#i always post at such odd hours honestly

[goddamnitmahtin]

Damian’s Babysitter

This is a sequel to this post. Since it was actually based on a wild dream I had, I figured I’de add more.

Danny and Wes found the gala boring as all hell. Almost immediately after showing up, they were sent to off to the “kids room.” Were Danny and Wes full on adults? Yes. But apparently rich people don’t want to look at you if you don’t have access to money they can convince you to give them. Which honestly, fair. Danny and Wes didn’t want to look at the rich people either.

Danny and Wes walked into the room filled with discarded children and found a sofa to sit on. It wasn’t like they were going to actually try to mingle with these children. Most of them were very clearly going to be mean. Most of them that weren’t too young to hold a conversation with were standing around on little cliques gossiping to each other about each other. It was like if you took all of the pettiest 5th graders in the entire state and put them into one room.

“I still can’t believe we are doing this,” Danny said, groaning. This entire thing was such bullshit. The entire atmosphere felt so fake.

“Lucky for us, I brought my laptop so we can just game until it’s time to leave,” Wes said, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“Oohhh so that’s why you brought a purse,” Danny said, poking fun at the style of the bag. It was duty of a cousin to be a menace after all.

“It is not a purse!” Wes said, laughing. He gave Danny a playful shove before opening the computer and pulling up the game library. All of the games on the laptop were single player so they were going to have to take turns. Danny told Wes to go ahead and go first.

“Daniel Fenton,” said a child’s voice. One that he recognized.

Danny looked up from the computer and smiled, “Damian! What are you doing here bud?”

The child scoffed as if Danny were stupid, “I am here with my father. What are you doing here? You aren’t a part of Gotham’s elite.”

Danny had babysat Damian plenty of times in Metropolis when his father had odd work hours. Never once did he even consider that Bruce was from Gotham. Or part of it’s elite. Danny had always gotten paid well and it was a nice gig so he never really asked questions. But now that he thought of it, if Damian lived in Gotham, why did he want a babysitter in Metropolis?

Wes shoved Danny in the rib, “Danny- I think this kid is-”

“I’m here as a favor to a friend,” Danny said, ignoring the dull pain in his ribs, “Sam Manson.”

The child nodded, “Yes, I know Sam. She is not as pathetic as the other elite spawn.”

Danny laughed, “I agree.”

“Wait, how do you two even know each other? And how come he gets to call you Daniel?,” Wes asked. He had paused his game and was looking back and forth between Danny and Damian.

“Oh this is Damian! I babysit him every once in a while,” Danny sad gesturing to the young boy.

“Yes, when my father has work in Metropolis, I request to spend that time with Daniel when I am not needed,” Damian stated matter of factly, he crossed his arms looking proud of himself as he said, “I gained the right to refer to him as Daniel by proving myself in hand to hand combat.”

Wes gave Danny a look and Danny just shrugged, “He wanted to spar, who was I to say no? The kid has moves and I respect that.”

Danny smiled proudly and so did Damian at the acknowledgment of his fighting prowess. Wes just looked at Danny like he was the stupidest person in the world.

Wes’ judgement didn’t last long as a discord call started to ring on his laptop. Danny watched as his face flushed before answering. He was about to ask who it was but before he could, he heard a crash and then Damian’s voice.

“HEY!”

Then another voice unapologetically, “Sorry! Haha!”

Danny looked to see if Damian was alright just to see him holding a platter like a frisbee one one hand and using the other to flip someone across the room the bird, “Fuck you Tim!” (not really)

[drunkinyourbenz]

୨ৎ sweet girl. b.e

୨ৎ roomate!billie eilish x fem!reader

୨ৎ genre: smut

୨ৎ content: SUB TOP BILLIE EVERYONE CHEER !! umm praise kink, begging, she's so so so desperate and lowkey a loser but we love her for it, oral (r recieving), anyway i love this so much please please please read it, possibly gonna have another part (or many)

୨ৎ note: you're welcome <3 (this fic serves as an apology for the angst fic i posted the other day) happy new year my loves <3

billie was your roommate, and she had been for a little over a year now. you got along well, and if you were asked, you'd probably say you were friends. she was easy to talk to and easy to live with.

she did tend to get jealous whenever you had your hookups, which happened a lot more often than you'd like to admit. you were single, but people always showed momentary interest in you at the parties you went to.

you always assumed her dislike towards the people you hooked up with was just annoyance at the noise or something; you never thought much of it. what you didn't know was that she had the biggest crush on you, and wanted nothing more than to drag you away from the many hookups and keep you all to herself.

everyone who knew billie knew she was obsessed with you. she wasn’t subtle about it, you were just infuriatingly oblivious. her eyes always landed on you, whether you were in class together, having a movie night, or simply in passing. she didn’t think she’d ever had a crush so…all-consuming before. and with how oblivious you were, it was honestly infuriating.

but she didn't do anything impulsive—somehow. she wanted everything that happened between the two of you to be perfect.

a shift in the trajectory of your relationship with her seemed to be approaching, however. you'd been at a party—something that didn't surprise her. you were… making the most of your college years, to say the least.

when you got home, she took one look at the outfit you wore—taking in the way the fabric hung from your body and the way your makeup looked so immaculate despite having been at a party for hours. her mind ran wild as she looked you up and down.

she felt like a lovesick fool, and for a moment, she understood why her friends called her a loser.

she was so caught up in taking in your gorgeous appearance when she saw you walk past towards your room, that it took her a moment to comprehend who was following you.

a girl. some girl from the party. maybe a sorority girl, maybe someone from one of your classes, maybe someone you'd only just met. either way, she hated it. she hated that you were so blind that you couldn't see what was right in front of you—her.

you and the girl were such an odd pairing together, billie thought. you were way out of her league. sure, the girl was pretty, but there was pretty and then there was you pretty. in billie’s mind, no one was prettier than you.

your new hookup's prettiness aside, she clearly didn't care about you. she was there to fuck and then leave, and billie hated that. you could so easily get any girl you wanted, and you could get them to treat you right. but for a reason billie couldn't quite understand, you preferred these meaningless hookups.

billie's eyes trailed behind you as you led the girl into your room. you knew you were going to get a pretty average hookup out of her, but a hookup nonetheless.

just as you closed your door and the girl sat down on your bed, billie reopened the door and walked inside. what came out of her mouth was a blatant lie, but the girl didn't know that.

"hey, sorry girl. we actually have guests coming over, you might have to leave." her voice was dripping with fake politeness as she sent the girl a deceivingly sweet smile.

the girl left pretty quickly, sending you a slightly dirty look at the fact that the hookup she'd hoped for wouldn't be happening.

you heard her slam the door on the way out, and rolled your eyes. that attitude merely proved that you hadn't really lost anything.

you weren't super upset, because you knew the hookup wouldn't be all that good anyway, but you were still horny, so you were slightly frustrated at billie for interrupting.

you turned to billie and raised an eyebrow. both of you know that the excuse she spilled was absolutely a lie, guests were a rarity for the two of you.

"well, that was a lie. what was that for?”.

billie simply shrugged, “didn't like her vibe.”

you scoffed at that, “that's for me to decide. it's my hookup.”

billie rolled her eyes belligerently, “sure, but the hookup wouldn't have even been all that. plenty of other pretty girls who could touch you better.”

when she spoke, you raised an eyebrow. “oh? such as?”

nervousness flashed behind her eyes for a moment, before she spoke with an air of finality. “me.”

you blink slowly in surprise at her blunt response, and once her answer sinks in, i feel heat rise to my cheeks. every little thing is adding up, the lingering looks and the soft touches and the—oh. it made sense suddenly. billie had a crush on you, you realised. you spoke again slowly, watching her carefully. "...you...think you could fuck me better...?”

she swallowed, a slight blush on her face as she nodded. “i know i could.”

a small smirk makes it's way into your lips, “prove it, then.”

billie’s eyes lit up, as if she were a child on christmas who had just been gifted her dream present. she stepped slightly closer to you, “thought you'd never ask.”

there was a long moment where the two of you just stared at each other, and then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers. the moment you let your tongue enter her mouth, you felt her practically melt in your arms.

her breath caught in her throat as you kissed her, her hands moving to grip your shoulders tightly. as you'd suspected, the dominant act melted away the moment you made your move. she whimpered softly against your lips, parting them willingly as your tongue explored her mouth "fuck…”

when the two of you stepped back and tripped onto your bed, she broke the kiss reluctantly, her breath coming in soft pants. she looked at you, her eyes hazy with desire, her hair already slightly messy, and her lips parted. “holy shit,” she muttered, although more to herself than you.

with a shaky breath, she looked at you, trying to cling to the last bit of composure she had left but failing miserable. her desperation was crystal clear, she wanted—no, needed to make you feel good. she let her hands fumble with the hem of your top, her actions affected by her intense desire, coming across as rushed and messy. “i’ve imagined this so many times…”

your lips twisted into a smirk, letting your hand drift to her cheek. “yeah, baby? what’ve you imagined?”

a soft whine left her lips, and you could’ve sworn the sound altered your brain chemistry. her words came out in a shy whisper “...your hands in my hair while i…”

your lips twitched up into a sly smile at her shyness, and you watched as she trailed off. you knew what she was going to say, of course, you just wanted to hear her say it. “hm? while you what, sweet girl? use your words, don’t be shy…”

her cheeks heated up at your words, and she looked down for a moment. you could tell that her heart was practically racing out of her chest. she seemed to contemplate for a while, wondering whether to tell you or to just melt into the floorboards and never be seen again.

when she eventually spoke, the words came out in a rush. “while i eat you out. i’ve imagined it so many times, touched myself thinking about it…”

you found yourself smiling again—oh, she was adorable. such a confident, cocky personality, reduced to a desperate blushing mess just because of…you.

“good girl. see, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” you watched as her eyes practically lit up at the praise, and you made a mental note to praise her more—after all, she was such a sweet girl, how could you not? you looked at her for a moment before continuing, “so…you want to eat me out?”

at those words, her head snapped up and she nodded eagerly with wide, pleading eyes. she was so focused on the prospect of tasting you that she was totally unaware of the way she was inching closer, her hands already moving to unbutton your jeans. “please…let me?”

you hummed softly, taking in her utterly desperate form, before speaking in a soft, teasing voice. “how much do you want it…?”

yet another whine slipped from her lips, the sound so sweet you felt as if you could listen to it for hours. “please, need it so bad. need to taste you, please, please, please. wanted this for so long, please…”

and when she begged so sweetly, how could you ever say no? “go ahead, baby.”

her eyes lit up, and she wasted no time in pushing your jeans down, hooking her fingers in the waistband of your underwear and looking up at you with a silent question in her eyes. you nodded, and she eagerly slipped your underwear down your thighs. her eyes widen at the sight,

“fuck, oh my god. you’re beautiful.” the words came out in a soft, reverent murmur as she used her hands to gently push your thighs further apart.

she leaned in close, pressing a few soft opened mouthed kisses to your inner thighs as she looked up at you. she let her tongue find your folds, and you heard her instantly moan at the taste.

she sucked your clit into her mouth, looking up at you with an absolutely adoring look in her eyes. the total devotion in her eyes made you feel something…unfamiliar. and god, she was right, it was so much better than your hookups.

her arms wrapped around your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer to her as she continued to eat you out like it was her last meal. she shifted so that one of your legs was hooked over her shoulder to give her better access. she was doing so well, how wet you were and your moans were proof of that. your fingers tangled in her hair, tugging softly and eliciting another string of moans from her.

while she was licking and sucking at your clit, her sweet moans sent vibrations against your cunt.

you moaned softly. you already figured out that she loves praise, and you intended to make her feel good as well, considering she was doing so well for you. "good girl…”

billie looked up at you, your arousal dripping from her mouth, her eyes glazed with desire. she moaned against your pussy, the vibrations causing your legs to shake and your hands to tug her hair slightly harder. she started to pleasure you with renewed enthusiasm, determined to make you lose control.

it didn't take much longer for her to make you fall apart on her mouth, and she eagerly lapped everything up. she was like a starved woman and she was going to make sure she got every last drop. after a minute, she finally dragged herself away from your pussy, looking up at you with your juices dripping from her mouth.

she looked up at you, her eyes practically sparkling. “do you feel good? did i do good for you?”

those words in that pleading and adoring tone almost made you cum all over again. you smiled down at her, your hand moving to cup her cheek softly.

“yeah, my sweet girl. you did so good for me.”

୨ৎ taglist: @47lake @st0nerlesb0 @n0vabug @darkside-0f-the-sun @asterisk-eyes

[the-s1lly-corner]

ADMIN IM NOT THE ANON WHO ASKED BUT I WANT IN ON THIS TOO

Artist!Reader asking the slashers if they can pose naked for a still life drawing please!!/non sexual

Jason, Michael, Brahms being asked to pose nude for artist!reader

chat dont tell anyone this but i keep misspelling michaels name and always rely on the red squiggle line to remind me to fix it i keep putting e before a notes: reader is gn, including their reactions and general feel for the request, non sexual post, short post cws: nudity

JASON

he has mixed feelings about being nude- on one hand he knows its just his natural body, but on the other hand the only time hes seen others nude is when theyre doing something sexual so naturally he cant help but tie that to his own nude body... it also makes him feel... vulnerable to you

if he does agree to it hes not going to be fully nude, and its going to take him a long while to warm up to the idea- dont pressure him, of course... will be wearing the mask, honestly hes probably more likely to get naked in front of you before he takes the mask off

tries his very best to stay still but even if hes covering his bits up he feels flustered under your gaze... even worse if youre really focusing and your face happens to scrunch- shoot him a smile and reassurance and he loosens up enough to not make his position ridged

lots of scars and markings on him to take into consideration... he does feel a certain way if you capture them correctly- a good way, of course!

MICHAEL

honestly? i can see him not caring about you seeing him naked in any context, its just him... so whats the fuss? so he agrees

stands as still as a statue for as long as you need him, it can be hours and he will remain in the same position youve asked him to get into

the mask stays on, though, you can pry it form his cold dead hands... assuming you can catch him dead in the first place... you... may have some explaining to do if someone were to find the piece.. though the odds of them escaping the house alive after is low

pretty solid choice all in all, but good luck getting him to stay if he decides to do something else, hes not going to stop any plans to stand nude for you

BRAHMS

oh you want him naked? hes already stripping down.... hey why arent you getting naked too/hj

keeps changing positions because hes never satisfied, its going to take a minute until he finds something he likes... from laying on his side on the couch to propping his chin on his hand in a mock attempt at the thinker statue- you might have to guide him into a pose that works for you... you... cant help but think it was a ploy to get you to touch and guide him how you want

lots of body hair, if youre not used to drawing it its going to give you a fun little challenge- and its everywhere, too

the only one who might take his mask off, will make eye contact the entire time youre drawing him so hopefully youre fine with that

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. He could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel smile nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

……………………………………………………………………………........

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I don't love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[churipu]

JJK MEN & THEIR SLEEPYHEAD GF !

featuring. toji fushiguro, yuuta okkotsu, choso x fem! reader

warnings. absolutely nothing

note. anon, first of all, again, i'm so sorry i accidentally put your post up in the queue list when it was unfinished and the pen symbol wasn't there so i screenshotted this before deleting the og post. i hope this post comes to find you by itself :(( second of all, thank you for liking the first part, means a lot to me <33 last of all, hope you enjoy this one!

TOJI FUSHIGURO. i feel like he's the kind of person who doesn't mind having a sleepyhead gf, in fact he'll gladly sleep with her no matter what time or place. he'll just look and then you're asleep, all of a sudden he's asleep too.

people find it odd how you and him are able to just doze off anywhere, especially toji being a pretty "busy" man. would ditch his work sometimes just to have a nap with you, and i feel like he's the type of guy who would use you like a bolster when you both sleep. so you just lie there, arms by your side — while he on the other hand, is all up on you, holding you close to him.

sometimes toji would chuckle upon seeing you asleep at the most random time and places, in a diner, in a fast food restaurant, in the park standing up (and you woke up because apparently a kid bumped into your leg), just anywhere. he finds your sleepy habit quite interesting really.

"toji... 'm tired."

"when're you not, hm?"

he absolutely loves it when you just clung onto him like a koala for a nap, makes him feel proud (oh and i feel like he's the type of person who would take pictures if you sleep with your mouth open with a string of drool coming out of your mouth, he says that it's adorable. you don't think so though).

YUUTA OKKOTSU. yuuta is just so adorable. i feel like he gushes out a lot when you fall asleep on him, like he will silently fawn over you but at the same time he doesn't know what to do. should he let you be? wake you up so you could sleep in a more comfortable place? or carry you to the said comfortable place?

he just ends up waking you up because of how fidgety he is, "yuuta?"

"i'm so sorry, did i wake you up? sorry.."

honestly, you don't even care about the whole wake up thing. you just wanted to sleep so you always end up latching onto his side like a baby, "five more minutes."

it's never five minutes, longest is twelve hours. although yuuta doesn't mind — he even joins you for a bit, and if he has to go, he will make sure you're tucked in well and comfortable with a pillow fort he built just for you incase something (the monsters comes for you) happens.

