#instead of sitting at home wondering if I’m ever going to be good enough for you

[angeldarkrose]

I’m still dreaming of you. After EVERYTHING you’ve done and refusing to even better yourself by 1% I still dream of you.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

It's a Match! || 141 x reader

[ Chapter 7 ] || [ Chapter 9 ]

Pairing: Ghost x gn!Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.1K~ Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: ghost is making a move.

Chapter 8: Awooga?

Surprisingly, your one-night stand with John last night did wonders for you. You felt energized all day and made it a point to clean everything instead of moping about like you have tended to do since your break-up with Ethan.

There were days when you considered texting him, neck deep in feelings you couldn’t quite move past, trying your best to stay afloat. Four years by his side couldn’t be forgotten in the blink of an eye, even if neither of you wanted anything to do with the other and had each other blocked on every platform imaginable.

It’s 4 P.M. on Saturday and you’re laying about in your living room wearing lounge clothes, your legs spread over your coffee table, eyes lazily locked on the TV as you fiddle with your phone, twirling it in your hand.

Eventually, you find yourself getting bored… So you decide to open Tinder one last time. You got what you wanted out of it. John scratched that itch… There’s no need to keep it. But it’s still funny enough to judge the men on that app even if you’re no longer doing anything with them.

You start Left Swiping on every profile that comes onto your screen, silently judging each one and murmuring to yourself. You get about 15 profiles in before you find yourself bored of even that.

Sighing and getting peckish, you decide to order yourself something good for dinner from a delivery app. Then, while waiting for the notification that your driver is on his way, you return to Tinder.

You open the DM tab, finding dozens of new DMs from guys and skim through them, none of them catching your eye. If you were in the mood, you’d maybe engage in convo with one of them, maybe annoy them a little… But they all seem so… bland.

Then you find Simon’s chat lost in the influx. You click on it for a moment, smiling a bit as you spot his politeness and excess professionalism for someone that’s on a dating app looking to get laid.

Biting your lip, your fingers glide across the keyboard as you shoot him a quick message.

you: so… are you thinking of ever uploading a new pic of yourself?

The Read indicator popped up under your DM almos instantly, and the bubbles indicating Simon was typing soon followed.

Simon: Look who it is. Simon: Hello to you too. Simon: No, I don’t intend to do that. you: hi, sorry. x you: why not? Simon: I don’t take this app seriously enough to want to show off what I look like. you: was that a dig at me for having a whole gallery? Simon: No. Simon: Unless you want it to be. 😉 you: 😱😱 you: SIMON DID YOU JUST USE AN EMOJI? Simon: I regret doing it now. you: NOOOO pls don’t! you: it was fun!!!! Simon: Alright then. Simon: How are you feeling today?

You’re genuinely shocked by his question and you find yourself smiling a bit.

you: i’m okay hru? Simon: Just okay? I’m fine thanks. you: yeah! feeling lazy. Simon: You had me worried you weren’t feeling well after last night.

Your cheeks warm up so quickly that you even sputter and sit up on the couch with a start.

you: you know?? Simon: Of course I know. Simon: John’s my captain.  you: he told you??????? Simon: No. John’s old school. No kiss and tell. Simon: But we were all expecting he’d go home with you. Simon: Kind of an open secret. you: oh Simon: Does that bother you? you: i don’t think so? you: i guess i should’ve expected you would realize it Simon: I’m sorry. Simon: To be fair, I can tell you that you did a great job, he’s in a much better mood. you: that is not the praise you think it is 😭 Simon: I’m not used to giving praise, cut me some slack alright? you: right. i can see that. you: the whole - my team would say i push them - thing Simon: I stand by that. Simon: I’m not very good at talking. Simon: But I’m not a liar. you: i’ve noticed you: you tend to hate being called that. Simon: Lie enough on the job. Simon: When I’m talking to people outside of that, I like being as honest as I can be. you: i see you: sooo does that mean i can ask you things and you’ll be honest in the answers? Simon: About? you: you Simon: Within reason. you: what do you look like Simon: 6ft4, blonde, brown eyes. you: that’s it? Simon: I said ‘Within reason’. That means I won’t give you more than I think I should. you: infuriating 😤 Simon: That’s life.

Just as you’re about to answer, your doorbell rings. You were so absorbed in Simon’s chat that you didn’t notice your delivery driver arrived.

You slip on some shoes quickly and dash downstairs to the front door of the building to receive your food.

Once upstairs, you set your food on the table and unwrap everything, beginning to eat your Nando’s chicken as you try to resume texting Simon one-handed.

That’s when you spot the message he sent you while you were busy.

Simon: Added some new pics. Simon: Don’t say I never did anything for you. Simon: But I’ll take them down in 2 minutes so you better hurry up.

Eyebrows raised, you quickly click on his profile and rush to tap through to the new pictures.

The first one makes you chuckle. Of course, it’s him wearing a hoodie and a stupid mask… But the second one? Your jaw drops open and you find yourself swallowing dryly.

“Awooga…” You quip to yourself and giggle, amused at your own silliness as your eyes trail over every inch of exposed skin in Simon’s chest. Even if that’s not him, even if that’s just some… bloke he found online, it’s still a bloody fine picture.

Returning to the chat, you type a quick reply.

you: not bad Simon: Answered your questions? you: raised a couple more. Simon: Good. Simon: You keep them in your mind for later. you: why does it feel like you’re leaving?? Simon: Because I am. Duty calls. Simon: I’ll tell John you said 'Hi'. you: okay... you: be careful!

As soon as you sent that message you found yourself facepalming. Why do you sound like a concerned partner? You don’t even know this man. Any of them really. Even if you had one of them inside of you less than 24 hours ago.

You don't dwell too much on it because soon there's a message from Simon on the screen.

Simon: Always am. Don’t miss us too much.

Shaking your head, you set down your phone, locking the screen, and turning back to your peri-peri chicken and chips, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

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taglist: @daisychainsinknots , @bunnysdaydreams , @iite-cool , @lahniu , @pagesfalling , @tapioca-milktea1978 , @live-love-be-unique , @thelaisydazy , @littleghosthunter , @bossva , @emotion-no-hot-yes-hotel-trivago , @chamomiletealeaf , @ghosts-hoe , @kariiiel , @ltbarnes , @irregulardongyoung , @spacelia , @hayleybarnesx , @infpt-zylith , @xxshadowbabexx , @frescoisnotinthemilitary , @leeeenistop , @lucienbarkbark , @zombie-freak , @wittleespur , @agoodmoviekiss , @l0lziez , @whos-fran , @greatstormcat , @openup-yourmind , @neoarchipelago , @sodavrr , @cutiecusp , @lilliumrorum , @c-nstantine , @kneelforloki , @comeonatmebruh , @codsunshine , @waiting-so-long , @captainquake42 , @gazspookiebear

[pathologicalreid]

Dude I love ur writing sm!! It’s literally so good and Buried Alive was amazing! If ur down for it (totally no pressure at all) I was wondering if u would eventually write a second part where Spencer helps the reader with the aftermath? Like maybe they struggle with PTSD or severe claustrophobia after that? Idk ur literally amazing enough I’m sure u have great ideas and again, it’s completely up to u, I was just wondering

above ground | S.R.

part one part three

in which spencer helps you cope with the aftermath of your abduction, and you reciprocate

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: hurt/comfort, angst

content warnings: claustrophobia, being buried alive, nightmares/night terrors, ptsd, death, cpr, use of pet names, mentions of drugs, therapy, suffocation

word count: 2.2k

a/n: hello anon! i am absolutely always down for spencer reid hurt/comfort!! thank you so much for asking!!! i've been super overwhelmed with all of the support i've received on buried alive and i'm so so grateful for all of the kind things people have said.

Standing in a dark room, you looked around your surroundings. There was nothing around you that told you where you were. The walls were all blank, the ground was cement, and it was too dark for you to even see the ceiling.

Hesitantly, you reached out your palm, touching the wall just for it to be met with something… damp? You pulled your hand away, and your skin came back dirty. Your stomach churned as you observed the soil that had settled in the creases of your fingerprints. “No,” you breathed, quickly moving to dig at the walls.

You felt it on your elbow next, like the dirt walls were encroaching on you. You turned around to see the dark room was just getting darker, and the walls started to deteriorate. Like an avalanche, the dirt of the walls falls to the ground, covering your feet, “No,” you cried out this time.

Digging at the walls just made your earthly prison bury you faster, so instead, you tried to climb toward the ceiling. You whimpered in defeat as you reached the previously unseen ceiling. The loose earth reached your chest, constricting your breathing. You tilted your head back in an attempt to keep the dirt out of your mouth.

Your face felt cool like a gentle breeze was being blown on it. You choked, but to your surprise, you didn’t choke on dirt.

            There were hands on you, one hand on your shoulder and another on your waist. That didn’t make sense to you, someone hauled you into a sitting position, patting your back in an attempt to help you clear your throat.

            The choking turned to coughing, which then turned to dry heaving off the edge of your bed. Very rarely did anything ever come out, but you kept a trash can there just in case. You blinked as someone reached over and turned on the lamp on your bedside table, the comforting hand remained on your back.

            Desperately, you tried to catch your breath, tilting your head back as you tried to open your airway. “You’re safe. I’m right here, angel,” Spencer whispered from behind you, he leaned his forehead between your shoulder blades and drew hearts on your back with his index finger.

            You took a deep, shuddering breath as you finally filled your lungs, visualizing the air going in and out of your body. Breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth.

            Spencer continued whispering to you, not once did he tell you that your dream wasn’t real because it was real. To you, being buried alive was very real. The suffocation was real, it had happened to you.

            Two months ago, you had been abducted and buried alive by a family, a mother and her two sons. All of whom were in jail awaiting trial. The two agents from the Omaha field office who had left you alone in the funeral home apologized profusely, you had a private meeting with the director of the FBI, and the BAU rallied behind you, it was nice, but none of it made the fear go away.

            The first nightmare came the same night you were back in Virginia, and you had screamed so loud that your neighbors called the police. Spencer handled everything, and when the officers insisted that they needed to speak to you directly, he flashed his FBI credentials, something he really wasn’t supposed to do.

            Your response was to avoid sleeping, at least at night. You stayed awake at night, reading, or watching TV with headphones on, and you slept during the day so that when you opened your eyes, you could feel the sun on your face. The problem was when you needed to go somewhere, you didn’t sleep, or when it rained, you didn’t sleep.

            The exhaustion just made your anxiety worse, and Spencer caught on to it. He sat you down on the couch and held your hands, telling you that he understood that you didn’t want to feel like you were burdening anyone with your nightmares, but he needed you to understand that you were killing yourself at the same time.

            He didn’t do it for everyone, but for you, Spencer took over the role of protector. He found you a therapist in the district that specialized in patients with PTSD and claustrophobia. It was an hour round trip, but Spencer was more than willing to take you the first few times.

            Dr. Montgomery quickly diagnosed you with PTSD and claustrophobia. You hadn’t realized that claustrophobia was something you could be clinically diagnosed with, but the doctor told you that there’s a difference between a fear of enclosed spaces and what you had. He was straightforward, which you liked, and he told you that your claustrophobia was a response to the traumatic event that you had experienced.

            A steady course of treatment that included medication and exposure therapy had slowly been giving you your life back.

            But then there was Spencer.

            Spencer had Morgan help him take the inside doors of your apartment off the hinges so air would flow, and you wouldn’t be afraid of suffocating. He left the ceiling fan in your bedroom on even as the weather cooled so the air never got stale.

            Six weeks ago, you had mentioned offhandedly that you were having a hard time sleeping in total silence, and Spencer had come home later with a white noise machine.

            When you apologized to him for needing the lights on to sleep, he responded by stringing lights around the entire apartment, telling you he read that warm light can help prepare the mind and body for sleep.

            He turned in all of his PTO, even accepting some from David Rossi, who didn’t use his anyway, so he could stay home with you while you were on mandatory medical leave. He tagged along to therapy appointments, to the neurologist, and even to the FBI physician who needed to clear your physical injuries to your ribs before you could return to the field.

            On his nightstand, there was a stack of books all about claustrophobia and loving someone with PTSD.

            Not once through this whole endeavor did you question your relationship with Spencer, he made himself perfectly clear through his actions. He wasn’t going anywhere.

            The FBI physician cleared you two weeks ago, your neurologist faxed Hotch paperwork stating you were without any deficits, and your psychiatrist told you that as long as you felt like you could avoid your triggers, you should be able to go back to work. In fact, Dr. Montgomery thought going back to work could be beneficial.

            You were supposed to go back tomorrow.

            Spencer was now sitting in front of you, and he offered you a small smile as you blinked yourself out of your nightmare-induced stupor and met his eyes, “There’s my girl,” he whispered. For a moment, you focused on his movements, smoothing your hair back with one hand and leaving the other hand resting on your waist. “I love you. You’re safe, you’re at home with me,” he reassured you.

            You narrowed your eyebrows, “It was- I was in the ground again.” Hesitantly, you looked down at your hands, they were perfectly clean, not a speck of dirt to be seen.

            “It was a night terror, angel,” he said, speaking gently to you as he reached over and pulled the strap of your tank top up and over your shoulder from where it had fallen. A night terror, not a nightmare.

            Tears dropped down your face when you closed your eyes. “I couldn’t breathe,” you whimpered. Taking a gasping breath, you looked at Spencer as you tried to draw air into your lungs, “I couldn’t breathe, Spence. I couldn’t breathe.”

            Quickly, Spencer pulled you into his lap and held you, “Shh,” he cooed. “I’ve got you, my love. I’m right here,” he murmured as you set your chin on his shoulder and cried.

            “I suffocated,” you whispered, it was a fact of your life, that you had stopped breathing for a period of time. The doctors estimated you had been down for almost ten minutes.

            His hold on you tightened, “I know,” his voice broke slightly. “I know, baby,” he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you need?” He asked, watching you intently as he reached up and used the pads of his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

            You blinked the last of your tears from your eyes before meeting his, “Can we go outside?” You asked him, placing your hands on both of his shoulders.

            Spencer nodded, leaning over to grab his glasses off of his nightstand before standing up and picking you up as he went.

            Instinctively, you yelped, but a laugh escaped your lips. It was a foreign feeling sometimes, but Spencer always knew how to elicit a smile from you. “Put me down,” you said, but your tone was light.

            Once your feet were touching the ground, Spencer looked at you, “I just wanted to see you smile.” He said earnestly.

            Despite yourself, the corner of your mouth quirked up, “Thank you.” You reached over to grab your phone off the charger and slide it into your pocket before you led Spencer out to your apartment’s balcony. He sat down on one of the chairs and pulled you down onto his lap.

            You let him hold you, not moving and just letting your body settle on top of his. The cool autumn air filled your lungs as Spencer held you. You let him hold you because you knew that his fear was just as valid as yours. While you were afraid of confinement because you had been confined, he was afraid of you dying because you had died.

            “I can hear you thinking, honey,” you whispered, leaning your head on his shoulder. “What’s on your mind?” You asked him, taking his hand and intertwining your fingers together.

            He sighed, “I’m worried about you,” he admitted. “I want to tell you not to go back to work yet, even though I know that logically it’s the next step for you,” Spencer said, you watched his honey-colored eyes as they studied your face. “And I know that you need it, you need to return to something dependable.”

            You move your head so you can look him in the eyes better, “But?”

            “But,” he continued, “the BAU isn’t dependable. You have this great routine that we’ve very nearly perfected and I’m so worried about you straying from it. The long hours at work could very well cause you to lose all of the progress you’ve made in the last two months,” he tells you candidly. “What happens when you need to get on an elevator, or when you need to get on the jet, and you can’t? What about when you-“ He cut himself off, swallowing thickly before he said something he couldn’t take back.

            You shifted so you were facing him, shoulder to shoulder, “What is it, Spence?”

            He took a deep breath and cupped your cheek with his hand, “The last case you worked on, you died. I pulled your dead body out of a casket. Fuck, Y/N,” his curse took you aback, he usually strayed from swearing. “I did CPR on you before Morgan took over,” he finished, voice growing hoarse.

            Your lips parted; you couldn’t answer him. You didn’t know how to answer him, but you took his hand and selected his third and index finger before pressing them to the pulse point on your wrist. In response, he sighed and leaned his forehead to yours. You watched his lips move as he silently counted the beats per minute.

            The both of you jumped when your phone went off, and dread filled your stomach when you checked your phone.

            Penelope Garcia: Local case. Round table room in thirty if you’re up for it.

            “If you ask me to stay home, I will,” you told Spencer, sweeping his curls behind his ears. “I won’t hold it against you, I’ll tell Hotch I need more time.”

            Spencer shook his head, “You know I can’t do that. I can’t make that decision for you, and I don’t want you to make the decision for me, you need to choose what you want.”

            You both went, Spencer distracted you for the entire elevator ride up to the BAU, but he was still tense. Even though he insisted he was fine, you knew him better than that.

Spencer followed you up to Hotch’s office and when you told Hotch you wanted to work but you didn’t feel ready to be in the field, your unit chief nodded and told you that you were welcome to stay in the local precinct and work on a geographical profile with Spencer.

            You watched the tension leave Spencer’s body. He tried to tell you that you didn’t need to do that, but you just rolled your eyes and dragged him to the roundtable room.

[coichii]

101 DEGREES FARENHEIT - LEE KNOW

pairing - bf!minho ♥︎ fem!uni student!reader

genre: sickfic, angst, and comfort

word count: 1.9k

warnings: cursing, unhealthy habits, self deprecating behavior & thoughts.

A/N : i made this while tiptoeing on the edge of sickness and feeling well..😭 also originally was not going to be his birthday fic but uhm.. i lost motivation….

You grab a sip of your water for what feels like the 1000th time tonight.

Somehow, throughout the day, you had picked up a cold. You knew there was some strain of flu spreading throughout your school, but man this one spread quicker than ever.

There’s no time for that though, especially not with midterms coming up right around the corner. So with heavy eyes and a sore throat that you swear is getting worse within a matter of seconds, you continue studying.

You didn’t live on campus. In fact, you lived in a small apartment with your boyfriend, Minho. It was close enough to both your university and his company, so it worked out perfectly. Not having to deal with pesky, disgusting roommates and getting to live with the love of your life instead was the dream.

The sound of keys ringing and the door cracking open was enough to pull you out of your thoughts. Your lover had just came home.

You smile gently as you hear his quiet footsteps grow ever closer to the door, heart bubbling with same excitement as it had when you first moved in. The feeling never went away, not even a little bit.

“Hi baby.” He says, walking in to your shared bedroom and sitting down on the bed behind you. “Still working this late?”

“Well yeah. Couldn’t sleep.” You reply. You wonder if your voice gave your illness away, because you can see his eye brows furrowing as you speak. “Are you sick y/n?”

“I just came down with it. My throat hurts, that’s all. I may not even be sick.” You try not to worry him, lying as you speak. If you’re being honest, your throat hurts like a bitch. But you know him well enough to know that if he knows how bad your feeling, he’ll focus all his energy on making you feel 110% and push off practically everything else.

He hums in response, eyes still searching yours before he’s moving to stand up. “Let me make you some tea then hmm? that should make you feel better.”

“Are you sure? It’s still super later Minho.” You respond, but you know it’s a loosing battle. He could be stubborn when he needed to be, and he is when it comes to you and your health.

“It’s fine. Besides, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of you. Do you want chamomile?” He asked, not taking no for an answer. You smile as you feel yourself giving in, eyes feeling even more agonizingly heavy.

“Please” you groan out, and he’s leaving to the kitchen. You feel grateful for him as the day and pain catches up to you, finally deciding to close your textbooks and change for the night. Thankfully, you had already showered and brushed your teeth, so there was no worrying about that.

You grab the book you had been reading from your nightstand as you tuck your self into bed, silently waiting for the tea your boyfriend had prepared.

Even though you put up a slight fight about it, you can’t help but enjoy when he treats you like this. You love when he takes care of you, it makes you feel special and loved. It fills you with a special kind of warmth that can’t be described in words. Just pure love.

Just as the pain in your throat felt as if it was getting impossibly worse, your boyfriend came in with a steaming cup of hot chamomile tea, placing it down on the coaster next to you. “It’s really hot so be careful okay? I’m going to go shower now.” He dotes on you, placing a chaste kiss on your cheek.

“Ok, thank you so much baby. I’ll probably be sleep by the time you’re done.” And he hums in response, giving you one last kiss on the cheek before heading to the bathroom, clothes in hand.

The tea does a good job with soothing your throat, the sweet, honey taste dripping down your throat perfectly remedying the itchy, scratchy feeling.

You decide to finally get some shut eye as midnight comes around quicker than you thought, placing your book back on the nightstand and trying to get comfortable.

Key word : Trying

It’s hard, especially with the small cough that creeped its way into your throat all of a sudden. It’s keeping you up, the hacking noise disrupting the peace your body needed to finally fall asleep.

It takes longer than you wish it did, but eventually the tea is able to coax your body into sleep, eyes finally getting the rest they desperately needed.

Moments later, Minho joins you in the bedroom, clad in nothing but breezy pajama pants. Getting into bed with you and snuggling close, he knows you’re asleep, but he can’t help but begin to pepper small kisses upon face and hold you tighter.

“Get better, my love.” He drifts off, falling into sleep alongside you.

And you wish you could say you did.

You woke up smoldering hot but shivering at the same time. You look at your clock, groaning as the bright light amplified the small headache that had spread through your entire face. 10 am. You’re usually up by seven.

You silently say a quick “thank you prayer” that you don’t have classes on Wednesdays. Taking a day off of school during exam season is a whole death wish. But with how things are progressing, you’re not sure if you can even go tomorrow without getting 9-1-1 called.

