#i’m not even against plastic surgery

[kelvintimeline]

also didnt mean to post two different heath ledger films, lmao, the queue decided to put brokeback on my blog today

but it works out!! i think heath leadger is part of what i'm talking about

he's obviously VERY beautiful but even his face is more... natural than what we have now, like, he was allowed imperfections. he isn't 20 different deliberate cosmetic surgeries merging into one person (i don't doubt he had any, like he probably did, but not like we see now)

he feels more authentic. beautiful in a way films demand but still like... just a guy

it adds to the vibe of his films

[margaetyrell]

this plastic surgery trend of removing buccal fat really does need to stop. have we not learned anything about how drastic beauty standards can be real triggers for ed survivors

[sooniebby]

hello, if you still take requests, please hear me out

reader is roommates with a guy. a rather hot guy, to be honest

reader is in denial whenever someone asks if he's attracted to his roommate, but it's obvious he is, he can't take his eyes off him... taking quick looks at his crotch...

anyways, unfortunately the room only has one bed, in which they sleep on together. normally, they sleep each on each side of the bed, but tonight, roommate hugs reader from behind, sleeping spooning

reader won't admit, but he's sooo horny. he just lowers his hand and starts jerking off right there and then, careful not to wake roommate up

little does he know his roommate was just pretending to be asleep and is well sure of what he's doing. now, roommate will show reader what he's made of

would you mind writing something like this?

ఌ 𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

W.C › 9.2k

Warnings › this is a random oc. Bottom male reader!!! Changed a few parts of the plot and added kinks since there wasn’t any. Get ready for me using song lyrics, just for a little bit. Anything not translated will be translated at the ending notes. if I have any Korean wrong correct me! I appreciate feedback, I’m not fluent!

Kinks › dubcon, lite somnophilia, dom/sub, manhandling, predator/prey, size difference, blood, possessiveness, dacryphilia

Words to know › 자기야 (jagiya/jagi) means “baby/sweetie”. 선배 (seonbae) title for someone older in school/work. 형 (hyung/hyeong) name for older male from a younger male. 아/야 (a/ya) showing closeness to someone. 동생 (Dongsaeng) little brother/sister, doesn’t have to be a biological sibling/can be a friend.

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

❝ 김진우 ❞

Those words were practically all that you heard these days. You know, when you originally came to this university, you had big plans. Plans to date as much as possible. Finally lose your virginity!

But they’re nothing important compared to who you unfortunately got paired to dorm with.

Kim Jinu.

A third year at your university. You felt bitter, to say the least. Of course you would have to unlucky chance of being paired with an upperclassman than another freshman. Gah, you wanted to cry.

Anyone that came up to you was always asking about Mister Kim Jinu! What about you?! You were handsome too!

Well, you were a potato next to Jinu.

The Korean beauty standards just had to pick favorites.

A slow soft sigh left your lips as you stared at your empty screen in front of you. Your fingers twiddled with your pen before you leaned over and pressed it against the screen, attempting to finish the outline of your sketch. You were an art major, dreaming of being an animator or even a comic book artist.

Much to your parents dismay. You haven’t had your mother’s signature kimchi in almost two months now due to your choice. But you tried not to dwell on it! You wanted to be happy.

And if being a starving artist is the only way, so be it!

Speaking of starving….

Your stomach growled as you whined and tossed the pen onto the desk, lying back in your chair as you swirled around. You’d have better luck being a Kpop idol at this point. Maybe it’s not too late. Who doesn’t like a filler member?

You glance in the small circle mirror resting on your desk and probe at your cheeks. Plastic surgery isn’t too much, right? Maybe a slimmer nose? Double eyelids?

“(Name) Oppa..? What are you doing?”

A shriek left your lips as you looked back at Cho Yoona, your classmate. A tight smile pulled on your lips as you took the iced coffee she had in her hands.

“Nothing, nothing. Oppa is just having a mental breakdown.” You said, quickly taking a sip of your coffee to gain some energy back.

Yoona grabbed a chair and pulled it close to your desk, sitting down next to you. “Hm. What are you doing now?”

“Ah? Well, the theme was something out of our comfort zone, so I was trying to create��� uh… nude portraits..”

“Huh? Nude? Will Professor Lee Hyunki approve that?”

You shrugged, placing the coffee down onto the desk. “I have a backup plan. I haven’t been able to get in touch with him anyway.” A groan left your throat as you saved your draft before shutting off your computer. “Anyway, let’s go. It’s getting late.”

As you and Yoona packed up, she suddenly looked over to you with a big smirk.

“Oppa… are you… close to Kim Jinu Seonbae?” She asked, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“No.” You quickly said, rolling your eyes. “We’re just roommates. Not close at all.”

“Oh.” She muttered, pouting. “You’re lucky, Oppa. You get to be so close to Jinu Seonbae. Isn’t he handsome up close?” She squealed, clutching her notebook tight against her chest. “I’d die if I get to see him right after he takes a shower!!!”

“Get your mind out of the gutter.” You muttered, playfully flicking her forehead. The two of you left the classroom, turning off the lights and closing the door.

Once Yoona went her own separate way to her own dorms, you couldn’t help but think about what she said. Jinu… in just a towel..?

You heaved as you accidentally swallowed your coffee a bit too fast, pounding at your chest once you finally reached your dorm. Your hands fiddle with your keys while you fight off the harsh coughing burning at your chest. The door swings open as you struggle inside, slamming the door behind you.

Tossing your bag onto your side of the room, you make a beeline for the mini fridge and pull out a water bottle, downing it in seconds. As the cool refreshment calmed the coughing beast within you, you suddenly realized you weren’t holding your coffee anymore.

Your eyes trailed down to see it lying spilled on the floor not too far from your feet.

And unfortunately, it spilled right on a stake of papers near Jinu’s backpack. A shrill girlish scream right of a horror movie leaves your throat as you collapse to your knees and pick up the coffee cup, seeing the damage.

Your fingers felt numb as they slowly peeled the notebook open, seeing the pages stuck together like glue. The once white sheets dark in black, ice cubes coating it like sprinkles. Holy fuck.

Fuck fuck.

Jinu was going to kill you!

With the coffee coating the paper, you could hardly read what was written in it. But judging from the top cover, it looked to be a study guide or something.

Your eyes squinted as you tried to read what you could in hopes of gaging just how bad you fucked up. The words that you could only read were: “바보…토끼…자기…”

What the fuck?

Idiot, rabbit, babe?

What the hell was Jinu writing about?

Jinu was a business major. You couldn’t recall him taking any classes dealing with animals. Maybe it was a code word? Well, all that mattered was that it didn’t seem too important so you quickly grabbed the notebook. Drying it with a hair dryer seemed like your safest bet.

The room door opened, catching your attention as you shoved the notebook behind your back. There stood Jinu, obviously waving bye to someone before finally looking into the room. His eyes zoned in on you, face just frozen for a solid second.

You panicked, thinking that he could possibly see the notebook behind your back. Not the fact you were on your knees, staring up at him with wide cute eyes, and plump lips pulled into a slight pout. Especially with your sweater that was large and baggy, something you preferred, with one of the sleeves down—showing your bare shoulders.

Why would you wear tanks underneath the sweater? The buildings here aren’t that cold.

“Jinu Seonbae..!” You whisper, giggling nervously as you pressed the notebook tight against your back, taking a peek to make sure it didn’t stick out. “How.. was your day?”

Jinu blinked. Once, twice, before a large grin pulled onto his face and his eyes practically closed into those crescent moons girls swooned about. Whatever he was thinking about was long gone.

“I thought I told you to call me hyung, (Name). We’re going to be roommates for a while anyway.” Jinu said, closing the door behind him as he slipped off his shoes and put away his jacket.

You wanted him to stay as far as possible—you couldn’t have him seeing the mess you made! Your eyes trailed around the room, looking for something to distract him with. The floor was feeling sticky from the coffee, its spill coating the floor and now your knees. You didn’t even noticed you had accidentally knelt in the damn puddle.

“H..Hyung! Uhm, can you… get me some napkins?” You yelled, stopping Jinu just as he began to walk past the bathroom door. He balked at your raised voice but simply hummed, turning on his heels to grab some from the connected bathroom.

Your hands gripped the sticky notebook and shoved it underneath one of your old textbooks on your desk, standing up just as Jinu came back.

“Spilled something?”

“Mhm… just some coffee.” You muttered, thanking him for the napkins as you kneeled back down to wipe it up. “I don’t think it got on any of your things.”

Jinu let out a noncommittal hum, standing just inches from you as you bent over. You felt watched—to a strange and uncomfortable amount but you didn’t want to say anything. Once you finished, you glanced up at him, hoping he possibly didn’t notice his missing notebook.

But this position.

No.

No, it was his stare really. You felt yourself squirm, wondering how a guy could look so cute not too long ago and watch you like a hawk the next.

“Ah, (Name), did you eat the sandwich I bought you?” Jinu suddenly asked, his gaze shifting to his desk as he moved past you, sitting down on his chair. “I tried to remember what you liked.”

“Oh uhm. I gave it to my dongsaeng.”

The soft taps on the desk stopped, causing you to look over at Jinu. He was facing the window so you couldn’t get a read on his face. But the total silence made you feel as if what you said was the wrong answer.

“Dongsaeng? Biological?”

“Uhm. Yes. My little brother came to visit me.” You muttered, feeling a bit weirded out he asked that. “He skipped school to see me, but I didn’t have enough money to take him out so I just gave him my lunch. Sorry, Seonbae.”

Jinu’s light tapping on the desk began again as he let out a laugh. “It’s okay! I’ll just make sure to get you two next time.” He turned to face you, a large grin on his lips. Any tension in your body slipped away as you couldn’t help but smile back.

Kim Jinu wasn’t too bad of a roommate.

Just a shame he kept cockblocking you.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Wa, Hyung, these lover letters are all for you?”

On your desk, covering your keyboard and almost the entire space area, was a small mountain of love letters. In your classroom for art major, you all had small little cubicles that was essentially your work station. Unlucky for you, many people found out exactly where yours was to leave gifts.

Oh but not for you.

Are you kidding?

They were all for Jinu.

Your classmate, Im Taeil, reached over and grabbed one of the food that were left, reading the sticky note attached to it. “Oh. This one is for Kim Jinu Seonbae.”

“They’re all for him.” You muttered bitterly, grabbing a heap of them and stomping over to the trash, dumping them with no remorse. Taeil watched you in awe as you cleaned your desk in seconds, leaving just the few snacks.

“Why do they give them to you instead of Jinu Seonbae?” Taeil asked, pulling at the rest of the sticky notes to read what was on them. “Wouldn’t it be easier to just confess to him? Wow, these notes leave nothing to the imagination. I think some of these are from guys too.”

You rolled your eyes, grabbing one of the chocolate bars and pulling it open, taking a big bite. “I don’t know! Maybe they can’t handle rejection. I hope they know I’m not his damn servant!” You plopped down onto your chair and sighed, wanting to just drown in your sorrows.

So much for getting laid or finding a partner.

All that anyone wanted was Kim Jinu!

Agh!! You just wanted to say, “꺼져!” But you knew saying “go to hell” to everyone was a bad idea and would practically send you into the shadow realm of no friends.

Though your only friends seemed to be Taeil and Yoona. But you didn’t really think they liked you as a person. You were just the easiest to talk to.

“Hyung, can I…?” Taeil suddenly whispered, catching your attention. His hands made a grabby motion as he inched close to one of the snacks on your desk. You mutely waved and allowed him to grab whatever he wanted. You’d probably just give the rest to Yoona or something. Ah, maybe your little brother…?

“Oh, Oppa! Taeil!” Yoona greeted, the door pushed open as she carried a bag filled with goods. She skipped over, a bright cheery grin on her lips as she stood right in front of you and Taeil. “Look what Jinu Seonbae gave me! Ah, he’s so cool!”

Taeil peaked into the bag and pulled out a bag of chips. “Wow. He really got these for you?” You couldn’t deny the slight twitch in your lips at his wording. Her? Just for Yoona? No way. No way…

Yoona shook her head. “Not just for me! It’s mainly for (Name) Oppa!” She took out another pair of chips and two sodas, handing one over to Taeil. “The rest is for you! There’s a note inside.”

The bag was practically thrusted onto your lap as Yoona walked over to her desk across from yours and plopped down, eagerly chowing down on her snacks.

Taeil looked curious on what the note said but seemed to know there was limits to his nosy behavior as he sat down at his desk two seats away from you. Huh. Mainly for you?

Weird.

You pulled open the plastic bag and pulled out a soda and chips, similar to what he gave Taeil and Yoona. But there was more: two turkey sandwiches. You pulled out the one that had a sticky note on it, tilting your head as you read his handwriting out to yourself.

❝ 여기, 샌드위치 두 개요. 오직 토끼만을 위한! 아니 동생! ❞

❝ Here, two sandwiches. For Bunny only! No Dongsaeng! ❞

“No dongsaeng?”

You shrieked, looking back to see Taeil suddenly standing behind you. He grinned sheepishly, taking a step back.

“Sorry, Hyung. You got so quiet… I was a bit worried.”

Yoona perked up from her desk, tilting her head. “What does it say?” She walked over and glanced down at the note. “Who’s bunny?”

You shrugged, “not sure. I’ve never been called a bunny before.” You let out another pathetic cry of shock when Yoona and Taeil were suddenly close to your face, eyes wide as if they were examining you like a piece of meat.

“Really? You look more like a deer to me.” Yoona muttered.

“No… I see the bunny. Ah, but maybe hamster too. You have chubby cheeks, Hyung!” Taeil chimed in.

You rolled your eyes, wanting to push them away but you kinda enjoyed the attention. You weren’t really into the whole animal representative thing that a lot of Kpop idols did. Just didn’t see the purpose, especially after you grew up. But you wouldn’t lie and say you didn’t like being referred to as such cute animals.

You could’ve gotten an insect!

The rest of the day was uneventful. You actually ended up eating both sandwiches Jinu gave you, slaving away at your project. It wasn’t going as great as you envisioned—nowhere near. You had no problem creating a nude body it was just difficult to make it… artistically pleasing and not full on horny.

❝ 잠깐만요 시간 있나요?…. ❞

Yoona’s Bluetooth speaker sang the melody of AOA - Excuse me as you stared at the rough draft in front of you. You wished you didn’t pick digital art for this project and stick to traditional but there was no use complaining now.

Your wrist tensed as you zoomed in on the face of your model—creating the soft brush strokes of his hair. Sharp eyes, black in color. The outline of lips that you would paint in pink. Maybe even red. Earrings? No, he doesn’t have any.

He’s gotten bigger. Definitely compared to the pictures you’ve seen of him last year from his friends. Weights..? Boxing? His knuckles looked bruised sometimes when you saw him.