CHOSO. i feel like he gets confused at first to why you're always falling asleep near him, he even asked this "Google" to that — and Google did not in fact help, but instead drove him into a state of panic because it told choso that you were dying. so when you fall asleep the next time, choso wakes you up almost immediately.

"don't die on me."

you didn't know what he was talking about and assumed that he was just messing around so you closed your eyes, and he had a full blown breakdown because he thought you were actually dying.

but when you told him it's because you feel safe to sleep near him, he's never been so much happier. and whenever you fall asleep, he always has a blanket ready for you both. so here's how it goes, you fall asleep and lean your head on his shoulder, he drapes the blanket over the both of you, he leans his head onto your head and falls asleep.

you both always end up in such an uncomfortable position after (either with your hand or foot in his face, or vice versa), but you guys never cared, at least the sleep was good.

"cho, get your foot out of my face before i bite them off clean."

"'m sorry, it just happens."

© CHURIPU 2023 , DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE !

[autumnywinter]

Your Yan!Elliott posts are endlessly fascinating to me. I propose an idea for you if you are up for it: Yan!Elliott finally has his prize all to himself, only to learn he's simply done the job for them. He's not the only obsessed one. He's not got his prize caged up. No no. He's caged with them. Wasn't it always rather odd that his target of infatuation quickly learned everything about him, his schedules, his interests, his favorite foods? Did he ever even notice? (Based a little on the fact that--let's be real--we players are the weird ones)

Omg thank you! :) And true, I would 100% be considered the creep if my farmer's behavior imitated my own irl behavior haha T_T

I made Reader a lot more smug than I normally do. I hope this is good!!

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags/warnings: Suggestive, drugging, mentioned stalking, dubcon (kinda but not really), yandere x yandere, gender neutral reader

Sometimes Elliott felt like he didn't even need to stalk you around the town. He'd walk out of his cabin, camera, binoculars, and caffeine gathered for a stakeout, only for you to be waiting outside with a smile on your face. That same smile that made him feel like he was soaring.

Not only that, but you knew just what he liked. Granted, he'd like anything if it were from you, but he had a whole year's supply worth of pomegranates and ink stocked up in his cabin.

He didn't even want to put either to use, treasuring each item you gave him like a rare gem. He did eventually crack and eat the pomegranates though. He was only human, after all!

There was no doubting it. You were perfect.

Each time he'd write lengthy letters to you, all from your "secret admirer", he'd watch your expressions. You always looked delighted to have received a letter. Though you never once attempted to find out who was sending you them. Elliott wondered if maybe you already knew, but never wanted to get his hopes up.

He made sure to describe how stunning you were in every letter he wrote. It was important for you to know how perfect you were. So perfect, that you didn't deserve to be around anyone else. No one would ever love you as much as Elliott did.

Despite the countless gifts he had received from you, despite you seeming to know his schedule down to a T, he was still determined he needed to win your affection over. All because he needed more.

He needed to hold you. He needed to taste you. He needed to marry you. He needed you.

"Hey, Elliott!"

The writer turned opened his door, delighted to see you. It was a rainy day, which was when he always stayed inside, save for stalking you at specific hours. You'd usually visit him on rainy days, and naturally he'd always be quick to invite you in. He knew you were likely coming over, which was why he already had a nice dinner prepared and everything.

"Come in, please," he said, holding the door open. You hurried inside and removed your wet raincoat, hanging it on the coat rack. Elliott headed straight for the kitchen, where he dished out the dinner he had prepared, along with the spiked wine.

He didn't have any awful intentions, of course! He just... wanted you to himself for a little longer than you normally stayed. That wasn't so wrong, was it? He wanted to savor this.

Besides, it wasn't like it was the first time he had done this.

"How are you?" he asked, sitting down at the table across from you. He waited eagerly for you to take a sip of the wine.

"I'm okay," you replied, giving him a smile that made his heart melt. "Just exhausted. I spent all day working."

He knew. He watched you.

"Then let me give you a nice relaxing time," he suggested, making sure to sound polite as he could. "Drink some more wine. Tell me all about your day." He didn't even realize his lovesick smile listening to you talk. He was excited for you to become sleepy and less aware of your surroundings. Then he could hold you and kiss you and you wouldn't even remember a thing the next morning.

It was honestly the only thing keeping him from going insane. He could be creepy as he wanted with you and you wouldn't even care. Although he'd use the term "romantic" instead.

After he nearly finished his own drink, he noticed his mind becoming hazy. He was a bit of a lightweight, he'd admit, but it took more than one glass to get him feeling like this. He tried to blink the dizziness from his own eyes, and could make out your eyes on him and a smirk on your face.

"Oh no, are you okay? You don't look so good," you feigned innocence. Even through his hazy state, Elliott could hear the smug grin in your voice.

"D-Did... did you...? Are you...?" He couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"Yep," you confirmed. "You've done it to me several times now, figured I'd return the favor. It's only fair, right?"

He should have been angry or upset about this, but he wasn't. Instead, his cheeks turned bright red as he stared at you in a dumbfounded awe. He didn't know what he was feeling right now, but it definitely wasn't anger. Arousal, anticipation, delight... maybe a mixture of all three.

"To be fair," you continued, "I never was really drugged. Just pretended to be, because I wanted to see what you would do." His breath hitched when you straddled his lap, holding his tie in your hand. "Just to see how far you'd take things."

"Y-You..." He never thought he'd see the day where his words failed him. But how was he supposed to speak when you were on his lap looking so delectable? He subconsciously licked his lips as he drank in every detail of your body. The way your chest rose and fell, your breaths as heavy as his, your eyes clouded with lust. He could only imagine how much of a fool he looked right now.

"Did you really think I wouldn't notice?" Your voice was soft, sweet. "Did you think I'd never find out?"

Elliott paused for a moment before chuckling. He rested his hands on your thighs and massaged them gently. "You know me too well, darling." He placed a gentle kiss to your throat. "How did you know?"

"How did I know you were spiking my drinks?" You giggled and kissed his ear. "Because you're not subtle at all." You licked a stripe down his neck, enjoying the shivers you felt from him. "And because I want you just as much as you want me."

He placed his forehead against yours and let out a shaky sigh. "I... I'm very relieved to hear that." He didn't even bother to hide his erection pressing against you. "If I could, I'd tell you just how much I adore you. But..." He trailed off, growing more deadweight. His head fell forward against your chest as he struggled to keep his eyes open. "I love you. I love you so much."

You rolled your eyes at how dramatic he was being. "You'll be fine, love," you whispered. "And I love you, too."

Despite Elliott falling limp into your arms, he refused to loosen his grip on you the entire night. Or the morning to come.

[xiaomainlmao]

Their endearments for you <3 (twst x gn! reader)

Riddle

Rose, love

He's a bit old-fashioned but that's because of his upbringing

He might even find the more "slang" endearments weird and awkward to say, but blushes furiously if you call him anything

Calls you "the most beautiful rose in the garden" as he grabs your waist and sways to the music in the background

If you pay attention to the bush behind Riddle, you could probably catch Cater hiding there with his phone in hand, while Ace and Deuce were unfortunate enough to stumble upon the two of you.

"Still can't believe you like Dorm-leader Rosehearts! Please, I am begging you. Stop dancing in the garden when that's the only way to our dorms." Ace always cringes at both of you afterwards

...not like Riddle would think too much about it

Ace

Babe, love, idiot

And babygirl. He'll call you babygirl regardless of your gender.

One time, while discussing about an Unbirthday Party in the Heartslabyul group chat, Riddle asked him whether you would come or not. Ace replied with "Of course they will! They are my bbg after all."

Riddle and Deuce were confused so they asked.

" 'Bbg?' " " 'Bee-bee...gee'??? " " Babiest babygirl "

He smirked as he typed this, with you sitting across him. When you asked him what he was being so smug about, he gave you his phone as he burst into laughter.

You were blushing- out of embarrassment or because of his weird endearment, you didn't know

But what you did know was Ace later got collared for 2 hours as Riddle stuttered his Unique Magic, feeling embarrassed for Ace.

Leona

usually just calls you by your name because he's too lazy to think of an endearment for you

but if you tell him about a particular term you like being called, he's going to use that in front of the whole school

likes to tease you by calling you his "favourite pillow" as he lays down on you, curling up and ready to nap

may call you "babe" at times

he would experiment calling you various different endearments when he's bored in the middle of the night, and unable to sleep because he slept too much during the day

he likes to hold your face so that you don't turn away, and stare at the expressions you make in response to his nicknames and endearments

if there's one that he thinks has a particular effect on you, he's going to call you that more often

that or if he thinks there's one that you cringed really hard at, just because he wants to be a tease and purposefully annoy you

honestly, his "endearment" is just him saying your name with an uncharacteristically soft tone

don't point it out though- he would prefer it if you just smiled and acknowledged his change in tone instead of verbalising it

Kalim

Does not use any typical endearments because he loves calling you by your name

He thinks that your name is unique to you, and he really likes how the syllables roll of his tongue

Even if it's a common name, he'll claim that you're the only one with that name that matters to him

Most of the time it's just a very energetic "[name]!!!!!" with sparkling, lovestruck eyes

If he does feel like calling you endearments, it'll be "Sunshine", "Jewel" or "mere pyare/pyari [name]" (my lovely [name], where "pyari" is for female and "pyare" for all other genders, including male)

It could also be "mera anokha Khazana" (my precious/unique treasure) as he pinches your nose and cheeks playfully.

In front of his family, he may refer to you as "loveliest"

Vil

Darling, dear, love

May call you "little one" or "munchkin" when he's teasing you

Does not prefer "babe" or "baby" or anything like that, he finds it a little odd how people associate the word "baby" with both a little child and their lover (and he does not want to indirectly call you childish! Yea these thoughts came to his mind while he was overthinking one night)

Whenever he posts a picture of you on his Magicam account, he has a unique caption accompanying it

"With the love of my life." "Fairer than the Beautiful Queen herself." "My dearest."

Has tried to use poetic captions but fails most of the time.

And Rook refuses to help him. "Rou de poison, how can I suggest anything, when you are the only one capable of expressing your love for them!"

Rook

"Mi amore" or "mon chaton"

That should've been obvious

He's a tiny little French man after all

But French is a hot language so it's fine

If he was second in Neige's fanclub, then he is the initiator of your fanclub

Depending on whether you like having your photos taken and posted, he will either make a public or a private Magicam account dedicated to "all things beautiful", featuring you.

All his captions are little poems he thought of randomly

"Mon chaton! I've come up with a new haikuu to express my undying love for you!"

Is very, very vocal about his love and would use all sorts of endearments he can, and is very creative in coming up with new ones because "existing ones cannot describe your beauty well enough!"

Epel

Baby, babyboy/ babygirl, babe

It's more like he calls you the "modern" endearments to spite Vil

He also doesn't want to feel like he's being left behind just because he's not from the city

But he still thinks that these endearments are cute and fit you, especially the "baby" part because he just wants to protect you

Idia

'babe' or 'baby' are his go-to

he loves to whine "babeee" when he's trying to convince you to do something

if you're playing videogames together, he's going to call you his "trusty accomplice" or "player 2", even in the game chat

he's surprisingly bold when it comes to displaying his love online under "Nekura Samurai", it's almost like adopting a different name online makes him a different person in the chat

but around the campus, he's just going to use a nickname to call you

has definitely searched up "what should i call my partner" and "what nicknames would my partner love"

he also likes calling you after his after anime couple, and sometimes even enjoys roleplaying as them

Malleus

usually just uses your name, but also likes calling you "dearest"

he loves your flustered look when he calls you, lowering his voice and deepening it just to see your reaction

is completely unaware that couples also use "babe" or "baby", but even if he knew, he would probably find it weird, sharing Vil's thought process in this case

like Kalim, he also really likes how your name rolls off of his tongue

he thinks your name suits you, and prefers calling you that most of the time

may call you "darling" or "sweetheart" sometimes, but that's rarer than "dearest"

"love", "prince/princess" or "loveliest" are also among his endearments for you

Lilia has tried to "teach" him about the latest trends and the newest endearments, but Malleus never manages to get used to it, preferring to stick with what he thinks has the best effect on you

[withleeknow]

how he would take care of you during shark week. ⤷ chan / minho / changbin / hyunjin / jisung / felix / seungmin / jeongin

pairing: jeongin x f!reader genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff; menstruation obvi

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

main masterlist / blurb masterlist / ko-fi

jeongin, who is so utterly clueless that it kinda hurts your soul a little. sure it's cute, and sure he's at least trying, but holy shit, there isn't a single thought in his head when it comes to things like this. blame it on not having a sister or close female friends, you suppose.

jeongin, who stands in the supermarket aisle for the better part of an hour, with question marks materializing from the crown of his head as he internally freaks out over which products you asked him to get. in the end, he gets the wrong kind because honestly, he thinks it's your fault. you didn't specify what you needed, you just told him "regular ones with wings. any brand will do," and sent him on his merry way.

jeongin, who buys you a month's worth of snacks to satisfy your odd cravings, but ends up eating most of them himself. he swears it was an accident; you were taking a nap and he was bored and had to occupy his time somehow, seeing that he couldn't bother you while you were resting.

jeongin, whom his hyungs think is the most adorable person on earth when he asks them for advice, with questions ranging from she says her stomach hurts, what do i do? to does ramyeon help? it's the only thing i know how to cook. sometimes, he's jealous of minho, because he'd like to make you your comfort food during your time of the month too.

jeongin, who watches dozens of videos of men trying period pain simulators, and winces every time as if he was the one in the simulation. by the end of it, he's kinda thankful that he was born a guy.

jeongin, whose body heat you take advantage of when you snuggle close to him at night. you often have to kick him away from you because he runs like a damn furnace all year round, but baby bread the human heater proves to be quite useful in times like these, where you can substitute your heating pad with his arm around your waist as his warmth lulls you to sleep.

all rights reserved © withleeknow. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.04.2024]

[moonshynecybin]

For the promptsss: rosquez and chives (building a home together. Badly) OR daylily (parenthood: prepared for and not).

daylily: parenthood, prepared for and not

as luck would have it i already had smth like this written so i’m gonna just post that thang… this is part one of a story that i am currently like halfway-ish through atm (i made an OUTLINE…) and who knows if i ever finish it but i am certainly having fun writing a lil melodrama… i am who i am what can i say

August 3, 2020:

“What is it? My arm, there isn't nerve damage, is there? I thought the scans were good.” Marc shifts, a nervous hand cupping his elbow. He’s keeping utterly still– breathing through pain, trying to keep his head on straight.

Dr. Xavier Mir, uncharacteristically hesitant and containing an odd energy in his posture, peers at Marc. He has a clipboard in his hand, and he keeps glancing at it.

“Marc, you are– you are a carrier, yes? Honda had you tested, I can see it marked in your medical file.”

“Yes,” Marc says slowly, and Mir nods, flipping over the pages in his hand. He shifts on his feet, and a bolt of fear shoots through Marc’s stomach like a rabbit. They told him there was no nerve damage. Opening a glass sliding door cannot be the thing that gives him nerve damage.

Mir keeps going.

“Well, Marc,” He makes an odd, placating sound. “I checked the blood sample that we collected from you for your pre-operative labs, and then I had them run it again to be sure, and it seems that the sample we took from you indicates that you are, well, about four months along.”

Marc blinks.

That isn't what he expected.

“What do you mean?” He asks, slow and loud.

Dr. Mir clicks his pen, Marc guesses he doesn’t deliver this kind of news too often, which explains the tone. “I mean that you are almost certainly pregnant, by the look of things.”

“I—“ Marc gapes. He tries to make his mind work, arm burning. He’s not— he’s here for emergency surgery. Dr. Mir is already dressed in the awful, washed-out toothpaste color of his scrubs. He’s about to usher Marc into pre-op. This is about his arm, all of this should be about his arm.

“Four months? That’s not possible, they would have tested me before my last surgery, it was negative. The doctors at Honda told me, they told me that it wasn’t something I would have to worry about, that I don't have enough body fat.”

Mir nods. The ringing sound fades a bit from Marc’s ears.

“False negatives are rare, but I’m afraid to say that they’re not impossible. And if you can get pregnant, there is always a possibility for conception when having penetrative sex. Have you been experiencing any symptoms? Nausea, weight gain, fatigue—“ Mir peers at him sideways, talking briskly. The shadow of anxious feet move outside the door, Álex and Jose must be pacing. “Strong emotional responses?”

Marc stares at him. Strong emotional responses. The arm that he uses to ride motorcycles is broken. This is his second surgery on it in the space of three weeks. The plate snapped this morning, three hours ago. Brno is in six days, and he will miss it, 25 points down the drain.

“No, yeah— eh. I mean, yes.” He makes himself say.

He puts his good hand to his stomach.

Four months ago. Pre-season testing in Qatar. They hadn’t used a condom, and then the world had shut down and he’d been stuck without his motorcycle until July, the longest he’s ever gone without riding competitively since he was 12 and still in school. Lately, he’s had other stuff on his mind. He’s been rehabbing his shoulder, he’s been training for the season, he’s been doing— he’s been doing motocross.