You open your phone, groaning again as the light messes with your headache, but reading who the message is from still causes a weak smile to take form on your face.

—

new message from “linoo❤️🐰”

linoo❤️🐰: Good morning y/n.

linoo❤️🐰: Are you feeling better?

linoo❤️🐰 : I know you don’t have classes today, so you should take it easy.

linoo❤️🐰 : If you want to call or need me to come over, tell me. You know I won’t mind.

you : hey, I just woke up❤️ im fine though.

he texts back within less than a minute

linoo❤️🐰 : your symptoms are gone?

you : well no… they’re worse. but I’m fine !! i promise

linoo❤️🐰 : you’ll call me if it gets worse right?

you : yes :) I promise

linoo❤️🐰 : okay, have a good day. I love you

you : I love you 2 !!

—

You sigh as you place your phone down, mentally deciding to go take a shower. Surely that’ll fix the headache right?

Your head spins as you get out of bed, the world looking blurry and dizzy with specs of gray. It’s hard to walk.

“How the actual fuck did it get this bad so quickly?” You mumble to yourself, stumbling towards the bathroom and turning on the water.

The steam helps a little bit with the tension in your head and the congestion of your nose, but it’s not doing much. Atleast not as much as you need. Your throat was still burning for some relief, and the dizziness hasn’t stopped either. You’re thinking if it gets any worse, you’re probably going to have to go to the hospital.

The shower itself helps a little bit more with alleviating the pain, the warm water cascading down your skin and warming it up inside. But you can still feel it.

You can still feel the pounding of the headache you swear is forming into a migraine practically tearing your head apart, your throat is still screaming you for something warm, and to make matters worse, you think you’re developing nausea too.

Yup, definitely the flu

The flu never stopped anyone though, and midterms are still right around the corner. So with a dry cough and constant sneeze, you were popping advil, and taking a seat at your desk.

“A little sickness can’t me from doing this” you thought to yourself, but it was much harder than you thought.

Suddenly the sun had already set. The moonlight creeps its way inside through the slits in the blinds, but you hadn’t seemed to notice. You didn’t notice the way your eyes were blurred with unshed tears either. Your mind was absolutely buried in the thought of midterms.

I’m not prepared. Im going to fail. I’m a disappointment. I’m so useless, one fucking cough and I end up like this? I don’t even know why I try anym-

“Y/n!” Minho’s voice cuts through the mess swirling through your brain. You look over to where the voice came from and you swear you can see his face crumble the moment he looks at you.

To be fair, you hadn’t looked in the mirror since you took your shower in the morning, but Minho saw something different. He saw disheveled hair, droopy and tired eyes, beads of sweat drooping down your shivering body, and most importantly, tears.

“You told me you would call me if it got worse.” He bitterly spoke, and you felt that cut right through your heart. “I-It didn’t. I’m fine min-“ but he’s cutting you off immediately.

“You’re not fine y/n. You’re literally crying!” He booms, and you can’t help but feel extremely guilty. “Have you ate today? Or at least took medicine?!”

“Uhm, once at like n-nine. Look min I’m sorry! I’m so sorry for not calling you when I was supposed to. B-but my studying. If I stop, I’m not going to make it. I can’t fail min.”

His expression softens at your admission, eyebrows de-furrowing and eyes being replaced by compassion instead of anger and hurt as he walks closer towards you.

“Baby, you don’t need to push yourself so hard. I get it, I love that you want to study. But baby, is it really worth your life?”

Crack

“I know it means a lot, but so do you and your mental health. You can’t push yourself this hard and expect good results. You need to rest.”

Crack

“I love you so much. I can’t stand seeing you like this. Please let me take care of you okay? That’s all I want to do for you love.”

Shatter

You’re sobbing all of a sudden, burrowing your head in his sweatshirt as tears pour as of your eyes like faucets. It’s making your head hurt more, but you didn’t care. You just needed him.

He let you stay there for a while, he knew you needed it. He shushed the small sorries coming out of your mouth, telling you that you didn’t need to apologize. He only pulled you away when you calmed down completely.

“I’m going to get the thermometer. Stay here, my baby.” and he’s off to grab the thermometer you kept on hand from one of the cabinets in the bathroom, coming back with a concerned look on his face.

He quickly rubbed the thermometer along your forehead, reading out your temperature with a sharp ‘beep!’

“101 degrees.” He sighed. “Baby, if this gets any worse, you’re going to have to go to the hospital.”

Your breath hitches and tears spring to your eyes again, which Minho notices immediately.

“Hey, look at me.” He says, using his pointer finger to make you face him. “I’m not going to let that happen. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure you feel better okay?”

You nod along, resting your body back into his comforting arms as he massages your tense shoulders. He’s whispering small praises as he does this, and you swear you can feel your headache dissipating slowly.

While even though it’s going to be a while before you’re completely better, or even a little bit, you knew with him, it would all be okay.

As long as you have him taking care of you, comforting you, and loving you, you know you’ll be okay.

back to masterlist

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Eddie Munson x fem!reader requested by anon 18+

Eddie loved his job. He loved sitting amongst the noise of the record shop, loved showing customers music, old music, his favourite music. He loved that he didn’t have to spend every night doing runs in the van, meeting up with shady characters in the dark parts of town, taking up the time he should’ve been spending with you. 

He also loved that Magic Records' door was next to a shop that was dimly lit, a pink glow coming from the inside, velvet curtains in the windows and mannequins dressed in pretty lingerie. He also loved what that store kept on the back shelves. But every time he tried to coax you in after you met him during his lunch, you squeaked and backed away, too shy to even look at the sign above the door. 

‘Satin and Lace.’

Eddie didn’t push, he would never. He didn’t laugh or make jokes, but he did ask if it was something you were interested in. A toy, maybe? Something small and discreet you could play around with. Eddie was the be all and end of all when it came to your sexual experiences and as happy as the boy was with that, he was eager to bring you out of your shell a little - if you’d let him. 

So one day, when you were sitting in the front of his van with him, sharing a sub and some cherry coke, he asked if you’d be okay with him picking you something out. A gift, a surprise, as much a treat for him as it would be for you. And you’d nodded, cheeks hot to the touch and eyes on your lap, because as long as you didn’t have to walk through the doors of Hawkins most scandalous shop, you’d be fine with whatever. 

Eddie hadn’t shown you what he purchased, in fact, he hadn’t said a word about it. But you’d seen him come home with a little red bag almost five days ago and nothing had come of it. Maybe he’d changed his mind, maybe he’d forgotten. And it had taken until he had you in just his shirt, stripped from the waist down and in his bed until you had the courage to ask. 

He was hovering over you, careful not to crush you with his weight, kissing a line across your neck as his fingers slid in and out of you. He’d worked you up to take two, a slow build that felt like the start of summer, heat rolling over your skin as he sucked a bruise onto your throat, curled his fingers just right and stretched you open on them. It made you whine, clutching at his bare shoulders with your eyes clenched tight. 

You couldn’t help it. Your mind was set on his teasing, how good he felt, it was wandering to dirty places, filthy thoughts that you usually were too shy to say aloud but Eddie whispered your name into your skin and it made you arch your hips, seeking more. 

“Eddie?” You said his name in a soft sigh, like you were praising him more than asking a question. But when you tugged gently at his curls, Eddie moved back a little and peered down at you, concerned. “S’okay, I’m fine,” you promised before he could ask, before he dared take his fingers from between your thighs. “I was just— was just wondering? If you… if you ever…”

Maybe Eddie knew what you were going to ask, because he smiled, dimples and all as he pushed his fingers back into you, the slick there making obscene noises. You cried out for him, momentarily distracted before the boy was nosing at your cheek and asking, “wondering what, sweetheart?”

“Oh fuck,” you swore and Eddie grinned, always pleased when you let go like this, letting yourself say words you’d normally scold him for. “I was wondering - ohmygod - if you, if you bought… that thing?”

Eddie thought about teasing you, about dragging it all out and making you say it, making you ask for it. But he looked down at the way you were staring back at him so earnestly, brows drawn together from pleasure, lips swollen and pouty from the way he’d kissed you until you were sliding off your own shorts. So he smiled and nodded instead, ducking down to press a sweet peck to your lips for being confident enough to ask. 

He hushed you as he slid his fingers from your entrance, soothing the emptiness away with a thumb on your thigh as he reached over to his bedside table drawer and pulled out a small, silver device. Much smaller than you’d imagined, bullet shaped and with a button on the end. You felt relief looking at it, even though you knew Eddie wouldn’t have bought anything that would have made you nervous. But still, your stomach flipped when the boy handed it to you. 

“What do I do with it?” You asked shyly, feeling nothing short of small at having to ask. This wasn’t your forte. “I don’t know—”

“Hey, babe, baby,” Eddie eased your impending panic by moving back down to you, cotton sweatpants tented at the front as he leaned into the cradle of your hips but his kisses on your cheek were nothing short of sweet. “S’alright, yeah? Look,” he took the bullet from you and pressed the button, the little toy buzzing to life. “You just do what feels good, yeah?”

You tensed up as Eddie brought it to your chest, skimming it over a nipple that was hidden under his Metallica logo. You jerked slightly at the sensation, eyes wide and Eddie beamed. “How’s that feel?”

You nodded, lashes fluttering and sucked in a breath. “More powerful than I thought,” you laughed weakly and Eddie joined in. 

He moved it down your sternum, down the line of your tummy and over your belly button, watching you intently as he pressed it to your folds, but avoided your clit. You whined, back arching up for him. “There’s my girl, hm? That feels good, huh, baby?”

You nodded again and lost yourself to the vibrations, the intense buzz across your skin that Eddie moved over your cunt, dipping into your slick to slide across your entrance. You moved your hips with him, gasping , making pretty little noises that Eddie wanted to bottle up and keep. You were clinging to him, writhing in his sheets under him and he let his head fall down so he could watch the way you spread your legs more, chasing his touch. 

“Fuckin’ Christ, sweetheart, that’s so fuckin’ hot.” Eddie sat back on his knees, unable to help the way he palmed at himself, grabbing and squeezing his  cock through his sweats. “Here baby, you try, yeah? I’ll help you, s’okay, don’t worry.”

Eddie handed you back the toy, still buzzing but now between two of your fingers. The boy was patient as you eyed it carefully before bringing it back between your legs. Instinctively, you pressed it against your clit, barely there touch that immediately had you tensing up and crying out. Your mind went a little hazy, your free hand reaching out blindly for your boyfriend as you squeezed your eyes shut. Eddie’s fingers found yours and he cooed at you softly, guiding your palm to tangle into his hair and he brought himself closer between your knees. 

“Oh, shit, I know, I know,” Eddie whispered. He sounded as wrecked as you felt. “M’gonna make it even better, baby, ‘kay? Just want you to lie there and play with that pretty pussy like a good girl. Can you do that for me?”

You nodded weakly as you pressed the bullet closer to your clit, hips bucking against it, searching for Eddie’s touch. His fingers slid against you, hissing at the new wetness there, slick and crying out for his attention. Easier than ever, he pushed two thick fingers back inside of you, starting a slow drag in and out that made you see stars. 

“I’m gonna come,” you choked out, an immediate reaction to him filling you up. “Ohmygod, Eddie—”

Eddie went back into Satin and Lace the next day with a box of chocolates for the surprised assistant behind the counter. 

[morganski-19]

part 1, part 2

Dustin visits the next day, sitting next to Wayne with the same book he’s had for the past few days. Turning to the page that was dog-eared, reading. Voices and all. Just like Eddie does when he’s practicing for one of those campaigns. Claiming that it’s better to get it down with someone else’s words so he can improvise. So he doesn’t have to memorize some script and can be in the moment. Let his mind do the workings along with the players. 

It’s one of the many parts of Eddie that Wayne sees in this kid. The dramatics, the drive. The snobbiness about certain things that don’t really matter to the rest of the world. But it matters to them, so it matters to the people who care about them too. 

If Eddie were awake, he might yell at the kid for turning the corner of a page instead of using a bookmark. Even though all the books he gets are second-hand and already torn and bent in all sorts of ways. But it’s about keeping the art pristine. The author put their heart and soul into this work, it’s not meant to be sullied. Wayne saw Eddie bend the corner of a page a million times over though, he just likes making a big stink about nothing. Just to get a rise out of people, make them laugh. Wayne can imagine that Eddie liked to make Dustin laugh a lot. 

“Have the doctors said anything new?” Dustin asks after finishing the chapter. 

Wayne shakes his head. “Same old, same old. Don’t worry about it too much though, he wouldn’t want you to.”

“He wouldn’t want a lot of the things that happened over the past week. So he’ll have to deal with it.” After a pause, he asks, “How are you doing?”

That makes Wayne laugh. “You don’t have to go worryin’ about me either. You’re just a kid.”

“And you’re just a man waiting for your kid to wake up. The same way I’m waiting for my friend to wake up. At the end of the day, we’re all still people. That sometimes need a break. So, how are you doing?”

It’s scary how much Wayne sees Eddie in this kid. “It’s hard comin’ here to hear the same thing every day.” That’s all Wayne’s willing to say to a kid. 

Hard is definitely a word most people would use to describe his situation. Difficult, disheartening. Maybe even hopeless. But there’s still some hope in this old heart that keeps Wayne coming back day in and day out. Keeps him moving while only getting a few hours of sleep a day. Cause as soon as the night comes around, it’s right back to the plant. Making the money to pay for the care his boy needs to keep living. To pay for the roof over his own head enough so he’ll live to see it happen. 

Truth is, Wayne’s dying here. From the fatigue. From the endless waiting. From the slowly draining pool of hope. Nothing seems to change. Nothing gets better. Six days in a medically induced coma with no hopes of ever waking up. Wayne’s not dumb enough to think that the chances increase the more days pass without him showing any signs of improvement. 

Part of him says that this is the state Eddie will be in for the rest of his life. Wonders if it’s worth all of this just to keep him alive. If he’s really suffering in there and would be better off resting forever. But then the heart monitor keeps beeping and his brain is still active. Wayne’s boy is still in there, he’ll come back soon. 

“Yeah, I bet that’s hard. I still have hope though, I was there when he came in. He looks a lot better now.”

There’s a knock on the door that keeps Wayne from responding. It’s the Harrington boy, in normal clothes this time. Discharged. 

“Sorry to interrupt but your mom said it’s time to go home.”

Dustin dramatically rolls his eyes. “Which one, my actual mother or you?”

“Your actual mother, but I happen to agree with her. Come on, you got school in the morning.” Harrington crosses his arms, looking like he’s ready to start a standoff. 

But instead of fighting Dustin stands. “Have a good night Mr. Munson. I’ll still try to visit as much as I can even though school’s starting back up again.”

“Thanks, kid, I’ll try.”

Harrington ruffles Dustin’s hair as he walks out the doorway. Standing there for a beat before turning back to Wayne. “We’ve never officially met, I’m Steve.”

Steve holds out his hand, waiting for Wayne to shake it. Wayne debates whether that’s a good idea or not. Apparently, it takes too long as Steve returns his hand to his side. 

“I wanted to apologize for the scene I made the other day, you didn’t deserve that. I was just so shocked that they actually cuffed him to the bed. Still have him cuffed to the bed.” Steve looks at Eddie with a guilt that Wayne doesn’t understand. Like he’s the reason Eddie’s strapped to the bed. 

Wayne continues to say nothing, not quite sure what would be appropriate. Tell him that it’s ok, that it didn’t bother him. Or thank him for believing that Wayne knew was true. That his boy was innocent. 

There was more to this story than he knew. Something to do with the kid being there and the rich boy standing in the doorway looking like this is all his fault. When Wayne knows the same scars mark Steve just as much as they do Eddie. Steve made sure that everyone knew that. Using it as proof that Steve was there, and that Eddie was innocent. 

Steve was ready to offer himself up as a witness for a man that the town hates. Wayne should be grateful for that, but it doesn’t seem right. They were part of different worlds. Different status, interests. It didn’t make sense for them to be in the same place at all. Yet here they are supposedly having gone through the same vicious attack. 

“Let me know if you need anything,” Steve continues when Wayne stays silent. “I’m more than happy to help out. Eddie was kind of a new friend and I hate seeing him like this as much as you do.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Wayne snaps. He hates charity, especially from this kid. For some reason he doesn’t really understand why. 

Steve is taken aback. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

“I’m sure you didn’t, but you did. I know my boy and I know how my boy thinks about people like you. So don’t go ‘round gaining sympathy points from the real people who are suffering.”

“I, I wasn’t,” Steve stammers. “I would never.”

“Steve,” Dustin yells. “Get your ass moving, we’re your ride too.”

Steve sighs. “Coming, Jesus. I’m sorry for offending you. I won’t bother you again.”

Wayne shakes his head when Steve leaves, letting out a deep sigh. Maybe he was too harsh, maybe he wasn’t harsh enough. He’s not sure. 

He’s not sure about a lot of things anymore.

part 4

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[tongue-like-a-razor]

hangman request incoming ‼️‼️

so the reader is best friends w rooster and whenever she’s around hangman he’s always quite rude to her, only bc he’s harbouring huge feelings for her which he isn’t very used to. then maybe he goes too far and rooster needs to talk some sense into him (reader could be a pilot or just a close friend of rooster’s)

SORRY i’m not great and giving requests but i hope there’s something in there that you like !

Ahhhh I LOVE this request!! And I really loved writing this piece, which may or may not turn into a series.. oops I couldn't resist haha

Less Talk | Part I

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Summary: Jake can't stand Bradley's best friend. What's more, he's probably in love with her, which really pisses him off.

CW: mild angst, Hangman being a dick aka Hangman being himself, unresolved sexual tension, swearing, drinking

Masterlist

“Do you ever not have an opinion?” Jake watches you irritably before taking a long swig of his drink. He needs the alcohol to calm his nerves so that he doesn’t inadvertently push you off your chair.

You glare at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? A nice, safe space for Seresin to dominate the conversation without opposition.”

Jake lets out a steady breath. No one riles him quite like you do. “We’re talking about food, Y/N. It doesn’t exactly have global ramifications.”

“Actually, it does,” you respond matter-of-factly. “And are you saying I shouldn’t have an opinion unless it is ground-breaking in nature? Maybe I should just sit here quietly and look pretty.”

“Ha!” Jake cackles. “I would love to see you try.”

“Hangman!” Bradley, who’s sitting to your right, gives him a disapproving look.

You make a grimace. “I will never give you that kind of satisfaction.”

Jake meets your gaze with a hostile look. The thought of you satisfying him in any way sort of disorients him. He makes a face at you because he can’t deny that if you were to just sit there in silence, you would be exceptionally pleasant to look at. Pretty, even… maybe. Instead, he says, “How the fuck does eating avocado toast for lunch have global implications? I would love to know.”

“The recent surge in consumption of avocados - thanks to health nuts such as yourself - has led to an unprecedented increase in price to the point where those people whose culinary staple for generations has been the avocado cannot afford to keep it their diet.” You fold your arms over your chest to drive your point home while Jake just stares at you, speechless. No other woman in the world has ever rendered him that. He glances over at Bradley who is looking back at him with a slight grin. Just when Jake thinks you might be all talked out, you add, “And don’t even get me started on the environmental burden of growing enough avocados to sustain the whole of North America’s health culture.”

Jake blinks at you. “Trust me, I wasn’t planning on it.”

“The avocado trade is contributing to local violence and extortion” – you continue, but Jake cuts you off.

“Okay, okay!” he says. “I’ll never eat an avocado again.”

“Just quit spreading your avocado propaganda!”

“It’s not propaganda! They’re actually good for you!”

“How wonderful it must be living in a world where your needs come before everybody else’s,” you say bitterly.

“Can we please talk about something other than avocados?” he says tiredly, his eyes sliding to Bradley in a plea for assistance.

“If you’re looking for a topic on which I do not have an opinion” – you say, but Jake interrupts you again.

“Does such a topic exist?” he asks flatly.

You roll your eyes at him. “Did you ever think that maybe you’re the one who should talk less?”

Jake nods. “Certainly. I should talk less to you. Because you’re driving me crazy, lady.” He stands up after having downed the rest of his drink. “I’m getting another beer and, when I return, I’m going to have a conversation with my good friend here, Rooster.”

Bradley shakes his head and looks over at you. “Don’t mind him, he’s just a bitter, bitter man.”

“A bitter man who needs to be schooled on occasion,” you mutter.

Jake turns to look at you with wide eyes. He slides back into his seat. “I heard that,” he says dangerously, inclining into the table.

“Good,” you respond, leaning forward so that your noses are nearly touching. “You were meant to.”

“You are so fucking annoying,” he whispers, his eyes slipping momentarily to your mouth as you lick your lips.

“Hangman, come on, don’t be a dick,” Bradley says, also putting his weight into the table in an attempt to intervene.

Jake’s eyes are still scanning your face as you glare at him without moving away. The truth is, he could probably listen to you talk about the problematic export of Mexican avocados for hours just to watch your mouth move and to hear the passion in your voice. But he’s tired of the tunnel vision he experiences every time your boyfriend ditches you and you end up going out with your best friend, Bradley Bradshaw. This is the fifth time this month that you’ve accompanied Rooster to ‘guys’ night out’ and it’s becoming more and more difficult for Jake to shake you after each successive evening of relentless verbal sparring.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jake can see Bradley slowly inching off the table, having realized that he may be a third wheel. But Jake doesn’t need him to be some sort of wingman in this bizarre scenario where he may or may not be completely in love with an unavailable woman who happens to be an expert at pushing all his goddamn buttons. Normally, he would remedy this kind of matter with a good old romp in the hay but, considering the fact that you are in a relationship, this option is, unfortunately, off the table. Besides, he’s not entirely sure it wouldn’t have the opposite effect on him, anyway.

