you. The last thing I want to do is ruin our friendship.” 

“Our friendship could never be ruined. We’re Hyunjin and Y/n. The dynamic duo.” She teases to lighten the mood. The last thing she wanted to hear was Hyunjin friend zoning her. Their argument before had hurt enough. 

“Just let me finish.” he picks up both her hands and rubs the back of her palms. “When you told me you loved me, I got scared. Scared absolutely shitless. I have never truly been with someone let alone love someone. But, I know that I do love you Y/n. It fucking terrifies me how much I could love a person.” Hyunjin sniffles, tears are beginning to cloud his vision. “I wanna be with you but I don’t know how to do this.”

“Hyunjin.” She places her hands on his cheeks and he leans into her touch. “I love you. I love you so much and I want nothing more than to be the person that you are in love with. I know it is scary. But we are in this together.” She smiles at him. Her fingers wipe away his tears and he pulls her closer to him. She falls into his chest and he wraps his arms around her into a hug. They both are silent as they embrace each other's warmth. 

Hyunjin pulls away and puts his hands on her cheek, “Can I kiss you?” She nods eagerly and his soft lips meet hers. It is beyond what either of them could have imagined. Their lips fit as if they were made for each other. She feels Hyunjin’s tongue lick the bottom of her lip and she opens her mouth. She feels him groan against her, she positions herself so she is in his lap. 

She continues kissing him and his hands run up the back of her thighs to rest on her ass. Their kisses become more sloppy and their breaths are ragged. Hyunjin pulls away some to look up at her, "I love seeing you on top of me."

She smiles down at him and he brings his lips to her neck. He begins to leave kisses up and down her neck. Her hips move slowly down onto him causing him to groan. " And to think we were just friends." she laughs to herself.

Hyunjin pulls away from her neck, "Just friends? Does Han make you feel hot and bothered like this?" He smirks and then puts his lips back on her neck. He begins to suck down to leave a hickey behind, she lets out a small moan. His tongue licks over the mark and then he pulls away. His eyes are hooded as he looks up at her.

"I can't wait to see the look on your face when I'm actually inside you." Hyunjin smiles and she looks at him in shock. "But that day is not tonight."

She hits his chest playfully, "You're such a tease." she groans and gets off his lap. He starts to laugh, "It's been a long night, I want to take my time with you."

Hyunjin gets up off the couch but she grabs his hand. "You know you can stay right?" she says and he sits back down. "I was waiting for the invitation." He jokes and she sighs.

"Just stay. Please." She begs, the last thing she wants is to be away from him again. Especially after finding out he loves her too. Hyunjin sits back comfortably into the couch and she cuddles up into his side. "I'm not going anywhere." He leans down and places a kiss on her cheek. She smiles up at him and she feels safe for the first time in a while.

[eddiesghxst]

PRICE OF FAME (PART 3/12)

ALRIGHTY HERE WE GO !!

————

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: rockstar!eddie x journalist!reader

summary: eddie and gareth don't get along and eddie thinks you look cute when you're sleeping

contains: enemies to lovers trope, smoking, alcohol use, maybe gareth's a bitch lol, scary feelings, a sprinkle of fluff, and eddie being down bad in every way, shape, and form <3

word count: 5.3k

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| series masterlist | -main masterlist- |

Breakfast has been your favorite part of joining Corroded Coffin on tour. Aside from the fluffy, soft, sweet pancakes, grease-dripping bacon, and toe-curling orgasmic coffee, breakfast has always been lighthearted and fun. Richie makes everybody sit at the table together like a family so there can be some sense of normalcy throughout the busy days; it’s nice.

You alternate with your seating, wanting to get to know all of the crew members as best as you can while you have the time, and you’ve had decent conversations amongst some awkward ones. On the first day, you sat next to Mitch, the light coordinator, and listened to his story about how he met his husband. They’re expecting a baby this fall, and you two bounced a few names off each other for him to consider. On the second day, you sat beside Kaylee, the tour stylist, and talked about your college horror stories. On the third day, you sat next to Brandon, a stage manager, and spoke about… well, you don’t really remember because he talked the entire time, and you kind of blanked out. Slowly, you’ve made your way around the table each day, learning little things about the group.

Today, however, there is not the usual lighthearted and familial atmosphere at the table.

You came down to the breakfast hall a bit late from your shower, and the second you stepped into the room, you could sense the tension still hanging from yesterday. You haven’t spoken to or seen Eddie since he confronted Gareth at the studio, and you’re not sure if he’d even want to see you, but you have no choice but to take the only open seat next to him.

You quietly say good morning to everyone, and Richie is the only one who gives you a warm response. “How’d you sleep, birdie?” He questions around a mouthful of eggs. You nod and settle in, “Good, I almost slept through my alarm.” You jokingly admit. Richie chuckles, “1500 thread count sheets will do that to you.” He says, causing the table to erupt in a soft symphony of laughter.

It falls awkwardly silent, and you try your best to avoid glancing at Gareth, but there’s no doubt everybody notices the shiner he’s sporting on his eye. The room is filled with sounds of forks clanking against plates and the quiet mumble of short, faint snippets of conversation until Richie clears his throat, “We’ve got an interview with the press at twelve and rehearsals at three, like always, so do what you need to do before then. We can’t be late for this interview, got it?” He reminds the crew, and everybody’s head nods in understanding, all but one.

“I’m not going.”

All eyes turn to Gareth, a full plate sitting untouched before him as he slumps back in his seat. Beside you, Eddie lights a cigarette, and you opt to busy yourself with taking a bite of your French toast, practically feeling the anger radiating from Eddie as he takes a drag. Richie clears his throat once again, scooting closer to the table and tilting his head with a look of confusion, “Um… why not?” He questions.

Gareth glances at him as best as he can with his black eye, “Because I’ve got an eye the size of a tennis ball on my face, Richie.” Everyone at the table seems to uncomfortably shift now that the elephant in the room has been addressed. Eddie doesn’t waste a second to speak up from beside you, “Nothing you didn’t deserve.” For the first time since yesterday, Eddie looks at Gareth and sees the swollen eye he left from yesterday. Eddie doesn’t show a single hint of regret.

The table returns to quietly eating as Gareth ignores Eddie’s comment, “I’m not going.” He reiterates. Richie sighs and rubs the coarse mustache on his face, “You have to go, Gareth. Just put some shades on.” He suggests, returning to his food as if the conversation finished, but Gareth holds up. “I’m not gonna sit there in shades like a fucking idiot, man.”

“Well, you don’t have a choice, son,” Richie snaps, dropping the fork in his plate to look at Gareth. You wish the floor would open up and swallow you whole, and you’re sure you’re not the only person with that wish when you look at the other crew members at the table. “This band has an album coming soon,” he reminds the group, “We don’t have time for rumors and gossip to start circulating; you need to show up as a unit. This isn’t up for debate.”

The conversation could’ve ended there because, quite frankly, it seemed like Gareth was willing to go with it, but Eddie couldn’t let the moment to say something slip, “Just let him go, Rich.” He shrugs. You glance at Eddie, watching as he taps his cigarette ash into his plate, “It’s not like he brings much to the table anyway.”

Across the table, from the corner of your eye, you see Gareth lean forward to glare at Eddie, “The fuck does that mean?” He snaps.

Eddie looks at Gareth for the second time and shrugs, “Means you’re a shit band member, man. Fuckin’ Mitch has done more for this band than you ever have or could’ve done.” He gestures towards Mitch, ignoring when the man slightly cowers in his seat. Gareth looks at Eddie with a stone-cold glare, saying nothing momentarily and letting the thick blanket of silence curl around everyone's neck. He leans forward and points a finger at Eddie, who’s not even looking at him anymore, “Fuck you. You wonder why Chrissy left you for Jason Carver, it’s because you’re a fucking asshole.”

“Jesus Christ, guys–” Jeff tries to interject, but Gareth continues speaking, “At least Jason acknowledges her. That’s more than you ever did.” He jabs. Eddie chuckles, shaking his head before speaking around a cloud of smoke, “You don’t know shit about me and Chrissy.”

Gareth tauntingly laughs, “Nah, she filled me in quite a fuckin’ bit.”

The invisible ticking time bomb seems to have gone off in Eddie’s mind. He stands up from his chair, a loud screeching noise grating everyone's ears as he flicks his cigarette into his plate, “The fuck did you just say?”

“Hey, hey, hey!” Richie interjects, standing up and raising his hands as a gesture to stop. “Enough. Fucking enough,” he glances between the two heated men in annoyance, “I don’t know what’s gotten into you boys, but you need to figure your shit out on your own time.” He snaps. Your hands rest in your lap, anxiously picking at the seam of your jeans, wanting to shrink into your seat because you can’t help but feel as if this is your fault. It was your journal he read anyway; you play some part in the issue, right?

Richie sits back down with an exhaustive huff, picking up his fork to resume eating, but before he picks up a piece of his food, he gestures at the table, “Either sit down and finish your goddamn meal, or fuck off somewhere. Both of you.”