The truth is, he hasn’t noticed anything. The last few weeks, when he supposes it should have been becoming more and more obvious (four months along obvious, Jesus Christ) he’d been focused on noticing his arm, mainly, and the bike, as well— both more delicate things than he’d anticipated, and there had certainly been some strong emotional responses.

But this is.

With Vale in March, he honestly didn’t even think it was possible with the sort of life he led, and when he was 20 and his doctors all told him he didn’t have to worry about it, he’d just assumed that was the end of it. That will probably be a funny story in about ten years.

It’s not, in the moment. In the moment it just feels mystifying, terrifying— like waking up and finding out the sky had turned purple overnight, only with an additionally fucked-up impact on his life and more importantly, on his career. He bites hard at his bottom lip. A baby.

He remembers— Vale’s hands on the small of his back, hot as a brand. Vale’s hands lower. The question, knifed out between strained breaths as he thumbed slickly at where Marc was hot and wanting: Do you have one? and then Marc gripping him tighter, swallowing around the words. No, he’d wanted to say, so he had. You should just, it’s okay, and then Vale was there.

“Fuck.” He says now, with feeling. This is crazy.

His eyes dart around the sterile white of the room. When he’d come in, he’d caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sterile little sink, and hated the way he looked. Washed out and pale, small in the bundle of his jacket, his useless arm hanging out of its sleeve, but cradled close. His eyes were drawn with pain above the material of his mask, and his shoulders were postured unevenly, warped protectively over his shoddily healed fracture. He’d thought that he looked old. He turns over the feeling. Old enough?

A baby. An actual baby.

Marc is a practical man, when he wants to be. He runs down the list.

The season is still young, and he wants to be back to win—but it’s shortened because of Covid, and with him already missing two races, he realizes, with a sinking feeling in his chest, that a ninth championship at the age of 27 is looking less and less likely.

Which means that he has an actual choice here, not just the illusion of one. The doctor, having given him a thin breath of a moment, picks up on his line of thought.

“You do have— options, Marc. We have you at around four months along.” He sighs. “The injury, if all is normal after surgery, should heal in six to eight weeks, but this is not a normal injury, it has been retraumatized, and you’ve put a lot of stress on the bone,”

You let me do that, Marc thinks but doesn’t say. It's unfair to say it out loud, he’s the one who decided to ride.

“Now, if you want, there are precautions we can take for the baby, or we can see about going another route with that. We need to decide soon, though, because I want to get you into surgery as soon as possible, and I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain.”

Marc ignores his comment about pain— pain usually goes away, eventually, and he’s good at ignoring it. In a few minutes, once he doesn’t need to think clearly, he’ll ask for painkillers that are safe. Six to eight weeks. He would be back by— god, Misano. There goes his season.

“Another route?” He croaks out.

“You are past the 14 week cutoff for an abortion in Spain, but there are a few other countries where it is less of a problem— Sweden, the Netherlands. I’m sure that I can get you in contact with some people that are, ah, discreet, once we get you through today’s procedure.”

Fabio Quartararo already has 50 points more than Marc. He considers the neat zero next to his name in the standings. What’s worse— P10 in the championship or nothing at all. What’s worse— sitting out, or, or a child.

“My arm, six to eight weeks, you said,” He confirms, and the doctor nods.

“If everything goes well.”

Including the initial break, he will have been out around eleven weeks in total by the end of the healing, but the doctors will usually give him what he wants if he looks like he can stand the pain. If he tries to come back in four weeks, instead of six— no, even then the next grand prix would be in September. It’s still half the season, no way around that, and no one can DNF for half the season and still win a title, not even him.

The baby would be six months along by September, and here by November. That would give him the full offseason to heal. A nauseous, unsteady little thrill runs up his spine.

He could be the first rider to win after giving birth.

He takes a shuddering breath. He finds, even still, that he suddenly wants to cry very badly. He doesn’t.

“But, um, this surgery— the baby will be fine?”

Mir tilts his head, like that’s not what he expected Marc to say. “There are always risks this early into pregnancy with surgery, especially after the amount of stress your body has undergone these last few weeks, but it’s not unusual. There are ways to mitigate that risk as you heal, as well.”

His brain keeps catching— back on the bike in six weeks.

His brain keeps catching— 50 points already.

If he does this, he won’t be able to ride until next season, which is undoubtedly the worst and scariest part of the whole thing. He doesn’t do well with boredom, or with waiting, and he can already feel the need bunching under his skin, that gut-wrenching want to get from wherever he is to his bike as fast as possible. Whatever can get him to the top step, he’ll do it, he’ll do it fast, and if it means pain, then well, he can bear it.

But the thing that makes him pause is, if he doesn’t do this, he might never get another chance.

And the idea of that, of losing that, is also scary— scarier than he thought it would be. There’s a part of him that thought he wouldn’t get to do this at all, and it’s reaching towards the realization of the idea with a greedy sort of hunger he hardly seems aware of. If he followed his initial plan, he wouldn’t have a family for probably another ten years, once he retired. And that is only if he finds someone to do it with. He never thought he’d get to do it now, so soon, and with— he finds that he likes the idea.

Especially not with someone that he— he makes himself stop, and a pang shoots through his stomach.

That’s a stupid, childish thought. Vale’s made himself clear, best to nip that part of the fantasy in the bud.

He reviews. 6 months off of his bike.

He reviews. 50 points already. A baby. Blue eyes and curly hair.

“Marc, I know this is sudden, and it is hard to think clearly.” No it’s not, Marc thinks, a little distantly.

“—But I also know you’re in pain, and we do need to get you into surgery, so I need to know what you want us to do.”

He looks up at Dr. Mir. He swallows. He’s never been one to avoid what scares him.

He goes with his gut.

“I’m keeping it.” He says with conviction.

And twenty minutes later they put him under to fix the plate in his arm.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Holy shit, y’all are insane. My tag list is over a HUNDRED (wtf y’all I’m kissing every single one of you on the forehead it was EIGHT before this) and the first part got over 800 notes in 24 hours. I love y’all 😂 With that being said though, Tumblr only allows for 50 mentions per post. So I’m drafting another post with the other 50-odd mentions that I’ll link this to. Unfortunately I’m not willing to make more than two posts, meaning my tag list is officially CLOSED. I’m so sorry, y’all, please know I love every single one of you SO much!! If you’d like to follow along and didn’t make it onto the taglist, go ahead and follow the ‘#if I should stay’ tag. I’ll make sure to use this tag for every update! Thank you all SO SO MUCH!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ and if you want to be dropped from the taglist, that’s fine too; just let me know! ❤️

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Steve is terrified.

Honestly, after the Russians and the Upside Down and everything else, Steve thought he’d never be scared again.

Then he woke up in school in 1984.

He looks around, wide-eyed, only to stop when Tommy and Carol look at him weirdly. “Uh, Steve?” Carol asks. “You look like you’re about to puke.”

Full of tact, just like always. He shakes off the feeling of wrong crawling on his skin and smiles at her. “I’m fine,” he says, when nothing could be further from the truth.

She opens her mouth to respond. Steve breathes a sigh of relief when the bell goes off, only for him to realize he has no idea where he’s going.

Thank God for Carol, apparently, because she throws her head back with a groan. “Math,” she complains. “I hate math.”

Steve feels a zing of recognition dart through him. He had English while she was in math. They used to complain about it between classes.

He feels excited when he realizes Robin will be in this class, then just as suddenly excitement turns to nausea when he realizes she might not remember him.

He walks into class, trying to keep his hopes down, and briefly makes eye contact with her.

She’s doodling in a notebook, looking around the room. Their eyes meet.

Robin’s pencil lead snaps.

Steve freezes.

He opens his mouth, he’s not sure for what, but she shakes her head slightly.

She stands and makes her way towards him before her eyes flutter back in her head and she drops.

She would’ve fallen on the ground if he hadn’t caught her. Whispers start up, enough to get the teacher to look up. “Mr. Harrington,” she says. “I’m not sure what dance moves you think you’re trying, but I will remind you this is an English classroom.”

“Yes ma’am,” he says. “Um. She passed out. I think I should probably take her to the nurse.”

She leans over her desk to peer first at Steve, then at Robin, who still has her eyes closed. “Very well,” she says. “I’ll give you a hall pass. Please ensure she returns once her little spell has worn off.”

He nods, shifts Robin completely into his arms, and walks out of the classroom.

He walks down the hallway and stops by an empty classroom, darting in when nobody’s looking. “Robs,” he chokes, and her arms are around his neck and now he’s choking for an entirely different reason.

She’s shaking, and he feels hot tears land on his shoulder, and he knows she feels the same from his tears. “I thought-”

“I know,” Steve whispers. “I thought the same. I woke up and I was with Tommy and Carol again and I didn’t know what was going on and I was terrified you weren’t gonna remember me.”

“Jesus,” she says. She’s laughing a little, through her tears. “Imagine how I felt, waking up in Mrs. Click’s class. Thought I’d had a weird fever dream. Then you walked in, and…”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Jesus, Robs, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“Right back atcha, Dingus,” she whispers, which really just makes his tears start all over again. “Who else do you think knows?”

Steve sighs. “I don’t know. And other than asking them, and risking getting sent to a padded room…”

“Yeah.” Robin sighs.

“Oh, fuck,” Steve says, tensing up.

“What?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m still with Nancy.”

I tried to tag everyone who wanted it… I’m so sorry if I missed you! Once again I’m so sorry about closing the taglist. Thank you for understanding! ❤️

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Me @ all of you:

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

X Marks the Spot - K.SY

🏴‍☠️Who; Kwon Soonyoung (Seventeen) x female reader 🏴‍☠️What; Humour. Bestfriends to lovers. I guess some tiny fluff? Adult themes. 🏴‍☠️Wordcount; 5.8k 🏴‍☠️Warnings; Profanity. Party typical alcohol mentions but neither SY nor reader are drinking. Kind of jealous/possessive Soonyoung. Making out in public places. The whole point of this story is Soonyoung in a costume marketed for women, so if that's not your vibe then this story is not for you, friend.

Summary; You stupidly left the job of buying your costumes for the party down to Soonyoung, and now you're paying for it and have to spend the night watching him dancing in those little shorts initially intended for you.

Although there isn't any smut, this is definitely an 18+ fic so Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in the bio.

-2024 Masterlist-

A/N; this is all because I can't get the thought of Soonyoung in the pirate outfit from my "Sexy costumes for Seventeen to wear" post out of my head. made myself feral with that one.

Edited: 21/12/24

Completely out of the blue last week, Seungkwan decided to send a message in the group chat to say that he's throwing a costume party. No reason for it, nothing had happened to warrant a party; he had simply decided he wanted to do it and demanded the entire group be there and in costume.

Soonyoung had, unsurprisingly, already been by your side on our couch watching the latest episode of the drama you two were obsessed with, when the message came through. After the episode you both looked at your phones and Soonyoung immediately started to look for costume ideas excitedly. He soon found and fell in love with a pirate outfit and after showing you it, he said it's part of a couple costume and as besties, you have to match because “that's what besties do”.

In the year you have known Soonyoung, you have never truly said no to him and this was no different.

Though perhaps you should've at least looked at the female half of the matching costume before agreeing instead of blindly trusting your best friend.

Which leads us to here.

It's an hour before the party is due to start and Soonyoung has just turned up at your apartment to get ready together just like always. He has the parcel of costumes in his arms and a bright excited grin on his face when he hands it over to you to allow him to remove his shoes.

“I haven't opened it yet,” he informs, watching you walk over to the couch to lean the parcel against the arm and open it like you know he wants you to. Soonyoung knows you get an odd sense of joy from opening parcels, whether or not they're for you, so he often brings his orders over or invites you to his apartment to allow you to open them for him.

“So I see,” you muse with a little giggle.

Soonyoung appears at your back a moment later, leaning his chin on your shoulder to peer into the bag as you open it.

The first costume out is his; packaged in another bag, though this one is clear, revealing the cardboard insert with a picture of a man donning the costume on the front. He takes it happily when you offer it and bounces aside to start to open it excitedly.

There's only one more item in the bag; your costume, so you take it out, excited about your matching pirate outfits too. Up until you turn the packet over to look at the picture and realise that this truly is not what you expected; especially not from your best friend.

“What the actual fuck, Kwon Soonyoung?!” You demand flabbergasted.

“Uh-oh, the full name.” Soonyoung looks up at you in alarm, all sign of joy gone. “Did they send the wrong thing?”

“I hope so because if you saw this on the site and still ordered it, you and I are going to have some issues.” You turn the packet to show him the picture on the cardboard insert.

A picture of a woman in a tiny pair of high-waisted shorts, if they can even be considered that, with fishnet tights underneath. There's an attempt at a white top that honestly could be a lot worse; it's off the shoulder and cropped but it's honestly not as bad as it could be for a female-focused costume, but still far too revealing for your liking. To finish it off, she's wearing a striped bandana on her head with a plastic sword in her hands and you're very certain that the sword alone is the only reason the packet is this big because there's certainly not enough material creating the costume to require such a size bag.

Soonyoung stares at the picture for a second, then looks up at you with a confused little pout. “It's a pirate outfit.”

“Show me yours,” you demand with a sigh. He doesn't hesitate to move over and hand you his costume, still just about in the packet.

There's a very clear difference in costumes. The picture on this packet depicts a man in three-quarter, length vertically striped trousers and a simple white shirt with an open neckline revealing a thin triangular strip of skin down to his sternum, finished with the same bandana as your costume and a plastic sword. Though, the man's sword is a lot bigger than the woman's sword. Of course, the men get the big boy sword and the women get the toothpick.

“You seriously don't see a problem with this?” You ask, holding the two packets side by side so that he can see the photos together.

Poor, naive Soonyoung looks between the pictures rapidly in a desperate attempt to understand. Yet he winds up just shaking his head as he looks at you with such an innocent expression that you know that he seriously doesn't understand the problem here at all.

“Then you can wear this one,” you declare while handing him the woman's outfit before turning to stalk off to your bedroom.

“What?!” He sputters, scrambling to follow you down the short corridor. “This is for women!”

“You've said before; clothes have no gender!” You remind, turning at the threshold with a hand on your open door ready to close it and a sweet smile on your face. “If you want to match with me, Soonyoungie, you wear that and I'll wear this.”

He stares between you and the packet in his hand for a moment before agreeing with a nod and a simple “Okay.”

And that right there, is your second mistake.

When you had told Soonyoung to wear that outfit, you really had not been prepared for how fucking good he'd look in the skimpy little outfit. So now you have to spend the next hours at Seungkwan's bustling apartment pretending that your gaze isn't constantly locating Soonyoung in the dim lighting as he happily dances amongst other costumed bodies.

Sure, you've seen Soonyoung topless before so you know the man has a frankly incredible body usually hidden under the baggy clothes that he usually prefers to wear, but the sexy little pirate outfit highlights his strong torso and biceps so well.

The cropped top stops at his sternum giving full view of the top half of his defined abs, the bottom half hidden by the high waist of the shorts. And those shorts? They really do not leave a lot to the imagination at all, so Soonyoung has spent the entire night so far carefully doing his best to keep the sword strapped around his hips dangling in front of his crotch.

You had obligingly given him the bigger sword when you had realised that the 'woman's' sword wasn't exactly wide enough to cover him. Neither of you had made eye contact when you had handed it over without a word because you both knew what it meant and the fact you had obviously seen the bulge of his flaccid dick in the tight shorts.

Which honestly, had only made you wonder how big he is when hard, and that was a thought that you usually try to avoid; thinking of your best friend in a sexual situation.

Though his pure existence alone makes it very hard.

Kwon Soonyoung doesn't realise how attractive he is and you're kind of grateful about it. Because if that unfairly effortlessly attractive man knows how hot he is, then you know he'll be cocky and dress to show off more often than just for nights out or special occasions, and you would not mentally survive that.

As it is, you're not sure you'll survive the night.

“One day, you two are going to stop being stupid and just fuck it out,” Chan comments from your right where he stands in his doctor's outfit. Seungkwan's wearing a matching one somewhere else in the apartment and you really can't tell if it's intentional or not with those two. They're always bickering and acting like they hate each other but they're always the first the other goes to for any reason whatsoever.

“Please make it before the end of summer so I don't lose money,” Seungcheol requests from your left, leaning against the wall with you and dressed in a suit just like his own best friend and roommate, wherever she has disappeared to. She's likely with Junhui based on the way the pair have been eyeing each other for the past hour -and since they met really, but that's another story entirely.

“You assholes have bets on us fucking?” You gawp in betrayed disbelief at the suited man.

“Yup,” Seungcheol confirms shamelessly while Chan tries to sputter out a denial that makes you level the youngest with an unimpressed look.

However, it doesn't last because you hear Soonyoung's loud voice even over the music and automatically look over to where your best friend is trying to stop Seokmin from grabbing at his sword. No euphemism even if the plastic is in the right place.

“Looks like Seok's going to get further with your boy than you ever have,” Seungcheol sniggers. You shove his arm making him laugh harder.

