#i still cry silently to this day and i still won’t cry in front of ppl out of fear that they’ll get mad at me

[yay-depression]

the healing child abuse survivor moment of literally just mourning your child self. like, obviously, being neglected and abused a child will always hurt to remember that it happened but tbh for me the part that’s most hurtful is thinking about to my child self.

TW for descriptions of child emotional abuse and neglect below

what hurts more than anything is thinking back to seven year old me biting their fist and crying silently so their parents wouldn’t catch them and thinking “well if my dad doesn’t love me then i guess i’m just not worth being loved.” and how much that sucked. and how much no kid should ever feel like that.

it hurts thinking about how four year old me said to my mom “i wish i was as happy as my friends. i’m never that happy.” and she didn’t even take me to therapy for another two years, and i wasn’t diagnosed with depression for another eight.

it hurts thinking about how i was sitting in sub-zero cold every monday after school for months bc my dad forgot to pick me up for months. it hurts how my parents missed so many plays and school events and galleries that at some point i stopped wishing they’d even try bc it just made it hurt more when they said they’d come and then didn’t. it hurts thinking back to being 11 years old and having to manage my mother’s emotional response to me being hospitalized and realizing, at 11 years old, that there was no way for my mom to understand what i needed. it hurts thinking of the kid who had to learn to rely on themselves bc they slowly realized that no one else was fucking there for them in the way they needed.

and it really fucking hurts knowing now that those patterns don’t just develop overnight and there were repeated opportunities for adults around me to step in and stop the cycle and they didn’t. not even bc they didn’t care but bc they wouldn’t see. bc the society i lived in as a kid was set up to praise abusive behavior and laud the child who “responded well” to being abused. bc it never occurred to adults around me that the kid who “stepped up” and never set a toe out of line —the kid who parented other kids— could not feel safe at home, or could not feel loved. it never occurred to any adult around me that the kid who “had their shit together” and was basically a “mini adult” wasn’t being loved like they should have been, and wasn’t being taken care of like they should have been.

for me, what hurts more than thinking of the effects that child abuse and neglect have on me now, is thinking of the effects they had on me back then.

[luveline]

Hi, if you have time and any interest, would you write bombshell!reader comforting Spencer after the Maeve arc? Like maybe she’s the only one he lets in, and she just holds him and lets him cry and puts him first.

Will totally understand if you’d rather not/don’t reply!

ty for requesting!! <3 —You come home from months away to find Spencer in love and grieving, so you do what you can. fem, 2k

You didn’t expect Spencer to fall in love while you were gone, but you can’t begrudge him. Not for having feelings for someone who isn’t you, and certainly not for losing her. 

You love him, and you’re his friend first. 

Your shoes make sharp but steady sounds on the stairs up to his apartment. His building is old but not rundown, lacquered wooden bannister smooth under your hand, his front door immaculate, though the hallway is busy with baskets. There’s ribbon and cellophane everywhere. It’s a sorry sight. 

You haven’t brought Spencer anything besides dinner. Unlike yourself, you take in the offerings of his friends and worry you aren’t as caring as you think you are. 

Not that he seems in the mood to accept it. 

You look down at your mary jane’s and wonder if you’re doing any of this stuff right. Spencer doesn’t even know you’re back in the country, let alone the state. Perhaps he has no interest in seeing you after this long apart, and after such a tragedy. Who wants to see their too flirty friend when they’ve just lost a real love? 

You hike the tote up your shoulder. In a chequered skirt and a simple white t-shirt, you’re underdressed. The pasta you’d made and hurriedly wrapped up burns your hip where the bag rests against you, and you have to make a choice now. Let it burn you, standing and staring morosely at Spencer’s door, or face rejection. 

You only need to hear his voice. He can leave your pasta out here on the floor if he likes. What’s important is that he’s still alive in there. 

You knock on the door. 

Nothing. Complete silence. 

Nudging aside a basket of dried fruits, you try again. A simple rat-tat-tat. 

“Hey, Spencer?” you ask too quietly. 

He won’t hear you through the door. Your voice might as well be a whisper if he’s in his bedroom with the door closed. 

“Spencer, are you okay, my love?” you ask, louder.

You wince at yourself. My love couldn’t be more raw. 

“Sweetheart, I’m just here to see if you’re okay,” you say, knocking again, before leaving your hand to rest on the door. You lean forward, forehead kissing dark wood. 

You can’t hear anything on the other side. 

“Spencer,” you say with a reluctant swallow, “if you’re home, can you tell me? You don’t have to let me in. Just come to the door.” 

Penelope said he hasn’t texted her back for days. Derek said he’d answered the phone once or twice, but beyond that he’s silent. You had a nightmare on the plane home that you’d come back to find him as he’s found his poor girl, or that he’d turn to old vices, or that he’d finally give up. He’s been strong through every horrible thing thrown his way, and now he’s all alone again—

The door opens slowly. You stand up straighter, your surprise a whack to the chest as your heartbeat picks up. 

Spencer stands at the door. He looks more tired than you’ve ever seen him, his dark circles bruised like wine stains under his eyes, even his eyelids red and sore looking. His lips are almost colourless, they're so chapped, and his pyjama pants have deep, deep wrinkles at the knees. 

“Hi,” you say. “Spencer, how are you?” 

His voice rings with disuse. “You’re here.” 

“Came straight home when they told me,” you say softly, honestly. “I knew I had to see you. To make sure you’re okay.” 

“I’m not okay.” 

“I know.” You don’t know if it’s okay to ask to come in, if he’ll close the door at the suggestion, so you don’t. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” You put weight in the wrong places, too much on I’m, not enough on so. “I can’t imagine it. I would never wish this for you, never.” 

“You were in Brazil.” 

“I was.” 

He must be tired of people asking if he’s okay, yet it wants to be asked. You bite it down, and instead offer what may be the key to getting in, or a quick dismissal. 

“I made dinner for you, angel,” you say. You choose the pet name more carefully. He used to call you angel to make you feel better. “It’s just pasta, I tried not to make it too heavy in case you're nauseous.” 

“I feel so sick,” he says. 

Spencer’s curse is that he probably knows why he feels sick, and he probably knows a hundred different remedies or medications or prayers to get rid of it, but nothing can get rid of this feeling. You can be the smartest man alive and you’ll never outfox grief. 

“Will you come in?” he asks.

You breathe a short, unbidden sigh of relief. He steps aside to let you in, and you gaze around at his shock of mess, books and blankets and furniture all in the wrong places, but it’s to be expected, and it doesn’t bother you beyond that empathetic hum of hurt tucked under your ribs. You approach his couch covered in books and put your tote bag atop them, turning to tell Spencer you’ll just quickly move these aside, and stopping dead when you see him. The door closed, his face pale, Spencer looks like everything is crumbling down around him. He looks horrified to have to watch, and he looks as sick as he’d confessed. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” you say, meaning it at its surface value. You’re sorry you were in a different country while he faced this alone. Beyond everything you’ve shared, you’re supposed to be his friend, and in a way you’ve let him down. “Please forgive me if you can, Spencer.” 

He nods tightly. 

“Let me move some of this stuff and we can sit down together, is that okay? Or do you need to go back to bed?” 

“It’s okay.” 

You do it without the grace his precious books deserve, lugging armfuls of them onto the floor, no time for tidying. You make spacious room for him and you, and your gesture gently for him to come and sit, fingers moving through the air slowly with the suggestion; he doesn’t have to listen if he doesn’t want to. 

What is it about you that Spencer would let you in before anyone else? That he’d sit and watch you until you sat down, that his shoulders relax ever so slightly when you settle, your thighs aligned? 

Maybe he needs someone who wasn’t there to watch it happen, and maybe you’re like family. You and Spencer may not be in love, but you love one another. Seeing him like this has you wishing you could fix it for him so keenly it’s like your hands are bruised. Pins and needles eat your fingers as you hold a hand to his elbow. 

“What can I do?” you ask, murmuring so as not to disturb the quiet room. 

“Nothing, I’m sorry. I don’t have anything for you to do, I just…” He squeezes his eyes closed. “I just wanted to see you. You’re the only person who– who–”

His voice lifts to a strangled high pitch as he covers his eyes with one hand. 

“Can I give you a hug?” you ask. 

He nods into his hand but doesn’t move. You have no qualms with making yourself big, wrapping him up, and guiding his hand away from his scrunched up face to hold you back. 

You’re pretty pristine with hugs, as they go. You’re a soft touch. So Spencer holds you tightly and you cradle the back of his head, aware that you’re not who he really wants to be hugging, but okay with it nonetheless. “I’m so sorry,” you say, mouth to the top of his head, your hand stroking with light touches against the nape of his neck. “Spencer, it’s not fair.” 

He starts shaking in your arms. 

“The only time I got to talk to her face to face was with a gun to her head,” he says, his eye hot where it’s squished to the bottom of your cheek. 

“Honey, you had something special,” you say, sort of guessing, because you had no idea Spencer was even talking to someone. Everything you know about the situation you learned from Hotch, but you can read from his level of distress how much she meant to him. “You don’t need to have been face to face to have shared something like that. Love is about connection, and I’m so sorry you don’t get to see her, but you– I’m sorry. You didn’t get all the time you deserved.” 

You’d been trying to say that it doesn’t matter if he saw her or not, that their relationship was just as real no matter what, but you know he’s not just mourning her, but the possibility of a life with her he won’t get now. 

“I tried everything I had to save her,” he says. 

“I know you did. Sometimes we can’t do anything. It’s not your fault.” 

He makes a low sound. He’s a quiet crier, sniffling and shaking against your neck. 

You love him. Finding out he had a girlfriend was like being stabbed in the chest, an instant sickness, but finding out that she died? To see him in this much pain cuts deeper than a split second of thinking he’d moved on. 

“You did everything you could. You did the best that you could. Spencer, you could’ve done everything right and she still wouldn’t have made it, because the world is cruel. This isn’t your fault.” 

“It’s always gonna be my fault,” he says. 

“No, it won’t be.” 

“It will! I’m like a curse, we all are.” 

You don’t know what to say. You consider offering placatives, but they’d be empty, and Spencer would know. Instead, you scratch a hand through his curls and try your best to be gentle. 

“Well, I’m here for you. I know you know you have a whole team of people who want to be there for you, but I mean it, Spence. You can tell me everything. I’m here for you and I’m not leaving again.” 

“You don’t have to go back?” 

“I’m staying here.” For as long as you need me goes unsaid. 

Spencer should rely on the kindness of all of his friends, and not just you. He needs love. Grief is going to eat him alive, just like it did with Emily; he’ll need everything from everyone, and, no offence to your friends and coworkers, you’re the most committed to giving it to him. 

“I never should’ve left,” you say quietly, “but things are different now. You’re my best friend, Dr. Reid.” Your tone turns more playful. “I don’t cook for just anybody, you know?” 

Maybe it’s a bit cringeworthy, but you really want him to stop crying. 

He laughs weakly and wetly into your collar. “I don’t think I can eat it. I just throw everything back up.” 

Aw, honey, you think. “How about a thin soup? I can make you something without any heavy creams. I make the best chicken soup around.” 

“Do you?” he asks. 

You want to kiss his cheek as you would’ve before you left, but things really are different now. You settle for patting his shoulder. “I do. We’ll have chicken soup, and some fresh bread, and– and you won’t have to pretend you aren’t miserable. Promise. You can be as sad as you want, honey, I just wanna sit with you and make sure it doesn’t get too much.” 

“Thank you,” he mumbles. 

“It’s okay.” You don’t want a thank you. “I’m glad to be home. Do you think you can get dressed? Let’s go get some stuff for dinner.” 

Spencer, to your relief, gets up to get changed without complaint. He checks you’re still on the couch a few times from the doorway of his room. You have no plans on straying far. 

[miserycanary]

TELL ME THAT WE'LL BE JUST FINE ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶ ⤷ next

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: the aftermath (inspired by T.S Afterglow)

tags: light angst (no comfort/comfort? who knows)

The door creaks open, the cheeriness that you usually carry to greet Ghost by the entrance of your shared home nowhere in sight. The whole place was eerily quiet with his footsteps the only source of life. “My love..?” he calls out, peeking in the kitchen where you’d usually be sitting with a laptop in front of you, the food forgotten and burning. It’s usually unsalvageable and you guys would just agree on ordering take-out while he soothes and assures you that you don’t have to cook for him. 

His long legs quickly take him to the bathroom, hoping he’d see you washing up and offering him to shower along with you. The water would run high as you let him wash you up while chatting about your day, then you'd do the same to him and he complains about the “useless recruits”; the vice versa. Yet, there was no silhouette of you there. With a sigh, he closes the door and approaches the final room.

There, Ghost sees you laying down with your legs huddled close to your chest. He noticed the little hiccups— an indication that you’ve been crying— and that broke his heart. When he watched your figure walk away from him, he knew he fucked up and that he hurt you. Ghost calls for you once again with a gentle voice, trying to coax you. “Y/N..? Baby..?” He approaches the bed. The mattress dips as he sits behind you and placed a heavy hand on the shoulder he saw was developing a bruise. Just the sight of the darkening blemish almost made him throw up. He did this. He did this to you, his darling flower. 