Eddie stands for a moment before deciding to leave without another word.

By the time the press interview rolls around, you’re more anxious than you thought you’d be. Between the time frame of breakfast and now, you had more than enough time to ponder over the messy situation you’ve accidentally created between Gareth and Eddie.

Truthfully, you had no idea that the Chrissy Gareth had mentioned during your conversation was Eddie’s ex-girlfriend Chrissy; hell, you didn’t even know Eddie had an ex-girlfriend named Chrissy until yesterday!

On one of your few sit-downs with Gareth, you ended up discussing his love life, and you took the leap of faith to ask him if he’d ever been in love.

“…There was one girl. Her name was Chrissy; we went to high school together.” 

“You dated?” “No,” Gareth shakes his head, “No, we never dated. But I always had this weird connection with her… like we understood each other in a deeper way.”

You smile in awe of the sweetness behind his words, jotting down little notes in your journal as he speaks. “I always admired her to an extent, but she, uh,” he clears his throat and scratches at his jaw, “she was in another relationship for most of the time I knew her.”

Gareth silently watches as you continue to write. You look up at him when you realize he’s been silent for a while, and you open your mouth to ask what is wrong, but he speaks before you, “Is this um,” he gestures towards your journal, “this bit isn’t going in the final publish, right?” He asks. You tilt your head, a few questions running through your mind, but you brush them off, “Um… well, I suppose I can leave some of it out, yes.”

Gareth nods, shifting in his chair and clearing his throat. “Okay, good. Um… well, anyways,” he begins, “Me and Chrissy didn’t hook up until I went back to Hawkins during our break off from last year's tour.” 

Ultimately, Gareth had explained that Chrissy had recently left a three-year relationship when they’d hooked up. He explained that they crossed paths at a bar, and things took off from there, but he cut it off with her the following morning. He never told you why he cut it off, but you now understand the guilt of betraying his best friend had forced him to do so.

You had no idea that the entire conversation was pertaining to Eddie’s ex; if you had known, you would’ve never written it down. You wouldn’t have even finished the conversation if Gareth had told the whole truth because, quite honestly, you would rather not be in the mix of this disaster. 

You’re disappointed. Upset that Gareth practically used you to get the guilt off his chest. And the truth is, that conversation did little to nothing for Gareth in the long run; he still felt guilty for never telling Eddie, and it’s only gotten worse with the added tension between them now that the secret is out.

Eddie was cold toward you before, but now he’s thicker than the ice in Antarctica. He’s avoiding you at all costs— and maybe he’s just avoiding everybody. Still, you can’t help but take his avoidance personally, especially when you’d thought you were finally reaching some sort of middle ground with him.

You sit off to the side of the stage with the rest of the band’s crew as you watch them take their seats for the press interview. Eddie sits on one end of the table while Gareth sits at the other end, the other two members filling the two seats in between. Gareth had no choice but to cover his black eye with a dark shade of glasses, and it seemed like nobody paid mind to it— typical rockstar wardrobe and all.

The interview was off to a good start, with reporters asking questions about the upcoming album, life on the road, and relatively anything about the music. Near the end, however, is when things seemed to get rocky. The questions became more of a filler than anything important, and boys were evidently tired of answering. It wasn’t until a journalist asked a specific question that things seemed to reach a tipping point.

“There’s been rumors that this album has more love songs than usual. Could you confirm or deny that?” 

The boys look at each other, and Gareth leans forward to respond, but Eddie beats him to it. “There were a few, yeah, but um… They didn’t make the final cut, so maybe next time.” 

The energy vividly shifts amongst the boys; Gareth looks at Eddie and scoffs before leaning back into his chair, clearly throwing in the towel for the rest of the interview. You don’t understand the apparent dispute just now, but you find out when the boys finish the interview and walk into the green room.

“What the fuck, man?” Gareth spits, walking a few paces behind Eddie. “We’re not cutting the song.” His loud voice booms through the room, not caring if anybody will overhear their dispute. 

“I’m not putting a song out that you wrote about my fucking ex-girlfriend, Gareth. Are you out of your fucking mind?” Eddie snaps. 

Richie turns to the band and crew members and motions for them to leave the room, which nobody even bothers to protest, eager to escape any more awkward conversations for the day. Everybody else makes a beeline for the tour bus, planning to fill in the few hours before rehearsal.

You glance back at the room where Eddie and Gareth are bickering, and you bravely choose to sit in the chair outside the doorway. You try not to stick your nose in their business, but they’re arguing loud enough for you to hear snippets either way. The conversation doesn’t last long before Gareth storms out of the room and down the hall, bursting through the doors and out of sight.

You glance back into the room where Eddie stands, fishing out his pack of cigarettes and sparking up. You figure now is better than ever, so you clench your bag strap and stand up, hesitantly stepping into the room. Clearing your throat once you’re a few steps away from Eddie, you watch as he exhales a cloud of smoke. He glances at you and turns away, “What do you want?”

You take one step closer, “I um… I wanted to apologize.” You begin. He looks at you again, brown eyes tired and riddled with pain— and you can’t imagine how much of a whirlwind the past twenty-four hours have been for him. “For what?” He asks, confusion and annoyance laced within his tone.

He’s turned to face you, shiny chains glistening on his hips beneath the building lights. You shake your head, struggling to find the words, because, was this really even your fault?

You obviously can’t apologize for Gareth fucking his ex-girlfriend— you had no part in that— and it’d seem silly to apologize for accidentally dropping your journal. So, what exactly do you apologize for? How do you let him know that you’re sorry this was how he found out, even if it isn’t entirely your fault?

You decide to try and redirect your wording, “I want you to know that I was never going to put that in the final article.” You say.

Eddie scoffs, taking a drag of his cigarette before responding, “And why would I believe that?” He questions. 

He’s gazing at you like the first night you’d met when he was watching you from across the green room and commanding you to leave. You think he has the same intentions now, but Eddie has yet to learn that you’re stubborn.

“Well, for starters, Gareth asked me not to put it in,” you admit. Eddie’s jaw tenses and part of you feels as if you’ve tossed Gareth under the bus, but you had no choice. This was Gareth’s doing, and if you have to tell the ugly truth to save your image, then so be it. “He didn’t tell me why, but I know now. And now that I know the full truth behind that story, I definitely won’t write it in.”

Eddie watches you momentarily, intense eyes burning holes through you before he turns away. He scratches his jaw for a moment, taking a breath before returning to you. Eddie points to you, the burning cigarette hanging between his fingers as he speaks, “You know,” he begins, “somehow, you’ve managed to persuade everyone that you’re some sweet, innocent small-town journalist that just wants to ‘appreciate the artists,’ but that,” he gestures to your bag where he knows your journal is resting, ashes fluttering to the ground with each wave of his hand.

“That proved everything I believed about you.” He says. “People like you are fucking vampires. You suck the life out of people to keep you alive, and it’s fucked up.” He snaps. 

Your face twists in anger, subtly shaking your head as you subconsciously step closer, “Eddie, I didn’t… I didn’t even know she was your ex, and if I did, I would’ve never written about it.” You exclaim, tossing your hands in exasperation. “And I’m sorry you found out the way you did, but you can’t hate me for something someone else did!”

Eddie frustratedly rubs his face, “That’s not the point!” He exclaims. “I read your journal. I saw everything I needed to see to confirm that I was right about everything with you and this fucking article.” He stresses, his loud voice echoing throughout the empty room.

“I'm not here to destroy your life, Eddie!” You snap, voice raising to match the level of his own. Eddie steps closer, towering over you and glaring so intensely into your eyes that you almost cower, “I don’t fucking believe that for a second.” He snaps back.

His chest rises and sinks like a rocky boat beneath his angry breaths, and he’s so close you can smell the cigarettes and mint on his breath. The scent of his cologne wrapping around you and choking you like a snake.

You don’t know how much more patient you can be with Eddie. You don’t know how much more of this back-and-forth you can take before it drives you insane. You want it to end. You want him to understand that you’re not his enemy; you never were.

You can only think of doing one thing: unzipping your bag and reaching in to grab your journal. Eddie watches with a hint of confusion in his eyes as you crack open the journal and start flipping through the pages. “What are you doing?” He asks in annoyance, patience running thin at your silence.

You flip through nearly half of the book before finding the pages you sought. You don’t think twice before ripping them out, not even caring if it destroys the binds of your precious journal. “The fuck are you doing?” Eddie asks again.

You tear each page out and drop the book to the floor, ignoring Eddie’s questions as you shred each torn-out page to pieces. Eddie watches in silent and hidden shock as each pen-soaked strip flutters to the ground, creating a heap of trash between where you both stand.

You tear the last piece and let it fall before looking at Eddie, watching as he gazes at the torn pages. Nearly five pages worth of writing, gone.

“There. It’s gone. Do you believe me now?” 