“Swordplay,” Chan giggles to himself, then wanders off without another word to refill his cup after swallowing the last of its contents.

“Seriously though, you should like, go fuck him,” Seungcheol says a moment later when Soonyoung has successfully distracted Seokmin by grabbing the younger's hands to make him dance with him. Soonyoung shoots you a world-weary, wide-eyed look that makes you snicker and wave innocently at him.

“You really don't want to lose money, huh?”

“It's not even about that, just you two. This has been going on for over a year now; this gross pining shit. Just sit on his dick and ask him on a date, it's not that hard.”

“You can't say shit, Cheol,” you remind.

“Hey, I've fucked her, regularly,” he defends with a pout before sipping at his drink.

“Oh yeah, because fucking your best friend who you've been in love with since childhood while encouraging her to go after your friend who she's been mutually eye-fucking for the past three months is so much better,” you retort sarcastically and give him a look.

He can't refute it at all, it's entirely true and he's confided in you enough for you both to know that he's constantly making his own heartbreak worse by continuing to indulge his best friend, both in bed and when she comes home and whines over how good Junhui looks.

“We're as bad as each other,” he decides after a second.

“Don't lump me with you, I've never fucked him.” You scoff and turn back around to naturally locate Soonyoung where he's back to smiling away as he dances with Seokmin and some others.

“You want to.”

“Yeah, I really fucking do,” you exhale and swallow down the last of your drink only to frown down into the empty disposable cup. “I need a real drink.”

“You know you can't drink around him like this or you will ask to suck his dick,” Seungcheol reminds you of the very reason why you're always the designated driver when Soonyoung dresses up.

Because yes, you have come close to getting on your knees in the middle of a club for him. Luckily, Seungcheol had noticed and took you home before you actually acted on the urge to publicly defile your best friend. Unluckily, Seungcheol had noticed and has not failed to mention it at every chance. But at least it's stayed between the two of you.

“At this rate, I'll do it regardless,” you mutter, still frowning into your empty cup. “Back in a bit.” Seungcheol just grunts to show he heard before you slump off to the kitchen to refill your cup with one of the non-alcoholic beverages lining the counter.

You've barely finished filling your cup when a familiar hand reaches around you and picks it up to start gulping down. Even though you know it's Soonyoung, you still look over your right shoulder where he's chugging down the drink entirely unaware of your thirsty gaze watching the drop of liquid that escapes from the corner of his mouth trail down over his chin and jaw and down his neck to catch on his collar bone. You refrain from leaning in to slurp it up and lick your way up the trail it left all the way to Soonyoung's mouth.

Instead of staring at the way his throat bobs as he swallows down the last drops, you turn back around and wait for him to place the cup down so that you can refill it. And then he grabs it again before you can making you groan in complaint. “Seriously?"”

“M'thirsty,” he defends, barely pulling the cup away and accidentally dribbling some of the liquid from his mouth onto your shoulder. You look at him in disgust. He just grins sweetly and kisses your cheek in a sticky, apologetic way before leaning back up to get back to his task of once again, stealing your drink.

At least this time when you've refilled the cup, he doesn't steal it away and lets you actually lift it to your own mouth. You can feel his eyes on you as you drink, so you side-eye him questioningly without moving the cup away.

“Are you taking Seungcheol home again?” He asks, stepping closer to you as someone passes too close behind him; his left hand falls to your hip and his right onto the counter, sort of caging you in, though you know it's unintentional even if you wish it wasn't.

“He can take himself home, he's not drinking tonight,” you reply, distracted by the feeling of plastic pressing against you. “Your sword is digging into my ass.”

Soonyoung lets go of the counter to tug his sword belt around and lays the toy on the outside of his left thigh leaving him pressed directly against you. You genuinely can't tell if he's even noticed that as he seems to be focused on the conversation judging but the concentrated furrow of his eyebrows. “That's not what I mean and you know it.”

“If I know it, wouldn't I respond to what you mean?” You give him a look; puzzled by his words and hoping he understands that you seem to very much not be having the same conversation here and you are completely unaware of the conversation he's having with you.

“Not when you're both pretending nothing's happening.”

“What?” You nudge him back enough so that you can turn and face him, which admittedly, is not your smartest move when he moves straight back in. He doesn't press against you again, but his left foot is between both of yours as you lean your ass back against the counter. Any closer and his thigh will be very close to pressing to your crotch.

“Come on, I'm your best friend, I think you should at least be honest with me, even if you play ignorant with the others.” He frowns and leans heavier onto his right hand on the counter beside your hip, bringing him in closer so that he doesn't have to talk so loudly to be heard over the music. “You two often leave together when we go out. And even though his place is closer than mine, you drop me off first so it's just you two left. I'm not stupid.”

“Wait, you think that's so we can go fuck?” You realise with wide eyes.

“It's obvious; you always find each other when we're all together like this and spend the whole fucking night hiding off to the side whispering to each other.”

You can't help but laugh. “Do you all think we're fucking?” He nods in confirmation. You laugh again. “Oh man, I gotta tell Cheolie this.” You start to push off of the counter with every intention of going to find the older man knowing he will find it as hilarious as you do, but Soonyoung puts his left hand on your lower stomach to push you back and then he pushes himself against you to pin you there. “Soonyoung.”

“No.”

“What? No? No what?"”

“I'm not letting you go back to him. You came with me, you're staying with me and leaving with me, no one else,” he declares firmly.

You stare up at him trying to decipher what the fuck is actually going on right now; what prompted this sudden conversation and behaviour. Not that Soonyoung has never pinned you before but it's usually playfully as he whines and pouts cutely to get his way, or to just joke around. But he's entirely serious now and looking at you with something kind of dark in his eyes.

Admittedly, it's pretty fucking hot.

“Are you drunk?” You ask, even if you know he's not; you can't smell any alcohol on him and drunk Soonyoung gets cuddly and clingy, not whatever this is.

“You know I'm not.” He places his left hand on the counter on your other side, well and truly caging you in and causing him to lean down a little closer to reach comfortably.

“Then why are you suddenly acting like this?”

“It's not sudden.” You give him a look. “Okay, fine, acting on it is but wanting to, that's not sudden. I've wanted to do this for a long time.”

“Then why haven't you?”

“Because I care about you too much.” He frowns a little as he takes in your features from up close, gaze catching on your lips for a few seconds before lifting back up to meet your eyes. “There's a bet you know, about us fucking?”

“I just found out.” You pull a displeased expression. “Cheol's in on that, you know? He wouldn't bet on us fucking before the end of summer if he's fucking me.”

“He is?” He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “They made it sound like he's against the bet, said he's been trying to stop them from always talking me into it.”

“Yeah, no, he just told me to fuck you. He's always telling me to fuck you.”

“Oh.” He licks his lips as his eyes divert thoughtfully. “Guess I should stop being a dick to him then.”

“You've been a dick to him?” You ask genuinely surprised. You really haven't noticed Soonyoung acting badly towards Seungcheol at all.

“Mm, I always take his favourite snacks at movie night.” You can't help but burst into giggling laughter at his confession.

Of course, the man doesn't have a single genuinely mean bone in his body and would think purposely taking someone's favourite snacks would be a big dick move. You bet he's been feeling kind of guilty about it while no doubt Seungcheol hasn't even noticed.

“What? why're you laughing?” He pouts at you.

“Oh, Soonie, you're so fucking cute,” you coo and cup his cheeks fondly. He smiles a little dopily at the compliment; the same smile he reserves for you and your doting attention on him even if neither of you has noticed that. The rest of your friends have though.

“Nice ass,” you hear before Soonyoung's hips jerk into you when he yelps and tries to escape the slap that lands on his ass.

“Hyung!” He complains, looking over his shoulder to pout at Jeonghan as the man appears from behind your best friend.

You really can't tell exactly what Jeonghan is supposed to be; you think it's some kind of anime character, or something kinky. Maybe both. Either way, his costume is a strange mix of faux black leather and shimmery red lacey wings. And he pulls it off unfairly well considering that you know he hadn't been prepared for the party that morning at all.

“What? Don't look at me like I'm disturbing something,” Jeonghan scoffs, reaching around you to grab the same big plastic bottle you had been filling your cup from. Though he stops and looks at the way Soonyoung is very much pressed against you. Jeonghan grins after noticing that Soonyoung's crotch is definitely smushed against your upper thigh; something you have been doing your best to ignore yourself because yes you can feel everything through the thin material covering you both. “Or maybe I am.” He smirks at you both.

“What are you supposed to be exactly?” You ask in an attempt to change the topic to one that won't kill your last remaining dregs of sanity. Then again, with the things that come out of Yoon Jeonghan's mouth, you could still be rendered insane but for a reason other than feeling your best friend's dick pressed against you.

“No idea, just grabbed some shit from Hao's costume closet.” Jeonghan shrugs as he looks down at himself. “Kind of think this might be less about his costume designing and more about sex though.”

“He's definitely worn that harness while fucking someone,” you agree and reach out to hook your finger over the thick horizontal strap over Jeonghan's chest. You're pretty sure it's directly over his nipples, but the slightly sheer tank top he's wearing underneath the harness kind of obscures your view enough that you don't have confirmation.

“Mm, definitely,” Jeonghan agrees and smirks at you. “Want to take it home yourself?”

“And take it from you? I wouldn't dare, you look so handsome, Hannie,” you coo, playing along with the flirty banter you two have always partaken in. Not because anything has ever happened between you nor will it; you've discussed it plenty of times to make sure you're both on the same page still. But it's just fun to harmlessly flirt.

“Never said I won't be wearing it.” He licks his lips and gives you a suggestive look.

“You're not going home with her,” Soonyoung argues firmly, crowding up against you further though his gaze is on Jeonghan in warning, so he misses the way your eyes widen and dart down to where Soonyoung is now pressing his crotch against your hip with his own thigh pressing up between your thighs. Jeonghan doesn't miss it though and cackles, taking the bottle and his cup away entirely without another word.

“S-soonyoung,” you stammer, hands fluttering at his sides, wanting to push him back for your sanity but you think putting your hands on his exposed skin will just make you pull him closer.

“Do you have to flirt with him all the time?” He frowns at you, entirely unaware of the screaming in your mind; mostly just sounds with the odd yell of the word penis. He'd probably laugh if he heard it, to be honest, just because of the word penis. He wouldn't even realise it's his penis you're mentally screaming about. “And when I'm right here too. Did you forget I'm here or something?”

“No,” you choke out.

“Then why- are you okay?” He suddenly realises how wide your eyes are.

“I can feel your dick,” you blurt, unable to think of anything else.

He blinks at you for a moment, then looks down at where he's pressed against you as if he hasn't even noticed until now. “Oh.” He pulls his hips back and his thigh from between yours making you let out a heavy shaky exhale as your body relaxes a little. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Ha, not the word I'd use.”

“What word would you use?”

If he was any other man, you'd say the little quirk of his head and innocent eyes locked onto you is fake; just some kind of game, a way to flirt. But it's Kwon Soonyoung and you've seen this man miss the most obvious of flirtations since you've known him; the amount of times you or the guys have had to bluntly tell him that someone had been trying to take him home to fuck is frankly absurd.

“Stop touching my ass!” His sudden exclamation makes you jump a little while he looks over his shoulder in annoyance, glaring at Seungkwan who's giving him an innocent look.

“I'm very happy that you two are finally doing something about your consistent sexual tension and mutual pining but take it out of my kitchen, please. I don't want to have to burn my home down if you defile my counters,” the younger man speaks bluntly with a slightly sweet edge to his words. You can't even see him but you just know that he's got that too sweet smile on his face that always feels more threatening than anything.

“What?” Soonyoung blinks at him puzzled as the annoyance of his ass being grabbed melts away. “We're not doing anything.”

“Hannie told me you're being possessive and we all know that she likes that so-”

“Hey!” You exclaim offendedly, not because you can argue it, but just more that you're being talked about like you're not there. “She has a name!”

“Well take hyung home and he can moan it for the neighbours to hear.” Seungkwan gives you that sweet-threatening smile as he leans around Soonyoung to meet your gaze. “My neighbours don't want to hear it.”

“My neighbours won't hear that,” you scoff.

Soonyoung can't help but frown, he feels like he's just been rejected even though he hadn't even gotten to the point of actually asking to take you home and fuck you like he wants to, like your mutual friends had convinced him you want him to. But your firm dismissal of Seungkwan's words sounds like you putting that boundary securely in place before he can even ask to tumble over it into your arms.

“He's loud-” Seungkwan starts to point out, but you're not done talking even if you had taken a quick scoff break.

“I don't live in a cheap-ass building with paper for walls like you do, Kwannie,” you finish.

Both men stare at you for a second; Seungkwan at first just blinks in surprise at the fact you're not even disputing the Soonyoung moaning your name part, just whether or not your neighbours will hear. And Soonyoung is full-on gawping at you, mouth open and eyes wide, wondering if this means that boundary even exists between you.

“Does that mean you won't get a noise complaint? Hyung is pretty loud, you know? There's a reason we don't live together anymore.”

“I don't know,” you reply with a shrug.

“Then go fucking home already and stop humping against my kitchen counter!” Seungkwan grabs Soonyoung by his hips to yank him backwards away from you while the scantily dressed pirate yelps and flails a little at the unexpected action. Then he's shoved towards the kitchen exit while Seungkwan grabs your wrist to tug you along.

You're both too genuinely dumbstruck by Seungkwan's sudden forceful actions to do anything but stumble along until you're both outside of the apartment, shoes in hands and staring in shock at the door that's just been shut in your faces.

“Did we just get kicked out?” You mutter.

Soonyoung nods slowly and then looks at you. “I think we got kicked out for sex.”

“Is it still sexile if you're the ones getting kicked out and told to go elsewhere to fuck?” You muse, attention downwards as you focus on shoving your feet into your shoes with one hand on the wall behind you and the other out in the air pointlessly.

“Uh, reverse sexile?” He offers, dropping his shoes to shove his feet into.

“Sounds like a sex position.”

He laughs. “What would that even look like?”

“No idea.” You grin at him then figure that well, it seems like you've both been outed enough already seeing as all of your friends have stopped hiding the fact that they expect you to finally have sex, which really implies a mutual attraction. So you suck your bottom lip into your mouth for a second as he frowns down at his shoe that just will not accept his right foot for some reason. “Shall we go find out?”

Immediately, Soonyoung looks up at you with wide eyes. “What?”

“Shall we go find out what reverse sexile looks like?”

“Like...us?”

“Yeah, Soonyoung, us,” you confirm with an amused twitch of your lips. “You said you're the only one to go home with me, right?” He nods. “Then let's go home and find out, Young-ah.”

“Ye-no, wait.” He steps closer and takes your hand gently before you can start walking down the hall to the staircase. His fingers are barely holding onto your own. It's perhaps the most cautious he's ever taken your hand into his. Even the very first time you held hands he had boldly laced your fingers together and you had only met ten minutes previously.

“No?” You ask, feeling really kind of stupid all of a sudden. You had been so unusually confident in asking him to go home and fuck you.

“Not because I don't want to because I do seriously, I really want to fuck you,” he breathes out, sounding rather affected by the thought alone as he stares at you longingly and holds your hand a little more securely. “I just...I don't want it to wind up like Seungcheol.”

“Uh, what about Seungcheol?” You shuffle a little closer while giving him a questioning look.

“Regularly fucking his best friend who has a crush on someone else, while he...while he wants her as more than just company in his bed.” The way his expression turns serious and yearning makes your heart start to race a little with hope. 

“While he...Are you saying you want more?” You ask quietly.

“Earlier when I said I care about you too much, I meant I care too much to be able to have sex with you if it means nothing. I really fucking like you and I don't want to go home with you like this if you don't feel the same. I can't do that.” He shakes his head a little. “As much as I've thought about this, about you and me doing all kinds of kinky shit all over your apartment, and mine when Jihoon isn't there. Or when he is if you're into exhibitionism, I don't know your kinks and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't even notice anyway because he never leaves his fucking room an-” He's rambling at this point, frowning down at your connected hands as he talks.

“Soonyoung.” He makes a soft hum of a noise as he looks back up at you with rounded eyes. “We can talk kinks later, I'd really like to get back to the matter of it sounds like you're confessing to me?”

“Oh, right yeah, I guess I am.” He chuckles a little and nervously scratches the back of his neck with his free hand. “So uh, yeah, I really like you and uhm, I guess now comes the part where hopefully, you say you like me back but I really don't know if you do because the guys just really said you want to fuck me and-” You cover his mouth with your hand this time to shut up his second bout of nervous rambling.

“I really like you too, Soonie,” you confirm softly and giggle at the way his features light up adorably behind your palm. “Can we skip the trial dating bullshit and go straight to being together? I'd like to show you off as my boyfriend.” His eyes widen dramatically and then he's nodding rapidly in agreement without dislodging your hand. “You're so cute,” you coo and lean in just to press a kiss to the back of your hand over his mouth. He looks utterly betrayed and heartbroken when you lean back. “What?” You play innocent and lower your hand while backing up, lacing your fingers behind your back.