But, despite all the reasons for avoiding your pull, Jake can’t look away, not even for a second; not even to get another beer. He moves his face a millimeter closer to yours, just to see what would happen; not because your breath smells like Peach Schnapps and not because your eyes are absolutely destabilizing him. His nose is about a split second away from brushing yours when your phone buzzes on the table. You flinch, withdrawing immediately, leaving Jake to watch you try to frantically pick it up. You shoot him one last intimidating look before rising from the table.

“Hey, babe,” he hears you say as you walk away.

“What’s your deal, man?” Bradley says as Jake watches you step outside.

Jake shakes his head solemnly. “Doesn’t she have other friends to play with?” he asks. “Why’re you always babysitting her?”

Bradley fixes Jake with a knowing look. “Hangman,” he says with a suggestive squint to his eye. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

Jake stares at Bradley. “Yeah,” he says. “I want to tell you that your bestie is a pain in the ass, Rooster.”

Bradley’s jaw hardens. “You’re way out of line.”

“Come on, I can’t be the only one who finds her absolutely infuriating. The girl never shuts up!”

Bradley narrows his eyes. “And you don’t, at all, find that sort of thing attractive?” he says sarcastically.

“Attractive? I find it immensely aggravating, actually.”

“So aggravating that you argue right back every time,” Bradley points out with a smirk. “Movies, books, social constructs. Last week, I heard you guys bickering about space waste. What do you even know about space?”

“What does she know about space?” Jake responds angrily, pointing toward the door with his entire arm.

Bradley leans back in his seat with a sigh. “I know that you don’t actually hate her, Jake,” he says. “You can stop pretending.”

“Who’s pretending?” Jake looks up at him aggressively.

Bradley purses his lips. “What if I told you that her boyfriend is a shithead?”

Jake’s jaw tightens but he continues to stare at Bradley coldly. “Why the fuck would I care?” he says.

Bradley returns his callous expression before looking away. “Been trying to get her out of that relationship for months.”

Jake lets out a sigh. “She’s a grown-ass woman, she can decide for herself if she wants to end it.”

Bradley nods. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Jake rises from his seat, his eyes unintentionally drifting up to check if you’re still outside. He sees you pacing back and forth through the big window of the bar. You look like you’re arguing. Big surprise. “Want another beer?” he asks Bradley.

“Please,” Bradley says.

Jake nods at the cocktail you’ve been drinking. “She going to have another one?”

Bradley shrugs. “Probably, unless you’ve pissed her off enough that she decides to leave early.”

Jake scoffs. “She’d be doing me a favor.”

Bradley shakes his head with a laugh. “I don’t even know what she’s drinking, man.”

Jake shifts his jaw. “I do.”

Bradley gives him another piercing look. “Shocking,” he says with a smirk.

“Shut the fuck up, Bradshaw,” Jake says under his breath as he walks away. He glances back at the window behind which you’re now waving your arm around aggressively and yelling into the phone. He tears his gaze away from you, frustrated with himself for even giving a damn.

For some reason, he feels a painful pang in his chest, like he’s jealous of whomever it is you’re tearing into. You’ve never gone off on him quite like that and he can’t help the resentment this fosters. He tries to suppress the impulse to go out after you and rip your stupid phone right out of your hand. That would surely reclaim at least a fraction of your attention. Then maybe he could do something unexpected; something that might persuade you to channel your passion in a more constructive way.

He orders three drinks and walks back to the table with the beers before going back for your cocktail. When he returns, he exhales sharply, giving Bradley a humorless look. “Why’s her boyfriend a shithead?” he says, feeling his hands forming into fists before Bradley even has a chance to respond.

But, right when Bradley’s about to speak, you walk back into the bar.

Read Part 2

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this piece! It's my first Hangman story, so let me know what you think!

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[cod-fishing]

Thinking about Price being possessive over his boys. Not romantically or sexually (he likes to tell himself), but any time Soap starts chatting about some bear he met in a bar during leave, or Gaz mentions a girl who gave him her number, he can feel himself bristle. He tries to bury it, but it only gets worse after Las Almas, their bonds forged in far too much blood, and he struggles to bite down discouragement for any connection outside their little family.

When soap and ghost finally get together, he can’t figure out which of them he wants to throttle, but the sensation is intense nonetheless. Enough that he can’t stop himself from ordering them to his office and dressing them down so meticulously his old drill Sargent would be proud. They both look defiant. At perfect attention, military perfect in their stance, but fire in both of their eyes. It’s only when Soap, jaw clenched, demands if Price is going to transfer them that the Captain falters.

He sits heavy into his chair, and orders his boys at ease.

“I could never let go of either of you,” he finds himself gritting out through cigar smoke and choking emotions, far too unfiltered, “I just don’t want you boys to get hurt.”

He sees them soften, understanding. Not expecting a real answer, Price asks them their intentions with one another. He doesn’t want either of them to hurt the other, and while he knows they both have hearts of gold, they’ve got a lot of thorns as well. But they talk, and Soap is his usual genuine self and Ghost- Simon, really - is more honest and open than Price has seen him be ever, so…

He says okay. But keep me updated, he says. The good and the bad. They nod, and he assumes he’ll have to pry information out of them, and they move on.

Miraculously, they do keep him updated. Soap comes knocking one day, and Price asks about those reports he sent him off with and Soap says, aye, captain, got those for you, but ah…can I tell you something sweet Ghost did for me today? He’s bursting with joy when Price looks at him properly, and how can he say no to that?

Ghost, too, comes in one day, and asks to speak with the captain. Need some advice, sir. Johnny wants to take me home to his family for the holidays and I’m feeling real conflicted, he says. And they talk it out, fingers playing with the rims of their whiskey glasses. Price gets this feeling in his chest, likes he wants to reach out and trace his fingers somewhere else, but he ignores it.

It keeps happening that way, Price getting deeper and deeper in their relationship. He knows everything about the two together - almost everything. Ghost is on a solo mission one day and soap is moping, and so price pulls him into his office with the intention of getting him plastered and making him go to bed.

Instead, Johnny gets talkative. He should have known.

“God, Price, you wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mouth. His fingers, too, lord knows where he learned it, but it’s like he took a fucking class on making me cum just from the teasing alone.”

“You’ve heard his voice captain, I mean no wonder I was creaming my pants to be with him so bad, and boy was I right. Downright evil how good it sounds during and early morning shag.”

And, even worse than all that, somehow…

“Well you know me, I like to be the best. So I told him we should start training my throat, so I can actually take his monster cock, the bastard. Did pass out the first time but we’ve been taking it slowly but surely ever since.”

And Price just…he should shut him up, but instead, he just takes it. Just lets the lad ramble about his love, like some lass back at home pinning for her deployed soldier. He hates it, he hates it, he tells himself. But he takes it for Johnny, and for Simon, and for the trust they have put in him.

And when he fists his cock in his quarters later that night, aching from being hard for so long, he can’t help but picture all those filthy things Soap told him.

Maybe, all this time, he was just jealous.

[happeehippie]

could you do something with joe based on obsessed by olivia rodrigo?

obsessed. || joe burrow

(this is my first time doing something that’s writing instead of social media, and it’s longer than expected. i hope you enjoy.)

*if i told you how much i think about her, you’d think i was in love. *

I’m not typically an insecure person by any means, but when it comes to her I can’t help myself. When Joe and I first started dating everyone online made sure I knew that they wanted it to be her. That they were rooting for the downfall of our relationship because they believed he was meant to be with someone else. It took a huge toll on my mental health in the beginning. And as much as I like to pretend I don’t think about it, it’s never gone away. I compare myself to her at every turn, think about her often, curious if he thinks about her also..

*i’m so obsessed with your ex, i know she’s been asleep on my side of your bed.*

Joe and I had been dating for a while and he finally asked me to move in. I was ecstatic, spending every single day with the person I love sounded like a dream. No one could take the smile off my face, except her. Joe had told me to use the bedside table for some of my things, he told me to make myself at home because that’s what this place is now. I opened the drawer and found a peppermint chapstick and some lightly salted almonds.

“Hey babe?” I say loud enough for Joe to hear me from the ensuite bathroom.

“What’s up?” He pokes his head out of the door, toothbrush dangling out of his mouth.

“I was just wondering what I should do with these? I’m assuming they don’t belong to you..” I mumble, I didn’t even have to listen to his answer, I knew who’s they were.

“Uh.” Joe is frozen speechless for a moment before recovering, “Yeah, babe just toss them in the trash.”

He turns back to the sink to finish his nighttime routine and I sit there lost in my thoughts. I don’t want to think about her, I don’t want to think about the love he had before me because it’s over for a reason. But knowing that she has slept on this side of the bed that we now share is doing something detrimental to my brain. When Joe steps out of the bathroom it doesn’t take him long to notice the look on my face and the items still lingering in my hands. He walks over and gently opens my fingers to take them and toss them in the trash. When he comes back he tilts up my chin to look me in the eyes..

“I’m sorry, I should’ve checked everything before you got here. You didn’t need to see that.”

“No, it’s fine. I just wasn’t really expecting that I guess.”

“It’s in the past, I don’t care about that anymore. I always hated when she was crunching on almonds at bedtime anyway.”

We both laugh as he places a gentle kiss on my forehead.

*I’m starin’ at her like I wanna get hurt. And I remember every detail you have ever told me.*

She wasn’t supposed to be here. Joe promised me that she hadn’t RSVP’d and she wasn’t on the guest list, but here she is. Sitting across from me in all her glory, She is laughing with people I’ve never met and I’m reminded that I’m new here. I’m reminded that they had a whole life together before I came along, a life that included most everyone here. I’ve convinced myself people are staring. Do they want me gone just like everyone else? Do they think Joe would be better off getting back together with her? He told me once that they always had fun at weddings, he said things were good between them when everyone else was around. He said she smiled more and didn’t pay as much attention to the small things when there was so much going on around them. That she was always daydreaming about what they’d have one day and the tension would dissipate for a few hours. I wonder if she’s wishing she was here with him. She looks up and a huge smile spreads across her face, for a moment I think she’s smiling at me, then I realize that Joe is coming up behind me. For some reason that makes me sick to my stomach, that she’s smiling at him like that. He gives her a small wave before turning his attention to me.

“Would you dance with me? Please?” He adds at the end with his puppy dog eyes. I can’t say no. He takes me by the hand and leads me out onto the floor. “Have I told you how beautiful you look in this dress?” He whispers as he pulls me close.

“A few times. But I’m not tired of hearing it.” I laugh

“Well you do, I’ve barely been able to take my eyes off you. Everyone loves you, they’re stoked that you decided to come.” That Insecure part of me pokes it’s head out again. Do you mean it? I want to ask but that’s not what comes out.

“Are you just saying that so I don’t freak out later?”

“No. I’m saying it because it’s true.” I give him a pointed look, “And so that you don’t leave and over analyze everything you’ve done tonight.” He laughs, leaning in giving me a gentle kiss. Out of the corner of my eye I see her looking over at us and I feel like smiling because I realize.. he hasn’t looked away from me once.

*She’s got those lips, she’s got those hips the life of every fuckin’ party. She’s talented, she’s good with kids she even speaks kindly about me.*

Torture. That’s what this feels like. It’s Sam’s birthday today and he’s having a huge get together. She’s here, dancing with some of the other WAGs. Joe always said she was the life of the party, I wish I could hate her. I’m still trying to recover from the sickening feeling of watching Joe’s nephews run into her arms as they walked in when Jess approaches me.

“You’ve been staring.” She simply states.

“I know. I can’t help it.” I huff out a sigh, finally taking my eyes off the shiny bright light prancing around in the middle of the room.

“Maybe you should speak to her, she’s really great.” Bile rises in my throat at the thought of that encounter.

“That’s the problem.”

“She thinks you’re wonderful,” She doesn’t know me is what runs through my mind, “She’s glad that you and Joe are together. She wants him to be happy, and anyone can see he’s happy with you.”

“I wish that made me feel better.” I finish the rest of my drink and step out onto the lawn for some fresh air.

*I know you love me, and I know it’s crazy.*

I haven’t said a word since we left the party. Joe keeps looking over at me like I could explode any second, I can see his hand twitching like he wants to reach out and touch me but convinces himself otherwise. After several excruciating minutes he speaks up.

“Tell me what you’re thinking about.” He whispers, his voice gravely from sitting in silence.

“I don’t think you want to know what I’ve been thinking about Joey.”

“I think I already know. I just wish you’d talk to me about it. Instead of keeping it bottled up inside.” At this point we are pulling into the garage but neither of us makes a move to get out of the vehicle.

“Do you think about her? When we go to things like that do you miss her?” My voice is barely above a whisper and I’m holding my breath, I know he loves me. I’ve never doubted that. I think I just need to hear him say that he’s choosing me.

“I don’t.” He sounds so sure of himself, like this is the easiest question in the world, “I think about you. Every second of every day. When I go to things like that I watch you, I get excited when I see you with the people I care about, and when you’re not there, I miss you.” He takes my hand and squeezes it three times.

“They all love her.”

“And I love you. Hey, look at me.” I tilt my chin so that I can see him, “No more of this crazy talk okay? I love you, I want you, and I don’t like the idea of you comparing yourself to anyone else. You’re one of a kind.” I know. I know. I know.

“I think I just needed to hear you say it.” I give a small smile, “I promise.. no more obsessing over your ex.”

[prncssie]

it’s completely normal to have a disagreement with your boyfriend but hobie cannot understand why you’d resort to the silent treatment.

caution! mdni 4.5k wrdz, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral ( r. receiving ), fingering ( r. receiving ) pet names, gwen makes an appearance, hobie smokes weed reference, partially unedited pls do not spam like my blog if you enjoyed it, feel free to tell me in the reblogs

you’re not entirely sure how it happened. or rather, you’re just not ready to admit it, yet. you suppose it really started before you met up with hobie, having woke up on the wrong side of the bed.

everything pissed you off today. the way the outfit you planned looked terrible on you, showing up late to class, getting yelled at by customers at work. every event just piled right on top of each other and made you feel a thousand times worse.

you only made it halfway through the day before a grimace etched itself on your face and your words became short and curt.

the cherry on top was when you planned to lay in the comfort of your bed, only to find yourself whisked away to hobie’s houseboat.

he seemed so happy with his proposition for you to meet a friend of his who just happened to be in town. you couldn’t say no despite so desperately wanting to. when would there ever be a chance that his friend would be back and he’d be this happy to tell you?

and with your terrible mood, your usual demeanor was replaced with something much colder. instead of engaging in the conversation between hobie and gwen, you sit silently in the corner.

your knees are pulled into your chest and you fiddle with the seams of your socks. each sonorous laugh has your teeth grinding. you haven’t uttered much more than a few sentences, wondering when you’re going to be able to make your escape back home.

you miss hobie’s curious peeks. it’s so blaringly obvious that you’re not feeling like yourself. if your silence didn’t give it away, your lack of affection definitely did.

you didn’t squeeze him tight in a hug the moment he showed up at your door. there was no rambling of your day, no kisses and giggles that follow. all the usual bits he loves and look forward to never came and on top of that, he gets the odd feeling you’ve been avoiding his touch since you got there. it makes his stomach twist in knots.

“gwendy,” he says with his eyes darting towards you.

you’re oblivious, nails scraping against the divets and curves in the fabric of his small sofa.

“i’m off to get a drink. want somethin’?”

“i’m good. thanks, though, hobes.” gwen shakes her head with a smile. she’s also just as clueless. having this being her first time meeting you, she just assumes you’re always like this and there’s nothing wrong with being quiet, albeit the way you do it makes her feel a bit uncomfortable.

you press your lips into your knees to hide your scoff. “ ‘hobes’,” you mouth, picking at a thread. it’s such a minuscule detail, one that you’ve repeated overlooked in the past. never has it been anything but a friendly nickname but in your miffed state, it’s a sign of betrayal.

hobie doesn’t need a sixth sense to know there’s an obscure issue. he’s known you long enough to know when you’re irked and how he has to force it out of you.

for your sake and not wanting to draw attention to the situation, he strolls into the kitchen. his slides scrape against the floor. the sound is like nails on a chalkboard and has your face scrunching up.

with just you and gwen left, the silence is deafening. most of the conversation had been with hobie and nothing changed your unwillingness to talk. still, gwen felt the need to try. whether she wanted to relate to another girl or make a good impression is unknown.

“so . . . you and hobie, huh?”

you consider ignoring her but guilt blooms across your skin. even if your worst mood, a small remnant of your manners remain. not enough to make you pleasant, though. “mhm.” you hum, not bothering to look in her direction.

next to you, your phone vibrates to reveal a text. you sit up just enough to lean over it and the screen unlocks after recognizing your face. you’re not dumbfounded that it’s the topic of the conversation himself, requesting your presence.

at some point he’d say something, that you know. doesn’t exactly make you feel any better about it. “i’ll be back,” you mumble, legs unfolding until you’re standing.

you’re not looking forward to the upcoming conversations but you shuffle forward, regardless. your arms are already crossed when you stand in front of him. this is the first time you’re truly looking at him since you got here and your expression is so frigid.

“what’s up with you?” hobie leans against the counter, his arms crossed and mirroring yours. “been pissy all day.”

you know he’s seriously waiting for an answer when he’s unaffected by the eye rolls that follow. “nothing’s wrong. i’m not anything.”

“you’re really goin’ to stand there and tell me there’s nothin’ goin’ on when you’re actin’ like that? come out of it.”

you dodge his narrowing gaze by staring at the kitchen sink instead. your lips are pressed together and your thoughts move at a hundred miles an hour, searching for the perfect method to dissipate this conversation. “i’m fine. there’s nothing going on.”

“then that’s worse,” hobie eyes you down. it makes you feel small, the way his head is tilted and bordering a correctional glare. “then you’re jus’ being mean for no reason.”

“i’m not being mean. i just don’t feel like talking.” it’s not completely a lie. you don’t feel like talking, that’s true, but you’ve also purposefully been abhorrent so you’d have an excuse to leave.

he looks at you incredulously, scrambling to stand and motioning towards gwen’s direction. “you’re not being mean? so you haven’t said a word to gwen and barely two words to me because you ‘don’t feel like talking’.”

“yes. exactly.” you can already tell this isn’t going to end well. not with the way your chest burns with an angry fire. “that’s what i just said.”

hobie feels like he’s talking to a wall with the way you dismiss everything he says. “darlin’, i’m really, really trying not to cause a scene right now but you’re makin’ it harder than it needs to be.” with a hand on your shoulder, he guides you farther back into the kitchen. his patience is wavering, he can feel it. it’s becoming progressively more difficult to maintain his cool. “it doesn’t take fuckin’ einstein to know there’s somethin’ up.”

“you’re trying not to make a scene but you just cussed at me.” you grumble, dragging your feet until you’re stationed next to the glass door.

“i did not – ” he has to stop and take a breath, noticing the crescendo in his voice. “ ☆ , what is wrong with you? your mood is poor and you aren’t even speaking to gwen, which is the whole reason i wanted you to come.”

you glare off the porch, watching the water lap and crash against each other. between everything he said, all you got is he’s prioritizing another girl over you. in your spoiled brain, he should never be scolding you about this. “oh, i’m sorry if i’m making you and gwendy uncomfortable. maybe it would be best if i go.”

“do not do that.” he points at you, thumb facing the ceiling. “do not turn this into something it isn’t.” his restraint officially snapped, words dripping with venom. “everyone is being nothing but nice. you’re the only one here that has an issue. i only asked you what’s wrong because i care about you. stop acting like a – ” hobie pauses again, eyes closing in frustration. “whatever. i’m over it. do what you want.” he waves it off and turns on his heel. he would have considered that a win, had you not stopped him.

“no, say it. call me what you were going to call me.” you dart in front of him, hands on your hips. you should have stopped, let the argument vanish into nothing but you couldn’t help yourself. you had already committed yourself to it.

“just let it go.” hobie attempts to side step you, only for you to stand in front of him again. he has no interest in playing your games so he waits at a standstill. “i don’t want to hurt your feelings and i don’t want to argue. let it go, ☆ .”

“say it,” you insist. you have your head tilted up, basically pressed all up against him. you’re daring him, as if he won’t do it and you don’t expect him to. not once can you remember hobie ever calling you anything but endearing names.

he sucks his teeth and takes a step away from you. you’re unhinged, he decides. daily stress has finally gotten to you and you’ve gone off the rails. “i’m going to say this once and i mean this when i say it. you need to go the fuck home and get your shit together. honestly, love, this is unacceptable and i’m not takin’ this disrespect in my house.”

you wanted to go home. you wanted to go home a while before this but you wanted to go on your own accord. you weren’t supposed to go back and forth like this and he wasn’t supposed to kick you out. “you’re joking, right? hobie, you brought me here. how am i supposed to get home?”

it’s a well known fact that hobie prefers to take the unconventional routes. he’d rather swing than walk and walk than drive. even when it comes to you, he’s always willing to be your transportation so you aren’t driving or being driven around. so when he pulls out his phone and promptly sends you enough money to get an Uber, it truly cements how sincere he is. “go home, lovely. i’ll come by later and we can try this again.”

“ ‘bie,” you sniffle, eyes welling with tears. not only is he kicking you out but he’s also sending you home.