After his skin made contact with yours, you flinched and distanced yourself like you’re afraid he’d hurt you again. The way you looked at him was so.. foreign and unusual. Like he was an animal that’s going to attack any minute. He stilled at your reaction, betrayed at how could you even think of him like that. Ghost stayed silent and so did you, only staring at the wall in contemplation. Finally, the silence was cracked by something much worse. At that moment, Ghost would rather endure a century of you ignoring him than to accept the words that came out of your mouth. 

“I’m leaving. I talked to one of my friends and she’s letting me stay with her,” you mumbled. The pain shooting through Ghost’s heart was unlike any other. It felt like he lost his heart— because he did. “What..? No, no. Let’s talk, baby,” he begs of you, clasping both your hands with his and peppers it with kisses, yet you only pull away. His lungs seem to not take in any air. Everything you say was inaudible to him. The only thing running through his mind was he was losing you. That he was losing the only thing that made life worth living— worth surviving each day because he knows he’ll always have you to come home to, with a smile so warm and a hug so comforting.

“No! I’m not letting you leave,” he cuts you off. The firmness in his voice sent shivers down your spine but you stood your ground. “Ghost,” you start. 

| ‘Don’t call me that. I’m Simon. I’m your Si. Why would you call me Ghost?’ 

“I’m tired of this, okay? I’m tired of you trying to act like everything will pass and that it could be fixed by just burying it under the mushy lovey stuff. I’m tired of never getting an apology from you because you cannot communicate.”

| ‘I know that. I know I’m not the best at talking but don’t leave me. I’ll do anything. Please’

Ghost stays silent because he knows everything you said was true, while you desperately look at his eyes. The hope that he’d finally muster the courage to talk and ask you to stay was slowly being forgotten. Was this all you’re worth to him? Were you not worth being asked to stay? Won’t he at least try? 

“I’m leaving and that’s final.” 

| ‘Please don’t let me go, Si. Please tell me you want me to stay and that you’re sorry. That you’d do better. Please just say anything. I’m going to stay with you if you just tell me to. Don’t let this be our end. Fight for me… fight for us’

“Okay,” he whispers, getting up and leaving you alone in the bedroom you usually would say carry the love you guys bloomed for 9 years with the walls painted with your memories and milestones with him. Now it serves as the grave of what you guys were— of what you and Simon had.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: part 2 is here!! I hope it passed people’s expectations.

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @fictionallifestuff

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

[misctf]

Singing a New Tune

Written for Occam's 2000 Follower Writing Challenge

“Babe, I love you.”

Jared smiled down at Julie, as she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him deeply. He had to imagine his girlfriend dreamed of this moment. A romantic kiss at a Tiffany Stabina concert as the star finished out her set with one of Julie’s favorite songs. A slow romantic song- one that Jared knew all too well from frequent replays in the car.  

“Anything for you babe.” He replied, holding her closely in his muscular arms, “I love you too.”

This certainly wasn’t his kind of music. And he didn’t understand the cult-like devotion to Tiffany. But seeing Julie this happy? Worth it. Still, he imagined the other straight dudes here were thinking similarly. In fact, he and the guy next to him shared several looks throughout the night. A silent comradery acknowledging they’d rather be elsewhere. And if they had been elsewhere, Jared would’ve asked the guy for his arm day routine.

“Alright babe, we ought to head out before...”

“To all my fans, I love you!” Tiffany called out, their cheers drowning Jared’s words, “You’ve all been with me from the beginning, and I am so grateful.” She placed a hand over her heart, “But you all know I’ve been criticized.” The fans all booed, “And they’ve come after you too.”

“A bit dramatic.” Jared chuckled, earning a glare from Julie.

“You wouldn’t get it.” She replied, “They go after he for everything.” The jock nodded, not wanting to risk ruining their perfect night, “But when she sings, it’s like she’s speaking directly to you. People just don’t get it.” Jared nodded. There were some things just not worth it.

“I wasn’t going to do this, but I have a new song for you all this evening!” The crowd erupted in screams and applause. Jared groaned, “They say I’m pandering? Then I’ll pander.” She continued, and the crowd got louder.

Jared knew there would be no way of getting Julie to leave now. And he silently dreaded the hours they’d be stuck in traffic. But as the song started and Tiffany’s words echoed through the stadium, his thoughts slowed.

“They say I only cater to a few.”

Jared felt lightheaded, the sound of the crowd growing distant.

“The gays and the girls, oh boo hoo.”

“Julie?” He whispered, but she didn’t respond, “Julie, please...” He felt sick. The world was spinning, everything becoming black, “Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He whispered. He couldn’t move. Was he dying? Was this it?

“But I won’t back down, I won’t apologize.” Jared looked up and saw her. Tiffany Stabina. Standing in front of him, “For making them feel alive.” She strutted towards the helpless jock.

“What...? How is this...?”

“I see you dancing in the dark, feeling completely torn apart.” She sang.

Jared yelped as he felt a cool breeze caress him. And to his horror, he realized he was nude. Butt naked in front of Tiffany Stabina no less. She grinned and approached him, circling his nude figure and wrapping her arms around him.

“Embrace your uniqueness, don’t hide.”

Jared gasped as she placed pressure on his shoulders. He felt the floor getting closer as he lost inch after inch of height. He now stood at eye level with the 5’6” popstar.

“Wait? What did you do to me?” He yelped.

“Now let my music take you for a ride.”

She ran a hand along his muscular arms. Her very touch sent a wave of pleasure straight to his dick, and he blushed as all 10 inches stood at attention. Tiffany smirked, but continued rubbing his biceps and triceps. Her sensual touch was intoxicated, and Jared watched helplessly as his proud muscles started to diminish. His biceps atrophied, followed quickly by his triceps. His slender arms giving off the appearance they hadn’t seen a gym in years. He tried to cry out, but Tiffany placed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him. He could only watch as her hands roamed his impressive pecs. He had always been proud of his pecs, and he loved when Julie rested her head on his chest. But now, he could only watch as they flattened away.

“Wait...” He was able to force out. But Tiffany was relentless, and her hands roamed down his abs.

He shed a few tears as his abs vanished, leaving him with a flat, slender tummy. There was no way this could be happening. It had to be some type of acid trip or something. Jared kept trying to reassure himself, even as she moved to his legs and quickly destroyed his muscular thighs and calves, leaving his legs slender and dainty. His feet followed, and quickly diminished from size 13s to 9.5s in mere seconds.

“My music is my contagion, unapologetic. Now we’re gonna collide.” Tiffany continued, this time wrapping her hands around his cock, “My fans are my tribe, I won’t divide.”

Jared felt like the wind was knocked out of him from both the pain and pleasure from her touch. And he watched as she shrunk his proud member. The young jock always knew he was well endowed. And he knew how to use it too. But as he watched his dick shrink from its proud ten inches to a mere 3 inches hard, he felt his confidence diminish.

“We’ll rise together, side by side.”

Her hands made their way to his flat ass. He tried to crane his neck to see what she was about to do. But he didn’t need to see. He could immediately feel his ass expand in her hands, filling them with firm, yet jiggly fat and muscle. He let out a moan as she caressed his basketball-sized ass cheeks, and he nearly came when she gave one a firm slap.

“Pl-please stop...” He begged as she placed a hand over his neck, “You can't do thith...” His voice cracked and he winced, “What’th happening to my voithe? Why do I thound like thith?” He begged, his voice cracking, “No, thith doethn't thound right.” His voice settled a few octaves higher, his masculine tone now lost forever.

“So bring on the hate, let the critics rage. We’ll keep on dancing, it’s time to turn the page.”

As she continued to caress his now slender body, and grind against him, he felt off. His dick  softened, as her physicality became less appealing to him. Her bouncing boobs and thick lips didn’t seem to do it for him. Even her touch was losing its pleasure. And he realized in terror what was occurring.

“No, not thith!” He begged, “Come on, come, think of thomething.” He remembered the BJ Julie gave him last night, and even the lesbian porn he watched a few days ago. But his measly member stayed soft, “No... pleathe...”

He felt Tiffany’s hand on his head. His pleading eyes met hers, and he knew he’d find no mercy. His hair restyled itself, and he felt a piercing pain in his left earlobe, which suddenly adourned a diamond stud. But her touch was doing far more than making a few style alterations. In his mind, his memories were shifting. Showering after football practice? Changing in the locker room after a lifting session with his bros? Watching football with his family?

“Oh god...” He moaned, as his small dick hardened and his ass throbbed with need.

He didn’t play football. He got fucked by the quarterback in the shower after a game. He wasn’t lifting at the gym. He was doing cardio and sucking off the gym bros between their sets. He didn’t watch sports like football. He just sat and scrolled on his phone, reading up on the latest Tiffany Stabina gossip and scrolling his socials. And as his new reality cemented itself, Jared’s eyes lost their intelligent spark and became half-lidded, his brain filling with celebrity gossip and how to please guys.

“This contagion’s here to stay, and we’ll celebrate it every day.”

She kissed him on the cheek. And with that, Jared was back. The cheers of the crowd filling his ears, as Tiffany thanked her fans and left the stage. Jared smiled.

“Oh my god! That wath tho amathing!” He cheered, “Tiffany! I love you!” He yelled, “It wath like Tiffany thpoke to me.”

“You felt that way too?” Jared turned and came face to face with a man of similar build. Albeit with slightly bigger arms, “Tiffany, like, totally thpeakth for uth.” He grinned as Jared felt up his arms.

“Wait!” A voice called out behind him, “Did you see the guy I came here with?” Julie asked, looking around desperately, “I swear, he was right here. I...”

“Thorry thithter, I hope you find him!” Jared replied, turning his attention back to the guy.

“Tho weird, thome poor girl athked me about her boyfriend too.” The man replied, “Probably got drunk and left to watch football.”

“OMG tho lame.” Jared laughed. The two smiled at one another, “Tho, like...”

“Wanna go back to my place? I have her latetht album.” The man winked, and Jared shuddered as his ass throbbed with need.

“That thounds delightful.” Jared replied, pulling the man in closer, his smile widening as the man squeezed his ass, “Oh! But like firtht I totally need a thelfie! I want everyone to know I thupport Tiffany and Tiffany thupports me!” He cheered, capturing their kiss on camera and posting it to his socials.

Later that night, Jared and his lover explored one another’s new bodies. Jared gasping at the size of his lover’s cock, moaning as he felt a firm hand squeeze his ass. His moans would continue to fill the room that night. With each thrust of his new lover’s dick, Jared was in heaven. Unaware of his former life or the horror it would bring his former self to see him like this. Just another horny slut- another gay twink dedicated to Tiffany Stabina.

[starjaeyun]

gatekeeper — tsukishima kei !

— tsukishima assures that he is not embarrassed of dating you, you think otherwise

warning/s : fem! reader, misunderstanding 😁 & a small fight at the beginning, profane language, tinsy bit of angst, fluff & crack from the second half ‘til it ends

note : had this little idea while writing a kageyama drabble so they might be quite similar

“just give up already”

y/n’s tip-toeing came to a stop. seriously? this was the 4th time this week! with an annoyed groan, she turns around, fists clenched, brows furrowed, and it looks as though a tick mark was formed on her forehead. behind her stood her oh so loving boyfriend, tsukishima kei, who somehow always catches her trying to sneak in the volleyball gym.

“oh c’mon kei! why won’t you let me watch your practice?!” tsukishima sighed, “we’ve talked about this” he grumbled, why does she have to be so stubborn?

“don’t talk like those romanticized, toxic boyfriends on wattpad!” y/n hits his arm, which barely does any damage to him, “and don’t act like them as well!”

tsukishima raises a hand to fix his glasses, “are you saying i’m toxic?”

“i never said that! i just said don’t talk and act like—”

“so you’re implying it?”

“well, you’re going to be if you carry on with that bullshit!” tsukishima grows silent and stares at y/n, who had seemed to be reaching the highest point of her annoyed meter, which would then slowly escalate into anger.

after a few seconds of silence, he spoke, “take these, don’t wait for me and go home. cool your head” in each of his hands were his hoodie and an umbrella, which he brought with him on the way to the gym incase it might rain before they’re able to go back to the locker rooms. with y/n giving no sign of taking it, he placed it on her foot and carried on walking past her.

“i don’t understand you” tsukishima comes to a halt, looking back almost immediately upon noticing y/n’s change of tone. crap, was i too harsh?

“why are you acting like that if you’re embarrassed of me?” he couldn’t tell whether she’s sad or angry.

“acting? acting like what? and what do you mean embarrassed?!” his tone immediately gave away his nervousness.

“in school or when you’re with someone else, you avoid and act like you don’t know me but when we’re alone, suddenly you’re taking care of me! make it clear whether you love me or not to save both our time because i am not about to start losing myself for a boy who can’t love me the way i deserve!” it’s clear that she wanted to say more so tsukishima stayed silent. “if you’re going to love me, at least be honest with me! am i embarrassing or not?!”

“of course not!”

“then why?!” it was a miracle that y/n was not crying nor shouting at the moment.

tsukishima fully turns his body this time, “what’s embarrassing is my explanation…” and the mood suddenly lightens.