“You can't tease me like that, baby!” He whines, toddling after you and dragging his feet in a sulk as he moves along the carpeted flooring of the hall.

“Tease? Me? Never.” You grin at him, then stop as your back hits the door to the staircase.

“You are, teased me for the past year. Teasing me now,” he continues to mumble away as he nears, though cuts off when you reach out to grab the sword and yank on the plastic to pull him in right up against you. His hands automatically fly up to catch himself on the door above your head while his breath catches in his throat. 

“If you're so worried I'm going to keep teasing you, Soonie, you better hurry up and take what you want,” you warn in a low voice, chin tilted up so your faces are only inches apart.

Soonyoung groans in the back of his throat before he leans down and seals his lips against yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. He presses his left forearm flat against the door beside your head so that he can firmly hold your jaw with his right hand and tilt you further into him with his thumb pushing on your chin to urge your mouth open wider and deepen the kiss in a manner much too filthy for a public hallway of your friend's apartment building.

“Oh for fucks sake!” The loud voice of the friend in question forces you both apart to peer over Soonyoung's shoulder to where Seungkwan is in the hallway with the cute neighbour he's recently started to date, their hands together and clearly with one intention in mind while sneaking away from his own party. They're standing outside of the neighbour's slightly open door but Seungkwan is staring at you and Soonyoung in disbelief. “I told you to go home! Not get your booty here!”

“Ha, booty, pirate joke,” you snigger and Soonyoung giggles; both at your amusement and the pun he honestly hadn't even noticed.

“You two are fucking useless,” Seungkwan decides and lets his neighbour tug him into the apartment. “You better be gone before I'm back!”

“90 seconds, right?!" Soonyoung calls as Seungkwan disappears.

The younger's head pops back out to glare at the other and flip him a very heartfelt middle finger before the door actually shuts behind him that time.

Soonyoung turns to look at you with a mischievous smirk. “Should we go fuck on his bed just to piss him off?”

“As tempting as that sounds, I'd rather only I hear you like that, Soonie.” You pout at him cutely. “I'm not very good at sharing my toys, you know.”

“Oh, I'm your toy now?” He muses, reaching down to open the door carefully to back you through it with his other arm wrapping around your waist.

“Mm, mine and only mine to play with when I want, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, yours and yours only, baby,” he agrees lowly. “And you're mine.” “I am,” you confirm and tilt up to kiss him teasingly. “Let's hurry and get home so I can show you everything that now belongs to you.”

A/N; There is more to this but I had to cut it all because it really was me mostly rambling with a sort of hand job thrown in there. The title comes from a conversation in the part I haven't included, by the way. Working title was "Yo ho hoe". But if I continue that part I removed from this, I guess there will be a part 2 as a direct continuation from this and it'll include smut.

[hexxedghost]

NikPrice Holiday Threadfic

I hit 200 followers and bluesky and did a NikPrice threadfic as a celebration, figured I'd post it here. I will expand on it and post it to ao3 at some point, but y'all get this for now. (Inspired this art of Nik in a Hawaiian shirt by @nekrosmos that lives with me always)

The holiday had been a great idea, honestly.

They'd all earned a bit of R&R after the shitshow of a year. Some sun, sand and relaxation, lazy drinks by the pool and good company. 

Except that hadn't worked out.

A hotel a few streets over had flooded. Not a big deal.

Until the convention it had been hosting had every attendee spill over to the hotel they'd picked. From relaxing holiday to surviving the madhouse within hours.

And they'd only just landed.

The lobby was packed with people, a wall of bodies they had to battle through to get to the front counter.

John was already looking forward to hiding in the hotel room and just drinking away the rest of the day, and from the white-knuckle grip Kate had on her luggage, he wouldn't be drinking alone.

When Kate had given their booking number, the receptionist had frowned at their screen in confusion.

They'd politely told them to wait as they made a call, and John could swear he felt Kate's blood pressure rise. There'd already been a cock-up with the flights, so Jen and Nikolai wouldn't be arriving until tomorrow. It wasn't doing wonders for her mood.

The receptionist turned back to them, a sheepish expression on their face, as they apologised for the mix-up. Apparently, in the chaos, their booking had been cancelled.

He can't see Kate's expression from where he's standing, but judging by the way the blood drains out of the receptionist face, he can guess she isn't happy.

To avoid potential bloodshed, he manages to coax Kate down the street to a bar, where she angrily stabs at her phone.

"For fuck's sake." she tosses it down on the table and picks up her drink angrily, most of the wine drained in a single swallow.

"Okay," she says, "I have back ups. We are going to relax if it kills me."

"Might if you don't calm down." he murmurs into his beer, unable to stop the smile at the daggers she glares at him.

"Shut up, John." she mutters.

It takes a few phone calls, and abandoning the beach idea, but at least they have somewhere to stay that isn't infested with tourists and loud screaming children.

It's a cabin, further up river. Jen and Nikolai had managed to change flights and were already there, while John and Kate endured a crowded train ride that left them sore and tired.

But at least they'd made it, finally, with no bloodshed.

The cabin is what some magazine would call 'quaint' or 'rustic'. It's set amongst a forest, with a jetty leading onto the lake. There's even a small dinghy docked at the end.

Against all odds, John feels his shoulder might be beginning to relax.

------

The sun is setting now.

Nikolai had cooked, signing along to the radio while Jen kept them plied with drinks. They've all since collapsed on the couch, the music softly playing in the background, gentle with the fading light.

"Another?" Nik is already handing him the glass, ice clunking amongst the amber liquid.

"Cheers." he raises the glass in toast before taking a sip, savouring the pleasant burn.  

Kate is cradling the cocktail with the kind of care most would reserve for their firstborn, and judging by the flush on her cheeks, she's well and truly drunk.

"Wish we'd managed to beach house." she says wistfully, staring into the distance.

"Beach house? You wanted beach house?" Nik teases, falling into the seat next to John, the long line of his thigh warm against John's.

"I'm a beach party girl." Kate deadpans, Jen giggling into her shoulder.

They eventually head to bed, Kate declaring the night was over after Jen and Nik had drunkenly screamed their way through another verse of Queen.

John falls facefirst into the pillow, limbs lax and limber with drink and tries not to think about the memory warmth of a hand on his knee lingering.  

When he opens his eyes, there's sunlight filtering through the blinds. His mouth is tacky and his head aches a bit, but a brew and some food should put him right.

Nik's in the kitchen, apparently none the worse for wear as he bustles around humming softly, moving aside so John can make a coffee.

"The other two?" he asks, stirring sugar into his cup.

"Sleeping still. I am thinking they want a quiet day." Nik says, pushing a plate of food towards him.  

"Ta." he says, not one to turn down a free meal.

"What's plan for today then?"

John thinks it over, gaze drifting outside.

"Might go fishing. Boat's there." John pauses, glancing over at Nik "You could come along, if you want. S'not for everyone."

Nik beams at him.  "I would like that."

-------

It takes a quick trip into town for some gear, but the boat's serviceable. There's a slight breeze, the lake waters rippling.

It's not quite the beach vibes they'd wanted for a holiday. Although that hasn't stopped Nikolai.

"What're you wearing?" John sighs, setting the rods down in the boat.

"I am holiday, I am dressing for occasion." Nik says, holding out his arms to show off the eye searingly bright Hawaiian shirt

Price rolls his eyes, but can't help but smile as Nikolai saunters down the pier like a model on a catwalk. Behind him, Kate has shuffled out of the cabin, clearly hungover with sunglasses crooked on her face.

He gives a wave and laughs as she just flips him off and collapses into a chair.  

"Don't drown." he hears her call out.

------

They'd brought beer with them, sitting back and cracking the cans open once they out on the water, lines dangling in the water.

Nik, sneaky bastard, had apparently decided more beach vibes were needed as he stuck a shitty cocktail umbrella into the can.

"You've not got a coconut in there too?" John asks, nudging him as he laughs. "Sadly they did not have any." he chuckles, before looking to John seriously, "I did check." "Course you did, you bleeder." John settles back, tucking his hat forward to block out the worst of the sun,

"Suppose it's not quite the summer holiday we'd wanted." he sighs. "It is sunny at least." Nik says squinting at the bright sunshine beating down of them. "We could have gone to France or Spain for that." John gripes.

"My French is not very good." "My Spanish is worse." John counters.

They enjoy the silence, occasionally reeling in a line. Nik is muttering angrily as he fails to get a worm on the hook for the fifth time. John takes pity on him. "You don't like fishing, do you?" he asks, as he threads the hook through tossing the line back out into the water.

"I have never fished before. I do not think I am very good at it." Nik sighs, taking a drink.

Price shakes his head, "S'alright. Not about being good at it. Just relaxing with company really." "I like the company." Nik says earnestly. Price clears his throat.

"Should hope so, you put up with me enough." he coughs, prepping his own line and casting. "I am enjoying myself just fine." Nik insists.

"Bit rubbish though. We could have done something you liked." John insists.

He feels a bit guilty about it, if he's honest.

Kate had endured one fishing trip with him before telling him that as much as she valued their friendship, if he ever put her on a boat again, she'd hold him underwater until the bubbles stopped. Nik wouldn't threaten him. He'd be more likely to just smile and endure it, which come to think of it, he might be.

"John." Nik says gently, breaking him out of his thoughts, "I am where I want to be." "Stuck with me on a lake?" he looks at Nik doubtfully. "And very happy about it." Nik counters readily, grinning. John nudges him with his shoulder, and they let the conversation drop, a comfortable silence enveloping them. They finish most of the beer, Price settling back and tipping his hat forward. "Might have a kip for a bit." John murmurs, eyelids already heavy. Nik hums. The sunshine and the liquor in his veins has made him pleasantly warm, and he drifts off the sounds of the water lapping against the edge of the boat.

--------

The sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees when he wakes up. "Christ, how long was I asleep?" he glances down to see Nik snoring at the other end of the boat. He rolls his eyes fondly, nudging Nik with his foot. "Rise and shine, Nik"

Nikolai grumbles, curling in on himself in a way that doesn't melt John's heart in his chest. He shakes him by the shoulder. Nik snorts, looking around before blinking up at him sleepily "Oh, your skin" Nik frowns, gesturing to John's arms "Eh?" As he looks down, he sees what Nik is talking about.

Angry red sunburn covers his arms. John sigh, at least his hat had spared him the worst of it. In his defence, he thought he'd had enough sunblock on. "Can't get any worse at least." he says. The clouds above them choose that moment to open and unleash a torrential downpour. "Fuck." John mutters

Nik meets his very unimpressed look with a grin. "You should know better, Captain" he teases. "Shut it you, help me get the lines in." -------- They're a few meters from the dock when the boat tips over. John bursts through the water, yelling in frustration.

Between the sound of raindrops pelting his hat, he can hear Nik's bright laughter. "What's funny?" Price shouts over the rain. "All of it, no?" comes the reply over his shoulder. He turns and gets a splash of water to the face. "Fuck off." he says, splashing back. There's a moment they lock eyes the challenge mirrored in his gaze. Kate finds them giggling like idiots, shoving water at each other. "What the fuck are you two doing?"

"Fishing." Nik says proudly, sending John into another fit of hysterics, the sheer fucking ridiculousness of the situation finally breaking him.

"Just get inside." Kate says, rolling her eyes.

-------

Later on, John is now realising just how badly he got sunburned. He groans into the pillow, his skin feeling tender and too tight on his body. "You're very stupid sometimes" Kate says, putting a whisky beside him. "My hero." he groans. "Oh hush, you big baby. it's sunburn. You've complained less with bullet wounds." Kate chides, turning to him with her hand on the door handle. "You gonna live until morning?" "No." "That's the spirit." she says nonchalantly, moving down the hallway. John thinks he can hear murmurs but he doesn't care enough to listen. He's too busy feeling sorry for himself. The footsteps reapproach. "I'm not dying, Kate." he grumbles, rolling his eyes. "Glad to hear it." Nik says, closing the door gently behind him. John leans up to look at him and immediately hisses at the pressure on his arms.

"Figured you went to bed already." he says, trying to settle back in a position that doesn't leave him in pain.

"I am." Nik says moving towards the bed. John frowns confused. "What you doing here then?" he asks, tracking Nik as he moves around the room. "Sleeping?" "Not in your room?"

Nik sounds amused when he sighs. "It's a two bedroom cabin, John."

John blinks. He hadn't actually given it much thought the first night. He'd been drunk and tired and just fallen into bed. But-

"Where'd you sleep then?" he asks.

"Couch. But my back is old, this seems more comfortable, no?"

Nik seems to consider something for a moment, looking a little unsure of himself as he says, "If you are not comfortable, I can-"

"No, it's fine. Just-" John breaks off, suddenly unable to meet Nik's eyes "Hadn't thought about it." he finishes lamely.

They sit there awkwardly for a moment.

Nik passes over a tube. "For your arms. Jen said it would help."

It's some kind of moisturiser with 100% natural aloe vera, apparently. He clicks open the tube and gives it a sniff. It's not unpleasant, oddly reminding him of the smell of clean laundry and rain.

It's stickier than he anticipated, though, as he massages it into his forearms.

Price sucks air through his teeth as he twists to get the back of his biceps. The angle is awkward and pulls at the skin, which even with the cooling lotion feel too heated and tight.

"Let me." Nik offers, holding out a hand. Price shakes his head.

"I got it." he insists. Nik shrugs and leans back.

He doesn't 'got it'. After stubbornly trying to shift his shoulder forward only to feel further irritation, he growls and offers the tube out for Nik.

Nik, to his credit, doesn't laugh at him. Just nudges him forward to get a better angle.

John jumps at the first touch of cold cream, Nik murmuring an apology before focusing on the task at hand. Given the size and general way Nik carries himself, his hands are surprisingly gentle.

The thought makes John's stomach twist in a way that he doesn't particularly want to examine too closely

It maybe takes all of a minute, but it feels like an eternity before he hears the click of the cap being closed. He lets out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding, jumping when Nik pats him on the shoulder.

“Helped?" he asks, raising his eyebrows while John shrugs back into his shirt.

"Yeah, ta." his throat feels tight. His skin feels flushed, wholly unrelated to the sunburn coating his arms. The bed shifts as Nik gets up and busies himself in the bathroom.

Wanting to prevent another awkward conversation, and desperate to ignore that melting feeling in his chest, John makes the very mature decision to avoid the entire thing and just go to sleep.

It nearly works.

The bed dips under Nik's weight as he settles in, snuggling under the blanket before idly asking if John was awake.

John feigns sleep and after a few minutes, he hears Nik's breathing deepen and even out, interrupted by the occasional snore.

Sleep is illusive though, and instead his eyes track the shafts of moonlight shift on the wall, as his mind refuses to settle.

There'd been an awkwardness between him and Nik as of late. Which he desperately wants to fix. They'd had an easy, close friendship for years. But now there were sudden stumbles in their conversations. John could never anticipate them, thrown off every time by the sudden surge of emotions that he couldn't seem to identify.

It left his stomach in knots, blood rushing under his skin and palms sweating. Like he was anxious, but there shouldn't be any reason as to why. He trusted Nik, hell he might trust Nik more than Kate and that was saying something.

It wasn't fear, or caution. But it made him feel skittish in a way that unsettled him. And part of him, didn't want to deal with it. Instead, shoving the emotions away, and desperately trying to steer them back towards normal. Though, he often ends up throwing them further off course, over correcting and stumbling over words.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he burrows into the pillow, hissing again at his arms brushing the cotton.

Maybe he'd talk to Kate about it.

She might at least knock enough sense into him to get him back on track. Stop him putting his foot in his mouth at every opportunity.

--------

Kate has that thousand yard stare she usually gets when he talks about Nik.

"You're very stupid sometimes, John." she says eventually, taking a long sip from her cocktail.

"Bit early innit?" he nods to the mimosa

"I'm. On. Holiday" she says, flicking drops from the glass at him with each word. Price flinches away, but smiles warmly at her. It's nice to see her more playful side, normally hidden under the sturdy persona of competence and intellect.

Though a lot of that is due to Jen, who's very presence seems to immediately thaw Kate's icy exterior. Jen is dancing away in the kitchen, singing off-key to the radio as she washes the dishes.

Kate glances over and smiles in a way that makes Price feel like he's intruding. Like a secret, kept hidden, soft and warm lighting her eyes from within.

He smiles into his coffee.

"Glad you're happy, Kate." he says softly. Kate looks over to him, raising an eyebrow.

"You could be too, you know?" she says coolly, but the shine in her eyes lingers as she glance towards the kitchen.

"I am happy." he argues, frowning. Kate gets that look again, eyes faraway before they focus back on him, intently.

"I used to think I was happy to. But it wasn't happiness. Not really."

"What was it?"

"Status quo." she says simply. "Nothing lost, nothing gained. Until Jen." she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "When I met her. I realised that what I'd called happy…it couldn't even compare. Like stepping into the sun after only having a candle to light your way."

She idly draws patterns with the on the table, condensation having slipped down the edge of the glass. "You deserve the sun, John."

"Reckon I had my fair share yesterday." he jokes, gesturing to his arms. She rolls her eyes and flicks another drop at him.