Red, aching. Cuts of skin. Bright and glossy from the ointment he’d put on it. Tanned skin. Red against tanned skin—a perfect contrast.

Does it hurt to move? If you kissed it, would the blood coat your lips?

It was such an edgy thought but you wondered how it’d look to use his blood as lipstick.

His thumb pressed on your bottom lip, slowly smearing it. Would he call you pretty? Kissing you so you both can taste the metallic rush of blood. Maybe you can taste something else. White, maybe?

Your breathing shuddered as your grip on your pen tightened, legs pressing tightly together. Red and white. Would he like you in that? Pretty and pliant just for him to claim. Your free hand gently pulled at your pants, alleviating some pressure against your crotch.

Bunny. Were you his bunny?

Is that what he thought of you? Helpless and defenseless? His fingernails digging into your soft skin as blood spilled, your soft moans teetering on the verge of tears.

What did he remind you of?

A fox?

Don’t they eat bunnies?

You didn’t know why the thought made your whole body spasm. Your breathing getting heavy as the pen began to slip from your hand. He’d chase you. Yeah, that’s what a fox does to their prey. Chase you until couldn’t run anymore, huddled in a dead end as he got closer.

You’d cry and beg but he’d take you. Because he wants you—wants you so bad he can’t control himself. He’d always wanted you beneath him screaming his name for all to hear. As you became his prey.

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞

“Oh! I love this song! Taeil, do you like The Boyz?” Yoona said, turning up the volume. Taeil hummed, looking up from his screen. His eyes looked bloodshot at this point. How long have you guys been here?

“I prefer girl groups. Like Red Velvet!” Taeil said, proudly showing his phone that had a Lock Screen of Seulgi. Yoona cooed and showed her Lock Screen of Kevin. Wow, you’re stuck with Kpop fans. You rubbed your eyes, looking away from your screen to stop seeing the dark spots appearing in your vision.

Taeil and Yoona began talking about their favorite groups while you listened to the song. It felt oddly fitting for the mood you were in right now. You’d have to ask Yoona for the name later. Right now you need a drink, stat.

You grabbed your water bottle and took long gulps as you finally glanced back at your drawing. It took a moment for it to fully register before you let out a scream.

No it was certainly manly.

“Hyung?!”

“Oppa?!”

There—right in front of you—was Kim Jinu staring right back at you. You…

You fucking drew him?!

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞

No way. No fucking way.

But there it was, staring back at you. His fluffy black hair slicked back as if he was drenched in water. Black eyes with his signature big nose. His lips weren’t pulled into his usual smiles. You had drawn him with all of his features except that damn smile.

Damn Kim Jinu… he was affecting you in ways you didn’t think was possible.

You quickly saved your draft on the tablet and turned it off, needing to just go to your dorm and sleep this daze off. “Yoona… Taeil… I need to sleep.” You muttered, Yoona and Taeil staring at you with worried looks. “You guys should go sleep too. It’s late.”

Yoona and Taeil didn’t fight it. It looked as if they were waiting for you to give them permission. You waved them off, stating you needed to clean up a bit before leaving. Your professor didn’t like crumbs. But you didn’t clean, you just stared at your tablet. The large tablet that the school provided that was now logged on into your account, holding a secret.

Your breathing slowed as you reached over and pressed the power button, waiting as it lit up. The soft taps filled the room as you logged back in and clicked your recent save. He appeared in front of you again.

That fox.

A shudder left you as you pulled down your pants, along with your boxers, as your cock plopped out against your tummy. It was small. Smaller than most. Around 4 inches. Possibly 3 really. But it didn’t matter to you really—you didn’t think you’d ever want to top anyway.

Your hand grasped your cock as you began to pump it slowly, staring straight at the drawing in front of you. His cock. You wondered what it looked like.

You respected his privacy so you never dared to stare at him whenever he came out of the shower.

But you wish you did. Wish you could have an accurate picture of how it would look. How it would be deep inside of you. Would it make a bulge in your stomach?

Is he thick? Long? Maybe both.

You arched your back against the chair as you took shallow breaths, your whimpers filling the empty room. Your toes curled as you whined and mewled, wishing someone else was jerking you off.

Oh who were you kidding?

You wished it was Jinu.

Even as you reached your orgasm, cum coating your tummy, you didn’t feel any relief.

What fun was it if he didn’t chase you?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

“Jagi….”

A hum left your throat as you buried your face into your arms, shivering slightly from the cool air that tickled your stomach.

“Jagiya.”

Puffs of air brushed against your cheek. It was warm, a nice contrast compared to the cool air that covered you. A finger gently touched your cheek. Poking and doing small circles around the outline of it. The hand trailed down your face to your back, rubbing circles as it started a slight rhythm.

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞

Despite the taps jolting against your skin, it almost lulled you back into sleep. It was something you missed, the touch of someone special. Slowly, it inched further down, moving to the end of your sweater. Your body flinched at the hand now teasing your skin directly as it grazed it your stomach.

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞

It felt sticky. A deep chuckle reverberated against your back. The touch on your skin was possessive, rubbing and massaging your stomach. Your body flinched as your breathing began to stutter. A hand slipped further down, easily squeezing its way into your pants. The sensual touch—it felt as if you belonged to them and only them.

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞

A gasp left your lips as your eyes opened, looking around to notice that you were still in the classroom. Fuck. Your body tensed as you moved away from your desk, groaning at the awkward position you slept in. As you stretched, your gaze flickered to an ice coffee on your desk with a sticky note attached to it.

It had a badly drawn bunny on it with a heart next to it. The words: “fighting!” were scribbled beside the crude drawing. You couldn’t help but smile, placing the note on small bulletin board near your desk.

It must’ve been your hyung, Lee Minjae. Or who you affectionately called, Minnie Hyung. He was the one who pushed you to pursue your major instead of what your parents wanted. Such a great hyung.

The whole thing about Jinu felt like a distant memory. You’d have to change what you’re submitting for the project, immediately.

No way in hell were you going to submit a nude of your fucking roommate.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

There was a something wrong with your bed.

After you took your shower and changed into comfy pajamas, you noticed there was something wrong your bed. Well for one the fucking mattress was missing. You had called Jinu if he knew what happened but all he said was that he found a nest of spider eggs in it so the school confiscated it.

Unlucky for you the school were cheap stakes and it was gonna take a bit of time before you got a new mattress. Jinu had said you would be sharing with him but you didn’t necessarily think you could survive something like that.

Him pressed up against you.

Would it…

You pushed the thought away. Your eyes trailed off to your desk when you suddenly remembered the ruined notebook. You walked over and grabbed it from beneath one of your textbooks, seeing it in its fully ruined glory. There was no salvaging it at this point. You hoped Jinu didn’t care for this dumb thing.

But you were curious to see if you could read it fully now.

You slowly peeled it open and bristled at just how bad the damage was. Half of the pages were stuck together and when you tried to part it they tore. The pen he used to write it had smudged from the liquid so his handwriting was ineligible.

Right before you had given up to just toss it, you came across the last page, seeing a word you could understand. “Jagi.” Huh. Who was this babe of his? You tried to push away the slight bitterness in your throat the thought of that.

Of course he’d have a girlfriend. He was Kim fucking Jinu.

It’d be a shock if he didn’t.

You tossed the notebook into the trash can and made sure to put your food snacks on top of it just in case Jinu decided to accidentally look in there. If Jinu ever asked about his notebook, you’d pretend you never even seen him with a notebook before.

Now all you had to deal with was the problem of sleeping in the same bed with Jinu. You’d survive.

Hopefully.

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You haven’t survived. It’s been two weeks and it felt as if you hadn’t slept in years. Jinu keeps two pillows between the both you while you slept but somehow the two of you always end up close. It wasn’t even a day ago when you woke up to yourself resting right on Jinu, your cheek pressed against his chest while your hand palmed his neck.

He had a big chest—you wished you had a little bit of a degenerative attitude to feel him up.

But you’d rather not be known as the perverted roommate.

“(Name)-Ah? Something wrong?” A hand gently rests on your shoulder as you glanced up to see Lee Minjae staring down at you. A cute grin pulled on your lips as you placed your pen down to grip one of his hands. You just liked touching him.

“Minnie Hyung! What are you doing in the art department?”

Minjae smirked, leaning down as your noses touch. “Can’t check in on my dongsaeng? Your classmates have been telling me that you’ve been cooped up in here. It’s not good for you to stare at the screen for this long.” You giggled, watching as he pulled away.

“Mhm. I’m okay, promise!” You could feel yourself acting cuter in Minjae’s presence. It wasn’t shocking. He always made you feel safe to act how you do behind closed doors. You could wear whatever you wanted around him without being judged.

A perfect, perfect hyung.

“Ah, Hyung, thank you for the coffee last time! I enjoyed it.”

Minjae hummed. “Coffee? I didn’t bring you coffee.”

“What? You didn’t? Then…” You pulled your lips into a pout as you thought about who would do something like that for you. It couldn’t be Yoona and Taeil. You weren’t close to anyone else.

“Ah, did my pretty dongsaeng finally get a secret admirer?” Minjae grinned, playfully pulling at your cheeks while you whined. The two of you began to giggle like little boys as you stared up at Minjae with a look of pure content.

You hoped you had Minjae with you forever.

A soft knock on the door caught your attention as you and Minjae glanced to the right to see who it was. The position you were in was almost of that of a couple. Your hand grasping Minjae’s as they rest on your shoulders. The previous nose rubbing and even just you looking up at him like he hung up the moon.

Were you two a couple?

❝ 타오른 이 감정은… ❞

Jinu was having a terrible day. First he had to entertain a few random teachers with something he didn’t even care to remember. Second he was bothered by some fourth years about a project they needed help on. And now, he had to deal with Cho Yoona and Im Taeil’s yapping about their favorite song while he walked to your classroom.

That song Yoona was playing just made him angrier. Insanity was the name of the song, at least that’s what she said. Jinu felt the same and thought if he had to see something else that pissed him off he’d die a slow death.

So of course he had to see you, his bunny, making fucking whore eyes to some random seonbae.

What the fuck?!

Jinu forced a tight grin and held up a bag filled with food. Food that was just for you but of course he can’t say that. Despite himself, he tried to keep an easy going and fun attitude when speaking to other people. Though he was wondering if he should forgo that for punting Lee Minjae into the sun.

That stupid pig.

You wouldn’t even look at Jinu, you haven’t been looking at him often these days. He knew it was because you were embarrassed about the sleeping arrangements. But it was the only way he believed you could get closer to him.

So what if he deliberately put a spider and other insects in your mattress in hopes they laid eggs and ruin it so then it would force you to sleep on the same bed with him?

You don’t understand any of his other hints or flirting attempts.

He needed results fast!

You were hopping away to any other dick that wasn’t his and he couldn’t have that.

This chase he was having with you was starting to make him insane. If he didn't have you beneath him soon he wouldn't survive another night with you. His whole plan about having you sleep on his bed honestly felt as if it was back firing on him. You were so cuddly when you slept, always finding a way to move over the pillow barrier.

He always pretended he was asleep when you woke up in a panic, always pulling away before he could truly saver your touch—your warmth.

He was truly going insane. All he could remember was the first time he ever saw you. But he couldn't think about it further when he felt Lee Minjae's hand pat him on the back. Jinu fought every muscle in his face to not immediately grimace at the other's touch.

"(Name)-Ah, Yoona, Taeil, I'll take my leave now. I don't wanna bother you guys any longer." Minjae leaned down towards you and Jinu felt his upper lip twitched as he watched the older with his stupid dyed blonde hair that looked fried and crispy nuzzle his nose against yours.

If that wasn't enough, Minjae wrapped his arms around your neck and held you close as he pressed a wet kiss on your cheek. You shrieked and struggled against his hold, trying to avoid the kiss. But you hardly put up a fight, all giggly and smiley. You looked so small in Minjae's arms, so pliant and easy to hold.

Jinu pulled at his sweatpants, coughing slightly. That seemed to catch Minjae's attention as he stopped his childish assault and gave (Name) a cheeky smirk. Yoona began cooing at how cute you and Minjae looked together.

You didn't. No way. Jinu fought the urge to pull Minjae away from you.

Taeil tilted his head, "Jinu Seonbae, are you okay? Your eyebrows are so furrowed. You might pop a blood vessel."

The others looked over at Jinu, Yoona and Minjae questioning if he was alright, you especially with a look of concern in your doe eyes.

Good.

Worry about him and him alone.

Pay attention to only him.

"It's nothing," Jinu said, puling out his signature lady killer smile. "I think I just need to eat something, I haven't had a proper lunch in ages." Yoona immediately swooned while Taeil rolled his eyes. Minjae seemed in deep though as he stared at Jinu, the fourth year tilting his head as if he was digging deep into Jinu's soul. Figuring him out with a just a look.

Minjae grinned. "Let your seonbae take you out, yeah?" He suddenly said, catching everyone's attention. "I know a place not too far from here that sells great tteokbokki."

Like I'd want to be caught dead with you... Jinu thought to himself but he simply hummed. "Sure, Seonbae. Bye, Yoona, Taeil..."

Jinu stared right at you as Minjae pulled away from you. Your eyes flickered over to Jinu and you offered him a tight smile, waving slightly. "See you, Jinu Seonbae."

"See you, (Name)." He whispered, mostly just happy you even looked him in the eye.

But his happiness was short lived when you looked at Minjae and offered him a cute smile. A smile that you’ve never gave him. "Bye, Minnie Hyung!"

Minnie Hyung?!

Jinu followed Minjae out of the classroom, curses swirling in his mind as he stared at the man beside him. Minjae chuckled after a moment or so and looked over at Jinu with a smirk. "Y'know, you can't blow my head off with just your stare. I didn't know you were into my (Name)-Ah."

His? Jinu was fine with being expelled at this point but Minjae suddenly stopped in his tracks. "Jinu-Ya," he placed his hand on Jinu's shoulder while Jinu wondered what gave the man the audacity to use such a title with him. "If you want (Name)-Ah, you have to take him. There's so many wolves that want him." He smirked knowingly, his finger tapping Jinu's shoulder.

Just as Jinu was about to speak, Minjae pressed his finger on his lips. What the fuck? "Listen to your hyung, Jinu-Ya. With someone so naive like (Name)-Ah, you just take him like you own him. Chase after him, there is a dead end soon."

With that, he pulled away and smirked. "Tell me how the chase goes. I've been waiting for someone to snatch up my dongsaeng."

Jinu just stood there blank faced in the middle of the hallway as Minjae walked away. Just what the fuck was that? He didn't even think too hard about it when he realized he didn't have to worry about you and Minjae. Phew, that stress was short lived.

But what did he mean by dead end?

ཆི❤︎ཆྀ

You were going insane.

It felt you were being watched these days. You had finally finished your project, having going with another idea and completely abandoning the whole nude thing. But it still sat in your drafts, practically calling you everyday. Sometimes you'd go back...