Eddie says nothing when he drags his gaze up to look at you, shock-ridden across his face. “I’m not who you say I am, Eddie. I’m not here to ruin your life; that was never my intention.”

Eddie stays silent, seemingly lost for words, and even if you want him to say something, your braveness has begun to falter, and you itch to leave the room. You’re strong-willed, but you’re no fucking superwoman, and Eddie has pulled every exhausting breath out of you, and you can’t seem to get a grip because every time you breathe in, all you smell and feel is Eddie.

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

You grab your destroyed journal from the floor, not bothering to try and fix the binding before you shove it back into your bag, and you don’t say another word as you leave the room.

You’ve been writing for hours when you check the clock— twelve thirty-two. The band played a show tonight, but you decided to stay in your hotel to let your ankle rest— you haven’t been taking all the precautions the medic advised you to, so by the time lunch rolled around, you were in an uncomfortable fit of pain. You used your free time by tweaking the draft of your article— adding in new pieces of information and taking out unnecessary notes. You’re about twenty pages in, but by the end of the month, you’ll have compiled it all into ten; but for now, it seems your brain has become a muddled mess of words and ideas. 

You suppose drinking three glasses of wine didn’t help fix that, either. You’re tipsy, teetering on the edge of drunk, and that’s a dangerous place to be when you’re practically working. You don’t even want to think of the past drunken works you’ve made; they’re worse than you’d like to admit.

You sigh, dropping your pen onto the hotel desk, leaning back in your chair, and rubbing your hand down your face in exhaustion. You glance over to the chair you’ve propped up to rest your injured leg, deciding that you should probably ice it since you’ve neglected to do so all day.

You figure you’re done writing for the day anyway, so you put your things in order before grabbing the ice bucket and making your way out of the room to find the ice machine. 

What you don’t expect to find on your journey is a sleepy Eddie sitting in the hallway just a few doors down from yours. Maybe you drank four glasses of wine.

Out of common, drunk courtesy, you redirect your path and limp over to where he sits, arms folded across his chest and head leaned back against the wall with shut eyes.

You gently say his name to grab his attention, but he doesn’t budge. You shuffle closer, calling his name out again, and when that doesn’t work, you gently nudge him with your non-injured foot. His eyes flutter open, blinking away the light sleep from his eyes as he looks at you.

You tilt your head in question and ask, “What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?” 

Eddie shifts in his spot, grunting and glancing at the bucket in your hands. From the looks of it, Eddie is as sober as can be, so you guess he decided to skip out on the after-show festivities they usually partake in. “I um… I lost the key card to my room.” He explains, gesturing to the door across from where he’s seated.

“The band is out for the night, and the lobby’s closed, so…” 

You nod in understanding, glancing around the empty hallway, catching sight of a cleaning lady entering a room down the corridor. And technically, you don’t owe Eddie anything.

You could leave him here in the hallway to spend the night sleeping on the hard ground, and it probably wouldn’t bother him either way because Eddie clearly doesn’t like you, but fuck you feel bad.

You’re not a terrible person. You wouldn’t kick somebody when they’re already down, and Eddie… Eddie is clearly down.

Before you can thoroughly think it over, your liquor-weighted mouth speaks before you can stop yourself, “You could crash in my room for the night.”

Eddie looks at you with the blankest expression he could ever muster and blinks, “Why would I do that?”

God, he’s such a fucking asshole.

You shrug, gently swinging the bucket in your hand and glancing around again, “I don’t know, unless you'd like to sit here all night like a moron, then be my guest.”

Your ankle hurts as you stand and wait for Eddie to make up his mind, and just when you almost decide to throw in the towel and let him fend for himself, Eddie grumbles a short “Fine,” and gets up.

You watch as he reaches down to grab his leather jacket and turns to you, “You can go ahead; I have to get ice for my foot.” You tell him, pointing to your door so he knows where to go.

Eddie glances down at your injured leg and says nothing before he reaches forward and gently takes the bucket from your hands— cold, jewelry-covered fingers brushing up against your warm knuckles and sending shivers up your spine.

He hands you his jacket, and you stand silently, confused by the exchange. Before you can ask what he’s doing, he answers your question, “I’ll get the ice.” And he doesn’t even bother looking at you before turning around and leaving to find the ice machine.

You’re too drunk to figure out what that was about, and your ankle is starting to throb under the pressure of standing, so you walk back to your room clutching his jacket and trying your hardest not to let the familiar scent of Eddie knock you dead.

You leave the door slightly propped open for Eddie and place his jacket on the chair near the desk. In the meantime, you busy yourself with removing your suitcase and clothes you’d haphazardly tossed around from the extra bed where Eddie will be sleeping. You figure you’ll just head to bed once Eddie gets here, so you exchange your jeans and fitted top for shorts and a ratty old He-Man shirt from high school.

You’re setting your previous clothes aside when Eddie steps into the room, a bucket full of ice in one hand with a Coke and chips in the other. You raise an eyebrow, questioning the extra items, and he shrugs as he shuts the door with his foot, “What? The vending machine was right next to the ice, and I was hungry.” He explains as he places the bucket on the desk, making sure to avoid placing it on your work pages. He tries his best not to look at what you’ve written, and you don’t point it out when he clears his throat and diverts his attention to something else. He grabs the wine bottle and shakes it, raising an eyebrow when he realizes it’s less than halfway full, “I take it someone had a good time?”

You roll your eyes, walking over to take the bottle and put it back on the desk. “Not that it’s any of your business.” You respond, turning to grab a ziplock to fill with ice. Eddie takes the bag from you and shoos you away, “Go sit down, I’ll do it.”

Your face twists in confusion, “You’re starting to scare me. Are you gonna kill me?”

Eddie laughs and busies himself with scooping large chunks of ice and dropping them into the open ziplock. “I will if you don’t sit down.” He responds.

You relent and walk over to your bed, sitting at the head of the mattress to lean against the pillows near the headboard, doing your best to shove a pillow beneath your foot lazily. You sit silently, hands folded against your stomach, watching Eddie work.

He’s wearing his usual black jeans, decorated with hanging chains from his waist, and a plain white shirt, hidden muscles flexing beneath the soft cotton. His shoulders are broad yet hidden beneath the thick, curly mane of hair he has. Tattoos litter his arms, a few trickling down to his fingers, and you catch glimpses of his knuckles dripping with drops of water from the ice and— fuck.

There’s no way you’re checking out Eddie Munson, the asshole who’s made your life a living hell these past few weeks. You really can’t handle your liquor.

You panic and grab the TV remote, quickly turning it on to fill the silence. You distract yourself by watching the random sitcom playing until Eddie steps into your view. You must’ve been focused on the show because Eddie seems to have traveled to the restroom to get a towel to wrap around your makeshift ice pack. Your sheets are pulled back, leaving your bare legs on display, and you can’t help but squirm when Eddie stands at the foot of the bed and takes in the sight of you.

He says nothing as he gently lowers the ice onto your ankle. His inked fingers sink into the plush cotton of the towel, and if Eddie weren’t an artist, you bet he could land a job as a hand model. Or maybe you’ve really lost it.

His gaze flickers to catch your wide eyes, and you hold your breath when he speaks, “Is it too cold? Do you need another towel?” He asks. You stutter to answer him, so you shake your head no, eventually sputtering out a response of, “N-no, it’s fine. Thank you.”

Eddie turns to grab his snacks and falls into the other bed with a sigh, cracking open the bag of chips and popping a few into his mouth. You grimace and pull the sheets over your body as you comment, “If you bring ants to my room, I swear to god, Munson, I’ll hunt you down.” 

Eddie chuckles, glancing at you as you shift around and get comfortable in bed, “Not with that broken foot, you won’t.”

You glare at him over the heap of expensive duvets and pillows, “I wonder whose fault that is?” You respond, falling back into bed when you see him roll his eyes. 

Eddie clears his throat after a moment, “Speaking of that,” he begins; you peek over at him once again to watch as he puts the chips aside and grabs the remote to start flicking through channels. “Since we’re off these next four days, you should keep it light on your feet.”

You sarcastically laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re actually concerned for my well-being. This night keeps getting weirder and weirder.” You joke. Eddie pauses his task to glance at you, “No, I just…” You raise an eyebrow, urging him to continue. He rolls his eyes, “I’m not a complete asshole, you know?” He grumbles, turning back to the TV.

You’re snuggled into your sheets now as you watch Eddie flip through the channels, admiring how different features of his face light up under the different colors from the screen. He’s… pretty.

“What do you have planned for your days off?” You question behind a drawn-out yawn. You think you catch a glimpse of a smile on Eddie’s lips, but you can’t see very well in the dim lighting. “My Uncle Wayne is flying in, so… I’m spending time with him,” Eddie explains. You smile, “Your uncle?” 

Eddie nods, and you hum, “That’s nice… Can I meet him?” 

You’re never drinking wine again.

Eddie looks at you as if you’ve asked him the dumbest question on earth, “Why would… why?”

