#cause the word ‘toilet’ is all they hear lol

[moxie-girl]

unexpected downside of being mitsuba for Halloween is that I have to decide split-second whether to tell anyone who asks what my costume’s from that the show is called toilet-bound Hanako-kun

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 3— Fool.

a/n: welcome back to the Be My Baby series! Sorry y'all, I left with some with friends and it went on waaaaay longer than I thought it would lol. I'm gonna break this chapter up into 2 parts so I can get it posted tonight. So an extra chapter will be added!! Chapter 4 will just be the part 2 of this one, and after that it'll be back on schedule. Oh and don't worry— chapter 4 will be out tomorrow btw!! that's where the big boy angst comes on. so y'all are safe until then. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this again, lol. I will later & edit any details that need touching up. Again sorry this is late, but I hope getting part two and the Keira fic tomorrow will make up for it haha.)

content: sick!Reader, caretaker!Leah, straight up no smut (CRAZY I KNOOOOOW), mostly fluff, and some angst.

warnings: talks of not hydrating & eating properly, the flu, A&E/ER, confusion caused by sickness

synopsis: You wake up sick and you call the only person you can think of for help.

word count: 3.0k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

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The sound of your alarm doesn’t jolt you awake this morning. You’re already lying wide awake before it rolls around this time. You’d woken up early and your mind drifted to Leah, your whole situation together, barca, and the inevitable moment when they all come crashing together like a high speed train accident. Is it severely toxic and self destructive? Oh for sure…but who’s gonna stop you?

You stretch out your limbs as you set up in bed, turning off your alarm as you settle back into your own skin. There’s a rolling storm of anxiety filling your gut, and as your feet touch the ground it flies up to your throat. You run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time, emptying out your stomach contents. Which at the moment is just your bile. The sweating must’ve started when you were in bed; because you quickly notice the dampness of your shirt from the temperature drop in the bathroom. The cold tiles seep through Leah’s sweats and chill your body down. You shiver after a few minutes, staying seated on the floor as you take a moment to catch your breath.

You make quick work of going to grab your phone and sending your boss a quick message. As soon as it's sent you make your way to the shower. It's only when you bend down to take your pants off that you realize how sick you truly are. Your vision goes blurry and your head starts floating in and out of dizziness. You slowly lower your body, your hands making contact with the floor as you set yourself down. It's then that the headache starts— like your brain is pounding against your forehead on repeat. It's sharp and never ending, leaving you to crumble down into tears.

You don't have a car, and even if you did— you are in no state to operate a vehicle right now, and you definitely don't feel confident enough to order a taxi like this. So you are left with one option. One you know you're gonna regret when you're not sick and delusional, but it's the one thing your broken mind can think of…You call Leah. You crawl across the tiled floor and get your phone off the counter, dialing her number as you pray she picks up. And of course she does, because by the third ring her voice is greeting you through the speakers. "I knew you couldn't resist me, darling. I've just been wait—"

"Le…" you cut her off with a sob of her nickname. Your head is painfully throbbing now, and your mouth is so dry your throat is scratchy. She can tell just from the small amount of your voice she hears.

"y/n, hey— what's wrong? I'm on my way, alright? I'll be there soon, just stay on the phone with me," Leah's moving before the first word even leaves her mouth. She's leaving her breakfast on the table as she slips mismatching shoes on her feet. Running out of her flat with nothing but her keys and her phone in her hands.

"Something's wrong, Le. I'm sick and I-I..I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call," your voice breaks at the end. It's like a knife plunging into Leah's heart as she hears it; the absolute brokenness of your words. She knows there's a deeper meaning behind your them, but she won't push it. Leah knows any of the girls would come to help you in a heartbeat, so what's got you believing otherwise? Or maybe the better question is, who has you believing otherwise? She'll investigate that later.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're alright, love. Take a deep breath for me, okay? I'll be there before you know it, and we'll get you to the doctor," Leah's voice would normally calm you down, but your brain is still running a million miles per minute…and it's only making you feel worse. It's like you can't focus on a singular thought, and the confusion only fuels your distress. Leah presses down on the gas pedal when she doesn't get a response from you. She can only hear your cries filling up the empty space of her car. She gets to your building in record time, and only then does she realize she didn't bring her wallet.

"God dammit," she chastises herself under her breath, trying to not let you hear her frustration as she searches for a on-street parking spot. She just had to forget you live in a fancy ass building with paid parking, today of all days. "I'm parking now, love. I'll be up in a few minutes." Thankfully she gets one across the street, rummaging through her center console for some change coins. She puts way more than needed in the parking meter, but that's not her main priority right now. "I need you tell me if the door's unlocked, okay? I know you don't feel well, but can you unlock it if it is?"

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath, gathering all your mental strength to answer her. "N-No. There's a key under t-the welcome mat though…I don't think I can walk by myself. I-I'm so sorry, Leah," you can't stop the embarrassment from filling your body. You hate having to ask people for help— especially when you need it the most. It makes you feel weak, helpless, and like a burden. It's a deep seated insecurity you can't seem to shake, but it's not like you've really ever tried to correct it. We all know Leah's stubborn, but you? You can be even worse than her. It's not like you mean to be, but you're just…broken. In more ways than even you would like to admit.

Leah sees right through it though— she always has. She is the one person in your life that sees you for who you are. Not the persona you put up for the rest of the world. You two may of only spent a short time together that year ago, but oh what an impact it made. Spending every waking second with a person for weeks on end does something to a person. You either ending up hating each other, falling in love, or whatever the fuck you two got going on.

"You don't need to be sorry, y/n. You definitely need a better hiding spot for your spare though, that's just bloody awful! You're asking for a break in!" Leah feels herself get a little frustrated as she retrieves your key. Her voice picking up into a scolding tone as she jiggles with your doorknob. You whimper out as you move the phone from your ear, the slight rise in her voice making your head hurt more. "Too loud," you say as she walks into your home. She makes sure to shut the door lightly, before smacking herself in the forehead for raising her voice with you. "I'm sorry, love. I just worry about you. Now which room are you in?"

"My bathroom," your voice sounds so small now. Like a child getting in trouble.

"I'm on my way to you now, okay?" Leah says as she climbs the stairs. Her eyes flit over your walls and she notices the lack of pictures. You have bare hallways and they look so, so lonely. She walks into your bedroom and she sees the void of no decor or really any of your things at all. It makes her sad, but mostly it leaves her wanting to ask more questions. Questions she knows she can't ask right now, but will get the answers to someway.

Nothing could have prepared Leah for what she sees behind the wooden door of your bathroom. You're clad in a mist of sweat, all the color drained from your face, and you're shaking like a leaf. It isn't until she's running up to you and falling to her knees that she sees the extent of your state. Your pants are still sitting halfway down your thighs, and Leah quickly moves to redress you. She makes sure not to look at you inappropriately, only doing what's needed to get you comfortable and less exposed. She knows how vulnerable you are right now, and she's doing everything she can to make sure you're okay. She sheds her Arsenal hoodie off, sliding it over your head as she encourages you to push your arms through.

“Hey love, let’s get you stood up– that’s it.” She helps you get to your feet, letting you lean all your body weight onto her. Leah guides you back towards your bed, sitting you on the edge as she goes to grab a pair of your shoes. It doesn't take her long before she's rejoining you and sliding some slip-ons over your feet. she pats your legs when she's down, looking up to see your disheveled appearance. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," you nod your head along. Talking is only making your headache worse, so you've opted for noises instead.

With that, Leah is helping you back up. But before you can rest your weight back onto her side, she's picking you up bridal style. Your arms instinctively go to wrap around her neck, burying your face in the warmth of her embrace. You don't have the energy to argue with her, and honestly it's a relief to not have to walk right now. She carries you like you weigh nothing, shutting and locking your door like she isn't holding an entire human being. If you didn't feel like death you'd be obsessing over how hot she is, but right now you're just thankful.

You must've fallen asleep, because the next thing you know you're waking up in a A&E bed. You blink a few times to adjust to the lights above you, small groans slipping out as you try to stretch the cramped feeling out of your limbs. Then you hear her softly speaking on the phone across the room, and you go back to lying still. You close your eyes as you focus on trying to hear her conversation. "I know I should've called first, but you didn't see her. She couldn't even stand on her own, and she fell asleep in my arms before we even made it to her building elevator! She's in bad shape, and I'm not just gonna leave her here all alone in a country she doesn't fucking know. I'm the Captain and it's my responsibility to look after everyone— I don't fucking care that she's not a player! She's on our team, our crew, and she deserves our support. Call me back when you get your head out of your ass," and with that she hangs up.

You try and force yourself to just back to sleep and forget everything you've heard, but of course that's not how things work out. Your stomach starts turning again, complicating feelings swirling around with the uneasiness. The tears come falling down your cheeks before your eyes even open, your chest starting to tighten up as the sobs claw at your lungs to get out. It feels like you can't breathe, and honestly maybe you aren't. Not as you see flashbacks of Barca passing through your memory, a wave of dread blanketing over your body.

"What hurts, love? Do I need to get the nurse?" Leah's by your side the second she notices, a hand out grasping your forearm. Her fingers dance little patterns into your skin, and it actually starts to ground you. "Come on, take deep breaths with me again, okay?"

You nod your head, and then she's holding both your hands. You follow her lead as she sucks in a slow breath and holds it, before exhaling just as slow. She repeats the process with you until you're calmed all the way down. It doesn't take too long, but honestly Leah isn't going to leave you anytime soon anyway. "Nothing hurts," you say it so softly she barely hears it. Your eyes stay locked down onto the bed sheets below you, never making any eye contact with her.

"Then why were you crying, y/n?"

"Because I heard you on the phone…and I don't know. I guess I freaked out, and went spiraling into a self hate hole for a second. I'm okay, really."

"oh bloody hell! I'm so sorry you heard that, darling. I should've went into the hall or something—"

"It's okay, Le. I'm just sensitive, and really really delulu from whatever sickness I currently have…plus it was nice to hear you stick up for me, Captain."

"The mystery sickness is indeed just a bad case of the flu…but uhm, the doctor said it was made worse from you being dehydrated and probably not eating enough from the looks of your blood work. I'm not gonna judge you or yell at you. But I am taking you home with me when they discharge you. I'm your official caregiver until you're well enough to take after yourself again," Leah doesn't let go of your hand as she says it. She tries to connect your gazes, but you don't allow it. Actively avoiding her eyes as you feel them burrowing holes into your skull.

You wish you could argue with her and tell her she's wrong…but you can't. You've been skipping out on meals ever since you moved here. It's not been on purpose, you just haven't been able to eat. It's like your body hates the idea of eating, always growing nauseous after every few bites. So you've been drinking some meal replacements…not enough apparently. "Okay."

"…Okay? Really? That was a whole lot easier than I thought it would be," Leah is staring at you with her biggest look of, 'be so for real, bitch' written across her face. But you just shrug as you sink back into the uncomfortable mattress underneath you. You're so mentally and physically wore out right now, there's just no fight left inside you. Right as you're about to re-close your eyes, the doctor finally comes back in. After getting the run down from him, he lets you know that you can be discharged and to pick up your antibiotics before going home. Leah helps you redress again, and this time it has you giggling at the way she makes her eyes go anywhere but at your naked body.

"Hold on…how'd you get the doctor to tell you what was wrong with me before I even woke up? Aren't there some rules against that?"

"…I might have told everyone that you're my fiancé," Leah smiles at you nervously.

"Fuck you, Williamson! Take yourself on that date Thursday!"

"Oh, so you're finally agreeing that it's a date?" Leah smirks at you, only hearing the parts of what she wants to hear.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, now will we?"

She rolls her eyes at you for that, holding her hand out for you to take. And you do, still leaning against her some to walk. She helps you to the car, and once you're both secure she's driving you to your new home for the next few days…or weeks. God you hope only days. It feels weird to be back inside a house with another person, and it's extra fucking weird that it's Leah. You know this stay is when you have to put down some boundaries with her. To stop whatever there is between the two of you. It makes the previous pit in your stomach increase by double, because deep down you know you care about her...you're just lying to yourself about it. You can push every feeling down your throat, but they will all come spilling out at some point. That's what you've learned to be true over the years, but will you accept that as truth? Hell no! At least not anytime soon. Your worst problem is that you always get in your own way.

When she finally gets you inside, Leah starts cooking and letting her mind wonder to think of you. More importantly to the phone call you overheard in the A&E. She'd been talking with her manager, and completely snapped on him. He'd said something about how Leah 'follows you around like a lost puppy' and well…. it hurt her fucking feelings. Of course she isn't doing all of this just because she's one sided sickly in love with you…right? Sure she thinks of you literally every second of the day, and she's been day dreaming of you for the past year, but that's all totally normal...RIGHT?

Leah doesn't get to spiral into her romanic crisis for too long, because before she knows it the timers going off. She drains the gnocchi before putting it in a bowel for you, making her way back to the living room where she left you. She laughs at the sight that greets her— you snuggled up asleep in her Arsenal hoodie she'd given you when she first saw you. Leah just sets the gnocchi aside on the coffee table, opting to cuddle you instead of waking you up. She pulls you onto her body, your face resting on her chest as she tries to adjusts you without waking you up.

She finds herself running her fingers through your hair, and before long they're running softy across the features of your face. Leah lets a deep sigh come out of her chest. She truly feels like a fucking fool. Leah doesn't chase girls— they chase her. So for the first time in this game, she is the one crying. She's clinging onto any crumb of attention you'll give her, and she'll keep doing it for as long as it takes. Leah has you sleeping against her chest once again, and it's nothing like she's day dreamed of. You two aren't confessing your feelings, running around town making memories, or god forbid actually dating…but she'll keep feeling like a fool and waiting on you. She'll keep searching for your love until she finds it, because she knows she's felt flashes of it. She knows that carefree, wild, truly happy girl from Ibiza is still inside of you somewhere. Leah doesn't know what took that extra bright sparkle out of your eyes, but she is determined to see it light up your face back up.

[littlejuicebox]

GINAAA MY GIRL!

Sending you a dadstarion prompt because you already know I LOVEEE your dadstarion content.

How did Tav find out she was pregnant with baby Gale? And how did Astarion react to the news?! Inquiring minds want to know.

To have and to hold.

Such a lovely prompt, my friend! Hope you like it!

Summary: Astarion turned mortal a few months ago, and this is his first-time experiencing illness of any kind. Unfortunately, as soon as he recovers, you start to show signs of sickness as well. Your condition is a bit different from his, though. (For more of this series check out the ‘Dadstarion’ section of my master list.)

