#like sorry i’m sick?? i really can’t help it???

[g00d--m0urning]

Not Another Song About Love (ch.8)

An aquarium date- not a date, simply Tony trying to show you how to have a little fun after managing to convince you to skip out on work!

He's going to make you have fun, or his last name isn't Bocks!

--

Kpop Demon Hunters deleted scene core

jk, I just love the stereotypical aquarium date too much not to include it, I just add that slow burn flavor to it.

Reader is so jealous, they're sick 🥲

I'm also totally projecting this chapter with the aquarium stuff, but I think it's accurate for reader too! They're so swamped with work that they've sort of forgotten that there's other things they love to do!

Justice for Jean Loo! I've made him a marine biologist because that's the ending he deserved

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

The mechanic called this morning, said that your baby was finally ready to pick up. That’s great! You can’t wait to get behind her wheel again…But you can’t really remember the last time you had her professional checked. Of course, you go through all the average routine fixes: oil changes, brake pad replacements, anything to keep her in perfect shape.

However, it’s probably time to get her checked by a real mechanic, so you asked him to keep her for another day; only so he can make sure she’s in tip-top shape. You go to open the passenger door to Tony’s car before realizing that there’s somebody already in the seat. You pause for a second, your tired brain trying to catch up with the sudden change of routine, finally managing to pull yourself into the backseat.

“Shit, sorry, Doc, did I forget to text you?” Tony asks, turning around to look at you, smiling sheepishly, “I’ve gotta give Sugar a ride to their appointment.”

Sugar, not you, but his… friend. Sam’s friend, Beverly’s friend, the homeowner. From what Sam has told you, they’re a little bit more than friends with everybody too- Which is fine! Honestly, good for them!

“You did forget…Yeah,” you confirm, looking between him and the passenger awkwardly.

“I’m really sorry, I hope you don’t mind,” they apologize, a warm, kind smile on their lips, “My car is broken and Tony offered to drive me to my doctor’s appointment.”

Oh, what a coincidence! Tony must be offering rides to people left and right! What a gentleman, “No, no, you’re perfectly fine! You’ll never believe this, but my car’s broken down too, and Tony’s been driving me around the past few weeks.”

“Yeah, he’s always been nice like that, even if he acts like a dick,” they stage whisper to you, but the way they eye Tony, smirking at him makes it seem otherwise.

“Uh-huh,” you nod, laughing awkwardly, scowling at the back of their heads when they both turn back forward.

God, you thought listening to Tony flirt was bad, but whatever is going on between them…The back seat might as well be a cuck chair. They have inside jokes, casually-uncasual touches, and there’s a softness in Tony’s eyes you’ve never seen.

They get dropped off first, saying goodbye to Tony with a peck to his chin, knocking their foreheads together. Tony’s got a stupid grin on his stupider face, turning around to look at you again; hey, he’s finally remembered that you exist!

“You can get in the passenger seat now, Sugar,” he tells you, jutting his head at the passenger seat.

Now, you’re ‘Sugar’ again too, oh goody! “No, I’m good back here, it’s comfortable. I’m enjoying it,” you say, shaking your head. You’d rather not sit in a seat that’s already warm with someone else’s butt heat.

“I’d hope so, I’ve done a lot of work wearing it in,” he says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, winking at you through the rearview mirror.

“I’m sure you have,” you mutter, grimacing at the thought of what ‘wearing it in’ entails. You’re sure his Sugar’s helped with that: ugh.

Your stomach hurts the longer you and Tony sit in silence. It’s just because you know you’re stewing in god knows how many bodily fluids! If you think about it too hard, you’ll be adding another one onto the floorboards.

You’re quick to get out of the car, barely allowing Tony to fully stop the car before you’re out, slamming the door behind you.

“Hey, hey! Don’t slam my door because your boxers are in a bunch,” Tony scolds, following you out of the car, an annoyingly casual smirk on his face. “What’s your problem?” he asks, grabbing your wrist, stopping you from entering the building.

“I don’t have a problem,” you tell him, your face tight, lips pulled back in a smile that could rival the most evil of old hags, “Oh, yeah! By the way, my car is fixed, so your services are no longer required!”

Oh, your car is fixed. That’s great! That means Tony doesn’t have to run around town and wake up at the ass crack of dawn, so he can get you to work at the early times you somehow manage to work everyday.

“That’s good, means I can finally start sleeping in again,” Tony quips, releasing your wrist, “I’ll drive you to the mechanic,” he says; he can drive you somewhere one last time, for old time’s sake.

“I’ll walk,” you retort, rubbing your wrist… He didn’t think he grabbed you that hard, did he hurt you? Shit.

“Or I can drive you,” he insists, massaging the palm of his hand, “It’s a three mile walk.”

“I could use the exercise,” you shrug, turning away from him, swiping your card through the lock. It flashes red at you, so you try again; once more, nothing.

“Here,” he takes the card from you, knocking his hip against yours to bump you out of the way, trying his hand at unlocking the door. It flashes red at him too, “Hmm…”

“Oh, wowwww. Great job,” you sneer, snatching the card back from him, swiping it forcefully. No dice.