You shrug, “Maybe he’ll help me figure out why you’re such a grump.” You half-heartedly tease. Eddie scoffs, returning to watch the movie he’s landed on, “If you think I’m grumpy, you’re not equipped to meet Wayne.” He comments. And then something remarkable happens.

Eddie smiles to himself.

It’s small and obviously not meant for your eyes, but you see it either way, and it… fuck, it makes you feel things you would’ve never imagined you could for such an asshole of a man. What is going on?

“He can’t be any worse than you.” You joke. Eddie scoffs, “Nah, Wayne takes the cake for grumpiest man alive,” he bids. 

Eddie tells you about Wayne, little memories he remembers that bleed into more memories until, eventually, he’s practically taking a walk down memory road. You go back and forth with him, commenting when you had a similar situation or when Eddie mentioned the same show you loved in high school.

At some point, Eddie’s stories and the low hum of the TV lull you to sleep, and you find yourself lying in cotton candy clouds, sinking into the softness and letting it surround you. 

Eddie’s not sure when you checked out on him, but he figures he’d been talking to himself for a while because you're fast asleep when he looks over at you.

He watches you for a moment and appreciates the way the blue and white hues of the TV dance across your face. Your skin looks soft under the fluorescent lights, and he thinks the steady rise and fall of your breaths is more entertaining than any movie he could’ve landed on. And you’re so pretty— soft and molded to perfection, and Eddie thinks he might like you more like this; when you’re not talking and being the most obnoxious person he’s ever met. Eddie hates the feeling he gets in his chest from just looking at you. 

You’re cute, he thinks.

He shakes his head to free himself from whatever weird feelings are spiraling through his mind, and he turns off the TV, letting the darkness swallow the room.

He’ll just have to worry about his feelings another time, he thinks.

————

part four

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a/n: HII U MADE IT TO THE END, U CAN ALL THANK MY STINK @mmunson86 FOR THE TINY PIECE OF FLUFF, THIS WAS FOR U BAE <3 ANYWAYS, PLS LET ME KNOW HOW U LIKED THIS PART I ALWAYS LOVE TO HEAR UR FEEDBACK, ILY BYE

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cutie lil taglist: @mastermindmiko @whataboutbibi @ryanmxrie @ihatepeanutss @tlclick73 @motherfckerrr @emxxblog @jesssssmaybankk @eddiesguitarskills @bibieddiesgf @chloe-6123 @micheledawn1975 @demxnicprxncess @emma77645 @sidthedollface2 @mvnsonslvt @s-u-t

[wasawattpadkid]

Housewife

Part - 7

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: poly!ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 1

It was the sleepover you never had. Although there was no pillow fights and a little too much Tom Cruise, you had the best time you've had in a while. "God you sound like Billy." Sydney laid back in her bed toying with her hair nervously. "I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be hateful. It's not just scary movies either, you haven't seen any classics?" Tatum snickered throwing her stuffed animal in the air, catching it as it fell back down. "Well you haven't seen any new movies. It's like for the past 6 years you've been locked in grandmas basement."

"Maybe you're right." You sat on the floor organizing your bag. "Do you have any songs or movies you like that your dad or someone else in your family doesn't like?" Sydney asked genuinely curious. You thought about it for a second but your silence answered the question for them. "You've been totally brainwashed babe." Tatum quipped in a way that made you feel a little ashamed. "Y/n there's nothing wrong with liking the things you do, but you should be doing it because you like it and not because someone else does."

"Yeah you need to take notes from Syd here. She is thee feminist. Billy and her have been dating for over a year and she still hasn't slept with him." The brown haired girl looked upset at her friend's honesty. "What'd I say wrong? I wish I could do what you do. I know If I left Stu to his own devices he would just find someone else to help him out." You looked to the floor ready to throw up at a moments notice. That's what this was. You weren't special. Billy took an interest in you because he thought you would put out unlike his girlfriend. "Y/n?"

"I should break up with my boyfriend." You said flatly, all the moisture from your mouth disappeared at the realization. "Huh?" Sydney asked confused by the switch up but Tatum however was your number one cheerleader. "Hell yeah kick that bastard to the curb! What did he do?" Dylan wasn't even that good of a boyfriend back home you weren't sure why he wanted to keep things long distance. This whole discussion though made you want to change some things. "He still lives back home and I just really want to start over now."

You rang up your boyfriend and called it quits. The yelling on the phone was a surprise but Tatum quickly took the phone from you saying something you weren't really sure you were allowed to repeat. Sleeping in a house that wasn't your's was hard especially when you kept thinking about the two men you knew a little too well. Sunday morning was a blur, it consisted of cereal, the news going on about the murders, and school gossip. Eventually you and the girls made it back to Tatum bedroom.

"Hello you must be Y/n." The cop held out his hand for you to shake, which you did. "I'm Dewy." He said. His awkward presence was somehow comforting. "Ew dipshit don't flirt with my friends." Tatum complained making Sydney crack a smile. Red sprinkled his cheeks as he tried to defend himself. "You're fine. It's nice to meet you, Dewy. So you're a cop?" You point to the badge just trying to make conversation. "Here we go." Tatum whispered and Dewy smiled. "I'm actually a deputy." He tapped his badge with pride.

"He's just like Arnold Schwarzenegger... In kindergarten cop." Tatum made fun of him again almost making you crack a smile. "I think it's cool." He looked over at Sydney noticing her quietness. "How are you Syd?" She nodded with a fake smile. "Yesterday was hard so today has to be better." Dewy nodded. "I'm sorry to hear about your grandparents." Tatum's brother looked at you as he spoke. The word "grandparents" made you look up. "Oh um... Thanks." You weren't quite sure what the appropriate response to that was. "I'm going to use the bathroom." You excused yourself leaving the three of them together.

"Why would you bring that up?" Tatum scolded. "What happened to her grandparents?" Sydney asked. Dewy leaned on the door frame looking down the hallway making sure you were out of ear shot. "They committed suicide together. Both of them took a handful of sleeping pills, and she found them." The two girls felt bad hearing the information. Tatum remembered a commotion happening at the house down the street but she never knew what exactly had happened. Just that you moved in shortly after.

You walked back to the bedroom once you dried your face off from the water you threw onto your skin. "Well I've got to get going. Do you girls need anything?" He asked and everyone said no. Dewy left with a wave shutting the door behind him. "Sorry he's not very socially aware." Tatum apologized but you just nodded. "It's fine. Really." They didn't believe you but they dropped the discussion anyhow.

The day went on with Tatum doing your nails and trying on half the clothes you brought over. You offered Sydney to join in but she declined. Later on you and Sydney talked about what books you had read which Tatum was not interested in at all. It was much harder keeping them two entertained than it was with Billy and Stu. There didn't seem to be much common ground between the girls. You slept much easier than the night previous. Maybe you were finally settling in.

"Wake up girls." Tatum's mom beat on the door making everyone but Tatum jump up. You groaned as Sydney went to wake up her friend. You pulled a pair of bell-bottoms from your bag along with an old band shirt. It wasn't what you'd normally wear to school but you didn't have the time nor energy to doll yourself up. "I like the grunge look on you." You felt partially offended by Tatum's compliment because there was nothing "grunge" about your look. The outfit consisted of jeans, a shirt, no makeup, paired with hair you hadn't had the chance to fix.

"You look comfortable." Sydney chirped meaning well. Their back handed compliments made you want to crawl in a hole. You sat down with the girls in the kitchen, quickly eating breakfast before Dewy came to take you to school. You offered to just get your car but Dewy refused saying he was fine to drive. The thought about skipping the day completely had crossed your mind multiple times.

The moment the car stopped at school you said goodbye to your friends. "I've got to go grab some things from my locker I'll catch you at lunch." You didn't give them time to protest. Unfortunately for you Stu was at your locker waiting patiently for your appearance. "Yo Betty Crock- Pants?" You weren't in the mood for either one of their antics. "You look lovely today." He said like a kid with a crush. Stu swayed back and forth on his heels waiting for you to acknowledge his existence. "Did I do something wrong?" You slammed your locker shut making him jump.

"I'll take that as a yes." You turned to walk away but it never did any good with Stu. "I can't fix this if you don't tell me what's wrong." You stopped, looking at him with tears stinging your eyes. "We can't do this Stu." You pulled him to the side out of everyone's way. "You and Billy are my friends." The emphasis on friends made his heart shrink a little. "I would hope so after everything-" He tried to crack a joke to make you laugh but he didn't realize you felt like the joke was on you. "Would you just listen!" You cut him off grabbing the attention of some bystanders. You waited a moment for people to pass by before speaking.

"This cannot happen. Me, you, and Billy, can no longer happen. No more hanging out at my place, no more ambushing me in public bathrooms," He smiled at that not being able to take a single thing seriously. "No more hanging around at my locker. Tatum and Sydney are sweet girls who don't deserve what we did to them. As long as they are in the picture I'm not going to be, understand?" The bottom line was you weren't a plaything and you weren't a homewrecker. Stu however took it the way he wanted to.