Tags/Warnings: Dadstarion, domestic af, fluff, talk of illness, talk of vomiting, the mildest of angst with the mostest of comfort, pregnancy, etc.

A/N: I work in healthcare, not law, so I can’t guarantee the legalese is accurate lol.

Word count: 2.3K

-----

“Don’t come closer, darling, I’m disgusting.” Astarion groans from where you find him one morning, curled up on the bathroom floor.

It had been a few months since Gale of Waterdeep cast Wish, and from that moment until now the retired rogue had been a happy, healthy mortal. There were so many benefits to curing his vampirism that the elf never fully considered one of the major downsides… illness.

He’d never experienced a malady like this in his life. At least not in the one he could remember.

It’s horrible.

How had his little love or any of his friends endured this, more than once, in the past ten years?

Astarion is quite certain he contracted food poisoning from that questionable slab of salmon he ate at the Blushing Mermaid yesterday evening. He never did understand why you liked eating at that lowbrow tavern in the first place.

You crouch to examine your husband, pressing a soothing hand onto his forehead before running it down to cup his cheek.

“Astarion, my love, you have a fever.” You murmur, frowning with concern as you push sweaty curls from his face.

“Please make more obvious observations, dear,” Astarion gripes as he forces himself to sit up, still clutching his stomach. Gods, the vile churning in his gut is incessant.

He’s about to continue on with his quip, but the sudden urge to be sick forces the elf to shut up and scramble to the toilet. You hear the sounds of violent retching moments later.

“We are never going back to the Blushing Mermaid,” Astarion grumbles once the wave of illness subsides. His face is pressed against the toilet; all sense of decorum is gone. The rotten fish poisoning his insides won over any bits of pride he might have been clinging to.

You move to grab a wash rag, dampening it under the tap before kneeling back down by your husband.

“Poor thing,” You coo, folding the cloth in half before dabbing it against the back of Astarion’s neck, hoping to ease the fever.

The elf’s eyes flutter closed as he allows you to fawn over him for a moment. And then he groans and flicks his hand, palm faced downward, as if trying to shoo you away. His voice is hoarse when he says, “Just leave me here and go get ready for your meeting, darling. I’ll be fine.”

“In sickness and in health, remember?” You ask, running the cool cloth over Astarion’s face, causing him to sigh thankfully at the slight relief, “I’ll send word to the other Counsellors to inform them that I won’t be attending. You’ve never been ill before; I don’t want to leave you like this. Wyll can fill me in later.”

“Yes, ‘in sickness and in health’ and all that, darling, but those vows also included ‘until death do us part’ and I was an immortal vampire when we made them. So you were technically entering that verbal contract under false pretenses, which one could argue means it’s null and void. Go to the meeting, it’s—“

Astarion almost manages to finish his rambling legalese before more putrid liquid spews out of his mouth. When he’s finished vomiting, he whines again, any bit of stubborn resilience and feeble attempts at selflessness abandoned.

“On second thought, maybe you should stay here,” He says, his chest heaving with exertion as he clenches his eyes shut, “Please tell me you have a spell for this.”

“Unfortunately not, my love. I only have a spell for curses. Best I can do is half a bottle of Elixir of Health, some ginger-peppermint tea, and a bath.” You sigh, already crossing the bathroom on your way to the tub. You fiddle with the taps for a moment to start the bath and then begin to pour oils into the flowing water.

“Deal,” Your husband mutters, peeling off his sweat-soaked night shirt, “But none of that vile honey you got at the market here in town for my tea; I want the one Shadowheart and Lae’zel sent from Neverwinter.”

“Anything you say, Lord Ancunin.” You joke, rolling your eyes at your husband’s fussiness. He’d barely regained his sense of taste a few months ago and already favored upscale ingredients and meals, as if mortal food hadn’t been but ash in his mouth for two hundred years.

The elf glares at your insolence but doesn’t retort; he’s too busy trying to keep himself from vomiting again.

*

The following morning, Astarion wakes feeling much better. Practically brand new, in fact. It seems the potion and your strange flower child medicine must have done the trick. He sighs a breath of relief and then rolls to snuggle against you for a few more precious moments. He reaches his arms out and grasps at nothing but air.

The silver-haired elf immediately frowns and sits up. That’s exceptionally odd. You were not a morning person; you never had been in the ten years he’d known you. You always slept in longer than him, even in the wilds. On more than one occasion he’d had to lure you out of your nearly comatose slumber with the tempting smells of coffee and breakfast.

Astarion hears you gagging in the bathroom and goes to investigate. He soon finds you clinging to the toilet, practically mirroring how he looked the day prior.

“Oh no, little love, do you think you have food poisoning, too?” He questions, frowning slightly before kneeling down to press his hand against your forehead just like you’d done to him, “No fever, though.”

You whine, leaning into your husband’s hand before grumbling, “Damn the Blushing Mermaid straight to Stygia! Why do I even like that place, again?”

Astarion laughs, “I’ve been wondering the same thing for years, dear. I hope now you’ll finally reconsider. Do you want some tea and a bath?”

“Please,” You say, just before another wave of nausea hits you, forcing you to throw your head into the toilet and gag. Frustratingly, not much actually comes out despite the waves of sickness coursing through your body.

Gods, you wish you could simply vomit and feel relief.

Astarion begins to prepare the appropriate remedies, much like you’d done for him the day before. Thankfully, you seem to recover much faster than he did, and by midday you look and feel completely normal.

Good thing, too. You two were out of any elixirs that may have helped you had your ailment been as severe as Astarion's.

“Perhaps I’m just a better healer than you, darling.” The silver-haired elf teases as the two of you take afternoon tea in the sunroom.

“Perhaps I’m just stronger and more resilient than you, my love.” You retort, wrinkling your nose in jest at your husband.

He chuckles softly and then presses a kiss to your nose, “Agree to disagree.”

*

Astarion thinks the two of you are past this bit of bad luck, but when he wakes the following morning, he hears you retching once again.

When the elf finds you in the bathroom, appearing as almost an exact repeat of yesterday, though perhaps a bit worse, his brow furrows.

“Darling, I'm worried now. You look more ill than before. Perhaps we should take a trip to Jaheira? I can head to the apothecary for another Elixir of Health while she looks you over.” He murmurs gently, extending his hands to pull you to your feet.

You simply nod in agreement, too nauseated to do more than follow your husband’s lead as he slips you into a set of robes and ushers you into the carriage.

*

When Astarion returns to Jaheira’s after dashing out to the apothecary, he finds you sitting at the druid’s dining table. The two of you stop whatever hushed conversation you’d been having and turn to look at him in unison.

“Feeling any better, Tav?” He asks, coming to stand by your side before placing a worried hand upon your shoulder. You simply cover your hand with his and nod in response.

“Much better,” You say, flashing your husband a small smile. Something about your expression looks hazed, as if you’re stuck in a daydream. Poor thing, you're probably exhausted and experiencing brain fog.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine with the teas and medicinals I’ve given you,” Jaheira assures, her eyes flickering between the two of you. She grins for the briefest moment before falling back into her typical, more serious demeanor.

Astarion swears he feels like something is off, but when he turns to give you a questioning look, you’re the picture of happiness as you sip from your tea cup, finishing it off.

Well, at least you’re doing what Jaheira has prescribed.

“What about the Elixir of Health I’ve just purchased?” Your husband asks, lifting the bag in his hand, “Will that help?”

“Oh, I recommend you keep it for something else. I don’t think Tav needs it for this,” The druid responds before standing, signaling it’s the end of the visit. She was always quite straight forward and lacking in certain genteel social graces, in Astarion’s opinion.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with the Harpers.”

You quickly bid your goodbyes and Astarion helps you back into the carriage, eager to get you back to bed so that you can sleep off the rest of this sickness.

*

Astarion notices you’re uncharacteristically quiet on the carriage ride home. He typically doesn’t mind when you’re in one of your pensive, stoic moods. But this illness of yours had him more anxious than usual and he had to know more about Jaheira’s examination results, if only to ease his own worries.

“Darling,” He starts, taking your hand in his. But you don’t seem to hear him; you’re still lost in your own little world.

“My love,” He says, this time a bit more urgently, squeezing your hand just enough to pull your attention to him, “What did Jaheira say, exactly? Did she mention how long this illness will last?”

“Oh, the nausea will probably go on for a few weeks,” You reply, a goofy, lopsided smile breaking across your face. You cannot stifle your grin at the little secret you know you’ll be unable to keep for more than a few moments longer.

“Weeks?” Astarion questions, his voice pitching up with worry and brows stitching together in concern.

Why in the hells are you smiling? What druid bullshit was in the tea Jaheira gave you?

He folds his arms across his chest, not at all pleased by the lack of seriousness you seem to display. The idea of you being sick for weeks makes his heart hurt and his stomach churn as if he’s still sick. He could never stand to see you uncomfortable.

“Tav, are you drugged? This is serious. I fail to see what there is to be smiling about right now. You’re going to be nauseous for weeks and you can’t use an Elixir of Health? Are you absolutely sure Jaheira even knows what she’s—“

“I’m pregnant, Astarion,” You interrupt, and you cannot help but to laugh at your husband as his mouth hangs open mid-sentence, frozen in shock.

He blinks for a moment or two, otherwise completely still as his brain rushes to process the new information.

When the elf finally regains his composure and finds his ability to speak, he shoots out a flustered, rambled, “Darling, I— I’m sorry, can you repeat that? I’m not certain I heard you correctly. The road is quite bumpy and the wheels of the carriage are loud— I think they need oil— and the horses—“

You laugh and firmly grasp your husband’s hand, wholly capturing his attention before murmuring, “You ridiculous elf. You heard me the first time. I’m pregnant, Astarion.”

You don’t think you’ve ever seen a bigger grin cross your husband’s face.

“Tav, darling, I— gods, just come here to me.”

Astarion’s lips crash into yours, and he’s smiling into the kiss as he threads a hand through your hair, intent on pressing you closer into him. A tiny, delighted hum escapes your husband as he uses the kiss to express all the feelings he cannot yet put into words.

When he finally pulls away, he cups your face with his hands and peppers a few more kisses upon your lips.

“Is this your way of telling me you’re happy about this, Astarion?” You ask, grinning at your husband as he gazes upon you with the most besotted eyes you’ve ever seen.

“Thrilled, my love,” He whispers, before pressing forward to kiss you again, trying to convey the depth of his excitement with his affections. He doesn’t let go of you the rest of the way home, almost desperate to cover you in worshipful kisses, each one a little vow of love to you.

You notice he's unusually quiet, but then, he’s far too busy smiling and smooching to do much talking.

*

Later that evening, you move to get out of bed and head toward the bedchamber door.

“Ah, ah, ah. Where do you think you’re going, little love?” Astarion calls, already tossing his book aside to follow after you, “What do you need? Let me bring it to you.”

“I just wanted a cup of water, Astarion. I can go get—“ You start, but he quickly presses a kiss to your lips, effectively quieting you.

“Hush, my love. You’re still nauseated and you’re carrying very precious cargo.” He gently chastises as he turns you by your shoulders and steers you back toward the bed.

“You’re being dramatic,” You grumble, sitting back down in the bed and wrinkling your nose at your husband.

“Perhaps,” He agrees, grinning down at you as he gently folds the blankets back around your legs, “But you knew exactly the type of theatrics you signed up for when you married me, darling. 'To have and to hold, to love and to cherish' and all that, hm?”

And in that moment, Astarion was certain he’d never love and cherish anything more than you.

Nine months later, the little silver-haired newborn he held in his arms would prove him wrong.

[heart2beom]

open the door, mr. choi!

synopsis: going up to yeonjun's dorm, the man you believe to be a complete tool, and asking to use his shower isn't very fun.

genre: one sided enemies to lovers, fluff, angst??

pairing: yeonjun x f!reader

warning: very unrealistic writing of living on campus (i'm manifesting here..), a curse word here and there

author notes: this is so incredibly short but i like writing banter so..lol this really is just banter. reblogging is appreciated!

Transferring to a different college mid semester for better opportunities proved to be that mistake. The mistake you realize is going to be hard to top, the biggest one you've made in your entire life.

In addition to losing daily contact with your friends, you were in a complete foreign city, practically stranded. You had zero relationship with your professors, there were completely different material you had to learn to pass exams, and you had no time to make any friends. even after you decided to go through the on-campus housing route, You were only on friendly speaking terms with your roommate.

You wished you reviewed the dormitories, but you hadn't which then cost you to learn that the girls dormitory had constant complaints about water supply; it was either the sink, the toilet, or the shower — it would just decide to stop working.

Thankfully, the time you've spent living with your roommate, you only experienced one — the sink. There were problems with it practically every other day, ten times more constant than everybody else. Which caused you to naively believe it canceled out all the other occuring problems everyone else had.

So, imagine your surprise when you walk in under the shower head, butt naked, with not one drop coming out on your hair.

"Yunjin!" you yell out, panicking as you adjust the diverter still with no sign of water. "Yunjin is the water out!?"

You sigh when you can't hear a response through the door, and opted to step out the shower, and carefully walk towards the door. You slightly open it, making sure to only poke your head out as your eyes wandered around the dorm.

Great, there's no sign of her.

When you get dressed again, you throw yourself on your bed, staring at the time on your phone. 8:39PM.

Your roommate had helped you out with getting a blind date, in hopes of "putting yourself out there". Though at the time you didn't meet her with much excitement, pretending to despise the idea—Currently, you were practically a few seconds away from pulling out your hair at the thought of missing it.

For god sake, you haven't been on a date since, what, two years? And even worse, when you finally got a chance, you weren't ditching the date on your own accord, but because you couldn't shower!

"I'm gonna fucking sue them!" you shout, directing your pit of rage at your ceiling. Though, right after, you bury your face in your pillow, groaning like a little child, knowing that no matter how many complaints you submit, there would be zero response. So, at the moment, it felt like the best thing to do was give up.

Give up and ...reschedule.

No, you can't—you won't. You have to go on the date—today. An adrenaline-like surge of determination motivates you to shoot up from your bed, and quickly head to your bathroom again. You will go on this date, you owe it to Yunjin—and also, to yourself.

When you look at the counter, you immediately spot the magic wand practically ogling at you, begging you to use it. Your deodorant.

What other option did you have? When you pick up the deodorant stick, you shut your eyes, praying that the combination between deodorant and perfume could manage to make you smell good enough. You exhale, the gross thought making it hard for you to even lift your shirt.

You hear a ping of your phone, quickly opening your eyes, dropping your hand, which in turn also gets your hand off the piece of fabric you were holding.