There's the sound of footsteps as Nik shuffles into the room behind them, jaw cracking from a yawn.

"Morning." he says sleepily, eyes still heavy lidded.

"Sleep alright?" John asks, turning back with an elbow over the back of the chair. Which he regrets immediately as the sunburn stings.

"Suffering still, Captain?" Nik teases, pausing on his trek to the kitchen.

He's in agony.

"I'm fine." he smiles, even if it feels a little forced. Nik doesn't call him out on it.

When John turns back, Kate is giving him a very searching look.

"What?" he asks.

She just sighs and pats his hand. "Try enjoy the weather, John." she murmurs, going back to her drink.

-------

There's a nice restaurant in the nearby town. It's got good ratings, the food is apparently a local speciality and the drinks are cheap. It sounds like a good night. That John definitely can't take part in.

Over the course of the day, the skin on his arms had gone from a shiny red to angry and peeling. He feels disgusting and grumpy, patience wearing thin at the constant tug and pull of flaking skin.

Now that night had fallen, he'd set himself on the deck out back with a supply of whisky,   deciding he'd earned it after the annoyance of the day.

He can hear the click of high heels in the kitchen, Jen most likely, as she peeks around the door.

"You sure you won't come along?" she calls out. He can hear Kate and Nik speaking from further in the house, words muffled by the walls.

"Nah, I'm good here. Not the best company right now. Reckon I'll turn in early." he smiles, toasting her with his drink.

Jen smiles softly, walking over and dropping a kiss onto his head before calling goodbye as she headed back inside.

Price settles back, gazing at the night sky above him. This far from the city, he can make out some constellations.

The breeze off the lake is cool in the night air as it brushes over him. The amber liquid in his glass delicately swishes against the ice as he eagerly welcomes the smoky heat over his tongue.

For a moment, he closes his eyes and just lets himself exist for a moment. His nerves are still raw, irritated from the pain and constant push and pull of his mind trying to untangle his thoughts.

Kate's words ring in his mind. Was he happy? If he was really honest with himself. He was proud of his accomplishments, grateful for those close to him, his squad, his friends.

He was lonely, though. They'd attended Gaz's wedding last year, and the space beside him had felt emptier than normal. It felt more pronounced when he caught Ghost and Soap being drawn to each other like magnets, like they were the only ones in the room. With Kate and Jen, he wished he had that kind of warm, gentle joy they shared.

Which brought the trail of his thoughts back to Nikolai. The sudden choking awkwardness, the moments he didn't know where to step in case he lost his footing on the precarious edge he found himself perched on.

Kate said it was like having a candle before seeing the sun. He didn't know how to fix that. There was no sun at night.

"John?"

"Christ!" he jumps, knocking the glass over as he spins to look where Nik is sheepishly peeking around the door.

"I did call out, you didn't respond." Nik moves over, settling in the chair next to him.

"Didn't hear." John says, hand over his heart where it's doing it's best to beat out of his chest.

"Didn't mean to scare you." Nik apologises, pouring a fresh whisky after righting the glass.

"You don't scare me," he says without thinking, mind still tangled in the weeds of his thoughts.  Nik looks over to him, tilting his head.

"I should hope not." he murmurs, still staring at him with that odd look in his eyes. "You sure you're okay?" he reaches forward, gently touching John's hand, mindful of the angry skin at his wrist.

"M'fine, Nik."

That clench deep in his guts is back again as he feels callused, warm skin against his own fingers.  He feels torn between pulling away or turning his hand over to trace the lines on Nik's palm.

"Thought you were going to dinner." he asks instead.

"I thought I should stay." Nik hesitates, and draws his hand back as though something has just occurred to him, "Although I am now realising perhaps you wanted to be alone?"

"No, it's...don't mind the company." he urges. He doesn't mind, truthfully, he just can't imagine he's good company right now. Still turning over Kate's question in his mind.

"Are you happy?" John finds himself asking suddenly. Nik's eyebrows raise in surprise, not expecting it. Neither had John, truthfully, it had just spilled out of him. Nik seems to consider it for a while, his hand shifting so the skin brushes against John's.

"Yes, I would say so. I am on holiday, in a nice cabin with good company." he breathes deeply, staring up at the sky scattered with stars. "I am where I want to be."

The urge to turn his hand, to capture those broad fingers between his own, is strong, but there's still that little dissenting voice at the back of John's mind. That wonders if there's not something better, someone Nik would be better off spending time with than his sorry self.

"Not enjoying a good meal in town?" He can't help it, the need to check, to push, to try to remind Nik of the options he has.

"The food would be pleasant, yes. But I'd rather spend the time with you."

"You- Oh." he swallows, tongue suddenly feeling thick and useless in his mouth. "You came out here to spend time with me."

"That was in doubt?"

John doesn't know what to say, instead taking a long pull from his drink to try to loosen his tongue.

"That was in doubt." Nik repeats, but not a question this time. He leans forward, "Have I done something to upset you?"

"No, no!" John is quick to reassure him, that swooping feeling of being on the wrong foot is back with a vengeance. He scrambles to put it right, hating that he can hear the barest hint of hurt in Nik's voice. "Just...been thinking.  "I just - There are better things to spend your time on, right?"

"No." Nik response is sudden, John turning to look at him. There's a conviction in his eyes, a solid, unwavering truth glinting in the dark. John holds it, but still feels confusion drawing his eyebrows down.

"I mean, we're not young men anymore, Nik." he tries, trying to summon the words to get to the heart of what he means. That Nik deserves the world, deserves happiness, Nik deserves the sun.

"You're right. We don't have time for waiting." Nik says softly. John nods, and pulls his hands away.

"Kate was telling me to be happy. Thought maybe someone should tell you, that you deserve that too. More than what you've got now." he mumbles around the glass, staring out at the dark water.

"To have a happiness to share with someone?" Nik rumbles beside him.

"Yeah." he feels relieved, he's gotten that across at least. Even if the snare in his thoughts still won't unravel, it feels like he's at least made sure Nik can be happy. Even if it does feel like his stomach is going to drop out of him. "I wanna meet them first. Make sure they're worth your time."

"I do have someone in mind. " Nik murmurs. John turns to him, surprised. He recovers quickly, nudging him with an elbow before grunting at the sudden chafing on his skin., muttering angrily.   

"What are they like?" he asks, settling back and picking up his drink.

"Well, " Nik rubs at his chin. "They're very stubborn. Annoyingly so. But, it makes them dedicated to things they believe in."

"Suppose, still sounds like a pain in the bollocks."

Nik chuckles at that. "Yes, true. But i find it quite charming."

John shifts a bit. His gut clenching oddly. He clears his throat.  "S'at all about them then?"

"Sometimes they can miss the point." Nik sighs.

John laughs at that, "Reckon you need someone that can put 2 and 2 together."

Nik hums in agreement. "Hints don't work either."

John sets his glass down, the ice clinking with the motion. "They sound like a pillock." he says.  Nik barks out a laugh at that.

"Da. But I find it endearing, even if it is frustrating."

John rests his chin on his hand. It hurts, not just the sunburn, but hearing Nik talk about this person he hadn't known existed. That he's clearly interested in, wants more from. It feels like losing something, he realises. Something he isn't sure he realised how badly he wanted until it was already slipping away from him.

As much as the realisation leaves him reeling, there's a stronger truth beneath it, that he wouldn't let anything stand in the way of: Nik deserves to be happy.

"Why haven't you told 'em then?" he asks, looking at his feet where they're splayed out in front of them, slumping in his chair.

"I'm trying to." Nik says, also looking down at his feet.

Price nudges him, trying to lighten the mood. "Not gonna manage that wasting the night with me." he smiles.

Nik stares at him blankly, running his hand through his hair and sighing in irritation.

"You really are an idiot." he says simply. Before John can put together what he said to set him off, Nik tugs him forward by his collar and kisses him.

John had thought about kissing Nik before. In brief moments before his mind snapped shut and pushed the idea away as something he didn't deserve.

He'd thought it would be different from his past, that he'd have to learn. That it would feel strange with someone else taking the reins, that it would be aggressive and claiming.

But it's not. It's at odds with itself. The thumb stroking along his jaw is firm but gentle. The night air has further chilled around them, but Nik radiates heat. It makes John think of summer and the way light strikes off windows, golden and bright. It feels like the sun.

Nik's teeth scrape against his lip, he tastes like the whisky they'd been sharing, like smoke over water. He can feel the rumble deep in Nik's chest, the heavy weight of an arm around his waist and his head spinning from the lack of oxygen.

It leaves him reeling, unable to do much, unable to reciprocate as his mind runs over the conversation that led them to this point. The person Nik had been talking about. The sunlight shining bright in the middle of the night that Kate said felt like happiness.

Nik pulls away, resting his forehead against John's shoulder, while he's left struck dumb and blinking.

"Oh."

"You're very stupid sometimes." Nik says to his collarbone.

"Been told that a lot lately." John mumbles. His face is radiating heat, not just from the sunburn but the sudden flush that's overtaken him. His hands feel shaky as his heart thunders in his chest.

Nik just waits.

"I don't take hints." he says to the top of Nik's head.

"Nyet. But it is endearing."

John huffs, Nik's hair ruffling with the air. They sit there for a moment, Price trying to find a position that doesn't irritate his arms before Nik captures his hand and holds it instead, pressing a kiss to the back of it.

"How long were you going to wait?" John asks, looking down at him. Nik rests his chin on his chest, slumped over him. It can't be comfortable but he doesn't think there's a force on Earth that could move Nik from where he is.

"As long as needed." he says, voice warm and eyes soft. John feels his cheeks heat again and looks off to the side, grumbling as he can feel Nik chuckle.  There feels like there's something Nik isn't saying. John thinks he knows though.

"Kate?" John guesses. Nik stills for a moment, nodding with a sigh.  

"Da. Threatened to castrate me if I didn't do something about it. She said you would not realise."

"That all she said?" John asks, unable to stop the smile.

"She may have also mentioned the cabin is cheaper than the therapy from seeing us dance around each other." he pauses, "And that if we didn't sort this out by the end of the week it was remote enough to hide the bodies."

"Lake is deep enough for that." John muses.

"Mhmm." Nik agrees, the vibrations settling into John's ribs. He glances down at where their hands are joined, and slides his thumb along the ridge of Nik's hand, before tugging it upward.

Nik looks up confused.

"C'mon. Can't be comfortable down there." John tugs on his hand again, and gets them to their feet, knees cracking. Nik pulls him, hand spanning over John's jaw as he kisses him again. This time, it feels like John has both feet on the ground. No missteps or stumbling, instead knowing the path to take.

"I like being able to do that now." Nik beams at him. John scoffs, but feels a boyish grin that refuses to shift from his face.

"Shut up, you."

-------

When they wake up the next morning, Kate is giving them a smug look above her coffee cup and Jen giggles somewhere in the kitchen.

Nik's hand is warm in his under the table and his eyes are bright whenever they catch each other's gaze.

He goes to help Jen in the kitchen with the dishes, Kate leans forward, tapping John on the hand.

"Are you happy, John?"

He steals a piece of bacon off her plate, winking at her as he chews.

"You were right." he gives her hand a squeeze, "It's like finding the sun."

~End~

[suusoh]

I’d like to see the “you’re really… cute you know that?” prompt with Johan. I can imagine how it’d go with Nina and even Anna, but i’ve got absolutely no clue how you’ll manage with Mr “angst but make it pretentious” so i’m very much looking forward to it 💋 muah

(Post- Rurenheim Johan, you're sort of friends with him? you're not sure, but to him you're like... the only friend he kinda has right now.)

You gingerly look up to him, wiping the ketchup of your cheek, as you finish biting into your sandwich.

"Come again?"

You're unsure if Johan's words didn't reach your ears because of the soft tone he always uses, volume never rising above a soothing lullaby— or simply because of the slight drowsiness you feel right now.

Another one of your late-night… hangouts? With Johan. For some reason, only God knows, he insists on meeting up with you, regardless of the hour— be it 1:00 am or even later.

He always promises on making it worth your while, mostly in the form of grabbing whatever food or drink you wish to have whilst you entertain his odd request to see you in ungodly hours.

Just like tonight.

Johan stares at you, almost looking inconvenienced. You would have flinched at the blankness in his glare if it weren't for the faint bags forming under his eyes. It's subtle, and it's honestly unfair how subtle it is, considering how much of an insomniac he seems to be. He'd be completely doll- like if it wasn't for the slight weariness that paints his face, shifting his looks to be more relatable.

"I said you look rather.... cute."

A beat passes. You're not even sure how to respond to that. It doesn't help that it barely comes off as a compliment from him— it's merely an observation.

In fact, the missing warmth in his voice makes it sound more like a teacher raising their issue with a student for having bad grades, than a friend trying to compliment another friend for being so endearing.

"Uh..." your continue to look at him incredulously, searching his face for whatever context can aid your uncertainty.

He continues to wait for you to respond. Eye contact unwavering. Any other guy who'd say this they'd be scratching their ears or looking away, a bit sheepish at the act of telling their dear friend that they find them "cute".

But this is Johan. His full attention and gaze fixated on every single twitch or movement on your face. Trying to absorb and take note of the way you process information

You start to feel antsy. Wanting to go back to eating and once again brushing off your friend and his usual, uh— eccentricities. Only wishing to wrap it up and call it a night, retiring back to the comfort of your bed.

"...Thanks?"

He gives a curt hum, a slight glazed look flashing in his eyes, seemingly satisfied... for now. His soft, neutral tone returns when he speaks.

"No need to mention it."

A polite response to your thanks, but something deep within you whispers to follow it like a command.

[redlikemercury]

𝚂𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚍

choso kamo x blk fem reader

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

☆ Summary: Choso and you are going on vacation, but first he has to put you back in your place.

☆ cw: pet names (angel, darling, baby, dove), oral receiving (f & m), dirty talk, degradation, fingering, size kink?, unprotected, squirting, brat taming? overstim? 18+

☆ a/n: it's been a while since my last post, anyways plz let me know if I forgot anything, and enjoy!

☆ wc: 3.6k

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

His aloof and stoic nature was something that drew you to Choso. The two of you had been close for a while now. He was so sweet to you and a bit old-fashioned around you. He’ll call you ‘Dove’ or ‘Angel’ when he speaks to you. At first, it bothered you, but he would apologize when you spoke against it, only to turn around and call you again. It was a force of habit. Eventually, it stuck as it grew on you. He was thoughtful of you when the two of you hung out, attentive to your every need, surprising you with gifts while stopping by your home. Choso would give you the moon if you desired it. The loyal, lovesick man was deeply under your spell. Being around him was like heaven; he was perfect, especially in bed. He’ll lay on his back, begging you to bounce faster on his dick. Your noisy pussy would already be filled to the brim from the five rounds, creaming all over his shaft. He was a greedy bastard loving how he molded your walls to take his cock. Those whimpering moans of his were what had you keep going. It was an intoxicating sound. Riding his face was best of all. When he was horny, you swore your clit would have died and went to heaven.

Despite this, you would try everything in your power to tip the odds in your favor for him to be the dominant one, but it’ll always end up the same. When you told him directly one night, he dismissed altogether, and you went to bed early, leaving him to jerk off in the bathroom so he wouldn’t disturb your rest. You still didn’t give up, though. You were going to have your way. The opportunity seemed perfect with the upcoming beach trip the two of you had planned. A lovely resort alongside a shimmering coastline, having the bright white sand in between your freshly painted toes meeting the cold crystal-clear water. The peaceful atmosphere and luxurious amenities had your mind already at peace. All this was paid for by your faithful boyfriend, of course. It would indeed be a wonderful vacation for the two of you.

“Dove, did you remember to get the beach umbrella?” He asked over the phone as the two of you FaceTime while shopping for a new bathing suit. “Yeah, I did. Stop being such a worrywort, darling.” You teased, causing the dark-haired man to pout his lips a bit. “I’m just double checking, no need to tease. I told you I could do it, angel.” He retorted back, causing you to roll your eyes playfully. “I know, I know. Just tone it down with the worrying. I can handle getting a few things for this trip. Honestly, you act like I can’t handle this alone.” You spoke back. You just wanted to show off your vacation box braids as you shopped. You decided to be creative and get them long this time, the medium-sized plaits stopping at your ass. Choso couldn’t be mad at your response, though. He was fully aware of how much he spoiled you. He admired your sun-kissed skin at this hour and how radiant your brown complexion glowed, watching through his tiny phone screen. He could only imagine the intoxicating sweet smell of your perfume and how he would stick his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling such a refreshing scent. It made his dick twinge with excitement. “Just be careful, angel.” He urged with a soft smile creeping on his lips. You grinned before blowing an air kiss through the phone at him, prompting Choso to catch it. “I will, now bye-bye, baby. Love you.” You spoke, and Choso replied with an ‘I love you too’ back before the two of you hung up.

You were determined with your secret motives, striding down the hustle and bustle of the streets on the prowl for the perfect shop. Large rectangular buildings towered above you, casting shadows on the busy sidewalk, and numerous people traveled down the pavement. An abundance of city sounds of cars honking, conversations, and distance music created some enthusiasm for your venture. 