"I understand. I'm sorry if we overstepped." You were ready for him to get on one knee and embarrass you into forgiving him. This was a nice change. "Thank you Stu." He smiled. "Will you still hang with us at lunch?" Damnit. "No Stu, I won't. I've got to make new friends. Since day one all I've known is you and Billy. And now that I've gotten to know Sydney and Tatum, I realized I need my own thing." The bell rung ending the conversation prematurely. "See ya Stu."

"Shit, Shit, Shit," Stu repeated the word over and over like a small prayer. He walked the halls quickly finding Billy's first period class. Stu waved like a mad man trying to get his friend's attention through the window. "May I go to the bathroom?" Billy asked already getting up from his seat. "You may Mr. Loomis." The boy wasn't too happy with the sudden distraction. "This better be good." Billy started walking towards the bathroom with Stu in tow.

"Y/n is dropping us." Billy stopped in his tracks at the confession. Calmly he took a breath saving his anger for a secluded spot. He picked of his feet once again heading towards the restroom. Stu was terrified not only of losing you but also of his friends short fuse. The moment the bathroom door was locked he exploded. "What the fuck do you mean?" Billy cursed as he pushed open each stall checking for anyone. "She said it was wrong what we were doing to Tatum and Syd and as long as they were in the picture she wasn't going to be." Billy grabbed Stu's shirt by the collar. "This shit wouldn't have happened if you didn't call Sydney the other night."

He pushed his friend backwards letting Stu's back hit the wall. "How many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it man?" Billy didn't believe him. Stu was always doing something he shouldn't be. "We'll go back to our plan. Do everything exactly the same way just a little later than we hoped." Billy breathed out thinking of how to pull this off. "Syd's mom's anniversary was Saturday."

"You think I don't know that dipshit?" He pointed in Stu's face. Running his hands through his hair he tried to calm down. "Neil killed Casey and Steve on Wednesday night. That's when he told Syd he was leaving town." Stu just nodded along listening to Billy. "With all the publicity of the murders he wasn't able to kill anyone's else so he calls his daughter Friday night."

"How does he know she's with Tatum?" Billy paced back and forth. "Neil's been stalking her because she's his next victim. He sees Syd leave his house with Tatum. Anyway he scares the shit out of his daughter Friday night laying low till Monday. Ghostface will make a guest appearance today to meet Syd. Himbry will have to close shop because of the killer. You'll tell everyone you're throwing a party to celebrate the break. Invite Syd and Tatum since Y/n is such good friends with them now she'll have to go with them."

It was like watching a genius at work. Stu really believed Billy could pull it off. "Neil kills Himbry. They went to school together back in the day it could be old revenge. At the party I'll take care of Tatum first but you'll have to send her to the garage and make sure no one goes with her." Billy looked at Stu waiting for him to promise to do his job. "Yes Sir." Billy looked at his boots piecing together the rest of the puzzle. "Neil kills Tatum after that I show up to apologize for being a shitty boyfriend. I'll take Syd up to your room that's where you'll have to "kill" me. You'll grab Sydney and bring her to the kitchen. We'll reveal everything blow her daddy's brains out and then Syd is the cherry on top of a really fucked up cake."

It was a good plan in Stu's eyes. "Where does that leave Y/n?" Billy smiled "She's going to rescue us. Neil's dead and so is his daughter. We've been stabbed left for dead but poor Y/n comes along and calls the cops helping us live to see another day. All we have to do is hit her hard enough to keep her out for awhile. Which means before I show up late I'll need you to get her alone in a room. I'll show up dressed in black and knock her unconscious. You'll go back to the party and I'll show up fashionably late."

"I could kiss you." Stu said happily throwing out his arms. "Don't make me stab you early." Billy threatened. Stu's smile dropped. "Now I'm going back to class I'll see Syd later today just keep being your bubbly self. You got that?" Stu nodded happy everything was going to work out after all.

"It was just some sick fuck having a laugh." Tatum tried to convince Sydney. "She's right Syd I mean those assholes were running up and down the hallways with masks." Sydney shook her head at you sure of what she saw. "It was him. I know it." You walked down the steps right next to your friends. "From now on you are not to be alone. You pee, I pee." Tatum added. Stu ran up spouting some gibberish giving you and the girls a flower. "Darling, I don't know what you did Sydney but on behalf of the entire student body we say thank you!"

Tatum tapped her boyfriend with the flower. "Stop it Stu." She gritted trying to tone down his behavior. "You know I say," He picked Tatum up throwing her over his shoulder. The very cute display made you advert your eyes. You didn't know why you were upset this is exactly what you asked him to do. But it still somehow felt he was going out of his way to upset you.

"Impromptu party tonight, my house. To celebrate this little scare storm, what do ya say?" You and Sydney kept walking while Stu trailed behind. "Are you serious?" Sydney questioned the insane kid. "Parents are out of town." He smacked Tatum's ass causing her to sqeek with a laugh. "If this little vixen doesn't invite the whole world we'll be fine. Mix in with the gathering, mix in with friends." He sat Tatum down letting her talk to Sydney.

You watched Stu trying hard to convince Sydney to go. "What do you say Syd? I mean Pathos could have it's perks. Y/n's never been to one of Stu's parties." Tatum said dragging you into it. "I don't really have party clothes plus what if the killer is there?" You questioned. "I'll totally protect you. Yo I am so buff, I got you covered girl." Tatum laughed at her boyfriend. Sydney whined not liking the idea at all. "I mean come on Syd. For me? It could be fun." Stu proceeded to kiss Tatum's neck bringing back all too fresh memories. "Okay, whatever." Tatum squealed.

"Nice!" Stu said "Make sure you girls bring some food when you come over." Stu left you and your friends to go run off somewhere. "I think I'm just going to head home for tonight." Sydney piped up. "No way. If I'm going you have to go." You threw your head back with a groan. "I don't even have clothes for a party." Tatum spun around. "Now that I can help with."

You raised your hand in protest. "You're not dressing me up like a prostitute." Sydney smiled knowing exactly how Tatum would've dressed you. "You're no fun." Tatum teased as you walked back to Dewy's car. Sydney looked at the ground while you and Tatum discussed what you'd wear. Something wasn't sitting right with her but she wasn't sure what it was.

(if your name has a line through it Tumblr wouldn't let me tag you.)

Part 8

Taglist: @katie-tibo @agustdeeyaa @bowlofceral @gonnapermashift @tati-the-fangirl @kozumewhore @tatijoestar @illyanam1011 @c4rved-pumpk1n @msghostface @gojosbucket @sammanna @lokigirlszendaya @reneki @fetusharryluvr @kadu-5607 @pumpk1n-writes @lovekeeho @tojisblood @zeysartzone @bluedevilss @life-of-music3 @flyestvenustrap @littleblondesoprano @imobsessedreader @loomiscorpse @nicciekawegosblog @reneemunson @miss-puregotti @ksgsfsgaj @zoleea-exultant

[anantaru]

Hellooooooo

I was wondering how would Alhaitham and Ayato would react to hearing the safe word in the middle of the act? Like they pushed reader's limits, they seem to be pretty rough and demanding in bed and that's kinda scary sometimes

cw. after saying the safe word, a lil angst, fem! reader, heavily comforting you

ayato, who would— and such goes in the generality of standings, without stating, express leaden depicted signs of embodied guiltiness for turning you, his darling, he devotedly treasured, this uncomfortable and hurting during an endearing time where he should've coddled you with a sundry of effusive pleasure.

conceivably, ayato might've fell in to be inordinately rough tonight as he was severely frustrated from his own bottled up emotions— one of the leading factors being the tracked down obvious that he hasn't seen you nor spend sufficient time with you in what felt like plentiful years.

his troubled breath was stranded immovable in his glued down throat upon listening to you suddenly cry out the safe word he was sure would never be used by any of you— to proceed, ayato had directly pulled out of you, the touch cautious, as controlled as possible as to not dispense any more damage before really saying anything, he can barely marge his eyes on you and it broke his heart that he was the reason you experienced pain— when he should've loyally lavaged you with nothing but pure comfort.

supplementary he puts forth your name in a tottery declare and then staggers through his frazzled breathing, "are you okay, please— please take your time." ayato eases himself back into this pivotal situation, but he will not touch you, he keeps his hands away from you. "i apologize with my entire heart— i did not mean for this to happen." as to bring grave attention in his sentence, he closely whispers an inch lower, soothingly, "i am so so sorry."

ayato will wait a fair enough of much required time, additionally giving you copious reasonable space before you, yourself, have allowed him to come close again. His glimmering eyes fall to your bare, trembling body as to calmly throw a silky blanket at your naked frame to have you a sprinkle more shielded and protected as well as have your body heat rise up again.

while you aided him to lean back into your arms, ayato breaks apart from within, bit by bit, his body was stilling and sheened of cold sweat, but it's about patience now— and he knows, he has to keep a clear head as always, he mustn't let his emotions run free.

