#ill be fine after this month i just need to catch up

[derkattun]

i think i need help

im behind so much and if i want to stay above the red im gonna be working this month with absolutely no days off, which ive already been doing to the point of burnout. i just need enough to get myself through the month, while still working myself. ill update my goal with both what im making myself and with whatever anyones able to send in. please, im busting my ass for what feels like pennies atp

300/2000

further goal updates will be in the replies

ca / corvysmores

vn / chaotic-corvid

dm for pa

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

[reidrum]

if you keep asking | s.r

pairing: spencer reid x fem!bau!reader

a/n: this was requested with “if you keep asking me i’m not gonna be okay” or smth along the lines 😭 i am a glutton for hurt/comfort fics so if yall have any more requests send em in :)

summary: in which you’re trying to keep it together when you hear some detectives talking ill of you, and spencer isn’t gonna have it

cw: hurt/comfort, self deprecation, insecure!reader, bitch ass detectives, protective bau my heart, use of she/her pronouns

wc: 2.2k

_______

the bau team was filing into the bullpen after landing from their last case in seattle, everyone making a beeline for their desks to get a head start on their reports so they could go home faster. everyone, except you. it felt like you were on autopilot, remembering your last known movements and just repeating them for as long as you could.

the case in seattle was rough to say the least. the unsub’s mo seemed to change every minute, making any progress the team made obsolete. the only thing that seemed to be somewhat consistent was where the unsub was taking his victims, which meant the geographical profile was the most important part to solving the case, a task you and reid were assigned to.

it started off fine, you both had found the comfort zone of where the unsub would strike next to figure out how to catch him in the act. except the next time he struck it was completely out of the predicted range, and this time a kid had died. no one could have anticipated that happening. it didn’t make the loss hurt any less.

the team knew it wasn’t anyone’s fault, humans are unpredictable, and that includes serial killers. spencer made sure to tell you specifically that it wasn’t your fault, he knew how you’d get if someone didn’t tell you.

his efforts went to utter waste when you walked by a room at the precinct with detectives whispering about how “you fucked up the whole profile, that’s why that kid died” and “it’s clear you make the team stupider, how did you even get into the fbi in the first place?”

it wasn’t the first time your abilities were in question. you were the newest member of the team, having only transferred six months ago from cold cases. you may be new to the field, but there was a reason hotch chose you personally for the bau.

you tried hard to prove yourself, despite pretty much everyone saying your skillset was enough proof. you’d stay late to finish reports, do extra research on cases to help garcia narrow her searches faster, and you spent countless hours at the training range.

you were a worthy agent, anyone who knew you or read your resume knew that. but right now, you felt like the smallest person on earth, an imposter. what the hell were you even doing here if you couldn’t save him.

you shouldn’t be allowed to feel relief that the team caught the unsub, not when there’s blood on your hands.

the bad thoughts swirling in your head causes you to stall your motions when you’re putting files away, gaining the attention of morgan, “you alright, sweet cheeks?”

“i’m good morgan, don’t worry.” you lie effortlessly. if he can tell you’re lying, he doesn’t mention it and turns back to his work.

taking a deep breath, you stand up to go to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, when you run into jj finishing up making her own, “i was just thinking about you, i got this new creamer i think you’d rea-, hey, are you okay?” jj starts but ends concerned.

you try to focus on metronomic tick of the clock so you dont escalate, “i’m fine j,” you laugh unconvincingly, “what creamer did you get?”

she ignores your question, “because i know that was a tough case, and if you need to talk about it with someo-“

“jj, drop it, please.”

the blonde’s face drops a little at your sternness, but respects your space and offers you to try the creamer before returning to her desk. you feel bad for snapping at her, but the growing guilt within you is giving you apathy, and you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

you linger in the kitchen so as to avoid any more concerned faces, and you’re left to your own devices that are slowly overtaking you.

unbeknownst to you, spencer had been watching you since you all landed back in quantico. he kept his distance, mostly because he knew how overwhelmed you get at confrontation, especially about your emotions. he was the same way, a man of logic getting befuddled by emotion was enough cognitive dissonance to last a long time.

he knew it was different with you. you had a way of internalizing everything in your surrounding, a downfall to your endless empathy for others even if they never deserve it. he could explain the logic behind your beliefs, and hopefully use facts to help you relax, but that was the other thing he knew about you; you were stubborn. asking for help is something you hated doing, and if it wasn’t on your accord to be asking, it was even more detrimental to your mood.

so when he watched you duck out from the kitchen and push past the glass doors of the bullpen, he knew you were reaching the head of your doom spiral quickly.

spencer got up from his desk, “i’m gonna go check on her.”

jj nodded, “just be mindful spence, something feels different.”

they’d all been on cases that hit a little too close to home, how could they not when all they do is rid the world of the evilest of evildoers. but after a good cry, a rant to a teammate, or even an emergency therapy session, even the worst of the scum could be washed away.

something about the way you’ve been acting since they landed seemed like those fixits aren’t going to work this time.

he let out a sigh in response and walked out of the bullpen, realizing he didn’t actually know which direction you went in. assuming you’d want to be alone, he thinks the bathroom might’ve been a viable option for you and heads towards it.

the nice thing about the seventh floor is that it’s only for the bau, the bullpen was where the team spent most of their time but outside the doors there were so many empty rooms being used for storage.

so as spencer walked towards the bathroom in the hopes of finding you, his ears pick up on a tiny sniffle a little ways before it. he stops in his tracks, hoping he was just hearing things. but another pained sob rang through the door on his left, and he knew he’d found you.

he rapps the door a few times, softly calling your name, “hey, it’s spencer…can i come in please?”

you were on the other side sitting at one of the abandoned desks with your head down, but shot up at hearing spencer’s voice, “i- i’m fine i just needed a minute. i’ll be back in like two minutes, i promise.” you angrily wipe at the tears pooling on your face, grateful that you took your makeup off in the plane.

“honey, that’s not what i asked,” he starts, “is it okay if i come in?

your heart clenches at the term of endearment as you stare at the door knowing he was waiting for your okay to come in, and you start to internally weigh your options. you could let him in, and let him in to do whatever comforting you know logically would help. or you could lie, and feign ignorance to the end.

don’t they say ignorance is bliss?

you make sure to wipe the last of your tears and your runny nose before practicing a few fake smiles so it didn’t look like your face was frozen in sadness for the last thirty minutes. turning the knob you swing the door open, borderline creepy smile on your face as you greet the man, “hi dr. reid! was there something you were looking for?”

he furrows his brows at your complete (fake) shift in mood, but he comes in and shuts the door behind him, and moves to stand a few feet from you, “what’s going on?”

“nothing spence, i’m fine.” you insist.

spencer thinks if you could be more see through you’d be a windexed window. you’re avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the skin of your thumb, he can see your nose is red most likely from all the tissue blowing, and your eyes are still puffy and lined with some unshed tears still. you are so clearly breaking at the seams, like an old childhood teddy bear with stuffing falling out the sides yet hoping you can offer some semblance of stability despite your state.

“you don’t look fine, honey. why won’t you tell me what’s bothering you?”

his words almost make you falter, and you think the walls you built so high are starting to chip down. “it’s not a big deal spence, i-,” a hiccuped breath gives you away, “i can deal with it on my own.”

spencer instinctively shortens the gap between you two, “you shouldn’t have to. i just wanna help you.”

“but i’m oka-“

“no you’re not.”

there is only one tiny thin thread left holding you together. “well,” you take a deep inhale and your voice gets impossibly small, “if you keep saying things like to me i’m not gonna be okay.”

“that’s why i’m here.” he says softly.

you look up at him with the biggest glassy doe eyed look he’s ever seen, and it’s like spencer can hear the snap of the thread in real time when he watches your face absolutely crumble. he doesn’t hesitate to pull you into his embrace, allowing him to hold your head down in the middle of his chest while his other hand smooths up and down your back in comfort.

“i know, shh, hey it’s okay, i got you.” he comforts.

your hands wrap around his waist beneath his suit jacket and you keep your face buried in his chest, inhaling the musky vanilla scent of his cologne mixed with the fresh laundry detergent smell letting it ground you back to him.

“i’m sorry.” you cry.

“don’t say that,” he hushes, “is it about the case?” you nod in his embrace, “we talked about it remember? there was nothing we could have done. we did everything right, sometimes it just doesn’t work out, you know that.” he moves his hand to tangle in your hair and rub your head.

“i- i know,” you say through labored breaths. you take a big breath before admitting the true reason for your anguish, “when we were about to leave, i walked by a room with some detectives talking about how i ruined the case and that…i’m the reason the kid died.”

“what?” he pulls back to look you in the eyes hoping to find any indication that you didn’t believe those poisoned words, “we both worked on that geographical profile together, the whole team agreed it was accurate and acted accordingly. what happened was not your fault. at all.” he emphasizes the last two words.

“yeah but…i don’t know maybe i could ha-“

“stop. you can’t do that to yourself. we did what we could with what we had, the burden of that child’s passing does not fall on you. we were only able to find the unsub’s hiding spot when you figured out he’d been going to the same gas station since the murders started.” he reinforced to you.

“they said that they didn’t know how i even got into the academy in the first place, and that i make the team stupider.” you quietly added.

spencer felt the rage consume his body, already planning the ways he was going to obliterate seattle pd. he cradled your head to look at him in the eyes, “listen to me. you are an important asset to this team. you make this team better at what they do, you make me better at what i do. you mean so much to me and the team okay? please don’t forget that.”

he swipes at a fallen tear on your cheek as you tell him between sniffles, “thanks spence…” you hope he understands the sentiment and love you’re trying to exude to him, even thought you’re unable to vocalize it.