When you look at the notification, you exhaustedly exhale, your shoulders dropping. It wasn't surprising to see it was him. Yeonjun—the guy you've been working on a project with for the past few months.

And also, the guy you've been trying to avoid ever since you got assigned the project. He was practically a mosquito, buzzing near your ears every waking moment of the day. It was easier for him when he got your number, as per your professor's request. According to her, it would be easier for you two to communicate with each other's contact numbers.

But you begged to differ, especially after these tortuous days of having your phone go off randomly throughout the day. All it did was tear away your focus from more important matters.

You opt to ignore the text, like you always do— and focus on your preparation for your date. That is, until a light bulb lights up above your head, halting your movement, as you furrow your brows in thought.

The boy's dormitory never had an issue with water, it was a usual complaint you'd overhear girls around you say in your morning classes. Their issue was odor. Which you would bet a few cents that that was specifically the consequence of the herd of men living in one space, but you digress.

Sure, you aren't very fond of the idea to go up to the man you find pretty repulsive—in terms of personality, repulsive. He was the walking definition of a douche, but you just got a date, in two years! Who knows the next time you'll get the golden opportunity again? So, you grab your towel and head out the bathroom.

You only hope that your lack of answering back texts wouldn't backfire on you.

Though it took him a few knocks, Yeonjun finally opens his door. His jaw slacks a little and brows raised, clearly taken back by your sudden visit. You wait for him to say something—or rather, you take the time to study his figure for a good second; your eyes instinctually taking in how...good he looks. His dyed hair subtly spiking his eyes, his lips looking a little more pink than usual, and the flowy dress shirt being down two button, exposing his chest—

"Y/N checking out Yeonjun part, what, a hundred?" he stupidly grins, leaning on his door frame with his arms crossed.

"Part zero." you deadpan, he was back to getting on your nerves.

"Right..." he purses his lip, which earns an audible scoff from you, his confidence was astoundingly high. Normally, you'd think it was a praiseworthy trait, confident people are cool, but Yeonjun was something else.

"Okay—look, I have no time to waste. I need your help." you say, cutting to the chase.

"Clearly..." Yeonjun says, his gaze falling to the towel hanging on one arm, and a plastic bag tight in your hand.

"First, sorry for coming here so unexpectedly—"

"Hold on," he raises up a hand to stop you, which is an annoying thing he's been doing to you lately. "Did you just apologize? To me?" he then puts a hand on his heart, pouting like a child.

When you try to open your mouth again, his finger was on your lips in attempt to shut you up — he was getting dangerously confident. You glare at him, which sends the message loud and clear as he drops his hand immediately.

"Look, if you're here for the project, I can't. I actually have a bedtime I have to follow through."

You furrow your eyebrows in disbelief. "A bedtime? What are you? Twelve?"

He clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "Damn it Y/N, this was the part where you were supposed to prove to me that you're worthy of me letting you in my dorm."

"I'm not here for the project, Yeonjun." you sigh, your energy drained from all his talking.

"Then what? It's like—" he raises his wrist to take a look at his watch. And to your dismay, his smug smile prepares you for some more teasing. "My, my, my. Coming to my dorm at nine? So I see it you changed your mind about, you know..." he puckers his lips in attempt to make smooching noises, which only earned a judgemental stare from your side.

"We're never going to have sex—ugh, I just came to use your shower, the one at my dorm stopped working." you've learned to stop yourself from engaging with his antics, it only cost you more social battery after all.

"Ah." he says, biting his lip as he appears to think more of your request. "I'm sorry, can't." he concludes.

"Huh? Why?" you ask then immediately groan at a thought, "God, do you have a girl naked in there?"

"You don't realize it sometimes Y/N, but you are a slut shamer."

You deadpan, letting out a long sigh. "Are you calling yourself a slut?"

"Frankly, for your information, I don't have a girl in there. She actually left a few minutes ago." he says ignoring your question, though he couldn't be happier from the annoyed reaction he got out of you— which he was quick to love and appreciate the more he got it.

You roll your eyes, "So, why can't you?"

"Glad you asked," he says, reaching in his pockets to dig out something. He faces his phone to you, your messages open, only blue texts being on the screen. "You've been ghosting me for like, two weeks."

So your lack of replying back is biting you in the ass.

You didn't have time, dropping the plastic bag full of your date clothes, reaching out to your pocket to get your phone.

You quickly type up an 'okay' without reading the text, and hit send. When you hear the sound of a notification from his phone, you put up a tight lipped smile as you shove your phone in your pockets, picking up your clothes and pushing yourself in his dorm.

Yeonjun broke into a smile you don't catch, as he looks back to you. "Breaking and entering is a felony Y/N!" he yells out.

You ignore him, your attention more focused on how weirdly neat his place was. Was he a fast cleaner? Tidying up the place this fast after sex?

You guessed that was what a long duration of experience gives you — the ability to clean up in minutes. But then you noticed a computer open, with the desk it's on being surrounded with crumbled paper.

Odd.

You hear the door shut, guessing it was Yeonjun, which snaps you out of your thoughts as you immediately head to the bathroom. If you stayed a second later, there was a 50% chance he would've stopped you to ask questions.

When you enter the bathroom, and lock the door behind you, you're pleasantly caught by surprise.

The smell—the smell wasn't foul. You hate to admit, in the back of your mind, you'd always have this image of Yeonjun—a player who was gross.

You don't exactly know why you held onto it for so long since there were multiple, multiple times you got close enough, that your nose could pick up his cologne—it smelled really good, not too strong, just enough.

And when you stand there in his bathroom, weirdly finding yourself inhaling the scent of the air—it smelled pretty fucking good.

A loud knock on the door your back is leaning on startles you, making you jump. "Hey, hurry up! I'm giving you fifteen minutes."

Fifteen minutes? What a psycho.

You shake your head at your own ungratefulness—he was letting you borrow his shower, which you genuinely appreciated, so you undressed quickly in hopes of showering forty minutes max.

You didn't pick up your hair brush with you, so consequently you were spending a great deal of time untangling your hair with your towel—which wasn't very..effecitve.

You already changed, obviously, but your makeup was undone. Just lipgloss was all you had time to do, you thought in your head, disappointed.

Not to forget—Yeonjun has been talking to you through the door the moment you shut the running water—not proving the mosquito reincarnation theories you've been holding onto, to be wrong. He was driving you very close to the edge of insanity.

"You're taking so long." he whines for the hundredth time. "I have to show you something."

You groan, walking towards the door. You were clothed now anyway, if opening the door would finally fix Yeonjun's mouth being a broken record, you would happily do it.

He shuffles away from the door when you push it open, flustered as he clears his throat.

Was he leaning on the door?

"What do you want?"

You think you see his eyes scanning your outfit for a second, a hint of confusion overtaking his expression but he turns away to walk towards the computer—the one that was previously surrounded with balled up paper, so you ignore it. "You look hot but I'll decide to ignore that. I have to show you something."

You exhale, your hair still pretty untamed. "Alright, I don't have that much time though."

He let himself fall on his spinning office chair, as he gestures his hand for you to sit at the edge of his bed.

You clear your throat, waiting for him to stop stalling through his spinning.

And he does.

"Okay." he exhaled, a little shakily. Which was weird. "So, remember the text you sent okay too?"

"Yeonjun...that just happened. Like an hour ago."

"Yep, yeah. Cool, cool, cool." he repeats, opting to spin once more. You raise an eyebrow, is he trolling you?

"I didn't like—you know, read the text. I mean, I can."

"You didn't read it? You should. Actually—nope, no. You shouldn't. You should. Yeah, you should."

You knit your eyebrows together at his odd speaking patterns. Reaching for your phone, you click on the message icon—until a number pops up, calling you.

All of a sudden, you get nervous. Your hand getting all clammy as you swiped right on the call.

"Hi." you breath out, biting your lip in eagerness to hear your date's voice.

Yeonjun only watches you, cocking his head at the sudden mood change. No—he was tilting his head because of all of that. Your dress, the matching bag, your lipgloss.

He furrows his brows, still watching you stutter on the phone, and practically making a fool of yourself with the way you were stupidly, prettily smiling ear to ear.

You never did that with him. Okay, sure, he likes seeing you roll your eyes or scoff at his antics— it brings him pure joy! But god, thinking now, he would appreciate it a hundred times more if your reaction to him was a smile—that smile instead. Or a laugh. Or a hug, maybe a kiss—

Time didn't wait for anyone—connecting the dots unfortunately only happened the moment you hung up the phone.

"Sorry, that was my date. I really have to go. What do you want to show me?"

"Um—uh...gross!"

You scrunch up your face, taken aback. "What?"

"You—you have, like, spinach stuck between your teeth."

Your eyes widen in shock immediately getting off the bed, but then you halt, turning to look at Yeonjun. "But I didn't eat spinach today. Or yesterday." you mumble.

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not a professional chef that can tell what that nasty piece of green leaf is in between your teeth."

"God, is it that bad?" you ask in horror, not waiting for his reply as you burst into the bathroom.

Meanwhile as you check your teeth in the mirror, Yeonjun immediately grabs the phone you left on his bed, which was still open—letting him breath in relief.

He immediately went on to his name on your phone to open the messages between you two—it was ridiculous but a smile still tugged on his lips for a split second when he noticed his contact name was the one he typed in a few months ago, still 'hottest man alive'—he took it a sign you didn't disagree... or it could be that you were too lazy to change it.

But he immediately shook his head out of the thought — doing his job of deleting the message that you sent an okay to.

"What the fuck are you doing?" you say with wide eyes, snatching your phone away from the boys hand.

"Just checking the time." he says with an awkward smile, a little startled of your sudden presence.

"On my phone? You literally have a watch." you say, your tone laced with confusion. Which signaled Yeonjun to shoot up from his bed, pushing you out towards the door—there was no way out of this but to push you out, and hopefully the date being horrible enough for you to forget about confronting him about this tomorrow. And the day after tomorrow. Preferably, for the rest of his life on Earth.

"Time for you to leave!" he yells, finally getting you out of his dorm, and now out in the hallway.

Before you could say anything—for example, reminding him that 90% of the stuff you brought was still in the bathroom—he slammed the door right in your face.

When you recollect your shock, you scoff, your annoyance through the roof.

What was he looking at in your phone?

You open it, hoping to find the answer.

But you're only confused as you only see your chat with Yeonjun open.

And even more confused when the text length of the message before your 'okay' was way shorter than what you remember.

Meanwhile, Yeonjun was sitting on his desk chair, biting his lip as he hesitantly hit the delete button on the music project he's been working on.

ending a/n: i think i'm allergic to ending a fic with the two pairings getting together cz tell me why this was deadass just enemies to ????? T_T

[sereneres]

sick. (sort of) ⁰

k. chaewon & m. sakura x 6th member!reader / 0.7k

summary. — in which you’re sick enough to have one (1) bead of sweat roll down the side of your face.

warnings. — eunchae pops in and then disappears / i wrote a majority of this at midnight lol, i am not sick.

you’re sick.

so sick that you felt like you were going to die in the next few seconds if a doctor didn’t come and–

“you don’t feel warm.” chaewon murmured, her hand placed on your forehead. “you’re also not red, nor are you sweating.” she then moved her hand to the side of your neck, her brows furrowed as she stared at you. “are you sure you’re sick?”

okay, well, maybe you weren’t that sick—at least, you weren’t so sick that you needed a doctor to come and fix you—but it wasn’t like you weren’t not sick either.

“i don’feel okay.” you slur, wincing when you feel your head pound. “everythin’ hurts.”

chaewon, frowning, sighs and moves to remove her hand from your throat, only for you to take it and press your cheek against her palm.

“‘nnie, you’re s’warm…” you mutter, eyes drifting shut oh so slowly. “‘rey’sureyou’n’sick?”

the older girl purses her lips, her frown deepening as she gently shook you awake, causing you to whine. “yn, please try and stay awake. you can’t take medicine if you aren’t.”

“medicine?” just hearing the word is enough to make you snap awake. “wh’ch medicine? ‘s it the one tha’ tastes goo’ or the one that tastes supa’ bitta’?”

“neither of them taste good or bitter, yn.” she says, sighing. “both of them are supposed to be sweet just so that kids can eat it without whining, but–”

“what’s going on here?”

the two of you turned your heads to the door—well, more like chaewon did. you had just slowly spun in your chair until you were somewhat facing the door—where the oldest of the six of you stood.

“hi ‘nnie!” you greeted, slugishly waving your hand at the older girl. “wh’nd yu’ge’here?”

she blinks, making you blink back at her, if not a little bit slowly. “what?”

“she’s asking, ‘when did you get here?’” chaewon translated, giving you a weirded-out look when you let out a not-so-quiet giggle at the thought of needing a translator to translate your perfectly understandable—and definitely not slurred—words. “and to answer your question, ynnie is sick. sort of.”

“sort of?” eunchae—where the hell did she come from?—asked, popping out from behind sakura—oh.—with an unimpressed look on her face. “how is someone ‘sort of sick’?”

“have you taken her temperature yet?” sakura asked, her lips pursed.

chaewon shook her head, her brows furrowed. “i haven’t, but she doesn’t feel all that warm, she isn’t red, and she isn’t sweating.”

“but ‘m sweating.” you pouted, pointing at what you’re pretty sure is a bead of sweat on the side of your face. “see?”

“yn isn’t warm, she isn’t red, but she is sweating.” chaewon amended. satisfied by the correction, you give your leader a gummy smile and, to your delight, she returns it with a small smile of her own.

“…let’s just bring her to the kitchen.” sakura decided with a sigh. “the thermometer should be in a drawer somewhere in there and if she is actually sick, she’ll take some medicine and go straight back to bed.”

“and if she isn’t?”

“y’h!” you slur, opening your eyes as wide as you could. “wh’if ‘m n’sick?”

“then we’ll make her breakfast and hope that her ‘sort of’ sickness doesn’t make her throw up.” sakura said, her lips pressed into a thin line. “and in the event that she does throw up, we’ll hope that she throws up on anywhere—the toilet would be more preferable but we both know she’s not going to make it there—but herself.”

“th’s hr’sh.” you mutter sulkily. “‘can to’ally m’ke ‘t t’th’toil’t.”

chaewon sighs in exasperation, though the amused smile on her lips gives her away. “yn, we have no idea what you’re saying.”

“hmph!”