"it's okay ayato." you close your arms around his neck and it almost brings him to tears— such spoken tears that he originally severed off himself earlier, the same way he had done so his whole life.

"it is not, i should've known better."

family was everything to ayato and you were a part of his. On this ending night he had done nothing more than to spoil you and apologize a handful more times, you let his warm palms seep into your gladdened skin and your eyes flutter close of the heavy tiredness— you realize he was warm but his breathing sounded patched together, even though he tried to hide it endlessly.

alhaitham, whose flexed up muscles loosened up the immediate wounded second of your excruciating voice thickly closing around his ear shells. This uncomfortable weight on his chest, or the penetrating shock in his eyes, he was aware that he unarguably went overboard this night, for certain, and promptly backed off your tremulous body without accidentally creating added problems.

with how he had been largely shadowing over yourself, he could easily perceive the state of your low lidded eyes— your vision had turned entirely blurry which was the straight up cause of warm tears simmering from each twist of your eyes.

"do not rush yourself." not at all did alhaitham appear as confident and collected as he usually was, "i apologize - i apologize, i don't know what—" your hard processed breaths overwhelmingly shook at each explosive word of him, it was demanding for you to state something, taxing on your emotions while at the same time cloaking back your cried which he had fortunately discerned himself, then stopping in midst his own sentencing, yet cursing himself.

it's not as if alhaitham doesn't want to do anything, all he craved for was to enclose his large arms around yourself and apologize once more— though he does nothing, not for now at least, he waits until you do something instead, after all, crossing your boundaries again would be the last thing he had in mind.

"can you-" he noiselessly jolts back when detecting your broken voice in the dim room, you mutely wrap your hand around his wrist, "can you please .." and he knows what you meant, in the wake of it, it wasn't back breaking to see through your quavery ways of stating.

he crumbles next to your body and closes his arm around your waist, your eyes were swelled up and with one gentle palm he shushed away the wetness on your cheeks, but remained careful in his proceedings.

"i'm sorry." you shake your head at his strangled heaves, applying yourself up forward into his chest, "it's okay." - "i know you would never hurt me on purpose."

but even with your presented reassurance, his heart burned, he huffs his warm breath on your forehead and presses his lips on your head, his hands in process of moving unsure on where to wavelessly rest themselves on. "it will never happen again."

he recollects himself, his words holding all meaningful purpose behind them, "i know." you smoother yourself further into him, systematically calming down more and feeling yourself back into his body.

"you're everything."

©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Asking your friends for help when you need it is starting to feel good instead of scary. Even listening to Cat open up doesn't sting like it once did. Bradley starts to have an ominous feeling about his upcoming mission, and when the details are revealed, he's left wondering what his career will be like in the future.

Warnings: Angst, swearing, fluff

Length: 4400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

There was truly something to be said for the way you felt after you talked to Dr. Genevieve. Even though your period was a few days late, and you had been holding out hope, you didn't go quite to pieces when it did end up starting. Sure, there were some tears as you opened up a new box of tampons, but you didn't dwell on it as much as you had the past several cycles in a row. 

In fact, when you thought you couldn't take the physical pain of your cramps and the mental pain as well, you called Maria. You told her that you didn't want to be alone and asked if she could stop by. And she came over with a backpack and some donuts. 

"What's in the bag?" you asked as you bit into a Boston cream. 

"Clothes for tomorrow," she replied, petting Tramp while she ate a chocolate donut with sprinkles. "I figured I could sleep over."

"You don't have to," you whispered, now feeling a little embarrassed. 

But she just shrugged. "I've been a little lonely, too. My new roommate has never been as fun as you were."

"Nobody is," you added, biting into a second donut. You figured you earned it, since you'd started to get back on track with what you were eating. "Thanks for joining me in the cafeteria at work."

"Thanks for actually coming to lunch. Cam is hella boring to eat with every day."

You groaned and headed for the couch with a bottle of wine. "Ugh, I left you hanging with Cam. I'm sorry." You were going to be better about taking care of everything. Yourself, your marriage, Bradley, and your friends. 

Maria just laughed and followed behind you with two glasses and a corkscrew. "I love him, but he's still a dude. And just inherently dumb. He can't help it."

The girl talk ended up spiraling into a great weekend, and when you went to work on Monday morning, you still felt good. And Bickel had been a saint, not acting weird or giving you too much distance at all since you broke down hard in his office. Sure, maybe he was asking you how you were feeling with a little more frequency, but he kept your workload the same and never questioned anything you handed in to him.

And then there was Cat. Since you kind of blew the Jake thing up in her face, she'd been very quiet. Jake was still claiming nothing was going on now, but you'd never have been able to get an answer out of Cat one way or the other. And now you were thinking maybe you should have just minded your own business. Because Jake seemed melancholy, and he hadn't actually ended things himself even after he learned about Uncle Hondo. 

"Good morning," you said to Cat later in the week when you walked into the lab. She seemed surprised you were greeting her.

'Hi," she responded, slipping back into her usual state of calm immediately. "If you're about to ask about the calculation set, I'm almost done. I just need another hour or two."

"No rush," you replied. "Um, actually, I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch today?"

She eyed you skeptically. "In the cafeteria?"

You shrugged. "Or my office?"

When Cat didn't respond right away, you wanted to kick yourself. But then she said, "I feel like you and I just keep getting off to bad start after bad start with each other. I'd like to eat with you, but I don't want to go down to the cafeteria. At all. Just looking at Lieutenant Seresin makes me want to hide."

"Care to elaborate?" you asked cautiously. 

She just smirked. "Sure. Over lunch. In your office."

---------------------------

Bradley had stripped down to his underwear and gym shorts, and he was currently trying his hardest to meditate on his bed. Bob had spent the last several weeks patiently trying to explain to him exactly what went into it, but Bradley would reach a state of calm and then inevitably get distracted. 

He cracked his eyes open to see Bob in a state of complete relaxation on his own bed. Something about this just didn't work as well for him, and his brain was buzzing, so Bradley reached for his notebook instead. There were too many things he wanted to write down. It felt like he wasn't going to be able to stop emptying out all of his feelings now that he started, and after several weeks, the notebook was mostly full. 

The desire to be at home was overwhelming. Thinking about eating homemade Marry Me Rooster with his wife perched on his lap was all that was getting him through this deployment. As soon as he was home, he'd make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him. There were no conditions on his love, and he was embarrassed and crushed that maybe he made you think there were. 

He only had a few more weeks to go. But things with the mission were looking abysmal. Slayer and Charmer were getting worse to deal with by the day, and the way the admirals praised them was beyond ridiculous. Like the shiny, new aviators were somehow better than the ones with more experience. Like Bradley, Nat and Bob couldn't keep up now. It was hard to keep believing that the admirals would actually put the best team together to complete the mission. 

"Wow," Bob suddenly said, stretching his arms over his head and removing his glasses. "That was a great session."

"Yep," Bradley agreed, nodding as he scribbled in the notebook. "Really good, Bob."

But the other man was already pulling the bedding up to his shoulders, and Bradley knew he'd be asleep soon. "Good for you," he muttered, returning to his notebook. 

Nat and Bob were so good to him, this deployment should have been a breeze. And it had improved since he got to talk to you over facetime in the commanding officer's quarters, but he thought he'd go ahead and start a countdown in the notebook anyway. Just eighteen more days until he should be arriving back in San Diego. And he was hoping like hell he would get to call you again before then. 

But a few days later, he still hadn't been selected for another facetime session. And Bob and Nat got called out onto the tarmac after dinner for a repairs inspection that was performed on their Super Hornet. So Bradley headed to the gym for a workout by himself, and the room was thankfully fairly empty. He put in his ear buds and got out his phone. He selected the playlist you made for him last year called This is what a gym playlist should sound like, Bradley and he smiled. 

Pretty soon he was sweating, working his way through some bicep curls, when he saw Slayer out of the corner of his eye. He would ignore him. No problem. Only two weeks left to go. Only a few more days until the mission. "Do not engage," Bradley muttered to himself. 

But of course he couldn't control what Slayer decided to do, and the idiot wandered over toward him. And then he snatched his phone off of the bench, and Bradley was on his feet immediately, still clutching the fifty pound dumbbell in his left hand. 

"What the hell do you want?" Bradley asked, plucking one ear bud out. "It's bad enough I have to see you in the classroom all day."

Slayer just laughed, and Bradley realized he was staring at his lock screen. "Just wanted another look at your wife. How much younger is she, old man? She got a grandpa fetish or something?"

Bradley's fingers tightened around the dumbbell, and he wished he'd given more of an effort to meditating with Bob. 

He was seething. And then Slayer asked him, "You know what? Why don't you just give me her number so I can keep her warm next time you're out of town?"

Bradley had to fight the urge to throw the dumbbell at him. "You talk an awful lot for someone so stupid."