“you gotta tell me if something like that happens,” he softly scolds you, “i’ll make sure they lose their fucking jobs.”

you’re about to speak when he cuts you off, “and don’t tell me that we should be the bigger people, because once the rest of the team hears about this, they’re all gonna be fighting over who’s gonna kick the shit out of them.”

you let out a tearful giggle, “you sound really funny when you curse.”

he scoffs, “what the hell, i do not!”

“you sound like a baby duckling that just learned how to say fuck.”

he starts to guide you out of the room and towards hotch’s office so you can recount what happened, “ouch, i’m hurt. i’d like to think the pistol and fbi badge i carry makes me intimidating.”

you giggle again, and spencer puts aside his rage to revel in the fact that you’re feeling better.

when hotch learned of what happened he immediately called seattle pd to file a motion to get those detectives fired, and the rest of the team were secretly praying for a case in seattle again so they could, as spencer predicted, kick the shit out of them.

[miley1442111]

weird facts- s.reid

a/n: intended for fem reader, but imagine what you like:)))))))))

summary: you finally meet spencer's friends after a very long time, it's just... they don't know about you

pairing: spencer reid x reader

warnings: general cm topics, talk of murder, kissing, suggestive

Spencer felt ill. You weren’t picking up any of his calls, weren’t answering any of his texts, and you hadn’t been seen for a whole 24 hours. According to your friend who was staying over at your house last night, you had gotten a call from work and it meant you had to travel, but it was meant to be within the country, so why weren’t you answering?

“Pretty boy?” Derek called from across the bullpen. “We’ve got a case.”

Spencer quickly followed Derek into the conference room, even if his mind was elsewhere. It sadly, was a mass-murder scheme that they only had a few hours to figure out. 

“Oh yes,” Hotch said under his breath. “We have some help, these are Agents Riley, O’Callahan, and Dr. Y/l/n. They all work with unsubs like these everyday and the doctor here has a lot of background from her time overseas. Please use their help and expertise,” he stated before getting up and ending the meeting. The office was buzzing with movement, but Spencer was too awe-stuck to see you in front of him to move, or really notice the rest of the world around him. It had been 5 months since you’d seen each other in person. Both of your jobs made it practically impossible to see each other more than a few times a year but neither of you minded, you loved each other. 

“Earth to Spencer Reid!” Derek shouted at him and finally broke him out of his trance. 

“Yes?!” He startled, ripping his eyes from your figure immediately. 

“Can we focus on the case please? Not the pretty doctor,” Derek shot you a wink and you rolled your eyes, still unaware of Spencer’s being there because of your engrossment in your files. 

“Yes, fine!” He hissed, beginning the geological profile. 

“Spencer?” You ask, shocked at his being there. 

“Hey honey-” He smiled sheepishly as you wrapped your arms around him in a comforting embrace. The rest of your team and his all looked on, deeply confused. Spencer placed a soft kiss onto your cheek as you smiled. Spencer was over the moon, you were here. You were in his arms. 

“You two know each other?” Agent Riley said with a smirk on his face. “Is that the boyfriend?”

You pulled away despite wanting to hold on longer. You picked back up your casefiles with a contented smile. “Shut up Riley.”

Spencer’s face was red as Morgan, Prentiss, Jj, and Rossi all looked at him in shock. 

“My man,” Derek smirked, giving him a less than soft slap on the back. “Congratulations, how new is it?”

“It’s been 4 years, 77 days, 5 hours and,” He took a split-second to look at his watch. “And 47 minutes.”

Everyone’s jaws dropped more. 

“You’ve been dating him for 4 years?” Agent O’Callahan practically shouted. “We only heard about him for the first time last week!”

“Can’t anyone have privacy anymore,” You muttered, diving into yet another casefile. 

“I have to ask you everything about this-” Derek turned to you but you cut him off. 

“No, you have to build your profile,” You reminded him. “Ask me everything when we catch these fuckers.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sat in the crowded bar, Derek on your right and Spencer on your left, his hand holding your thigh under the table.

“So, he tells you all the weird facts he tells us too, right?” Derek laughed, entertained by your relationship. 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “But I enjoy ‘weird’ facts.”

Derek nodded his head. “You two are seriously perfect for each other,” he smiled. You could feel Spencer squeezing your thigh, his hands getting sweater by the second. 

“He definitely spits out random facts during sex,” Derek said to the blonde woman next to him and Spencer awkwardly cleared his throat, knowing his own tendencies to not shut up, even in the bedroom. You laughed along with them, not actually giving them an answer. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

You walked home with Spencer’s hand in yours. You had successfully caught the unsubs, you had stopped the attack, and now you had time to spend with your brilliant boyfriend. 

“Your friends care about you a lot,” you said as you walked down the dark street. Spencer chuckled.

“They like you a lot,” he admitted. “Probably more than they like me.”

“Spencer, Derek looks at you like you’re his little brother, stop it. They’re just happy that you’re happy,” you smiled. “You are happy, right?” You asked, standing outside his apartment block. 

Spencer chuckled at your question, like he could be anything else. You were the kindest, smartest, and most incredible person he’d ever met. You cared and loved him so deeply. You were his everything.

“I’m more than happy,” he smiled before pressing a kiss to your lips.. His glasses slightly hit off your nose but neither of you minded, his hands began to explore as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, pulling him upstairs his apartment block, ready for another night of ‘weird facts’. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, marvel, top gun, obx+)

[chocum]

yea tattoo artist choso but .. what abt tattoo artist geto

congrats on 1k btw!

eee thank youuuu 🙈🙈 i’m souuurrr happy you requested geto bc i’ve been wanting to write abt other characters. AND THISS got out of hand lollll ( 1.5k ) idk what came over me i just word vomited all over my phone… & it’s unedited

— tattooartist!geto x reader // mentions of smoking, m masterbation, fleshlight, cum eating, kinda pervy geto idk he tells reader to take her shirt off when she doesn’t need to so, nipple play, v in p, mentions of overstim, creampiee

suguru geto is one of the most, if not the most popular tattoo artists in your area— hell, probably even farther than that. just to book an appointment, there’s a waitlist not including the months and months he’s already booked for. so when you finally get that confirmation email after waiting for what felt like years, you physically jump up, rushing to get ready and go to the parlor

“i don’t have anyone today under that name, sorry”

suguru pushes a strand of silk black hair behind his pierced ears, the dragon tattoo on his hand moving as he does so almost like it’s taunting you.

“what? i got an email today i just-” your hand reaches into your purse slacked over your shoulder to pull out your phone and prove your appointment was today, but when you go back to check, heat spreads across your cheeks faster than ever.

the date said next month

“ya had the right day i’ll give you that” and he’s laughing. not at you but because you’re cute, he thinks. pouting, growing hot from embarrassment. “i’ll tell you what..”

he leans in and you can smell the smoke that lingers on his breath mixing like some sort of love potion with his musky cologne, his pierced eyebrow quirking, browned eyes staring into yours with puffy lips wet from licking, “i can squeeze you in tomorrow. was supposed to have an off day but ill help a pretty girl like you out, how’s that sound?”

and you’ve never nodded faster. smile pulling at your glossed lips, drawing his to get trapped underneath his teeth.

“here i’ll give you my number, i’ll text you the time ‘n stuff later”

with that, you leave his parlor, your number scribbled on the back of some old receipt next to your name and a heart.

geto’s no better than a man. no better. he goes home that night and texts you as soon as he’s tucked into bed.

hey this is suguru btw.

your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and you smile at the notification. it almost felt unreal, someone who felt so unreachable, someone like geto in your phone, texting you first.

hey!

he catches himself smiling at the message too, his mind trailing back to seeing your pretty face when you walked into the parlor. the way you looked around doe-eyed like a little deer in headlights. looked innocent, and he liked that. maybe a little too much, his dick twitching against the fabric of his boxers.

he only talked to you for a few minutes. barely even held a conversation, but god did you look good. can’t blame him for getting like this.

what time is good for you? like i said, im supposed to be off but had no plans so any time is fine.

your thumbs dance across your keyboard as you think of what to say in response. you’re nervous. and if you knew he was jerking his cock, you’d be even more. his hand slowly .. very slowly rubbing his leaky tip, his head full, overflowing and bubbling with thoughts of you. what are you doing right now? are you in bed too? squeezing his warm balls, cupping them, teasing himself, imagining it’s your sweet little hands.

is 6 pm okay?

the little buzz drags him from his thoughts.

yea. see you then, pretty.

the simple little pet name makes you feel like you’re going to explode. so warm all over your body, and you wish you could just time travel to the next day and see him already.

geto brings the palm of his large hand to his face, lolling his tongue out to lick long stripes on it, shivering at the feeling of his own piercing before wrapping around the base of his thick cock, stroking himself only two times. this won’t do.

he reached for the pocket pussy he keeps nested deep in his drawer. leaning over to let spit fall and dribble into the clear toy before rubbing it on his tip.

groaning, “shiiiiittt” his hips bucking up as he slowly lets it sink down— body twitching at the feeling of all the little bumps and ridges massaging his sensitive cock.

“fu- fuck juuuust like that, mhhhm”

imagining he’s inside your tight little walls, squishing him like he’s meant for you, snug and tight like a puzzle piece.

his chest heaved with every snap of his wrist, spit sinking out and ringing out the base of his cock leaking down to his heavy balls, “feel so fucking good baby”

so fast he’s already shooting into the toy, whining because it’s not you. wishing it was you, your warm walls probably feel so much better. probably sound so cute taking him from behind or from the front, your eyes locked onto his.

he came so much it’s leaking all over himself. so messy and dirty and he brings the toy up and licks it all out, shoving his tongue inside the rubbery walls to flick and clean it up.