(spoiler: you ended up kneeling in front of the toilet an hour or so later with kazuha holding your hair up and yunjin cooing in your ear. sakura and chaewon were busy cleaning up your throw up on the floor—thankfully tiled—while eunchae was in her room, having been sent away after nearly throwing up herself after seeing you throw up.)

masterlist.

[strwbnnie]

chileee what is up with me & angst 😭 I was able to salvage this from my notes so I thought why not post it lol probably my first and last aot piece cause idk how to write them fr 😭 & sorry to the Reiner loves cause I wrote him so mean 😭

cw: fat shaming, fat phobia, best friend Eren, ex-boyfriend Reiner, mention of cheating, verbal abuse, mention of k!lling, friends to lovers, one sided pining, sorry if I missed anything!

Word count is undetermined but it’s not that long.

❀

Eren hasn’t said a word to you since you arrived at his apartment, puffy eyed and soaking wet from the rain, just stepped out of the way and allowed you to walk in. 

You didn’t blame him, it’d been quite a while since the two of you had last spoken. Two or three weeks maybe, you couldn’t remember. It was difficult keeping track of time when your mind was slowly but surely shutting down. Either way it made you feel like shit. 

You wanted to to sit and talk to him but your first priority was getting out of those wet clothes. You went straight to his bedroom, closing yourself in the en-suite.

You let the shower run for a little bit, fogging up the room and hopefully drowning out your sorrow as you sit on the covered toilet, aimlessly scrolling. You checked the notifications on your phone, tapping around until you heard your ex-boyfriend’s voice projecting from the speakers. 

“Baby, just come back home. Please, let’s just talk about it.” “Hear me out, Y/N. I’m sorry okay, just come back.”

The way he was pleading you’d think he actually gave a damn about you.

“Come on Y/N,” There’s a short pause and a deep sigh. You know it’s coming. You hear the change in his tone, that false compassion and empathy has withered away. “Let’s face it, Y/N. Nobody’s gonna want you but me. Nobody’s into fat bitches. You’re lucky your face is cute. Nothing but a pretty face and a hole to fuck. Or should I say holes? I’m sure a slut like you takes it up the ass too-.”

Globs of hot tears ran down your face, budding at your chin and pooling on the screen of your phone. You deleted the nasty voice message Reiner left, only thirteen seconds into the minute and twelve second voice message, his harsh words breaking your heart all over again. 

The wound was still fresh and he did nothing but cut you deeper. Why was he like that???

Blocking his number so you wouldn’t receive anymore, you were ready to be done with this shit. Ready to heal from Reiner and all the bullshit he‘s put you through.

After your eyes are cried out and your skin is parched from the piping hot water, you finally exit. 

You didn’t leave with anything except your purse, phone and the clothes on your back, so you’re more than grateful to see a white tshirt and a towel on Eren’s bed waiting for you. The shirt was a little tight on your arms and the hem ended right at the cusp of your butt but it was better than nothing. 

The California King in his bedroom looked freshly made, plush and inviting, but you’d spent far too many nights alone in an empty bed while your so-called partner occupied another. You should’ve known that’s how it’d be when you decided to get yourself into a domesticated situationship with a narcissistic cheater.

You opted for the couch, where Eren was also sitting. He’s munching on a bowl of cereal watching some crime documentary. The atmosphere is dull, but it’s not as bad as you thought it’d be.

“Hey!”

He didn’t bother feigning the same excitement, sending nothing but a head nod you’re way but you’re still grateful to get something out of him.

Maybe he was annoyed, which he had every right to be. It was late as hell, around three in the morning, and you honestly felt a little bad. Showing up out of the blue and forcing him to share his space. 

“I really appreciate you letting me stay here, there were no rooms available anywhere.”

He ignored you, you figured he would. He hasn’t said much since you’ve been there. He’s treating you as if you’re a stranger, almost.

Unfortunately the documentary has lost all of his interest, he figured out the wife was the killer all along and there’s no reason to keep watching. 

Now he’s stretching out, manspreading if you will, with his legs cocked open. He’s sporting that same bored look, except now he’s on his phone watching TikTok’s with his volume obnoxiously loud.

Honestly, he didn’t even touch this app unless he was watching the shit ton of videos you sent him at some manic hour of the night. But right now he needed something to distract him. To distract him from everything only you made him feel.

“I get paid Friday, I can send you something once it’s deposited, my money lookin kinda funny right now so...” 

You’d spent close to your last getting an Uber to Eren’s. You weren’t sure why you even decided to come to Eren’s. Your parents lived in the same city and they probably would’ve been more welcoming than he was being right about now. 

“When have I ever asked you to pay me back for anything y/n?” 

His tone isn’t cold or mean, but indifferent. Like he doesn’t care. You’re sure he doesn’t. 

The tension is almost tangible, thick and suffocating.

“I know, but-“ You cut yourself off, stumbling over your words. Your throat is scratchy and your mouth dry. You didn’t know exactly what to say to mend things between you and your bestfriend. 

You hoped to pick up the pieces. Pickup where you left off like the two of y’all always did. But this here just showed how dumb and deluded you really were.

“I’m sorry…you were right.” You feel ashamed. Embarrassed even.

You can feel him staring at you, so you keep your eyes glued to your hands in your lap, twirling your thumbs in hopes to make amends. 

“What are you talking about, y/n?” You can feel his gaze boring into you.

“About Reiner…and every-everything else really. We not getting back together, forreal this time, I can’t.”

He was right about everything. Reiner was an immature asshole. You trusted his smooth talking, pretty smile and it backfired horrendously. 

Reiner was verbally abusive, insecure and mean, and he projected it without a care. Tore you down every chance he got, belittling you until you were almost an empty shell of your former self. 

On top of that, he was insensitive as hell, bullied you worse than any of those middle and high school nobodies you no longer remembered.

He’d probably use his last breath to lie, just because. If you were blind he’d tell you the sun was blue and the sky was yellow, for no reason whatsoever other than to be a dick. 

All of this Eren warned you about, but you just had to go and see for yourself. You fell for the first boy to show interest in you. The first to give you attention and affection. The first one who wasn’t looking to ‘try it out’ with a fat girl or looked at you like some pity case. 

So you thought. 

“You’ve said that before.”

“I know! But I mean it this time, and I’m so sorry for ghosting you and lying a-and putting him first before our friendship cause..I know you wouldn’t do that to me and I’m such an awful person-.”

Your sniffles turned into sobs, deep sobs that shook your entire body against his when he finally went against his stubborn ways and pulled you into a hug. 

You sound sincere, but Eren doesn’t know if he believes you. Hell it wouldn’t be the first time you lied to him about getting back with Reiner.

He wanted to tell you off. Scold you and yell at you for abandoning him. For giving him your ass to kiss cus you thought you were in love, only to come crawling back asking him to pick up the fucking pieces, again.

“I should’ve listened to you.”

Words muffled into his chest but he heard you. 

“You should’ve.” He doesn’t mean to sound condescending but it’s true. “I don’t like seeing you cry.” 

His voice startled you a little bit, velvety and deep, chest rumbling as he still had you pressed up against his frame. The aloof facade cracking with each sob. 

“I’ll handle it.”

He’d handle it. Handle him. 

His arms embraced you tighter. One holding you against him while the other ran down your back, over your thigh then back up again as he allowed you to bawl your eyes out.

“I hate when you talk like that Ren,” You leaned back to look at him. “You know I don’t like unnecessary viole-.” 

He grabs your face mid sentence, squishing your cheeks together, your lips round and pouty as you stared back at him. 

“How’s it unnecessary when my princess is sitting here with tears running down her pretty ass face?”

It slipped but he made no attempt to correct it.

His princess. He’d always called you a princess, especially when y’all were younger. He found it very intriguing how spoiled you were, especially by the men in your life. Dad, uncles, even Eren himself. 

He remembers saving up his little paychecks from working part time to spoil you as well, buying you little trinkets and gifts you probably didn’t even have anymore. 

Nothing was unnecessary when it came to his princess. He’d die for you. Kill for you, even. You were the light of his dim life. Why wouldn’t you just realize it?

[bouncybongfairy]

Hello sweetness ❤️

Can you write a dom Oliver Quick x femme reader? Reader tries to embarrass Ollie in some way in front of friends (masking the fact that she’s into him) and Ollie punishes her for it later? “All you had to do was ask” somewhere in there lol. Hope this makes sense💋

Just Had To Ask

Oliver Quick x Fem Reader Smut

Summary: You embarrass Oliver while playing never have I ever. He shows you how to use your mouth properly after the game.

Word Count: 1.0k+

Ref Account: @kaionyx

TW: Face Fucking, Degradation, Oral Fixation, Masocism

<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3

Everyone was gathered around the coffee table. Drunkenly laughing and making conversation. Trying desperately to tune out the crying of your responsibilities. Work, school, get fucked up, playing into the pointless social hierarchy, repeat. Oliver was sitting on the couch and you were on the floor between his legs. A red solo cup being held by your manicured fingertips Rubbing your other hand up and down his shin. Someone suggests a game of never have I ever, due to the fact that the game takes minimal effort: everybody joined it. At first the questions weren’t anything deep but as the game progressed so did the vulgarity of its content. 

“Never have I ever, let a man put me in my place,” you laughed and set your cup on the table. This caused a few snickers from the other men in the room. Oliver set his hand on your shoulder, you knew he was trying to rein you in. 

If you were being truthful, you should have chugged the rest of your cup. Honestly, you were constantly trying to test his limits. You loved the way he looked at you, silently communicating with his eyes. Letting you know what you were walking on thin ice. This gave you such a thrill it became a regular routine. Purposely dancing in the most provocative way you could, barking back at him whenever he tried to calm you down. Knowing you were his but because there was no title yet, it gave you more length on your leash.

“Never had I ever, let a someone fuck my mouth,” one of your friends asked while making direct eyecontact with her boyfriend and taking a sip. You let your head fall back into his lap, mouthing ‘you wish’ to him. Watching in amusement as he started grinding his teeth together. You could tell he was getting worked up; feeling his member began to harden.  

“Why isn’t Y/N drinking Ollie?” one of his friends snickered which made him roll his eyes; they knew you guys liked each other and had been talking for a while.

Fast forward an hour and everyone was in their own little world. Some couples lazily making out on the carpet, a few people passed out on the sofa and lounge chairs. Someone locked in the bathroom, hearing them throw up through the door. Ollie was asleep and you really needed to pee. The bathroom downstairs was taken so you stumbled upstairs and into the master bedroom. Pushing open the bathroom door and letting yourself fall onto the toilet. 

As you were finishing up when Oliver came in; taking you off guard. He locked the door behind himself and then turned back to you. His hair was wild, sticking out in all directions. The pupils of his eyes were completely dilated. It was extremely noticeable due to his once baby blue eyes now being black. He wasn’t even making eye contact but instead ripping you apart with his gaze. Mouth hung open and breathing like he just ran a mile. 

“You know, if you really wanted me to put you in place you could have just asked,” he explained, taking a step forward. You didn’t say anything and neither did you until being backed up against the sink; him only inches away, 

“It was so obvious how you were crying for my attention earlier. Flaunting yourself, waiting for me to shut you up. The way your face heats up everytime you look back at me, trying to see if I'm having a fit,” he said, pressing hips against yours. 

Running his finger tips down your arm and towards the hem of the dress. Dipping the digits underneath the material to feel the skin on your thigh. Laughing as you spread your thighs apart slightly. Using his other hand to grab your jaw, forcing your lips to separate. 

“I wish?” he growled, “are you really that conceited that you think i’d need to wish for these lips wrapped around me Like you wouldn’t be begging for it ?” he talks down to you, pushing you down by your face onto your knees.

 God he was squeezing your jaw so hard, the inside of your cheeks were pressed against your teeth. Your knees hit the ground hard, the cold tile only helping aid the ache slightly. He pushed his two fingers into your mouth, smashing your tongue down. Eyes beginning to water from trying not to gag. He uses his thumb and wipes them away after they fall down your cheeks. 

“If you’re waiting to start begging because I have my fingers down your needly little throat then we're gonna be here all night,” he laughed, wiggling his fingers a bit. 

You tried saying please but it was gurgled and made drool fall down your chin. Spilling out of the sides of your mouth, he was grinning from ear to ear. Delighted to finally have you under his thumb, knowing he had enough control to do whatever he wanted. In his eyes, you were a blank canvas waiting to be littered with his art. He takes his fingers out of your mouth and begins to unbuckle his belt. Grabbing his cock by the base with one hand and using the other to grab a fist full of hair. Anchoring his hand onto the marble of the sink, immobilizing your head. He began rubbing his tip against your bottom lip. Pulling away everytime you tried to take his length into your mouth. After he did this a few more times, you began getting irritated; glaring up, which only hummored him. 

“Awe what, you don’t like that?” he cooed down at you in the most patronizing tone he could come up with. 

You opened your mouth to respond but he took that opportunity to shove himself inside. Using both hands to hold your head in place as he began thrusting. Hands gripped his jeans, your nails ripping down the material. Trying to suck in breath whenever his length wasn’t blocking your airway. Gagging and sputtering; a mix of pre-cum and saliva dripping down your neck and onto your chest. You move your head to the side but there is no escape. His cock being pulled out of your throat and tucked into the pocket of your cheek. 

“Now keep that pretty mouth open so I don’t have to hurt you, yeah?” he growls, gripping onto your hair with more force. 

Fucking himself deep into your throat, groaning once his cock was once again blanketed by your warm mouth. He couldn’t hold his climax back for much longer. He looked down at you and almost came from the sight; your face was bright red, eyebrows furrowed and tears streaming down your cheeks. He presses himself into your mouth until your lips are around his base. Your head smashed between him and the sink. Cum starting to flood down your throat, some spilling out the sides of your mouth. Once he was finished, he pulled out and walked out; leaving you confused and blue balled.

[sweetdreamlandstuff]

Let me see

NSFW / Minors don't interact / 18+

Pairing: Kamo Choso x female reader

Summary: Art student Choso losing his mind over you, the beautiful model in his art class

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving)

Words: ~1.900

Notes: Just a sweet little gift for all my Choso fuckers out there lol Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

This is far from the first time for him. Choso’s eyes have glided along countless body shapes, sizes and curves. He’s used to it; to the nudity, the slow peeling off of clothes, in a non-sexual, professional way. 

But since you’ve taken off your clothes his usual professionalism seems to have left his body. You’re not like the other models. At least not for him. You’re different.

You’re stirring something inside of him, as you fix your gaze on one point of the room, body bare, face open and curious. You’re beautiful. Objectively. But for him, for Choso, you’re more. Your whole aura makes him feel like he’s on edge.