This is great! Not great for you, great for him, though! If he can convince you to play hooky, he gets another day with you- to bother you, of course! “Maybe the systems are down,” he suggests, watching you try the card every which way.

“I’d know if the systems were gone, they’d send a message or an email,” you scoff at him, smacking the card reader a couple of times. If he wasn’t so desperate, he’d find it amusing. Scratch that: it’s still amusing.

Your phone dings, momentarily forgoing your quest to unlock the door to read whatever notification has alerted you. You glare at your phone shoving it into your pocket, “…The systems are down…apparently one of the interns fucked something up last night.”

“Uh-huh,” he snorts, a knowing grin on his face, crossing his arms over his chest, “Maybe if you didn’t insist on getting to work so early, we wouldn’t be standing here like idiots.”

“I will kick you in the dick, shut up,” you hiss, directing your glare at him.

“Hey, I’m just saying,” he defends himself, raising his hands in a passive gesture, “You could always play hooky. Your job isn’t going anywhere.”

“I’m not--”

“C’monnnnn, be cool for once in your life, Doc,” he encourages, nudging his shoulder against yours, “Whadda like to do in your free time?”

You shove him away, taking a few steps back. You're chewing on your bottom lip, in thought. Jesus, do you really not have anything you do in your free time? Your whole life is eat, work, sleep, repeat. He’s going to change that.

“Do you really not have anything you like to do?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at you. You look good; it’s something he’s been noticing lately. He really likes you in a lab coat.

“Shut up, huh? I’m thinking,” you tell him, kicking him in the shin. “I used to like going to the aquarium,” you finally offer, picking at a hangnail.

You sweet, sweet thing. So innocent, so fucking nerdy. He sets his hands on your shoulders, dragging them up to your cheek, shaking your head once, “You are so geeky,” he whispers behind a thinly veiled laugh. “And what does ‘used to’ mean?”

“It means that the last time I went to the aquarium, I was twenty-one, leading a high school freshman group on a field trip through the aquarium for extra credit,” you explain, surprisingly not pushing him off.

“Mmm, I didn’t realize ‘tour guide’ was on your resume,” he teases, eyes darting over your face. He can see all the imperfections he’s never noticed from this distance. “You know what? Fine, let’s go to the aquarium.”

“I’d rather not,” you mutter, looking up at the sky, accidentally accentuating the dark half-moons underneath your eyes. “I’d rather go pick up my car and go home.”

“Too bad, so sad,” he fake pouts, swiping his thumb beneath your eye, tracing the edge of your dark circles.

The touch feels intimate; he’s only ever this close to someone when he plans to kiss them, and he certainly doesn’t plan on kissing you. He pulls back, taking a few steps away from you for good measure.

Tony clears this throat, running a hand through his hair to fix it, “Get your ass in the car,” he orders, grabbing your arm, pulling you over to the car, shoving you into the passenger seat.

“I’m pretty sure this counts as kidnapping,” you huff, pinching his knuckle skin with the edges of your fingernails for maximum pain.

“Nahhh, you’re an adult, not a kidnapping,” he jokes, sucking on his finger, where you pinched him.

“You’re so funny,” you say dryly, rolling your eyes at him, pressing your fingers into your temples.

“I know,” he chirps, draping an arm over the back of your seat while he drives.

Tony decides to go to an aquarium that’s further away; he wants to give the both of you a premium experience, alright? And some phony-baloney, local place just isn’t going to cut it! It’s got absolutely nothing to do with the way you’ve got your head tilted back to rest on the seat, or the way you look calm resting your eyes, and certainly has nothing to do with the way your hair is brushing against his arm!

He nudges you awake when he pulls into a parking spot, walking with you through the large parking garage silently until you wake up a little more. Your eyes sparkle at the sight of the building, widening just slightly that somebody who hasn’t been religiously staring at your face wouldn’t notice. Tony, however, notices.

“Need a map?” Tony asks, grabbing one of those flimsy paper maps that you’re certain to lose in approximately five minutes.

“What do I look like?” you ask, scowling at him as though he’s offended you by asking you if you need a map. “No, I don’t need a map.”

“Okayyy,” he puts the map back, snickering at your offense, “When we get lost, don’t blame me.”

You scoff at him, walking off without another word. He stares at your back, shaking his head before picking up his speed to catch up. You move through the aquarium with ease (maybe you didn’t need a map, damn), spending just enough time at each of the first few exhibits.

Then the first fun fact comes, something about sharks that he already can’t remember. Each exhibit gets a small factoid from you; you shoot them off with an envious ease. You’re so fucking smart about everything, he’s jealous.

“I have a friend you’d like,” he comments, watching you dodge excited children who run right past you. “Jean Loo, he’s a marine biologist, and he’s not really a friend, more of an acquaintance that I know,” one he knows way too intimately.

“That’s cool,” you nod, more focused on reading what’s written on the wall.

“Mhm, did you ever wanna be a marine biologist?” he asks, coming to stand next to you, vaguely skimming over the words painted on the wall.