“shit”

the next day came too slowly. to you but especially to suguru. he went to the parlor an hour earlier to open and tidy up, pulling his raven locs into a ponytail, letting a few stray strands fall and frame his face, counting each and every second.

and then he hears it. the little ding as the door opens, you push it open smiling up at him as you walk through and you look even better than he remembered. and he’s trying so hard to keep his composure.

he nods at you, giving you a small smile, “so what did you want to get, and where?”

at your reply he freezes, his hands almost crumbling up the paperwork he reached for you to fill out — “my chest”

“your chest?”

he parrots you. then he repeats it in his head a few more times. picturing you pull your little top up.

he can tell you’re not wearing a bra with how your nipples perk up and poke through the flimsy, almost see-through fabric.

you nod your head, mhm sounding and bubbling past your lips.

god, you’re going to be the death of him.

after you finish with all the paperwork, he pulls you into the back making small talk asking about your day. and you indulge, asking back, finding comfort in the normality of your conversation. he’s different from what people painted him out to be and you felt relaxed in his presence.

even more when he offers you a seat, cleaning it off before slipping on some black gloves. his hands almost bulge out, his knuckles poking through the latex.

“can i see the design?”

you pull up the picture on your phone and he hums, “and you said your chest, right?”

again he repeats it, almost as if it’s a mantra he’s using to calm his nerves. calm his dick.

you just nod, “do i need to take my shirt off?”

and well no you don’t, not yet at least, but he says yes, reaching forward to do it for you because he’s just so sweet, right? so nice and caring, and welcoming.

and he only wraps his lips around your tits to soothe you, right? sucking, letting his teeth sink into the buds, the silver ball tracing over them. his other glove-clad hand cupping them.

sinks his cock into you just cause he wants to take care of you, right? he could tell you wanted it soo bad. your thighs pressing together so tightly when he pressed his lips against your chest with a soft, “suguru please”

“mhm let me take care of you, pretty girl, spread em, hold yourself open f’me— uh huh, juuust like that.”

your little arms shake and tremble, hooking around the back of your knees as he pushes into your tight cunt. and fuck, he was right. feels so much better than his toy.

“fuuuckk found your spot, baby, ‘s right there? yeah feel good right there?” he rolls his hips up, brushing against that spot, his thick tip kissing it, making your body twitch.

“yes— fuck yes feels so good”

right about you sounding so fucking good too— his cock twitching inside the solitude of your pretty slimy walls. shivering at how you suck and milk him so well, so tight and warm. so fucking warm. feels so good he’s already close, but he wants to keep making you feel good, keep hearing you, and if he was to fuck his cum into you, overstimulating his needy cock to do that, then so be it.

“inside” you whine out at how he twitches, his stokes sputtering and faltering as he languidly pushing into your sopping pussy, leaking all over him, so wet.

“ohh — fuck ohfuck” and it pushes him over the edge, bottoming out to overfill you, make you nice and creamy ‘cause you deserve it. deserve it for being so good, making him feel so good.

letting his head fall onto your shoulder sweat sprinkling his forehead as he empties himself for you. for your pretty pussy, all for you.

[highvern]

YUCK

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x f!reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive moments

warnings: mentions of illness/body fluids (snot, vomit), avoidant attachment from reader, Hoshi best boy

Length: ~2.9k

Note: more of this couples bc im crazy thank u @gyuswhore

series m.list: Houdini [s], Green Light [s, f], Talk [a, s, f], Casual [a, s, f], Mine [s], espresso [f, s]

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

Two and a half months of hooking up with a guy who may or may not be a furry and things start feeling…comfortable. 

You’ll pretend until the day you die that every time the weekend rolls around you won’t end up naked in Soonyoung’s bed. Or your own. Usually it is your own because he has more roommates than you and yours leaves to stay at her boyfriend’s until Monday night which means there is no need to keep quiet (which you and Soonyoung both struggle with but you refuse to acknowledge that fact). 

It allows for many nights bent over the kitchen counter, Soonyoung’s chest hot against the back of your thighs as he works you up with his mouth. Or occasional nights on the couch after you both are too into each other to make it upstairs to your room, planted firmly in his lap while pinning his hands to the cushions. There's also the nights he drags you straight to bed and demonstrates exactly what all the pictures you took while tucked away in the privacy of a gross bar bathroom did to him. 

You’re pretty sure Soonyoung has picked up on your game by now because instead of asking ‘if’ he’s taken to asking ‘when’ he can come over. And it's annoying that it doesn’t really annoy you at all.

Soonyoung comes over on Friday nights and leaves Saturday afternoon, except when he shows up on Saturday mornings and stays well into Sunday night. Or the occasional weekend where you remember who you are and show up on his door and leave three hours later with cum still drying on your thigh as you walk past his roommates still pregaming in the living room.

Except now it's Friday and you’ve got nothing on your mind except for the inside of a toilet bowl and the cool tile of the bathroom floor.

Call it food poisoning or maybe the flu, but you’ve been in and out of sleep since the early hours of dawn. Shivering on the floor, the only company you have is a pile of dirty clothes. Even the crack of light under the door is too much stimulation for your illness-racked brain to tolerate.

“Y/N?” your roommate calls from the other side of the darkness, out in the hallway where it's safe from whatever curse is making home in your gut. “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay home? I don’t mind.”

“I’m fine,” you groan. Your words couldn’t convince the deaf but you try anyway. 

She responds but it slips right past because another bout of nausea takes hold.

You manage to fall asleep at some point, clammy on the floor with aching hips. Maybe an hour or maybe ten minutes. It doesn't really make a difference because you still feel like shit when the door opens and the hall light burns through your retinas.

“Hazel, I said I’m— What are you doing here?” you croak from the floor. 

Soonyoung stairs down at you, face soft with something that might be worry but it’s probably just the fever melting your brain. “You look like shit.” 

“You always know just what to say.” The usual snark isn’t there, replaced by a pathetic helpless whine of discomfort because all you want is to curl up and die. “Did you come to insult me or…?”

“Hazel let me know you were sick and usually sick people need medicine and soup so I brought that and this tea my mom used to give me as a kid.” 

“Are you trying to cure me so you can get your dick wet?” 

“No. If I wanted to stick my dick in a Petri dish I feel like there are easier ways to go about it.” He kneels right next to you like he isn’t the slightest bit concerned about catching the plague brewing in your immune system. A cool hand cups your cheek, thumb gentle at your temple where a dull throb has haunted you all day. You lean into the comforting touch without much thought.  “When was the last time you showered?” 

“I don’t know. Like two days ago?” 

“Yeah, I can smell that. Alright my little germ cell, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

His arms snake under yours, dragging you from the floor even with your muscles limp. It takes more maneuvering but you don’t bother helping. If he wants to play not-so-sexy nurse and patient then that's his problem. The warmth of his sweater is welcome though. 

“Is this some weird fetish thing?” Nose buried in Soonyoung’s chest, it comes out in a jumble. “Because I can’t handle this and the furry stuff.” 

“Yes, caring about your health is a fetish for me. Really gets me off knowing you’ve been a good girl and taken your vitamins.” 

“I knew it.” you whisper. “I’m not calling you daddy if that’s what you want.” 

Soonyoung laughs and the movement sends another bolt of pain through your skull. He tuts over your responding whimper and what may be his lips press to the side of your head briefly. It’s warm and comforting, the beat of his heart lulling you into the first satisfying rest since you woke up. Your hands bunching the front of his shirt are desperate for anything to keep you steady. 

Thankfully, he doesn’t release you while setting things up for a shower; accommodating for your weight with a slow shuffle and more placating coos against your hairline every time you protest a sudden jostle. The chill of the bathroom fully sets in when he pushes down your sweats and shucks off your snot stained sweater before tossing away his own. If you weren’t barely functioning it might even be impressive that he’s kept you in his arms the entire time.

“If you’re trying to fuck me, I hope you don’t mind snot.” You blow your nose against the curve of his neck just to be a bitch. 

You feel more naked under the stream of water than you ever have, which is ironic given you’ve had Soonyoung face to crotch more times than you can count. Something about the non-sexual nature of nudeness, feeling the least sexy you ever have while he scrubs you down with gentle hands, turns your stomach more than before.

“I’m not trying to fuck you,” he laughs again; a thousand volts straight to the heart. “Don’t worry.” 

You pop out of hiding, hurt by the idea. “You don’t want to fuck me?” 

Soonyoung’s face is soft, cheeks round and hair already damp to his forehead. He isn’t disgusted by the puke on your breath or the sweat matting your hair. Or if he is, he hides it well. “I always want to fuck you but right now I’m trying to make sure you don’t die.” 

You dive back into his shoulder, mind numb to anything beyond the silky feel of hands washing away days of ick. You’ve felt his hands on almost every part of your body but right now they lack the characteristic urgency from those moments where you can’t get enough of each other quick enough. He’s touching you the way he does in the glow of the moon after you’ve both been satisfied, when Soonyoung thinks you’re asleep and you let him as every curve and dip and hill of your body is covered in gentle strokes like he’s committing you to memory.

“I can do that on my own,” you argue. 

The facts aren’t stacked in your favor right now but it’s the principle: you don’t need him to take care of you. You can handle it on your own. He’s only here because you let him.

“Oh, I know. Now close your eyes so I don’t get soap in them.”

He cups your face, thumbs rubbing away the sweat that's been caked on since morning. Then it’s a rough washcloth doused in the scent of your face wash but you swat it away in favor of the calluses on his fingers. If you weren’t a dead woman walking he’d never get a chance to be this close. 

How is it more terrifying for someone to wipe away your boogers than let him see you naked multiple times a week? A question knotting your stomach into tight pieces as Soonyoung hums some tune you don’t recognize like he’s more than happy to do so.