“TSUKISHIMA, YOU BASTARD!” tanaka and nishinoya’s yelling made tsukishima sigh.

“you call me selfish but keep shimizu-senpai’s sister all to yourself” kageyama grumbles

tsukishima stands still. hands clasped together behind his back and head bowed down. he looks like a child getting a scolding, or how the the freak duo looks whenever daichi catches their slip ups.

nishinoya and tanaka kneels in front of the first year. head bowed down as if they were praising him, and that they are.

“on this day, we honor you. congratulations on getting a shimizu!” they say in unison.

“you’re overreacting” tsukishima simply says.

“nope, i, too, would congratulate you tsukki. no offense, but you’re not exactly the ideal boyfriend” yamaguchi says with a finger under his chin.

“mhm! so you better treat her right tsukishima! she’s like our little sister” sugawara’s smile does not look comforting at all.

“call me if you need help in buying gifts!” daichi volunteers happily.

“and me if you need advice!” asahi adds.

“why are you guys taking my job?” shimizu comments while giggling. “but, i do think that tsukishima is just right for my little sister” she turns to look at her sister who was now playing around with kageyama and hinata, “she’s as chaotic as those two, he’ll be able to handle her. so i trust that i won’t have to worry much?”

“of course” tsukishima didn’t seem like himself at the moment. his eyes seemed to have soften at the sight of his girlfriend. he smiled, though not too obvious.

“why are you smiling like a male lead in a drama?” tanaka teased. and though tsukishima hates expressing his emotions to his teammates, he certainly loves poking their annoyance scale, “because this is what it’s like to love and be loved”

“Why are you making it seem like kiyoko does not love me back! she does love me! right? right?” tanaka gave kiyoko hopeful eyes and received no response aside from her turning around.

“I’m not talking about platonic love”

“WHY YOU—“

“KEI!” apparently, while he successfully annoyed the second year, his girlfriend heard what he said and would definitely never let it go.

“when have you been so sweet?! love and be loved? seriously?!” she bounced up and down, hands on tsukishima’s shoulder for support.

“she’s no different from the freak duo, i’m afraid” sugawara comments and laughs along with the third years.

“but am i really that beautiful that you had to gatekeep me from your entire team?” she laughed, still bouncing, and tsukishima only stood there with his smile never seeming to fade.

“if that were me i’d be receiving his train of insults by now” hinata says, joining the rest of the team as they watched how tsukishima seemed to be a lot softer around y/n.

“you’re such a gatekeeper kei!” she teased, this time, she stopped bouncing and have started poking her boyfriend’s sides.

“that he is! how dare he gatekeep kiyoko-san’s sister?!” tanaka kneeled back down on one knee with a hand on his chest.

nishinoya followed suit, “and what’s annoying is that she reciprocated his love!”

© starjaeyun on tumblr | do not steal, copy, translate or repost

[idanceuntilidie]

Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗

Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--

Yandere Cheater x M!Reader

Requests are open

TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.

Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.

He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.

But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.

You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.

It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.

He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.

And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.

Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.

You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.

So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.

You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.

Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.

Ciaran.

Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.

“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.

“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”

[sanakiras]

TIDAL WAVE OF LOVE

PAIRING — choi seungcheol x reader

WORD COUNT — 1.3k

SYNOPSIS — even the strongest of people break sometimes. you’re used to hiding your feelings; your boyfriend is there for you when everything gets too much.

TAGS — angst, self-esteem issues, fear of failure, mc has a bit of a breakdown :(( but also a lil comfort

NOTE — cleaning out the drafts! this is wayyyy shorter than my usual works but i still felt like posting it <3 i had a very stressful semester in uni before the summer break and i came across this video on twt of coups giving wonwoo a little comforting squeeze which i found very endearing sooo that kinda became the inspo for this!

the moment he calls out a greeting to you from his kitchen, you close your eyes for a moment. it would’ve probably been wiser to have gone home instead of his place.

you greet him the same way, hoping he doesn’t hear the crack in your voice.

“how was your day?” he asks you once he’s returned to the living room, giving you a kiss.

you press your lips together. “fine. nothing special.”

the first thing he notices is the lack of eye contact you make with him. you’re also being considerably less touchy with him than usual, which he finds strange.

“everything okay?”

“yeah.” you put up a smile that doesn’t appear genuine in the slightest.

he figures you could just be in a bad mood — but that doesn’t seem to be the case.

he knows for a fact that it’s not with the way you’re trying real hard to hide your face from him. you only do that when you’re upset about something.

“baby, talk to me.”

“about what?”

the response comes out snappier than you meant it to. you two have been together quite a while — so he’s come to know that you tend to get a little colder and distant before the dam breaks.

you look at him so briefly to the point where he’d miss the motion if he blinked. the expression equals a silent apology.

of course he always does his best to give you whatever space you need. that being said, he’s also come to know you get into your own head a lot, and sometimes there’s someone who needs to pull you out of it.

you bite your lip in a pathetic attempt to hold back your tears. “it’s fine, cheol, just let it go.”

“well, i care about you, sweetheart. what’s going on?” he’s persistent but gentle about it. you have a habit of keeping your feelings to yourself and hardly ever letting anything out, which leads to everything just piling up and making things worse.

“i don’t wanna talk about it.”

the lump in your throat begins to rise.

“i can see that, but you’ve clearly got something you need off your chest. are you okay?”

you don’t show anyone when something’s wrong unless they mention it first. and even when they do, you’re hesitant.

it’s an exhausting way to live, but you still choose to do so.

it’s one of the reasons why you hate crying. your glossy eyes always betray you.

then you make — what you consider to be — the mistake of looking into his big, worried eyes once more, and you just completely fall apart in front of him.

the tears begin to flow before you can even comprehend it.

“it’s just—god, i don’t even know why i’m so fucking emotional, i just—” your breath shudders, the mildly angry expression that was previously on your face now nowhere to be found, “everything’s been so stressful recently, and i’m scared i won’t pass my classes, and i feel like such a slow learner compared to everyone else—”

he’s rubbing your back, just allowing you to you let everything out. he keeps quiet.

“i feel fucking fragile. and weak. every little thing is just too much right now. i’m sorry, i feel stupid.”

he lets you cry into his chest as his arms are wrapped around you, one hand softly rubbing the back of your head. “don’t feel stupid, baby. you can vent to me, always.”

the sound of your heavy sobs hurt him, because he feels like you’re always so hard on yourself, but he’s glad you’re releasing them. it’s healthier to let it all out than to keep it in.

“it’s just like i can’t breathe, y’know?” you mutter in the crook of his neck, subconsciously wetting his shirt with your tears, “i can’t take a single break ‘cause i’ll fall behind. i’m so tired. i feel like i’m not even smart enough to take the damn course, let alone pass the fucking test—”

once he feels like you’re about to start hyperventilating, he moves back to let him look at you. “long breaths. you’re okay, just breathe with me.”

he purposefully takes long, deep breaths, counting the seconds out loud to guide you, and it works. your breathing is steadying bit by bit, sobs faltering, melting into soft hiccups and numbness.

with dried tears and a slightly hoarse voice, you let out a sigh. “i just hate feeling so incompetent. for once, i’d love to feel smart. i wanna feel like i’m able to keep up as well as everyone else does, y’know? i’m… i’m procrastinating everything and i don’t know how to change it. it all sucks.”

“it’s not easy, baby. don’t be too hard on yourself.” he presses a swift kiss to your skin, and you hold him tighter, as if he were to slip out of your hold if you didn’t.

“it’s not easy for me. it is for them.”

“there’s nothing wrong with that. would you think differently if someone in your class had to put more effort into passing the course? you wouldn’t, right? because at the end of the day, you both make it to the finish line. that’s what matters.”

deep down, you know he has a point. you put the pressure so high on yourself, yet don’t apply the same logic to your peers.

you don’t really understand why.

“and you say it’s easy for them, but i know for sure that they put more effort into it than you might think. trust me. you’ll get to where you want to be, one way or another. if you take a little longer to do that than a classmate, who cares. it’s your life. i know you’ve worked so hard—” he twirls a strand of your hair between his fingers, “even if you don’t pass that class now, it won’t be the end of the world, and there’ll be another chance. you’ll get there.”

now there’s just a few last tears running down your cheeks. “except i’m worried that i won’t.”

“you will. and once you do, you’ll be happy that you got to that point because you worked hard and deserve that success. if not today, then tomorrow. yeah?”

you take a deep breath, exhaling slowly, the last shudders of your breakdown bubbling to the surface as your heart rate finally slows back to normal. “yeah. thank you.”

to show your gratitude, you give him a hug, which he happily embraces, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“anytime. i’m here for you.”

even the strongest of people break — but they can still pick up the pieces and start over.

do your best (but maybe not sometimes) <3

® SANAKIRAS — do not repost, remake or copy my work in any way whatsoever. translations are not allowed.

[risuola]

THANK YOU, MOM — F. READER x MEGUMI FUSHIGURO, who calls you mom for the first time

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about.

cw: fluff, brief description of an injury, blood; reader is Satoru Gojo's wife — 1k words

a/n: I rarely write for Megumi in a sense of romantic topics, but I absolutely a d o r e the concept of him being Gojo's son. sorry not sorry, I'm in a desperate need for some fluffs

Happiness. A state, that psychologists define as a subjective well-being that a person experience. Happiness is as fickle as the wind. It comes and goes, sometimes in a rush of joy and sometimes in a lull of melancholy. Sometimes it’s as simple as a hot cup of coffee or a kind word from a stranger, but true happiness is a feeling that you couldn’t describe, even if you’d try. The warm, comforting sensation in the pit of your stomach, as if everything in the world was right where it should be.

Up until that point, you thought you were in that specific state many times. When Satoru asked for your hand, you were happy. You’re almost ecstatic every time you see your students’ successes. You tend to be overjoyed by the littlest things and if anyone asked you if you ever felt happiness, you’d most likely say yes.

But that day you realized that you never had a chance to experience the true, heart-clenching, tear inducing happiness before. Though you had shed some tears when at the altar you were staring into those beautiful blue eyes of your now husband, but not even once before you had an urge to ugly cry because you were so happy. Not before Megumi called you mom.

It happened in the privacy of your home, late into the night, when after a mission particularly roughed him up, he showed up at your doorstep late at night. Once you swung the door open, the sight of his bloodied uniform and the red gushing out of a wound on the side of his stomach made you forget how to breathe, your heart skipped a beat and time seemed to fade away. Quickly you led him inside onto the couch and gathered supplies to aid him. He should go to Shoko, both of you knew it, but you were also able to use reversed curse technique to some extent.

“What happened?” You asked him, carefully taking off his uniform jacket and lifting his shirt to assess the damage. You knew he’ll make it, you knew you won’t let him go, and yet you felt the terror inside your veins when his pale skin was right in front of your eyes, stained in fresh blood.

“Just a scratch,” he mumbled, his voice was out of breath, it was saturated in pain that you knew he tried to hide with the soft shrug he did. “A curse was stronger than it was supposed to be, and uh…”

You were going to confront Satoru with that information. It wouldn’t be the first time he pushed his own mission onto his students. Tough love, as he used to call it, learning through challenge and it worked, mostly, but seeing your boy struggling still made your heart clench and your eyes swell with tears.

Megumi was used to handle things on his own, taking care of himself and barely asked for help, but this time he couldn’t deal with the damage alone and you were the first person he thought about. He had always thought of you as the strongest person he knew, even though you were a wife to Satoru Gojo, but to Megumi, it was you who had given him the closest thing he had ever had to a parent. He felt small and vulnerable, heavy underneath your gaze so full of love and concern that and at the same time, light as a feather because somehow, your soft voice and caring hands had the ability to take the weight of any burden off his shoulders. He sat still while your cursed energy was healing his injuries, silently admiring the effort and compassion.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you sighed once the adrenaline in your system began to wear off. Megumi was fine. Injured, but fine, nothing threatened his life anymore. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you.”

“I’m okay,” he reassured, leaning his head back. The blood loss was getting to him, he was paler than usually, his forehead covered in sweat and he was panting slightly. Once done with the wound, you cleaned the blood as much as you could and quickly grabbed a clean, wet towel, a fresh t-shirt from Satoru’s closet and a blanket.

Sitting next to the boy, you pulled him gently onto yourself so he could lean against your chest, with the compress on his head and a cover over his body to keep him warm. Only then, feeling the steady beat of your heart and the warmth around him, he began to relax.

That was something Megumi remembered from his youngest years. When Satoru took him and his sister underneath his wing, you were there also and as much as Gojo had no paternal instincts towards them, you were always full of love. Countless times he was falling asleep cuddled to you, you were the safest place on earth for him and even now, as he’s already almost an adult, your embrace is something he’s always happy to come back to. Though he wouldn’t say it out loud, of course. But now, he could feel his body releasing the tension, his fight-or-flight mode slowly turning off because there was no need for him to stay alarmed when you were next to him. When your arms were around him, protecting him from the world itself. And hence why his mouth formulated these words without him thinking much of it.