You'd finish certain parts of it. His body fully detailed expect that dreaded crotch. His dick. You wouldn't dare make what you believed his dick to look like. There was still some sense of self respect deep inside you.

Just not strong enough to not pay attention when you were drawing something for fun. You had a art account that you posted on like once every month of gay art you drew. So you were creating the piece, feeling in the mood to do something with oral fixation.

Only for you to notice instead of the usual two same characters you stuck to, it was Jinu as the top. Which, fair, it wouldn't be too different from what you had literally done weeks ago.

No, the problem was the partner.

You drew yourself.

You fucking drew yourself.

The drawing felt so real compared to the others you've made. Drawing Jinu between your legs, holding you up, bending you over on the bed. Your shoulders rest on the bed while your legs curled into yourself. His mouth biting the flesh of your ass, his eyes staring right at you, the real you.

Of course you had to angle it this way. Fucking pervert.

You tried to salvage the drawing but each stroke on that cursed tablet just made the partner look more and more like you. Okay, you were desperate for sex at this point. It was too much. You pressed the delete button on the sketch and powered off the tablet.

"I'm going, Taeil. Don't stay too late."

With lighting speed, you rushed to your dorm, trying to ignore the growing boner in your pants. Why did you have to like someone like Jinu? Out of all the people at this stupid university. Even Minjae would've been better than Kim Jinu of all people. But you couldn't complain any further because when you stormed into your dorm, fucking Kim Jinu was there, sitting at his desk.

Jinu glanced over at you and grinned, taking off his glasses as he shut off his laptop. "You're back earlier than normal. Did you end up finishing quick?"

You numbly nodded. "Yes... I just need to sleep. My eyes hurt." You couldn't even look at him. His gaze followed you as you grabbed your pajamas. Wherever you stepped, eyes were right on you, watching you like a predator does his next prey.

Bunny and fox.

That's what you imagined him as.

A fox.

It felt so hard to breathe with him near.

Why did it feel like there was no escape?

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞

The soft sputtering of the fan filled the room as you laid there right awake on Jinu's bed, wondering why you couldn't sleep despite your tired eyes. Jinu was fast asleep, his back pressed your own back. You didn't know why the usual barrier wasn't here tonight but you couldn't care too much about it right now. Not with your growing boner.

You haven't masturbated in two weeks. It's not a shock that the stupid art from earlier was still affecting you like this. You wondered if you could just sneak into the bathroom and quickly jerk one off. Would he notice? Just as you made the decision to get up, strong arms suddenly wrapped around your waist. Your body stiffened as you felt Jinu snuggled against your back.

His face buried in your neck, his nose and bangs softly tickling you.

What...the...fuck?!

Your legs subconsciously clamped shut at him so close. Okay, you were fucking screwed. The thought of moving seemed impossible now with him so close. His grip was so strong that you didn't understand how someone asleep could have such strong coordination.

Despite being cuddled by your crush, your cock was more alive than ever, leaking against your pajama pants. You let out a stifled whimper as you reached down and gently rub the bottom of your palm against your bulge. The relief was almost instant as a guttural groan escaped you before you could stop yourself.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Were you really going to do this?

Yeah.

Yeah you were.

Soon the fan wasn't the only one making noise. Your soft and breathy moans filled the room as you jerked off. Your body flinched from the pressure causing your butt to rub against Jinu's front.

Wait.

He was... hard...?

A wave of fear washed over you as you stilled your hand. No, no. He must be having a wet dream or something. Yeah, he can't be awake hearing you. No. No way. You needed to reach your damned orgasm and just go to sleep. You'd deal with the shame in the morning. You finally decided to pull down your pajama pants to grasp your cock and not just rub it anymore.

You pumped your cock, making sure to still your body so you don't accidentally rub your bare ass against Jinu's clothed crotch. He'd hate that. No, he'd hate to learn what you're doing. Fuck. The shame was already affecting you. Stray tears fell down your cheeks as you bit down at your pillow, still chasing your orgasm despite the shame filling your lungs.

Embarrassment. This was so fucking embarrassing.

It was close-- your orgasm. Inches away, dancing on the tip of your fingers as your moans began to reach a crescendo. So much for muffling yourself. Your edge to your orgasm was wrecking you—sending you to a mental space you couldn't imagine in any other circumstance.

Was this how sex with someone you liked felt?

Could Jinu make you feel this way?

Was... him being here making you this way?

It wasn't enough. You wanted more. Your legs shifted as you subtly pulled your pants down, kicking them off without a care. You didn't have any lube but you had no time. The tease of ecstasy was whispering your name—calling you to go further. So you did. You suckled two of your fingers, getting them as wet as possible before slipping down between your legs.

The two seconds of pain as you pushed them inside did not deter you. You could deal with a little pain. It was rough. Your fingers rubbed against your inner walls, searching for those bundle of nerves to drive you wild. But it was difficult in this position. You usually masturbated on your back or while sitting up.

You wondered if you should go as far as to shift positions. That'd be too much, right?

The shame was finally catching up to you. You couldn't do this. This disgusting and degrading action towards both you and Jinu. Your eyes closed as you sighed, eyes fluttering shut. It was too much.

"You're done already, (Name)-Ah?"

A chill crept up your spine as those three words were whispered right into your ear. Your eyes widen but you couldn't move. It was as if his words just took out any sort of life within you. His arms around your waist tightens as you feel him nuzzle himself further on your neck.

Your breathing feels erratic. You can't breathe. It feels as if you'd die right here, right now.

You looked down to see his hands. They looked recently bruised from his usual boxing. But now they felt different. As if it was a show at just how durable his body was. His arms slowly began to tighten around you only to you let out a sharp cry at the pain, earning a pleased grunt.

"You're awake, yeah? Are you ignoring hyung?" He whispered, his lips trailed your neck, stopping right at the tip of your air. "You can masturbate right beside me but can't even answer me?"

A pathetic whine left your throat as you tried to wiggle from his grip but it proved to be futile. You gasped, arching your back as you felt Jinu rub his crotch right against your butt. He began to hump you ignoring your shocked gasp.

Was he...?

"So selfish, bunny. Chasing your own release. Not even thinking about what your moans were doing to me." His right hand trailed down and pushed you to lay on your front, his body following to lay on top.

You cried out, gripping the bedsheets like a life line. "You.. were awake...?"

"I never went to sleep." He said honestly, spanking you right on your ass. You squeaked, back arching to get away from another spank. "I never knew you would do something like this. I was beginning to think you hated me."

"I never—”

"—but you never listen to me, do you? I tell you everyday to call me hyung but you never let it stick. What, do I have to force you to say it?"

"We aren't close!" You whined, whimpering at another spank. Your lower hips wiggled but you didn't make any effort to truly push Jinu off of you. You didn't understand yourself sometimes.

"What? But you call Lee Minjae hyung without any problem." Jinu grunted, his hand reaching over to grab something from the slim nightstand next to the bed. You couldn't tell what he grabbed until something cool and slimy was drizzled onto your ass. A whine left you from the coldness. "What'd he do? Fuck you? Chase you like you so desperately want?"

"Nooo," you whined, screaming when he shoved in two fingers inside your hole. Your hands dug into the bedsheets as he thrusted his fingers in and out, a constant rhythm with no sign of stopping despite your pleas for him to slow down.

Jinu chuckled, leaning down as he used his free hand to push your hair away from your face. "You act so innocent but you want this. I'll show you that I'm the only one for you. No other man can chase you like I can."

"What... ngh!!! are you talking... about..?" You manage to ask, wishing you could silence yourself. Your neighbors will certainly be having a long talk with you and Jinu tomorrow.

"Oh, bunny. My bunny, you really are so naive." Jinu whispered, pressing a kiss on your cheek. "You don't even know what you crave. It's okay, hyung will take care of you now. You won't ever have to think again."

Your body began to spasm as you felt a finger graze that bundle you tried to reach earlier. Jinu stilled for a moment, a look of slight worry in his eyes before he noticed what had just happened. A cruel smirk pulled on his eyes formed those crescent moons you once associated with his innocence.

But it didn't bring any sort of serenity to your body.

You were flipped onto your back with ease as Jinu grabbed your thighs and pushed them forward, effectively blocking your view from him. Desperate and pained moans left your lips as he continued to finger you, fingers gunning consistently at your prostate.

A loud scream left your throat as your back arched against the bed, your cock finally releasing the weeks long pent up lust you've stored for awhile now. Your stomach slowly rose and fall, coated in your sticky cum. All you could think about was your orgasm back in the classroom.

You were right.

Jinu made you cum harder than you could ever do by yourself.

You expected him to pull away but instead you felt a tug on your cock. A whine of overstimulation left your throat as you parted your legs and looked at him with wide doe eyes, confusion written all over your face.

A cruel smirk pulled on his lips as he tilted his head. "I've wanted you since I first saw you. You really think I'll let our first time be so lackluster?"

Lackluster?

He thought that was lackluster?

A pained cry left your lips as he began to thrust his fingers inside once more, leaving no sympathy as he immediately went for your prostate. You were going to die. You were going to die being fingered by your roommate. Kim Jinu was going to be the death of you.

It didn't take long for you to cum again and again, your fifth orgasm not even releasing anything. Your body twitched as your eyes watered, tears streaming down your face from the constant overstimulation. You weakly pulled your legs away from Jinu's grip after your fifth orgasm, muttering something about dying from his touch.

Jinu chuckled, allowing you to pull away. "Ah, Jagi," he whispered, causing you to blush at the title. To use such a term for you... You shamelessly felt your spent cock twitch. No, no, no! You absolutely couldn't do anymore. "You're so cute. I wanted to wait but I can't. You'll forgive me, right?"

You watched with wide eyes as he grabbed your waist and pulled you down towards him, earning a shriek from you. Your legs moved up to hide your aching and loosened hole but he was quick, spreading them wide. His eyes were like a predator, watching your every move as you tried pulling down your shirt to cover your weeping cock.

"Seon—Hyung... No more... No more, please." You whispered, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

Jinu's gaze narrowed in on your face. You could see him think. Your body was aching and praying Jinu did what you asked. But your heart....

Your heart wanted him to take you without a second thought.

"Hm. No." Jinu laughed cruelly, flipping you to rest on your knees. You cried out at the sudden movement but could only whimper as he pushed your back down, lifting up your hips. Your face pushed into the bed while your thoughts rushed at the position. It felt so humaliting to have sex without looking him the eye. You felt like an object. A prize he just won.

Your dick twitched.

So much for self respect.

"Hyung's gonna take good care of you." Jinu whispered, spreading your ass apart as he rubbed his cock between the cheeks. "You'll be good for hyung, mhm? No more seonbae."

You only whined, wiggling your hips, your ass rubbing Jinu's cock.

Jinu teasingly slapped your ass. "You complain about it being too much... But look at you now, begging for my cock. I should just stop listening to what you say and take what I want. Would you stop me, (Name)-Ah? Would you run away?"

Run away?

Run away from the man you've had wet dreams about since you came to this damn university?

"Mhm. I'll run..." You whispered, a strangled moan leaving you as he began to push his cock inside of you. The stretch was difficult and you briefly wondered if this was how you'd die.

Heart attack from a thick cock.

Despite your answer, Jinu hummed. "Good. I'll chase you until you're beneath me, shaking in fear as I take you." His hands gripped your waist as he slammed the rest of his cock inside, earning a gargled cry and scream from you.

Jinu was anything but sweet. Fucking you like a beast as you withered and cried from the constant pressure against your prostate. After this, you weren't sure you'd have sex again. This could be enough for a life time.

"Sorry, (Name)-Ah. I can't last long." Jinu suddenly grunted, pulling out. You whined at the lost but didn't have to mourn it for long as he pulled you onto his lap, making you face him. Your arms subconsiously wrapped around his neck as he easily slid back into your tight heat, gripping your thighs as he bounced you on his cock.

Jinu smirked, his eyes trained right on you. "You look so pretty when you cry." He said, pressing soft kisses on your neck. "Next time, you'll be crying from just my cock. I'll make you scream my name."

You whimpered, arching your back as you pulled him closer, another dry orgasm creeping on you. You'd be sleeping well for nights to come. Jinu grunted as he began to thrust upwards into you in tandem with bouncing you up and down, causing you to cry at the sudden pressure. You were close. So close.

A sharp feeling in your shoulder caused you to spasm as Jinu's thrusts became desperate. It took you a moment to even think about what just happened--so focused on Jinu's cock stretching you out. Until you noticed red dripping down your right shoulder.

He bit you.

The delayed reaction to the bite made you scream out, tears streaming down your face you reached your six orgasm of the night. You went limp in his arms, just letting him chase his own orgasm. Teeth sharp enough to break skin wasn't something you ever imagined Jinu could do. But there it was, a rare and sore bite on your right shoulder. Blood slowly trickling down to your chest.

Jinu finally reached his orgasm after a minute or so, holding you close as he cummed deep inside. You shuddered, feeling his cum coat your sore tight heat. He didn't wear a condom. If you weren't fucked dumb you would've yelled at him about it but all you could do was hum as he pressed soft kisses against your wet and sweaty skin.

You glanced down and noticed blood coating the bottom of Jinu's lip as he pulled away from you.

He did end up coating you in red and white.

But your blood was the lipstick. You couldn't help but laugh at your cringy thought, groaning as Jinu pulled his cock out.

"You did so good, (Name)-Ah." Jinu whispered, kissing you on the lips. You tried to return the kiss but could only purse your lips against his.

Your breathing was harsh and quick, your body battered from Jinu's claiming.

This wasn't normal. Wasn't conventional at all. You were sure that if you told Yoona and Taeil about this they'd be worried for your safety.

You were prey to Jinu

But you were okay with that.

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞

"You're going to roommate with a first year? Wow, good luck!"

"I didn't know they could do that."

"No one would willingly room with a first year. They're the worst."

"Aw, c'mon, Oppa! They're usually just nervous."

"Well, our Kim Jinu will have no problem. Who doesn't love him?"

"Ah, true. Good luck, Jinu!"

Kim Jinu pulled out his keys, unlocking the door to his new home for the rest of the school year. He'd be the one to get unlucky for his previously planned roommate to drop out of school—leaving his room open for a late transfer freshman. He didn't want to deal with first years, they were annoying.

He opened the door, shocked to see the room already having someone by one of the beds. The first year was knelt beside the bed, looking through the suitcase that was filled to the brim with clothes. Clothing that looked more feminine than anything but Jinu didn't judge.

He forced his usual carefree smile, ready to greet his new roommate when you finally turned around. His breathing stopped—his smile dropping at the sight of you. You... You were different from anything he imagined.

Your look of innocence. Your body suddenly becoming fidegty the longer he stared at you without saying a word. Your sweater drooping on your shoulder, showing off your bare shoulder. Your skin looked so soft, so plain. It needed something on it.