Your brain stops working after so long; too exhausted from everything to think more about what this all means. Not even the familiar flat press of his front against yours can incite a response beyond content. All the world shrinks into the pitter patter of the water swirling around the drain, and the parts that are warmed by Soonyoung and the parts that are waiting to be.

When you come back to awareness, the waters off and he is whispering something into your clammy forehead.

“Hmmm?” 

“I said, it’s time to get out.”

More shuffling gets you back into your room where the mattress takes your weight while he digs around for fresh clothes. You roll onto your side, clad in a towel and nothing else, resound to fall asleep then and there.

“Alright, arms up,” he commands. 

You try to pull away, diving back into the pillow soaked from your hair but Soonyoung gets you up at the waist, maneuvering stiff limbs patiently.

“Do you have an armpit fetish too?” you ask with the collar stuck around the top of your head. 

“And you call me a freak?”

Next is pants, and it takes a few tries for you to even consider being helpful. Soonyoung lifts each leg individually, working the fabric as far as he can. Then a few dramatic grunts from coordinating your entire body weight but you’re back in a clean pair of pajamas and tucked under the covers. Soonyoung didn’t rise to any more of your snide remarks about being naked. He simply avoiding your bare skin like it’d burn. Not even his favorite thing about you (boobs) gets any attention, just a few chuckles and more kisses into your temple.

You melt into the plush mattress, hidden beneath a pile of blankets from the cruel world that cursed you with new realizations you're not prepared for just yet. 

Eyes closed the entire time, you hear Soonyoung leave without so much as a goodbye. In theory it’s what you want. Exactly how you prefer; you alone, him somewhere you can pretend all the confounding feelings don’t exist. You didn’t even want him to show up in the first place, but now that he’s been here and you’re horrifically aware how nice it feels to have someone take care of you. You miss him. 

And as soon as the pit opens up, you hear someone shuffling down the hall coming towards your room.

“Alright, once you eat something you can sleep.”

The thought of food tightens your stomach more than the fact he didn’t leave you but he’s right. You need fluids and you’re not strong willed enough to get them yourself.

After the first few bites, you feel a little more human and less like a walking sack of shit. With it, the discomfort of this entire ordeal rears with a new vengeance. 

“Why are you here?” It sounds like an accusation.

He doesn’t even miss a beat. “Because I like you.” 

Soonyoung says it matter of factly, the same way the sky is blue and water is wet, while shoving another bite into your mouth.

You’re too exhausted for a fight right now; not with the only person making a real effort to keep you alive, but the instinct is strong after years of low expectations and plenty of disappointment.

“Why?” 

“Because I just do.” 

Your eyes meet over the spoon. He doesn’t look annoyed or perturbed or even angry. He likes you whether you like it or not. 

“I don’t date.” 

“Okay,” he agrees, wiping at the spill dripping from your chin.

“You aren’t gonna argue?” 

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ and your need for confrontation with it. “You don’t wanna date? That’s fine. I’ll take whatever I can get, even if that’s spoon feeding you on your deathbed.” 

You take the next bite before commenting, “You’re so weird.” 

“I like you too. Now open up for the airplane.” He makes the noise and the medicine twists your brain into actually finding it funny. “How are you pretty even when you’re blowing your nose on my shirt?”

“Deal with the devil.”

He passes you a cold cup when you brush away the remainder of the soup. One sip is all it takes.

“How did you know I like the orange Gatorade?”

“I asked Jun to give me June’s number and she gave me Hazel’s number and I asked while I was at the store.”

“You went through all that trouble just to buy me the right Gatorade?” you snort.

“It really wasn’t any trouble.”

It isn’t but it’s more than anyone else has ever done for you. The fresh wave of nausea has nothing to do with your cold.

“I’m tired,” you tell him. 

The mess is cleaned up in silence. You pretend to fall asleep and Soonyoung lets you until he’s shoving more medicine your way. 

You shake your head, failing to refuse because Soonyoung is doing that dumb airplane nose again and when you cough up a laugh he shoves the spoon in your mouth and you’re left with no choice but to swallow.

Then he’s up and you watch through heavy eyes as he gathers his things. You’ll blame it on the drugs loosening the clutch you have on your emotions later.

“Where are you going?” you ask with faux apathy, negated by the fist tangled in the hem of his sweatshirt in case he evaporates away.

“Home. Unless…you want me to stay?” A tug at the sweater is your answer to that horrible thought. “Oh, thank god – I was getting sad.”

You roll over, offering him your back to curl around. The muscles tensed around your spine soften when he does. 

I sleep better when you’re here.

You won’t tell him that but Soonyoung stiffens for a moment and the fear you’ve said the wrong thing creeps in where fatigue hasn’t rooted just yet. But a kiss to your covered shoulder and a hand under your sweater, flat against your stomach so you stay as close as possible calms the thoughts enough you can drift off.

It’s strange. Having the heat of his body at your back without the limpness of a good fuck still coursing through your veins to thaw the parts that hate pillow talk and the stickiness that come with it.

What's even stranger is that you don’t really mind it all. If anything, it’s actually pretty nice.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[starboye]

pairing: drew starkey x male reader

request: can i request a drew starkey smut with size difference, drew being taller and more buff than the reader? could the reader be, like, a popstar and he and drew finally see each other at an award show after months of being apart so they sneak off to the bathroom and drew eats the reader out like it’s his last meal?

warnings: smut, ass eating, cursing, fluff

it had been weeks since you and drew got to see each other, yes you guys face timed every night but that wasnt enough for you or him, you both needed each others bodies, to feel the other more than the need for oxygen itself.

and you finally got what you wanted when you saw drew walk into the building where the award show was being held, you ran into his arms and hugged him tightly "i missed you so much" you say into drews chest "i missed you too but do you really wanna mess up your suit on you big night" drew chuckles "i dont care about the suit drew" you reply with a smile "yeah well id like my boyfriend to look good" he says fixing up you suit a little.

you pull drew in for a quick kiss and pull away as to not bring to much attention to yourself "what no real kiss for me"drew joke playfully pouting "well i wouldnt wanna bring the most attention to us" you say "then why not take this somewhere more private" drew adds grabbing your hand and taking you to the bathroom and locking the door.

"drew whatre you doing" you question suspicious of his motives "this" drew says leaning over to kiss to, his hands sliding down to your waist and his large body frame pressed against yours as you melt into the kiss, drew then pulls out the kiss to catch a breath "wanna.." he hints "we couldnt, i have to be up in like 10 minutes" you huff "which gives me 10 minutes to do some stuff" drew says kissing down your neck.

"no drew i wouldnt wanna mess up my suit, do you know how hard the guy said he had to work to get this perfectly right" you say admiring the stitch work of the suit "well then ill be extra careful not to ruin it" drew smirks before lifting you up onto the bathroom sink and starting to make out with you.

"drewww" you whine "c'mon just give me five minutes and i'll have you back out there looking like nothing even happend" he says sloppily kissing your neck "fine, but if you mess this suit up im gonna kill you" you huff "i promise i wont" drew says removing his blazer and then going to his zipper "nope" you sternly say stopping drews hands "come on just the tip" he tries persuading you.

"you yourself know thats a lie, and youre not getting cum on this" you say "fine" drew complies but an idea pops in his head, he picks you up and pushes you against the bathroom wall before sliding your pants down along with your underwear "drew" you say trying to figure out what he's doing "suck" he orders putting his two fingers in front of your mouth and you obliged while still curious on what hes doing.

he then pulls his slick fingers out of you mouth once theyre wet enough and brings them down to your entrance "drew" you say once more before he slides them into you, he pulls you into a kiss to silence the loud moans you let out as he pumps his thick fingers in and out of your hole "you like that" drew asks in between kisses "yes" you say breathy.

"just a little more" drew says opening you up a little more with his fingers before pulling them out leaving your hole open of his next move, he squats down with his knees not touching the floor as to not ruin the suit, he admires your hole a little, you could feel is breath passing over your ass before shoving his face in, his tongue thrusting in and out of you.

"fuck" you moan covering your mouth as to not be too loud "god you taste so good" drew breathlessly says pulling back for a minute only to go back to eating you out "ah dr-drew" you stammer dropping your head onto the wall "yeah" he says, his focus fully on your ass "please go faster" you beg arching your back slightly "dont have to ask me twice" he smiles eating you out even faster.

he lays small smacks on your ass and gropes it roughly to draw those sweet moans out of you "c'mon baby let me hear the pretty voice of yours" he smirks as his tongue slides into your hole making you let out a pretty loud moan "yeah just like that, think of it as vocal warm ups" drew says "drew m'gonna" you trail off as you take your dick out of your pants and cum on the bathroom wall.

"good boy" drew smiles pulling out of your ass "did you do that just so i could cum" you ask "yeah you looked stressed out about your performance so i wanted to help you calm down" drew smiles standing up and kissing you, your back firmly placed against the wall as drew kisses you deeply "you know i love you right" drew asks "i love you too drew and thanks for the calm down" you chuckle "youre welcome" drew sweetly says kissing you one last time.

"wait but what about you, you didnt get to cum" you ask worriedly "oh dont worry we'll deal with that once the shows over promise" he smirks putting his blazer back on "okay then" you say pulling your pants back up and buttoning them, you and drew both clean the up the mess you made in the bathroom before walking out.

you both make your way to your table with all your friends, drew greets all of them as the award show starts, after the awards are given out the host calls you up to preform your song, as you get up drew grabs you hands and pulls you into a soft and sweet kiss "youre gonna do amazing" drew says before you leave.

as you preformed you kept glancing at drew, giving him seductive looks while biting your lip, and you knew the moment you finished your show drew was gonna drag you to the nearest hotel and fuck you the whole night, but you also knew you were gonna enjoy every second of it, you know you gotta make up for lost time.