“go home,” he repeats. his parting gift is a pat on the head before he walks past you. you’re unsure whether or not he really saw how distraught you felt but you doubt it would make a difference.

you’re too embarrassed to show your face so you take the back way, exiting through the porch by the kitchen. you circle the boat until reaching the dock and step off, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

it’s unbelievable that your sweet, darling hobie would do this to you. granted, you deserved it and technically got what you wanted.

still, you can’t stop your tears from flowing the whole way home, even up through the lobby of your apartment and into your room. the warmth of your bed is just as you imagined, although now bittersweet.

your eyes are puffy and hurting. you fight the urge to let them close and scroll through your phone. most of the reasoning behind was to see if hobie would text you at all but your notifications remained empty. it stings more than you imagined. he’s always always texted you to make sure you’ve gotten in your room safely.

“whatever,” you toss your phone onto the other side of the bed and roll over. “i don’t need you. enjoy your date with gwendy, hoe.” you mumble into your pillow. you huff, pulling the covers up to your chin. if hobie wants to be like that then fine. he can do what he wants.

LINE BREAK

you stir awake to the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut. you’d be worried if the familiar smell of pine and weed didn’t fill the air. it’s subtle but you know him too well to be wrong.

you reach for your phone, feeling around in the bed until the cool glass meets your palm. the bright screen reads midnight and entirely too far past his normal arrival time.

“you stink,” you mumble when he gets into bed beside you. he has his own bed but he’s so accustomed to you and your warmth, hobie can’t help but make his way to wherever you are.

“don’t kill my high.” his gruff whisper fills your ear. he slips his arm between you and the mattress to pull you into his chest. “sent gwen off and came here. didn’t have time to enjoy it, yet.”

you purse your lips, flashbacks of earlier in the day coming flooding in. your nap nearly wiped all those memories away. he just said to bring it up, again. and right on cue —

“feelin’ better?” he splays his over your tummy and brushes his thumb back and forth along your skin. “we can talk about it, again.”

you don’t respond, too busy feeling crossed. it would be best to reopen the discussion now that your emotions aren’t running as high but you’re too petty to do that. hobie wronged you. he started an argument and kicked you out. he didn’t even check to see if you made it home safe.

“lovey? you okay?” he taps his fingers against you. maybe you fell asleep on him.

nothing.

hobie sits up. you can feel his weight shift as he peers over your body. your eyes are open and he can see you looking at him, you’re just not speaking. he raises a brow and pushes your shoulder over until you’re on your back with a clear view of each other. “do you hear me talkin’ to you or what?”

he’s peeved when you roll over without even acknowledging him. “absolutely fuckin’ not.” he pushes your shoulder down again and holds it there. “you givin’ me the silent treatment?”

you shrug.

you fucking shrug.

hobie considers himself a rational person. if he’s upset, he’ll talk about it. if he’s not ready to talk about it, he’ll let you know. if he notices you’re too upset to communicate efficiently, he’ll give you space. what he will not tolerate is bullshit like this. you’re ignoring him, purposefully not saying anything and he’s expected to take it?

“i’m talkin’ to you.” he squishes your cheeks is his hand until they pucker, eyes narrowed into slits. he doesn’t know what your problem is but he’s sure if you continue like this, he’ll snap the world in half.

you pull away from him, reeling your head back until it’s out of his grasp. with you’re newfound freedom, you roll over and tap your phone. it’s now half past midnight and you’re losing hours on sleep.

hobie watches, enraged, as you slide it beside your pillow and snuggle deeper into the comfort of your bed. he doesn’t move, still processing his emotions. what he wants to do is pull you into his lap and keep you up all night until you speak to him but he figures it just make you more irritable.

so he scoffs and lays back down beside you. “okay. throw your tantrum. we’ll talk in the morning.” he pulls you into his chest, regardless, fingers curling around your waist. his lips are pressed together and by your ear.

he’s hopeful that in the morning, this mood you’re in will pass. that’s the notion he holds on to while he drifts off into his slumber and the same one he wakes up to when he’s reaching for your missing body.

the sun is up and beaming through the sheer layer of curtains. you must have opened the blackout layer behind them. he can hear the shower water running to a stop. hobie rubs his eyes and pulls his arm over his head for a stretch.

it’s a bit odd, he thinks, that you’ve woken up without him. he doesn’t think you’ve rolled over and pressed soft kisses on his face until he’s waking. maybe you did and he went back to sleep.

his legs carry himself into the bathroom where you reside. he’s operating off your normal schedule, getting ready together. he’s surprised when he turns the handle, only for it to fall short. “the door is locked, sweetheart.”

hobie leans against the frame. he’s tall enough to take up the entirety of the space. his hand comes up to rub his face once before he realizes the amount of time that’s passing right now. he can hear you in there, hear the water in the sink running but you don’t open the door.

his first thought it maybe you just can’t open it right now.

he, however, comes to his second thought when you do open it and scroll right past him without one glance in his direction.

you’re still ignoring him.

“oi duck, here’s what’s going to happen.” hobie knows you’re listening when you pause, hand freezing at the lotion pump. “i’m going to go brush my teeth, yeah? and you’re going to get over this thing you’re in and when i come back, we’re going to sit down and talk about this like adults.”

what he doesn’t know is the insinuation you’re not acting like an adult sends you farther into you stubbornness. to be truthful, he’s not wrong. you’re only doing this to make a point, to stick it to him that you didn’t appreciate what he did to you

you scoff to yourself and have a seat at your vanity. “who does he think he is?” you mumble, unscrewing the lid to your toner. “telling me what i’m gonna do. i’ll talk when i want to.”

you can see him in the mirror. with the bathroom door wide open, you get a perfect view of him slowly turning his head towards you, toothbrush dangling from his mouth.

it dawns on you that he heard you when he’s hastily rinsing out his mouth. you jump to your feet so quickly, the chair nearly topples to the ground. you’re darting across the room on the way out.

you only make it halfway before a sticky web is wrapped around your waist and pulling you back to the center of the room.

“what’d you say, sweetheart?” hobie turns you around, hands planted firmly on your hips. his fingers dig into your skin as if ready to pull the answer out of you.

you persist with your silence even while your heart beats out of your chest. you avoid looking at him, instead staring at the the gleaming silver hoop pierced through his nose.

your refusal to say anything has him ticked off. you haven’t said a word to him since last night and the only time you’ve even acknowledged him is to talk shit.

hobie isn’t having that.

he doesn’t bother to ask you again. he picks you up easy, a hand wrapped around your waist. he considers himself to be patient, letting you have your fun. he didn’t say anything to you last night, he forgave you for trying to incite an argument, he was even giving you another chance and was willing to work through it.

it’s you who’s making it difficult, uncooperating like a unreasonable person. you won’t even tell him why. how is he supposed to mend the situation if he doesn’t know what the problem is?

“you’re pissin’ me off.” he drops you on the edge of the bed. his talk could be mistaken as directed towards you but in actuality, he’s ranting to himself. “so spoiled y’know? throwing a fit for no reason.”

you freeze when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your shorts. your instincts are screaming at you to whine and complain but your intransigency is too focused on making a point.

“i’m so gentle with you and you take me for granted. showed up mad and that’s my fault? should have just told me but that’s too much to ask.”

a sharp gasp is ripped from you when hobie rips your panties off you. the seams pop and snap under the stress of his rapid tug.

he pushes you back and down on the bed with a large hand on your chest. “to be frank, i don’t want to see you. i don’t want to hear you either unless you’re gonna tell me what the fuck is wrong with you.”

you’re tempted to protest, already preparing to draw away from him but hobie beats you to it. he pins your waist down and peels your folds apart. he licks a stripe up your cunt, spit dribbling and mixing with your juices.

you keen, back lifting off your bed. it’s sickening how his knowledge of your body is affecting you this time. usually, it would entail the best orgasm of your life but now it meant you’d be eternally suffering.

he pushes your back down with a grunt. it’s as if every little movement you did only sent hobie father off the edge.

he pushes your leg up by the underside of your thigh until your knee is pressing against your chest. hobie’s nose bumps against your clit and his tongue probs at the walls of your slit.

“fuck! that’s so – ” your scream is cut short by a gulp of air. your hand reaches down to grasp hobie’s wicks, only for him to swat you hand away.

you cum rather quickly, pussy throbbing from the stimulation. by the time you’re sitting up, hobie is staring at you with half lidded eyes. he has yet to remove his grip, lips glistening from your arousal.

neither of you speak, the air growing thicker with tension. your gaze darts between both of hobie’s peering brown eyes before you turn your head away with a huff.

the smack of hobie’s hand against your thigh rings in the air. his demands for your attention has you whining. your skin blooms with a stinging pain, only for it to be followed by another. you’re not moving fast enough for him.

only when your eyes lock does he lightly trace his fingers over your skin. hobie, however, has no plans in letting up with his lesson. he thumbs at the hood of your clit, pulling it back until the puffy bundle is nerves is revealed.

so badly does he want to coo his praise but every time he thinks about how you treated him, his heart burns just the same.

you struggle against his grasp to clamp your legs shut when he wraps his tongue around it. thanks to his hands anchoring you in place, you’re forced to endure all of it.

you twitch and tweak, hands curling around the fabric of your shirt. this is wild, you think, all to get an answer out of you. the deep, docile part of your brain is ready to do whatever he asks to get the soft touches and sweet names, again.

“ ‘bie,” you mewl, reaching out for him again.

“ready to talk?” hobie lifts his head, replacing his tongue with his thumb, performing tiny circles. he’s disappointed when he’s listening to your moans and hums instead of a explanation. how long will you continue to do this?

he drives his fingers into your cunt, a sigh fanning over you skin leaving it hot and sticky with your cum. “you’re being such a brat today. how hard is it to open your fuckin’ mouth?”

he’s relentless with it, routinely pressing his fingers against the spot that has you crying. he tunes out your warbling, sucking in a breath. “can’t believe you tried to make it about gwen knowing damn well this is your problem.”

his words go straight to your cunt. it’s unexpected, the way you tighten and gush. you’re humiliated and even more so when hobie scoffs. “no chance you’re getting off on this.”

your body tenses, coiling in on itself. your chest rises with one final heave before your cunt is spasming around his fingers. hobie doesn’t cut back, head tilted as you wail.

“why aren’t you talking to me?” he fingerfucks you past your orgasm. he’s unaffected by your squirming to get away from him, pulling you back by your waist.

“it’s too much,” you sob, hand pushing at his.

“that’s not what i asked,” hobie shoves your hand away for the second time that morning. he’s fed up. his hand pops down on your cunny, ogling at the shining cream pouring out.

“ ‘cause,” the tears spill over your waterline and cascade down your face.

“ ‘cause what?” hobie finally removes his hold on you and takes his place next to you in the bed. he pulls your putty body into his lap, a hand on your chins to direct your attention.

you sniffle, lips trembling. you’re hesitating, already knowing how he’s going to react. forming a verbal reason makes you realize how immature you’ve been.

“angel,” his voice is heavy with a warning. you can feel the heat of his fingers slot their way beneath you.

your expression immediately contorts at the feeling of your sensitive nerves being stimulated. “ ‘cause,” you scramble for words, shifting until you can no longer feel him. “i don’t know.”

his fingers find their place again, this time pushing back into you with seething annoyance. “you . . . don’t know? so you did all that ‘cause you don’t know?”

they move slowly. slow enough to draw out soft pants and keep you talking. “i –,” you hiccup, “was upset.” you find yourself chewing on your bottom lip. there is no reasonable excuse. he’s about to that find out.

“mhm,” hobie hums, still dissatisfied with your words. “and did that have anything to do with me?” he feels the answer is obvious but there’s always some gratification in hearing you say it.

your head shakes in a tiny swivel. your hands clench into fists and quiver. having being toyed with for so long, hobie could spit on your cunt and you’d cum. when he’s pressing your spot like this, you’re nearly spilling out your arousal.

“didn’t think so.” hobie pressed his lips into a firm line. he takes pity when you lean your weight against him at the feeling of his digits pump in your tight hole.

his poor girl can’t even sit up on her own. she’s having to resort to using him to hold her up. of course it’s entirely your fault but at least you admitted it.

“that’s all you head do to, love. all this is unnecessary,” hobie mumbles underneath your whimpers.

there’s a soothing hand circling your hip through your orgasm. he listens to your babbling with soft shushes and promises of relief.

all he really wanted was to get the explanation out of you. to begin the start of conversation. hobie knew he could do it. after all, you’re his sweet girl. his ray of sunshine.

when your pants turn into into soft heaves is when hobie lifts your head, held in the palm of his hand. “listen to me, ducky.” he’s firm, eyes narrowed. “never ever do that again, you hear me? you have a problem, you talk about it.”

your half lidded eyes are full of passivity and you nod. you’re resting against him, pleased when hobie’s long arms envelop you in a warm embrace. “ ‘m sorry, hobie. i really am. i didn’t mean it.”

his hands run along your spine and be pressed a kiss atop your head. “i know, dolly. i know.”

[jjkfemimagine]

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them

“I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends…”

moments early in the relationship that made you fall in love with them | fem! jjk x reader

Gojo: When Gojo asked you to go on a trip with her, you were excited but slightly nervous. She didn’t tell you exactly where the two of you were going, just that it was out of the country and to pack at least two nice pieces of clothing. 

You had been stressed, looking through every item you owned, trying to decide what was considered nice, and your room had become a mess as you threw clothes everywhere, frustrated that nothing seemed good enough. You were practically in tears. The two of you left in two days, and it wasn’t enough time to buy something and then have it tailored if it needed to be. 

You hear a knock at your door, and thinking it was your neighbor bringing back a pan that they used, headed to greet them. 

What greeted you instead was your girlfriend, standing tall and excitedly in front of you. She was somehow balancing a bag and two to-go cups of boba. “Baby!” she exclaimed happily. “Can I come in? I brought your favorite!” 

You stare up at her beautiful face, sunglasses covering her magnificent eyes, and are struck once again by how perfect she was. Her pearly white teeth, her grin, her long white hair, her body — and how she always seemed to pop up with something for you at the exact timing you need it without even knowing. 

She makes herself at home, placing down the bag and two drinks on your coffee table, and you head in her direction after closing the door and locking it in place. As soon as you get close enough, she reaches out, making grabby hands and pulling you into a huge hug where she rocks the two of you back and forth. The scent of her perfume made all your anxiety fly out the window. In this moment there was only you, and the most kindhearted woman you had ever met. 

She pulls back and gives you a quick kiss, before taking in your expression. Gojo was very hard to fool, especially when it came to how you were truly feeling. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing,” you say, holding onto her still. She runs one of her hands soothingly up and down your back. 

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, love.” 

You fall silent, and Gojo doesn’t press again, though you can tell she’s waiting for you to continue. The two of you had only been dating for three months, but she never failed to decode how you were truly feeling. She gave you time to process things, but had always circled back to asking about what bothered you.

“It’s just…this trip.” 

Her eyebrows furrow, but she doesn’t interrupt you. 

“You said to pack at least two pieces of nice clothing, and I’ve been stressed with packing. I have no idea what the plans are, and nothing seems right, if you know what I mean. Also, please don’t go into my room; clothes are everywhere and it looks as though my bed has been hit by a tornado.” 

There’s silence for a minute before Gojo begins to laugh at you. You look at her as she does, wondering what’s going on inside her head, when she clasps her hands together, and says, “Let’s play dress up then!”

You continue to stare at her, dumbfounded as you say, “Huh?” 

“Yeah, like Project Runway! I’ll sit here on this couch, and you can change into the different ideas you have, and I can rate them like a judge! It’ll be really fun, and I think it'll make you feel better.” 

Your face breaks out into a soft smile at her idea. “Not a bad idea,” you tell her, and drag her into a quick kiss by tugging her towards you. 

“I never have bad ideas, baby! But first, let’s eat!” 

Geto: I’m so sorry, I think I’ll have to reschedule for tonight, is what greets your eyes when you look down at your phone near the end of your workday. 

You were finishing up the paperwork required after a mission, and had been excited to see your girlfriend after a long day. 

It wasn’t like Geto to cancel a hangout, so you’re immediately worried. You quickly type back, Is everything okay? 

Nanako and Mimiko are sick. They’re both sniffling and running slight fevers and have the chills. I want to stay with them and make sure they’re okay. I’m so sorry, baby. 

No reason to be sorry, you respond. Can I bring you anything? 

It takes Geto a minute to respond, and you’re strangely anxious. You two had only been going out for two months, despite knowing each other for much longer. You didn’t want to be pushy, or overstep, especially since the girls are Geto’s pride and joy. 

Actually, if you can get some cold medicine at the store and drop it off, that would be great. Are you sure? 

You snort before responding, Of course I’m sure. I’ll be there with medicine in less than an hour!

As soon as you get off work, you head to the store and pick up some medicine for the girls (the kind that doesn’t taste bad costs more, but you would literally kill someone for them, so it was very miniscule to you) and then head to Geto’s. 

When you arrive at her home, you knock on the door and it opens to reveal your girlfriend, her hair tied up opposed to her typical half-up half-down style. She wore sweatpants rather than her robes, and a bit of the stress on her face alleviates when she sees you. She steps back and allows you in before wrapping you in a huge hug. 

The two of you rock side to side, and immediately, when her familiar scent comes to you, you relax into her even more. “Thank you for getting medicine,” she says, pulling back and giving you a quick fix. “How much do I owe you?”

You arch an eyebrow, “‘How much do I owe you?’ You owe me nothing, Suguru. I would do anything for you and the girls.” 

A soft smile that she only allows you to see settles on her face, and your heart feels so warm. “Thank you, baby,” she says before giving you another kiss. “Let me take some to the girls.” 

You help your girlfriend carry glasses of water and two small measuring cups of medicine to the girls. They were staying in the same room, as they grew quite adorably clingy to one another when the other was ill. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was the way your very soul exploded as Geto squats next to Mimiko, brushing her hand gently across the girl’s forehead to wake her up. When Mimiko stirs, letting out a groan, Ghetto gently shushes her and tells her to take some medicine. She repeats the very same action with Nanako, and the thought hits you like a hundred bricks: I am falling so, so deeply in love with Geto Suguru. 

Nanami: You had gone for a night out with Shoko and Utahime to a bar, pounding back drink after drink. It had been extremely fun, and you were drunk by the time the night was called for. Utahime and Shoko were staying the night in Shoko’s place, and they offered for you to stay with them, but you shook your head stubbornly, the world spinning. 

“I wan’ my g-girlfriend,” you slur out. Hiccuping, you add, “I need…to call…Kento. She’s so, so p-pretty.” 

Shoko burst out with laughter, Utahime joining her as they shared a look. 

“Alright, alright, let’s call your girlfriend to come pick you up. We’ll stay here with you until she comes.” 

You hadn’t even talked to Nanami about picking you up or being a designated driver, but you squinted down at your phone as you tried to scroll through your contacts. All the names blurred together, and you’re swaying side to side from how fucked up you were. The realization hits you, though it doesn’t necessarily sober you. “W-wait! I, I didn’t ask her to pick me up. She…asleep…” 

“Wow, you’re really drunk,” observes Utahime, steadying you with her arm around your shoulders. “And you don’t need to worry about that. Nanami would drop anything for you.” 

“Don’t want to interrupt her sleep,” you slur. Shoko was smoking, and she snorted at your words. 

“Trust me, you’re her first priority. I’ll call her right now for you. No doubt she stayed up to pick you up and make sure you got home safely.” 

“Noooo, don’t bother herrrrr.” 

“Too late,” Shoko says, phone pressed against her ear. “Nanami? Yeah. Can you come pick her up? We’re at that one small bar in Shinjuku.” She pauses, then snickers. “I knew you’d be up and waiting. You’ll be here in 5 minutes? Alright. We’re standing outside.” 

You let out a whine, “Is’ only,” you stare at the screen on your phone with all your concentration to make out the blurry numbers. “Is’ only 1:24 A.M. We can still dance! Dance with me, Utahimeee!” You grab your friend and begin jumping up and down. You were still convinced you could keep going, and your friends silently sent out a prayer for the blonde sorcerer who was going to be taking care of you. 

You were making Utahime rock back and forth with you until a car pulled up next to your group. You turn to look and see the foggy form of your girlfriend. By now, you had completely forgotten that you were worried about Nanami staying up this late, too focused on the warmth in your body and the electric shock that went through your system at seeing your lover. 

“Nanami!” you cried out, stumbling in your heels in her direction. “My baby! You’re here!” 

Nanami had walked quickly to where you were swaying on your feet and wrapped her arm protectively around your waist, supporting your weight easily. You lean against her, laughing. 

“Nanami, have I ever told you,” you hiccup again, “how beautiful you are. Ahh, I have the best girlfriend ever, so tall, so strong, so beautiful, s-so p-perfect, and kind, and soooo pretty.”

Nanami shakes her head at you, and though she seems exasperated anyone sober could see her lovesick gaze. “I think you’ve mentioned it before, sweetheart. Now, come, we should get you home to lay down, hm? I’ll help you get ready for bed.” 

“Fine,” you pout, before turning around and attempting to run away when Nanami lets her guard down. “Nooo! I wanna dance!” 

Nanami had chased after you, and easily caught up. 

And then she does something that sobers you up: She grabs you easily and picks you up. You immediately grab onto her out of instinct, and she begins walking back to the car. Onlookers are giggling at the scene, but Nanami effortlessly opens the passenger door and gently places you inside. 

(Shoko had definitely been recording the whole thing secretly.) 

Nanami gets into the driver seat, and begins the ride home. It’s quiet until you begin to whine. “My feet huuuurrttt.” 

“I can massage them when we get back, how about that?” Nanami says, leaning over, and places her warm, calloused hand on your thigh. “If you’re a good girl for me, and listen to me, I’ll get you a treat tomorrow while you’re hungover, hm?”

Oh. 

Shoko: Many would assume you would realize you loved Shoko while she was treating your injury. And while this was a good guess, it was not reality. 