It looked too bare.

"I'm... Kim Jinu. Who are you?"

"Park (Name)." You whispered, your eyes flickering up and down his body.

Love at first sight wasn't real to Jinu. He wouldn't lie and say he felt love towards you when he first saw you.

He felt lust.

An urge to completely ruin you.

And by the look in your eyes, the not so subtle glances at his lower half of his body. You looked to be such an easy catch.

"Stop looking at me like that." You suddenly said, your lips turning into a slight snarl but it hardly held any weight. Jinu couldn't help but tilt his head. He could tell you wanted him but you were holding back?

Actively pushing him away as if you didn't look at him with the same lust he felt. Running away?

Like a game of cat and mouse.

No...

Fox and Bunny.

He was going to devour you.

Even if he had to chase you.

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 않은 나 ❞

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

WOW!!! Gosh, this was way longer than it needed to be. I wanted to try something new lmao. Doubt i'd do it again, i was listening to kpop while writing this so it kinda just happened. Translations at the bottom! Yes, i did it for a reason, made it more fun if you didn't know what he was saying. Red is lyrics, pink are jinu’s words

I might make him an oc, i put too much effort into him for it to be a one time thing, smh... primal play is so fun.

tag list: @iwishtobeacrow @flurrina @chill-guy-but-cooler @mello-life25 @the-ultimate-librarian @kiiyoooo @ofclyde @love-kha1 @star-3214 @mooncarvers-world @smellwell @tehyunnie @remdayz @rhetorical-conscience @tomoeroi

Translations:

❝ 벗어날 수 없는 걸 ❞ — I can’t escape

❝ 온통 너로 물들여질 테니… ❞ — everything will be colored with you

❝ 날 놀리는 거야, 예쁜 자기야. ❞ — you’re teasing me, pretty baby

❝ 무방비 토끼. 내가 너를 먹어치울게 ❞ — defenseless bunny. I’ll eat you up

❝ 도망기면 쫓이갈거야, 토끼야… ❞ — if you run away, I’ll chase you , bunny

❝ 타오른 이 감정은… ❞ — this burning feeling

❝ 지금 너를 미치도록 ❞ — i'm driving you crazy right now

❝ 숨을 쉴 수 없게 아프면서 황홀하잖아 ❞ — it hurts so much that i can't breathe, but it's ecstatic

❝ 네게 빠진 순간 더는 결백하지 않은 나 ❞ — the moment i fell for you, i was no longer innocent

Songs used: Insanity - The Boyz & Criminal - Taemin

[lethalchiralium]

hii your bio says that requests are open, so, if you don't mind, can i request a simon x reader where reader is also part of the 141 and got severely hurt, and turns out she's pregnant with simon's baby (they are together) but because of her injuries she lost the child? maybe they didn't know that she's pregnant. thank you love💞

hi!! i LOVE this prompt, so sorry it took so long lol

bring heaven down just for you | simon riley x wife!reader

cw: mentions of injury, blood, miscarriages

The car accident was extreme, even for the 141. They weren’t expecting to get T-boned in a city street, trying to make their escape, but it was short lived. You didn’t remember much, being in the backseat with your seatbelt off, on “follower” duty - pistol in hand, watching if anyone was tailing the escape. Price in the driver’s seat, Gaz in passenger, and Soap and Ghost were already at the safe house.

You remembered the car rolling, throwing you around like a ragdoll. Your head slammed against the roof of the car and then darkness took over, at least until you remembered hearing Price’s yelling. The way the straps on your vest were tugged and the blood curdling scream that left you, the explosion of pain in your leg, your shoulder, your abdomen - it woke you up instantly, and adrenaline seemed to kick in ten fold. Barely a glance down and you could see why pulling you wouldn’t be a good idea - so many glass shards in your body, deep red blood bubbled up and trickled out, you felt your body internally gag. You looked to the sound of gunshots, seeing Gaz firing off round after round, and soon silence followed. A slow blink, you found yourself crying out in pain in the street, Price knelt beside you, administering aid as you heard faint sirens. Soon, your eyes closed then opened again, finding yourself being loaded into an ambulance - Gaz and Price covered in blood. Panic surged through you, but so did the pain. A low rumble of pain escaped your chest, Gaz reached forwards and took your right hand - where did you gun go? - and held it gently, saying something you couldn’t quite hear.

A hand settled on your good shoulder, the one opposite to Gaz, you looked to your captain, now able to hear the siren wailing as he spoke, “Who do we need to call for you?”

A breath filled your lungs, only for you to cough and squeal out in pain. A moment more and you were able to grit out, “My husband.”

“What’s his name-“

The ambulance screeched to a halt, the back doors flung open, and your gurney was taken out. The IV in your elbow that was placed while you had passed out now seemed to prickle with pain, one nurse who walked beside your moving gurney drew a vile of blood before taking off, the rest of the medical crew pushed you into what you assumed was a trauma bay. You wouldn’t know, you’re not a medic. You’re just a sergeant, an infiltration specialist.

A doctor came in, placing a plastic bracelet on your wrist as you looked around with a heavy head. Price was with you, Gaz wasn’t… Where’s Soap and Ghost? Will they be here soon?

It felt like only two second passed when the nurse came back to your gurney, she was the one who took your blood. The other nurses still fluttered about, getting you ready for surgery as your captain stayed by your side. She had a somber look in her eye. There was a gentle hand on your shoulder, the good one, you paid no mind to Price - moving it to get his touch off of you. You didn’t want him there, you wanted-

“I have your test results, Miss.” You heard Price take a step back, the pain in your body began to feel fuzzy as the sedatives kicked in from your IV. The nurse stood beside you, holding onto the bed rail and you felt unease bubble into your lungs. In your adrenaline delirious state, you could still make out the look of the nurse’s face - the bearer of bad news. “Are you aware that you are pregnant?”

“I’m not pregnant.” It escaped like a whine, grabbing the nurse’s wrist with what little strength you had, your stomach twitched. “My husband and I have been- been trying for years. I- I can’t be.”

“You are, test confirms it. But we have to take you into surgery now, and I’m unsure if it will be viable after this.”

A growl emitted from your throat, “Save it. Save it. Save my baby. Please.”

There was a grim look on her face, and the doctor beside her. She stepped in, a calm look in her own eye as she spoke, “We’ll do the best we can, but I can’t guarantee anything.”

A hiccup escaped you, pain leaving you and your consciousness slipping away too, “Please. Save my baby.”

The doctor only nodded before she left, and the nurse gave you a somber look before leaving too. You couldn’t even look at your captain, the man you would have always looked to your guidance. But this… This was something you had to navigate alone and with your husband.

You were only awake for a few more moments, the anesthesiologist saying something about needing Price to leave, that you would be out soon. Your eyes grew heavy, you refused to fight it. Giving in meant not having to worry about losing the chance you’ve wanted.

When you woke up, pain encompassed you. A groan escaped you, your eyes opened and scanned the left side of the room, the light above your bed not being able to flood your room with light. It was dark outside, the stars still perched in the sky, your eyes moved right and you could see the dark mass of someone just entering through the door.

“Simon,” You whined his name, tears escaping your eyes in fat globs, your one good hand reaching for him. He was instantly by your side, hand gently moving from strands from your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Whatever for?” He murmured as he pressed his lips to your temple. “You survived. Why would you be-“

Your jaw set, the words spoken like kerosene, meant to burn yourself alive. “I was pregnant.” The raw sob that escaped you made you push your head back, looking your husband in the eye as you sobbed from your injuries and the loss of what could’ve been. “I didn’t- I didn’t know and- and it’s gone.”

Your husband froze, you watched every muscle inside of him contract as he gazed at you. You watched, in such agony, as you husband’s forehead fell to your bandaged one, his warm hands holding your face and his own tears sprung from his face to mix with yours. And all you could hear was what sounded like howling - loud and heavy sobs, ones that would make your body tremble. It was just hard to realize that they were coming from you, you only realized it when Simon’s hand went around to your lower back, trying to move you towards him, trying to hold you in a way that could truly comfort you. It was useless. Useless.

“It’s gonna be okay.” A meaningless saying now. It hasn’t meant a fucking thing since your third miscarriage in your second year of marriage. It hasn’t meant anything since you had to stop counting your losses and began to pretend that your husband wasn’t fucking destroyed that you couldn’t give him the one thing you want to. A family.

How could it be okay when you couldn’t do this one fucking thing that your body was made to do?

“We’ll be okay.” He murmured against your skin, your good hand holding onto his jacket sleeve, your head pounded as the sobs grew louder, turning into wails. As much as it hurt your throat, it hurt more now that after three years since your last one, you had a chance. And it was ripped from you, ripped from your hands before you even had a chance to understand why it had been given to you. A chance to show your husband that you could be good too, that you weren’t like your past either.

“It- It hurt- hurts-“ Was all you could manage, and you felt Simon’s sob shake you, burn you, crucify you. God, this must be Hell for him, because it’s more than Hell for you to think about the pain he’s in.

“I know, my girl, I know it must hurt.”

A zap of pain in your belly and you were crying more, the wails quieting to you begging him for medicine. Tears watered your vision of your Simon as he pressed the call button, brushing your hair back before looking you in the eye again. Even if you couldn’t see too well from the tears and the pain, you could imagine his velvet brown eyes - you could feel his tears as he brushed your hair back over and over, his words rumbled through you like a prayer.

“Our time’ll come soon, baby. And I’m so sorry that it wasn’t now, n’I know that’s gotta hurt so bad.” A kiss and then his cheek was pressed to your hair, you could hear the nurse come in, and more voices enter your room. There was no reason to fight your urge to close your eyes, let the tears fall, and listen to him. “But I’ll be here. I’ll always be here, jus’ like every time before, and any time after. I’ll be here, even if I have to kill a thousand men to get here. I will be here.”

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

perv!mean!Hopper, dom!Steve, soft!dom!Eddie x sub!Reader

Includes: MFM relationship, Hopper is a dirty cop/really sleazy human, oral sex, anal sex, guilt/shame/angst, blood mention, surgery mention, abuse of power, vomit, fingering, praise kink, piss, deepthroating, cockwarming, masturbation, swallowing, unprotected vaginal sex, pregnancy, shame, lies, secrets, squirting, and bubble bath sex… 🫨

PART ONE

@wordynerdygurl @eddiesguitarskills

• Our story begins in Chief Hopper’s Blazer, parked somewhere secluded in the woods of Hawkins •

“You got somethin’ to say kid-,” Hopper sighed, irritated. “Just fuckin’ say it.”

He was in a bad mood today…impatient. And honestly, it was the last thing you needed. “Why’re you so quiet anyway?” he asked, his hand sliding between your thighs. “Usually by now, you’d have this sweet little cunt in my fa-.” Hopper stopped speaking when he realized you were wearing underwear.

“The hell is this?” he asked. “You know my rules. No fuckin’ panties when you’re with me.” Hopper cursed, stamping out his burned-down cigarette. “You on the rag or somethin?” he asked, adding “I told you, it doesn’t fuckin’ bother me. There’s towels in the back, and besides-.” Hopper squeezed your thigh, a wry grin on his lips. “-I like it when you make a mess…”

You met his eyes, his deep blue gaze almost sinister with hunger. It would be difficult to say no to Hopper, even with the information you’d been wrestling with since morning.

“Jim,” you began, and he looked at you strangely, since you rarely ever addressed him by anything other than ‘Chief.’

“Yeah?” he asked flatly.

Your heart was racing a mile a minute, as you recalled the way your morning had started…nausea roiling in your stomach on the way to the bathroom from bed, vomit spraying the toilet bowl, and the piece of plastic you’d held between trembling hands, watching as two bold lines of color bloomed in the result area of the test…

“I’m pregnant,” you murmured softly. Hopper stared at you for a moment, before bursting out laughing. “Christ!” he exclaimed, his eyes crinkled in amusement. “How about that?” You watched Hopper light his cigarette, stunned silent by his reaction. “You told him yet?”

“Have I told who?” you asked. Hopper frowned back at you, confused but still smirking. “Your loser boyfriend,” he clarified, snapping his lighter closed. “You told The Freak he’s about to be somebody’s daddy?” Hopper chuckled again at his own words, finding the idea of Eddie being a father hilarious.

The shock you were feeling began to morph into anger. “What if it’s yours?” you asked, a bitter lump rising in your throat. Hopper’s laughter died quickly, his eyes going dark. “It’s not,” he retorted coldly, shifting in his seat to face the road, and not you.

“How do you know?” you asked, and he quickly (almost defensively) replied “because it’s not.” Hopper blew a cloud of smoke at the dashboard, resting his elbow against the driver’s side door. “Can’t be. I had the surgery-.” Hopper made a snipping motion with his fingers. “-Vasectomy. The kid’s not mine…”

You had no reason to believe him. Hopper could see the doubt in your eyes, so he chose to elaborate. “Had it done years ago. After my daughter, uh…” Hopper paused, his voice wavering. “…after my kid died. I decided I never wanted to go through that kind of…” He sniffed, clearing his throat. “…loss, again. So-.” Hopper shook his head slightly, as if shaking away a bad memory. “-I got fixed. Can’t lose a kid I can’t have in the first place, y’know?”

You wanted to believe Hopper. It would relieve at least some of your anxiety, but not all of it. You still wouldn’t be sure whether the baby was Eddie or Steve’s; but at least the affair you were having with Hopper could remain hidden, if the baby couldn’t be his…

“Besides,” Hopper said, interrupting your thoughts. “Can’t risk knocking up a girl like you, right?”

His question caught you off guard. “Like me?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Hopper replied. “One of my girls.”

Your lips parted, a weight sinking in your chest. Hopper’s smile took on a cruel affect.

“Oh?” he teased. “You thought you were the only girl I screw around with out here?” He waved his hand to the window, indicating the forest around you. “Trust me sweetheart,” Hopper continued, taking another drag of his cigarette. “You aren’t the only pretty girl in Hawkins with a boyfriend she wants to keep out of jail...”

His callous attitude was breaking your heart. You felt like a complete idiot for giving so much of yourself to Hopper, far more than your body alone. You’d felt safe with him, for some ungodly reason you couldn’t identify now. Regardless of how good Hopper was at fucking you, the reality of his monstrous character was finally, truly sinking in.

Hopper noticed the look of sorrow that had washed over you, and it annoyed him. “Now let’s get one thing straight,” he told you, leaning closer. “I still own this-.” Hopper slid his hand further between your thighs till he was cupping your pussy, squeezing it so hard you winced. “I still own you,” he added, his tone harsh. “And unless you want Eddie to miss the birth of his kid ‘cause he’s rotting in a jail cell-.” Hopper ripped the crotch of your panties aside and forced two fingers inside you. “-Nothin’ about our little arrangement changes. Understand?”