[winterbuckwild]

@flowercrowngods So sorry...

"Hey Robin, I think we have been missing each other, been a while. Just wanted to wish you a happy birthday. Hope you are having a great day. Guess ill..er...catch you later."

It had been nearly a year since he'd actually spoken to Robin. She'd gone to college across the country, so excited to finally get away from Hawkins; away from all the drama and trauma and pain, and Steve couldn't fault her for it. She was smart she had a dream and she was following it. And he loved that for her.

The phone calls started at a few times a week. Quick ones because they were both pretty broke, but it quickly became once a week when classes started. Every fortnight during exam season, and then an elaborate game of phone tag for a good three months when his shifts and her classes didn't match up.

Around month 7 he had sort of...given up. It had made him feel like a bit of a stalker in the end, his three phone calls to every one of hers, leaving shorter and shorter messages on her machine. He still wanted to talk to her every day, to tell her about the good things that had started happening to him.

How he'd gone to the library to figure out a sink issue and was too broke for a plumber and found out that he was pretty good with his hands. That he'd enrolled in trade school and was excelling. That he liked someone and he thinks it could be serious.

That the person he liked was a guy and that he was kinda scared and kinda excited and wanted someone to talk to about it. That the guy was Eddie of all people.

He wanted to gush about Eddie the way she used to with Vickie. That his hair was soft and his eyes were soft and his hands when he touched Steve were perfect and kind while his dimpled grin was wicked and promising. That Eddie was brave as fuck making the first move and patient with Steve's minor freak out that he was going through alone.

Eddie had helped him instead.

So it had been three months since Steve had tried calling, and he hadn't had a single message. No calls that he knew about and his machine worked fine. His number hadn't changed. He left the message as closure really, leaving a space in his heart for the friendship that changed him for the better, a friendship that he would always be grateful for. That he would always cherish.

But he couldn't keep waiting around, banging his head against that brick wall. He would always be there if she needed him but, well, she didn't really, did she? Not anymore.

He hung up the phone and grabbed his van keys. He'd traded in the beemer a month ago since he would need the space for tools eventually and it was like shedding that last little part of King Steve. The final nail in that coffin and he felt an odd sense of relief.

He was meeting Eddie before class, they were going to grab some lunch beforehand and then after come back and start packing up the apartment. Steve was moving in with him and he couldn't be more excited about it. He'd told Eddie that and the other man had beamed at him, just as pleased.

He didn't think about not having anyone else to tell.

[to-thelakes]

Reader and Luke not being together yet (even tho theyre both stupidly in love with the other (duh)) and reader falls asleep on Luke in the jet after a rough case!!

statistical anomaly

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; after a case drags you to the jet late at night, you fall asleep on luke's shoulder but not before overhearing him talk about you

warnings; fluff, tired reader, team being absolute chaotic little gremlins, spencer reid (my beloved <3)

notes; i saw this and despite how ill i feel (nothing is new there, literally been dying for six months straight(not actually, just feels that way)), i was kicking my feet and giggling because STOP, i need this and want this in my life. so, i may have written a little drabble hehe, is it edited? no. is there mistakes? probably, i'm tired. but the thoughts of luke alvez never stop so enjoy

(also i made this before a case instead of after bc i just honestly, idk, i just did, so whoops but same vibes)

masterlist

It was late when you were called in for a case. You had just got home, texting Luke that you were home safe (like you always did) when Garcia called. She profusely apologised for calling you in so late but then asked you to come back. You did, without question. It wasn’t Garcia’s fault and there were lives to save; even if you were exhausted. 

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you settled into the jet. You were sat around the table. Luke was next to you and Emily and Reid were sat across from you. You all had the case files out, the laptop with Garcia on it was on the table too. Emily began to run you all through the case, preliminary discussions passing quickly without much of a word from you.

You were exhausted and your brain was lagging behind so you knew it was better to stay quiet for now. Once you were done, everyone slipped away into their own little group. Reid and Emily were discussing the case while you simply closed the case file. Luke glanced down at you.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly. You ran your hand across your face before you nodded your head but you weren’t convincing him or anyone. He gently took a hold of your wrist, resting it against the table, “Do you want a coffee?” He added after a moment. You shook your head.

“I’m fine, really,” You attempted to convince him but he wasn’t. He glanced around before his gaze returned to you, “Talk me through the background,” You requested. Luke looked at you for a moment and he eventually gave in to you. You were giving him the eyes and he couldn’t ever resist that. So, he began to read through the background that Garcia had managed to compile.

You really tried to listen but listening to Luke’s voice was calming you down. You felt the exhaustion seeping back in and you let your head rest against Luke’s arm. He - obviously - didn’t have a problem with it. Any excuse to have you close was good enough for him. He loved holding you, touching you, keeping you close.

“Did you get any of that?” He teased softly, noticing how your eyes had fallen closed. You mumbled something but he didn’t catch any of it. You were clearly exhausted and so he shuffled so that you could rest more comfortably against his shoulder, “I’ll wake you when the flight lands,” He whispered softly into your ear. You hummed happily in response before you let sleep take you.

It was hard for Emily and Reid not to notice. Reid was the first to suspect that there was something going on between the two of you but whenever he brought it up, he was shut down. But the rest of the team were catching on now.

“You know, a friendship, on average, takes 21.9 months to turn romantic,” Reid stated and Luke lifted his gaze up, cocking an eyebrow, “But you’ve been friends for nearly three years, so you’re both a statistical anomaly,” He added. Luke tried his best not to shift but it was clear that he was baffled by Reid’s sudden statistics.

“Reid,” Emily warned. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Reid to talk because she did enjoy hearing him but she didn’t want to make a situation out of this right now. They had other things to worry about.

“Nothing is going on between us,” Luke responded. A scoff escaped Emily’s lips involuntarily and Luke’s head snapped towards her, “I’m letting her sleep,” He defended. Emily tried to distract herself from this conversation by looking at the case file but she was still gonna be nosy.

“You let her touch you more than anyone else on the team. You also regularly watch her while she’s working and you’re much more engaged when she speaks and you’re more likely to defend her when one of us fights against her theories. You might not have something going on but you clearly love her and she loves you,” Reid stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Luke’s eyes widened and he glanced down at you before he looked back at Reid.

“How do you know that?” Luke asked, the emotions warring in his chest as he tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Oh, she told me,” A smile appeared on his face and you bit your lip as you still rested against Luke’s shoulder. You had been asleep for a little bit but Reid and Luke speaking had roused you from the brink. You had been silently listening but Reid noticed you begin to smirk slightly.

“Stop talking about me, please,” You mumbled, your tone thick was exhaustion. Luke’s eyes widened and Reid chuckled softly, “I’m trying to get some sleep.” Luke looked down at you and then back at Reid and he seemed completely dumb-founded. He was at a loss for words. It was cute and that is why you just let yourself settle back down and go back to sleep. You needed it.

<3

[kayewrite]

Maybe this time

genre: exes to lovers (?)! angst with happy ending!! word count: 2.6k

Han Jisung x reader!! han x fem reader

wherein; Two old friends reunite and reminisce about their shared past. As they reconnect, they wonder if time can bridge the gap they left behind. Will their bond pick up where it left off, or will this meeting pave the way for a new chapter? maybe this time…

(i really want to write this before and glad i finally made it i hope you like it!!)

ps: im sorry i dont really make another part in my works because i want to leave it as open ending and let my readers continue the story on their own. but if i have time and decide to make, ill promise ill make one (especially 'want so bad')

but i hope you enjoy reading because i love making this fic. thank youu. love lots :) please love this as much i love it

Life… is beautiful.

Even if it is full of pain, sadness, and hurt.

Even if it is full of tears, there are also moments of happiness, smiles, and gladness.

Life is a roller coaster. It lifts you up, then plunges you down, only to rise again. When you step into the cart for the first time, you know it will bring a whirlwind of emotions—fear, joy, anxiety. You know from the start what to expect, yet you still take the ride because deep down, you believe it will be worth it in the end.

You smile as you finish writing the last sentence in your book, the final period punctuating months of dedication and passion. It's done. After all the hard work, the late nights, and the self-doubt, it's finally finished.

You stand up, stretching your back with a satisfied sigh, and decide that a reward is in order. You change into your exercise outfit, slip on your earphones, and set the timer on your watch.

30 minutes.

You head out, jogging through the park outside your apartment. The weather is perfect—a gentle breeze, the sun filtering through the trees, a few people scattered around, minding their own business. You focus on your breathing, your feet hitting the pavement in a steady rhythm, the world around you fading into the background.

As you reach a shaded path, you feel the need to pause and catch your breath. You slow down, resting your hands on your knees. Suddenly, a hand lands on your shoulder, startling you.

You jump slightly, turning to see who it is. The surprise on your face deepens when you see him.

He’s breathless, his chest heaving as he holds up an index finger, gesturing for a moment of silence. “I’m… sorry,” he says between gasps. “Give me… one second… to catch my breath.”

You stand there, stunned. The face in front of you is one you haven't seen in years.

It’s Han—your first love.

“Nice to see you again,” he finally says, a grin spreading across his face.

You’re speechless for a moment, your mind racing to catch up. “Han… I can’t believe it’s you!” The shock wears off, replaced by a wave of warmth and nostalgia. You reach out and hug him, the familiar scent and feel of him bringing back a flood of memories.

He laughs, hugging you back and patting your shoulder. “I saw you while I was driving and I had to stop. I called out to you, but then I realized you had earphones on.” He chuckles, still slightly out of breath.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” you exclaim, pulling back to look at him properly. “I’m so surprised to see you! How have you been?”

“I’m fine, doing well. It’s so good to see you again.”

“Me too!”