His pencil drags along his canvas, drawing along with the other students in the art class. It's quiet, except for the scraping of pencils, and faint comments of the teacher, who’s wandering aimlessly through the room. He wonders if the others can hear his heart racing in his chest. 

He works on the shadows, as he desperately wishes it were his fingers dipping into the shadows of your body instead. Your skin seems so soft, so touchable, your pose so calm, your expression collected. You’re truly ethereal.  

Choso tries to concentrate, working on his study, sketching and blurring until he is somehow satisfied - although he knows no painting will ever do your beauty justice.

He hopes no one notices how greedily his eyes drag along your silhouette, how desperately he wishes that instead of his pencil dragging along the canvas, it would be his fingers dragging along your curves. 

When his gaze rests too long on you he nervously shifts his attention back to the canvas in front of him, blocking the view of you. He tries to ignore the way his blood runs hot through his veins with every sight of you. His heart nervously tugs in his chest every time he takes you in. He feels weak at how he’s fallen prey to you, his body acting on his own. 

Others wouldn’t even notice what is going through him, Choso’s expression is as neutral and stoic as ever. When he excuses himself to go to the toilet, no one would ever suspect it's because of you. Because you almost make it hard for him to breathe or because his dick strains so hard against the confinement of his pants. 

Choso on the other hand can’t comprehend how the others can’t notice. The reflection of his black eyes stares back at him deliriously, knuckles turning white as his hands grab the sink tightly. His breathing is erratic and shallow, his blood running hotly through his veins. 

He ignores the throbbing of his cock, trying to deepen his breath as he focuses his thoughts on everything - everything other than you. He loses track of time, of how long it takes for him to pull himself together. 

When he enters the classroom again he’s taken aback. Seems like he has allowed himself too much time. The class had ended. One of his classmates rushes past him, shooting him a polite smile before Choso is all alone with you.

You’re clad in a kimono now, the delicate fabric slightly swaying across your ankles as you turn around.

The line of your gazes connected, just for a moment before Choso quickly averts his. Your gaze hit him hard and sweet, making his heart tug nervously in his chest as if he hasn’t just spent minutes trying to calm himself down. 

He inhales sharply through his nose, returning to his seat. His unfinished painting stares back at him, causing him discontent. 

“I can pose for you for another 10 minutes.”

His eyes snap up, peering past his canvas, resting on yours. A soft, almost shy smile plays around your lips. Your voice has a soothing tone, alluring. 

“No. No, you don’t have to,” he stammers, a slight blush creeping across his cheeks. You’re so affectionate, so attentive.

“I can also do another pose,” you propose. 

Choso knows that he shouldn’t say yes. He wouldn’t be able to concentrate, wouldn’t be able to paint like he usually does - without emotion, only caring about his study. But he’s so powerless, succumbing to your enchantment. 

“Alright, I’ll be quick.”

He has to swallow hard as you lose your kimono, folding it away before you strike your pose. Like earlier right in front of him, sitting on the chair, one leg over the other, staring to the right. 

You slightly tilt your head, “Like this?”

It’s an honor to paint you from every angle. Nonetheless, he takes long strides over to you. The sudden lack of proximity has his palms dampening, pulse racing, as his eyes trail across your features.  

And it’s no different for you. He practically looms over you, taking up your entire line of sight. It’s a little bit unexpected. You gulp, his blown-out pupils take your words away.

He gestures for you to move further to the right on the chair, positioning yourself more diagonally. When he orders a further correction you don’t seem to get what he’s saying, too caught up with processing the closeness you find yourself to him. 

“Can I?”

You nod. His fingertips trace along your bare skin, causing shivers to rise. The touch doesn’t seem to leave him cold either, you can feel it; the slight, but noticeable trembling of his hands.

Choso positions you how he desires; his hands circling your wrist, putting it close to your waist, the other hanging loosely on your side. His fingertips glide along your jawline before he slightly angles your face towards him. You have no other choice but to look at him. 

The way he watches you, eyes hazed over with lust, is borderline feral. You swallow against the dryness of your mouth. 

You’re not sure if he even knows what he’s doing, it just seems like he just wants to press his hands onto you, with no end goal, no plan. You shudder at the brush of his fingertips against your skin.

Both of you forgot all about the painting, the only thing that is important now is his hot hands on you. His palms glide along your sides before they rest on your thighs. His figure encompasses you fully now, you bask in his warmth, his scent. 

You think he must hear it, the way your heart beats against your ribcage and your shallow, fast breathing. 

But his gaze is laced with uncertainty, an almost pleading, questioning look in his dark eyes. Apparently, he has no idea that he has you in the palm of his hand, quite literally. 

Choso hesitates once his hands smooth over your thighs. 

His voice is barely above a whisper, so low you hardly understand him. “Let me see.”

A little gasp drops past your lips and you’re not sure how a complete stranger has such a command over you. 

You open your legs for him, slowly, deliberately. 

He sinks down to his knees, practically facing your slick pussy. You can feel his breath against your skin.

For one hour you stood naked in front of a dozen of people. Yet, you don’t think you’ve ever felt this exposed. 

You’re about to close your legs again, but his hands dig into your soft flesh, halting your movement.

“Please, can I?” His voice almost breaks, dripping with need.

You’re not sure what exactly he asks for, but you comply willingly. You nod eagerly, as he peers up at you, his gaze hazed over with lust.

The meeting of his lips on your skin draws a strained gasp from you. He worships you, pressing feathery kisses onto your thighs, first paying attention to one thigh and then to the other. Slowly he works his way to your core. Your hands grip the edge of your seat, your heart beating so violently against your chest it may spring out of it.

Your skin burns where he touched you, the anticipation of having him where you need him the most nearly breaking you apart. The air hits your slick vulva, making apparent how feverishly you desire him. 

You slightly arch your back in an instinctual search for more. He complies eagerly, and as you feel his tongue lazily tracing along your pussylips you let out a low, relieved sigh. He groans at your taste, his hands grabbing at the meat of your thighs. 

He works awfully slow, licking slow stripes up your slit, carefully veering around your clit. You slightly rut into his face, making him hum against your core, the low vibrations of it making you gasp. Your thighs were already becoming slick with your arousal.

His hands tighten around your thighs, holding himself back, restraining himself from giving you his all. Choso has you squirming with anticipation. 

“Please,” you hum, snaking a hand down to tug on his black hair. 

And again, he complies. He licks at your clit, lazily, almost teasingly. A breathless moan drops from your parted lips. The sound travels straight to his cock, throbbing desperately in his taut pants. 

You gasp in surprise as he moves, letting your legs rest on his broad shoulders, holding your waist to stop you from falling off the edge of the chair. 

He buries his face between your thighs greedily. All his teasing patience has subsided. His tongue laps at your folds and lips, with an almost brutal pace. Your hands tug harder at his hair once his lips seal around your clit, sucking hard. 

You whine desperately, your eyes almost rolling back to your skull. Finally, you have what you’ve longed for. 

He works like that, his tongue draws circles around your clit, sucking, lapping at your drenched folds, coaxing you into bliss. It almost sounds obscene, so wet, the way his face meets your messy, dripping pussy. He makes you feel so good, so unbelievably good.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your head was thrown back, until you felt him retreating. You perk up. His warm breath fans over your wet pussy, your soft pants and moans filling up the quiet room.

“Choso.” 

You look at him dumbfounded, brain clouded with lust. “What?” 

“My name. It’s Choso. You should know who makes you feel this good,” he murmurs sheepishly, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine as he looks at you tenderly through his half-lidded eyes.

You let out a surprised laugh, which bleeds into a high-pitched whine as he buries his face between your legs once more. 

You moan his name, letting it roll off your leaden tongue tentatively, causing him to groan desperately against you. 

You meet his eyes, as he circles your entrance. He moves impossibly closer, fucking you with his tongue. His face becomes blurred as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten. 

He flips his tongue on your puffy clit, before he sucks hard, having you call out his name as you tip over the edge.

You cum, hard. The whole tension that has been building up before discharges at this moment. 

Your thighs squish around his messy face as he guides you through your high with his skilled mouth. 

His name drops from your parted lips, again and again, like a prayer. He holds you steady with his large hands, as your whole body trembles. 

When he lets go of you, his face is drenched. The look of reverence in his eyes as he peers up at you makes your chest swell with affection. 

You let out a breathy, nervous chuckle. “Nice to meet you, Choso.”

©sweetdreamlandstuff

[itsclydebitches]

I'm heart-bent in my apartment

'Cause all that you left was your fart scent

Now that you're gone I wrote this song

'Cause all you left was the smell of your farts

I LOVE Ted's little song this episode because it's so, so good.

It's also kinda bad.

A long while back I wrote a post about Trent falling for Ted's way with words. After all, how can the man who claims to love writing not be enamored with someone who employs so many witty turns of phrase and metaphors, all of them nestled within beautiful, heartfelt speeches? Even considering that this is TV Land where characters usually know exactly what to say and say it without a single stumble, Ted is written to have a skill with verbal poetry.

This little tune is a perfect example of that skill. Ted comes up with a song right on the spot, that rhymes, using a term Keeley just made up, and it's frankly catchy as fuck. Even our skeptical duo are bopping their heads along. Plus, there's something legitimately compelling (to me anyway) about writing a Serious Love Song focused on a partner who was so bad for you all they left behind was a - metaphorical and literal - bad smell. Underneath the silliness, that's an interesting way to frame Keeley's breakup (given that talk of Jack is what inspired this), especially after all the "love bombing" she experienced. It makes me wonder if Keeley kept things like the first edition novel, or if all that's left of Jack are those bad thoughts and feelings associated with her judgement of Keeley's sexual autonomy, lingering like, you know, a fart.

So the little devil on my shoulder wearing the Tedependent tin hat is squealing that Ted wrote a kinda inspired country song on the fly while his writer dork is walking around in a Dolly Parton t-shirt.

Meanwhile, the sensible angel on the other shoulder is acknowledging that actually the song is stupid lol. It's about farts after all and look, for however impressive it is at first, Ted fails to land that last rhyme! Now, putting aside whether the final line needs to rhyme (that's an artistic conversation for another day) I kinda love that too because it feels representative of Ted's later speech. He starts the episode with an impressive song about farts of all things... and then fumbles the ending. Later, Ted will start another impressive speech about intestinal distress (don't think about Trent's "wreaking havoc on his digestive system" line dON'T THINK ABOUT IT) and then likewise fumble the landing with Colin. Did you really just compare being gay to liking a sport's team? Uh... yeah. Whoops. My bad. Ted Lasso is a show absolutely stuffed with parallels and I love when fun little connections like this pop up. Not only does the earlier song remind us of Ted's often childish approach to life (it's not a shock to hear him talking about destroying a toilet when he was just singing about farts), but the structure of the scene mimics what's to come. Like that childish reminder, the song likewise reminds us that Ted often starts really strong with fantastic creativity and intentions... only to struggle a bit at the end. That's life and complex character flaws ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[bisluthq]

Yes! Exactly everything you said about matty and the comedian comparisons! I’m completely stumped about comedians I like atm lmao but I do like dark comedy. I think matty wanted to be like them but just isn’t cool enough or smart enough, or it’s cause he actually does believe the “jokes” he makes. But yeah, he’s shown who he is enough times now, and I think this has been the clearest he’s been where there’s no gag, it’s straight up shit.

Also I think he doesn’t want to be a better person or a good person, he just wants to be perceived as one the same way he wants to be perceived as a non snobby intellectual, but he just reminds me of Russel brand (excluding the very part about the allegations about Russel, I haven’t heard that sort of thing about matty). He seems to put so much effort into acting like he doesn’t care about fame and image and legacy but he sure knows how to go ‘woopsies i think I think I said something bad again? I’m not perfect :( but no one can be :) but I don’t want to be an asshole :( but I can’t help who I am and at least I am always true to myself :)’ i can’t imagine being a fan, it seems exhausting (i say as a swiftie lmao).

And yep, you really see what people think when they’re angry/ upset! I have this problem, only my problem is that I grew up constantly hearing the homophobic f slur (never actually used in context though because my extended family has a lot of LGB folks, and we had a drag queen family friend) but if someone stubbed their toe, encounter a bad driver, spill a drink, anything, they’d shout “fucking F…”! I struggled getting my key into the lock the other day and was busting for the toilet and said “come on you fucking f…” and it caught me off guard, because one I’m bi lol but it just came out so easily and without thought, but mostly because I felt uncomfortable when Jason Kelce said it a few weeks ago even though he was using the word that had been used against him. But talking about a key in the door, it obviously has no deep meaning or person attached, but I need to unlearn that as my “I’m so frustrated right now phrase” 😬 but in a more serious thing, we have had a lot youth crime and when they show videos with blurred out faces and the kids aren’t white, or it’s in an area that’s accepted a lot of refugees, the things people who weren’t even affected will say, and comments people leave on social media with their government name… so messed up! I read a book a few years ago about African Americans living in America and children of immigrants feel they need to be perfect and not get in any minor mischief or trouble like underage drinking because other people will paint it as a failing of their whole community. I can’t remember the name of the book now (maybe it was a blm podcast actually? If anyone remembers it please let me know) but it was something that I hadn’t personally seen/ noticed until after learning that. But now I see it everywhere, and especially with trans people atm!

I keep thinking about what you said about Vance being more dangerous than trump because he speaks well and I’m noticing it with the edge lord types who use big words or people who write a seemingly logical explanation about why eating too much red meat is bad and then they’ll just throw in some racist dog whistles and then within a few weeks they’re not using dog whistles but saying the racist shit unfiltered and because they made some accurate points and used big words and sounded eloquent, it just slides in there like ‘oh well this must be true too’

I got off topic from talking about what matty said but it feels like it’s all connected in some weird way. It makes sense in my head, I just can’t put the words in order.

I mean Matty saying what he said wasn’t really a joke - it was just a racialized threat. Obviously it was a jokey threat because I don’t believe Matty would fight Azaelia (also: he if he did, he would lose because she’s just straight up crazier than him). And I just have no patience for that? If he said “I’m coming to egg your house” that would be a weird thing to say but it wouldn’t be racist. If he said “next time you see your car, expect the tires to be slashed” that would be a threat of malice but it wouldn’t be racist. Even if he just said “next time I see you, I’m gonna smack you” I’d be like “… ok” but the wig thing coming in was just RACIST and there’s just no excuse for that.