A fashion boutique caught your eye with its dazzling display of hot new swimwear with bright prints and a rather scanty display window that encouraged you to enter the establishment. The bone-chilling air condition caused a shudder to run up your spine as you looked around the place. “Damn, it’s cold.” You muttered, walking around and looking at various swimwear. You quickly realize how packed and popular this store seems to be, causing you to be a little discouraged about finding a good bathing suit here, but to your surprise, you find one. On the rack next to you, pick up the sexy red thong bikini as it is to your liking. It would certainly have your more than reserved boyfriend to pay some attention to you. The thought came across that others would be staring too, but all you wanted more was your boyfriend to crack underneath the pressure, even if it had to be something a bit untasteful. You don’t plan on cheating on him in any way, but you were sure a couple of stares from other people would have him asserting that dominant nature in no time. 

After waiting in line for an entire century, you paid for your things using Choso’s card as always and returned to your cozy home. Sliding off your shoes at the front door, you made your way upstairs, packing for your trip. You were delighted that your devious plan was getting put into action tomorrow. Once all packed, you took a much-needed shower from the long hot day. Shooting a quick ‘goodnight’ text to Choso and putting on your bonnet, you went to bed. 

That next morning, around eleven, you were getting ready, brushing your teeth, putting on some lotion, and sliding on your skimpy new bathing suit with a flimsy, very much see-through beach coverup. Once you had your shades sitting on top of your head, you were ready to go, bringing all your bags and forgetting about the beach umbrella that had stumbled under your bed. Sitting pretty on the couch until Choso came, but your nerves were getting the best of you after a while. The palpitations of your heart were soaring as you folded one leg over the other tightly. The thought of how Choso would react to your body was killing you. Through the fabric of your coverup, you felt the feeling of the excellent plush leather couch against your ass and thighs, squirming around to get comfortable. The red swimsuit felt as if it was becoming tighter on your skin as you were waiting, especially the thong that was getting swallowed up in the back between your plush ass cheeks. That sweet scent of your favorite lotion became more evident to your senses. Such an inviting scent will send your boyfriend over the edge. The cool A/C was the only thing keeping your boiling body from combusting. 

Waiting for Choso was agonizing. 

You could have simply turned on the television or scrolled on your phone to calm your high-rising nerves, but you knew it wouldn’t. The excitement of seeing Choso’s face when you opened the door is what exhilarated you the most, the sheer jaw-dropping awe. Choso was a man of his word when meeting with you, so you knew he would be here on time, at twelve, like he said on the dot. It was five minutes til twelve, and you stood up and paced in the hall before he arrived. ‘Why can’t time go by faster? This is taking forever!’ You thought to yourself, irritated as your braids swayed back and forth, brushing against your sides and rear. 

Ding! Dong!

The sound nearly made your heart jump onto the floor as you exhaled, taking a deep breath. You checked yourself into the mirror one last time before opening the door. Choso stood in front of your eyes in his floral Hawaiian shirt unbuttoned, showing off his muscular figure and some swimming trunks. His lips parted to speak, but nothing came out as he had seen in your flimsy coverup. There was nothing left to the imagination as he stared at your bikini underneath. Time felt like it had slowed, and the world faded into a haze of desire. His gaze was lecherous and memorized, taking in your figure; every inch of that sexy body of yours made his thirst grow. A gluttonous intent flickered in his eyes, watching those pretty titties when your chest rose and fell. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance and making your heart pound. A desirable tension formed between you once his warm fingers trailed over your cold skin. A soft gasp left your lips, expanding Choso's yearning for you. He entered the house, slamming the door shut before looking back at you with a piercing gaze. 

“Angel.. C’mere.” He spoke, but this tone of his was unusual. It was commanding.

As you approached him, a hand cupped your face as his thumb stroked your cheek. Choso’s free hand placed firmly on your waist, tightening his grip. Without warning, he dragged you in for a sloppy kiss, his tongue purging your mouth while entangling your tongue with his. He moaned deeply into the kiss, feeling the drool dripping down his chin. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling and holding him tightly against your body. Some soft gasps seeped through your lips while he gave you an inch, intoxicating you with vulgarity. Your legs were growing weak, hearing the wet smacking noise the two of you were producing. “Mphmm…” Choso whimpered, caressing your cheek more with a sense of possessiveness. ‘Oh fuck!’ You thought to yourself, feeling like you were on cloud nine. A few more kisses were shared between you and him before it broke. The two of you breathed heavily, trying to catch your breath. 

Choso soon returned to his modest behavior and kissed your forehead, eyeing your bags next to the couch. “We gotta get going, angel, or we’ll miss check-in time.” He uttered to you, walking over to your bags and swiftly picking them up. You stood there almost dumbfounded. You had only shared such a small amount of time with that animalistic side of him, craving more of it. Seeing back at his usual tendency, smiling for you to lead the way out the door irked you to a small degree. You rolled your eyes and walked outside down the pavement to his car parked in the front. 

Choso knew he had gotten underneath his skin, choosing to play coy until he felt like snapping you back down to size. His eyes followed intensely on your fat ass, watching it move side to side. He was highly aware of how much he spoiled you—giving you one of his credit cards, buying you lovely things, taking you on nice trips, paying your bills even though you never asked him. Hell, he paid for any hairstyle you’ve ever gotten since you two started dating. 

In Choso’s mind, you’re his only lady, and he would make damn sure you knew that. He knew you would try something like this the moment you asked him first for him to treat you like a slutty whore, a few weeks back. He objected but immediately regretted it, remembering the repercussions. He had his reasons. He wouldn’t mind getting rough with you, but only if you were a total brat, even if it took some ‘encouragement’ to get you there. He wanted nothing more than to see you get so angry at him, only to end up a shaking mess creaming in his dick in a whimpering helplessly. Lewd images of such acts are only left to the imagination. You were rarely ever mad at him. The times that you were sparking a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but you were such a good girlfriend that you would always sit down and talk with him about why you were upset. He couldn’t be mad at that, and he admired the way the two of you were honest and open with each other. He still couldn't help wishing for a bit of rise out of you, though, something to spice up the passionate sex between the two of you. 

You were slowly shifting into that spoiled bratty personality he wanted to see after that half-assed kiss. Choso grinned while watching that thong get swallowed up by that ass. At best, he was a cunning man, knowing his girlfriend like that back his hand. He just needed to be patient. 

Choso had packed all the heavy luggage in the back of his trunk and a few minuscule items into the backseat. He entered the driver’s side. Your arms rested on the passenger side door with a slumped posture. Those furrows, arch brows, and full pouty lips made Choso's cock throb just a little. Despite the devious thoughts Choso had felt, you were highly pissed. To you, it seemed like your plan wouldn’t be accordingly. How could he kiss you like that just to leave you hanging? You were highly needy of him, and the sly bastard knew it, too.

Before the two of you pulled off Choso double-checked all the things you two needed. He noticed the beach umbrella you promised to get wasn’t in the trunk. “Angel, where’s the umbrella?” He asked in a smooth tone. Hearing his voice irked you more and you slung your braids behind your back. Some of them whipped Choso in the face, he was caught off guard with that attitude of yours. “I don't know, it’s probably in the house still.” You said nonchalantly walking back to the house. Choso sighed heavily watching you leave, following behind you. Back in the home, you and Choso looked around for the umbrella.

Choso was becoming just as annoyed as you when you started doing a lousy job helping him search. The tension between the two of you filled with frustration with every passing moment. “Just look upstairs, I’ll look down here.” He spoke in an irked tone. You sighed, annoyed, storming up the stairs. “Whatever.” You snapped back, heading to your bedroom. Choso's eyes furrowed, searching the whole downstairs for the damn beach umbrella, the two of you would be late for check-in time. He didn’t like being late. Going upstairs, he found you in your bedroom lying on the bed. You weren’t even trying to look and wasting time on your phone. “I thought you were looking up here?” He spoke angrily. You scoffed. “I figured you would find it already. I mean, you’re good at everything else.” You said pretty bluntly. Choso rubbed the side of his temples and came up close to you. “This is your damn house; you were responsible for getting it.” He hissed. Your eyes widened when he cursed at you, and you sat up on the bed. “Dammit, don’t get mad at me. We can just leave the stupid thing here.” You sassed him. Choso couldn’t believe that you were so okay with such suggestion. “You’re so stupid sometimes.” He said. Something about seeing the smoldering intensity of his eyes, that jaw being clenched tight, the low authoritative tone had your pussy purring. “Oh really?” You said in a somewhat seductive tone. Choso scowled and approached you, his nose touching yours. Quickly catching onto your advances, it couldn’t be helped that he was just as excited as you were. The fact you were acting out like this, made the bulge he been trying to hide in swimming trunks throbbed. 

He had been ignoring the thoughts for a while now, but this was his moment. “On your knees.” He commanded, and you swiftly got into position on the mattress. His hands already pulling up your coverup, pulling down that thong of yours. His two long fingers grazing the lines of your slick folds, before tracing small circles on your needy clit. A soft moan, escaped your lips as you moaned silently. “You’re such fucking hassle you that angel? I’m always giving you my best, and all I expect you to do is be a good girl for me.” His voice was raspy, watching with a lustrous gaze in his eyes before reaching to spring free his thick dick coated in his precum. All that bitching you were doing, while you were getting wet like this drove him insane, he was going to put you back in your place. Pulling his digits free from your needy cunt, his big hands pull you up from bed and turn you around quickly. Your face is nearly touching his cock. “Open wide angel.” He demanded and like the obedient slut you were you did it. His dick invades your mouth slamming his tip to the back of your throat. Gagging and slobbering over his shaft he whines. “God, it feels ss-so good making you shut up.” He whimpers, thrusting faster, as his balls slap against your chin. The rough thrusts had you clenching on his thighs tightly. 

Drool coated his girthy cock as you were doing your best to take of him, your throat became sore from the way he slammed into you. The way your eyes looked watered with the tears staining your cheeks from the intensity of it all made him speed up getting sloppy with each thrust. Choso thought it was such a delight seeing you whimper, you were at his command, while you staring down at you made him smirk. Choso got a kick out of those pleading eyes, he gonna fuck the absolute shit out of you for that nasty attitude of yours. Those big hands of his traveled to your box braids, gripping your scalp. He made your head bob faster up down his drenched shaft, with his thrust getting needier. “Shit, angel, I’m gonna show you want a filthy mouth gets you.” He mumbled before he shot the warm cum into your mouth. Choso let out a long whimpering moan, with his head tossed back. He pulled his dick out slowly, before lifting your head to him. “Swallow it. Now.” He demanded you with a deadpan look. Your eyes widened for a second but you didn’t dare question it and swallowed all of it. He smiles wickedly before pushing your body down onto the cool silk sheets. The cool contrast and your hot body made you shiver as you were trying to compose yourself. 

“Open them wide for me darling,” Choso spoke, his hands slowly massaging your thighs. His warm touch made you moan softly, opening up your legs wide for him. Your breath was heavy as you were still trying to get hold of yourself, you couldn’t believe he wasn’t giving much of a break. Sliding down his finger to that sloppy hold of yours once again, and using his thumb to circle your clit. The sensation was like no other, as you squirmed on the silk sheets underneath your skin, it felt like you were gliding and sliding everywhere.

“Ch-choso I’m s-sorry..” You whimpered, but that only dug his fingers deeper into your sobbing hole. “Shh-shit.” You moaned. “That shitty apology isn’t going to cut it, angel. We’re already going to be late, because of that nasty attitude of yours. So it’ll be best if I bring the ocean to us….” He chuckled to himself a bit wickedly before finishing his sentence. “yeah, to us, so squirt for me.” He spoke, eyeing your glistening cunt.

His fingers easily slip into that sweet spot of yours making you moan relentlessly, and before you knew what had hit you, your pussy had squirted all over Choso’s abs. He smirks at your fluids pooling on the silk sheets. “Ohh, my god! Ch-choso! I s-said I’m sss-sorry.” You whined, and his free hand gave your thigh a tight squeeze. “Yeah, I heard.” He huffed, still pumping his fingers into your tight walls. “Your filthy attitude is matching this nasty pussy of yours. So do it again for me.” He says, hearing the squelching of dripping cunt. “A—aah! Ohhh!” You moan, and before you knew it you squirted again, the warm fluid dripping down Choso’s abs made him groan. Taking his hand off your thigh, he takes two of his fingers to scoop some up and taste it. “Soo sweet.” He murmurs and uses both of his hands to spread out your thighs.

  Cranking up the assault on your needy pussy, he feasts on you intoxicated by your breathy mewls. Your toes started to curl up from the pleasurable sensation, and your back arch further up. “Fuck, you taste so sweet angel, almost makes me forget why I was mad in the first place.” He rasped against your sobbing cunt, before diving in to devour you. “I, uh, I’m gonna cum!” You whimpered, but Choso was too pussydrunk to care, he was becoming greedy. Swirling his tongue around in languid strokes through your pulsing release, slurping up every last drop as your body convulses on the mattress. 

Choso lifted his head high to look at your fucked out face and smiled. He leaned closer to you and planted some kisses along your jawline. “Mhmm, I guess being late will be okay, I’ll accept your apology from earlier.” He whispers in your ear. Your eyes flicker over to him as you now can catch your breath. “You do?” You asked softly, as Choso gave a simple nod. “Yes, I figured I should, especially since I want to do this all over again at the hotel, next to an actual ocean.” He said as he saw the beach umbrella peeking from under your bed.

END!

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: trade? what trade? brady’s a cane, always will be 😭 seriously tho, odds are pretty good that i just keep writing him as a cane bc i have no interest in having to learn the preds beyond beau and josi 🤷🏼‍♀️ had this written for a bit but never posted it bc i was yelled at during the playoffs for even thinking about the canes 🙄

tw: stomach flu, mentions of vomiting, mentions of dizziness

word count: 3.4k

summary: norovirus makes its way around the canes’ locker room and it finally takes you and brady down

Brady’s fingers are cool as they card through your hair, brushing gently against your temple and scratching lightly at your scalp. Your cheek is pressed against his thigh, smushed up so it interferes with your vision - not that you’re really focused on the TV. Comedy Central has a repeat of The Office on and above you, Brady chuckles faintly as Dwight complains about identity theft.

You roll your eyes back to cut your gaze at him and Brady’s head is resting against the back of the couch, his eyes partially shut. He’s mostly just listening to the TV.

Norovirus had swept through the Canes’ locker room, taking the players and their families out one by one - starting with Burnzie, which had led Jarvy to conclude that one of the Burns’ children had brought it home from school. As one player recovered, another was taken out. Last week had been Brett and Jordan, this week it’s yours and Brady’s turn to be down for the count. He’d come home from morning skate two days ago looking paler than usual, a greenish-grey tinge to his skin. You’d already dry heaved over breakfast that morning, thinking it was pre-period nausea.

Less than an hour later, you’d each retreated to separate bathrooms and hadn’t emerged until there was nothing left to purge. Brady had managed to text Rod, who was entirely unsurprised by the turn of events.

The next day and a half had been a blur of Instacarted Gatorade and crackers, the smell of Clorox and Lysol a permanent fixture in the house. Unfortunately, the smell of Clorox only triggered your gag reflex even more. Only this morning you’d managed to keep down more than a few spoonfuls of chicken broth.

Your stomach cramps a little and you curl your body into a tighter fetal position, turning your head to muffle your groan against Brady’s thigh. His fingers pause in your hair and he asks, “you okay, sweetheart? Need the bowl?”

“The bowl” is your combo popcorn/salad/vomit stainless steel bowl and it’s resting on the couch next to Brady, easily within arm’s reach just in case. The bowl has seen a lot of action the last two days and honestly, you’re contemplating tossing it out at the end of this. Or burning it, if stainless steel even burns. Hell, you’ll just throw it into the ocean at this point. You never want to see the bowl again.

“No,” you mumble against the fabric of his shorts, voice raspy and throat sore. “I think my stomach is eating itself.”

Brady nods his agreement and you can hear his stomach growl slightly behind your head. “Think we can manage more soup?” His fingers continue their work in your hair and it’s so soothing you find your eyelids fluttering, fighting to stay open.

“Honestly?” You nuzzle your face against his leg, tucking one hand under your cheek and the other underneath Brady’s thick thigh. “No, but you should try. You don’t want to be too weak when you get back to practicing.”

He hums and his fingers slow down, tangling gently in your hair. “Maybe ‘fter a nap,” he mumbles, head going back against the couch and body slouching a little deeper into the cushions. You can’t really argue with him - like clockwork, you’d both been with your heads in the toilet every thirty minutes. You don’t remember what a good night’s sleep feels like.

Brady falls asleep quickly, his hand covering the side of your head like a mask. The dogs pad into the den, semi left to their own devices the last two days and you feel bad about it. Reese settles on top of Brady’s feet, curling into a little ball and letting his tail swish along the floor while he looks up at you with big brown puppy eyes that bear a striking resemblance to your boyfriend’s.

“Sorry, pup,” you murmur, reaching out to scratch his head. “We’ve been bad pet parents, huh?”