You nodded resignedly, a tear trickling down your cheek. Hopper rested his cigarette between his lips, using the fingers that had been holding it to pull down your shirt, and your bra along with it. He rolled your nipple between his thumb and index finger, pinching till you yelped.

In some sense, he felt that you were at fault in all of this…that you’d fucked up by getting pregnant. And the main reason Hopper wanted to punish you, was out of fear. Because he knew there was a very real possibility that you were pregnant with his baby. The vasectomy story was a lie, a well-rehearsed one he’d told many girls before you. Hopper really was just a selfish asshole who came in multiple women every week, and didn’t care about the consequences his reckless behavior might cause.

But this time, Hopper was afraid. He’d managed to escape the consequences of his actions for too long now; the truth would eventually come out. Hopper felt like this time, he might have really fucked things up. His bad mood from earlier was now a simmering rage. And he was going to take out all of his frustration on you.

Hopper pulled his fingers out of you with a loud squelch. “Get your ass in the back,” he ordered.

You obeyed.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Eddie and Steve weren’t stupid. They’d seen you rush to the bathroom that morning, obviously feeling unwell. They’d found it suspicious when you stayed in there for over an hour, blowing them off each time they asked through the door if you were alright.

You’d locked yourself in the bathroom as if guarding a terrible secret inside it. As soon as you’d left to go meet a friend for lunch Hopper for sex, Steve and Eddie had done a bit of investigating. And it didn’t take them long to figure out the reason you’d been hiding in the bathroom, and why you’d looked so upset when you left it.

The positive pregnancy test was thrown into the back of the cabinet under the sink, but Steve managed to find it. Eddie covered his mouth in shock when he saw it, a big smile on his face. Steve was less enthusiastic, but not because he didn’t want you to be pregnant. Steve was uncomfortable with the possibility that Eddie, and not him, could be the baby’s father. If Steve was going to have kids with anyone, he’d want it to be you. The idea of Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson beating him to it…pissed Steve off.

For his part, Eddie was just happy. He was babbling excitedly to Steve about baby names, what the three of you would need to change around the apartment before the baby arrived, etc. He was buzzing with energy, while Steve was taking the news of your pregnancy in stride. He was happy for you, but he wanted to be happy for the two of you...excited for your baby and his. Not your baby and Eddie’s…

While Steve sat on the couch in silent contemplation, Eddie paced back and forth restlessly, chatting away at Steve about all his plans for the baby. “(Y/N)’ll be home soon,” Eddie told Steve. “When she walks in, we should both jump out and be like, hey mama!”

Steve rolled his eyes at Eddie. “Nobody’s jumping out at anybody, okay?” he retorted. “She hid the test, Ed. She didn’t want us to know.”

Eddie’s look of joy faded. He knew Steve was right.

“If she wanted to tell us, she would’ve this morning,” Steve continued. “We have to respect her privacy. God only knows what’s going through her mind right now.” Eddie flopped down on the couch beside Steve, his leg bouncing nervously.

“Why wouldn’t she tell us?” Eddie asked, even though he knew the man beside him didn’t have an answer. Steve shrugged his shoulders in an attempt at indifference. “I’m sure she has her reasons,” he replied. “And she will tell us, when she’s ready...”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Hopper dropped you off a few streets over from the apartment complex, just as he always did after driving you out into the woods and fucking you. This time was different from the others. You were sore. Hopper had fucked you in the ass today, and not gently. It would take some time to recover, and the most appealing thing in the world to you right now was a warm bath you could lay back and relax in.

Standing outside the door to your apartment, you could hear Steve and Eddie talking inside. Part of you was happy they seemed to be bonding in your absence. Another part of you worried that they somehow knew about the pregnancy…or worse, about your affair with Hopper.

Your worries disappeared as soon as you opened the door. Steve and Eddie were busy in the kitchen making dinner, politely arguing about whether or not the pasta they were boiling was truly al dente. Your keys jingling got their attention. “Hey babe,” Steve called out. “Hope you’re hungry; Eddie and I boiled a shit ton of pasta by accident.”

Eddie held up the empty box the pasta had come from, idly inspecting it. “Yeah,” he commented as his eyes scanned the label. “Turns out one box yields, um…” Eddie pursed his lips, trying to do the math in his head. “…Waaaay more than we need,” he finished with a lighthearted grin in Steve’s direction. “Math was never my strong suit, okay?”

Steve left the stove and approached you, resting his big hands on your shoulders like protective mitts. The gesture was tender, warm, very unlike the affection you were used to getting from Steve. “Thought we’d eat in tonight,” he said, massaging your shoulders softly. “Maybe watch a movie together.” Steve was being so gentle, it took you completely by surprise, in the best way.

Eddie leaned in to your neck, nuzzling you with a soft kiss. “Dinner can wait,” he said, turning your chin to face him. “I think I’m in the mood to have dessert first…”

Steve nodded in agreement- “I second that,” -and let his hands glide down your arms, lingering around your wrists. “What d’you say, (y/n)?”

You realized how lucky you were, in that moment. These two beautiful men were standing there, wanting only to please you. A part of you wanted to reveal your pregnancy, but the possibility of ruining such a tender moment gave you pause. Guilt washed over your heart as you remembered your other secret, the one you were most afraid of confessing: Hopper.

“I think I’d like to have a bath first,” you told them. “And afterwards, I’ll absolutely be ready for dessert…”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The bath Steve ran for you was perfect. Big, fluffy piles of cotton candy-scented bubbles floated on top of the water, swallowing you in a warm hug as you sank beneath them. You let your hair fan out on the water’s surface, your eyes drifting closed as you tried to relax. A cassette player on the sink played a tape of ambient music that Eddie had chosen for you. The lights were dimmed, with a few candles flickering beside you on the edge of the tub.

It should have been the perfect atmosphere to relax in, but your mind was running circles. Additionally, the work Hopper had done on your ass earlier that day made sitting uncomfortable, even in a warm tub of bubbles. You tried to avoid thinking of the pregnancy, but it was impossible. Over the course of one day, you’d gone from worrying you were falling in love with Hopper to bitterly resenting the power he held over you. Could you really trust him, that there was no way the baby could be his? As much as you wanted it to be true, based on what you knew of Hopper’s character, you had plenty of reason to doubt him.

How could you have been so naive, to think that Hopper didn’t have similar arrangements with other girls? He’d taken such good care of you sexually, fucking you slowly, unselfishly. Maybe it really had been for him all this time; but Hopper made it seem like he was fucking you for your pleasure more than his own. Like he genuinely cared about you. The way he ate you out for hours on end, licking you till the pleasure turned to pain. Why would a man who had so many girls dedicate that much time to your satisfaction? To making sure you came at least six times in one afternoon? Was there something about you that Hopper couldn’t get from all his other girls?

You hated feeling jealous, especially over someone like him. Here you were, sitting in a beautiful bath prepared by Steve and Eddie, about to be fucked by both of them as soon as you were finished. And yet, you were jealous over a filthy son of a bitch that was twice your age and fucking who knows how many other girls?? You shook your head, bubbles fizzing at your ears. A quiet little sob escaped your lips, but not quiet enough for Eddie’s perceptive ears to miss.

He peeked around the doorframe, a concerned look on his face. “You good, (y/n)?” he asked. With a heavy sigh, you managed a smile, and rested your chin on the side of the tub. “I’d be better if you and Steve joined me,” you said.

Eddie’s lips quirked into a grin. He stuck his head around the corner and called for Steve, “get in here Harrington, she wants us in the tub with her.”

When Steve entered the bathroom, he was met with a view of you sucking Eddie off at the side of the tub. The image made Steve’s brain go a little hazy, and all he wanted was to be naked, too. Your eyes left Eddie’s and locked with Steve’s as you sucked. The look on Steve’s face made you grin around Eddie’s cock, the corners of your lips stinging at the stretch. “Fucking look at her,” Eddie marveled, running his fingers through your damp hair. “Look at how good she sucks it…”

Steve removed his shirt and began to work his belt undone. His cock was hard and leaking by this point, wet and ready for the moist heat of your mouth. He removed his pants and his boxers, kicking them aside as he made his way to the tub.

Eddie’s legs quivered as he stood beside the bath, with you on your knees in the tub taking his cock down your throat. Steve watched while masturbating to the view in front of him, massaging his cock in slow, patient pumps from base to tip. He knew he’d get the same treatment from your lips as Eddie, that all he had to do was enjoy the show till his turn came.

The soft gurgling sounds you made around Eddie’s cock had both men groaning. “Good fuckin’ girl,” Steve praised. “Takin’ such good care of Eddie’s cock…gonna take care of mine too, yeah?”

You nodded, your head bobbing on Eddie’s dick. Pulling your lips off his tip with a loud pop, you shifted in the water and reached for Steve. “Uh-uh,” he scolded, swatting away your touch. “No hands. You want my cock? Then find it with your mouth like a good little girl…”

Greedy, hungry to taste the sweet pearly liquid oozing from Steve’s tip, you did as he instructed. Clasping your hands behind your back, you leaned forward till Steve’s cock was bumping your mouth, smearing precum over your lips and chin. “Open up,” Eddie murmured down at you, patting his hand against your cheek. “Take care of Steve’s cock the way you took care of mine, pretty thing.”

As Steve pressed himself between your lips, his girth caused an even sharper sting than Eddie’s. Usually, this was the order you sucked them in; Eddie was a little longer than Steve but not as thick, so he generally went first and got your throat warmed up for Steve.

A hum of pleasure rolled deep in Steve’s chest as he fucked your mouth, watching his cock disappear between your lips again and again with every thrust. Eddie climbed into the tub, reaching for your hips and tugging them to meet his.

As Steve continued to use your mouth, Eddie pulled you onto his lap beneath the water. He splashed away a hill of bubbles to watch your pussy swallowing his cock under the water. Steve lifted his leg and braced his foot against the edge of the tub. This position gave him even deeper access to your throat, his balls slapping full and heavy against your chin as he took you. Gripping your hair in his fist, Steve used it as leverage to fuck your face as rough as possible, till your gag reflex activated and you smacked his thigh, telling him to pull back. Vomit spilled onto the ceramic bathroom tile. Steve wiped your lips clean with a towel and cradled your face in his hands. “You wanna stop, baby?” he asked, and you shook your head ‘no,’ in response.

Steve complied, burying his cock down your throat again without pause. Eddie’s dick was nestled balls-deep inside your cunt as he let you cockwarm him. The urge to buck up into you was deliriously tempting, but Eddie forced himself still, knowing he’d come too soon if he moved even slightly. The sounds you were making on Steve’s cock were beyond pornographic. Gulping, choking, gagging around the thick outline of his shaft, you forced every inch down your throat till you’d swallowed him completely.

Steve exhaled a flurry of curses, his hands in your hair gripping for dear life as his knees went weak. “Oh my-oh my god baby-how d’you-how d’you do that?” he gasped. “I’m gonna-fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna come honey, shit!”

Steve ejaculated so far down your throat, his cum slid straight to your stomach. Eddie completely lost it, watching Steve’s face contort in pleasure as he relieved himself inside your mouth. Unable to hold back any longer, Eddie bucked his hips upward, punching into you with a few hard, breathless thrusts. As Steve staggered back to lean against the bathroom sink, Eddie groaned into your shoulder and painted your pussy with cum. “Oh my god!” he exhaled, falling against the back of the tub, a big smile on his face. “That was…I’ve never come that hard in my life, (y/n)-.”

“Neither have I,” Steve chuckled, finding his breath again. He returned to the edge of the tub and caressed your cheek, smiling warmly down at you. “Good girl,” he said, and then left for the bedroom, ready to pass out in bed.

Eddie lifted you off of him, resting your ass on the side of the tub, and parted your legs over his shoulders. You held onto his hair as Eddie buried his face against your cunt, his tongue searching out and swallowing every drop of his orgasm. Your thighs were shaking, clamped around Eddie’s face as he ate you, licking your cunt clean, hoping to get you all dirty again.

His wish came true less than a minute later. Biting your bottom lip to keep from screaming, you came all over Eddie’s tongue. A mix of cum and piss squirted inside his mouth and ran down his chin in slippery streams, dripping into the tub. Eddie growled into your cunt, his hand furiously working his dick under the water, a second climax overtaking him as he swallowed your release. Thick ropes of semen expelled under the water, clinging to the hair on Eddie’s legs. He pulled you into the tub with him, soaking your bodies in both your cum and his, kissing you so deeply you’d swear Eddie’s tongue touched your soul.

Eddie gently rocked you in his arms, in the mix of bubbles, water and cum. His body stretched across yours and covered you like a protective shield. You felt safer than you ever had before, looking into the eyes of the man you loved more than anything, the man you would do anything for…

…even if that meant doing Jim Hopper, to keep Eddie safe. There he was, that horrible, cruel bastard, forcing his way into your mind again, even as you lay in Eddie’s arms. The urge to tell, at least one of your secrets, became overwhelming.

You held Eddie’s cheek and gently stroked his hair, your words barely above a whisper as you told him: “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes lit happily, the corners of his lips turning up into a grin. “I love you, (y/n),” Eddie said.

And that, you realized, was all the assurance you needed that no matter what happened from here on, things were going to be alright… 🖤

[lovebugism]

I positively adore steeb and shy!reader 🥹 can I please request steve comforting shy!reader after her first experience with the upside down? he just vows to take care of her?

ty for requesting!! — steve takes care of you when you won't let anyone touch you after fighting vecna (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, friends in love, cw for mentions of bruises/injuries, 0.9k)

Hawkins Memorial Hospital smells overwhelmingly of bleach and very faintly of copper. You think the last bit might just be you, though. The scent of metallic blood and alternate-dimension muck hasn’t quite left you — even though you’ve scrubbed yourself raw in the shower, three times over.

You sit in Max’s vacant room while she’s out for surgery. Everyone else is either sleeping off the grief or getting themselves checked out. You can’t do either — too plagued by nightmares and too frightened at what the doctors might find if they look at you too close.

Steve finds you in the dim room, lit only by natural sunlight, standing in front of the small square mirror against the wall. You get lost in the splotchy bruises on your face until he knocks gently on the cracked open door. 

“Hey…” he greets, gently to keep from startling you.

You swallow down the fleeting panic. “Oh. Hi.”

“I, uh, I brought you some ice,” he tells you and steps further into the room, waving a plastic bag of chipped ice in his hand. “I saw you flinch when you wrapped up Dustin’s ankle. I figured your shoulder was bothering you…”

He’s visibly shy, but you’re impossibly shier. The deafening quiet and the proximity of your bodies are equally suffocating. You cower beneath the weight of it, wringing your clammy, cut-up hands together. “I’m— I’m fine. Thanks…”

Steve flashes you a wavering smile, lopsided and perfectly pink. He forces a laugh through an aching chest because you haven’t talked about what happened since you got back. He figured it was normal at first — that you were still grappling with the whole fighting monsters thing, but you haven’t let anyone touch you in days. The doctors have been begging to look you over since you got here.