Especially because he keeps doing it. He keeps being “accidentally” racist which like… bro is just a racist little man. And obviously that doesn’t make him about to go commit hate crimes or whatever but it’s also like??? Come on.

and I agree when you see people committing crimes is often when the hate comes out and it’s like idk man the hate was there and let’s be real, if you need a group to be perfect not to use slurs against them then you’re just bigoted? Like yes. You get shitty Black people, and shitty Muslim people, and shitty trans people, and shitty poor people. Having a marginalized identity doesn’t make these people better people. It’s also imo prejudiced when people make excuses for shitty behaviors “because” the person committing it is marginalized. Like no that person is just shitty. Maybe they have an excuse for it but just about everyone has an excuse for the shitty things they do because almost no one goes out with the express goal of being a bad person? But that person happens to suck. Okay. Says nothing about the group as a whole 🤷🏻‍♀️🤷🏻‍♀️ People are just people.

I said this a while back out loud and this person tried to gotcha me by saying “but aren’t you anti cops and isn’t that just the excuse there that there are some bad apples” and the difference is cop is not an identity? It’s a job. And it kind of doesn’t have room for bad apples. I hadn’t seen that when I had that convo, but to quote Chris Rock again he has this whole thing about how if a number of pilots at an airline just… hated landing planes and preferred crashing them into things, we wouldn’t be like “oh no a few bad apples!!!” we’d be like “fuck that airline” and like no those people shouldn’t be pilots lol. People who like crashing planes shouldn’t be airline pilots. Maybe they can be stunt people?? Idk. Find a different job. People who like shooting people shouldn’t be cops. They should maybe be hunters? Idk. Some things should just preclude you from certain occupations. That doesn’t speak to your identity, you’re just… ill suited for that particular role in society.

which is very long and rambling but ties back to Matty and Azaelia fwiw to say that aspects of who they are as people should preclude them from a public presence. Pity. Because both are musically talented individuals. Azaelia tho fwiw hasn’t put out music in forever, I think she’s mostly just… causing shit. And it’d be okay if she was yelling into a void but people do pay attention and that sucks. And same for Matty. Like he just shouldn’t be a famous person with a platform. He’s a weird, over sensitive, shitty little man and he should be talking into a void lol.

[xaeethebaee]

Shuji x Shortcake Chapter Five

Chapter Warnings: This chapter is quite tame other than some cussing, vomiting, and Hanma being a little possessive.

Disclaimer: All characters are at least 20 years old.

A/n: The long-awaited reunion is finally here!

Word Count: 3.4k (I still don't know the purpose of this. I just see everyone else does it lol)

Chapter Five

Slowly but surely, the effects of the drug are wearing off. It has gotten weak enough which allows you to regain some of your senses although, you’re still a bit dazed. Your brain barely manages to register an odor that eerily resembles the stench of cigarettes. Your eyes crack open and through the darkness and haziness of your vision, you notice the unfamiliarity of the environment you are in.

It took some time, but you’ve regained your consciousness, immediately noticing your body wrapped in a quilt. Despite the raging headache, you wiggle your arms and legs in an attempt to set yourself free. That is proven harder than anticipated due to the residual effects of the drug. During your feeble attempt to escape, you unintentionally start rolling your body, which made you realize the tightness of the quilt loosens up a bit.

Using that revelation, you continue to roll more, not realizing the edge of the bed is quickly approaching. In no time, you fall on the floor causing you to grunt in slight pain. On the bright side, you’ve been set free by the stuffy material. Relief immediately turns into panic upon seeing that your dress has been discarded, with the only thing left on you is your underwear. Your heart shatters into pieces assuming the worst has happened to you while you were asleep.

The last thing you remember was being on the dance floor when you were drugged, and now you’ve woken up inside of a messy bedroom. Looking around, all you see are the black walls adorned by photos of landmarks from across the world, and empty bottles. Additionally, you see a black hoodie, lying next to you. Even though you’re reluctant to do so, you take the clothing and pull it over your head to cover your nude body.

All of a sudden, a loud pop was heard. The pop sounds eerily similar to a gun firing further convincing you that you are still in a dangerous environment - most likely still at the Haitani house. Hearing that made you lose more hope; therefore, the only thing you can do is continue to cry.

Your body shakes in fear as you can no longer contain your emotions. Tears flow down your cheeks like a river and things are not made any better once you feel an uncomfortable sensation in your body. That sensation stems from nausea which is hastily followed by the urge to regurgitate the toxins within your body.

Getting on your feet, your vision goes dizzy nearly making you vomit on the spot. You remain in control of your body until you spot an open door, leading into a dark area. You march to it and realized it is the bathroom which is just as messy as the bedroom, however, you do not care as getting to the toilet is your highest priority.

In no time, you lift the seat before leaning your face over the bowl. Instantly, vomit rushes out of you while one of your hands frantically pulls back strands of your hair. You are constantly gagging from the disgusting smell of alcohol mixed in with stomach acid along with partially digested food you ate prior to arriving at the party. Feeling disgusted and absolutely heartbroken from the situation you’re in, you cannot help the intense sobbing from releasing.

You’ve spent a few minutes leaning on the toilet while using the back of your hand to wipe your mouth as well as running snot. Through your cries, the urge to throw up returns. Immediately, leaning over the toilet seat, you let out more vomit, violently gagging from how nasty you feel. 

You’re a broken and emotional mess at this point as you have completely lost hope. Releasing more vomit, a few strands of your hair fall in front of your face, but before you could move it out of the way, a masculine hand does it for you. The grip on your hair tightens; however, you’re too preoccupied with vomiting out the rest of the poison from your body to say anything. That does not stop you from noticing a figure kneeling beside you. 

Constant cries leave you as your vision is blurred by tears, and you barely notice your back is being rubbed. Despite that, you gag again from trying to cough out the rest of the poison from your body. Vomit rushes out of your body once again, and this time it feels like you’ve been completely cleansed from the toxins. Clarity sets in and you take in a deep breath, in an attempt to calm your nerves.

“It’s okay, Shortcake.”

A soft yet deep voice enters your eardrums, immediately causing your heart to pump erratically. The voice was unfamiliar to you; however, it was the name the man muttered that sent sparks around your body. There was only one person in your life who called you Shortcake, and he is someone who you have not seen or heard from in more than ten years.

Regaining your composure, you slowly turned your head to face the individual that is behind you. To your surprise, a pair of soft golden orbs peer back at your e/c ones, while you swiftly recognize a familiar piece of gold jewelry dangling from his ear. 

“My necklace…?”

You croak, voice hoarse due to the constant vomiting and crying. The man pulls you into an embrace, rocking your body back and forth. Although there is a smell of cigarettes, you’ve managed to distinguish that from the familiar natural scent of the man holding you. All this combined was enough to convince you that the person whose arms are wrapped protectively around you is none other than Shuji Hanma.

“Shu?”

You ask him for confirmation, and the man just nods with a smile.

“Long time, no see, Shortcake.”

That moment of confirmation was enough to overshadow the despair you were feeling. Your arms wrap around him as you snuggle your face into his chest, crying softly. 

It has been more than a decade - more than ten years - since the last time you hugged Hanma so tightly. That same morning was the last time you saw your childhood best friend. That same friend who protected you kept you warm during the winters and told you corny jokes. He is the same friend who’d you have a teasing match with. Additionally, Shuji Hanma was someone who you trusted with your life, and he felt the same way about you.

“I’ve missed you!”

You’ve blurted out though much of it was muffled because your face is buried in his chest. Hanma nonetheless heard and understood exactly what you said; therefore, he hugs you tighter as if he is afraid you’ll be whisked away by the wind. 

“I’ve missed you too.” He says, wasting no time returning the sentiment.

It was not long before you slowly separated your face from his chest to take a breath. That is when you noticed a wet spot along with a strand of snot on the shirt Hanma is wearing. It is the same spot you had your face snuggled against as you cried. Through your soft sobs came laughter as you frantically start rubbing your hand over the spot.

“I’m so sorry, Shu! I didn’t mean to do that.”

Shuji just chuckles at how adorable you look as you try cleaning his borrowed shirt. The man just gently grabs your wrist forcing you to stop.

“It’s okay.” He says softly while rubbing his calloused thumb over your hand.

Your eyes look at Punishment that is adorning his hand. You smile to yourself as you think back to when Shuji wanted to get a tattoo to which you suggested Kanji characters. Right before you were about to reminisce with Hanma about that day and talk about his tattoo, you notice blood leaking from his arm. Your smile immediately drops and concern for him washes over your body. Shuji notices your change in demeanor as soon as it happens.

“Oh my God, Shu. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Nothing serious.”

Hanma just says, brushing off the obvious gunshot wound. He can see that you are still showing concern, so he slowly stands up. Gently, he pulls you to your feet, and then guides you to his bathroom sink. You watch as he clears off space on the sink.

“Hop on it so I can get you cleaned up.”

He demands; however, you look up at him with a confused expression. Shuji just heaves out a deep chuckle before wrapping his uninjured arm around your waist forcing you to sit on the counter. You gasp, surprised by his strength, but you only just adjusted yourself into a comfortable seated position.

While Shuji grabs clean washcloths from a nearby cabinet, you took the time to piece some things together. Firstly, you always knew Hanma was a problem child as he always got into fights, hung out with delinquent kids, and even smoke a cigarette here and there. Your brain then flashes back to just a few days ago during your night shift - that same night when your work friend invited you to the Haitani party. That man who had that chilling smile on his face when you were serving his meal was no doubt Hanma, and Hanma was sat at the table with none other than the Kanto Manji Gang. 

The realization hits you like a truck although, you are not entirely surprised by it. Hanma was not surprised either when he sees that your facial expression and body language has shifted significantly. He sees that you’ve become tenser, so he approaches you carefully. He stands in front of the sink while you’re sitting on the counter next to him, waiting on him to break the awkward silence that filled the bathroom.

The man just run both washcloths under the running warm water. After that, he hands you one of the damp washcloths with a smirk on his face.

“We got a lot to talk about.” He states in a matter-of-fact tone.

There is no doubt in Shuji’s mind that you have pieced together his involvement with Tokyo’s most dangerous gang. A foreboding emotion filled his body even when he was dabbing at the gunshot wound on his arm. Despite the sharp pain emanating from his attempt at cleaning his wound, the unnerving feeling of your reaction to his gang involvement was what made him more uncomfortable.

He is a very violent man after all. The two mutilated bodies in the downstairs guest bedroom are proof enough. Hanma also knows that he isn’t exactly ‘sane’ either. Both of these alone could be enough to scare you away from him. He wouldn’t know what to do if he lost the person he has cared about for so many years. In fact, you are just one of two people he cared about, with the other person dying not too long ago. Hanma knows he cannot let you leave his life too especially after it is so soon since you two reunited.

“Shu?” Your soft voice pierced through his ears which was enough to bring him out of his trance.

Hanma did not realize he was bestowing a dark expression on his face until you brought him back to reality. You begin to contemplate what you were about to ask him as a very important question comes to mind. What happened to you since you were drugged? Although, you believe you have a pretty good idea about what happened considering how you woke up in Hanma’s bed, naked. A part of you cannot fathom the possibility of your childhood best friend taking advantage of you like that, hence your hesitation to ask him.

Instead of anything coming out of your mouth, you just use the damp cloth in your hand to wipe your face. Your free hand hugs your other arm in a self-soothing manner as you fight to hold back more tears from coming out. You did not even notice your body shaking due to your state of mind.

“You didn’t get raped.” Shuji suddenly says with a blank face, catching you off guard.

You quickly look at him with disbelieving eyes. There is no other explanation as to why you’d wake up naked after being drugged. You shake your head, allowing more tears to flow from your eyes. Scared, you start speaking with a shaky voice:

“Shu, I-”

“I made sure nothing happened to you.” Hanma cuts you off.

Both of you are locked in a fierce staring contest. The words you want to speak are trapped in your throat upon seeing the earnest look on his face. It’s been years, but you remember that face. It’s rare when Shuji Hanma is serious about something, and this moment is no different.

“I got to you just before anything happened.”

The man reassures, leaning closer to you. His Sin hand caresses your cheek using his thumb to wipe the tears flowing down it. Hanma couldn’t help but gaze at your quivering lips before looking back into your e/c eyes. The room is silent but a thick mist of tension fills the air as you two continue to stare each other down. Your mind is still in somewhat of a haze because of the turn of events from tonight and the same can be said about Hanma. 

“Shortcake?”

He calls for you in a low growl, sending shivers down your spine and between your legs.

“Yea, Shu?” You answer back, making him feel the same sensation.

There is another long pause as you anticipate what the tall man is about to say. He just smiles softly while leaning even closer to your face. You prepare for what is about to come, even closing your eyes in the process. Unintentionally, your lips pucker.

Hanma presses his lips against yours sending sparks throughout his body. For so long, he has been wanting to kiss you, but he never had the chance to do it. Now you’re right in front of him, in a vulnerable position. He couldn’t contain himself, especially after feeling so much joy after officially reuniting with you. He’s been watching you from afar for far too long, and he wanted - needed - to be with his best friend again. He wanted - needed - you in his arms again. 

Your hands feel his toned chest as he deepens the kiss. Your repressed emotions are finally spilling out once you let out a quick whimper. Hanma wastes no time sliding his tongue into your mouth. His free hand rub on your thigh, feeling your soft s/c skin against his rough fingers.

All of a sudden, loud knocking is heard from Hanma’s bedroom door. The knocking is quickly followed up by a rough tone of voice:

“HANMA! GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OUT HERE!”

The loud noise startles both of you. Hanma separates from you before letting out a chuckle. He pats your head as you have a look of worry and fear.

“Don’t be alarmed. It’s just Shion Madarame. He’s harmless.”

Shuji says as he finishes cleaning up his gunshot wound while Shion continues to bang on the door. The man then goes back into his bedroom before opening the door, finding a feisty Shion on the other side.

“Mikey needs you down in the basement. We’re about to interrogate that woman.” He says.

“Why? We already know she’s part of Brahman. What more information do we need?” Hanma rhetorically asks.

“There were reports that she came here with another woman. That woman is nowhere to be seen AND the guards confirmed that she didn’t leave here.”

Hanma just laughs, knowing the woman Shion is referring to is you. His laughter just annoys the light-haired man, prompting him to breathe out in rage.

“Wow. So angry.” Hanma gaslights and he resumes his laughter.

From the bathroom, you can vaguely hear the conversation going on between Hanma and the other man. Curious, you get down from the sink before poking your head out of the room. You notice Shuji is engaged in a conversation with another man, who looks unhappy. That man, spot you spying.

“So that’s what you’ve been up to?!”