"And you strut around like you own the place for something who can barely fly."

Bradley's blood was boiling now. The admirals had pumped these kids so full of bullshit, there was going to be no arguing with him. Instead he snatched his phone out of Slayer's hand and pocketed it. "And you're slow as shit versus an old man. Now get back to your bunk, it's almost curfew for the children."

Slayer smirked at him as he backed away toward an empty weight bench. "Just wait. You'll see."

--------------------------

You had made it this far, you could make it two more weeks. But you got your period again, right on time. And you knew it was ridiculous to get choked up when you had to get the tampons and pads out again, because Bradley wasn't even home. You hadn't had intercourse since he left six weeks ago. You knew there was no way. But just the idea of knowing another cycle was ending had tears stinging behind your eyes. 

When you heard the doorbell, you quickly washed your hands and rushed out to where Tramp was practically howling at the front door. "Chill out," you told him. "You'll be happy. You loved him last time."

"Hi," Cat said as soon as you opened the door, and you saw Hondo pull away in his green Chevy. Jeremiah was in her arms, and once again, he smiled when he saw you. Things at work were a lot better, including having several nice conversations with Cat.

"Sorry, little guy," you said softly as they came inside. "No Rooster this time."

Cat laughed. "I think your dog will suffice. He loves animals."

When you closed the door, you watched Tramp follow them over to the couch, and then he started licking Jeremiah's little hands nonstop while the baby laughed. "If he's annoying, I can put him out back for a bit."

"No," Cat said as she and her son both laughed. "This is great." And then Jeremiah broke free from her arms and stood with both hands on Tramp. And you swore your dog had never been happier either. 

A little pang of sadness struck your heart as Tramp looked all too delighted at the attention he was being given. You were searching for a safe topic of conversation. Cat had been joining you for lunch on occasion, which was great. But now you found that you had so many friends, you needed to juggle your time with them. Cam and Cat were a little awkward around each other. And Cat wouldn't tell you exactly how she felt about Jake, but you knew Jake was sad and Cat was avoiding him.

So you asked her, "You still feel like hiding from Jake at work?" It seemed like a safe enough topic, and you almost laughed when she covered her face and collapsed dramatically against the arm of the couch. 

"Please! You keep asking me about this!"

"I'm curious by nature," you claimed. "And you never really told me anything."

She glanced at you as Jeremiah went crawling across the floor after Tramp. "I'm still embarrassed that I even kissed him in the first place. Uncle Bernie and I had it out several times about all the push ups, but he was just trying to take care of me. And I know that sounds like an excuse, but... keeping someone like Jake away from me is probably his top priority while Jer and I are living with him."

You tried to keep your composure, because you and Cat seemed to finally be getting along, but you just couldn't understand why she wouldn't give Jake a chance for real. "He's a good guy, Cat. God... I can't even tell you how many times he's helped me out and made me feel safe."

She turned to face you where you sat at the other end of the couch. "He's exactly like my ex husband. A cocky, handsome aviator who is too smart for his own good."

You shrugged and kind of nodded, because that definitely sounded like Jake. "Well whatever your ex did to piss you off, I doubt Jake would be the same. Are you afraid he won't accept Jeremiah?"

She swallowed hard. "I'd rather not even find out where he stands on his opinions about my son. And listen, there's a reason why my ex husband never met Jeremiah. And it's the same reason I never let him know our son's social security number or where we ran off to. I'm sure he has a hunch that I was able to transfer to Top Gun, but Mike is definitely too scared to come sniffing around for more while I'm with Bernie."

You shook your head in confusion. "Come sniffing around for more of what?"

"Money," she said simply, but her jaw was set, and she looked ready for a fight. And you should have probably known all along that there was more than what she had told you over the past few months. You were pretty sure you were the only one who even knew about Jeremiah, besides Bradley and Cam. And if Cat was the type of person who took their time opening up to people, you were surprised that you were the one she was talking to about this.

"He wants your money?" you asked softly. 

Since she borrowed your car, you knew she didn't have one, and she said that she was broke. But your jaw dropped open when she said, "Mike was dishonorably discharged from the navy for showing up to work drunk and drinking while on base. He tanked his own career, and nobody in Annapolis could even look at me the same after that."

"Why would he do that?"

She laughed, but she looked like she was going to cry. "Because I told him I was pregnant."

Jeremiah was laying on his back now while Tramp licked his neck, and he was giggling up a storm. "I'm so confused," you told her. "He didn't want you to get pregnant?"

"Well he told me he would be happy to have kids. But by the time I told him I was pregnant with Jer, he had already opened four credit cards in my name. He had already lost all of our savings. And he knew I was going to find out about all of it as soon as I mentioned us opening a bank account for our unborn child."

"Oh."

When she met your eyes, she shook her head. "He has a gambling addiction." You watched as she wiped at her cheek. "I used to own a beautiful house," she said, glancing around longingly. "I had a car. He and I had money saved. But he managed to lose all of it, plus the credit card advancements in my name. I owe more than half a million dollars in money that I didn't spend. Money that I never saw. And that doesn't include what I've paid to my lawyers. Mike did all of that while I thought we were building a life together."

"Holy shit," you whispered. You felt nauseous just thinking about it. And you were suddenly even more thankful for Bradley.

"So yeah... cocky, headstrong aviators might be my type on paper, but I can't get involved. And I'm sorry I was leading Jake on. But, it's not just him. I can't get serious with anyone when my life is a trainwreck that I will never be able to recover from. I'm going to be spending the rest of my life trying to make sure this doesn't all fall to him," she said, nodding toward where Jeremiah was now crawling back toward the couch with Tramp following right behind him.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I don't know what else to say except that you didn't deserve any of that, and neither did Jeremiah."

She reached down to scoop him up into her arms as he yawned. "Yeah well, I hope you're smarter than me. I hope you had a prenup."

You sat quietly and watched as she kissed Jeremiah's forehead and reached into the diaper bag she brought with her so he could eat some cereal. Cat had been honest with you. She told you months ago that she was jealous of you, and now you knew why. You had all these things that you were taking for granted. 

For some reason, you thought she ought to know that you'd been jealous all along, too. "You still have something so good though. Something I wish I had."

She looked at you like you'd completely lost it while Jeremiah ate some Cheerios. "What? A marriage that ended in shambles and a career that is hanging on by a thread? Or the inability to ever have someone take you seriously in a relationship ever again?"

"No. Jeremiah."

She looked at you, and her face dropped. "Oh." And maybe she realized that meant you and Bradley had been trying unsuccessfully, but you changed the subject before she could ask any questions. 

"But that doesn't matter, really. And you know, there are some things we do have control over here."

"Like what?" she asked, and when you smiled softly, she smiled back.

"Jake. I think you might be surprised by him, Cat. I think he'd be good with Jeremiah."

"No," she replied right away. "I'd rather not even find out. Besides, it's already too late with Jake. Even if he was going to stop sleeping around, it's done. He asked me out at least fifteen times. And I said no at least fifteen times."

"If he asked you out again, would you say yes?"

You jumped several inches when your doorbell rang again, and Tramp ran for the door like he was a professional guard dog. "We didn't even order a pizza yet," you said as you stood. But the closer you got to the door, you thought you knew who it must be, and you answered it anyway.

"Angel," Jake drawled, bending to pet Tramp who immediately turned into a puppy again at the prospect of pets from one of his favorite people. "Just thought maybe you'd want to get dinner and head to the Hard Deck later?"

When you didn't respond right away, Jake pushed the door open wider and let himself inside. Then you watched him freeze up as he saw Cat sitting on your couch with Jeremiah in her arms. "Cat."

She looked absolutely mortified as she stood up, but she had nowhere to go. She was reliant upon Hondo coming back to pick her up, and Jake was staring right at Jeremiah. "Jake," she said so softly, you could barely hear her across the room.

He huffed out a short breath and ran his fingers through his hair, past the scar on his forehead from the last time he was deployed with Bradley. You weren't sure what you should do, but then he simply said, "You have a kid."

Cat's chin was in the air again, and you knew she wouldn't let Jake or anyone else say one negative thing about that child without consequences. "His name is Jeremiah."

"Jeremiah," Jake repeated, and two sets of matching dark eyes were looking right at him before Jeremiah yawned and fell asleep on his mom's chest. "He's adorable."

Cat sank slowly down so she was sitting on the couch once again, and she looked like the fight was gone, almost like she was exhausted now. You nudged Jake in the ribs and then reached for Tramp's leash where it hung near the door. "I'll be right back. Just going to take him out." But nobody was listening to you. Once the leash was clipped on his collar, Tramp pulled you out onto the front porch. You caught one last glimpse of Jake taking up residence in the spot on the couch you'd vacated, and then you closed the door.

You puttered around the yard with Tramp before deciding to just walk him down to the beach and back. But the early spring air was chilly when the wind picked up across the sand, and you wished you'd taken a minute to grab Bradley's sweatshirt from the hook as well. 