“Thank you, mom.” Oh. The word left his mouth despite the fear he felt. Megumi had always been afraid to call you his mother, even though he thought of you as such. He was worried it would feel too close, too intimate and though he wished to let you know how much you meant to him, he was worried you’ll get angry. He realized what he said when it was already too late. “I’m s-sorr—”

“Don’t thank me, Megumi,” you cut his apologies, gently tightening the hug. You couldn’t describe the way you felt in this moment. It was such a simple thing, but it meant everything to you. That had to be the real happiness. “I'm always here for you, whenever you need me. And I love you too, you know?”

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝑺𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝑨𝒔𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒐 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 𝑺𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝑻𝒐 𝑯𝒊𝒔 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 𝑨𝒍𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆 (𝑫𝑬𝑨𝑫 𝑫𝑶𝑽𝑬) MDNI 18+

In a world where curses rule and jujutsu sorcery is near dead, you caught the eye of Sukuna Ryomen. Everyone thought you would tame the beast, but boy were they wrong...

Warnings: rough, brutal, gore, blood, murder, curse sukuna, true form sukuna. Minors, blank and ageless blogs will be blocked.

Read the original here

His fingers dripped with the blood of the man who used to be your boss. Crimson droplets found their way down his hands, to his forearms, in pretty dark rivulets caressing the muscles that were straining under his skin.

Even in the darkness of the lightless office, the terror on the man's face was visible.

The same man who’d been chastising you for days now could only drop to his knees and beg for dear life.

“Please–please–I’ll never say a word to her again. Please I’ll leave, I won’t come back. I’ll—”

Sukuna cut him off with a swift kick to the head. There was a sickening crunch where his calf met the skull and the man’s already sorry figure slumped over on the floor.

“You’re right about that. You won’t be saying a single word to her ever again. And you won’t be coming back. I’ll make sure of that right here.” Sukuna reached out and lifted the man by his throat, crushing his windpipe like it was made of eggshell.

Blood squirted out, hitting Sukuna in the face, and dripped onto the floor – everywhere but he didn't flinch.

The Curse finished off the man in front of him by plunging a hand into his abdomen and ripping out organs, flesh, muscle — anything that dared to come in the rampage path of his fingers.

He let go, dropping the carcass into a heap on the floor.

The whole time Sukuna worked, you stared at him. He took care of the problem that had sent you home irritable and crying for the past month, made your anxiety spike several notches, and left you questioning your self-worth. You were incredibly aroused by him. Here, in the little office your boss kept reprimanding you in, he had finally got what he deserved, all thanks to the man in front of you.

Your legs moved on their own and you found yourself walking upto the man. A silent rage stormed just below the still facade he kept up for your sake. “He dared to hurt what is mine…” Sukuna’s voice rumbled like the low call of thunder.

“Ryo…” you called out softly.

A bloody hand shot out and grabbed you by the hair, pulling you into his tight embrace. “He dared hurt what is mine!” Sukuna roared.

Sukuna groped you from below, lifting you up to his face with ease. His fingers dug into the soft fat of your ass and he squeezed it territorially.

The fluorescent light of the street lamp outside lit a side of his face. Sukuna in his true form towered over you – a hulking figure that was as large as he was strong.

But the gentleness with which he kissed you was nothing like his visage. His free hands tangled in your hair, smearing blood all over you, but you didn't care. Nothing mattered right now but him.

Sukuna ripped your dress in half from the front, laying you bare in front of him. His mouth attacked the skin of your chest, sucking and nipping at your tits.

“You're – kiss – fucking – kiss – MINE!” His hands grabbed your breasts and he sucked and licked at your nipples. Below, the mouth on his stomach seemed to have woken, and his large tongue was pushing your panties aside and prodding at your weeping cunt.

The torn fabric fluttered about you when Sukuna lifted you onto your ex-boss’ desk. He cleared it with a sweep of his arms, the monitor and papers crashing into the floor in a messy heap.

Sukuna spat on your clit, and with two fingers rubbed against it hard. His two cocks were already at attention, and all he had to do was to part his robe to sink himself into you.

The pull was unbelievable. Your rim burnt struggling to take him. But Sukuna was merciless. He lowered his head with an animalistic growl and bit at your shoulder. You screamed in pain coupled with a confused pleasure. Something warm and thick trickled down your back, and you realised that Sukuna had broken skin. His tongue lapped at the blood dripping from you.

Sukuna’s second cock brushed against your clit with each thrust and you felt your pussy dripping with need.

No words were exchanged. Just a cry from you and Sukuna’s mouth found yours. He captured your lips in a heated kiss – all tongue and teeth.

His hands kneaded at your breasts, where a tongue encircled your nipple, working in tandem with his fingers to tease and tweak the soft fat.

“Ryo…” you tried again.

“Shh, let me take care of you.” He groaned into your mouth. “Such a good little pet. All for me. Gonna fill you up with my seed. Make you carry my heir.”

“Ryo please…” you begged. What for, you didn't know, but it pleased him.

He smiled and lifted you. Using your body like a toy, he slammed you onto his cock over and over. Your tits swung in his face and the sight made him feel his release was near. He slammed you back on the table and climbed on top on all fours, lifting your legs over his shoulders as he thrust into you with renewed vigour.

You heard a creak under you, and Sukuna lifted you into his arms, thrusting deep inside where his cock jerked, spilling his come in you. In between your two bodies, his second cock also squirted out a sticky white come that coated your tummies.

Despite being covered in his release and blood, and your clothes tattered, Sukuma lifted you in his arms and held you close.

“No man will ever hurt you again, my queen.”

He walked out, stepping on the remains of your ex-boss. The room was in shambles – table broken, papers scattered.

But you didn't need to bother. Your shitty boss wouldn't be telling you off for it after all...

AN: HI. THIS WAS SELF INDULGENT. BYE.

Big thanks to @ominouslywritinginmyhead for proofing and beta

[2ndkaiser]

could you do post crash reader relationship headcanons please. The reader is doing their best to keep him alive and is planning jimmys downfall and saving everyone in the tulpar crew and being ready to file a big lawsuit against pony express

𖦹 POST-CRASH CURLY X GN!READER ONESHOT

Of course I can. This prompt was fun to work with, hope this satisfies your request.

Word count: 990

Contains: Oneshot, angst with comfort, Curly x GN!reader

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, violence, Curly’s trauma

⟡ ݁₊ . Notes: Assumed that Curly is reader’s husband. Please message me if I left out any warnings.

BEYOND THE STARS, BENEATH THE LIES

The only sounds that seem to occupy the ship these days were the soft, robotic screeches coming from the doors. The Tulpar — where you once sat in the lounge with the crew, in front of the artificial sunset chatting away — now, devoid of that sense of familiarity.

Never would you expect this to happen. Never. Your husband, Captain Curly, crashed the ship? How could such a selfless man suddenly abandon everything he stood for and transform into the root of the threat to the whole crew? It didn’t add up a single bit.

Your feet carried you along the corridor, heels dragging across the cold floor beneath as you became lost in thought.

The same robotic sound of the door you started to feel sick of signaled the medbay’s door opening — opening to your sweet Curly. You weren’t even focused anymore, the only thing inhabiting your brain was Jimmy. It felt so off. He felt off.

A low cry escaped the teeth of the former captain in front of you, reminding what you initially came here for.

“Hey sweetheart,”

You knew he couldn’t respond, but that didn’t change anything. He was still Curly. The Curly you knew. The Curly who would never even think of committing such an act.

“How’re you holding up Curls?” You shot him a gentle smile, although you already knew it wasn’t near possible for him to ‘hold up well’.

It was evident his pain was heightened, judging by the wails he let out, it has been approximately 8 hours since he took painkillers, but in your presence his noises slowly died down into quiet whimpers.

“Let me take care of you, yeah? I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. I won’t hurt you.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞

It was a time-consuming task — gently pressing the painkiller down his throat, using water to help it go down, carefully removing the blood-soaked bandages and disinfecting each part of his body, replacing the bandages with tender precision, and making sure his eyes didn’t dry out. The shortage of bandages weighed on your mind, adding to the growing worry in your chest. The process usually took over an hour, and every movement had to be precise, every action gentle. But none of that mattered. You’d do anything — anything at all — to keep Curly alive.

Following the now-silent whimpers, you noticed that Jimmy was still residing in your head. His presence felt so off-putting. But you knew that Curly wanted Jimmy on this ship. That was what he stated. But at this moment, you couldn’t help but sense that your husband wanted the opposite of that right now.

You could see it. After Jimmy started to feed Curly his pills instead of Anya, you couldn’t help but notice how suppressed his cries had become — not to mention — the first time Jimmy fed him his painkillers, it sounded like Curly’s cries turned into loud weeps, pleading for mercy.

Seeing your husband in pain was unbearable.

“Curly, my love,”

Curly’s azure gaze which now appeared to be fading in colour due to the lack of eyelids, studied your expression.

In a hushed tone, you hesitantly asked, “Does Jimmy hurt you?”

His sapphire eyes stuttered then flickered left, it was the only way for you two to communicate right now, you established this method after acknowledging his inability to voice his thoughts, and this way he could ‘speak’ by moving the only part of his body he could: his eyes. Left signaled yes, right for no.

Yes. Yes you’re beloved Curly was being tormented. Yes you have failed to recognize Jimmy’s abusive behavior. Yes you have failed to protect him.

You couldn’t even pinpoint what you were feeling at that moment. Fury, regret, shame, sorrow — and the strongest of them all: guilt. Each emotion is blurry and indistinguishable from the others.

It felt like your brain was in a completely static state, unoccupied with thoughts, replaced with heightened emotions. How could this be?

You weren’t that ignorant, were you?

“I’m so sorry… I’m so, so sorry, Curly… I—” Your voice cracked, the weight of the words too much to bear. “I didn’t see it—didn’t understand until it was too late. I failed you. I failed us. I’m such a terrible person. I—” You gasped for breath, hands shaking as you gripped the edge of the bed, regret swimming in your irises. “I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for any of this to happen…”

Your voice broke into a whisper, barely audible. “I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry. I wish I could undo everything. I wish everything was reversible.”

The cold metal edge of the bed rested against your forehead, as if it was attempting to cool your head. As your body was engulfed in a sickening feeling, the gentle touch of a brief graze caused you to jolt, lifting your face up to see your lover, aiming to nuzzle his face into your hair as a sign of forgiveness and longing. A tear streamed down his cheek which you could only imagine was stinging severely.

“Listen to me, honey, I swear I’ll get us to safety. I’ll figure this out, I promise. We’ll make it home—together. We’ll leave Jimmy behind, let the police deal with him. He won’t ever hurt you again. I won’t let him. I’ll make sure of it. You’re not alone in this. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll sue this goddamn company, get the money we need, and start fresh. A new life, far away from all of this. No one, not even that… that unhinged maniac, will be able to get to us. Not ever again. I swear on everything, Curls, I’ll protect you. We’ll make it through this, I promise, okay?”

Another whimper left his throat, only this time, the whimper was more of a hum. A hum of agreement and comfort — and with that, his eyes flickered left again.

Finally finished, hope this is up to standard for a one-shot. Genuinely, I don’t know if this was what you were looking for but I’m hoping it is. Apologies if it isn’t.

Sorry for inconsistent uploads, I’m most likely going to posting slowly for a few weeks since I’m not exactly the freest man. Farewell.

[loaksbitch]

the long awaited part two is here! — imagine neteyam is now suffering from his own actions, everything turning to a hell for him, he’s even distant to his family… and you? you’ve decide this is enough and feel like you don’t belong here so you tell neteyam you’re leaving the clan soon and neteyam feels like salt is added to his open wound when he hears about that.

warning – neteyam cries 2.0 (i’m evil, i know) angst angst angst! mention of y/n’s adoptive mom, nete kinda slips from his own body and loses control, nete stills cause oc with pet names :(, vulgar language, did i mention its angst? yeah maybe i did but again we have ANGST!! 3.1k wc.

“i can’t trust you” — neteyam sully (★,꩜)

part (one) – (three) — (four) of this series.

right after you left the love of your life, where you gave yourself to him, you couldn’t stop crying mess.

rage, confusion and pain blinding your eyes you didn’t care how the na’vi gave you glances every time you passed them without greetings given back.

you’re now in front of your mother’s shelter and swallow the lump on your throat not wanting her to see you like that. you push yourself inside and turn your face to the side so she won’t notice your puffy eyes.

“hi ma,” you greet her and her ears instantly perk up at your warm tone. “my sweet child, you cam– what’s wrong?” she knew you like no one did, you adoptive mother read you like a book.

when she finally asks what’s wrong you instantly breakdown in front of her, “mama.” you cry as the na’vi stumbles to you hurriedly, “what is it baby? what’s wrong?” she keeps wiping the tears that fall

this felt like the first time she found you lost in the woods, right after your biological mom abandoned you.

crying, scared and open.

“it hurts, make it stop ma, please make it stop.” your chest heaves up and down. your mother instantly knew something happened between you and neteyam, of course she’d know about the two of you.