The man asks Shuji with an annoyed tone. He turns around and looks at you with a soft yet amused expression. He then looks back at Shion.

“Yea. We’re getting cleaned up, now leave. I’ll be down there in a few.”

Hanma tries shutting the door but the man on the other side stops it with his hand that is adorned with brass knuckles.

“She matches the description of the woman that came here with the Brahman bitch. You’re harboring a person of interest.”

You can practically feel the dangerous aura radiating from that man Shuji is talking to. You sink back into the bathroom but Hanma’s demanding voice stops you.

“Shortcake? Come here.”

Although reluctant, you emerge from the bathroom and slowly made your way to the door. Your anxiety starts to spike once again realizing this is another member of the Kanto Manji Gang that you’ll be facing. Despite this man being shorter than Hanma, he looks more intimidating to you. As soon as you arrive at the door, you mostly hide behind Hanma’s body as you can feel the other man’s gaze searing through your skin.

“This is Shion. As I said, he is harmless. And Shion, this is Y/n. She’s harmless too.” Hanma introduces you two.

There is a moment of silence before Shion crosses his arms.

“She came here with that Brahman bitch.”

Hearing those words reminded you about your work friend. Since seeing her with Ran Haitani, you haven’t heard anything about her. Your mind starts thinking of the worst that may have occurred, so you’re once again filled with concern.

“Shortcake, do you have any involvement with Brahman?”

The black and blonde-haired man asks, catching you off guard. You’re confused as you’ve never heard of Brahman before; therefore, you truthfully answer ‘no’.

“There. You got the answer you needed.”

Hanma tries closing the door again but Shion blocks it, this time more aggressively.

“Fuck that! You’re just gonna take her word for it!?” He asks.

“Yea.”

Came Hanma’s plain response, reinforcing the fact that Hanma fully trusts you, so it was easy to believe you.

“Mikey would never accept that! We need her down there too!”

The smile on Hanma’s face fades away slightly, showing that he too is getting annoyed. He puts his arm over your shoulders in a protective manner.

“I have every reason to believe she has zero involvement with Brahman.”

“Where’s the proof?” Shion asks, grinding his teeth in frustration.

Hanma’s smile has completely faded away and it is replaced by a glare. He stares down Shion Madarame with killing intent.

“Either you bring her downstairs so Mikey can question her or I’ll call him and tell him that you are harboring her in your room. You know that means he’ll come up here with his coke-addict henchman Sanzu, and they’ll retrieve her by any means necessary.” Shion threatens.

“Fucking snitch.” Hanma curses.

Shion just smiles knowing he has forced Shuji into a compromising position. The taller man thinks over the options given to him. Neither of them is ideal; however, one is remarkably worse than the other. The last thing he wants is for you to be this close to the rest of the Kanto Manji Gang - not because of how ruthless they are. His possessiveness wouldn’t cope with the idea of you being around them knowing the possibilities of how the other guys would act towards you.

On one hand, bringing you down of your own volition could be the best option as it’ll lead Mikey and the rest of the guys to believe you aren’t a threat. That means they’ll see you as no other than some whore - or worse, an innocent friend they can attach to. On the other hand, having Sanzu drag you downstairs will cast unneeded suspicion on you. That will cause them to think you are a threat, which could lead to you being killed or used as a slave. It did not take long for Shuji to decide.

“Fine. I’ll bring her down there to meet everyone else after we get cleaned up.” He begrudgingly agrees.

“Good. I’ll meet you there.” Shion just smirks before taking a longing look at you.

Hanma swiftly notices his lingering stare, taking the opportunity to hastily slam the door in his face. Both of you listen to Shion’s fading footsteps until he is no longer around. That allowed you to release a breath that you did not know you were holding.

Looking down at you, Hanma just smiled before asking in a fake enthusiastic tone:

“Ready to meet the rest of the Kanto Manji Gang?”

He asks you, causing your heart to sink into your stomach. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[If you're wondering why Hanma wasn't hesitant to introduce Reader to Shion, it is because Hanma thinks Shion is too pathetic to pose a threat.]

A/n: I'll be taking a short break as I have another story (A super Smutty one) with Draken that I really want to write. If you want to be on the taglist for that one, just let me know.

Taglist:

@510hz @reiners-milkbiddies @sleeplessreader

[letitiaslabyrinth]

GRIEF

warnings: grief, family death, angst

word count: 1175

A/N: this is exactly after Ramonda's death. Shuri never became black Panther and never fought Namor. no header for this one cause i really dont have the time lol. and ik i've been gone for a few days but my phone literally shut off on me and it still hasn't turned on so i gotta use my computer for now.

After Ramonda's death, Shuri had distanced herself from the world. She didn't show up when Riri had tried to get her out of the palace with an invite to Chicago. She didn't celebrate her mother's birthday as its day got closer and closer, she didn't celebrate T'Chala's nor her father's. She stayed in her room all day. She barely ate, if she even did, and people around started to notice. 

Okoye and Aneka were the first two to try and help Shuri through her depression. They tried bringing her food and drinks but when they would come back, said food items would be the same way they left them. They tried bringing her games she could play but, again, she didn't use them. Their last attempt was to spend time with her, but that didn't work either. That was the first time in months that Okoye and Aneka had heard Shuri's voice and it was to tell them to get out. Of course they didn't give up at first but when Shuri started locking her door, they really didn't have a choice but to stay out.

The second person was Nakia. Trying to reach out and help Shuri was more difficult for her since she had moved back to Haiti to be with Toussaint. Shuri answered Nakia's call once to keep her from worrying but that didn't work seeing as how she didn't answer any more calls. Nakia ended up having to reach out to Okoye to check in Shuri but when they were both shut out, they gave up.

Shuri hears footsteps outside her room door before the person knocks. She doesn't answer them and they can't get in since her doors locked.

"Shuri?" 

Shuri sits up slowly. She breathes in deeply and unlocks the door. "Why're you here?" Her voice is low and raspy, surprising both of them. It had been a while since Shuri had actually said something out loud.

"I heard you weren't doing so good so I came to check on you," Riri says. She's worried. Shuri can see it all over her face and hear it in her voice but she doesn’t want to be a burden.

"I'm fine, Riri." 

Riri stays silent for a minute and looks at Shuri. She’s lost weight. A lot of weight. She's wearing sweatpants and a hoodie but you can tell by the way it hangs off her body.

"Let me help you." Riri holds out her hand. Shuri blinks before taking it, opening her door and letting Riri lead her into her bathroom. She sits Shuri down on the toilet seat while she starts the bath, making sure the water wasn’t too cold or too hot. "Do you want me to help you or should I leave?"

Shuri shakes her head. "Don't leave, please."

Riri nods and gets Shuri to stand up. "Put your hands up for me." She helps Shuri out of her hoodie and sweats and slowly sits her down into the water. 

Shuri holds her legs to her chest while Riri washes her back, neck, and sides. "Shuri, I need you to let go of yourself for me. I need to wash the rest of you." And she does. Riri washes her hair last before rinsing her body and helping her stand so she could be dried. She walks Shuri to her bedroom and sits her on the bed. "Anything specific you wanna wear?"

"Doesn't matter," Shuri says, her voice quiet.

After Shuri changes, Riri helps her to the living room and helps her sit down while she tries to make something for Shuri to eat. There wasn't much to choose from, seeing as how everything that was in the cabinets were either expired or close to it. Riri took out a box of Ziti Pasta and checked the fridge for any milk. She smelled it to make sure it wasn't spoiled and took it out.

"Shuri, I'm gonna make you pasta, alright? That sound good?" she doesn't get an answer back but she knows she was heard.

Riri brings two plates to the coffee table in front of Shuri. The TV's on and much to Riri's surprise, Shuri's awake. 

"You think you'll be able to eat?"Riri hands Shuri her plate.

"Doesn't hurt to try." She shrugs and picks up her fork. She’s still tired but she tries her best to give Riri a friendly smile as a show of gratitude.

It had been a few weeks since Riri's first visit and things had been looking up for Shuri since she let herself be taken care of. There were days when Shuri would feel proud of herself for the amount of progress she's made but then there were times—days, sometimes even weeks, where something would trigger about her family and she'd go back to her depressive state of mind and the progress she and Riri had been proud of would be gone.

It was tough on Shuri to actually let herself heal. It took so much out of her not to break down whenever she left her apartment for a meeting with the council. At first whenever she went into the throne room, memories of what happened to her Mother and Riri would come crashing into her brain but with Riri by her side now to keep her level-headed, she stopped thinking about it when it came down to business. Of course she couldn’t just forget how her Mother died and how she couldn’t do anything but watch but she knew she had been in hiding for far too long and the last thing she wanted people to say about her is that she was weak.

Sometimes, Shuri would go days without sleeping and not even realize until Riri made it known to her. For Shuri the days blurred together. Sure, she saw when the sun rose and went down but that didn’t mean she would get tired. She would either spend her days in the lab or in her bedroom listening to music and rocking herself side to side in comfort. Shuri had tried her best to make sure she didn’t get trapped in her bed again. She knew how hard it was when everything first started and to have to go through all of that again wasn’t something she wanted. 

Shuri was 21 when her Mother died. She’s 24 now and she’s still making it one step at a time. She’s healthy, she’s in therapy and has been for the past few months since she realized that she hasn’t been making any mental progress since Riri started helping her. 

Shuri let M’Baku take the throne and become the black panther so she could focus on herself. She needed to heal fully. She knew that. She knew she couldn’t do that if her focus was on her country and fighting and everything else beside her peace of mind.

[do-not-pursue-the-beast]

To hold me in your arms, is to hold me steady

imagine writing this all in the timeframe of about an hour, then it doesn’t get beta-read, couldn’t be me

Alright so basically I was bored and decided that I was gonna try like a prompt generator for a Wesper sickfic that was meant to be a drabble, except I took creative liberty, so that’s what this is. Enjoy.

Word Count: 446 words

(!!!tw for mentions of sickness!!!!!)

Prompt: In the middle of the night, Wylan wakes up to find Jesper not next to them. Wylan grows even more concerned as they hear Jesper retching violently.

—————————————————————————————

It wasn’t unusual that one of them woke up late at night, but usually the other one was in bed when that happened. So when Wylan woke up, and Jesper wasn’t next to him, he knew something was wrong.

That was when he heard a loud groan coming from their bathroom. He rubbed his eyes, walking over to the noise, silent as possible; what he saw was definitely not what he expected, however.

Wylan saw Jesper, elbows rested on the toilet bowl, head in his hands, his usual electricity replaced by a feverish static. He knelt down next to Jesper, not even sure if the sharpshooter heard him from the doorway. Tentatively, Wylan put his hand on his back, causing Jesper to whip his head around.

At first, Wylan removed his hand, although as soon as he did, Jesper slowly leaned back onto his chest, the static dulled into a low buzzing. He laid a palm over his forehead, feeling only a low temperature. He squirmed, not attempting to get away from the hand, but to get back up back to the toilet bowl.

“Too warm” he murmured, which Wylan assumed to mean how he felt to Jesper, who laid his head down on the cool porcelain.

Not long after, shallow breaths collected into his system, and he clutched his stomach. Wylan leaned forward to rub his shoulder, whispering small “It’s okay”’s and “You’re okay”’s into his ear. After around a minute of this, Jesper retched into the bowl, his hands trembling all the while.

A cycle similar to this continued for an hour more, before Wylan pulled away to grab a bowl, medicine and a washcloth, coaxing Jesper back to bed soon after.

“You’ll feel better if you do, you know you will”

Jesper groaned, his hands still shaking, before Wylan grabbed said hand and pulled him to his feet, laying that arm around his shoulder.

He was much taller than Wylan, but they managed. Wylan lied him down in bed and went back to wet the washcloth, fetching a glass of water while at it. He placed the washcloth on the taller’s head, leaving medicine and water on the dresser, and bowl next to the bed. Whlan stayed sitting up until Jesper fell asleep, rubbing the others stomach, laying off when he felt sick again.

anyway, how was that?? I don’t really know if I characterized them quite right, but I tried lol. any thoughts, anyone?

[0tivez]

what are the chances of you making more being roommates with the jjk men? i love all your headcanons!!

being roommates with the jjk men part 2

note: very high, anon! glad you liked them, thanks for the request! this is kind of a continuation of part 1, so all the romantic ones will be built up on it

warnings: gender neutral reader, implied nsfw

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, toji

<- navigation

gojo

⁜ leaves crumbs all over the house

⁜ you try to take a shower right after he does cause his body wash smells so nice and it makes you feel like you're in a spa lol pervert

⁜ has a 15 minute skin care routine lol

⁜ the moment you step in the bathroom, he will wait by your door like a cat and tell you to hurry up cause you have been in there for too long

⁜ leaves his room's door open

⁜ acts like he can't cook so you can cook for him or even better, 'teach' him

⁜ against doing laundries. why bother when you can buy clean clothes?

⁜ goes shopping, comes back with everything except for what you asked him to buy

⁜ buys you snacks he thinks you'd like

⁜ tries to be quiet after coming home from a mission late at night. he kinda wishes you were waiting for him every time

⁜ gets worried if you're not home by sundown

⁜ if you feel down, he comforts you with films and snacks. if you want to be alone, he will leave you alone, unlike any other time.

⁜ comes home and yells "honeeey, i'm home!"

⁜ i'm pretty sure at one point, you both would agree on being friends with benefits. how could you stand not touching this man while being with him 24/7?

⁜ he makes you feel really good, too

⁜ it's fun, you both feel more comfortable around each other now

⁜ first one to fall in love lol

⁜ won't admit it, will act like you were just one of his side hoes

⁜ and while it was true in the beginning, he stopped seeing others after a while

⁜ was surprised to learn you didn't have anyone else except for him

⁜ "you don't sleep with other people?"

⁜ "don't need to. you provide enough satisfaction for me."

⁜ 6 words to make a man fall for you i guess

⁜ his heart went 💘

⁜ started taking you out on 'nameless dates' aka he wouldn't tell you it was a date but it was

⁜ and you didn't know, of course

⁜ to you, it was just hanging out

⁜ till he kissed you in one of those dates

⁜ "uhh... what was that?"

⁜ "a...kiss?"

⁜ "yeah but for what?" jfc just admit you love him too

⁜ "do you want me to explain what a kiss is? see, when two people fall in love-"

⁜ "in love?"