Playing a comparison game in your mind would get you nowhere, you knew that. Everything Cat told you was completely fucked up, but she had to know how that Jeremiah was worth it. And you knew that Bradley was enough, even if it was just the two of you. But now you were a little worried about Jake putting his foot in his mouth. 

When you hustled back down your block, shivering as the breeze picked up some more, you saw that Jake's car was still in your driveway. And when you cautiously let yourself back inside with Tramp, you found Cat and Jake sitting very close together on the couch. And Jake was holding Jeremiah while he slept.

-------------------------

Bradley knew it would be a short call. The mission was scheduled for a few days from now, weather depending. But if he was allowed even five minutes with you, he'd take it any day of the week. 

When you answered his facetime call, you were sitting in your office with your lunch in front of you. "Roo!" you gasped, dropping your fork into your burrito bowl. "I miss you!"

"I miss you, too, Sweetheart."

He watched as you turned to someone off screen and said, "Okay, thanks."

"Who are you eating lunch with?"

"Cat," you replied quickly, and he was a little surprised by that answer. "She just stepped out into the hallway so we could talk. Please tell me you'll be home on time, Bradley."

He smiled and said, "Haven't been notified of any changes, so I think so. Please tell me you got plenty of hot sauce in there."

You laughed and tipped your lunch so he could see all of the green hot sauce. "Absolutely. You know how I like it."

"I do," he replied softly as he examined your face. Beautiful. Just gorgeous. And you looked so much happier now. You looked like you'd been sleeping better. 

"I wish I was sharing my lunch with you."

He nodded. "I've been thinking a lot about our dining room. And how it feels so good to hold you on my lap while we eat a meal off of one plate."

You gasped softly. "I've been thinking about that too." When your eyes drifted closed, you added, "And how you wrap your left arm around me and kiss my neck while he eat."

"Baby Girl." His voice was raspy, and he was aching to be with you right now. "We'll do everything." 

But he only had one more minute with you, and he wanted to know how you were doing. When he asked, you said, "I can tell you when you get home. Tell me about the mission."

"I can't say much. Teams get selected tomorrow morning. Flight is weather dependent. You know the drill."

"I do. I just want you to be safe," you told him softly. "Need you to come home."

"I'll be there so soon. I love you."

And after that, he still felt so good as he got to the classroom a few minutes early the next morning. Admiral Dean smirked at him as he took his usual seat, and the room started filling up. Other than the fact that he had to stare at the back of Slayer's head, he was ready to get this mission in the air and get home.

"As you well know," Admiral Dean started, "the final details will not be set in stone until the day of the mission. So we are left with two options, and we need to be clear on both of them. Option A: the two teams will fly in formation and strike the communications tower first before proceeding to the enemy base. This is the preferred option as we would be removing multiple streams of communication first, but we may need to switch to an alternate flight path if they have too many aircrafts in the air. So that brings us to Option B, in which you will strike the base first and then loop around to the communications tower."

Bradley's brain was literally numb from listening to this information over and over again. He understood the importance of what needed to be done, but this was overkill now. When he glanced at Nat, she looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep. Until Dean spoke again.

"If there are no questions, that brings us to team selections. Four aircrafts will be flying this mission. We've chosen the best, and I am already convinced of the success of this mission. The teams will be as follows: Slayer will be paired with Phoenix and Bob."

His heart sank. Shit. That was supposed to be Bradley's pairing. Fucking Slayer. But it probably didn't matter too much if he was flying alongside a different two-seater, just as long as he was in the air with his friends. Really, all four aircrafts were responsible for keeping each other safe, so he wouldn't be too far from them at all. 

"And the second team will be Charmer paired with Terror and Mack."

It took a second to register. But slowly, it seemed like everyone in the room was turning to stare at Bradley. Admiral Dean looked smug. Nat and Bob looked distraught. And Slayer looked damn near delighted. Then Charmer turned to him and laughed. 

And Bradley had the fleeting thought that his career was over. He was the oldest aviator in the room by a few years. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was falling short with proving himself in the air just as he had been messing things up on the ground with you. And that sick, embarrassed feeling in his stomach was there to stay as all those thoughts took up permanent residence in his mind.

-----------------------------

Oh. That stings. That really hurt my feelings. Bradley could fly circles around them. And how do we feel about Jake? Cat? Jeremiah? Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 13

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[onlyforyoukook]

Forbidden Feelings

paring: haechan x fem¡reader

synopsis: college student haechan who has a crush on his best friend mark lee’s sister. whom by the way is COMPLETELY off limits to his friends.

genre: smau

10. OH.. HEY MARK…

your apartment smelled like tomato sauce and melted cheese as chenle wrestled with a ball of dough on the kitchen counter, pretending he knew what he was doing. haechan, lounging on the couch with a can of soda, threw in unhelpful commentary every time chenle’s dough threatened to tear. jisung sat on the floor, scrolling through his phone but still laughing at their antics.

“you’re supposed to knead it, not beat it to death,” haechan teased, smirking.

chenle shot him a glare, flour smudged on his cheek. “oh, and you’re the expert now? last time you tried, your pizza was shaped like a boot.”

you laughed from the other side of the counter, sprinkling cheese onto a half-finished pizza. “at least he’s trying. unlike someone who’s been glued to the couch for an hour.”

haechan grinned lazily, his eyes flicking to you. “hey, i’m moral support. isn’t that enough?”

truthfully, you didn’t mind. haechan had been staying over for a few days now, the two of you still in that uncertain, exciting stage where everything felt new. chenle had started tagging along after you’d met through mutual friends, and his constant third-wheeling jokes had only stopped when you invited jisung over to even out the group.

“what movie are we watching later?” jisung asked, looking up from his phone.

“something scary,” chenle declared, his voice muffled as he shoved his pizza into the oven.

“nope,” you said quickly. “i’m not dealing with you screaming like a banshee in the middle of the night.”

“fine,” chenle said, rolling his eyes. “something funny, then.”

you were about to suggest a movie when there was a knock at the door.

everyone froze.

“who is it?” chenle whispered, his voice barely audible.

you didn’t need to guess. you knew that knock—sharp and impatient. it was mark.

“crap,” you muttered, glancing around. “he can’t know you’re here.”

“he knows i’m here,” jisung said calmly, taking a bite of the pizza crust you’d given him earlier.

“yeah, but he can’t know they’re here,” you hissed, pointing at chenle and haechan.

chenle bolted for the bathroom without a word, while haechan scrambled off the couch, looking genuinely panicked.

“where do i go?” haechan whispered urgently.

“i don’t know! the closet?”

he made a face but dove into the hallway closet anyway, pulling the door shut behind him just as you reached for the front door. you smoothed your hair, plastered on a casual smile, and opened it.

“oh..hey, mark..” you said, trying not to sound nervous.

mark raised an eyebrow, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “what’s going on? it smells like a pizza factory in here.”

“uh, just making dinner,” you said, shrugging.

his eyes swept the room, landing on jisung, who waved casually from the floor. “hey, jisung.”

“hey, mark,” jisung said, completely unfazed.

mark’s gaze lingered on the two extra pairs of shoes by the door—chenle’s bright white sneakers and haechan’s worn-out Vans. his expression didn’t change, but you could tell he noticed.

“so,” he said slowly, “just you and jisung tonight?”

“yep,” you said quickly. “just us.”

mark nodded, walking over to the counter where the leftover pizza toppings were still scattered. he picked up a slice of pepperoni, studying it like it held the answers to the universe.

“you’ve been cleaning?” he asked, glancing toward the hallway.

“yeah, a little,” you said, your voice a little too high-pitched.

mark turned back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. “chenle. haechan. come out.”

the apartment went silent for a beat before the bathroom door creaked open. chenle stepped out, looking like a kid caught stealing cookies. “how did you know?”

“your shoes,” mark said simply, then turned toward the closet. “and you, haechan?”

the closet door opened slowly, revealing a sheepish haechan. “hey..mark.”

mark pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling slowly. “seriously, y/n? i told you—”

“i know,” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “but they’re my friends too, okay? we weren’t doing anything wrong.”

“friends,” mark repeated, looking pointedly at haechan.

“yes, friends,” you said, ignoring the heat creeping up your neck.

mark sighed, glancing between the three boys. “just… don’t make this a regular thing, alright? and haechan & chenle, next time, hide your shoes.”

chenle grinned. “so we’re not banned?”

“don’t push it,” mark muttered, grabbing a slice of pizza before heading for the door. “oh, and haechan? stay out of her closet.”

as the door closed behind him, everyone let out a collective breath of relief.

“well,” chenle said, flopping back onto the couch. “that was fun.”

“fun?” haechan echoed, glaring at him. “i was in a closet.”

you laughed, sinking onto the couch beside him. “you’ll survive. now, who’s ready for a movie?”

the room buzzed with energy again, and just like that, the night was back on track.

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