“he…” you can’t even finish the sentence, “lied, he lied.” you struggled and your mother sighs

“oh my baby,” she pulls you for a hug and you hide your face into the crook of her neck crying again. no matter how she tighten her hold on your violently trembling body, she couldn’t stop the shattering feeling of your heart

you stood there hugged and vulnerable, seeking for comfort from your mother.

then there’s neteyam, who got to deal with the pain he created alone and secretly, he didn’t even get the chance to cry or comfort himself.

your words echoing in his drained mind, neteyam climbs back to his hammock. “i. hate. you.” those three words were enough to convince him you really do hate him. neteyam lied to you and you hated being lied, he knew everyone from your childhood lied to you

he knew it took you so much of sacrifice to give him a chance, he knew yet he destroyed you, he destroyed your heart. he can never forgive himself for that and he doesn’t want you to forgive him either.

neteyam chooses to suffer double than watch you break like that? he actually wishes you’d kill him right now but then again he deserves to live with this pain.

“i’m sorry.” he whispers as if you’re next to him and hearing him apologize. neteyam leans on the tree that’s helping the hammock stand in the middle of his room and slowly slides down to sit on the mat

“i’m so sorry, princess.” he knew you’ll never let him in again.

neteyam brings his legs to his chest and puts his arms on his knees before using them to lay his head. silent yet deep sobs left his lips as his chest tightened.

how was he supposed to live without you? without your skin against his? without your scent in him, without your smile to start his day… most importantly, without your love.

and now that neteyam have came to realize that, the perfect little solider has finally became defeated.

“i’m sorry.” he kept apologizing as he drifted to sleep, his beautiful face stained with tears.

and now five days passed, neteyam became distant with his family. no more breakfast eating with them, no more tuk and him moment, no more staying up all night with lo’ak and kiri to cause trouble.

no more in love with everything and colorful neteyam.

and his mother didn’t fail to notice him, notice how his behavior has changed. “something’s wrong with our son, ma jake, there’s something so wrong.” jake hums thinking neteyam is just getting more and more stronger and only practicing

“he’s just focusing on himself and training my love, you don’t have to worry.” jake says as he sharpens his weapons for the next war party

“no, you don’t understand” neytiri places her hand on jakes shoulder worriedly as their son kept himself inside his hammock, not wanting to interact with anyone of them. “he barely eats and drinks, barely plays with tuk she even started to ask for him.”

neytiri continued, “all he does is spend time on training, overworks himself and sneaks inside at midnight thinking i wouldn’t notice.”

jake frowns, this was new.

“neteyam started sneaking?” jake’s surprised tone makes netyiri sigh. he’s not taking things serious. “ma jake.” she warns when he tries to joke with a “neteyam’s finally being a spoiled brat huh?”

“okay okay, sorry but i’ll talk to him” jake cups his mates face and smiles, “maybe he’s having a hard time with being the future leader of the clan,” jake sighs “or maybe his new mate? he’s trying build some muscle, baby, don’t overthink it.”

neytiri only closes her eyes as they’re both sat in their hammock. “alright.” she voiced out.

right when jake was about to place a kiss on his wife’s lips, neteyam pulls the hanging fabric to the slide and walked straight to the front door. both his parents flinch at his sudden appearance.

“where you going, son?” both of them ask in unison making neteyam halt his steps.

“training and hunting.” he doesn’t turn to face them and neytiri insists. “you’ve been going out too much lately, nete’ don’t you think you need a break?”

“i’m fine mother.” with that being said, neteyam leaves the hammock while jake comforts his wife whose eyes tear up in worry.

neteyam didn’t fail to notice how his mother sounded worried and he hated that he caused that, but he doesn’t want them to figure out what’s wrong. he can’t risk your safety if they find out without you two communicating.

what if they hurt you? what will he do?

“look who’s finally out,” familiar voice sips to neteyam’s ears and neteyam closes his eyes, can they not just leave him alone? no, not really. lo’ak chuckles as he swings down the branch he was hanging on and jumps next to his brother

“where’re you going big bro?” lo’ak asks but gets ignored, “hey, you know i’m talking to you…”

“leave him skxawng, he’s in his emo arc.” kiri lets a sarcastic laugh out making the heartbroken man annoyed. “yeah? he’s seriously ignoring his one and only siblings” lo’ak keeps pushing his older brother

“can you guys leave? i want to be alone if you can’t see.” neteyam hisses under his breath but it falls to deaf ears. “damn bro, look at those growing muscles.” lo’ak turns to his sister and chuckles

“must be for his future mate, äyea.”

now lo’ak did a little bit of a mistake here, neteyam was now breathing through his nose, jaw clenched as he got his brother pinned to one of the trees. “i fucking told you to leave me alone, didn’t i? and don’t even dare to bring that name up here, again.”

lo’ak’s eyes are widened when his brother has him pinned to the tree, something dangerous flashes in his amber eyes and lo’ak lets a soft gasp out before being his hands up on air as a surrender.

“can you two stop? you guys are so immature.” kiri huffs out but neteyam only glares at his brother, “neteyam!” she calls out and once neteyam gains himself back, his eyes widens at the state. “shit, sorry.” his ears flatten, “i’m sorry lo’ak.”

both siblings take a glance at each other and lo’ak awkwardly chuckles. “it’s all good bro, you okay?” neteyam only nods before pushing himself out far away from everyone.

everywhere he goes, he kept hurting people and it’s destroying him.

once he was far enough from everyone he couldn’t help but allow himself to walk to the familiar place he finds comfort. the first place he saw you and got swept with love right away.

meanwhile neteyam was walking there you’ve actually managed to leave your hammock after days, well not managed but your mother was the one who threw you out to take some fresh air and communicate with eywa for a while

you couldn’t help but let you feet wander and take you to one of the places that are dear to you in pandora and your village. it was the shores that had glowing fish. the first time you met neteyam and you got your whole body woken up with butterflies.

you’re squat and twirling your hand in the edge of the ocean when you softly giggle as the glowing fish touches your hand with its soft fins. but that giggle didn’t live long when instant memories flood your mind.

“this one is honestly pretty.” you watch the glowing fish circle your feet that’s dipped in the ocean with your man next to you and you hear him hum agreeing but his eyes were only on you

“it really is.” he murmurs and when you notice it, you can’t help but realize your cheeks are heated up.

that was when you two shared your first kiss, of course it was a shy moment but on eywa you swore how good neteyam was, he was basically eating your face. “nete,” you’d sigh to his mouth when he leans and pressed his forehead against yours.

“it’s okay, it’s okay.” he would calm you by pulling you close to him as you’re both hanging your legs in the ocean. he would always place kisses on your skin every time you panic, thinking you’re doing something wrong

you missed that moment, you miss him but you can’t let those feelings win over and forget what he did.

you pull your hands out from the water, pushing those memories away and adjust your balance while you’re still squat and put your chin on your knees. “i miss him,” you speak and watch the fish wiggle around and smile, “you miss him too?” you ask it as if it would reply

you didn’t notice the subtle movement that’s made behind you in the woods as you talk to the animal you playfully adopted as your child with neteyam

neteyam in other hand freezes at his spot when he notice your familiar figure by the edge of the ocean. you’re silent before you let a soft giggle out and neteyam breathes out a laugh as he felt his eyes whelm

he really missed that sound of yours.

“i miss him,” your words catch his ears and his tail swings side to side like a dog. “you miss him too?” you ask as if you’re talking to someone and neteyam catches the fish you two jokingly adopted wiggling at your touch

his heart swells up with emotions.

you still haven’t noticed your used to be man watching you from the woods and sigh before deciding it’s time to leave, you need to distract yourself before you soon start to cry again

once you’re up on your feet, you turn around and your eyes catch the shadow of the tall figure with its tail moving. you let a loud scream out, startled and stumble on your feet only to trip and fall to the ocean.

“fuck!” neteyam curses when your eyes catch his and you’re instantly falling to the water.

“no, no, no!” neteyam was quick to run to you, you suddenly feel someone pull you and snoop you to their arms around your body before stomping out of the water to get you out of there

you’re confused and want to know who it is until a familiar scent helps you recognize who that was, you wanted to call his name out so badly but you just kept yourself silent until he got you to the sand.

once neteyam places you on your feet, you’re bombed with question about safety.

“did you get hurt? want me to carry you? baby, talk to me!” you don’t miss the pet name and don’t know know which to answer. “can you shut up?” you ask and he instantly obeys, “mhm.”

“i’m okay, thanks.” you’re curious to know what he was doing here.

“what’re you doing here?”

“what are you doing here?” he questiones back and your stomach drops. ��because i miss you?’ you wanted to say but chose to stay silent and start to leave when neteyam suddenly grabs your hand. you’re stood there for a moment before you’re slowly turning to give him a deadly glare.

“what did i say about touching me?”

you’re so dominant it drives him insane, but neteyam heard you say you’re missing him and he has now some hope to relay that you still love him. “can we talk?” his voice is almost silent when he says that

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you dryly reply

neteyam nods and adjust the bow on him he brought for hunting, letting go of your wrist and you instantly miss the warmth but doesn’t show it. “i want to explain that–“

“you don’t need to explain yourself to me like you owe me something neteyam, it’s over for us.” you watch him battle himself from breaking down and swallows hard. you feel the atmosphere turn awkward.

“i heard you, y/n” you glance away from him feeling caught at stealing something. “you said you miss me.” his freckles are glowing and it makes you want to run your fingers on his skin where they exactly are.

“i do miss you” you’re honest and didn’t miss his little whimper when you say that. “but that doesn’t mean i’m not working on to get rid of those feelings.” your words hurt like a bullet being stuck in his chest and neteyam knew that feeling.

“you can’t say that,” he says, ears flattened and eyes hazed with hurt. “i can’t?” you sarcastically remark and scoff before trying to leave. “princes– y/n.” as much as him correctly himself from calling you his princess hurts you, again you manage to cover it up

neteyam feels his heart crack for the thousand times when you flinch away from his touch. “can you stop doing that?”you hiss and he knows you’re trying to protect yourself so bad, neteyam knows this is not you but the stupid shield you try to cover yourself with

“drop the act, y/n stop pushing me away.”

“you’ve a mate and i can’t do that to your future love so don’t touch me.” you’re using his actions against him to protect yourself. neteyam is annoyed now, he was to rip something apart or kill someone.

“look, i know i fucked up but that doesn’t mean…”

“yeah, it doesn’t mean anything, nothing matters.” you say and shut your eyes before taking a deep breath. his next words makes your brain rick in anger.

“can’t you just trust me?!” he dared to raise his voice at you. but in fact, neteyam was only raising his voice up to cover the quivering sound of his voice and stopping himself from crying in front of you

you take a step right to him and click your tongue.

“trust you?” you’re forcefully chuckling now. “i trusted you, neteyam, i trusted you so much but where did that lead me?” you’re poking his chest with your index and neteyam closes his eye before opening them and looking at you

you see something in him shift and realize he’s trying to make a progress.

“i can’t trust you…” you end up whispering the last part. “even if i want to, i just can’t.” you lean to him, dropping you forehead right to his chest and neteyam holds his breath. “i can’t, neteyam. i really can’t.”

as if he didn’t already hate himself more than this, he wishes he would just die at this point. you feel his hands grip your arms and pull you away from him a little far. one hand cups your cheek and he feels you lean to him for warmth.

there, right there was his y/n he knows.

“please,” he’s now begging. “let me make it right.”

you only lean to him to take his warmth one last time before opening your eyes and sighing. “nete’” you watch his breath hitch. “call me that again, please call me that again.”

“nete, i’m leaving.”

neteyam’s body freezes against you, “what?” is the only word he was able to let out. “what do you mean you’re leaving.” it wasn’t even a question, “me and my mom have decided and knows this place isn’t for us.”

you’ve been trying to let him know but you couldn’t until now and you take this opportunity to be close to him for the last time. “i don’t fit here, i’ve to leave.”

“what a..abo…about me?” he was now hyperventilating when he realize why you’ve accepted his touch on your body right now. “you’ve her, you’ve äyea.”

“don’t say that! please don’t say that– i’ve no one except you.” you’re trying to control the tears but neteyam was only making it hard. “neteyam.” your voice is quivering and neteyam shakes his head in denial

“no, don’t you care about me? no! NO!” he’s now holding your arms tight. “neteyam, please don’t make this hard.” you beg as tears start to roll down your pretty skin. “i have to leave!” you yell and neteyam instantly lets you go

he knew he deserved pain but not this one, neteyam didn’t want this he’ll never want this.

“when?” he’s now staring at you numbly. “huh?” you ask confused. “when’re you leaving?” you gulp and think before speaking.

“after your mating ritual, i’ll leave that night after yours and hers…” you stop when he shuts his eyes and blocks your words out. “i’ve to go, i can’t live like this! i don’t want to get hurt anymore.”

neteyam was nodding, stepping back from you. you feel guilty for just dropping it at him like that.

“so you’re saying if i haven’t caught you here i would never know and you would leave me?”

“i’m not leaving you, neteyam, you have äyea.” your words makes him snap.

“I DON’T WANT ÄYEA?!”