⁜ "aaah... i meant that as in... y'know... birds n bees and stuff just out of-"

⁜ a kiss should shut him up good

⁜ "tell me more about those birds and bees, please."

geto

⁜ if he runs late, he will text you. he expects the same from you

⁜ shares his pantry with you

⁜ stopped cleaning his room at 3 am lol

⁜ you both live in a quiet neighborhood and your walls are thin (hence why cleaning his room at 3 am bothered you) so thin that sometimes, if you listen closely, you can hear geto's heavy breathing in his sleep

⁜ omg he once was asleep in front of the tv when you came home, he looked adorable

⁜ like

⁜ his hand was on his chin, leaning slightly to his right. cheek all squished, mouth open and brows furrowed

⁜ of course you took a picture

⁜ so dumb when he wakes up

⁜ cannot understand shit for like an hour or so

⁜ probably even falls asleep on the toilet

⁜ extremely jealous of your male friends, including his friends whom you're also close with (ahem gojo ahem)

⁜ you ONCE made the mistake of stopping by to grab something with a male friend and geto BURIED him in the ground

⁜ "thought you would have decent looking friends not gonna lie"

⁜ "why do you care?"

⁜ "i don't, just thinking out loud"

⁜ avoids you a lot, even after getting close

⁜ you try talking to him but he cuts you off quickly, just like how you were from the start

⁜ "whatever"

⁜ it's basically the same shit from when you two first moved in together

⁜ he brings lots of girls over. he tells you before tho

⁜ two can play that game geto

⁜ moaning race KSKDSAMWEDLKCSMEDWKCFSDEKWFN who makes the loudest noise

⁜ i mean... geto's competitive, he wants to win this

⁜ "you're pathetic, suguru"

⁜ "is that so?"

⁜ "yeah. can't even make someone scream properly"

⁜ "i didn't hear a single whine from your side, darling"

⁜ "i know how to make the right noises!"

⁜ "yeah? why don't you show me then?"

⁜ LOTS of complaints from your neighbors that night

nanami

⁜ made you breakfast the morning after

⁜ apologized for his inappropriate behavior

⁜ "i think it would be better for us to forget about last night"

⁜ "oh... is that... what you want?"

⁜ "don't you... want it?"

⁜ "i... i liked it. last night, i mean. i was wondering if you felt the same, too."

⁜ ah basically you are now a married couple lol

⁜ nanami is so sweet, he takes his time to get to know you better

⁜ you both sleep in your own rooms unless things get spicier. it's better for you both to have your own space

⁜ there are times... when you can't really make it to your room from nanami's

⁜ long baths together

⁜ aftercare aftercare aftercare

⁜ likes receiving shoulder massages after work

⁜ likes taking you out to dinner

⁜ this man will put a ring on your finger eventually

⁜ once you realized you stopped spending time in your room and ⁜ mostly slept with nanami, you both decorated your old room with big bookshelves and made it a small, cute office/hobby room

⁜ your young, sexy neighbor would often hit on nanami

⁜ okay now look

⁜ you two come back from a walk or something. nanami's checking your mails inside the apartment complex while you stand by him, checking your phone. your neighbor approaches you two and starts to flirt with nanami, not even looking at you (she never liked you anyways)

⁜ nanami responds dryly, just like he always did

⁜ "so, mr nanami, what have you been up to lately?"

⁜ "you see," nanami turns to you and gently grabs your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. "we have been renovating our house"

⁜ the neighbor looks horrified while you give her an evil grin, grabbing on to nanami's thick, juicy biceps

⁜ "ah, that so?" she asks

⁜ "yeah, my room was getting useless so we're turning it into an office"

⁜ she never made a move on nanami again lol

toji

⁜ ahem we left at decency right

⁜ yeah this man

⁜ you couldn't walk the next morning

⁜ he doesn't really care if you sleep in his room

⁜ i mean, you try not to but most of the time, it's impossible not to

⁜ no relationship, just fucking

⁜ it's good, great even but still... the ambiguity kills you

⁜ he doesn't bring women home but he does still not come home at times

⁜ does he sleep with others?

⁜ would that be cheating?

⁜ so you sat him down to talk with him

⁜ "whatever ya want, doll"

⁜ "...really?"

⁜ he's an okay partner

⁜ he doesn't change much from his old roommate self

⁜ cuddling in front of the tv

⁜ "bring me a beer will ya?" before saying hello

⁜ would go crazy if you were to open the door with a maid dress on

⁜ he wouldn't let you go for 2 days KWDSKLMSWELKMSKWLEDM

⁜ walks in the bathroom while you're taking a shower and hops in

⁜ quickies before he leaves for work

⁜ loves having you sleeping on his bare chest

⁜ lets you be the big spoon sometimes

⁜ can't say no to you at all

⁜ wants you to dress sexy if you're going out with him. would prefer if you left the house with a potato sack dress on if he wasn't set to come with you

⁜ commitment issues but it doesn't bother you, so not bothering him with your 'what are we? will we ever get married?' typa stuff makes him more comfortable with you

⁜ slow sex. not something he's used to or even something he would think of doing, but he seems to enjoy it with you. just taking his time, looking into your eyes and feeling your soft breath on his skin

⁜ still not doing chores lol

gonna go sleep now and imagine nanami holding me by my waist to make a sexy woman jealous. see ya ( ͡❛ ᴗ ͡❛)

[jxstadaydreamer]

dinner is served 🔞

(gif from this post @heybabyshae)

Pairing: Park Chanyeol x F.Reader

Word count: 815 words

Genre: Smut

Summary: You're waiting for your boyfriend to come home to decide what you should have for dinner but he has other ideas.

Warnings: (1) Spank, Oral (f. receiving), Pussy Eating King Chanyeol needs a warning all on his own (lol)

Author's note: I have something exciting coming next week to celebrate Yeolvember! So keep an eye out for that. Meanwhile, enjoy this little piece 😉

You’ve had a long day. Nothing bad really happened, you’re just glad it’s over. As soon as you got home, you took a nice, long hot shower and slipped on your favourite t-shirt of Chanyeol’s. It still smells like him and it always makes you feel a little better.

You flop onto your bed, laying on your tummy and lazily scrolling through your social media feeds. You should probably look for something to eat but you know he’ll be home soon. You can never decide what you want to eat anyways so you’ll just let him pick. The man’s always got some sort of cravings.

After a while, you hear the front door open as he hurriedly drops his bag and kicks his shoes off so he can run to the toilet. You can’t help but laugh to yourself. Will he ever learn to not scull his entire drink before leaving? He’s truly just an overgrown child sometimes, one of his many endearing traits.

Once you hear the toilet flush, you can hear his footsteps coming towards the room but it stops somewhere near the doorway. Confused, you look over your shoulder to see what’s going on.

“Yeol?”

“Wow.”

You tilt your head questioning his answer as he starts making his way over to you. He drops to his knees beside the bed.

“I always love coming home to you but this.. This is just.. Wow.”

“What are you on about?” you giggle.

You look back at where his eyes are glued to and realise the t-shirt you’re wearing had ridden up, generously revealing your plump cheeks. And the fact that you had chosen to forgone any undergarments.

He gives your ass a smack before rubbing it and pulling you towards the edge of the bed, causing you to yelp. He’s angled you so he’s in his favourite place in the world, in between your legs. As he hooks his arms around your thighs and presses his face against your folds. He uses his thumbs to spread them apart and he flattens his tongue to lick up a long stripe, humming in satisfaction.

“I’m not sure if you’ve had dinner yet baby, but mine is right here.”

His words bring out a feral moan from you as he begins lapping at your pussy like a man starved. He suddenly flips you over and swiftly returns his mouth to your core, using his tongue to swirl slow, sensual circles around your clit. He starts picking up the pace and one of your hands flies to his head, holding it in place as the other comes to begin massaging your breasts, thumb and index pinching at your nipple. Chanyeol circles a finger around your entrance, coating it in your arousal before slowly pushing it in, already knowing exactly where to reach. You gasp at the sudden intrusion and moan louder, letting him know he was doing everything right. He keeps you that way for God knows how long, doing just enough to keep you in a blissful state but not quite enough to reach your peak. He knows your body too well.

Chanyeol decides to add another finger, thrusting them in and out of you. He feels you clenching around his fingers and groans, the vibration just adding to the pleasure you were feeling. He adds yet another and flattens his tongue, shaking his head side to side and undoubtedly getting messier. Covering his face in your arousal. The thought of how he looked right now was so hot you couldn’t resist lifting your head to try and get a glimpse of him, only to see his dark eyes already watching you and how your body was reacting to him. Body twitching as you got closer and closer to your climax.

“Cum for me baby, cum hard,” he commands, voice octaves lower than his usual.

His lips close around your clit, sucking before they open up enough for his pointed tongue to flick rapidly across it. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out loud, both hands flying to tug onto his tresses and hold him where he was. Body spasming uncontrollably. He held your hips down with his free arm while his fingers and mouth continued working you, helping you ride out your high. Once he felt you go limp, he removed his fingers and put them straight into his mouth. He groaned at the taste and brought his mouth back to your pussy to lap up the rest of your essence, not leaving a single drop.

When you started to flinch from the sensitivity, you pulled him up to kiss you and taste yourself on his tongue. You pushed him onto his back and he was momentarily stunned. But he smirked when he saw you taking the position he had just been in.

“Now that you’re full, it’s time for me to have my dinner.”

[saeyoungs-angel]

⨳​ nausea — naruto

starring. kakashi & you

plot. you get sick but kakashi's there for you.

genre. fluff, sickfic

cw. mentions of sickness, vomiting (not detailed), cussing

notes. im not ecstatic with this one but im proud that its longer than my previous things, wrote it cause i was feelin ill lol hope u like it and sorry for no post yesterday, this was in the works <3

likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated! <3

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nausea shrouds your abdomen in another wave of pain, forcing you to throw yourself out of bed and into the dimly lit bathroom of kakashi's apartment complex. if you had known you'd get sick this weekend, you would've stayed home as to not help it spread.

alas, your overprotective partner made you promise to stay put before he left this morning, stating that as soon as he's back he'll pamper the hell out of you like you deserve. that was an hour ago, tears now pricking your eyes as your stomach does unbearable twists just to spite you.

you draw in a breath, cursing yourself as hunger gnaws at your thoughts; nausea doesn't make eating ideal, after all. groaning softly, you use the rest of your strength to make a quick trip to the kitchen, hoping to discover something small yet tasty.

rummaging through the fridge, you grow irritated at the sickly feeling crawling up your spine. irritated that you can't shake it, irritated that it had to be you, and even more irritated that it had to be in kakashi's apartment of all places.

you just felt so, gross and icky, you hated the idea of him coming home to this. shoving your thoughts away, you spot a small container of your favorite ice cream tucked in the back of the freezer. if you won't be able to keep it down, might as well eat what you want, right?

as you reach for the drawer containing utensils, the doorknob jiggles down the hall. you wait a moment, stunned that your lover could be home so soon, let alone to find you angrily raiding his kitchen. once you hear the creak of the front door accompanied by the gentle slam that comes after, your mood skyrockets.

the ice cream is sadly forgotten as you dart for kakashi in desperate need of comfort. your eyes light up at the sight of him when you round the corner, messy hair and mask included, before you notice him facing the door.

his keys clank as he attempts to lock it, and without warning you stumble into his taller frame, tightly wrapping your arms around his torso from the back. you hear a noise of shock escape him at the sudden affection.

“missed you..” you mumble, words muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. kakashi glances over his shoulder in worry before extracting the key from it's slot, placing it on the hook beside his head as quick as he can. he loosens your grip on him, worrying him further as he feels how weak you've become.

“are you feeling alright?” his words are as soft as they can be, yet you glare up at him once he shifts to face you in your arms. he returns your glare with a pout, though if you weren't as close as you are, you wouldn't be able to tell with his mask covering half his features.

you bury your head back into his chest, tightening your grip on him as he sways you both side to side soothingly. gently rubbing your back, guilt begins to seep into his thoughts at your somewhat lethargic behavior.

“if i'd known it was this bad, i wouldn't have left. you know it hurts me to see you upset, (y/n).” regret laces his voice as you immediately speak up to shut it down.

“ah-ah! things like me just being sick shouldn't hinder your everyday tasks, we've talked about this..” your face holds a playfully stern look before it twists into painfully furrowed brows. you swiftly release your boyfriend, dashing straight for the restroom.

you register him call your name, rather disquiet about your actions. hopefully he doesn't tail me is all you can think, lurching above the toilet with a hand preventing your hair from getting in the way.

after the bout of sickness diminishes, you decide to brush your teeth due to the awful texture coating your tastebuds. as you go to spit, a knock resounds on the bathroom door.

“baby..? open up.” the delicacy in his words doesn't go unnoticed, your lips twitching upward at the thought of him so worried over something so simple.

in silence, you reach over and unlock the door, toothbrush still brushing away. you glance at your lover to find his mask has been removed and a gentle smile rests on his face, shutting the door behind him.

you rinse out your mouth with water, finally placing the toothbrush back where it belongs when you notice what kakashi carries with him.

“is that..?”

“the necklace you couldn't stop thinking about? yeah, it is.” his answer is nonchalant with a chuckle following suit, yet the blush that creeps on your cheeks insinuates that the sweet gesture is nothing short of unexpected.

you watch in adoration as he separates the minute set of silver chains from the box it came in, eyes flickering to meet yours a couple times. is he nervous?

wordlessly, he sets the box onto the counter in front of you before placing the necklace around your neck gracefully, his own cheeks now tinted slightly pink.

“kakashi i—”

he cuts you off, offering you a small pill bottle adorning a pale child-safe cap.

“i also got you some medicine.. its suppose to help with nausea but its said to make you sleepy, so i figured we could take a nap or something. i may have gotten you a teddy bear, too...” the last sentence is hushed, but you hear it nonetheless.

your eyes begin to water as your love for the man behind you cannot grow anymore. that whole time he was away this morning, was for you?

in a burst of positive emotions, you spin around to face him with a smile and happy tears.

“hey, why are you—” before he can assure you theres no reason to cry, you embrace him as tightly as you can. you know your words will fail you if you try and get your affection across that way, so actions are second best right?

kakashi says nothing but gently runs a hand through your hair, praying that the smile you wore meant all good things.

you pull back ever-so-slightly, just enough to take in his beautiful features without a mask. you knew he removed it in hopes of cheering you up, so of course you had to savor it. with sore cheeks from the intensity of your grin, you connect your lips with his.

it isn't often you can kiss him without having to pull his mask down, and now is a perfect time to say thank you. the kiss is slow and delicate, almost as if kakashi was afraid to push further, worried for your sick and fragile frame.

you pull away abruptly, slapping a palm across your mouth, mumbling;

“shit, i probably just got you sick.”

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