“I just… I wanna help,” he confesses.

A pleading look swims in the deep honey of his eyes. It becomes impossible to turn him down. You’d have an easier time fighting Vecna, you think.

You swallow hard. “It’s… It’s my back,” you shrug, then grimace when the movement makes you ache.

You’d fallen through the decrepit floor of the Creel house and landed hard in the basement. The vines slithering there broke your fall. For the most part, anyway. The damn things would have swallowed you whole if Steve hadn’t been brave enough to jump in after you. 

“Can I see?” he wonders.

You hesitate for a moment. “I haven’t really— looked at it yet,” you murmur with a pained look twisting your features. You turn around when Steve approaches you. You feel his warm fingers along your back, knuckles skimming over your skin as he lifts your shirt with a slow and gentle touch — giving you ample time to stop him if you wanted.

When you don’t, he raises the fabric to the middle of your spine. The entire canvas of your back is darkened with a hardly healing bruise. The sight of it makes him grimace. “Jeez…” he mumbles before he means to.

Your brows pinch. “Is it bad?”

“We’re gonna need a lot more ice,” he answers with a forced laugh.

You giggle at his half-joke. The pretty sound makes him smile.

“You should probably see a doctor—”

“No,” you interject with a firm shake of your head, sterner than he’s ever seen you.

“But it’s— It’s kinda gnarly—”

“I’m fine,” you insist, despite the bruises darkening your skin. You turn back around to face him and avert your gaze at the pitiful look he gives you. You cross your arms over your chest and bite back a wince. “I’m okay, Steve. There’s other people to worry about right now.”

Max, for one. And all the rest of the kids for another. And the rest of the town who lost something in the earthquakes. You got off pretty lucky, all things considered — just a couple of bruises. And a cut or two. And some pretty gnarly nightmares. But that’s it.

Steve’s lip quirks in a sympathetic smile. “Here. C’mon. Sit down.”

He urges you to the made-up hospital bed with a hand hovering over your lower back. Your perch on the side of it, one leg curled beneath you, as Steve slides in behind you. He raises the hem of your shirt and presses the icepack against your shoulder blade, where the bruises seem darkest. His touch is gentle and feather-light, almost comically so. The bag of ice just barely grazes you.

“Is this okay?” he asks.

You nod. “Yeah… Thanks.”

His hand grows heavier when his touch becomes more confident. The stinging of the cold soothes the deep ache in your shoulder.

“No problem,” he says before swallowing down the nerves crawling up his throat. “I’m always here, you know? If you ever need anything.”

You exhale a sharp laugh through your nose. “I feel like you have better things to do than take care of me,” you murmur, wringing your hands into a knot in your lap.

“Well, I don’t.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“What?” he scoffs. “That I’d rather dote on you than do anything else?”

“Yeah,” you laugh and shoot him a playful look over your shoulder. You smile when you find him already grinning at you.

“Well, believe it, alright? ‘Cause you’re stuck with me now.”

“Am I?”

“Yep,” he answers, popping the p.

“We fought monsters together, and now we’re bonded for life?”

“Exactly.”

You flash him another glance, eyes glittering as you bite back a beaming grin. “Sounds miserable,” you tease.

Steve nods with a crooked smile. “Absolutely horrible.” 

[empress-hancock]

Uh, actually, radfems are talking about it. We talk about it all the time. @ovaruling speaks about it pretty frequently, as she has experience with chronic pain and disability due to plastic surgery.

Very recently (like, within the past few months) there as a several thousand note post going around that was pretty much saying that any critique of plastic surgery is anti-trans because trans people need it and if we try to regulate cosmetic surgery at all it will make it harder for them to access srs, so that may be part of why you are seeing so little criticism of plastic surgery in your circles

About surgeries. There was a case in my country of a 16-years-old dying from a botched labiaplasty... By pure chance, I ended up administrating a tattoo/pericing parlor alongside a woman who actually knew the poor thing. It turned out that she got groomed by this 30-something-years-old man (who had no qualifications yet still stuck around the local bodymod community) who convinced her to let him perform it on her, she started bleeding a few days after, then died in ICU.

That’s just heartwrenching. And so preventable. I bet that man doesn’t even care.

All this anti trans legislation, meanwhile there are MORE cosmetic surgeries done on minors than gender affirming surgeries on minors. I don’t know why no one is talking about it.

[thylacines-toybox]

Making a bunny into a thylacine!

I’m at it again with extreme Jellycat modding! I love my bashful thylacine Patchouli so much, I wanted to have a small version too. This time I thought I’d record the process a bit more!

Plushie surgery under the cut! It’s fairly extensive, including removal and rebuilding of a whole face, so be warned! (It all turns out well in the end though!)

The first step is de-earing the bunny! They stitch these ears in quite firmly (you know how much these bunnies get swung around by the ears!) so it takes quite a lot of unpicking.

One ear gets folded inside out, stitched, trimmed, then stuffed to form a tail!

The second ear gets unpicked entirely, so I’ve just got a single layer of ear fabric. I sew this together with some white fur to make new ears.

Oh, I had to shave this fur down a little to match the shorter fur of the small size! Some extra trimming was needed after sewing pieces on too, especially on the stripes to neaten them up.

Next it’s time to rework the face, unpicking the nose and embroidered mouth, and basically opening up the front of the snout and chin a little bit. With an extra white muzzle piece added, this will help elongate the whole head.

The old eyes need to come out too! I can access the backs of them through the open snout. This plastic washer on the inside needs to be cut off to remove the eye, and the small hole that is left needs a couple stitches to close it up.

A little white fur is used for the muzzle (the shape of this piece is sorta like, a bean with a dart in the bottom…) and stitched nearly all the way around, just leaving an unsewn gap at the top where the nose will go.

A new nose made from an oval of minky, stitched around and drawn up like a little bag around a tiny ball of stuffing. Bashful Jellycats usually have a faux suede nose, but minky doesn’t look too out of place! Other Jellycats can have minky noses.

Nose and ears sewn in place, and new eyes have been fitted in a higher up position than the original eyes, emphasising the snout! (Fitted the eyes by going in through the ear holes before I sewed those in…)

On my medium bashful thylacine I sewed a little dark patch of fur on under the eyes, but I left it out here as it’s just too small and looks fine without. The medium also had a mouth embroidered, but I decided against that here too!

Now time to pattern out stripes… three is fine. Gets the idea across.

This is my least favourite part lol, it’s so tedious… sewing through fur, trying to get the stripes’ positioning and furry edges to look nice and even……. blah.

And finally, small bashful thylacine is done!! Now they just need a name and some accessories :)

[hollyhomburg]

Before I Leave You (Pt.65)

(Sneak peek) (Omegaverse au, Mafia au, Bts x Reader)

Summary: The truth always comes out one way or another, and with Jimin temporarily whisked away for surgery- it's up to you and yoongi to answer Namjoon's questions.

Tags: angst, blood, guns, murder, discussions of morality, descriptions of dead bodies, discussion of past spousal abuse, confessions, hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals, reconciliation, vmin focus, Trans! tae, discussions of transness, everybody lives nobody dies,

W/c: 12.0k

A/N: this chapter is a bit heavy on the dialogue but! sorry that this chapter came out when it did, we're finally here! sorry for the break in chapters- I got some not great news about a family members health and wanted to spend some extra time with them over the holidays.

Previous part - Masterlist - First part

Chapter 65 Sneak Peek: Lucky Gods

You drop a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder without a word. After some beckoning Namjoon follows you into the room. Legs shaking and sluggish at first. The pack is quiet even as the door closes.

But once Namjoon's moving it’s hard to stop, careening like a comet or a bullet in your direction.

To say that Namjoon is angry is an understatement; rage rolls off of him in quiet unending ripples carrying with it the strength to change the pack for good if he’s not careful.

He watches you startle and turn, eyes widening. You do not make to move out of his path.

Namjoon has never made you feel afraid before, but the pulse of it, the threat of it is there as he backs you against the wall until your body lies against it. Looming over your head, so much taller and larger than you.

An alpha. An alpha hunting. You tremble but do not move to avoid him.

He has a tiny bit of blood on his face, and a hairline splatter, almost like a constellation of stars across his temple. His fingers are harsh and shaking when they dig into your cheeks, pinching them until your lips open. Your knees tremble and you press your palm flat against the wall.

His scent thunders so thick and consuming that you can't physically stop yourself from trying to bear your throat. Namjoon stops you, holding you in place.

His eyes are dark and heavy-lidded as he looks down at you, He pinches your cheeks harder, shakinging you just a little. His voice is steady when he speaks, a low snarl.

“Never make me hurt one of our packmates again.” You swallow, although it’s hard. And he pinches again, harder before you get a chance to speak, to try and defend why you brandished that knife at Jimin hours ago. “I mean it. Never.”

He holds you there for a second longer before he lets you go, gasping. His hand slides down your throat to your neck, around the back near your scruff and gives it a small reassuring squeeze that only makes you feel like you're about to fall over. You would fall over if it wasn't for his touch keeping you up.

“I’m sorry.” You choke out, a few stingy tears making themselves known at the corner of your eyes. Namjoon rests his forhead against yours and closes his eyes. his spiky silver hair hitting your skin.

After a second he opens them again, nodding, and his scent looses its bitter edge. He steps closer, guiding you to rest against his chest. You take big gasps of his scent now that he's giving you permission. your instincts thunder through you so viciously that you can't physically stop yourself from tilting your neck and bearing your throat.

Namjoon just drags a finger down it, humming. He holds you up, arms around your shoulders, an anchor and a cage.

“It’s not okay.” I’m not okay, “but I forgive you.” Your knees do give out when Namjoon’s hand brushes the back of your neck, fingers digging in tenderly. Because even if he wants to be angry, anger won’t accomplish anything.

He walks you two strides, to put you into a chair next to Yoongi. Your mate takes you from him. the plastic chair makes a loud scraping noise against the linoleum floor. Jin’s on your other side looking just as tired as the rest of you. You'll get no rest tonight, sleeping in Jimin's hospital room when he gets out of surgery, every fitful dream interrupted by the oxygen monitor on his arm.

Secret, killer, and agent. All there in a pretty little row. Namjoon glares down at the three of you and crosses his arms.

“Explain.” Namjoon can’t wait another minute, another second. “Explain to me everything going on in my pack that I don't know about right now or I swear I’ll-“

Yoongi scoffs, "That you'll what? That you'll tear us apart Namjoon? that you'll leave? Look around you- we're already falling to pieces."

Coming Saturday January 6th at 5pm EST (Time Zone Adjustments below)

[schizopositivity]

Is it harmful in anyway to have a schizophrenia diagnosis I mean in a legal aspect does it make harder to apply to maybe jobs or apartments or the like? I’m considering getting screened but I’m worried about that kind of thing…

I'm not sure what country you live in, but I'm USAmerican so that's what I know, and I'll answer based on those laws (or you can send another ask to clarify your country).

Employment: your employer or potential employer cannot legally discriminate against you based on a schizophrenia diagnosis. You have no obligation to even tell them. Some places require doctors notes for proof that you have to take time off for an appointment, but even then your personal medical information like a diagnosis does not need to be disclosed.

Housing: your potential landlord/apartment manager cannot legally discriminate against you based on a schizophrenia diagnosis. Once again, you don't even have to tell them.

~other legal stuff I'm adding~

Adoption/Fostering: you do have to disclose any diagnosed mental illness when applying to adopt or foster a child. But a schizophrenia diagnosis doesn't automatically disqualify you. You would just have to prove that you can successfully manage your mental illness, and will be a safe and reliable parent.

Military: the US military will not let you apply if you have any sort of psychotic disorder.

Involuntary care: anyone potentially can be put into psychiatric care involuntarily if they are a threat to themselves or others. Anyone potentially can also be put into a conservatorship if they can't manage their finances or can't make medical decisions. These decisions are not made because of a diagnosis, instead they are made due to the actions of the person and their safety.

Elective procedures/plastic surgery: you do need to disclose your diagnosis when getting elective procedures and plastic surgery. This includes any procedure that is part of transgender healthcare. A schizophrenia diagnosis won't automatically disqualify you, but you will need to be assessed by a psychiatrist who will deem if it is safe for you to carry on with the procedure.

[magicfootballstuff]

Gym Buddies (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: When you rupture a ligament shortly after joining Barcelona, your new captain is there to help you through the long recovery process.

———

You don’t actually see much of Alexia in your first few weeks at Barcelona.

You had been in camp with your national team when the news broke that Alexia would be missing the Euros because of a knee injury, and though you paid attention to the story, knowing that this was an injury affecting a soon-to-be teammate, you had been so caught up in your own Euro preparations that it didn’t actually register what it meant until you actually find yourself in the Barcelona training facility for pre-season.

You meet Alexia on your first day with the team. She welcomes you in accented English and pulls you in for a hug - the kind of polite but awkward hug you get from a vague acquaintance - and then moves away to chat to some of the Spanish girls, leaving you slightly starstruck. You try not to let it show though. She may have a Ballon D’Or and another potentially on the way soon, but you’re a European champion, a very good footballer in your own right, but it’s Alexia bloody Putellas and she has this aura of magic around her, even without a ball at her feet.

And then, when the team start their warmup drills for your first ever training session at Barcelona, Alexia disappears off the pitch for her rehab session in the gym, and you realise it might be a little while longer before you actually get to play with her.

She remains a bit of a mystery, showing her face here and there, though she mostly seems to spend time with the girls who have been at Barcelona with her for years, and she shows up dutifully to every match to cheer from the sidelines, but Alexia is focused on the rehab that keeps her away from the training pitch.

But then, three weeks into the season, just when you’re starting to feel settled and have found your place in a star-studded Barcelona team, an awkward challenge in a match sees you falling badly and being helped off the pitch by the team physios with tears in your eyes. You hope it’s just a sprained ankle, something you can recover from quickly and find yourself back on the pitch in just a few weeks, but the scan the morning after the game confirms the worst - you’ve torn a ligament and will be out for several months.

Having not really spent much time with Alexia so far, it’s a bit of a surprise when you turn up to the training ground for your first session post-surgery, foot strapped up in a plastic boot, and are greeted straight away with a hug from your injured captain.

“We’ve got this,” she murmurs into your ear, her arms still wrapped around you as she holds you close. “Anything you need, I’m here to help.”

“Thank you,” you tell her, squeezing her just that little bit tighter in response.

———

Later, when most of the girls are out on the pitch and you find yourself in the gym with Alexia and a couple of others who are sidelined with minor injuries, she reiterates her support for you.