“don’t you dare yell at me for protecting myself.” you say and neteyam sniffs angrily. “you know what, i shouldn’t have told to you anything.” you suddenly push past him and walk fast.

neteyam clenches his jaw in anger and pain, no it won’t end like this. he won’t easily let you go like that, never.

enough is enough and nothing will easily end here.

guys it’s 3.1k and i had to stop there yeah? i feel like i might make part 3 and 4 but fr tho should i make it happy ending or sad ending? or maybe alternative ending— i love each and everyone of you sm! mwah!

taglist 𖤘 @eywas-heir @evanpetersluver @ayathehater @redbloond @brooklynscherry-z @spideyluves @littlethingsinlife @arminsgfloll @thesheelfsworld @traveleraroundsworld @giftfromthemoon @emarold @ilovehotdilfsz @kristalposts @raventommy @scryarchives @senpaitanakiuwu @willoswildworld @voniikg @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin @dearmikewheeler @mcqsx @eitaababe @hafutoru @hestiasalvtore @trhaenyra @23victoria @littlerizzler @ripneteyam @scarletrosesposts @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n @omgily (others will be tags if i make part 3)

[ghosts-bandwagon]

the boys reaction to the reader sending them lewd photos (with consent!)

Oof fuck yeah 😎

tw: slight NSFW/suggestive themes

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

Oh sweetheart, you fucked up (in the best way obviously)

He got the text that said “for your eyes only ;)” with an image following after the text, he knew better than to open it around others so he waited. Even when he was alone waited.

And then when he finally decided to open it, hands shaking just a little bit, he was in awe

You were sat in front of a mirror, legs spread and on your knees, back curved to get that flattering angle he loved so much, wearing nothing but his balaclava, your hair poking out from under the edges, doe eyes feigning innocence, your free hand disappearing between your legs

He calls you immediately, white knuckling his phone while he’s adjusting his jeans, suddenly tight, uncomfortable, and far too warm

“You have any idea what you’ve done?”

“No clue what you’re talking about, could use a hint though.” He heard the shit eating grin over the receiver and could practically see you biting your lower lip, eye lashes fluttering in feigned ignorance

“Better find you on your knees when I get home.”

“Or what?” He heard the breathlessness in your voice, knew how much you loved it when he gave you orders. Still he had to at least hand it to you for trying to keep up the coquettish act,

“Careful, pet, choices have consequences.”

(On GOD that line makes me WEAK)

After that interaction, he went silent until you woke up to a text a few days later that reads ‘Home in 5’ the text was sent five minutes ago and you heard the lock clicking at the front door

Consequences, love

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

The least restraint out of all of them tbh

He gets your text and sees that there’s an attachment and he calmly dismissed himself from the group, they’re at a pub, celebrating a job well done and you decided to hang back and let John have his night with his mates team

As soon as he’s alone and he opens the picture, his hand is running over his face and his baby blues are like saucers

You’re on your back, legs closed and turned to the side to show off the curve of your hips that drives him feral, you’re wearing nothing but his dog tags, with one of them between your plush lips and the other resting at the center of your chest

“Sorry, lads, gotta run.” He’s back at the table, grabbing his coat and his keys

“Already? We just got here.” Gaz shouted after him as he practically sprinted out of the building

“Shame. Be seein’ ya!”

He’s well over the speed limit and fighting his keys to get them in the lock, in a matter of seconds he’s got you in his arms, kissing the breath out of you

By the end of the night, and well into the morning, there won’t be a single inch of you that hasn’t been lavished

John Price:

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Da-

John is a patient man, he can bide his time well, knowing what it does to you

So when he sees the text and the attachment that followed, it wasn’t any different. He could wait. He knew what it was. He’s a patient man. So, just like Ghost, he waited. Except even when he was alone he didn’t open it. He’d text you as if he never saw the message and it had you wondering if it had any effect on him at all.

Sweetheart, of course it did. He could feel his phone burning a hole through his pocket despite being cool to the touch. But he wanted to wait until he knew for sure he was going home and when.

He was on the way home when he finally decided to open the picture and thank god he waited

You were sat in his favorite chair, legs crossed over the armrest, back arched over the other, wearing nothing but his hat, with one of his cigars lit between your fingers, you had captioned it with ‘what can I say? I miss my man’

If he’d seen the picture when you’d sent it, he wouldn’t be thinking straight for the rest of his time over seas. No thoughts. Head empty. Just bending you over one of the armrests and biting down on your shoulder as you’re crying out his name.

And that’s exactly what he did when he saw you.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick:

Oh honey, even though your text said ‘your eyes only’ he shrugged and figured no one was around to see so he opened it and his face went hot so fast, he barely had a chance to take a good look before he locked the phone and put it in his pocket.

He backed out of his chair rather clumsily and practically tripped over his feet trying to get to the bathroom

The lock had barely clicked when he dug his phone out of his pocket to get a better look and my god you looked delectable

You were wearing his cap and his jacket, which you left open, with nothing else. You were sitting on the bed in front of the mirror, legs spread, biting your lip, tweaking your nipple with you free hand

‘Wish my man would serve me instead instead.’

He didn’t even bother going back to meet up with everyone else, he just went straight home, he scooped you up in his arms, kissing you for all you’re worth, before placing you on the edge of the bed and dropping to his knees.

And serve you he did.

[kittysoonie]

Notice me

Ceo!Wonwoo x Fem!reader - 1.8k words

you finally have your boyfriend all to yourself but what's the point when he's too busy staring at his phone to even look at the ruby necklace you put on for him?

Established relationship, Non-idol au, angst (happy endings tho) and smut

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

You’re seated in a crowded restaurant, as the laughter and excitement of other customers fill your ears. It’s a surprise that you don’t happen to feel the same way as them, it’s your first date with your boyfriend after almost three months and he won’t even look in your direction; his eyes glued to his phone ever since you both sat down in your seats. You play with the food on your plate, huffing out of boredom.

“Wonwoo…” You start and he replies with a hum without even looking up.

“You know the ruby necklace you got me last year from Greece? I’m wearing that today, how does it look?” You ask, half excited in hope that he would look up at you for once tonight.

You felt a little disappointed with yourself, practically throwing yourself at your boyfriend in attempts of catching his attention since the night started. But, to no avail, he replied without even looking up, “It looks gorgeous babe.”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you began speaking, “Wonwoo could you look at me? You haven’t put down your phone since the date started…” your voice becoming smaller by the end.

“I’m sorry honey, the deal is just about to close and if all goes well we can finally go on the vacation you’ve been planning for a while now.”

You could only sigh in response, you know that he’s doing it all for you. He’s loyal, handsome and so loving, it almost makes you feel guilty for stripping him away of his time while he’s so busy. You’re just thankful he’s even sitting in-front of you during such a stressful week but, there’s still a part of you that wants all of his attention to yourself.

After another ten minutes of silence and both of your foods being left untouched, you decide you’ve had enough and message your personal driver asking him to pick you up.

It's not like your absence here would make such a big difference.

In the next 15 minutes your driver is here and you slowly get up and leave and even if you were expecting it, you still feel hurt when you realise your boyfriend hasn't felt your absence yet.

You walk with your head down and sit down in the car, weakly asking your

driver to take you back home making sure he can't hear the silent sobs leaving your mouth.

When you reach home you immediately run to your bedroom, taking off your heels that you put on just for wonwoo and wiping off your makeup - it's all ruined anyways.

You check your phone after a while, once you've finished your skincare and are comfortable in bed as a way of getting your mind off of your awful night.

Wonu💗: ???

Wonu 💗: where did you go?

2 Missed calls from Wonu💗

Wonu 💗: I'm coming home, we will talk then.

And as you read the message simultaneously you hear the front door unlock and wonwoos footsteps inching closer to your shared bedroom. You quickly turn your back towards the door so he can't see your heartbroken expression.

"*Y/N?" He calls out resulting in no response from you.

"Baby I know you're awake, don't ignore me." He adds on with a sigh, reaching out to rub your back softly.

You hesitate a little before looking up to him, eyes swollen with tears.

"Baby talk to me...what happened?" He asks and you feel like crying even more about the fact that he's so unaware about his actions.

Did he not feel as alone as you? Did he not miss you? Maybe he found someone new?

All these thoughts crossed your mind and as if he could see the cogs moving in your brain he continued, "Don't worry yourself all on your own, please...talk to me" he was basically begging.

"All night wonwoo.." you started as he urged you to continue

""You ignored me all night wonwoo. I understand that your work is important and every day you work hard for me...for us..."' you add while he takes your fidgeting hands into his own.

"I know you had to clear out your schedule for today and I'm thankful that you did but, I guess I was just expecting your full attention on me. I even wore your favourite dress tonight in hopes that you would give me all your attention and i don't know...I guess I was just being silly." You finish as you carefully look up to see wonwoos furrowed eyes brows as if he's trying to make sense of everything you said.

Getting a little embarrassed, you take your hands away from him and cover your face, "ugh I knew it, it's just all so silly..I'm feeling like a high schooler again" and to that he chuckles as he urges you to look at him again.

"I'm sorry baby.." he starts as you look at him with watery eyes.

"'You're not being silly at all, you're right, I cleared out my schedule to be with

you, you're not silly for expecting my full attention on you. I'm sorry that I

haven't been here for you, I know you've missed me I've missed you so much too." You carefully nod as you take in everything he's saying.

"I promise, I'll take the entire next week off. We can go wherever you want,just us two, no business calls whatsoever!" He finishes with a small attempt of enthusiasm as you giggle while he pulls you on his lap - both of your legs wrapped around his waists.

And almost immediately, his lips are on yours and what started as an innocent apologetic kiss turns into something a lot more intense.

He swipes his tongue over your lips as you open your mouth, inviting his muscle inside as your hands reach out to grab the back of his neck.

He pulls away with saliva connecting both of your mouths and you look at him meekly, grinding yourself onto him in objection to the sudden loss of contact.

He chuckles deeply as he takes his glasses off while having a bruising grip on your thighs, preventing you from pushing yourself onto him even more as a wet patch grows visible on your sleeping shorts. You lean in to give him gentle yet harsh kisses on his neck that will most likely leave a mark that he will most definitely complain about tomorrow morning before going to work.

""Wonu.." you whine as your hands make there way to unbutton his formal shirt, which he immediately stops.

You look up at him with the best puppy eyes as he gently pushes you on your back, connecting his lips with yours again.

"Hmmm...need all these off.." he thinks out loud, pulling your shirt off.

"No bra?" He asks with a raise of his eyebrows and you whine in embarrassment, covering your chest.

"What's so embarrassing? Nothing I haven't seen before." He says with a smirk as he goes in to suck on your left tit while his hand plays with your right nipple.

"Wonu.." you gasp, "not fair.." you can barely even speak, "you're fully clothed and 'm basically naked." You finish with a whine.

"Well, we gotta do something about that don't we?" He asks teasingly as your hands once again make there way to unbutton his shirt, successfully taking it off this time. He reaches out for your shorts that he takes off with your underwear in one go, cold air hitting your soaking cunt.

You watch as he spits on your wet core and inserts two fingers in one go, erupting a loud moan (it was basically a scream) as he chuckles. "Aww look at my baby, she's been so desperately waiting for me hasn't she? Soaking wet.."he adds with a slap on your cunt as you buck your hips, trying to be as close to him as possible.

"Yes! Yes! Been waiting for you!" You squeal out as Wonwoo smirks in satisfaction. "Been wanting you for so long!" You add on with a moan.

"Don't worry baby, I'll give you all the attention you've been craving." You moan once again as he attaches his mouth to your clit, sucking on it like a starved man.

"Wonuu 'm gonna cum.." you furrow your eyebrows, focused on your orgasm.

"Cmon baby, be a good girl and come for me."

The nicknames puts you on edge as you come with shaking legs.

"Baby.." you whine as your hands are in the air, reaching out for your boyfriend.

"Want you now.." you continue as your eyes fall onto his growing bulge and he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Yeah? You sure?" He questions in amusement, thinking you would be too tired to continue.

"Yes! I waited for sooooo long." You whine.

"Well if my baby waited so long for me then who am I to say no?" As he lets down his boxers for the first time tonight. You're basically drooling at the sight of his cock as it hits against his abdomen.

"You're ready baby?" He asks and you enthusiastically nod your head in agreement which he chuckles to, "words baby."

"Yes wonu I want you, I want your big cock inside me pleaseee" you beg and he thinks he might just cum at this moment.

"Fuck...princess" he moans as he sinks into your drenched pussy, legs touching

his shoulder as you're basically folded in half. He thrusts, slow and deep into

you, grabbing your hand into his, leading it up to the bulge in your stomach."Fuck, you feel this princess? This is how deep I am into you." You gulp at the feeling of his bulge.

"Faster" you whine and he complies.

"Shit 'm about to cum wonwoo" you barely let out.

"Oh yeah? me too princess where do you want it?" He asks while sweat drips down his forehead.

Almost immediately you respond, "inside, inside Wonwoo please, need to feel all of you." And who is he to deny his pretty princess.

You both basically shake during your orgasm as he slows down, pulling out and you swear right now he looks like the most beautiful man you've ever seen.

He rolls onto his side, pulling you close to him as your sweaty bodies become as physically close as they possibly can.

"Feeling good baby?" He asks softly, stroking your hair away from your sticky forehead, a different demeanour compared to literally five minutes ago.

You shyly smile, "uh huh, I feel so good."

And even though it's dark you can basically feel all the heat in his body rush to his cheeks.

After a few minutes of silence he speaks up again, "I gotta clean you up baby and the sheets are all messy we need to change them."