You realized you loved Shoko after you had sex for the first time. 

You had never been with anyone before, man or woman, but Shoko had surprisingly had many sexual partners to the point she knew what to do. 

So after she had fingered your pussy so well you had cum around her fingers, gotten eaten out for the first time ever, and gotten fucked with her strap, you knew it was love. You wouldn’t have allowed anyone to go that far if you didn’t love them. 

The thought, I think I’m truly head over heels, came when she cleaned you both up and had started a warm bath for the both of you. She sat behind you, and you were in a blissful haze as she used her nails to scrape into your scalp lovingly as her chest was pressed against your back, her long legs bracketing yours. 

Her touches were so gentle. She had been gentle earlier too as it had been your first time and she didn’t want to make you more nervous. And now, here you were, taking a bath with the most beautiful doctor in the world, as she softly says, “You were so good, honey, so perfect for me. Thank you for allowing me to touch you like that. I adore you, pretty. My good girl.” 

Safe to your heart melted. 

Yuki: The thought came, much like many things with Yuki, as a sudden one. 

You had planned to go out on a nighttime ride on her motorcycle, and as she fixes your helmet for you, she leans forward and kisses the visor right in front of your lips, and you can’t help the grin that comes to your face. 

She coos, “You’re so cute in this helmet. I promise you’ll be safe with me, honey. If you get scared at all, and it’s too much, just tap on my waist three times. Are you ready?” 

Despite your anxiety, you were excited for this experience with your girlfriend, especially knowing how much she loves her motorcycle. You wanted desperately to share this with her, so you say confidently, “I’ll be fine, Yuki. I promise. Let’s go!” 

“That’s what I like to hear!” she says excitedly, sliding onto the motorcycle. You slip on behind her, and wrap your arms around her waist as she takes off. 

It was beautiful, truly, watching the city lights fly away. It was as if the two of you were flying, the beautiful countryside lit by street lamps going past you. You let out a laugh as the night air thrilled you, and you didn’t have to look at Yuki’s face to know she was smiling. 

She made a turn down a dirt path, and you were a bit concerned as she kept going until she entered what is the most magnificent flower field in the world. The moonlight reflected off all the bright colors, the rows of tulips and sunflowers and chrysanthemums all lined up in perfect rows. She parks her bike at the end of a row in the middle of the field, shutting it off and taking off her helmet before turning to you. She helps you take your helmet off, and then gently guides you off the motorcycle. 

You looked around in awe, taking in all the beautiful flowers. It truly looked like something out of a dream — a beautiful field, on a beautiful night, with a beautiful woman. You never would have guessed you would be so lucky to experience something like this or experience having someone like Yuki as a lover. 

“How did you find this place?” you ask Yuki, turning to look at the taller woman. 

She grins, winking at you. “That’s a secret, baby. I come here when I want to clear my thoughts. It’s pretty, isn’t it?” 

You stare up at the moon, hanging brightly in the late summer sky. “Yes, it’s beautiful.” 

(You were unaware of Yuki watching you like a hawk. She was tempted to say something cheesy like Not as beautiful as you, but decided not to for once.) 

“Stay here, I’ll be right back and we can continue our date!” Yuki cries loudly, and after blowing you a kiss, she walks into the part of the field with the sunflowers. She’s a tall woman, but they were so tall they hid her frame once she was engulfed in them. 

You stay there, taking in the ethereal nighttime all around you, though you were curious about where Yuki was going. The two of you usually walked hand in hand, so you wonder why she took off without you. Maybe she’s planning to jump out and scare me…? 

You hear a rustle, and see Yuki running back to you with a big grin on her face, a whole bunch of flowers in one hand. She stops a foot in front of you before getting down on one knee. 

Your heart skips a beat as she exclaims, “A handmade bouquet by yours truly for my one and only type! My one and only girl!” She holds out the flowers, and you dumbly reach out to take them, successfully turned to mush. You were sure you would have melted into a puddle if it was physically possible. 

Just as you open your mouth to respond, you hear shouting in the distance. You both turn your heads at the same time to see a figure in the distance, and a voice that sounded like an old man screaming out, “You again?! How many times do I have to tell you to stay the hell out of my field?!” 

You and Yuki turn to one another, share one glance, and then immediately run to her motorcycle, hurrying to put on your helmets. She takes the flowers from you as you finish putting yours on, and you take it back and jump on the bike as the old man gets closer, still shouting. 

“Hold on, babygirl! Off we go!” She reeves the engine, and turns her head back as she shouts to the farmer, “Sorry!” 

You can’t help but burst out laughing, and she joins you. You’re both breathless and in tears from how hard you were guffawing at the situation. Hearing her giggle lit up the night, gripping onto the bouquet she haphazardly made you, you feel an unexplainable feeling settle over you. The scent of the flowers tickles your nose, blown by the wind cutting around the motorcycle. 

Oh, I’m falling in love. 

Sukuna: Kills a man for you.

[verinarin]

𝙃𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙨; 𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬

in which he lets her measure his body for a new set suit for him, riddling him with her innocent touches; his view meaning the fic is written in his point of view

fluff with a lot of tension, like drenched with it. Gallagher lowkey being obsessive and loves to tease and spoil his little lady; 2K words!!

It’s Saturday.

She said she wouldn’t be home until later tonight, so I’m alone for the rest of the day. I’ve been sharing my roof with her for around 3 months now. Funny, I seem to forget how quiet this place is without her. At this hour she would be on the couch with the television on, her favorite shows would air around this time.

Am I being a creep for knowing her daily schedule like this?

Hope not, I mean that brat has been stickin’ beside me ever since day one.

Ah shit, it’s supposed to be the other around. She’s my secretary, but here I am acting like I’m some sort of personal assistant of hers, ah that little minx had me all wrapped around her pretty little manicured fingers huh?

Can’t complain though, not when she does her job perfectly.

It’s just that I rarely wanted her to work, to begin with. Her day consists of following me around like an assistant yet she treats me like I’m her assistant instead. Ahahaha I ain’t setting up a good example as her boss, but then again no one could blame me.

I mean with those fucking doe eyes and pouty lips, she’s the type of woman people wrote on their poetry. At this point, It’s clear as day that I miss that little brat. Y’know I’ll just take a quick shower before she comes home, I don’t want her to drag me to the bathroom again like yesterday.

Stepping into the shower made me realize that every single thing here smells like her. Her vanilla-scented shampoo bottle sits next to mine, her body scrubs, her soap. Damn, I never realized how much product she used, no wonder she cooped up in her for a good hour or more, being a pretty lady like her looks like hard work, perhaps harder than my line of work.

She smells like heaven afterward though, so I won’t complain.

Never mind, I would actually complain about one thing.

The fact that her scent drives me crazy sometimes, not to mention the fact that while working she often clings to me like a second skin. The amount of questions I get asking about why my clothes smell like vanilla and roses is crazy. The other hounds, hell even Siobhan tease me for smelling like a lady.

Well, as long as I don’t reek of smoke and alcohol like I used to I guess it’s a good change. As the cold water rinses through my body, I start to worry about her. She’s an adult, she would be fine traveling around Penacony, but why am I worried about her like I’m her old man? Probably because she didn’t tell me where she was going, this girl goes on a shopping spree almost every week and the one thing she never forgets to bring is her walking ATM, which is me.

Should I go look for her?

Nah, she must’ve needed some time alone. She’s probably sick of an old geezer like me, all I could entertain her with is my crappy dad jokes and a little mixology classes here and there. She seems to like my cringe dad jokes though weirdly enough and she also learns quickly on mixing beverages.

Once I finished rinsing my worries away, I put on a pair of sweatpants. I sigh as I brush my damp hair back remembering that I forgot to bring my shirt inside, my age is starting to catch up on me. Oh well, it’s not like she’s coming home soon. I let out a small chuckle as I looped the small towel I used for my hair around my neck.

The mirror in front of me reflects my rugged face, my fingertips graze upon my stubble feeling the sharp little hairs protruding from my cheek. I’ve been thinking of shaving it clean off for a while, but I remember her weird fondness for my stubble. That girl loves rubbing the back of her hand across my face like I’m some sort of a dog, which in this case relates to my line of work funnily enough.

I figured I’d let it be for now, can’t have her whine about my appearance now like she did last month when I talked to her about cutting my hair short. Her argument was if I did cut my hair she wouldn't be able to play with it anymore, such a silly girl that one.

I should fix myself a cup of coffee before cleaning around the house, it ain’t like I have anything better to do other than waiting for her like a lost puppy. I let out a hefty yawn as I walked towards the kitchen. It's easier for me to find things these days since she arranges it in a specific way. Before her, it took me around 5 minutes to search for the coffee bean, but now I can see the labeled jar from far away.

I couldn't help but let my lips curve into a small smile as I twisted the jar open, the charming scent of the coffee beans she picked emanated through the air, that little lady has good taste I must admit. Heh, she must’ve learned it from me. She used to be a tea gal before she met me, but now it seems she quite enjoys a little more caffeine here and there.

Can’t help to let out a small smirk as I brew myself a cup of coffee. She utterly consumes me at this point, every single damn thing reminds me of her it ain’t funny. I never thought I could still feel this giddy like a teenage kid at my current age, but then again she had always said that I still have my child-like wonder.

I rest my body against the counter, the cold marble hits my bare waist making me wince at the sudden temperature difference. After this, I’ll do laundry and then afterward I should start preparing for dinner.

As I lost myself in my thoughts I could hear the sound of a key twisting inside the keyhole, ah she’s home. “I’m back. Miss me, old man?” she muses as she turns her head towards me.

“Nah, I’m starting to miss my short-lived tranquility though,” I smile, pressing the rim of my glass against my lips to hide my smirk. She on the other hand has her eyes wide open, her mouth wide agape.

She stares at me a little too long before I finally break the silence between us, “Why'd ya look at me that way kid ?” I ask as I gaze toward her small face, analyzing her expression.

“You’re practically half naked, but wait that’s good actually,” shit, I forgot about that. She starts to walk towards me with a nasty smile, oh she’s scheming something alright.

“What? why is it a good thing? you've never seen a man’s body before ?” I snicker, masking away my flustered interior.

“Oh because I could clearly measure it now,” she smiles. Now hold on, measure what ??!!! The seemingly ambiguous sentence drives my mind toward possibilities that would definitely put me behind bars.

“Measure what huh ?” I let out a small chuckle, I put my cup down and leaned towards her eye level.

“You definitely won’t fit a size XL,” she sighs. Well ouch! cut me some slack little lady. I might be slacking off on my training, but I’m still in good shape. “What a way to break this old man’s heart you little brat, fyi I’ll definitely fit a size L,”

“Said that to your shirt. The poor thing needed its button to be stitched back up yesterday,” okay maybe she’s right but it still stings, my lips curve downward as I look at her, she’s out here breaking my heart to pieces.

“I’m not saying you’re putting on weight, what I’m saying is I want to measure your measurements so that I can buy you something custom-made,” she caresses my chest as her eyes lock towards mine.

I could feel my heartbeat drumming against my eardrum as her touch burned against my skin, marking it as hers. Fuck, feels so fucking good to feel her touch. Is it greedy for me to want more of her?

Her pink ‘nd soft lips curve into this delicate smile.

Fuck, she looks so pretty like that.

“Oh, what’s the occasion for dressing up this old hound ?” I smile as I lean forward to close the gap between us, trying to take control of my not-so-innocent thoughts about her lips.

I can’t recall anything worth celebrating between us, maybe the fact that I’m cutting down on smoking, but that’ll be worth something when I fully ditch it.

She merely chuckles before lightly hitting my chest like I’m telling her a funny joke, “You are an old man after all, how can you forget that three months from now is going to be the annual family?”

Ah right….

I was never the person who enjoyed those fancy parties, but hey I have her by my side so maybe I might change my stance.

“Those types of events were never my thing,” I avert my gaze, my finger drums against my nape.

“Well those types of events are my thing, so you’ll come right?” I mean with those puppy eyes, of course I’ll come.

“Fine, I guess this year’s gala could be bearable with you by my side,” I could only sigh as I stroked her hair, truly she dictates the same way as an old friend of mine.

With a smile that rivals the sun curving on her lips, she pulls out a measuring tape from her purse. Ah, so this is the ‘measuring’ part she talked about.

“Since when you’re a tailor,” I snicker as her fingers trace the long tape to find the zero mark.

“Oww hush, you’ll be the first person I’ll measure so be kind,” she mutters as she unravels the tape, “Alright lady,”

She leans closer to me as her finger holds one side of the tape beside my bare ribcage, “Stay still,” she mumbles, easier said than done.

How can I stand still when her fingertips press against my skin? It’s my damn Achilles heel. She’s too close, way too close. I don’t know how to act nor what to think when she’s soo damn close to me, the air feels stuffy and the atmosphere feels way too intimate and somehow sexual?

Kill me now.

She almost has her small face pressing against my chest, my bare chest to be exact which made this seemingly harmless interaction so dangerous.

Her other hand still struggles to find the tape behind my back. “Your chest is too broad,” she complains, I just let out a snicker at her statement which made her lose her focus.

“M’sorry anything I could do to help ?” I couldn’t do anything though, I could only extend my arms to the side to let her in, closer to me.

“Just stay still,” she huffs. Alright then, I’m cool as a cucumber. Without any warning, her cheek presses against my chest as she hugs me.

The warmth of her skin seeps through my cold chest, now this warmth burns inside me. “Ah! This works,” well I’m happy for her but there’s practically no distance between us, not even an inch.

“Stay still ol’ hound,” I must’ve been moving too much. I look down at her, her fingers skillfully bring the other side of the tape in front of my chest.

Now her forehead rests against my chest as she struggles to read the number that transpires, “Uhhh how do I read this again ?” she huffs.

“Can’t read a simple measurement now ?” my hand finds its way back toward her head, brushing a loose strand back behind her ear.

“Don’t tease,” well of course I’m going to tease as if I’m not the one who's secretly flustered as hell.

“Alright got it, now I’m going to drag this down to your waist,” she smiles as she drags both of her hands down and tightens the tape around my waist.

I never thought of myself to be a squeamish person, but I am now. “Oh wow, your chest and waist ratio are quite something….”

“What d’ya mean by that ?” I ask as she looks up towards me, “Your waist is quite slim and also your shoulders are broad so you do have that hourglass silhouette…” she muses to herself.

Well, ain’t that interesting…..

“Oh yeah your shoulders and back !” she naps herself back from her trance, cute.

With that, she took a couple of minutes to measure my upper body to the best of her abilities. Albeit the fact that I need to crouch down a bit for her to be able to measure my shoulders and back.

She takes a couple of steps back with newfound determination exuding her. I guess it’s from the fact that she’s getting the hand of measuring me.

“Are we done now ?” I ask, rather impatiently. Her fingers still linger in any direction she wants. Mapping every single inch of me into her memory.

“Still a long way to go,” she huffs. I see that she wants me to be as still as a mannequin, the things I do for her…

She hums a familiar tune, a song I like to hum. She crouches down bringing the tape around my hips, then she circles back in front of me, “Pardon my intrusion,”

Well the sentiment is rather too late now, she had been breaching my personal space since the very beginning. She couldn’t help but rest her forehead against my lower stomach as she looked down, reading the tape.

“Take your time, s’not like I could go anywhere,” I sigh as I stroke her hair, letting her silky smooth locks stream through my fingers. “I thank you for your coordination,” she snickers as she looks up at me, pretty little thing she is.

So stinkin’ cute. I smile as I cup her cheeks, letting my thumb graze against his lower lip, “Anytime, Lady,” I reply, before casually folding my arms back against each other.

Why the fuck did I just do that?

“I’m going to go lower now, I need to get some measurements for your pants,” she continued her current action without any signs of discomfort, thank god. “Oh wow even a pair of pants, you spoil this ol’ hound too much,” I feel as though my chest cavities were filled with cotton, making my heart all warm and soft.

“We both know you spoiled me rotten, Gallagher,” she cuts me, the tape now encircling around my thighs.

“Have I now?” Honestly, she deserves more than I could afford.

“You have you silly hound. Now let me repay your kindness,” her face now rests against my thighs as the tape travels slightly lower.

“Heh is this your way into getting to my pockets again,” I snicker, knowing that it’s one of her best manipulation tactics. Acting all cute and then stealing my money.

“Hey! I’m spending my own paycheck on this mister,” she protests as she stands up. “Oh, she’s a big girl now. She doesn’t need my money anymore right ?”

“Well technically no,” she looks away to the side, biting her lips in annoyance.

“She doesn’t need my money, but I’ll give it to her anyway because she has me wrapped around her little fingers,” I cup her cheeks, guiding her face to see me. “Cuz she’s my lil lady,” I smile as I press our forehead together, I can feel a thin imaginary veil between us.

“Of course I am and you’re my old hound,” she wraps her arms around my neck as my hand rests on her waist.

The thin barrier that puts a blur in our relationship, but somehow it just feels right, whatever we are it’s perfect. I don’t need more or less, just her warmth against mine.

[lushta1es0nm3]

Bunny

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x reader

Summary: “I’m changing your contact name to: My Slutty Bunny.” He stated as his grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly.

Warning: Mature! 18+ you have been warned

Genre: Straight up smut

A/N: Read at your own risk and if you choose to read please feel free to give feedback and request are always open. I have not proof read this so keep in mind there are errors everywhere. I put off posting this because I felt like it wasn’t good enough, but something in me said, fuck it post that shit and get it over with. Hence the post, meaning I obeyed my random thoughts, anyway……here ya go!!! Thanks for reading 😊😊

Another night, sitting quietly in the backseat of your best friend’s car. Listening to her chat and talk with her boyfriend, Hongjoong. You sighed inwardly and looked beside you into the face of Seonghwa who also looked like he was bored out his mind.

This supposed to be double date that you both were forced to attend, again. Was seeming to drag on for ever! Even though it had just started. Seonghwa also looked at you and rolled eyes, while throwing his head back.

The constant flirting and giggling coming from the front seat was becoming more and more annoying. Just when you were about to start cursing, your bestie pulled over into the parking lot of a restaurant.

“We’re here!” She sang with the smile as she and Hongjoong got out of the car.

You huffed and Seonghwa laughed at you as he himself climb out of the vehicle. You both followed the happy couple inside, with you dragging your feet. You wanted to so badly to go home but you decided to stick out since your bestie put so much effort into getting you out of the house.

But why though? Well, let’s just say, you were dealing with some shit and it was really getting you down lately. Making you want to curl up in a corner and let all of what you felt go in the form of tears. But you wouldn’t let yourself cry, sometimes being a crybaby makes you feel better……I’m just saying.

After entering, you thought you’d all be sitting at the same table, but instead the hostess stopped you and Seonghwa and lead you to a table on the opposite side of the room. You looked at your bestie with a frown, but she smiled and blew you a kiss before going back to her man.

Now, sitting at the table in complete silence only seemed to make this night last longer. But a sigh from Seonghwa made you look up at him from the game you playing on your phone.

“Why exactly don’t you like me again?” Seonghwa asked with a gentle smile, “because I have no issue with you.” He added as he began taking a drink of water

“You’re a hoe.” You stated point blank, watching as he began choking on his water.

“Excuse me.” He sputtered whipping his face.

“I mean, the first time I met you, was at a party, I caught you coming out of back room with a random chick,” you explained, “then at another party, you were getting hands with some other girl in a dark corner of room. I do have a bunch more explanation as to why I’m not into you, my good sir, but I’m gonna stop right there.” You added at the end.

“All I can say is, it’s not what you think,” he gave a sheepish defense, “I’m not a hoe.”

“Bullshit,” you shot down.

“I can prove it,” Seonghwa defended himself.

“Yeah right.” You scoffed.

He pulled out his phone, unlocked it and placed in front of you. You looked up at him as if to ask him if he was serious. He gestured for his phone and you picked it up

“Read the messages.” He urged.

You scoffed and did as he urged, it took a brief moment, before you got bored and put his phone back on the table. He gave you a Quick Look before taking his phone back.

“That doesn’t prove anything.” You stated taking a sip of water, you put it down and looked around wondering where the fuck was the server to take your orders. Your mind focusing now on food.

“You didn’t see any chicks in there though.” He stated sitting back, now looking at you. Subconsciously, he gave you a once over and bit his bottom lip, you instantly caught it.

“See,” you pointed at him, “you’re a slut,” his rolled his eyes and smirked while letting out a scoff, “you’re looking at me like you could eat me alive.”

Seonghwa was now full on laughing under his breath, your expression was priceless. And before he could rethink his next words, he said them.

“You’re so cute, you look like a helpless bunny.” He snickered out.

Your face blushed red unexpectedly as you just stared at him, completely flabbergasted by the statement. All you could think was why on earth did your bestie keep putting you with this guy. And how in hell did he make you blush harder than a preteen in front of their first crush.

The server finally decided that now would be a good time to pop the fuck up. You both ordered a big ass burger with fries and he just smirked at you. You raised an eyebrow at him in question and he just threw his hands up

“What?” You questioned

“Nothing.” He answered

“Say it.” You urged.

He sighed, “You’re so tiny, I’m wondering how……”

You blinked, “Is this because last time I at an entire pizza by myself?” You asked him.

“Yes,” he answered, “you looked like a hungry chipmunk,” he mimicked you, “you’re not the only one that’s been watching the other,” he added becoming a little serious, “I’m sorry, but contrary to how you’ve seen me, I’m completely different. I swear,” he stated truthfully, “at it seems that our friends are going to keep dragging us along on dates. Can we at least be friends?” He suggested.

You sighed, thinking it over for a second, he wasn’t wrong, “Okay,” you finally answered, “sounds like a deal, you better not try anything. Or else.”