“Are you okay?” she asks, while one of the physios is writing up your programmes for the day on a whiteboard in the gym - you’ve got an upper body circuit while Alexia will be doing a mix of strength training and low impact cardio.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I’m fine.”

“No, I mean are you okay? Like mentally?” Alexia taps her fingers against her temple to emphasise her question. “An injury can be tough to take.”

“Oh. Well, I’m disappointed, obviously. I just want to play. But this is part of football.”

“Somebody paid attention to their media training,” Alexia jokes, shooting you a little smirk. “A very professional answer. But you can open up to me if you’re struggling. I get it.” She gestures down at her knee. “Some days I’m really not okay. I love supporting the girls but it’s so hard to watch them and not join in. So if you need someone to talk to, remember I’m here. As your captain and as your friend.”

You realise now why she’s so popular among the team, why everybody who knows her speaks so highly about her as a person off the pitch as well as her obvious talent on it.

“Thanks, Alexia.”

“We’ll get through this. We’re injury partners now.”

“How about we say gym buddies instead of injury partners?” you suggest, gesturing around at the gym that will be your home for the foreseeable future until you get the all clear to go back out onto the training pitch. “Less depressing.”

Alexia grins at you.

“Deal.”

———

“Hola, gym buddy,” says Alexia, hurrying to catch up with you and draping an arm around your shoulders as you hobble into the gym on crutches two weeks into your rehab.

It’s been the hardest two weeks of your career, but you wouldn’t have been able to make it through without Alexia’s constant presence and support. You haven’t known her for long but she seems to know you better than anybody else on the team, she knows exactly what to say, when you need support and when you need space, and is rapidly becoming the sole reason you’re able to get out of bed each morning and motivate yourself to work through the slow progress of your rehab.

“Hey, Alexia,” you greet your captain.

“Ready for another day of hard work?” she asks you.

“I am now,” you joke.

Rehab is hard. And boring, too. You don’t yet feel like you’re actually making any progress, still unable to do any exercises that put unnecessary weight on your injured foot, you’re really just playing a waiting game until the boot can come off and the real work can begin.

“I’m hoping they let me use the bike today for the first time,” Alexia tells you, excitement barely contained in her voice.

“Ale, that’s huge!” you congratulate her. “I’m so happy for you.”

———

Recovery isn’t all good news. You learn that the hard way when your plastic boot comes off. What you thought would be a huge step forward in your recovery actually ends up just highlighting the mountain you have ahead of you. Perhaps naively you thought you’d be able to start ramping up the exercises pretty quickly, but the trainers are cautious and your rehab programme consists of the same old upper body workouts with only a handful of conditioning exercises for your ankle thrown in. Actually kicking a football again seems like it’s an eternity away.

But you’re not the only one who finds it difficult. Alexia presents such a strong exterior, full of motivation on your darkest days and always the one working hardest in the gym to get back to her best, but not even she is made entirely of stone.

You learn that when you go to the bathroom in the middle of a gym session and hear somebody crying in a locked cubicle.

Most of the team are outside on the training pitch, and of those of you doing recovery sessions indoors, all except one were accounted for when you left the gym a moment ago. There’s only one person this can be.

“Alexia?”

The sniffling stops and the subsequent silence that shrouds the bathroom is enough to confirm your hunch that your captain is the one crying in the locked cubicle.

“Alexia, it’s me.”

“I’m fine!” she calls back.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you ask.

Silence. You want to support her but you’re not going to push it if she’s not comfortable.

“Okay, I’m going to go now but if you change your mind…”

You hear the bolt being slid across and the hinges creak as Alexia steps out. Her eyes are red and puffy and her cheeks glisten with tear tracks.

“I can’t do this,” she confesses, her voice cracking mid-sentence as she tries to stifle a fresh flood of tears.

You don’t know what to say. Alexia, the stoic captain, your rock since you picked up your own injury, standing before you more vulnerable than you’ve ever seen her before, and all you want to do is make sure that it’s all going to be okay. But telling her that doesn’t feel right - you know from your struggles with your own injury that those kinds of empty assurances are sometimes the exact opposite of what you need.

Alexia doesn’t need telling that, she needs to know that somebody understands her pain.

“I’m not going to tell you that you can do this,” you start, “but there have been so many times over the last couple of months that I’ve thought that I can’t do this. I’ve wanted to give up, to quit football. Some days I haven’t even wanted to get out of bed. Do you know the only reason why I did get up on those days?”

You pause for effect and Alexia says nothing, waiting for you to answer your own question. You place your hands on her arms as you look into her shimmering eyes.

“Because I know that when I get to the training ground, my gym buddy is going to be there to help me through the day.”

Alexia’s mouth twitches at the mention of the affection nickname you’ve been using for each other throughout your recovery.

You continue, “I’m working towards the day that I get to step out onto the grass and kick a ball around with the person who has saved me from my own worst demons. I want to play football with you. And just like you’ve been there for me, I’m here for you to make sure we get to that day together.”

“I can’t be strong every day.”

“You don’t have to be. But I think the strongest thing you’ve done since I met you is admitting that you’re not okay. I’m here for you today, so let it all out. Tomorrow we fight again together. Okay?”

Alexia throws her arms around you and pulls your body against hers for a tight hug.

“Okay,” she murmurs into your hair.

———

Something shifts after that moment. Before Alexia’s little breakdown, you had thought that it was her who was supporting you through your injury, but now you realise that you’re helping her just as much. You both have difficult moments - setbacks, or days where your return to the pitch seems an impossibly long way in the future - but you learn to read each other. Alexia can tell when you’re having a down day and gives you extra encouragement, hugs and humour, and you do the same when you can tell that she needs it too.

The months pass and the recovery intensifies. Somehow, despite your differing injuries, the timelines start to match up. You’re back running on the grass not long after Alexia, you rejoin the rest of the team for parts of the normal training within a week of each other, and when the time finally comes for you to return to the matchday squad, you and Alexia are both given approval to play again by the physios on the same weekend.

You even get subbed onto the pitch at the same time, when Barcelona are four goals up with twenty minutes left on the clock.

As the official gets the substitute board ready, Alexia’s hand finds yours and she squeezes your fingers. Your turn your head to look at her, to find her grinning at you.

“We did it,” she tells you.

“Yeah, we did.”

There’s so much more you want to say, so much you need to thank her for, because you wouldn’t have made it to this point without her by your side, but this isn’t the moment.

The teammates you’re replacing high five you as they come off and just like that, you’re back on a football pitch for an actual competitive game for the first time in forever.

The stadium erupts into monumental applause, and while you know that the Barcelona fans are mostly cheering the return of La Reina after ten months off the pitch, Alexia makes sure to direct her own applause to you as you both jog onto the pitch, and that’s all that matters to you.

Alexia ends up scoring Barcelona’s fifth and final goal, a free kick from just outside the box, because how else does a double Ballon D’Or winner announce their return to competitive football? As the back of the net ripples and the crowd roars, she runs straight over to you and wraps you in an embrace so tight that she physically lifts you off the ground, and your feet only touch the grass again when the rest of your teammates join the huddle to congratulate their captain.

The match ends not too long after and Alexia once again seeks you out straight away. She puts a hand on either side of your head and looks you straight in the eye, her face cracking open into a grin.

“We’re back,” Alexia says.

“We are,” you agree. “And you scored.”

“That goal was for you.”

You don’t get to respond because the rest of the team bundles into you and you can only watch as they work together to lift Alexia up and start throwing her into the air. Then before you know it they’ve gone for you too, and you find yourself lifted off the ground in celebration of your return to the matchday squad.

You have a brief moment of worry that they’re going to drop you and inflict another injury on you, but then you hear Alexia’s laughter rippling through the air and you feel at ease again.

She always has a way of settling your anxieties, whether she’s trying or not.

———

Some time later, when you’ve showered and changed and the dressing room is almost empty, you look around for Alexia but can’t see her anywhere.

Lucy, who is supposed to be giving you a lift home after the match, nudges you and says, “She went back onto the pitch.”

You turn to look at her quizzically, because she can’t possibly know who you’re looking for.

“What?”

“Alexia. Go on, I’ll wait in the car. Tell her how you feel.”

Your cheeks burn.

“It’s not … I don’t …”

“If there’s anything I’ve learned from my own past injuries,” Lucy interrupts your stammering, “it’s that life is too short to live with any regrets. Go and talk to her. I think you’ll be surprised.”

You don’t say anything but nod your thanks to Lucy, hoisting your boot bag onto your shoulder and exiting the dressing room. You wander back down the tunnel and out to the edge of the pitch. Alexia is nowhere to be seen, but when you turn around, you spot a lone figure sitting up in the stands, surveying the empty pitch in front of her.

You climb the steps two at a time and walk between the rows of seats, before sitting down next to Alexia.

“I’ve been playing on this pitch in a Barcelona jersey for longer than I can remember,” Alexia tells you, keeping her eyes straight ahead. “Every time it’s special. I can’t tell you how many times in the last few months I thought I’d never get that honour ever again.”

You laugh, ready to tell Alexia that she’s insane, because while you had similar moments of worry in your own rehab journey, you never for once doubted that Alexia wouldn’t make it back, but she turns to you and continues speaking.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have got here without you,” she tells you.

“I definitely wouldn’t have done it without you,” you admit. “My gym buddy.”

Lucy’s words ring in your ears. Now is the moment to tell Alexia how you feel, but you clam up at the prospect, unable to find the words to tell Alexia how much she means to you.

Luckily, Alexia seems to be stronger than you, and finds the words you can’t.

“You’re so much more than my gym buddy,” Alexia tells you, reaching across and taking your hand. “You entered my life at exactly the right moment and I’m so lucky to have you.”

You let your fingers tangle with Alexia’s, you heart hammering in your chest as you steel yourself for a moment that seems harder than any you went through during your recovery.

“I’m the lucky one,” you confess. “I wouldn’t have wanted to do this with anybody else by my side. You’re more than my teammate, more than my friend. I think I’m falling for you.”

There. It’s out. You finally admitted it. Your heart is out there for Alexia to bruise in a way that will be much harder to heal from than a stupid ankle injury.

But Alexia lets out a deep breath and her mouth curls up into a smile, a look of adoration in her eyes as she squeezes your fingers.

“Me too. I’m so glad you feel the same. I thought I was being stupid.”

“Can I kiss you?” you blurt out.

“Please,” Alexia nods.

You lean in and the moment that your lips touch Alexia’s is even more euphoric than kicking a football again after months of rehab. A memorable day becomes even more special as Alexia reciprocates your kiss, lips moving slowly against each other, a reward and a thank you for months of helping each other through the tough times to get to today.

You pull apart when you’re getting breathless, and though you’d happily spend the rest of the night here, kissing Alexia in the stands at the Estadi Johan Cruyff until long after the sun has gone down, you know you should probably head home.

“I really don’t want to go, but Lucy’s waiting in the car to drive me home,” you tell Alexia, still holding onto her hand as you start your goodbyes. “But thank you again for everything.”

“I don’t think I’m going to forget today for a long time,” Alexia says. “For more than one reason.”

“Me neither,” you agree. You lean in for one more kiss, unable to get enough of Alexia’s lips, before you pull away and reluctantly let go of her hand as you stand up. “See you in training?”

“Or sooner,” suggests Alexia, with a smile that causes your heart to do a little flip. “I’ll text you.”

“I can’t wait.”

[forwhump]

Worry

a/n; im posting again im so sorry !!!!!!!!! lmfao somebody stop me

tw/cw: self harm, mentions of grievous bodily harm, traumatic brain injuries, medical torture

human weapon whumpee

With a snarl, Silas crushes the pen in his hand into sharp bits of plastic shrapnel that bite right through his palm.

He makes to throw the wreckage at the wall, but Wren is quick to catch him by the fist. He uncurls his fingers to carefully pick the chunks of plastic out of his shredded palm. He places them onto a bloody cloth he has spread across his bed beside him, keeping collected the other bloody pieces of plastic from the other pens Silas has so far destroyed.

He just can’t fuckin’ do it.

Wren gently wipes down his palm with a damp washcloth and isopropyl alcohol, whatever the hell that is. It stings, but a stinging pain is one of the more preferable kinds. He prefers a stinging pain to this whole thing, in fact. “It’s okay,” Wren tells him softly.

It isn’t.

“I can’t fuckin’ do it,” Silas snaps. His hand shakes in Wren’s. His hands are always shaking, and nothing helps, nothing stops it. Tremors, the unit’s doctor, Medic, had called them. A lingering effect from a traumatic brain injury that he might never recover from.

“You’re learning,” Wren reminds him softly. “It’s okay.”

It’s pathetic.

Silas the machine, Silas the weapon, and he can’t even hold a fuckin’ pen. He can’t write his own fuckin’ name. He can’t fuckin’ read, even, not anymore.

“I’m too fuckin’ stupid,” he spits.

Wren looks up quickly. “Silas,” he chastises. “You are not stupid.”

Silas grunts and cracks his other palm against the side of his head. He drives the heel of his hand against the layers of bandages, against the spot where his skull had been crushed most significantly, pieces of bone picked from his brain to be puzzled back together. The pain makes him nauseous, but it distracts him, for a second, from that writhing helplessness under his skin that makes him want to rip his hair out by the handful.

“Hey!” Wren snaps at him.

Silas is going to crack his own skull again but Wren is quick. Wren’s a lot quicker than Silas. He pushes himself to his feet and catches Silas’ hand before he can do any more damage to the side of his head.

And Silas —

In the same way his hands shake, his brain now fires wrong. His temper is unrestrained, and it fires up and out of control quicker than it ever has, too quick for him to stop it. He doesn’t mean to snarl at Wren, at patient, kind Wren, who’s sitting on the floor of his room trying to teach Silas how to write his own name, but he just wants to hit his head so he doesn’t have to feel this fuckin’ stupid anymore and —

And he snarls at Wren, pulling his hand free, but Wren is just as quick to grab it again and he leans in closer to Silas, unintimidated. “Stop it,” he says.

Belatedly, Silas thinks it might be one of the things he likes best about Wren. He’s Silas’ opposite in a lot of ways, in almost every way, this silvery, holy thing to Silas’ red misted violence. He’s the smallest in the unit, the most breakable, the most helpless. And he’s never been afraid of Silas, not once.

Not when he was first dragged into the unit, scared and confused, after weeks of introductory surgeries and mutilation. He didn’t know exactly what he was, but he knew he was some kind of monster. He could see it in the way the soldiers, the surgeons had looked at him. He could see it in the distance between them, in how far below he had to look at them. He could see it in the unit, the way those people, not human, either, but super soldiers, had each flinched away from him the first time they had bared witness to his horror.

Except Wren. Wren has never been afraid of him.

Generally kind, soft spoken Wren is the only one of them that isn’t afraid to stand up to him. To raise his voice at him. To tell him no.