You whine at the thought of moving from this comfortable position.

"Just five more minutes." You whine

"Siri set the timer for 5 minutes." He says with a grin.

"N00000000"

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Read more of my work: Masterlist

[solarhysm]

DUST OF US - 03

> synopsis: 7 years ago Y/N broke Jungkook’s heart when she decided to end their relationship without an explanation. When they meet again at a friend's wedding, after almost a decade, Jungkook needs answers to move on.

> pairing: Jungkook x reader

> genre: romance, ex to lovers au

> warnings: explicit languages, violence, smut, cheating, nsfw, angst, +18 minors dni !!

> word count: 3.6k

*french writer, i apologize in advance for my awful english!

You spend twenty minutes deciding what to wear, standing in your underwear in front of your closet. Nothing too elegant or too sexy—it’s just dinner. Not a dress, it’s October and freezing cold outside. Neither an outfit too revealing. You don’t want to give the wrong impression. If you dress too casually, he'll think you didn't make an effort. Sighing, you grab a pair of jeans and a black bodysuit. You’ll wear that with a black leather jacket.

Should you wear makeup? Groaning, you walk to the bathroom and scan the sink, where all your makeup is strewn around. Maybe just something light. Your brows, a little mascara, and some gloss. No, not gloss. Frustrated, you settle for a lip balm. Why are you overthinking this? Even for your previous dates, you didn’t do this much.

Are you trying to impress him? Why? He’s Jungkook. He’s seen you in all your embarrassing states: drunk, ugly crying, on your period, and when you just woke up. What are you trying to prove to him? He probably won’t even notice. Shaking your head, you grab your handbag and put on your shoes.

Since he told you you’d be drinking, you didn’t take your car. Ordering a taxi seemed safer. When you arrive at the place he sent you, you let out a sigh. It’s a Korean BBQ restaurant next to a lake, a little out of the way from the center of Seoul.

Taking a deep breath, you sit on the bench in front of the parking lot. He’s late. Or maybe you are mistaken about the day? You pull out your phone and check the date. No… It’s Saturday. Should you send him a text?

“Y/N,” you hear, and when Jungkook approaches, stepping out of the restaurant, you stand up. “You’re here.” He grins as you nod softly. You mentally thank yourself for choosing a casual outfit, which matches his. He’s wearing a pair of blue jeans, a white tee, and a denim jacket, with the top of his hair tied into a ponytail, the rest falls onto his neck. He looks… handsome. Nothing surprising—it’s Jeon Jungkook. “I like your jacket,” he says with a soft smile.

“Hi. Thanks,” you reply.

“Come on, I reserved a table for us.” Jungkook steps aside so you can join him.

“In a BBQ?” You arch a brow, walking beside with him before he opens the door for you.

“Yeah, I’ve been on the waiting list for two years,” he jokes, making you smile slightly as you both sit down, facing each other. “Make your choice.” He hands you the electronic menu.

Seven years have passed and he’s still the same. Always thinking of the others first. You scroll through the menu. He loves pork belly, not you. But since he treating you to dinner, you don’t want to overstep, so you select the pork belly portion to share for two and turn the tablet to him. His brows furrow slightly as he makes his choice while you look around. The place is cozy and private, with a few people around.

“Are you drinking with me?” He asks and you hum softly. Once the order is made, he pushes the tablet aside and focuses on you. “Did you start my tattoos?” He questions, stretching himself as the waiter arrives with beers and two bottles of soju.

“Yeah,” You reply quietly, staring at the waiter opening the beers.

“Can I see?”

“No.”

Jungkook’s lips turn into a smirk and nods, sliding a beer to you before taking the other for himsel f.

“You’re nervous.” He observes, making you frown and shake your head. “You are.” He retorts, chuckling. “You’re avoiding my eyes, and your foot keeps tapping under the table.”

And you hate him for knowing you so well. Your foot stops its nervous tapping, as your eyes meet his in a silent challenge, just to prove him wrong.

“How was Japan?” You ask, changing the topic. He leans back in his chair and stares off, as if searching for the right words.

“Different and the same at once.” He replies, rubbing his chin. “People don’t really look at you, they don’t care. The food is good. It’s beautiful too. I visited Kyoto and touched a deer,” he adds, making you smile.

You’ve always wanted to go there, to visit the bamboo forest and feed the deer. You two used to talk about it.

“Their faces are soft, but,” he scrunches his nose and shakes his head, “their body fur is… coarse. Like street dogs, you know?”

“I see.” You chuckle, biting your bottom lip.

“Jimin told me you have a cat,” he says, and you two clink your bottles before taking a sip.

“Yeah, Trash,” You smile softly. “He’s a fat little demon.”

“You always wanted a cat.” He remembers, smiling. “But your dad is allergic.”

“Right.” You laugh softly. “The moment I had my apartment, I adopted one.”

“He bit Jimin.” He chuckles, taking another sip of his beer. “He showed me the scars.”

“Jimin overwhelmed him.” You defend your cat, making Jungkook laugh.

“Of course.” He replies, shaking his head. When the waiter came back to start the BBQ and brings the meat and sides dishes, you frown a little. Jungkook thanks the waiter and begins grilling the meat in front of you.

“Beef?” You ask as he nods, pushing the plates between you both before waiting for the grill to be hot enough.

“You still like beef, right?” He questions, cutting the meat on the grill.

“I do. But… I ordered pork belly.” You nod.

“I know.” Is all he says. You look at the grilled food. He ordered beef on purpose. He knows you’re not a fan of pork belly. You shake your head, smiling. You both thought of each other. “Here, have a taste” He offers, placing a slice in your small plate as you thank him and grab your chopsticks. “Where is your brother now? High school?”

“Yeah,” You hum while chewing your food, your hand on your mouth to hide the pout you make when you eat. “It’s his first year.”

“He’s what, fifteen?” Jungkook asks, concentrating on grilling the meat but still making conversation.

“He can’t wait to finish high school and move to Seoul.” you chuckle, filling both of your glasses with soju. “He said that Busan was boring.”

“What? Busan is so cool.” Jungkook shakes his head ,amused and you nod.

“That’s what I told him.” You retort, taking another piece of meat. “And he replied: ‘If you like Busan so much, why did you leave then?’ from his sassy fifteen-year- old.” You muse, and Jungkook bursts out laughing.

“What a brat.” He says playfully as you nod.

“Right?” You smile, feeling more comfortable. That’s one of Jungkook's superpowers.

You two clink your drinks and take a shot of soju before he leans back in his chair.

“What about your brother?” You ask, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“He’s married, two kids. I’m an uncle now.”

“Nice.”

He leans over the table to grab the bottle of soju and pours it into both glasses.

“Yeah, I ran as soon as Soyoon was about to give birth to the first monster. I held her in my arms,” He explains, and you smile softly, picturing Jungkook with a newborn in his arms.

“Did you cry?”

“No, I’m a man.” He shakes his head as you raise an eyebrow. “Maybe a little. Can you blame me? She was so tiny, and she is my first niece ever.”

Jungkook didn’t let you pay when you headed out two hours later. You rolled your eyes and suggested having dessert somewhere else. It was the least you could do. That's what you're trying to convince yourself of. The truth is, you didn’t want the night to end. You had a great time catching up with him.

You learned a lot about the twenty-seven-year- old Jungkook. Despite many changes, nothing has really changed. He was still the same nice boy you met eleven years ago, just more mature. You feel like you haven't changed or improved the way he has. He’s traveled and had many stories to share. The only significant change in your life is your move from Busan to Seoul.

“I’m not surprised that you’re a tattoo artist now,” he says as you both sit next to the lake, holding stuffed waffles. He offers you to help you settle with him in the grass. “You always loved to draw.”

“I told you that I’d become a tattoo artist one day,” You reply, pulling your legs against your chest as you eat the strawberry in the whipped cream of your waffle.

“Yeah, you did,” he smirks, leaning back on the ground, propped up on his elbow, and bites into his waffle. “I always knew you would. It’s hard to get something out of your head when you set your mind on it.”

Both of you continue to stare at the lake in front of you, as you sigh.

“Were you mad at me?” you ask a bit too boldly, but you blame your courage on the bottles of soju you drank earlier. You're both tipsy, clear-minded enough to think freely but not drunk enough to keep your thoughts to yourself. Jungkook seems to understand right away and sits up, taking a deep breath.

“Mad? Yeah.” He says honestly and you nod. “I didn’t understand why you broke up with me.” He adds taking another bite of his waffle, his eyes on the few ducks on the water. “And then I thought that maybe… maybe it was my fault. Maybe I said something that you didn’t like. Maybe I did something wrong. I’m sorry if that’s the case.”

You turn to look at him, but his eyes are still on the lake. He shrugs softly and smiles.

“But I wasn’t mad at you, Y/N.” He licks his lips and finally look at you. “I could never.”

Of course, he couldn’t. Whenever you two got into an argument, he was always the one coming back to you, making excuses—even when you were wrong. He cried and begged you not to leave him, even bringing flowers. Back then, leaving him, even for a short time, was never an option. He was yours and you were his. Did the eighteen-year-old Y/N ever imagine that one day you’d be closer to strangers than lovers?

“I just….” He sighs, clenching his jaw. “I just need to understand why.”

“Why?” You ask immediately.

“To heal the twenty-year- old guy who was left in that fast-food restaurant alone two days before Christmas.” He replies softly and your heart clenches.

“I thought you wanted to be friends?” You frown a little, feeling betrayed as his eyes widen, thinking that he probably did all that just to have his answers.

“Of course I want to be your friend, Nabi.” He retorts, frowning too. “I told you. You can reject me if you want, but I want you in my life.”

His words make you look at the ground and sigh. He said that when you two were seventeen. When he thought that his feelings weren’t reciprocated.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to tell me today. I waited seven years,” He jokes, and you shake your head with a slight smile. “I’m patient.”

“Are you?” You arch a brow, and he smiles, his eyes drifting to the ducks passing by on your left.

“Oh look, ducks!” He says, straightening up like a kid on Christmas day. Your eyes follow his gaze to the ducks a few meters away from you. “Do you think I can catch one?” He smirks, a competitive glint In his eyes.

“What are you going to do with a duck?” You chuckle, frowning at his absurd question. “And you can’t catch ducks. They’re faster than you and can fly.” You inform him as he arches a brow and gets up.

“Alright. If I get one, you’re going on a second friendly date with me.”

“You can’t catch ducks.” You repeat, shaking your head as he hands you his waffle and starts running after them.

You roll your eyes and watch him disappear behind the small hill that leads to the lake. A few seconds of silence pass as your gaze stays on the track he took. As you prepare to get up and join him, he returns with a duck in his hands. The animal seems as lost as you are, while Jungkook is grinning triumphantly. Holding the duck securely, he walks back to you.

“You owe me a date.” He says proudly, kneeling in front of you. You shake your head, amused and get closer to him.

“Do you think he’ll bite if I touch him?”

“He doesn’t have teeth, Y/N.” He chuckles and placing the duck closer before showing you how to strokes feathers.

“I can’t believe you caught a duck.” You giggle, amused, your fingers brushing the soft feathers. You're too focused on the animal to notice Jungkook's eyes on you.

“It’s late. We should call a taxi.” He suggests, and your eyes lift to meet his.

You didn’t want to leave. You were having fun, but he’s right. He releases the duck aside to let it rejoin its friends as you nod.

“I'll see you to the door.” He smiles softly, offering you his hand to get up.

“So, when are you gonna claim your prize?” You joke once you're both at the door. Jungkook leans his shoulder on your doorframe, thinking as he folds his arms across his chest.

“I haven’t even left yet, and you’re already eager to see me again, Nabi?” he smirks, and you roll your eyes, turning to close the door.

“Goodnight, Jungkook,” you pretend to step inside your apartment, but he giggles and stops you, placing his hand on the door.

“Alright, alright,” He laughs before you turn to face him again. He scratches his chin, leaning back on your doorframe. “I have to go to Busan before my mom kills me,” He adds. “It’s been months since I’ve been back, and I still haven’t visited my parents yet. But after that, we can plan another dinner.”

“Oh, yeah, you should plan that trip quickly. She’ll choke you to death if you don’t.” You chuckle, remembering that his mother is a mama bear. “Who’s driving you?”

“The train.” He laughs. “Jimin is too busy with his job, and I don’t have a car.”

And maybe it’s because it’s late, or because you had a great night, or maybe you can blame it again on the soju you had earlier, even if the effects long gone, but you open your mouth before thinking.

“I can drive you.” You suggest and immediately regret your words. A trip? Spending a few hours in the same car as your ex?

“Oh, no, it’s okay. Don’t change your plans for me.” He shakes his head, but you can't help it.

“I don’t mind. I need to visit my dad anyway, so at least we’ll kill two birds with one stone.”

Damn it, Y/N.

Jungkook stares at you for a moment, waiting for you to change your mind but you don’t say a single word.

“I mean… If you’re sure it’s no trouble,.” He nods, looking thankful.

“It’s not. I just need to clear one of my weekends. But if you're not comfortable with it—”

“No, no. Let’s do that.” He rushes to say, and you chuckle softly.