“Or else what?”

“I’ll bite you.” You expressed dead ass serious.

Well, after that you both just kept talking, or more like bantering back and forth, it was cute to watch from a distance. Hongjoong and your bestie at some point caught sight of you both giggling and talking. It made them feel like they were the shit for getting you two together.

After dinner, you exchanged contact info and went your separate ways. Time passed and with it, your friendship grew. Receiving random text from each other became an everyday thing. The teasing and mocking each other was endearing, you even showed each other what you saved the other number as.

Yours being: ‘He’s a slut 👀🤨’

His being: ‘She Thinks I’m a Slut 👀🤓’

You both thought it was appropriate as an inside joke between you two. Must be nice to talk shit to each other on this type of level.

“No, you cheated!” You exclaimed sitting across from Seonghwa at the table. A game of cards had been going on between you two for the past few minutes. Currently, you both were at a small party being hosted at a beach house, everyone else was outside on the patio mingling. You snuck inside to hide, and when your phone buzzed with a message from Seonghwa as to where you went. You told him, after some chatting and shit talking, you spotted a deck of cards and challenged him to game……or two…..okay, a few games.

“No,” Seonghwa replied, “I won fair and square. It’s not my fault you lost.”

“That’s why you’re a hoe.” You started.

He looked at you, mischief was all over his face, you pointed a finger at him, warning him not to do it. But he did anyway, he chased you and began tickling your sides with no mercy. You cried out in laughter, begging for mercy and simultaneously calling him a fucker.

At some point he stopped, but he was still holding you, you looked up at him, he was hovering over you. You giggled up at him, not noticing the change in his eyes. He called his name, he didn’t reply. You poked his nose lightly and he grabbed your hand gently moving it out of the way. You went to ask him what he was looking at but the sudden feeling of his lips connecting with yours made you freeze.

You were shook by this sudden action, unsure as to how you should react as he cupped your cheeks with his free hand, while he devoured your lips. Almost like he was in a trance. A sudden loud commotion was heard outside, loud enough to snap him back to reality. He pulled away, his eyes were cast down, he himself was trying to process his own actions.

Just as Seonghwa looked up at you, Hongjoong appeared with your bestie. They’d been looking for you both because they hadn’t seen either of you for a long while. They were making a statement when Seonghwa stood up abruptly and dismissed himself, Hongjoong called after him. But he didn’t turn around, prompting the other male to dismiss himself to check on his friend. Your bestie asked you what had happened but you didn’t say, aiming to keep it to yourself because now, you were confused a filled with some mixed emotions.

Well bitch, after you managed to get home, you shot Seonghwa a text to make sure he was okay. You didn’t get a response, so you decided to give him space, thinking it was the best decision. But alas, sis, a week went by, you reached out to him a few times. Even going so far as to call him a few times, still with no real response. He only texted you an excuse, saying he was busy.

Well one week turned into three, your world had become quiet again. Now the only person you talked to on a daily basis aside from your bestie was ghosting you. Over something that could be talked over and discussed as two adults. Damn, what the actual fuck?

It was the end of the fourth week now, you’d just left a doctors appointment. You huffed, feeling down and like shit all over again. You chose to ignore it, aiming to not let this episode drag you down again. Sighing you tried to call your bestie, to see where she was, but she didn’t answer. Only she knew your story, which was why she always took you along to parties to help cheer you up in this lonely world. Even if you didn’t want to go, because let’s be honest, she could always tell between you going through an episode and when you genuinely didn’t want to go out.

You were almost home when you heard your name, you looked up into the face of the last person you wanted to see. You huffed and rolled your eyes at her, here we go, you thought.

“Long time no see.” He smiled.

“Respectfully go away. Not in the mood.” You turned to walk away but you heard her voice. You turned around some watched she wrapped her arms around your ex.

“Hey, how have you been?” She started in a taunting tone, “we haven’t been seeing you around lately.”

“Bitch-,” you took a step to snatch her head off, but your bestie had appeared, stopping you.

“Whoa,” your bestie started, “no need to mess up her face, it’s already fucked up it can’t be helped.”

“Excuse me!”

“If I let her go, some things gonna be broken,” you bestie warned them, “I can’t let her help you fix your ugly or you can leave,” your bestie was standing between you, “or better yet, I can do it for her. I’ve always wanted to gauge your eyes and feed them to you.”

She went to speak but your ex dragged her away because he knew how crazy you and your bestie were when it comes down to it. Your bestie scoffed and turned to look at you, you both instantly burst out laughing.

“Alright,” your bestie looped her arm around yours, “let’s go, the girls are waiting.”

In no time, you were all seated in a small party chopping it up with a few friends. Everyone was catching up and having fun, Hoongjoong and Seonghwa appeared. You looked at Seonghwa and spoke, he responded but it felt dry. You sighed inwardly and thought to yourself that this friendship was over and that was fine.

Yeah…..right….why? Well, let’s just say that Seonghwa was talking to everyone but you, not even small talk. But what upset you the most was how he was having a full blown conversation with a girl across the room from you. AND he was pretending he doesn’t see you glaring a a hole in his head. Not to mention how fast you were drinking, unknowingly.

“Y/N,” Hoongjong called your name out of concern after you’d down the drink you were just poured quickly, “ are you okay?”

You hummed in response, “I’m fine,” you lied, pouring yourself another and drinking it down. Your bestie stood up and helped you stand up, “girl, I’m fine.”

“Bitch,” your bestie shook her head, “let’s go to the bathroom.”

You giggled a little as you held on to your bestie for support, “I’m sorry,” you spot her once she successfully got you into the bathroom and seat on top of the toilet, “a lots going on. I wasn’t tryna get this fucked up.”

“Bitch if you don’t start talking,” she warned with her arms folded as she leaned on the sink, “what’s the tea? I want all the tea and nothing but the tea.”

And you spilled, from the beginning to the end, even going so far as to say that Seonghwa was talking to the pretty girl just to piss you off. She let out a scoff, followed by a giggle, that lead to full blown laughter. It took her a second to gather herself, but after you said it wasn’t funny a few times, she stopped.

“You’re jealous and it’s cute.” She expressed, “I’m sure he’ll come talk to you after a while.”

“I doubt it,” you grumbled, “I wanna rip his lips off for kissing me and ghosting me.”

Hongjoong called her name from outside of the bathroom, she answered and stepped out. Saying she’d be right back. You could hear them talking in the hallway, but couldn’t make since of what they were saying. You huffed and stood up, aiming to leave the bathroom because the walls seemed to close in on you. The trouble of trying not to stumble over seemed not as bad as before. The alcohol was wearing off.

You swung the bathroom door open and took a step out, you tripped on your own feet and almost fell. Hands caught you and you looked up into the face of Seonghwa. He looked concerned as he held onto you, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. You went to swear but an irritating voice reached your ears.

“Y/N,” your ex spoke, “I didn’t know you could get this fucked up.”

You huffed out a few swear words, catching Seonghwa completely off guard. He’d never heard you talk like that, let alone get this upset.

“Dude,” you started, “no one asked for your fucking opinion.”

“Quit acting so mean,” he countered taking a step towards you, “you know you miss me. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be with a playboy like him.”

You swore under your breath, the alcohol began to speak, “Listen trifling, decrepit, prick,” you started, “don’t call him that, nobody gets to call that but me,” you let go of Seonghwa and took a step towards your ex, “ and I’m not about to lower myself to that level of mutt, just to get back with a worthless pig that can’t tell his ass from his head.” You added.

“Wow.” was the only reaction Seonghwa could mutter, your ex went to speak, but he cut him off, “I think you should back down.” Seonghwa suggested.

He received a glare in response before your ex walked away quickly feeling shit now because you broke his ego. Meanwhile, you leaned against the wall beside you and sighed. Now frowning at Seonghwa.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” You asked him right now. No one was around, so why not ask, “you kissed me and ghosted me. I thought we were friends?”

Yes, you were drunk. Yes, your emotions were high. Yes, silent tears were rolling down your cheeks as you stared at him waiting for and answer. Seonghwa sighed and apologized, he paused, seeming to try and find the words to explain. You sniffled and wiped your cheeks, moving quickly without thinking, only wanting answers. You grabbed his hand and pulled him in the bathroom and closed and locked the door.

“What are you doing?” He asked you with a small frown.

“Tell me the truth,” you demanded, “do you like me as a friend, a fuck toy or a girlfriend? Tell me,” the normal you had begun to show. Making him smile a little.

“Fuck toy, for real?” He asked with a scoff, “you couldn’t think of a better term for a fuck buddy?”

“You know what I meant you little slut.” You replied with a roll of your eyes, “damnit Seonghwa-,” you were about to go on a drunken rant but was stopped by Seonghwa who’d quickly pulled down onto his lap facing him.

“Okay,” he huffed, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I’d upset you this much,” he acknowledged, “you’re cute and funny,” he paused, letting soak it in as he carefully watched your face.

“That’s bullshit,” you stated out right, “you became my second bestie and then you ghosted me you fucking bitch.”

“I said was sorry,” he reiterated, “and what the hell do you mean second bestie?” He sounded outraged.

“You know she’s my bottom bitch, so stop playing,” You countered, “besides, you don’t hear clowning you about Hongjoong.”

Some bantering began to take place, much like nothing had happened. Then again as you were rambling on, Seonghwa was quite asphyxiated on your every move. He cupped your face right as you giggled a little and looked back at him. He kissed. Again. You pulled away and stared at him for a brief second.

“I’m going to throat punch you.” You remarked, as he buried his face in your neck, “Hwa,” you complained as you felt his hand grip at your waist, “are you trying to fuck me?” No answer, “I mean, with the way your caressing my squeezing my waist. Plus that fact that you’re face is in my neck and all I can feel is your hot breath-,”

“Be quiet.” He finally stated.

“I’m gonna go,” you opted to say. And just as you thought you were going to stand up. He bit your neck cause you to let out a yelp, “you-,”

“Bunny I said he quietly.” He stated again.

“I’m not a bunn-” you started, but cut yourself short when Seonghwa pulled back and finally looked at you.

“You have no sense of danger.” He commented. His eyes were dark as he started at you like he wanted to eat you alive.

“Am I supposed to be afraid of you?” You asked him teasingly.

A quick smirk took over his face for brief moment. It quickly turned into a sincere expression of longing as place his hand around your neck causing your breathe to catch in your throat, “I’m sorry,” he started, going back to the conversation from before, “at first, I thought you were cute,” he began telling you his truths, “I thought maybe it was just me wanting to ruin you. But the more we talked and hung out…..I realized I liked you. I acted on impulse when I kissed you that day. I took off because I thought I’d fucked up our friendship.” He added, all while rubbing circles on your neck with his thumb.

“You could’ve just said that,” you voiced now frowning yourself, “I’m changing your name in my phone to: My Bitch, just promise not to fuck me over.”

He scoffed at you, “You can’t be serious, how could I ever fuck you over,” He shook his head a small smile on his face. He kissed you again, and pulled away, “I’m changing yours to: My Slutty Bunny.” He stated as his grip on your hips tightened ever so slightly.

He held you closer, sitting right on his twitching member. Causing you to blush hard as fuck as your legs clenched. Seonghwa noticed and smirked, he picked you up and placed you on the counter behind you. Making sure to keep you from closing your legs, your mind instantly went to mush when you felt how hard he was pressing flush against your folds.

Seonghwa began eating at your neck as one of his hands found your folds. He pushed your underwear to the side and gently began rubbing circles on your clit. He let out soft swear as he commented on how wet you were. He finally pulled away enough to take in your every expression.

“This color looks good on you,” he whispered softly, “you’re so fucking cute when you’re frowned up like this,” he added pressure causing a low whimper to catch in your throat, “that’s such a lovely sound,” he kissed your hot cheek gently, “I want to hear it.”

He added a finger, thrusting it into you with slow adding steady pressure. One turned into two, all the while he was looking at you with those eyes. You let out low whimpers and mews as you bit your lips to stay quiet.

“Take off your top,” he whispered out a demand. You did as told your shirt fell to the floor as soon as it did, you felt wet kisses being placed on them. Your head fell backwards as your eyes closed from bliss, the sound of someone walking down the hallway hit both your ears. And as it did, you felt Seonghwa rub his length slowly between your folds before gently pushing into them.

You let out an audible moan that caused him to kiss you, his tongue explored your mouth freely and he buried himself inside you. He groaned at how tight you were around as he thrusted into you a few times hard but slow making your walls clench and your stomach flutter. You whimpered into his mouth and gripped at his shirt as your body rocked with each thrust.

Pulling away, he placed a hand on your hip to hold you in pplace as he picked up the pace. Thrusting deeper and deeper. While he used his free hand to pinch and pull at your nipples. He swore under his breath as you let out low moans. Seonghwa held your legs wide open as he began pounding into you harder and faster.

“Rub yourself.” Seonghwa demanded before devouring your lips hungrily, you did as told, chasing the high, “fuck,” he groaned out, just as someone outside had decided to start playing loud music. He’d picked up the past, now fucking you roughly filling you with pain and pleasure.

You couldn’t take it anymore as your walls clenched hard and your legs shook. You let out a moan as you creamed hard, Seonghwa buried his cock balls deep in your folds. He kissed your lips and neck until you were done.

He pulled out and flipped you around and he pinned your arms behind your back, “look at yourself,” Seonghwa ordered gesturing towards the mirror, “look at how fucked up you are,” he again buried his cock into deep into your folds and gave your ass a hard smack, “look at how beautiful you are for me.”

You moaned as he thrusted into you hard making your bare breast jiggle, while he held you up with your back flush against his chest. He pounded you with no mercy all the while watching as tears streamed down your flushed red face. Enjoying how your moans turned into whispered words of bliss.

At some point, he let going of your arms, allowing you to lay down on the countertop. Seonghwa’s hands now gripping and smacking at your ass and relentlessly pounded away, while telling you want a good fuck bunny you were being. If it weren’t for the music, you’d both be given away by the lustful sounds you both were making.

“Hold still, it’s almost over.” Seonghwa urged, his head now thrown back as he fucked away.

You couldn’t form a coherent sentence as your eyes rolled back and your body began to shake and quiver as you tumbled over the edge unknowingly. As you shook, Seonghwa who didn’t notice, kept going as his hips went into over drive at the sudden feeling of your walls tightening around him. His grip on your hips had tightened as he slammed into you until his hips bucked hard and he came deep inside you feeling you up.

His fell on top of you, both of you now covered in sweat as your chest rose and fell. He whispered words of praise into your ear as he kissed your neck and shoulder. He pulled out after a moment and spun you around, he lifted you up and sat you on the counter top, where he kissed your lips gently.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t control myself.” Seonghwa apologized between kisses. You were too busy trying to comeback around as your body quivered and reacted to his touch.

He went to say more but you but him off by pulling him in and kissing him, “Just for you.”

Well, well, well, look who’s a slutty bunny after all. You’re was too busy swimming in the fact Seonghwa was now yours and you were now his. This was an outcome you would’ve never guessed, you perceived this man as a hoe. Not knowing from the moment you accepted his friendship it’d turn out like this……Nice, good move!

Anyway, few months came and went, everything seemed to be a blur. Everything had gone back to normal for the most part. Your bestie couldn’t help but rub her “I told you so’s” in your face. I mean she wasn’t lying, she and Hongjoong were low key the reason you both had finally gotten together.

Here you guys were sitting in his and Hongjoong’s shared apartment. Legos on the table as you attempted to help him put it together, failing miserably. Hongjoong and your bestie were also sitting in the living room, putting together their own puzzle

“If you force it like that it’ll break.” Seonghwa warned without looking up.

“This is stupid.” You frowned.

Seonghwa chuckled under his breath “Only because you can’t do it.” He stated smugly.

You huffed, putting the two pieces down with a roll of your eyes. Seonghwa who was beside you pulled you into his lap, he used your hands to start putting pieces together.

“Awe look at you, cat got your tongue?” Your bestie teased earning a laugh from Hongjoong and Seonghwa who’d rested his chin in the crook of your neck.

“Oh hush,” you huffed, “concentrate your jigsaw puzzle.”

She scoffed at you and shook her head at you. Some back and forth and joking took place between the four of you. It gotten quiet, your bestie yawned, the puzzle was almost finished. Hongjoong put it down and announced that he was tapped out. He checked the time, it had gotten late. Neither you or Seonghwa paid attention to the other two disappearing off to bed.

The set of Lego flowers was complete, Seonghwa sighed and leaned back, pulling you with him. He’d started to play with your hands in silence, “Your hands are dainty.” He remarked after a while of silence.

“So are yours,” you countered looking up at him.

He made eye contact with you, after glossing over your face and biting his bottom lip. You’d begun rambling about something, it was falling on death ears. A quick kiss is what shut you up, you looked at him blushing crimson as you blinked rapidly.

“Hey,” you started finally looking around, “where’d they go?” You asked when you didn’t hear your bestie talking shit.

“Alright,” Seonghwa started as he stood up, “let’s go to bed.” He reached down and pulled you up. You reiterated the question “bunny, that should be the least of your worries.” He answered pulling you along.

“I’m not a bunny” you commented as you entered his bedroom.

“Whatever you say,” was his response, “here,” he handed you a set of pajamas. That seemed to be picked out just for you. You took them and unfolded the net stack, sizing up the thin shorts and tank top combo.

“This does little for the imagination.” You remarked.

“Good, now put it on.” He coolly ordered as he himself began to change.

“That’s not fair,” you pointed, “yours look more comfy, mines look like I’ll freeze.”

“Bunny would you like some help?” Seonghwa asked after he’d slide his pajama pants on.

“No,”

“Than put them on, it’s late I’m sleepy.” He yawned.

You went to speak but a knock on his door cut you off, “Y/N,” your bestie voice rang out, “put the damn pajamas on a go to sleep. It’s fucking 2am bitch. I can hear all the way down the hall.”

You rolled your eyes and looked back over at Seonghwa who gave you a look. You huffed and changed quickly, in no time you both were cuddled up in bed. Only…..you weren’t sleep, you were staring at the ceiling.

“Hwa,” you called softly, he didn’t answer, he was halfway to dreamland. So you called him again and went on a quick rant about something irrelevant.

“Babe hush please.” Seonghwa pleaded softly, tightening his arms around you.

“Ok,” you replied with a small huff and a pout. A sigh came from him as he propped himself up on his elbow to look at you, “I said okay,” you stated looking away.

“You just huffed,” he stated groggily.

“No I didn’t.” You lied.

He sighed and rolled you onto your back and rested his head on your stomach, “Fine I’m gonna go to sleep here. That way I’ll know if you huff, sigh, groan, burp, fart and or moan.” He expressed.

“Me, fart, in your presence…..never.” You scoffed out a lie.

He giggled under his breath and put his hand went under your shirt. He pushed it up a little and placed a kiss on your now exposed side. A soft squeal lift your lips instantly as you squirmed and your hands gripped his shoulders. He shushed you and licked your skin slowly, looking up at you.

“Are you going to go to bed now?” He asked deviously with a sleepy smirk on his face. Your eyes were closed, due to the sensation of his hot breath now fanning your exposed skin, “bunny,” he drawled out, the sound of his voice now caused you to clench your legs.

His hand was now inching down into your shorts. The moment he came in contact with your folds, he began to rub circles on your clit. You covered your lip and snapped your eyes open. A small whimper escaped just as he inserted his fingers. He was smirking at your red flushed cheeks, enjoying how now you were speechless.

“What’s wrong bunny?” He quizzed softly as he played in your folds faster, “wow,” he added mockingly, “you’re so quiet now. If I stop will you go to sleep?”

You let out another small whimper, arching your back. Seonghwa stopped and kissed at your belly, working his way down.

“Wait,” you tried weakly, “I knew you gave me these thin ass,”

Your words caught in your throat the moment you felt his lips connect with your clothed folds. You squirmed, gripping his hair to stop him from eating you up. But arching your back further for more. Seonghwa gave your folds long lavish lick as he made eye contact with you. You shook your head, trying to stay quiet. Watching as he pushed the thin pajama bottoms and your underwear to the side.

“It won’t take long,” Seonghwa whispered as he kissed your folds softly, “I promise you’ll shut up and go to sleep after I’m done.”

The grip you had on his hair did nothing to stop him. It only fueled his ambition to see you red faced from coming because of him. With that in mind, he licked, bit and sucked at your core, causing your stomach to clench. You’d begun to grinding against his face, your mouth hung open, small soft breaths left them. Causing him to reach up and place his fingers, that were once buried in your folds into your mouth.

A hot sigh left his lips in an attempt to catch his breath. He kissed your folds again before pulling you down closer by your thighs. He’d begun to eat you with no mercy, he wanted to sleep but he also wanted to taste your cream. So he ate you hurriedly like he was starved. The soft wet sounds filled the room, a moan escaped passed your lips, your stomach flipped and your walls clenched.

An incoherent statement left your lips as you got closer. You gasped as you bucked your hips against his face a few times, meeting him halfway. You tried to clench your legs but Seonghwa had a tight grip that held in place. He smirked as you shook and shivered coming over the edge. Watching you from his place between your legs the entire time. He kept eating until you were done.

Seonghwa let you go, and fixed your pajama bottoms back. He again kissed your stomach and sides. He looked up at you and smirk on his lips.

“Now be a good bunny and go to sleep.” He recommended, kissing your lips and cheeks, “you taste so good,” He added laying his head down on your stomach.

“You’re a slut,” you managed out of breathe, your body still tingling.

“I have something for your mouth,” he stated not moving to look at you, “it’s hard to swallow, would you like to try?” He asked.

“No,” you answered quickly.

“Good,” Seonghwa yawned, “I’ll save it for your breakfast tomorrow.”