He lets out a little whine that you take to be golden retriever for ‘yeah, mom, you guys suck lately.’

Sully hops up on the couch and wedges his body between your back and the back of the couch, a warm, solid presence. His nose presses against your shoulder and you wiggle forward a little to make more room for the big dog. Neither of them are supposed to be on the furniture, but you have no energy to shove him off.

“Just for today,” you warn him in a rasp. “Back to the floor with you tomorrow.”

Sully yawns, tongue lolling out of his mouth, showing just how much he cares about your proclamation.

With a soft scoff of your breath, you roll your eyes and keep them shut, pressing your face more solidly against Brady’s thigh. The muscle twitches under your cheek and you blink slowly. Soon enough, the combination of the low volume of the TV, Brady’s gentle snores, and the dogs’ soft breathing lulls you to sleep.

You wake with a jolt, your mouth filling with saliva and your stomach lurching. Sully’s draped over your legs and you don’t think, panic flooding your senses. Clamping your lips together tightly, you lunge over Brady’s lap and grab for the bowl, heaving into it. You empty the minimal contents of your stomach into the bowl, feeling Brady’s legs move under your torso. His hand fists in your hair, pulling it back into a makeshift ponytail so it stays out of your way.

“Okay, there you go,” Brady’s voice is low and soothing, his other hand rubbing circles on your back as you spit into the bowl. After a moment, nothing is coming up anymore and you groan, easing back carefully onto your knees.

Brady squints at you. “You okay?”

“I love your teammates,” you groan. “But I could kill every single one of them.”

Your boyfriend laughs and then winces when his stomach muscles tense. “Fuck, this shit really is no joke,” he mutters, stretching his arms over his head.

Your mouth tastes disgusting and your entire body hurts from heaving. On shaky legs, you carefully step off the couch, snatching the bowl and padding slowly into the bathroom to get clean it out. You catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror over the sink and wince. Dark purple circles under your eyes highlight just how pale you look. Little red pinpricks of broken blood vessels are scattered over your cheeks like freckles and your hair is a matted, knotted mess in a limp bun on the side of your head.

“Ugh,” you mutter to your reflection, honestly surprised that you look so awful. You’d been avoiding mirrors as much as possible. You rinse out the bowl and douse it with Clorox, leaving it in the bathtub for now, before rinsing your mouth twice with Listerine and brushing your hair back into a semi-decent ponytail. This bathroom’s going to need a major disinfecting too.

Add it to the list.

Brady’s in the kitchen when you leave the bathroom, his body hidden behind the open fridge door. Both dogs are at his feet, circling his legs like he’s about to drop some food for them. He pulls back and shuts the door, the hood of his sweatshirt pulled over his head and a wan look on his face.

“Nothing looks appetizing,” he explains, leaning a shoulder against the fridge.

You slump over the kitchen island, one arm folded between the granite and your chest. Reese lopes over to you, brushing his head against your thigh and you reach down to scratch behind his ears. “What, blue Gatorade and saltines lose their appeal on the third day?” You joke, tucking your chin into the stretched out neck of your ancient crewneck.

Brady’s lips twist up in a small smile. “I would kill for the ability to keep something else down,” he scrubs a hand over his face, dragging his skin down on the second pass.

“We could try the golden diet,” your head feels so heavy, so you prop your chin up on your palm and look over at Brady. He lifts an eyebrow and you continue, “plain boiled chicken breast and rice.”

Both dogs bark, excited, and you wince at the noise and how it feels like an ice pick in your brain.

“I’d rather not feel like one of the dogs,” Brady laughs faintly. Almost immediately, he clamps his lips together and freezes in place, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows harshly. He doesn’t make a move for the bathroom and you wait another moment before it passes and he frowns. “Sorry,” he mumbles, “thought I might have to make a run for it.”

“I could try and make some more soup,” you suggest, your stomach rumbling a little. You honestly have no idea if you’re actually hungry or if you’re going to have to run off again. Reese butts your thigh with his head and you sigh down at him. “I feel bad that these guys haven’t been getting as much outside time.”

“How do you feel about a short w-a-l-k?” Brady spells out the word because the dogs will go insane otherwise and it always makes you giggle a little.

You hum and skirt around the island so you can wrap your arms around Brady’s waist and bury your face into his chest. His arms come around your back, warm and strong. “Not great,” you mumble into the fabric of his sweatshirt. “But maybe some fresh air and sun will do us some good?”

He nods, chin bumping the top of your head. “A short one, like two blocks,” he suggests. “And then right back to the couch.”

Agreeing, you give Brady a little squeeze around the waist before reluctantly pulling away. You clap and grin down at the dogs, “okay, puppies, time for a little walk!”

Predictably, they go nuts, barking and jumping at you so that Brady holds his arms out to brace his hands at your lower back so you don’t fall over. He laughs a little in your ear before whistling to get the dogs to calm down. They stop barking, but they’re still bouncing around your legs and you laugh as you push past them, heading for the hall closet. It’s warm enough in Raleigh that you don’t have to change out of the thin sweats and crewneck, but you do pull on a plain black vest just so you have a pocket for your phone.

Brady clips the leashes onto both dogs’ collars and steps into a pair of slides, holding the leashes out to you so he can lock the front door. You let the dogs have some leeway with the leashes, watching them as they roll around together on the front lawn. It’s bright and sunny and you squint even behind your sunglasses.

“Has it been this bright out all week?” Brady asks, taking a leash in one hand and lacing his fingers with yours. He still has the hood up on his hoodie and when you look up at him, all you can see is the side profile of his nose and chin. His nose wrinkles up and you can’t help but mimic the expression.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” you sigh, starting to walk down to the sidewalk. You feel like a baby deer, all wobbly legged and weak, but the breeze is nice and you have to admit that it feels good to not be breathing in Lysol scented air.

The dogs tug at their leashes and you give them more leeway, walking slowly down the sidewalk. Brady’s thumb rubs over the backs of your fingers, your linked hands swinging slightly between your bodies as you walk. It’s quiet in the neighborhood since it’s the middle of the day on a Wednesday and you savor the peace.

Your stomach cramps a little and you lean into Brady’s side as you walk, huffing a frustrated breath through your nose. “When I get my hands on Jagger…” you trail off the threat, ruining the effect with a little laugh. You’re on board with Jarvy’s theory about patient zero for the Great Norovirus Crisis.

Brady’s laugh wraps around you like a hug and trails off into a brief cough as he catches his breath. “You and Svechy, beefing with a middle schooler,” he shakes his head, sounding a little breathless.

“For valid reasons,” you grumble, stumbling a little when Reese pulls on his leash. Brady’s fingers tighten around yours and you manage to keep your footing, but your heart pounds in your chest and you suck in a startled breath. Your head spins a little and you close your eyes to stave off the lingering nausea from your stomach lurching.

Brady’s hand is warm in your own and he squeezes your fingers to draw your attention. “Ready to go back home?” He asks, a concerned frown turning his lips downward. You nod and Brady whistles for the dogs.

It’s been the world’s shortest walk, just two blocks away from the house, but your head is throbbing and you’re feeling lightheaded. Brady still looks pale too, his jaw tight as if he’s trying not to vomit. He rubs the tips of his index and middle fingers against the space between his eyebrows and you know he’s probably developing the same headache you’ve got pinching your brain.

“I think we pushed it enough for today,” you murmur, tugging on the leash so Reese will come back from where he’s sniffing at a patch of flowers at the base of a tree.

Brady nods and he looks a little better after his pause. He leans in and kisses your forehead, where you can feel his lips turn down in another frown. “You feel kind of warm, sweetheart,” he says.

You tug at the neck of your sweatshirt and shrug. “Probably just a little overheated,” you start back towards the house. “I’m going to put shorts on when we get back, I think.” Your phone vibrates in your pocket and you pull it out, reading the texts on the screen as Brady talks.

“I think we need some lunch too,” Brady says, digging his phone out of the pocket on his hoodie. “I’ll order something. Even if we can’t manage all of it, we probably need something with protein.”

“No need,” you laugh a little, waving your phone in his direction. “Amy felt bad we caught the plague from Brett, she dropped off chicken noodle soup and fresh sourdough.”

Brady grins and pumps his fist, making you laugh even more. “Oh hell yes. I think I’ll be able to manage that,” he unclips the leashes from the dogs’ collars and lets them into your backyard, closing the gate behind them before following you up to the front porch. You cradle the giant brown paper bag in your arms like a baby.

“It’s still warm,” you sigh happily, wiggling your shoulders a little. “I love Amy, god, she’s the best.”

You kick off your slides and head into the kitchen, getting lunch ready while Brady pulls open the back door so the dogs can traipse in and out of the house. They’re both barking up a storm while they roll around on the lawn, so you figure you might actually have a minute to eat in peace. Brady reaches around you to pick a piece of the crust off the loaf of bread, popping it into his mouth with a happy little noise. You laugh a little under your breath at how adorable he is and finish divvying up the soup into bowls.

“Bigger bowl is yours,” you tilt your head and Brady sets a glass of ginger ale in front of you, tugging lightly on the end of your ponytail as he withdraws his hand. You lean lightly back against his chest, bumping your head against his collarbone and Brady dips his chin to kiss your forehead.

“Still a little warm,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shrug, “I’ll take another Tylenol and sleep in the guest room, just in case.”

Brady snorts and drapes one arm over your shoulder to hold you in place since you’re leaning heavily into him. “Sweetheart, if you’ve got a fever, I’ve probably got a fever. The house is germ central,” he rips a piece of bread off the loaf with his other hand and tosses it into his mouth. Around the mouthful, he continues, “no use in separating now.”

You’re not about to argue with him because you’re feeling clingy and needy, desperate for the comfort of Brady at your side while you’re recovering. So you nod and reluctantly let him step to the side to eat.

Amy’s soup is probably magic because you both manage to polish off your bowls, with Brady going back for seconds, and a few hours later, nothing threatens to reappear.

You and Brady spend the rest of the afternoon lazing around, disinfecting the house, and just generally relaxing in preparation for return to normal. You’re planning on working remotely, easing back into your inbox after three days away. Brady will see how he’s feeling, if he’ll go to practice. But for now, Brady sits on the floor, his back against the couch, and tosses tennis balls for the dogs to chase after and fetch.

“Please don’t hit the glass,” you sigh, sprawled out on your side on the couch, one hand propped up under your head and the other working its way through Brady’s hair, a mirror of Brady’s actions earlier in the day. The salt and peppered strands are soft under your fingers and you can’t resist tugging gently, just to get a reaction out of your boyfriend.

He groans low in the back of his throat, the noise sending a little wave of heat through your body. “I was a quarterback, sweetheart,” Brady grumbles, affectionate teasing laced throughout his tone. “I never miss my target.”

Sully comes bounding back with the tennis ball clamped in his jaw and Brady wrestles it away from the dog with a laugh, sending the tennis ball flying through the air and out through the open French doors. You can see it land with a little bounce in the grass before Sully pounces on it. Reese jumps on his brother and they roll around in the grass for a bit.

“Cocky, former quarterback Brady is my favorite version of you,” you tease, scratching your nails against his scalp.

He laughs and reaches back to rub a hand over the top of your head. You curl up a little, bringing your knees closer to your chest and Brady’s head by default. He shifts, turning to the side so he can look at you and wedge his hand in between your knees, fingers curling around the back of your thigh. Your hand falls from his hair, coming down to rest on his shoulder, fingers dipping beneath the collar of his shirt to brush against warm skin.

Brady’s head tilts to the side, cheek coming to rest on the edge of the couch cushion, trapping your hand. You flutter your fingers against his collarbone, smiling softly. His lips curl up too, lifting his cheeks and crinkling the corners of his eyes.

“Whatcha thinking, Mr. Skjei?” You ask quietly. “I can see your gears turning.”

“Nothing really,” he replies, tickling the back of your knee lightly. You squirm and press your knees together, squishing his fingers to try and get him to stop. “Just…been nice to relax with you.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, a skeptical smirk on your lips. “Norovirus was relaxing?”

“Well,” he snorts a laugh through his nose, “the last few hours were relaxing anyway.” He presses a kiss against the back of your wrist and brushes his nose against your skin.

A little shiver races down your spine, warm love for Brady flooding your entire body. He keeps his cheek pressed to the back of your hand and taps the back of your knee. “Think I can rejoin you in bed tonight?” He asks, breath warm against your skin.

“I’d really like that,” you grin, having missed his body curled around yours. Decamping to separate bedrooms had been a protective measure over the last few days since every time you heard Brady gag, you’d gone and puked.

The dogs traipse back inside and Brady shifts so he can stand and close the door, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth as he goes. Tomorrow the routine will go back to normal, but when Brady comes back and lifts your legs to sit on the couch next to you, your legs draped over his lap and your ass pressed against the outside of his thigh, you soak up the quiet moment in your little bubble.

[cypheroo]

How they care | Laurence Zvhal and Garroth Ro'Meave ~ ♡

"Cyph your favorite star is reporting from tge trenches (im sick) can I request a sick reader comfort with the boys™️ (Laurance and/or Garroth) idc which versuon also did yu see the s7 thing?"

Tw : Curse words. Spelling mistakes 😭 can be platonic or romantic?

Word count : 763

AN : HIIII! OMG OMG GET WELL SOON! I hope I finished writing this when you felt a little better! Super sorry on the wait again omg but! My thoughts on the new season are super weird bc like wooo! Nice amazing to it! And I'm glad that aph has cleared up (and will clear up) some stuff! Makes me feel better! also I SAW SOMEWHERE THAT LAURENCES VA SEBASTIAN TODD MUGHT COME BACK TO VOICE LAURENCE! AHHH THATS SO EXCITING FOR ME! outside of that, I'm happy that we are getting an ending! I haven't always loved jess but I will respect her for giving us these characters that sure aren't perfect but we love! Happy to see how she ends it and if her channel will change? (Probs not but I can dream) what do you think?

Garroth had been worried sick over you. Had you overworked yourself again? Maybe he hadn't been helping you as much as he should've been doing? Good god he needed to finish this paperwork. He really needed to make sure you were ok. He WANTED to race to your home as soon as he had heard, but he couldn't leave without feeling bad of not finishing his duty for the night, hell hed usually feel bad for even leaving the post especially at night, but you…you were so important, he knew he could trust laurence, dante, all of them to handle it for a night so he could make sure you were alright.

Immediately he rushed out of the guardpost. And immediately to your home. You had given him a key to your home so after he knocked he let himself in. He slowly walked up the stairs and once he saw you laying in your bed, sick and looking weak, he visibly tensed, he continued and before he could come to your rescue Laurence cleared his throat. “Aren't you supposed to be on watch?” Laurence raised a brow. Garroth was taken aback, he didn't even see Laurence in the cloud of his worry, “could say the same about you” the blonde responded with a soft huff.

Laurence rushed over almost immediately, he wasn't doing anything important so it was quite easy to slip away and visit you, there was no way in irene he wouldn't, you were home alone most of the time, who would make sure you didn't lift a finger? Well Laurence couldn't let that slide, so he spent most of his afternoon waiting on you hand and foot. Refilling water, Letting air in, distracting you (he doesn't want you to have any stress at this moment) in any way he could. It was later in the evening but when he saw garroth walk up the stairs laurence didn't know how to feel about seeing the blonde, yes it was nice to know garroth cared as much as he did, but it was so late at night? What was he supposed to help with this late at night?

You let out a soft laugh before sneezing, groaning after which both of the boys immediately looked at you, eyes filled with worry and willingness to run across the world if you so asked for it. But when you simply explained it was a cold that would be away within a few days it was clear these two would have none of that.

So instead of both of those goofballs taking care of you at the same time, they choose to instead switch, one day was garroth and the other was laurence, both would make sure the growing town of phoenix drop would be safe, but would also know you'd be alright and safe.

GARROTH :

- He's actually really careful when it comes to repeating sounds, loud sudden noises, and agitating sounds its odd sure but its something hes sensitive to when hes sick.

- A little careful about getting sick for like…just the first hour. But after he's in all honestly just took a bit to fully accept the costs.

- Makes soup and tea fucking immaculately, oh my god. Ask him to make that and goddess it'll taste so good it's like irene made it herself.

- He is the type to rest his hand on your head any chance he gets. He just likes to keep a feel of how warm you are. Although he feels slightly bad for his rough hands meeting your skin

- In all honesty, I don't think he's totally used to or knows how to take care of someone in such a vulnerable state like this, so as much as he's trying, he understands he may not be the best

LAURENCE :

- Pretty laid back but picks up on what you do and don't want him to do pretty quickly. Don't want him to.

- He seems like a quiet caregiver. Careful to not overwhelm you, he’ll clean around the room a bit to help out if you'll allow him.

- If you're comfortable with it he does personally find it helpful when someones talking to him when he's sick, so if you're ok with it, he's more than willing to sit down and ramble softly so you can doze off.

- He prefers to use a rag to help your face, a cool towel to help relax your heated body, or a warm towel if you are cold.

- He uses a lot of tactics he was personally raised with. Things that originally brought him comfort in hopes that they can help you too!