You smile and nod, and he does the same, taking a step back.

“Alright,” He repeats, “You’ll text me. Thank you for tonight.”

You offer him a sincere smile and take a step back too, ready to close your door.

“Get home safe.” You wave at him as he hums and bows politely before you close your own door and lean your back against it. Did you just offer your ex-boyfriend to spend more time with you? That’s not really … friendly.

You didn’t tell your friends about that night, or about the second date you’re going to have—if you can even call it a "date"—and certainly not about the trip you're going to take with Jungkook. They would keep harassing you about it. No, you kept it to yourself. Jungkook and you hadn't spoken since that night. It had already been more than a week.

You were too busy with your shop, and he was probably busy too. You needed a little time to calm down. Spending time with him again felt like the thrill of having a new friend, discovering someone new. You felt the same way when you and Hwan first became friends.

“Boss?” Baekhyun calls out as you smile, drawing on your tablet. “Y/N?”

“Hm?” You blink a few times, snapping back to reality. “Yeah?”

“Where do I put this?” he asks, holding up a box you just received.

“Oh, it’s our Halloween decorations,” you say, getting up to take a look. Baekhyun pulls the box onto the counter as you grab a pair of scissors to open it.

For the counters, you’ve got a bunch of little pumpkins. Spider webs adorn the walls and doors, and the star of the show: a human-sized skeleton that proves a challenge to get out of the box.

“We’ll have fun drawing on this one,” you chuckle, setting the skeleton on the bench next to the counter.

“Drawing?” Baekhyun frowns as he pulls out the ghost decorations from the box.

“Hm. I want to draw on his bones. He’s our mascot; he needs tattoos to look cool,” you say, stepping back with your hands on your hips. “Look how handsome he looks.”

Baekhyun stares at you, amused, before shaking his head.

“You’re really something else, boss,” he purrs, stepping closer. You feel his breath on your shoulder before he presses his lips to your skin. You shiver slightly and step away from him.

“Not at work,” you mumble, glancing at the skeleton.

“I know, I know,” he whispers, placing his hand on your stomach as he closes the distance between you again. His nose brushes against the crook of your neck. “But it’s the end of the day, and the shop is closed,” he murmurs as his mouth trails kisses along your skin, making you bite your bottom lip. "Can I invite you to dinner on Halloween?"

"Hm?" You breathe softly as his hand inches toward the waistband of your jeans. You close your eyes and tilt your head, giving him more space. “Halloween?” you repeat.

“Yeah. Since we’re closed the next day, I want to celebrate Halloween with you,” he says, kissing your jaw as he explains. You take a few seconds to think before shaking your head.

“I can’t. I’m leaving for Busan for Halloween,” you reply, making him stop. He pulls back slightly to meet your eyes.

“You’re going to Busan?” he asks as you frown, pulling away to face him completely. His hand drops to his side. “That wasn’t planned?”

“I didn’t know I had to explain myself to you,” you chuckle, occupying your hands by putting the decorations back in the box. “I’m visiting my family. Is that a problem?”

“Oh…” he mumbles, looking at the floor. “No, I understand. So… when can I invite you to dinner?”

“Why?” you ask, amused.

“Y/N… Come on,” Baekhyun sighs, closing the distance between you as he takes your hands in his. “You know why. We’ve been circling each other for almost a year now.” His words make you laugh, and you shake your head, raising an eyebrow. Why does he talk like you owe him something? You pull your hands away from his and shake your head.

“I don’t remember the part where I said our arrangement would lead to something else?” You retort, arching a brow. Baekhyun rolls his eyes, pushing himself against the counter.

“I know what you said. It’s just—” He takes a deep breath. “We work well together. Here at the shop, we have a good chemistry, even in bed. You could at least give me a chance to prove it?”

“Oh my god,” you shake your head, covering your face. “Baek, why are you suddenly so desperate to prove something?” You both exchange a look as he clenches his jaw, looking away.

“You’re making it sound like I’m being stupid right now.” He groans silently as your eyes soften.

“I’m sorry. It’s not what I meant.” You add, looking at him. “I don’t want a relationship. Not now, or ever. I told you.”

“What?” Baekhyun frowns. “That’s not what you said. You said you weren’t ready to start something with someone yet.”

“And I still am not.” You raise your shoulders as he chews the inside of his cheek. “I don’t have to explain myself to you anyway. I’m happy alone.”

“Okay.” The young man replies, his tone almost cold. “You don’t have to repeat it. It’s only sex, I get it.”

“Are you upset because I don’t want a relationship?” You frown, your voice rising slightly.

And your words seem to hit him harder because his features relax slowly as he takes a deep breath.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that, Y/N. You’re not ready, and I respect that.” His tone softens as he steps closer, gently rubbing your arms. “Let me buy you dinner, hm?” Baekhyun says with a smile as he pulls you into a hug. “I’ll let you choose whatever you want to eat. I’m sorry. Please forgive me, yeah?” he whispers against your shoulder, and you simply nod. “Alright, let’s close the shop and grab something to eat.”

DUST OF US MASTERLIST.

WATTPAD.

buy me a coffee<3 (every chapters/drabbles are posted as soon as i'm done writing them.)

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[ncis-yp]

may i request sugar daddy!gibbs? <3

Money, Money, Money (Sugar Daddy! Gibbs x Reader)

Late night, black coffee, handsome man, all alone. Third time this week, 5th week in a row you’ve seen him. You flirted often fishing for bigger tips, trying to pay bills you couldn’t even afford to have. You lived on your own. 18 years old, last 2 months of high school, and barely a plan and money to plan life with.

“See you’re here again!” You say happily topping him off.

“Hey! Rough week” he sighed, eyeing you gently.

“You work at… don’t tell me” you say trying to remember. “NCIS!” You exclaim.

“Good memory” he smiles. “How are you (y/n)?” He asks.

“Ah I’m alright. Just trying to get off work as soon as possible, you know” you shrug. “Later it gets the scarier it is outside.”

“Well, what time do you get off?” Gibbs asks.

“12” you sigh, looking towards the clock. Only 9:45. “Got about 2 hours left”

“Yeah, remember the goal kid.” Gibbs smiled. “Say, what college do you plan on attending? I remember you saying you were a senior and it’s almost the end of the year.”

“Oh, college.” You say quietly. “I can’t afford it, so I won’t be going. Maybe in the future” his phone began ringing. He clicked it silent before turning to you,

“Ah I see… well (y/n) have a good night. I’ve gotta get back to work” he stands.

“See ya around, Jet” you saluted him.

“Jet…” he said thoughtfully. “I like that!!”

Time skip~

The clock hit 12 and your shift was over. You walked out to see a familiar face leaning against a car. You smiled as he approached you.

“Hey Jet! What’re you still doin out?”

“Driving you home” he shakes his keys. “Scary out here” you can see a smirk.

“Coming from a guy who’s packing” you roll your eyes as you approach the car. You were gonna let yourself get a ride with a man who had a gun… a lot safer than walking an hour without a gun. That was how you justified getting into that car.

“Oh shut up” he opened the door and you got in.

When you arrived at your shitty apartment that you could barely afford you saw Gibbs eyes search the perimeter.

“I’ll walk you in… I don’t like the looks of that guy on the corner” he motions with his head.

“It’s really alright. Thank you for the ride!” You say opening your door. Jethro reached across and shut it before you could step out. Silently he got out and walked around the car. Opening it.

“Let’s go” he grinned sweetly. You caved and bring him up. His eyes fell on your small apartment. Clean, organized, your life could fit in a box. He made notes of things to buy you.

“Well since you’re up here” you say as you take off your coat. “Coffee? Tea? Might actually have a bottle of soda in the fridge…” you trail as you thought about it.

“Coffee’s great, yeah” he accepts. The two of you stayed up talking late into the night before he left. Your insecurity of what you could afford present in the back of your mind.

A few days later~

You woke up to a knock on your front door. You opened it to see a delivery guy at your door.

“Delivery for a…” he looked at his clipboard. “(Y/n)(l/n)”

“Yeah, yeah that’s me” you say. “What is this?” The man shrugged.

“A car? If you didn’t order it, not my problem. I can’t take it back.” He said as you signed the paper. He handed you the keys. “Beautiful car by the way” he walked away. You closed the door behind you, walking downstairs. Outside you eagerly clicked the key, looking around for the car, your eyes finally settling on the black dodge challenger sitting in a parking spot a few meters down.

“Oh my god” you say nearly in tears. You ran back upstairs and hurriedly got dressed for work, hoping to see Jethro there. And sure enough when you pulled up in your new car, there was Jethro, leaning on his car again.

“You fucking bastard” you run and hug him, you cry happily into his shoulder. He laughed as you did so.

“Wait wait, I get you a car and you call me Bastard!!!” He exclaimed. “I got something else for you…” he digs his hand into his pocket, another key coming out on his finger.

“Jethro…” you say looking at it as a bright green address tag danced in your eyes.

“Coffee first. Key later” you nodded as you lead him inside.

Time skip~

You ended your shift early to go with Jethro. You blindly tailed him into a nicer apartment complex in a better part of Quatico. Your heart began to flutter as you parked.

You walked into a nice apartment on the 3rd floor. Beautiful black granite kitchen tops, newly installed appliances.

“So…” he says. “What furniture were you thinking you wanted for your new apartment?” He says handing you magazines.

“Holy shit.” You whisper. “This is mine?” He nodded. “This place is mine?” You gasp.

“All paid off. So is the car. And so is your degree.”

“Degree?” You ask. “No you didn’t”

“Yes. I did” he smiled.

“Shut up” you tear up as he passes you a folder. The big words ‘WELCOME TO VIRGINIA TECH’ inscribed. “How did you-“

“Pulled some strings… I think your 1560 SAT score and perfect GPA helped a lot…” he said.

“Oh my god” you cry out jumping into his arms. “I will pay it all back” you say.

“Nope. No need. Just keep being a good girl and I will give you the world” he says.

“Thank you so much!!”

“Of course! You deserve it” he winked. “Now pick out some furniture. It’s your reward for getting into Virginia Tech” you kisses your cheek.

[stayinlimbo]

love at your fingertips

pairing: lee minho x reader genre: established relationship, fluff disclaimers: tooth-rotting fluff, will (hopefully) make you smile, slight suggestiveness, lowercase intended, slightly unedited word count: 681 note: i had this idea and just had to do it. i love love ♡

minho has never been good with words.

it’s a fact he’s had to accept throughout his entire life. sentences spew past his lips before he has time to process what he's saying and his mouth won’t form the intended words clawing at the back of his throat. his attempts at conveying emotions fall flat due to his dry tone of voice, the only noticeable tells articulated by his ever-changing demeanor. 

it must be ironic that he considers himself an extrovert. 

or maybe it isn’t, because although minho may not be able to express himself verbally in his native korean, he is fluent in the universal language of love through touch (as if his obsession of slapping his friends’ butts wasn’t proof enough). and now that you’re in his life, it has become one of his primary means of communication. 

“i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not when the simple brush of the back of his hand with yours hints at his affection for you before starting dating. not when he clasps your hand with his to carefully guide you through a crowded area, occasionally looking back to ensure you’re okay and always to be met with a smile that melts his heart.

he expresses it in the way he ruffles your hair when he stands behind your seated form on the couch, laughing as he defends himself against your playful swats. minho remains tied to you, playing with your fingers under the restaurant table when on a group date with your mutual friends.  

careful love as his hand presses against the small of your back, letting you walk slightly in front of him on the sidewalk at night, making sure you’re always in his line of sight. 

passionate love as he pushes you against the bedroom door, the grip on your hips tightening when your mouth detaches from his and trails down to his neck. he radiates it through the act of intertwining his fingers with yours by your head as he pants into your ear, pressing a sloppy kiss to your temple, a silent thank you for vulnerability you’ve never hesitated to unveil for him. 

unconditional love when he pulls you in for a firm embrace after one of the worst arguments the two of you have ever had in your relationship. his thumbs wipe your tears away, an unspoken apology for making you cry. 

it’s the love minho knows will be there when he wakes up in the morning as he stretches his hand out towards the middle of the bed, close to where your half-asleep figure peacefully lays. 

it’s the love he knows is reciprocated, for you speak the language of love too. 

minho hears it, sees it, in the way you took his shy hand in yours, intertwining them together with a beam on your face at the way his face flushed from your confident action, and it’s the way your fingertips dig into his shoulders, kneading away the tense muscles after a stressful day. 

you make his annoyance at the world disappear when your fingers card through his wet hair, creating spiky towers pointing in every direction that he can’t help but laugh at himself at how ridiculous he looks (yet never smooths them back down unless you do it for him). 

it’s your careful love too, existing in the lip tint you applied on him transferring onto your lips as you tilt his head and pull him in for a sweet kiss. it’s worth the smudged kiss stains adorning his face when he sees you admiring your work, squishing his cheeks together because he’s just “so cute.”

you love every extension of him, including his cats that yowl and parade around your feet until you give them all equivalent attention with gentle pets. 

love is imbued in your touch, even when you’re half-asleep, yet still reach out to meet his open palm to loosely interlace your fingers.

no, “i love you” is one of the phrases minho will never have trouble saying. not if it’s with you.

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