Your hands found his hair and you began playing with the strands, “I love you bunny.” He whispered, you could feel his smile against your stomach, “next time I’m going to make you cry,” he yawned again holding you close, “only I can make you cry.”

You wanted to say something smart back but issued your own “I love you too.” Instead, because you knew that he was serious about his illustrious threat. It didn’t take long now for you to fall asleep now. He knew what he was doing, he always knew how to shut you up. Whether it be in the bedroom or during word play, you two knew each other well and complimented each other on it.

Now imagine if you hadn’t have befriended each other. That would’ve been a bummer, and you wouldn’t have been able to try your luck at relationships of love and lust. Sometimes, you have to dabble….or for better words….try to something outside the box. Sometimes you shouldn’t take what you see at face value, because beneath it could be something so much more…. 😘

[jnnul]

peaches

sum.: when you pie your [really-hot] neighbor in the face on accident, you never imagine that you’re gonna have to be wheeling him to the hospital because who the fuck is allergic to peaches? yang jungwon, apparently. but you come to learn that yang jungwon is so much more than his unfortunate allergy to peaches and his pretty face and you’re stuck wondering if falling in love with someone you can’t have is worth it.

word count: 2.9k

tags: this one’s sad bois, bullet fic, like ngl, when i was planning this one, i teared up a little bit, sorry in advance tw: major character death, terminal illness, just...not meant for the weak-hearted

a/n: literally all i can say i’m sorry :( can’t believe my first fic for jungwon is this sad nonsense i conjured up literally last year

you didn’t mean to pie your extremely attractive neighbor in the face

and you definitely didn’t mean to have to take him to the hospital because apparently, your hot neighbor was allergic to peaches

who’s fucking allergic to peaches?

yang jungwon, apparently

you didn’t even know what he looked like until you had to drive him to the hospital in your stupid beat up toyota bc his face was bright red and splotchy

and he kept itching it

which then meant that you had to swat at his hand every so often

it was not the first impression you wanted to make on such a pretty man

you vividly remember sitting in the waiting room, knee bouncing in fear that you may have accidentally killed the hottest man you’ve ever seen in your life

or that you would have to pay his hospital bills for the rest of his life

fuck american healthcare (and the collegiate system)

only to find out that he was absolutely fine. in fact. he knew the doctor there. not only did he know the doctor. he worked for the doctor. 

he had insurance.

you had been betrayed.

not really. you didn’t exactly give him a chance to tell you that you didn’t need to take out a debt creating loan to pay his hospital bills

you were too busy trying not to cry as you sped down the interstate in hopes that your decision to take the toyota instead of paying another $4000 for the ambulatory fee was the correct decision

it was.

so when jungwon walks out with an itemized bill and a sheepish, almost silly smile, you nearly fall to your knees in gratitude in the middle of the waiting room

you’re pretty sure that some of those people are convinced jungwon beat cancer bc of the relief on your face when you see the 0 next to copay on the bill

you could kiss jungwon but his face still looks a little too splotchy to be doing that

and you tell him as much but he just laughs, shaking his head a little bit

“so you’re saying you would kiss me if i didn’t look so splotchy?”

“i’m saying i’m going to kiss your insurance provider and i’m switching mine to yours today.”

anyway

after nearly losing your hot neighbor to justin bieber’s hit song, you finally start getting closer to him

it turns out that you had meant to pie yours and jungwon’s mututal friend and down the hall neighbor, jake sim, from whom he was renting out the apartment for the summer

but jake had the reflexes of a fucking ninja and had ducked and jungwon had the privilege of being pied instead

you had knocked on jake’s door and as soon as someone opened the door, you pied them with no thoughts and no turnback

jungwon had opened the door though, and the rest was history

you guys had a very neighborly relationship

jungwon would come home after a long day of summer classes, internships, and work and you cook jungwon (peach-less) baked goods that he could die for

and when you would complain abt your broke ass, he would buy enough groceries for the two of you and you would go to his place or he would come to yours

the stubborn struggling artist in you always protested

“i can’t let you buy this for me! groceries are so expensive nowadays!”

“if it makes you feel better, these aren’t organic. in fact that avocado looks like it’s on life support.”

“...”

but you also end up coming over to his place whenever he has a quick repair or smth bc the landlord doesn’t know a screw from a lightbulb

so he insists that it all cancels out in the end

but you hates taking jungwon’s help (or any help in general you stubborn ass)

so you got onto the summer job hunt grind

but it was pretty late, almost the middle of june, and not many places were hiring

thankfully, jake sim was loaded

and he was going to europe for the rest of the summer

randomly

bc apparently that’s what rich people do

so you were able to take his role temporarily at the local dance studio that jake taught at

not that jake needed the money

but he said smth about “passing on the passion” and “encouraging the next generation of dancers”

you kinda stopped listening once you saw pics of him in leotards that left nothing to the imagination

scrubbing the mental image from your mind was hard enough

you weren’t the best ballet dancer, but you had danced for 10 years in contemporary before a foot injury knocked you out of dancing for good

so you definitely had the experience (and a semi-healed foot) that you needed

and besides! as an education major, you needed experience with working with students anyway

or at least that’s what you tell yourself

because you forget how terrifying little human beings are until you step into the studio

and every single one of them is wearing some lululemon or aritzia variation

and you’re...kinda just wearing your old tights and a loose shirt

not in a quirky “i’m not like other dancers” type of way

a more humble “i can’t afford luxury brands” type of way

no shame in the college grind game

but other than the fact that you felt like you were on an episode of dance moms every day, the classes weren’t that bad

the kids were pretty polite and they generally didn’t really mind that they had a new teacher - although one of them did say that jake was really good eye candy

and that you were gorgeous but not really their type

hey. you’re gorgeous. you’re everyone’s type. in fact, they’d be lucky if you were one’s type.

but you’re also thankful bc it’d be really awkward if your prepubescent students had a crush on you...

speaking of crushes

jungwon was fucking oblivious to yours

he says shit that makes you think that he’s caught on

that he knows that you would cosplay anastasia steele for the rest of your life if it meant he went for a roll in the hay with you

or you know, took you out on a nice, romantic date

you don’t really know how it works nowadays

but every time you think you’ve been discovered, he proceeds to completely do a 180

one time, the two of you were sitting on the couch watching, aptly enough, the notebook

when jungwon leans over incriminatingly, close enough to kiss you and you’re just about to turn your head, excited that jungwon has decided to make the first move

only for him to grab the remote and turn up the volume

which, in hindsight, does nothing to confirm that jungwon feels the same way about you as you feel about him

but it doesn’t really matter

we live in a delusional world and you’re the reigning monarch so it all works in your head

but other than the fact that you were most definitely crushing on your neighbor

the two of you were basically inseparable

it was like some higher being wanted you to suffer

bc you and jungwon got along SO WELL

and he just...didn’t even connect the dots

or if he did, he didn’t say anything about the tension between you two (that you might’ve accidentally somewhat have made up)

but all in all, jungwon and you had a pretty nice summer

some days you’d go to the beach and just watch the stars while drinking beers

some days you’d go to the little kiddie theme park that the neighboring town has just because their fried ice cream was insanely good

“we’re probably going to get diabetes, three different heart conditions, and certified obesity from these things.”

“...well the universe shouldn’t have made the human body too weak for fried ice cream then.”

“has it ever crossed your mind that fried ice cream simply should just not exist?”

“never.”

that summed up pretty much your entire friendship with jungwon

but no matter how close you became with him, it still felt like he was holding himself back a little bit - although, it killed you, you understood

for starters, he’d disappear off the face of the planet for two or three days before coming back to you with the same calm yet insane energy that only jungwon could carry

on top of that, he seemed to be losing a lot of weight lately - which was probably what was leading to the hair loss as well

and whenever you guys weren’t hanging out, he was pretty much always at the hospital

you’d mentioned gently a couple times that you were worried for him bc you were worried that his job was working him too hard (so as to not tip him off)

(hence the long hours at the hospital and the weight/hair loss)

but jungwon always gave you a tight smile and changed the subject

so you slowly learned to just drop it and not push him

you had no clue that jungwon was struggling with how to tell you the truth behind all those hours and the weight loss

you had no clue that jungwon was head over heels in love with you

you, y/n l/n, were completely unaware that jungwon knew exactly how you felt because he felt the same exact way

you had no clue that you were catching feelings for the terminally ill jungwon yang - according to jungwon yang

jungwon had liked you from the beginning, honestly

the almost comical way you fretted over him when you accidentally pied him, only to see rashes on his neck

the way that your eyes would light up when you were talking about how you wanted to teach

the way that your nose crinkled when jungwon brought home asparagus for you to experiment with one day

the way your eyes fall to his lips and then back up hurriedly, as if you’re scared that he’s going to find out you like him the same way that he likes you

which he does.

but jungwon yang also has terminal cancer.

which meant that he was absolutely never going to tell you about his feelings and let you tell him about yours

because he didn’t want to know that when he left this earth, he left someone who loved him behind on it

he’s scared

he’s scared that you wouldn’t move on (was that his ego speaking? perhaps)

or that you wouldn’t understand why jungwon had taken so long to acknowledge his feelings

or worst of all, jungwon was so fucking terrified that you would leave his side if you knew that he had terminal cancer

because that’s a burden that not many people were willing to take on voluntarily

so he stuff his feelings down deep into his stomach, where his heart can’t reach them

and it is the one thing that he regrets most

little does he know that you’re well aware of the fact that jungwon had cancer

jake had called you one day, out of breath and shaken to the core with worry

his friend jungwon had called jake and collapsed mid-call, three days before you met jungwon officially, and the line had gone silent

jake had begged you to drive jungwon to the hospital

which you obviously did, the second you found jake’s spare key

and managed to haul jungwon into your beat up toyota

and even in his semi-conscious state, you couldn’t help but think that he was the most gorgeous person that you’d ever seen in your life

and that you really wanted to get to know him

jungwon never knew that you were the one who had driven him to the hospital, since jake was the only one in the room when he awoke, finding out from the doctor that he had collapsed due to the toll of treatment on his body

you’d instructed jake to keep the news of you driving jungwon a secret

jungwon’s cancer wasn’t exactly public information, and you hated to think that jungwon would have a certain impression of you and that you’d never be able to speak to him normally

which is why you figure that jungwon simply just doesn’t want to want anyone at this point in his life

but you can’t help it

you like him so much that it starts to hurt

and you have to let it out

you have to tell him just how much you love him

before the love starts eating you from inside out

jungwon is silent when you blurt it out one day, while the two of you are standing in the kitchen, cooking with a random louis armstrong song playing in the background

you’re somewhat aware of what jungwon is going to say before he says it

but you let him say it anyway

“i’m not sure i want to get into a relationship right now.”

“that’s fine. i didn’t tell you because i wanted you to respond; i told you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

the louis armstrong song just continues to play and the two of you continue to cook in silence

it never grows awkward between the two of you

even with your feelings out in the open, everything stays the same

the two of you still tiptoe the line of friends and something more without ever crossing over to the other side

until that one day

jungwon had planned to finally put his big boy pants on and tell you how he feels

fuck the cancer

fuck his hesitation

fuck everything

he just wanted you to know that he liked you too

and that you were the reason why he was still smiling and dancing his way through this summer, even though he’d thought that he wouldn’t be able to smile like that anymore

he was all ready too

he’d gotten you flowers, put on your favorite song and cooked you your favorite food

he pushes down the funny feeling in his stomach that had been bugging him for the past couple of days, chalking it up to nerves because he was finally acting on his feelings

but that would be the nail in the coffin

the last thing that jungwon remembered was the feeling of swaying before falling to the floor, seeing jake sim’s shoes run over to where he was

and then everything went black

when jungwon woke up, the doctor had to inform him once again that he had collapsed

that the funny feeling in his stomach was no silly joke, but the cancer attacking him from inside out aggressively

they tell him that they had to perform emergency surgery to replace his kidney, which was damaged beyond repair, something that no one had been able to trace previously

he was lucky, the doctor said to them

there was a patient who was in a car crash in the operating next to him and the kidney had been in perfect condition

the doctor continued, saying how lucky jungwon was that the kidney had been compatible for his body, stating that the likelihood of his body being able to beat the cancer that had been destroying him increasing significantly

but jungwon isn’t listening

everything felt wrong.

jungwon could feel it in his heart

it wasn’t right

he swallows and asks the doctor the name of the patient

but he knows the doctor cannot reveal information like that

it doesn’t matter

once he sees jake burst through the doors, tears streaming down his cheeks, jungwon knows

“it was her, wasn’t it.”

jake just falls to his knees, sobs wracking his body and the doctor sees himself out

“she wanted me to tell you that she was happy that it was her before you.”

jungwon just falls back against the pillow, staring up the ceiling, unable to feel or think of anything

he just felt numb

even at your funeral, just a week later, jungwon is unable to think

he’s numb

completely frozen

unable to move on

and when he’s asked to pay his respects, all he can do is touch your coffin, his tears finally falling

“i’m so grateful you pied me in the face that day, y/n. i wish i had - i wish i had told you, i like you too. and i’ll get pied in the face with a truckload of peaches if it meant that you could come back to me. to come back to me to at least let me tell you that i like you. the same way you like me.”

he laughed cynically through his tears.

“you don’t have to respond. i just wanted to tell you because i wanted you to know that i like you. a lot.”

jungwon never falls in love again after that, unable to forget the memories the two of you had shared in that short but sweet summer.

and every year, on the year that you’d given your life to jungwon, he eats a peach pie, wishing that you were there to chide him and eat it with you, louis armstrong playing in the background

[supernova-stardust]

i should be working on about a million other things, but instead i started writing a new jegulus fic lmao

modern au, sirius and regulus have a good relationship, coffee shop au, regulus learns why life is worth living (spoiler: it’s james. and a cat.)

untitled, 2769 words, unfinished but this snippet leaves off at a good point

***vague mentions of sui attempt, nothing specific or descriptive***

fic after the break 🖤

Regulus thought he knew loneliness before, but nothing prepared him for the emptiness that he was left with upon returning home after his hospitalization. One of the stipulations of his discharge was that he couldn’t stay home alone for the first couple of weeks and so his older brother, Sirius, trails through the door behind him with a gym bag full of clothes and other things he deemed necessary. He closes the door to Regulus’ apartment behind him then drops the bag on the floor next to him as he kicks off his combat boots. Regulus stares at the mismatched socks on his feet, one green and one blue, and wonders if there will ever be a time when he learns to care so little about details like that. Where Sirius learned to care less about what other people think about him and the way he presents himself, Regulus internalized perfection in every facet of his life.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” Regulus says as he turns away and walks further into his apartment that feels less like home than it ever did. He can’t say that he found comfort in the hospital, far from it, but something about his stay made everything here feel less and less like his.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice is thick with concern as he hangs his leather jacket on the hook in the entryway. “Can’t we just chill for a bit first? Maybe watch a movie or something?”

“I’m not gonna kill myself in the shower, Sirius,” he shoots over his shoulder and keeps walking towards the bathroom. “But I might if I don’t wash the film from the hospital off my skin.”

Sirius storms up behind him and grabs his shoulder, whipping him around to look him in the eyes. “Don’t fucking joke like that. Not yet. I really thought I lost you, you know.” His eyes well with tears and his face pales and before Regulus can comprehend what’s happening, he’s being pulled into a tight embrace. He’s pretty sure he’s been hugged more times in the past few weeks than he ever has in his entire life.

Regulus finds himself rubbing Sirius’ back, internally cringing at the idea of soothing his brother when he was the one who was pushed so far by the demands of his everyday life that he opted to end it. “I promise to stop making jokes about killing myself for one week if you let me go take a shower, deal?”

“Leave the door open?” Sirius asks as he pulls away and wipes away the tears that have spilled down his cheeks.

“If it’ll make you feel better, sure.”

“It will.”

“Fine,” Regulus agrees as he walks down the hall to the bathroom. He shucks off his clothes and tosses them into the hamper. The hoodie and sweats were clean just a couple of hours ago, but he smells so strongly of hospital and sanitizer that he’s deemed them dirty already. He’ll probably need to wash them multiple times before he’s able to get the smell fully out of them and even then, he’s not sure that he wants to see those particular clothes ever again.

He scrubs at his skin, washing himself at least a half a dozen times before his skin turns pink and he decides that he smells enough like his typical cedar and sea salt soap to be considered clean. His hair is next. The hospital provided 3-in-1 product caused his usual soft waves to matte and lay flat on his head, so he takes his time scrubbing with his shampoo a few times before slathering more conditioner than he would typically ever use and gently detangles with his fingers. When his hair is detangled and his fingers are pruned, he finally turns off the water and wraps a towel around his waist.

Stepping out of the bathroom, he nearly trips. Sirius is sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, one leg bent and the other outstretched across the narrow hallway. He bangs his head on the wall when he looks up at Regulus with a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I was worried.”

“Are you gonna be like this the whole time?”

“At least for a few weeks,” he closes his eyes and leans his head on the wall behind him. “I’m a bit clingy now, Moony has encouraged my bad behavior and I’m afraid you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.”

“You’re literally 28, you’re not old.”

Sirius barks a laugh and tucks his feet under himself so he can stand up. “You’re my favorite brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Regulus deadpans as he walks past Sirius to his bedroom so he can put on a fresh change of clothes.

When Sirius had started dating Remus, or Moony as he tends to call him, Regulus knew their parents wouldn’t be happy, but he hadn’t thought it would change the trajectory of all of their lives. Sirius had decided to show their parents, rather than tell them, about his new boyfriend by bringing him home for Sunday dinner. Growing up Catholic, Sundays were a day reserved for devotion to God and family. Sirius was in college, Regulus a senior in high school still living at home, and had told their parents that he had been seeing someone special for a few months. Their parents invited Sirius and “the lovely lady” for dinner and instead it was Remus who walked through the door with his fingers interlaced with Sirius’. That was the most tense and silent meal that had ever occurred at the Black household.

When Sirius had returned home for the summer, their parents gave him an ultimatum: conversion therapy or be disowned. Sirius had packed his bags that night.

Regulus hadn’t heard from Sirius for a few months after that. He got accepted into his first choice college and tried to distract himself with schoolwork. He avoided getting close with any of his classmates and did his best to make himself scarce when his dorm mate, Evan, was around. He’d go into a local cafe with his noise canceling headphones and bury himself in studying while drinking more coffee than was probably healthy. On one of those days, Sirius had plopped himself in the seat across from him and glowered. His hair was longer, half of it pulled away from his face in a messy bun, and he had a few tattoos visible on his neck, collarbone, and knuckles.

“Why haven’t you been answering my texts or calls?” Sirius had asked when Regulus wrenched his headphones away from his ears.

“The fuck? You’re the one not answering me.” Regulus had slammed his laptop shut and returned the glare that Sirius was giving him.

Turned out, their parents had blocked the brothers from being able to communicate. When Regulus had confronted them about it, they claimed it was for Regulus’ own good. They didn’t want their ‘only son to be influenced by sinners.’ At that, Regulus had laughed and said that he’d known he was gay since he was a child. He hasn’t spoken to his parents since.

“What movie do you want to watch?” Sirius yells from outside his bedroom, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Do you really have to ask?” Regulus tugs his shirt on as he shouts back.

He hears Sirius groan before yelling “don’t you ever get sick of watching 10 Things I Hate About You?”

“No, actually.” Regulus deadpans, walking into the living room to see Sirius sitting on the couch fiddling with the remote. “There’s something soothing about watching Patrick fuck up so royally and still win the girl at the end.”

“You need more therapy.”

“Obviously. Now put the movie on, I’ll make popcorn.”

***

In the morning, Regulus goes through his morning routine and feels his nerves settle for the first time in weeks. The thing no one talks about when you’re hospitalized is how disrupted your everyday life is. Of course there’s the whole ‘in the hospital’ bit, but it’s the little routines that calm Regulus’ nerves that, because of his particular brand of mental illness, they always try to interrupt. Exposure therapy or something, they say. He thinks it’s bullshit.

And so he finds comfort in waking up at exactly seven, stretching for fifteen minutes, brushing his teeth, showering, being meticulous about his skincare and styling his hair. These are all little things that he usually takes for granted in his daily life that suddenly became impossible to uphold when other people were checking in on him and watching his every move. He dresses in an oversized burgundy knit sweater and black trousers and grabs his bag. Pulling out his headphones, he slips them around his neck, then double checks that his laptop is safely inside and heads towards the living area towards the front door. Sirius is laying on the couch with blankets wrapped tightly around his body and surprisingly, is awake and staring at his phone.

“Didn’t think you’d be awake yet,” he says to Sirius as he grabs his favorite black oxfords and slides them on.

Sirius grunts sleepily in response. “Didn’t get much sleep, if I’m honest. Your couch sucks.”

“You don’t have to stay,” Regulus says blandly. “I know they said I couldn’t be alone, but I’m fine—”

“Reggie, I’m staying.”

“You really don’t need to.”

“Me staying is the only reason you were allowed to leave, you know that. You were at that meeting.”

“Fine,” Regulus relents. “I’m going out, I’ll be gone for a few hours. Do you want coffee when I come back?”

“Are you going to Galactic Grounds?”

“I go there every day, Sirius. They’re the only place that makes good coffee around here.” Plus the guy that works there is cute as hell, but Regulus refuses to say that part out loud to his older brother. “Do you want coffee or not?”

“Yeah, I’d love coffee. Text me when you get there?”

“Sirius—”

“And when you’re headed home? I promise I’ll chill out in a few days, just humor me. Please?”

“Fine, bye.”

“Love you, Reggie.”

“Love you, Sirius.”