The moment feels surreal as if you’re in a dream. You find yourselves sitting in a cozy café, sipping your favorite strawberry latte while he enjoys a slice of red velvet cake. The scene feels like a perfect snapshot of your reunion, a peaceful moment in the midst of life’s chaos.

Han was your first love, the boy who held your hand when you were just 13. Back then, you both thought you understood love—childish dreams of the future, talking about getting married, and planning a life together as if you knew what it all meant.

You smile, lost in the memories of those innocent days.

-

“Let’s get married,” he had said one time, both of you sitting on a bench, holding hands.

You stopped munching on your favorite snack, looking at him. His eyes, filled with affection, sparkled like they held tiny beating hearts. If this were an animated movie, there would be hearts popping out of them.

“Yes, when we’re adults,” you replied with a smile, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“That’s a promise, okay?”

“Yeah, a promise.” And with that, you linked pinky fingers, sealing the promise with the innocent trust only kids have.

-

“How are you?” you ask now, your eyes locking with his. The happiness in his face is contagious.

“I’m doing well, healthy and living life to the fullest.” He smiles, and it’s the same smile you remember—genuine, warm, unchanging.

“I’m glad to hear that. Really,” you say, feeling the warmth of his presence spreading through you.

“I’m really glad to see you too. How about you?”

“I’m doing fine, healthy as well. Life hasn’t always been easy, but I’m at a point where I’m happy and living my best life.”

“Thank God for that,” he says, his voice full of sincerity.

Hearing those words from him makes you both sigh, a shared sense of relief washing over you.

“I saw you on TV. You’re a famous writer now. You don’t know how proud I am of you,” he says, his voice full of admiration. “I’m glad you achieved your dream.”

His words hit you deep, emotions welling up. “Thank you.”

Being a writer had always been your dream.

-

“When I grow up, I want to be a famous writer. I’ll write books that inspire people,” you had said, lying on the grass, looking up at the stars with Han beside you. You held your pen up like a magic wand, closing one eye as you imagined the future.

“And I hope you achieve that dream,” he had said, taking your hand and holding it tight.

You had smiled at his words, feeling the warmth of his support.

“What about you? What do you want to do when we grow up?” you asked, turning to look at him.

“Me?” He had looked at you, then back at the stars. “Aside from being with you, which is my ultimate dream, I want to become an engineer.”

“An engineer?”

“Yeah… I want to build a big house for us. A really big house.”

You had felt a pang of emotion then, knowing how much he longed for a family and a place to call home.

-

“And you, Han?” you ask now, watching as his smile grows even wider.

“I’m now a licensed engineer.”

“Oh my God, really?!” You can’t contain your excitement, jumping up from your seat to hug him again. “I’m so proud of you, Han! You finally achieved your dream.”

He laughs, happiness radiating from both of you as you hold each other.

“I’m proud of us,” he says, hugging you back tightly.

You pull away, a little embarrassed by your outburst. “I’m so sorry, I just got so happy to hear that, Han.” You sit back down, smiling shyly.

“It’s okay, I’m really happy for us too.”

Han goes on to tell you about his work. He’s the engineer responsible for a new apartment complex in the city. That’s why you crossed paths again. As he talks, you listen intently, your heart swelling with pride for the man he has become.

You nearly tear up as he shares his journey—the hardships, the trials, the long years of studying. He worked hard, from kindergarten all the way to college, never losing sight of his dream. And now, he’s living it.

“I’m finished talking about me. Now, let’s talk about you,” he says, turning the focus back to you.

You fall silent, memories flooding back. You remember the times when you almost gave up on your dream, when no one bought your books, and your work gathered dust on the shelves. You remember walking through bookstores, seeing your book in the corner, covers nearly torn from being ignored.

You remember the despair, the feeling that maybe your dream was just that—a dream. But then, something changed. A light entered your life, lifting you up, guiding you to where you are now. It was hard—so hard—but you persevered, and now you’re here, a successful author with stories that touch people’s hearts.

Tears fill your eyes as you tell him this, the emotions too strong to hold back.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away,” you laugh through the tears, wiping them with a tissue he hands you.

He’s still a gentleman, just like he always was.

“I’m glad for you,” he says softly.

“I’m glad for us,” you reply, feeling a profound connection to him, even after all these years.

-

“What will happen after we achieve our dreams?” you had asked him once, walking together along a tree-lined path. It was fall, and you kicked at the leaves, watching them swirl in the breeze.

“We’ll get married. I’ll buy you the shiniest ring in the world,” he had said, his voice full of determination.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Even if it’s not the shiniest ring in the world… I’ll still marry you.”

“For real?”

“Yes. You’re the only one I want to spend my life with. You’ll build our big house, and I’ll be the most famous writer in the world. We’ll be happy together, forever.”

“And you’ll still wear the shiniest ring in the world because that’s what you deserve,” he had said, holding your hand and kissing it gently.

“I love you,” you had mumbled, your heart full of emotion.

“I love you too.”

And under the falling leaves, you had kissed him for the first time.

-

The conversation between you both gradually trails off, leaving an unspoken tension hanging in the air. The café's ambient sounds—the quiet clinks of cups, the murmur of distant conversations—fade into the background. It feels as though the world outside has paused, allowing you both to be suspended in this fragile moment. You’re unsure if he remembers the past as vividly as you do, but meeting him again has stirred memories you had long buried. The memories of the happy moments you shared, the laughter, the dreams—it all comes rushing back with a bittersweet intensity.

There’s a question burning in your heart, one that you’ve held onto for years. But as you open your mouth to speak, the words falter on your lips. You hesitate, the weight of the past pressing down on you. You’re not sure if you should ask—if you even have the right to.

-

"Let’s break up," you had said, your voice trembling as you turned your back on him, trying to hold yourself together. The words tasted bitter, foreign, as they left your mouth.

"Why?" His voice had cracked, laced with confusion and desperation, forcing you to turn and face him. The sight of his pleading eyes, full of pain, made your resolve waver.

"I don’t know. I don’t deserve you. I don’t love you anymore…" The lie felt like a knife twisting in your chest, each word cutting deeper. You couldn’t look him in the eye, knowing that the truth would betray the facade you were trying to maintain. "And… we’re leaving. We won’t be coming back."

You forced the tears to stay at bay, but when you heard the way his voice cracked, the dam you had built burst. The tears you had tried so hard to hold back streamed down your face, unstoppable.

"Why would you do that to me?" he had asked, his voice barely above a whisper, full of hurt.

"I don’t know. You should find someone else to achieve your dreams with. I have things I need to focus on in my life too. I don’t want to spend my life tied to you," you had said, forcing yourself to face him as you delivered those final, hurtful words. The look in his eyes as he bowed his head, defeated, had nearly broken you.

He was only a boy then, but he had known what love was, what it meant to make someone a part of your life. You had been his life, his future, his everything. How could he continue when the one person he wanted to build that life with had just walked away?

And so, you had left him, without looking back, disappearing from his life as if you had never been a part of it.

-

But now, years later, here he is, sitting in front of you, smiling as if nothing had changed. He’s happy to see you, proud of the person you’ve become, despite the hurtful words you once threw at him. And that, more than anything, tears at your heart.

A single tear escapes your eye before you can stop it, and you quickly wipe it away, hoping he didn’t notice.

"So, do you have a family now?" The question slips out, carrying with it the years of wondering, of what-ifs.

"I…" he begins, but before he can finish, the door of the café chimes, and a beautiful woman walks in, her presence commanding attention. She makes her way to your table, and you watch as Han stands up to greet her, the fondness in his eyes unmistakable.

"Honey…" he says, and your heart skips a beat. The word echoes in your mind, heavy with implications.

Honey?

Confused, you watch as they hug each other warmly, the scene playing out before you like a slow-motion reel. It feels surreal, like you’re watching from a distance, even though you’re right there.

"Honey, this is my friend I told you about," Han says, introducing you with a smile. He then turns to you, his eyes meeting yours. "This is my fiancée."

Fiancée.

The word hits you like a punch to the gut, knocking the wind out of you. You force a smile, accepting her hand for a handshake, even as you feel a pang of pain in your heart

She sits down, joining your conversation with an easy grace, and you can’t help but notice how happy they are together. The way they look at each other, the subtle touches, the smiles—it’s clear that they’re deeply in love, a love that’s mutual and uncomplicated.

you look at the shiniest ring they were wearing.

You’re glad for Han. He deserves this happiness, this life he’s built. He’s finally living his dream, the dream that you once shared but were never meant to fulfill together. He’s found someone to continue that dream with, someone who will stand by his side as he builds the future you both once imagined.

The hurt lingers, but it’s softened by a genuine happiness for him. You’re happy that he’s happy, because that's what he deserve: happiness

Your thoughts are interrupted as the café owner sets your additional drinks down on the table. “Here’s your order,” he says. You murmur a soft thank you, still trying to process the whirlwind of emotions.

“No need to pay for your drinks,” the owner adds with a warm smile. “It’s on me.”

"No, I insist on paying for us," you replied, trying to cover up the flutter of in your chest.

"It's fine, babe," he said, chuckling as he gently pressed the matter.

"Really, it's okay," you laughed, looking between him and Han, who were both clearly confused by the exchange.

"Ah, by the way, I forgot to introduce you," you said, standing up with a smile. You gestured to the man beside you. "This is Hyunjin, the owner of the café."

"Hello, I'm Hyunjin," he said, extending his hand for a handshake. "I'm her boyfriend."

Han's eyes widened in surprise, his confusion evident as he looked between you and Hyunjin.

You laughed at Han's bewildered expression, and soon the table was filled with lighthearted laughter once again.

Life, you thought, was indeed full of surprises and plot twists. Just when you thought you knew how things would turn out, the unexpected happens.

But despite the twists and turns, one thing remains true: life is beautiful.