Silas bares his teeth and Wren raises his eyebrows. “Stop it.” He pulls his hand free again and Wren catches him quickly around the wrist. “Silas.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Silas seethes through his teeth.

Wren snorts and tips Silas’ face up by his chin. He’s taller than Silas like this. He blows air really hard into his face.

It’s so far from anything Silas was expecting to happen that he recoils, startled. “What —“ he starts, but Wren just does it again. His breath always smells like something Hal calls bubblemint, and it isn’t unpleasant but it’s absolutely weird.

Silas blinks up at him. “What?” He repeats.

Wren raises an eyebrow. “Are you done?”

“What?” Silas says. His hand still shakes in Wren’s grasp but his hands might always shake. The heat had subsided, his temper fleeing, apparently, from Wren’s cool, sweet breath.

“Hands in your lap,” he tells him.

“I —“

“Hands in your lap,” Wren repeats, releasing Silas’ wrist.

Obediently, Silas lowers his hands into his lap.

Gently, Wren angles his head, and the touch of his fingertips is featherlight as he inspects the side of Silas’ skull for any severe damage.

“I’m sorry,” Silas says finally.

“Good,” Wren agrees, which isn’t the answer Silas wanted or expected.

He frowns. His hands twitch in his lap, unrelated to the tremors. He rubs his chest with one hand, trying to quell it, and Wren says, stern, “still.”

Silas drops his hand back into his lap. “I’m sorry,” he says again.

Wren clicks his tongue. The side of Silas’ head starts to sting as he dabs at it with isopropyl alcohol.

“I’m trying, Wren,” Silas tells him softly. “I’m sorry.”

“Silas,” Wren says, almost flat. “Do you remember when your skull was crushed?”

“No,” Silas says, because he doesn’t. His skull was crushed. He doesn’t remember a lot before the incident or a long time after, as a matter of fact.

“I know,” Wren agrees. “I do.”

Silas stops. He hadn’t, for a second, considered that. Maybe he just doesn’t have the disposable brainpower for critical thinking anymore, but he hadn’t ever stopped to consider that, yeah, of course Wren would remember. He didn’t have the fortune of having that memory wiped with a brain injury. “Oh,” he says.

“Mm,” Wren agrees.

“Sorry,” he says.

Wren snorts, but his voice is kind of distant, a little less prickly when he says, “it was bad, Silas, and they told us you had died. They didn’t think they were going to be able to fix you.”

He frowns again. “I wouldn’t die, Wren,” he says, “not while you’re still here. I wouldn’t leave you.”

“No?” Wren asks, and the thorns are back in his voice. “You’re not going to try to crush your own skull in front of me because you’re frustrated?”

It chastises Silas so thoroughly that he thinks he actually might blush. It also makes him feel even more stupid, but this time he doesn’t fight it. He’s earned it. “I’m sorry,” he says softly.

“Good,” Wren says again. He gently smooths his hand across the side of Silas’ head, sealing his bandages, before he tips Silas’ face up again so he can look at him properly. “Knock it off.”

Silas turns his face to press his cheek into Wren’s palm. “I’m sorry,” he tells him softly.

Sighing softly, Wren thumbs over his cheek.

“But you don’t have to worry about me, Wren,” he continues, just as soft. “I won’t die. I’ll crawl out of the ground if I have to and I’ll find my way back here to you. I’d never leave you,” he murmurs, and he knows it’s true, he’d thought it to himself a million times, but it almost knocks the wind out of him as he says it, how much he means it.

Sometimes, at his worst, Silas doesn’t think there’s anything human left in him. He doesn’t think he’s capable of anything more than violence. He doesn’t think himself capable of feeling.

Wren makes him feel, and everything Wren makes him feel is human. It’s kind of warm, the way he feels now, head in Wren’s hand, but he also feels like he might drown it. He doesn’t think he’d mind.

“There is nothing in the world this place could do to me that would keep me from you,” Silas says, and he doesn’t think he’s ever meant anything more. “Ever. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Slowly, Wren shakes his head. “I worry about you every day.”

Silas turns his head again to kiss his palm. “You don’t need to.”

He leans down to kiss his hairline in turn. “Stop giving me reason to.”

Silas hums softly, pleased. “I’ll be good.”

Wren laughs quietly. He kisses Silas’ hair again before he pulls away, settling onto the floor across from him again, settled next to Wren’s bed. He holds another pen out to Silas, this one unbroken. “Good,” he agrees. “Then let’s try again.”

[femmesandhoney]

There’s a trailer on Netflix for something called ‘Uglies’. I haven’t read the book but from what I can gather when someone turns sixteen they get plastic surgery to be perfect or something. Since the main character is very obviously pretty I’m assuming the whole thing is about going against beauty standards with your standard YA dystopia twist.

But I have a bit of a problem with one of its stars. In one scene Laverne Cox via hologram is telling them they’ll have surgery when they’re sixteen. I think it’s terribly funny that a trans woman is telling a crowd of young people about the wonders of plastic surgery… and going by YA tropes will be one of the villains. All in all I think this movie that probably has good intentions will be wildly problematic.

tbh i cannot comment much bc i couldn't get thru the first like chapter of the book bc of how hard the book forced an insta romance in like two pages i had to return it to the library it was nauseatingly in your face bad. but i had friends who read all the books and liked it, so i don't know if it will be seen as problematic? the books seemed to have done a fine job at whatever goal the author had bc people enjoyed the books alright even years after release.

[adiduck]

👀 👀 👀?

...so I said I'd promise three sentences. I didn't say I WOULDN'T write more than three sentences, just that only three sentences are promised--

Anyway. A bit further down in the scene I just posted.

-

Ice rolled his eyes, but he did hand Maverick the remote, so Maverick decided not to let it slide. He fumbled the remote until he could prop it up and get to it with his splinted fingers, turned on Ice’s old—if flat screen—tv, and pulled up the channel guide. “It’s so fucking annoying that you can’t have a Smart TV,” he grumbled, flipping through the channels looking for HBO.

Ice shrugged. “Don’t—watch—much TV.”

“Yeah, but it’s the principle,” Maverick said. “You pay for all this shit and you can’t even use it.”

Ice grumbled, shifting a little bit so that Maverick settled a bit more firmly against Ice’s shoulder. Maverick paused as he finally made it to Showtime, scrolling through the available options critically. “Well, there’s an old action movie,” he said. “This is the one with the spy who keeps getting hunted by his own agency or something, right?”

“Yeah,” Ice rasped. “The one that—looks like you. But—more—plastic surgery.”

Maverick squinted at the television. On screen, the main spy guy was pulling on some sort of glove with glowing lights on the back. “I don’t really see it,” he admitted.

Ice patted his hand. Together, they watched the spy climb out the window and proceed to scale the building with the power of the light up gloves.

“Hey, that’s cool, though,” Maverick said.

“Sh,” Ice said, from where he was still pressed all along Maverick’s side. “Movie.”

“I’m not sure why you keep trying to shut me up during movies,” Maverick said, as one of the spy’s fancy gloves very predictably stopped working. “We’ve known each other for over thirty years. You’d think you’d be resigned by now.”

“Mav,” Ice said, and jostled him a bit—a spike of pain when through Maverick’s whole shoulder.

“Ow,” Maverick said. “Asshole. I’m healing from a fractured spine—”

“Sh,” Ice said again.

Maverick grinned, but did shut up—just in time to watch spy guy shatter the window and go catapulting into the room just as the second glove died.

They fell asleep like that—leaning against each other on the couch, Maverick mostly stretched out and squashing Ice into a corner, watching Mr. spy-who-looked-like-Maverick-with-plastic-surgery make questionable decisions to save the world.

[lookismfanfics]

Idk if your requests are open but if so honestly I'm dying for any sort of Sinu and/or Vasco content you'd be willing to give

𝐃𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬

Notes: I might have slipped fem-coded or fem pronouns into this. Sorry! Self conscious themes. Also, it’s just a little drabble :,)

Sinu x Reader

Genre: Fluff

“I don’t have dimples!” Sinu complains, poking the sides of his cheek roughly. He preens in the mirror for a bit, plucking at the side of his mouth with a frown. His hands brush stray strands of hair out of his eye every couple seconds.

You lounge on the sofa nearby, eyes glued to your phone. His grumbling rings in the back of your ears, and you shake your head.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” You ask. Sinu turns from the mirror, making a show of dramatically slouching towards you and flopping on the sofa. He pouts his lips and nuzzles into your stomach.

“Dimples are really in nowadays. Y’know… with those young kids and stuff-!” His voice is muffled in your shirt and tinted with some unfamiliar accent.

You resist rolling your eyes for the time being. Stroking his freshly-washed hair, you lean to press a kiss on his head. You sigh, “You kinda are a young kid, Sinu. You’re like— eighteen? Nineteen?”

He lets out a strangled groan and looks up at you. His dark eye sparkles. You catch sight of the goofy smile that spreads across his face. “Nah. I’m getting old.”

You roll your eyes and return your gaze to your phone. Sinu buries his face into your stomach once again. You stay that way for a while.

He scrolls on Newtube himself, eyes scouring the screen filled with attractive people. A diverse collection of strangers and videos wind up on his jumbled feed. That doesn’t matter though. He watches the things with the highest views. The videos everyone is fawning over. (He gets distracted by a couple cute dog videos which he sends to you. But anyway-)

Dimples. He sees a lot of them. The comments that flash on his screen ringing words of “he’s so hot” and “she’s gorgeous” only solidify his argument.

He should get dimples. Probably. You’re bound to love him.

Actually, Sinu isn’t self-conscious by default. He’s been told he’s good looking. He thanks the people showering him with compliments and winks. Ever since he lost his eye, though, he senses his handsomeness meter has depleted. He needs some redeeming trait. Something that calls attention away from his eye… just a little. Of course you’ve never even hinted that you find him imperfections unattractive. Sinu’s just… not the best at reading the room sometimes.

“That’s freaking expensive!” Sinu hollers, staring down at his phone in horror. A plastic surgery add flashes on the screen. Dimple surgery. He blinks in awe.

“What’s ‘freaking expensive’?” You ask, crawling onto the couch beside your boyfriend. Sinu hides his phone screen from you. He aggressively wraps his arm around your shoulders as a distraction. You don’t buy it.

“Ah… just stuff,” Sinu sighs. “I didn’t know you were here.”

His attempts to dance around the subject began to tire you out. You cupped his face and stroked your thumb across his cheeks. “C’mon Sinu. What is it?

He turns his phone screen towards you and flashes a sheepish grin. “Dimple surgery…?”

You stare at his screen for a while before signing. You lay down on his chest and wrap your arms under his. He places a hand against the small of your back.

“You know Sinu I don’t think you need it.”

You look up at him genuinely. His reply is only a soft smile. You close your eyes. The thought of Sinu changing at all is… bizarre— and anyways, you thought his smile was attractive enough on its own.

“You’ve never been trendy anyways…” you mumble.

Sinu laughs. “Cuz I’m a trendsetter.”

“Oh god…”

Needless to say… he didn’t really care for getting dimples anymore.

[monkayemporor]

“I didn’t want this!”

Synopsis: fem!Lorenzo (aka possum) and her parent 😱😱😱

Cw: Talks of plastic surgery + reader doesn’t like Lorenzo (at first)

Featuring: Fem!Lorenzo and Gn!Reader

Wc: 660

NOTES: I SWEAR IM WORKING ON EVERYTHING ELSE (lie)

“I’m gonna get plastic surgery.”

“Excuse me?”

Looking up from your phone, you were faced with Donna Lorenzo. And her usual shit-eating grin. Under normal circumstances, you would’ve indulged her, but this wasn’t a normal situation. Considering how she wasn’t even supposed to be here.

A few weeks ago, your friend Snuffy had dropped off some kid at your doorstep, explaining how she wanted you to take care of her. Of course, you had vehemently refused. And could anyone blame you? This girl looked like…well something. A freak would be the proper term. 

Rotten teeth, terrible hygiene, and her overall eccentric personality. You were so sure that you wouldn’t be able to deal with her. And what was Snuffy’s excuse? That her job as a pro would keep her too busy. 

“Can’t you just…I don’t know…buy her an apartment or something? You have a shitload of money!”, you had pleaded, but Snuffy had explained she didn’t want to leave Lorenzo alone. 

Sure, you could’ve refused. And if it had been anyone else, you would’ve. But this was Snuffy, your dearest friend. So, against your better judgment, you took Donna Lorenzo in. 

Living with her though, was certainly an…experience. From following you around your place, messing with your stuff, barking like a dog, and mooning over the weirdest boys on your computer. 

“Isn’t he just the best?”, she asked, an image of some gothic-looking boy open on the screen. 

Sipping on your coffee, your nose wrinkled, “Ew. No. Just no.”

Just what was wrong with her?

And now you were here, with Lorenzo proclaiming that she was going to get plastic surgery. 

“So, you want bigger boobs? I thought those were like bad for football or something.”, you said, clearly confused. Lorenzo shook her head and sat next to you, a bit too close for comfort though. 

“Nah, I just wanna get rid of something.”

Vague. You momentarily wondered if you should push for more info. But why bother? She was old enough to get one and it wasn’t like you were the one paying for it.

But…

What would Snuffy say? She would probably want you to ask. Sighing, you placed your phone on the table and looked Lorenzo in the eye.

“Just what exactly do you want to get rid of?”

Silence suddenly filled the space and you noticed the defender avoiding your gaze. Odd.

“Well…”, you trail off, trying to find the right words to say as the teen girl perks up. “You’re not that bad looking. So I don’t see why you need to get plastic surgery.”

Lame. That was the best you could do? Screw it. You never wanted kids in the first place.

Instead of Lorenzo mocking you though, she simply laughed, showing off the golden grills you very much hated. “I’m not sayin' that it was terrible, but it was!”

In defeat, you slumped on the couch. Screw Snuffy. But just as you were about to leave the room, Lorenzo suddenly spoke up.

“Still…thanks…”

Well, now this was awkward. What were you supposed to say? No problem? Nahhh. 

“You’re cute looking—like a possum!”, you suddenly blurted out. Why were you doing this?! Just why?! The younger girl tilted her head, “Possum? Ya, mean those ugly rat things?”

“They are not ugly!”

“Are too. And that means you're calling me ugly!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!”

Arguing with Donna Lorenzo turned out to be quite tiring. And at the end, you were laying on the couch, side-eyeing her, “Look. Just, don’t do it. You’re perfectly fine. And you may be kinda gross, you’re not that gross to need plastic surgery.”

It was quiet for a couple of minutes, you staring up at Lorenzo as she stared right back. Her shit-eating grin was visible, “Dah, fine~”

“Oh.” You weren’t expecting her to listen. Now what? Do you just leave? Or…

“Am I still a possum though?”, Lorenzo asked.

“Definitely yes.”

“You’re weird.”

“Look who’s talking.”