***

As he makes his way into the cafe, Regulus pulls his headphones down to hang around his neck. The shop is generally pretty quiet, but the whirring of machines and general chatter are enough to make him flinch anyway. He stands in line, waiting as patiently as possible and mindlessly scrolling on his phone. When he looks up and glances behind the counter, he sees the cute guy who always makes his coffee just right. James.

James looks up from the machine where he’s steaming milk and fumbles the little metal pitcher. The smile on his face lights up the entire shop. “Reg, hey!” James seemingly abandons the steaming milk to stare at him until the customer at the front of the line clears their throat. James’ cheeks turn red. He apologizes to the customer and then directs himself back at Regulus. “Can you stay so we can catch up?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. I’ll be here for a while. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on.” He really didn’t. The novel he’s been working on isn’t exactly going anywhere and his and Sirius’ Uncle Alphard made sure that all of their needs were met, so ‘work’ wasn’t exactly a necessity. It was just something to keep himself busy and to take his mind off things. ‘Things’ being mostly coping with mental illness and childhood trauma, if he’s honest.

Regulus goes to pull out his wallet to pay for the coffee when James stops him. “Nah,” he says. “On the house. It’s just a black coffee, Reg.”

Regulus cringes a bit at feeling like he owes back a favor, but tries to shake the feeling. This was something they worked on in group therapy; sometimes people just want to do nice things for you. Let them. And so he picks up the coffee and brings it over to his usual table in the corner. He settles into the comfortable booth and pulls out his laptop, staring at the screen asking for his password while he processes the fact that James wanted to catch up with him. Catch up? They’ve never even had a conversation beyond simple pleasantries.

He moves to readjust his headphones over his ears when he notices James throwing his apron on the rack near the bar and striding over to where he’s seated.

“Hey,” James says as he noisily pulls a chair out so he can sit. When he sits, he scooches himself in, the chair dragging and screeching the whole time. Regulus does his best not to make an expression at the sounds, but clearly his face betrays him because James quickly apologizes.

“Hi,” Regulus tentatively replies. He has no idea what he’s doing, normally he avoids conversations like this. The rehearsed small talk and polite niceties are fine for transactional interactions, but sitting here with James staring at him, he feels exposed. “So,” he tries. “What’s up?”

“Not much,” James grins. “How about you? You usually come in daily and I haven’t seen you for weeks. Did you do anything fun? I missed seeing you.”

Regulus flinches at that. Of course sweet, wholesome James would immediately want to know what fun and exciting things he got up to while he was away. It would never even cross his mind that Regulus had disappeared because he tried to off himself, then when Sirius found him, he’d been hospitalized for weeks. “No,” Regulus says in as level of a tone as he can manage. “I didn’t do anything fun, but I did do lots of crafts.”

“Oh, uh— Okay. That’s cool. I didn’t know you were crafty.”

“I’m not.”

James stares at him in confusion before he laughs, bright and carefree. “Fuck, you’re funny Reg. I don’t even think you mean to be.”

“Look, I do have a lot of work to do—”

“Sorry, yeah. My break is almost over too, but I just wanted to… I know this isn’t professional or anything, and honestly I’ve been avoiding it because I know this is a weird dynamic where I make you the perfect coffee every day and you don’t wanna lose that in case it goes poorly, but I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while and just— You not being around for a bit made me worried I wouldn’t get a chance to ask you again, so while I still have the guts, will you let me take you out sometime?”

“You want to go out on a date… with me?” Regulus has never heard anything more ridiculous in his life. This sunshine golden retriever of a man wanted to take him out on a date?

“I mean— Sorry if I read you wrong, if you’re not interested in guys, or uh… me, that’s cool. I’ll keep making your perfect coffee and no harm done. I just figured I’d shoot my shot, y’know?”

“I am— Interested. In guys.” Regulus pauses for a moment, feeling awkward and unsure of himself. He hasn’t had anyone ask him out on a proper date before. Typically, he just goes about things the old fashioned way: dating apps and swiping until he finds a reasonable match. It never goes well, but it never goes poorly enough that it’s stopped him from the cycle either. When he looks at James, really takes him in and realizes that he hasn’t explained that he wants to go on the date, he quickly adds, “I’m interested in you too. I’ve always thought you were cute.”

James beams then hands him his phone. “Can you enter your number? I’ll text you and we can make more concrete plans?”

At first, Regulus is shocked by the casualness at which James just… hands him his phone. Then he realizes that James probably never had parents who pried or jealous ex boyfriends who demanded to read every text exchange. He enters his phone number in a new text and texts himself the star emoji so that he has James’ number too and hands back his phone.

James glances at his phone and then asks, “Why the star emoji?”

“For my name.”

James stares at him in confusion, but as he opens his mouth to ask he hears his co-worker calling out for him to come back from his break. “Fuck, I’m late. Sorry—”

“Go, James.”

“Yeah, I’ll text you later okay?”

“Okay.” Regulus smiles softly as he watches James stand up from the chair across from him and rush back to his place behind the bar.

[creadigol]

iff you want could you maybe continue this? this ask is a request ofc and idk if you do continuation, so if you don't want to then it's okay!! ^_^

Hey y’all! Apologies for the long absence, but I’m back in town and have finally come up with a continuation of my Hero Domestic Violence/Abuse snippet. 

I have had many requests to continue this one so I spent a lot of time trying to make it good! 

As before, there are very heavy mentions of such topics stated above in this snippet as well as mentions of violence, emotional abuse and choking. Please be safe my darlings! I love y’all!

Part 1

Hero must have blacked out or entered into some sort of daze, because the next thing they knew Hero was sitting on an exam table in what must have been one of Villain's many bases. 

Though the room itself was no doubt a medical facility, Hero knew this by the various medical equipment and smell of antiseptic, but there was a certain ambiance about the room which did not match any hospital or medical offices Hero had been to before…and Hero had been to many. 

If Hero only ever went to one, people would catch on. So Spouse was always sure to bring Hero to a different facility every time. 

Everytime. 

God, this was a mess. 

This room wasn’t lit like typical exam rooms. Rather than harsh fluorescents of busy ER rooms the lights held a warm sunlit-type glow. Welcoming, yet still bright enough to see. Instead of the stupid grey-white walls which everyone had switched to in the early 2000’s, it was bright wood paneling. Oak of some kind, Hero guessed. It complimented the warm glow quite nicely. 

And it was warm! So warm! Villain must have had the heat up to at least 75 and Hero was basking in it! 

At home, Spouse kept the heating down to 65, due to their powers causing them to run hot. Hero didn’t mind of course, they understood, but it did cause Hero to feel cold constantly. They had never had much in the bodyfat department and there was more than one night when Hero would go and take a bath just to unclench their frozen muscles. 

Until Spouse complained about the water bill that is. 

Taking stock once more of the room they were in, Hero noticed that the main door had been left open by a crack. Not that they could have gotten up and run out, not with their side, but they wondered if Villain had done this to make them feel more comfortable. 

Speaking of Villain, they had yet to reappear. Villain and Henchman had helped Hero to a car after the rather embarrassing display on the rooftop and once they had made it to this base, deposited Hero here and left. That had been about twenty minutes ago. 

Maybe they were planning something nefarious? What if this was a kidnapping? Honestly, this was the weakest Hero had ever been in front of Villain. It would be easy, tricking them into willingly walking into a trap with the promise of medical help…Hero had been a mess after all. Supervillain wouldn’t have hesitated in killing Hero on the spot. 

But then again, Villain was not Supervillain. Hero had seen Villain display acts of humanity on several occasions. Sure, they broke the law and believed their government to be the ultimate evil, but they never went in for harming those who didn’t deserve it. 

Didn’t deserve it? God, Hero was starting to think like Villain. No one deserved to be hurt. That was Hero’s motto. 

Things really were confusing right now.

Maybe they should just go home. Surely, Spouse would understand why they didn’t answer their texts for the past few hours. An hour of yelling tops and then Spouse would see the error of their ways and apologize and try to make up for the original fight in the first place by a heated night of…

Hero stopped that train of thought. No, this had to stop. Hero had to get out of the relationship and start thinking straight again…but, then again, Spouse held all the cards. The apartment and car were in Spouse’s name, their bank account was joint, the phone plan was set up by Spouse because they could negotiate better on cellular deals…not to mention, Spouse was more powerful than Hero. Much more powerful than Hero. Even back at the Academy Hero had never won at hand to hand against them. It was what made them seem so strong and confident and…perfect at the time. 

Hero suddenly realized what they were doing and how it would not end well. There was no way Villain could hold against Spouse when it really came down to it. Spouse was constantly bragging about how if Villain had been assigned to them and not Hero, the problem would have been resolved years ago. Hero didn’t want that on their conscience. 

Perhaps they should look at the texts…just to assess the situation. Damage control. 

They picked up their phone. 

As the screen lit up a voice interrupted Hero before they could look at the no doubt anger fueled words. 

“Hero,” Villain stood in the doorway holding gauze, antiseptic, a board of some kind and an ice pack. “Sorry, had a hard time finding an ice pack that was the right size. We’ve gotta get that swelling down on your neck or else you’ll never be able to harass me with those classic witty comebacks again.” 

Though it was said jovially, Hero could sense the hardness behind the tone. Not to mention the look of hatred as Villain glanced at the phone. 

Wanting to respond, but not being able to, Hero nodded once. 

“Great!” Villain strode over and placed everything on the side table. Picking up the board, Hero saw it was a dry erase. Villain handed it to them along with a red marker. 

“Henchman uses this to put up daily reminders for everyone. They thought it would serve for you to tell us what ails you.” Villain glanced back at the door, “They wanted to come in and help, but I didn’t know if you would want that. Figured I’d ask first.” 

Hero couldn’t help the small smile. They had always liked Henchman. Like Villain, they certainly had committed their fair share of crimes and violence, but they also seemed to live by a code. Unlike Supervillain. 

If it hadn’t been for Henchman, Hero was sure they would have passed out on that rooftop and who knows who would have found them if that happened. Hero uncapped the marker. 

Henchman can come in. 

Villain smiled, “Anyone ever tell you your penmanship is crazy good? God, it’s like looking at Victorian script.” 

 They turned towards the doorway once more, “They said it’s fine Henchman!” 

In an instant Henchman was walking through the door. They must have been just waiting on the other side. 

“Hey Hero,” they said. “Hope you’re doing better.” 

Hero nodded at Henchman. 

“Good,” Henchman looked between Hero and Villain for a moment, it looked like they were debating who to talk to next. They settled on both of them. “Looks like it’s just going to be us. Doctor said they couldn’t make it until morning. Still at that conference.” 

Villain nodded as if they knew this was going to be the case and addressed Hero. 

“Anything serious? Or are you okay to wait for the Doc?” 

Hero thought for a moment. Their neck should be fine with the ice, their jaw had certainly been hit harder, but their side…

I think everything is fine, but I’m not sure about my side.  Hero wrote. They gestured to their left side as Villain and Henchman read the script. 

“Alright, let's take a look then. Shirt off.” Villain ordered. 

Hero hesitated. Oh, right. To look at their side, Villain would have to have their shirt off. And to take off their shirt was to expose the…history written across their chest, back and torso. 

Hero was shy about their body. Sure, there was the occasional scar made by Spouse, but most of them were from past fights while Hero had been off hero-ing. They knew it was an occupational hazard, but they also knew it wasn’t great to look at. God only knew the many times Spouse had commented on their unsightly appearance during their intimate times. 

Villain seemed to notice the hesitation and said, “What? It’s not like I haven’t seen it all in this line of work. You should have seen Henchman last month. Supervillain’s Henchman got ‘em pretty bad.”

Henchman nodded, “Not pretty. Gained me a few cool new scars though.” 

Cool new scars, huh? Perhaps it won’t be so bad. 

Hero took off their shirt slowly. It was difficult and painful at first, as it zipped in the back, but Henchman wordlessly walked to the other side of the bed and helped. Villain supporting Hero’s side as they undid the clasp and unzipped. 

“Want to take off the mask as well?” Henchman asked. 

Hero made a face. 

“We’ve already seen your face. Remember? Three months ago it fell off while we were grappling in the snow.” Villain smirked. 

Hero peeled the mask off. They had forgotten about that. The snow had made the normally sticky mask slide off. It was something they had never told Spouse. 

Once deprived of their shirt and mask, Villain took a step back and surveyed the damage. Hero tried not to squirm under the gaze. 

Hero expected Villain and Henchman to make disgusted noises or grunts of anger at their bruised up side and swollen jaw, along with their neck, but instead Villain looked calculating. A slight hint of irritation coming though with their twitching eyebrow. 

“Alright, I’ll have to feel those ribs. They don’t look broken, but it’s best to make sure.”

Hero nodded their permission to Villain and tried to sit straight. 

“No, no, don’t straighten up yet,” Villain flew to their side. They placed one hand on hero’s back while the other poked and prodded their ribs. 

Everytime Hero hissed or flinched, Villain apologized and would move onto another part. It was strange. This whole night was strange. Hero had never seen Villain act this way before. Sure they had their own scruples, but Villain was never…gentle. 

Henchman stood off to the side looking rather anxious as Villain examined Hero. That was another strange thing. Why did they both seem to care?

“Well, good news, they’re not broken. Bad news, I’ll still have to wrap them.” 

Henchman immediately grabbed some wrappings from the cupboard behind them and handed them to Villain. 

“So, Hero,” Villain began as they tightly wrapped their ribs. “Want to tell us how this happened? We need to know if we’re going to treat your injuries effectively.” 

Once again Hero could tell Villain was stating things conversationally for their benefit. Hero made no move for the marker board. 

“We already know who did it, all I want to know is how,” Villain continued. 

Hero thought back. It had seemed like a haze when it happened. All the adrenaline and fear. The normal evening that went from good to horrific. The slight mess up on Hero’s part, the yelling, the grabbing, the throwing…the hands. The hands on their person…the hands on their neck…

Hero felt tears slip past their eyes once more, the sadness and fear coming back. Their jaw shook with unshed sobs. 

They felt the marker and board being pressed into their hands. 

“You don’t need to push yourself. I just need to know what to check on you,” Villain’s voice was soothing and once again uncharacteristically gentle. 

Hero shook as they wrote; the script that Villain had complimented earlier suffered for it. 

It’s never been this bad. Hero wrote. 

They knew it was a cliche response, but they also needed Villain and Henchman to know that it had never gone this far before. Henchman made a noise in the back of their throat as they read the words.

“How bad?” Villain prodded. 

Before, Hero hesitated in writing. How could they word this? 

Before I could always justify it as my fault. I mess up alot. I’m not so good at relationships. 

They waited for them to read this before erasing for more room. Villain had their jaw set and Henchman’s cheeks were getting red. 

I know it’s stupid. I know it’s bad. I just wanted to pretend it away. That was easier. I’m not stupid, I know what’s happening. 

Villain nodded at the words. Hero didn’t know why they were starting out like this. There was just a part of them that needed Villain and Henchman to know that they were still competent. Despite putting themselves in this situation, they weren’t stupid. There was just so much more going on. 

“I don’t think you’re stupid Hero. I never have. I meant it when I said you’re the best this city’s ever seen,” Villain said this while not breaking eye contact or blinking. As if the stare itself would get the words into Hero’s brain.

Hero nodded with a small smile. They needed that. 

They’ve never gone so far before. The other times, I knew I would recover. But this time…Hero stopped writing again. Once again looking for words. They let Villain and Henchman read. 

“What happened this time?” Henchman asked softly. Hero couldn’t tell if the softness was for comfort or if they were so angry they couldn’t raise their voice higher. 

This time, Hero spelled, I really thought they’d kill me.

Their hands shook terribly now and they had to stop and take a breath. 

Villain looked up at the ceiling for a moment while Henchman turned around. It seemed this news really affected them. 

“How?” Villain once again looked Hero in the eyes. They didn’t even try to hide the anger now. 

I can’t remember everything. I know I was thrown into our coffee table. Spouse hit me in the face, Hero paused and let them read while gesturing to their jaw. 

Villain nodded for them to continue. 

They’ve never tried to choke me before… Hero couldn’t seem to finish that one. 

“I understand,” Villain said. “Anything else?” 

Hero thought for a moment and then shook their head. That had been the most of it. The violence itself had only lasted a couple minutes, but it had been the most painful couple minutes of their life. Not only physically, but emotionally. They had never felt so betrayed. 

“Are you going to leave them?” Henchman asked. Hero looked at them and noticed fear in their eyes. Henchman was very concerned with Hero’s answer. Villain made a gesture at Henchman, but they were undeterred. 

“Are you going to leave them?” Henchman repeated. 

Hero uncapped the marker again. 

I want to. 

“But you feel you can’t,” Villain finished the sentence for Hero. 

Hero nodded. 

It never ends well. I know I need to, but they hold all the cards. Hero shrugged sadly. 

“Who cares?” Henchman said angrily. “So they have your money or whatever? That’s not worth you!”

Hero was touched by the sentiment, but felt the need to explain. 

It’s not only that. They’re more powerful than me. More powerful than anyone really. I shouldn’t even be here. The last time someone tried to help…it was bad.

Villain felt their blood freeze, “What do you mean more powerful?” 

It was hard to think of anyone more powerful than Hero. Except themselves of course. 

“Who tried to help?” Henchman asked at the same time. 

Hero grimaced, 

Do you remember Other Hero?

“Oh god,” Henchman whispered. 

“Your Spouse did that?” Villain asked, shocked. 

Hero nodded. 

I don’t know what they will do to anyone else, or the city itself if I’m not there. I hate it, but it’s the only way I know to protect everyone. 

They looked at Hero to continue.

I knew it was bad not long after our second anniversary, but by then Spouse was too dangerous. They need to be in jail, not only for me, but for everyone else they’ve hurt. I just don’t know anyone who can take them. 

Villain made a noise, but Hero raised a hand to silence them while they wrote more. 

In a way this is my ultimate sacrifice to protect my city.

“Hero,” Villain breathed. 

Henchman looked like they had tears in their eyes, “Hero, I’m going to hug you now if that’s alright.” 

Hero looked at Henchman quizzically, but nodded. 

Henchman wrapped their arms around Hero carefully and squeezed with a force that was both powerful, yet calming. 

“You really are the best the city’s ever seen,” Henchman spoke against Hero’s hair. “All this time you’ve been living in hell and it was to protect all of us.” 

Hero released more tears. They patted Henchman awkwardly on the back. 

“They’ve always been a hugger,” Villain chuckled as they watched the scene. “If you can’t tell, Henchman has been a fan of yours for a while.”

Henchman released them with an undignified HEY at Villain. Villain shrugged and turned their attention back to Hero. 

“Hero, I don’t care what danger it might put us in. I knew this was going to be messy the moment I saw you on the roof. Anyone who can take you on is going to be a threat. I knew that and helped you anyway.” 

Hero nodded at Villain’s words. 

“But what I need to know now is who Spouse really is. I don’t think I’m far off in thinking that they’re a part of the hero agency?” 

Hero nodded, there was hesitation in their eyes.

“And they’re more powerful than the other heroes.” 

Hero looked down, but nodded again. 

“And you two went to the academy at the same time didn’t you?” 

Hero winced and nodded. 

“And came to the city at the same time.” 

Hero closed their eyes and nodded. 

“Villain, what are you getting at?” Henchman asked slowly. In their voice Hero could tell they were on the same train of thought, but didn’t want to believe it. 

“Hero,” Villain waited for Hero ‘s red rimmed eyes to look up and meet their gaze. “You’re married to Superhero aren't you?” 

Hero nodded. 

“Shit.” Henchman said. 

Hero nodded their agreement. 

There was silence while everyone processed the news, Villain and Henchman the knowledge and Hero for sharing it. Finally Villain broke it. 

“Well,” they clapped their hands together, “Here’s what we’re going to do. Tonight we do nothing.”

“Hero, tonight I want you to focus on yourself. I know you want to look at your phone, but maybe hold off until tomorrow morning, yeah?” Hero made to protest, but Villain continued. 

“Look at it like this. You said this is how you protect the city. Now I don’t doubt that, especially knowing who Spouse is; but I want you to picture it like you're on a sinking ship. Lots of people need saving, but you can’t exactly help them into the lifeboats if you yourself are still in the water.” 

Hero wrinkled their eyebrows. 

“You’ve got to climb into the lifeboat first before you can pull anyone else in.” 

Hero was taken aback. That was…that was…really good advice. 

Villain smiled, “So for tonight, leave the phone and get some rest. We can make a plan tomorrow about what to do. You’re no longer in this alone. I don’t want someone like Spouse protecting my city.” 

“You’re not alone in this anymore,” Villain reiterated. 

Hero couldn’t help the smile on their lips or the hope in their chest. They weren’t alone in this. Perhaps this time, Superhero really could be caught. Hero could stop pretending. They suddenly felt so tired.

Seeing this, Henchman helped Hero lay down and placed the thin, long ice pack on their bruised neck.  

“I’ll stay here a while, there’s an all night Friends marathon on right now,” Henchman nodded to the TV on the wall, “I always fall asleep during that show.” 

Hero knew Henchman just wanted to keep an eye on them in case their throat swelled anymore, but they appreciated the company. It had been a while since they had people around them that knew everything and still wanted to be with them. They nodded. 

“Great,” Henchman walked over to the television to get it started. Villain followed them. 

“Once they fall asleep initiate plan orange,” Villain whispered so Hero wouldn’t hear. Henchman kept flipping through channels, but Villain saw their eyes harden a moment. 

“Are you sure?” They whispered back. 

Villain nodded as they looked at the channel guide.“Yes. Tell Supervillain we have a mutual enemy,” Villain glanced back at Hero, “And the key to defeat them. Once and for all.”