[sukiipjs]

✮ I DONT WANT TO

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

↳ nick sturniolo x masc reader

↳ words - 866

↳ summary - nick coming over to help you not give into the urge of relapse. (short little thing 👽)

↳ contains - crying, much talk of self harm, depression, use of y/n, pet names (baby), idk

↳ song - candy by alex g

°:. *₊ ° . ☆ °:. *₊ ° . ° .•

°:. *₊ ° . ☆

my breath begins shaky, i sit on my bed, leaning against the headboard, banging my head back against the wall. my hands cover my mouth as i try to catch my breath and be quiet as tears stream down my face.

i don’t know what’s happening, the urge is just getting stronger. two months clean, two months, i don’t want to start this over i’m doing so good.

i lean my head down, taking my hands off myself and gripping them into my hair. my knees are bent up by my chest. i try to keep the thoughts down but i know there’s a blade right beside me, so easy to just grab. but i’ll regret it tomorrow, it’s not worth it, i keep telling myself.

my shirts off, my left arm of healed scars out in view. new ones could come at any point, i’d be so easy to do, i’d be so worth it to do… i cry and cry, now banging my head into my knees trying to do anything but give in that bloody urge.

a light finally shines in my head, nick. call nick. i take my hands off me, leaning over to grab my phone… that sits next to that blade. i open my phone, quickly going to call nick, i bring my phone to the side of my face as it rings, waiting for him to answer.

he finally answers after i call him one or two more times, it’s almost midnight so i don’t blame him. “mm.. y/n, you good?” he groans, i hear his blankets shifting on the other side as i try to speak, my voice being caught, being weak. “i- nick- nick please come over,” i manage to get out words, my breaths are short and fast, i wipe my palm on my eyes, trying to swipe off some tears.

“what? why? are you okay? what’s wrong?” he sounds more alert now, more awake as he hears the tone of my voice. “just come over please- i need you okay,” i curl back into myself, knees to my chest, one of my arms wrapping around my legs and the other still holding my phone. “okay, uhm- i’ll be there soon okay? you’ll be okay, yeah?” i nod, though he can’t even see me.

“mhm,” i mumble out, i hear his sheets ruffle again, i assume he stands out of his bed, “here uh, i’ll call an uber and i’ll be out there as soon as i can okay? do you want me to stay on or?” i hear nick still walk around, “you can get off, ill- uh- i don’t know, i’ll see you soon?” i sniffle as nick asks if i’m sure again, but i say i’m fine, i can wait.

we get off and i stay on my bed, waiting for him as i continue crying into my palms. trying to breath, trying to distract myself, trying again, not to give into the urge.

after a few, i hear my door open and nick shout my name. i lift my head from my palms, wiping off my eyes. nick bursts into my room, seeing my crying and panicking on my bed, the blade right next to me on my bedside table. “y/n…” he says softly as he comes onto the bed next to me, quick to wrap his arms around me tightly.

“you’re okay… you’re okay” he say softly, his head resting in the crook of my neck as he slowly rocks me back and forth, one of his hands stroking through my hair. i hold myself onto him too, my head resting by his neck, tears dampening on his shirt.

he moves himself back so he can look at me, “what’s wrong baby…” he asks softly, his hand now on the side of my face, his thumb rubbing tears off my cheek. “i don’t know nick, i just- i don’t want to feel like this… i don’t know what’s happening… i thought i was getting better. i don’t want to nick, i don’t want to…” i cry out, pushing my head onto him again. “shh, you’re okay… i’m with you, i’ve got you. you’re doing the best you can, i know it” his hand brushing against my head, fingers ruffling through my hair more as his chin rests top on my head.

“i- i don’t want to.” my body shakes onto his, his arms squeeze onto me tighter. “you don’t have to okau? i’m here… i’m here for you…” he slowly leans us down, so we lay down on my bed. his arms still holding me as he gives my cheek a kiss before nuzzling his head onto my neck. “i love you so much and i’m here, you’re going to be okay and i’ll help you any way i can.”

i turn to my side, facing nick as i also hold onto him, “i know… and- i love you, i really really love you,” our foreheads press together, as i finally begin to catch my breath more with nick here. we move our bodys, my head beginning to rest on his chest as nick starts falling asleep already, me after him.

☆ °:. *₊ ° . °

taglist : @slutforchriss @mattsleftnipple03 @mattsdinosweater @ccolleenn @mixvchelle @leah-loves-lilies @sturn-wrld @redz0nez9 @cheriematt @freshloveforthefit @nickuniversity @whore4matt @txssvx @teenagetrash00 @matty-bear @venusbabysblog @m0r94n @junnniiieee07 @miloisdone1 @rottingwithglitter @clemlament @tvylorswiftt @krosseyedkori

[mkkk12345]

Student Crewel x Reader headcanon/fic

This is set when Crewel was still a student at NRC, reader is a first year and Crewel is a second year.

Its 3 am I don’t know what I am doing please take my offering and feel free to request I guess. 

- There's no doubt about it he is a Pomfiore student

- Because of his unique and fabulous fashion sense he became the house-warden in his first year

- Back then he did not dye his hair white it was solid black

- As the house-warden he is smart, he has perfect grades to go along with his looks

- In his free time, you could likely find him sketching out new fashion designs for his next show

- Did I forget to mention that he is already an established and renowned fashion designer?

- As a house-warden he is strict not as bad as Riddle but similarly to Vil he requires everyone to look their best at all times

- You and Crewel met in his second year when you were in your first year

- Upon seeing you in the hall of mirrors he would firstly critique your ceremonial robes seeing that although your looks were good my god u did not know how to put that thing on… he can fix you… I think?

- He had mixed feelings when you were assigned to Pomfiore

- Only once you had been sorted into his dorm did he begin to really think about your ill fitting ceremonial robes

- On one hand, he had never seen someone like you before

- On the other hand… there was a lot of work to be done regarding your choice of clothing

- Your first interactions with him were likely right after the ceremony 

- You were talking to a couple of first years before being sent off to your dorms when you heard the clicking of footsteps quickly approaching you

- This is followed by your ceremonial robes being adjusted along with murmuring about how troublesome it's going to be with you in the dorm

- Once you arrived at Pomfiore you found out the one who had been fussing over your clothing was nonother than the house-warden himself Divius Crewel

- Although all the fussing over you was annoying at first as you slowly got to know him things became slightly better

- Once you found out that he was a famous fashion designer all those times he held his sketchbook up to compare to you finally made sense

- Now whenever you catch him doing this your face would flush and you would quickly turn away 

- When you start doing this he is confused, you use to at least acknowledge his presence when you looked at him but now what? Don’t tell him he was about to lose a future model of his?

- After a month of this happening he decided to confront you about it

- Of course, at first you denied anything like this even happening but as the conversation continued an unexplainable hint of pink surfaced on your cheeks

- And that's when he pieced everything together 

- With a smirk on his face, he decided why not torment you for a little longer before confirming his suspicions 

- “Say Y/N why don't we continue this conversation in my room there's something else I must discuss so let's leave it at this for now, shall we? We cant be late for class can we now?”

- Your friends practical dragged you to your next class that day as you continued to overthink everything he had just said

- Once all school activities had ended you slowly inched your way back to the dorms and to the grand doors of Crewels room

- Your shaky knock on the door was met with an annoyed “come in” from Crewel

- “Ahh why if it isn't my dear puppy”

- Your dead 

- On the floor even

- What did he just call you??? Puppy???????

- While you were too stunned to speak he continued

- “I needed to discuss some work-related things with you, would you like to model for me in my next show?”

- What? Did you just hear him correctly?? He wants YOU to walk for him?

- “Are you sure Divus? I mean I've never done anything of the sort before and-”

- “Look dear it either you walk or this show doesn't go on I did design this collection with you in mind after all”

- That smirk god damit that smirk 

- “Fine, I can't let work like yours be thrown into the shadows after all.”

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Lost Hope

Pairing: Dark Paul Atreides x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

SUMMARY: Paul will never allow you to stay behind in Caladan, not when you belong by his side.

WARNINGS: Toxic Marriage; Pregnancy.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feeback.

--

“In the Duchess’s current situation, it would be best if she stayed here instead of traveling for Arrakis. The intense warm weather may pose a difficulty.” Dr. Yueh informs, crossing his hands in front of him as he faces Paul. Everyone in this room knows Paul won’t be pleased by this. 

You’re laying in bed, snuggled up on fluffy pillows with one of Paul’s hands possessively perched on top of your belly. Your five month bump is very noticeable now, it often makes you feel weak and sick, just like any other common pregnancy. 

However earlier today, as you managed the preparations to travel to Arrakis, you felt sick, almost passing out which left everyone in a state of complete distress. 

“Paul, maybe I really shouldn’t go. I’ll be fine here, don’t worry.” you try to disguise the hope in your voice, assuringly placing your hand on top of Paul’s. 

Paul gives you an odd look, as if he’s trying to decipher your words and after a long moment, he turns around towards a maid. 

“Prepare all of the Duchess’s belongings. She’s still coming.” he commands, his voice strong and determined. It breaks the last of your hopes, but you try to maintain an indifferent expression. 

“Thank you for your advice, Dr. Yueh. You may all leave now.” Dr. Yueh bows, giving you a sad look before exiting the room, accompanied by the maids. As soon as the door closes, Paul’s hand grabs your face, squishing your cheeks together. 

“Did you really think that faking being ill would stop me from taking you to Arrakis? That I would just leave you here alone, so that you could rejoice without my presence?” your eyes widen with shock as you try to shake your head. 

“N-No! Paul, I wasn’t pretending! I-” 

“Enough.” his loud voice makes you flinch, tears pooling in your eyes. Paul finally removes his painful hold off your face, releasing a deep sigh. He rubs one of his hands on his face, a tired expression settling in. 

“Let’s not fight, shall we? I already have much to worry about without having you trying to slip away from me.” he looks at you, his hand once again advancing towards your face but this time with a gentler touch, his thumb smoothly rubbing your cheek, catching up a fallen tear. 

By now you should be used to his constant bipolar moods, either smothering you with love or behaving as if you’re always trying to escape from him. Which has a bit of truth there. 

“You know I can’t leave you here, I need you with me and that’s never going to change.” his eyes glint with an emotion that you can’t quite understand. Love, passion, obsession. “Whether you like it or not.” 

[jackmanbj]

pinkie

summary: you and urban have been together for 3 months, you ask him to pay for your nails but only in one condition.

you- urby babyy!

urby🎈- yes baby?

you- you know i love you so, so, so, so much right?

urby🎈- what do you need babe?

you- can you please pay for my nails? ill give you head after

urby🎈- ill pay for them only if you get the base the color of my tip😂

you- jesus you get on my damn nerves, send me a picture of the tip so i get the exact color wyatt.

urby🎈- love you more.

‘urby🎈 send one attachment’

you took the picture and zoomed in making it unnoticeable on what it was and headed into the nail techs house.

you went into your nail techs house and ran into her room jumping on her bed and cuddling into her.

“bitchh!”

“girl your smushing me!!” she wheezed out as you slid off her.

“ANYWAYS!” “what style you getting?”

“ok uhmm..my man told me he’d pay for my nails IF i get his tip color..”

“AHHH BTICH YOU DOING IT??”

“uhm of course. so the base is going to be the tip color, and on top of the base i want pink frenchies, then i want flowers no french on my thumb, middle and index.”

“well gotdamn, but alright lets go.”

you both got up and started making your ways into the room she does nails at.

you and your nail tech are very close, so you both sat down while she did your nails and just talked about any and everything, your boyfriends and mostly people who you both didnt like.

half way through your nail set urban called you.

your nail tech answered and put it on speaker for you.

“urban dont say anything embarrassing, your on speaker.”

“babe you tell your nail tech everything, ill be surprised if she doesn’t know how big my dick is at this point.”

“I DO!” kenya (the nail tech name) yelling into the phone.

“BABE WHY!”

“oopise!”

you quickly but carefully hung up on urban while you and kenya laughed together.

after about 30 minutes urban knew it was about time to pick you up being as thorough you had to catch an uber because he was busy.

urban picked you up and paid kenya as you hugged her goodbye.

urban got into the car after you and immediately asked to see your nails.

you showed him as he grinned ear to ear noticing it was the exact color match and his initial was on your ring finger.

“baby we gotta put these nails to good use huh?” you looked down at your nails before looking back at urban.

“only if you pay for my new wig install, AND, you have to pick me up and bring me ‘cause the uber felt weird!”

“fine, mamas you know you’re spoiled?”

“im not!” “you are babes, you dont like to drive, you do pay for nothing, you dont work, AND YOUR A PILLOW PRINCESS!!”

“one i dont even know how to drive! two, you never let me pay! three, you work i take care of the house. plus you dont want me to have to work. AND IM NOT A PILLOW PRINCESS FOR THE LAST TIME WYATT!!!”

“ok baby whatever you say.”

urban kissed your cheek and started driving.

you on the other hand opened up your passenger seat had your name in pink cursive with glider in it.

“urban, this is so cute! your going to make me cry..”

“glad you like it ma, i got more surprises at home, just wait.”

[octuscle]

Support dude, it’s me again, Mike. I hit you up so much I feel like I should pay you. And hey if you need that, I’ve got you just tell me. I owe you a shit ton, dude. Since you last helped me, Jack and I tied the fucking knot (and had a hell of a honeymoon haha hadn’t gotten so many noise complaints since high school) and I even moved into his place. Real big and nice like, would make a suburban man cream his pants and even a socialite would do a double take. For as filthy as he can be with me, big boss knows how to fucking live.

But I wouldn’t be hitting you up if everything was all sunshine and rainbows, eh? (Though one of these days I might convince Boss to let you in on our thing for a night or two, just to say thank you if that’s a thing you wanted wink) One of the neighbors apparently doesn’t like it so much when I invite some of the guys at work over for our, let’s call em team bonding events. He bitches and moans about how loud and rowdy we get and how it’s ruining the value of the neighborhood. I almost kicked his ass the first time he came by all bossy and shit, but Boss told me he was President of their HOA or whatever the fuck and that I couldn’t. So I’ve been trying to ignore the prude but if he comes over and ruins another good night I might lose my cool and I don’t wanna let down Boss like that.

Any way you can make the neighborhood meet our lifestyle choices better, dude? I don’t wanna give up this lavish living so soon, it’s nice as hell. But I don’t want it to change me. I wanna change it! Ain’t no reason we can’t live it up without being able to get down if you catch my drift. Can you help me?

I have not invested so much time in my favorite customers, so that you now become adapted suburban bourgeois. So it's time for me to take care of your neighbor. He may be the president of the HOA, after all. But that doesn't give him the right to regulate your private lives. But I could add a little spice to his.

Actually, the boring buffer is not a visitor to the gym. Thank God. So at least you have peace from him there. But today he feels like working out his muscles. And of course, when he enters the locker room, you run right into his arms. And the slimy ass-kisser can do nothing but shake your hand in a friendly way, as if you were best friends. Oops, sorry that your towel slips down.

Normally you are hard as granite when you come back from training. At the sight of your neighbor, the 8 inches dangle limply between your legs. He still seems impressed. To warn your man, you send him a quick message about what to expect during his workout. And write him that you are already preparing everything for dinner at home. "Everything is fine, stallion! daddy wont b disturbed during his workout. Ill b home in 2 hrs"

Your neighbor is blocking the very stations where Jack wants to work out. He has memorized the gym rules and points out every pissy infraction to your husband. In the beginning. But the more Jack sweats, the more musk he exudes, the hornier your neighbor gets. And slowly he starts to change. Actually, sleeveless tops are not allowed in the gym. You both don't care. And your neighbor now too. With the white wifebeater he looks almost like Jack's gym buddy. And he's starting to smell like one, too. It's hard to believe that just a few minutes ago he was the overgroomed suit guy. His armpit hair is sprouting. He obviously hasn't been to the barbershop in a few months either. He stops regimenting your husband. The two of them start working out together as if they've been doing it forever. Steve (your neighbor) can't get enough of having Jack's sweaty workout shorts hanging in front of his face during the bench press. His bulge gets bigger and bigger. And the damp spots in his shorts aren't just from sweat. Jack asks if it's not time to go to the locker room. Steve replies that he was already afraid that Jack wouldn't even ask.

"is it k if i bring a pal 2 dinner" texts Jack. "he 1't want much mor then ur cum and mine." "then he shud bring big appetite" you reply. Shit, this time when Steve shakes your hand, nothing is limp between your legs. Enjoy the evening with the president of the HOA to the fullest!

Pics all found @thelockerroomblog

[magpiepills]

Hey!

It’s been a few weeks.

I miss y’all. I can’t remember now how much I’ve shared about my personal life. I try not to share too much but I think sometimes it can be helpful.

TW grief, loss of a parent, sappiness, my eternal love and gratitude below the cut

Some of you know that last year one of my parents was diagnosed with stage four cancer. They got treatment, but we knew that survival wasn’t likely. For the last month, I got to spend a lot of time with my family and my parent through the end of their illness and it was rough. Really rough at times. Writing was my outlet and distraction until it wasn’t enough any more. I’m grateful for that.

My parent is gone now and I feel like I’ve been spit onto shore after getting thrown around in the waves for a long time. I’m catching my breath. I want to catch up on my reading and reblogging and loving on my friends. I owe you all more than I can repay for continuing to check on me, for tagging me even when I haven’t been able to interact, for reaching out, for being kind and understanding. It really does mean so much to me.

First and foremost, my forever loves- the magic sluts: @arcanefox207 @redhotkitchen @sparklefarts38 @exquisiteserotonin @pink-whiskey-woman

@youandmeand5bucks @legendary-pink-dot @for-a-longlongtime you eight are the most wonderful, genuine, kind, loving women and I can’t believe my luck that I get to know you and bask in your warmth. When I’ve whined and ranted you’ve let me, you’ve been my soft spot to land when I needed to feel like life was normal and fine, when I just wanted to ignore everything. When I was afraid of being alone at the hospital, you kept me company and reassured me! I can’t begin to express my love for you. I’ve never felt so known and seen and embraced. There’s never been judgement or competition or comparison, just love and permission to be our real selves. All because we were horny over the same dude who doesn’t know we exist. What are the odds? What did I do to be worthy of this? I’ll never know.

@nerdieforpedro @mermaidgirl30 @schnarfer @cvntclip @mountainsandmayhem

@morallyinept @secretelephanttattoo @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @yorksgirl

@sin-djarin @milla-frenchy @vivian-pascal @pascalssbabyy @strang3lov3

@kewwrites @pimosworld @joelmillerisapunk @sheepdogchick3 @bubble-pop-eclectic

I know I’ve missed some of my friends. If you’ve tagged me in you posts, your tag games, messaged me here or on discord, if you send me a sweet ask, or something lighthearted, or something horny, you’re included. You’re all wonderful. You’ve all had a positive impact on the way I’ve gotten through the last seven months. Even when I had a meltdown back in the spring and flounced, you welcomed me back and let me carry on like normal. From the bottom of my heart, thanks. I hope if you’re ever having a bad time, that I can be there for you, too.

In conclusion, I didn’t know that being a fan of one guy and posting shamelessly about it online would turn into something like a lifeline when I needed it most.

When I say I love you I really do mean it.