“Eh, it occasionally crossed my mind as a teen, but never stuck,” you shrug, putting your hands in your pockets, moving over to the next thing to see.

“Hmm, you’re still a scientist, though. That’s close…Did you always want to be some sort of scientist?” he questions, paying attention to your expression.

“I don’t know, sort of, maybe…” you shrug again, picking at the dry skin on your bottom lip. “I sort of fell into the internship at Vortex.”

That surprises him: you love your job. It’s weird to think that you used to be a confused teenager, stressing over what you want to be as an adult; you’re so put together, so sure about your job and education.

“What about you, huh?” you ask, knocking your elbow into his side to draw his attention out of his thoughts, “Did you always want to be the host of hit TV show Fix It Ton?”

He chuckles, shaking his head, “Nah, I was supposed to go into the family business: fixing actual things, instead of relationships, y’know? And I did for a bit, but it didn’t work out.”

“Really?” you inquire, turning your head to look at you, a slight furrow in your brow, “I really hope the family business isn’t a mechanic deal. You’re obviously not good at that.”

“Hey!” he stomps on your foot, rolling his eyes at you, “It wasn’t, for your information it’s construction.”

“Ow, jerk!” you gasp, kicking him in the back of the leg, “I’m sure you were a horrible construction worker too!”

“I was,” he laughs, tracing his fingers over the painted turtles, “I mean, I wasn’t horrible, but it wasn’t for me. I didn’t do great in the real world.”

Shit, he shouldn’t have said that. ‘The real world’, what kind of idiot says that? You’re going to think he’s weird, and you’d be right. He can’t exactly explain to you that he used to be someone’s toolbox, can he? Jesus, you’d think he’s insane.

“I get that,” you say, walking over to the nearest exhibit, watching the colorful assortment of fish swim around. “I thought the internship was hard,” you sigh, dragging a hand down your neck, “the actual job gets harder everyday.”

Wow, Tony never thought he’d hear those words come out of your mouth. You make it seem like your job is easy breezy; it never occurred to him that you’ve ever struggled with it. He steps behind you, sliding his hands over your hips.

“Stop hogging all the space in front of the glass,” he presses his lips against your ear, moving you to the side, “Glass hog.”

“Uhm…Ha…Sorry,” you whisper, stepping away a few more times, putting a bigger gap between the two of you.

You’re blushing, he made you blush, or it’s the pink lights that the overhead LEDs have switched to, but he’s pretty sure he made you blush- for the second time! Oh, yeah; he’s still got it. Not that he doubted that he lost it, but it was getting on his nerves how immune to him you seemed!

“No problem, Sugar,” he winks at you, shuffling closer to you, “Any fun facts about what’s in here?”

“I’m not giving you a fun fact,” you scoff, pushing him away, “You’re such a jerk.”

“I’m not a jerk. I’m genuinely interested in your little facts,” he tells you, patting your head. Okay, that probably sounded a little teasing, a slight bit condescending, but he’s serious! He’s enjoying your facts!

“Sureeee,” you drawl, rolling your eyes at him, walking down the hall.

“Hey, hey, I’m serious, don’t walk away,” he pleads, jogging to catch up to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, so you can’t escape again.

“I’m going to take a piss, calm your tits,” you tell him with a quiet laugh, removing his arm from your shoulders, “Unless you want to come with me and hold my hand to make sure I don’t fall in, I’d like to go now, please.”

“I can, it’d be a greeting bonding experience,” he points out, waggling his eyebrows at you.

“You’re gross. I’m going now, buh-bye,” you flap your fingers at him, walking backwards into the restroom.

Tony isn’t waiting for you when you get out of the bathroom. You look around, trying to find him, to no avail. The crowd has thickened in the time you took to use the restroom and get out, so you’re not totally unconvinced that some girl swiped him up, or that he wandered off like a dog without a leash.

It’s fine; you can enjoy the aquarium without him. Your feet move on their own volition, guiding you to the jellyfish tank. You’ve always liked jellyfishes; there’s something about the faceless, boneless, blobs of a creature that captures you. They’re simple creatures, yet so effortlessly ethereal. You’re kind of jealous.

Scratch that, you’re incredibly jealous of the floating creatures. They have nothing to worry about: no school, jobs, friendship, not even relationships. Brainless little creatures that get to float through water, and sting its enemies, that feels like the ideal life.

Tony hadn’t meant to get separated from you, but he may or may not have gotten distracted by one of the sharks being fed! It was cool, sue him! It takes him a moment, but he finds you again, staring at the jellyfish.

He stands back, watching you watch the jellyfish. The blue lighting of the tank illuminates your face perfectly, washing over you in a way that makes it seem like you’re underwater yourself. There’s a depth in your eye, something sad, maybe even nostalgic.

“Hey,” he sidles up to your side, admiring you- the jellyfish! The gelatinous floating thing! Yep…And you, a little bit. “I was starting to think that you had an emergency.”

“Oh, sorry…You weren’t there when I finished, so I headed off by myself,” you murmur, not looking over at him. “Did you know that jellyfish reproduce asexually? Some of them are even capable of being practically immortal because of it.”

“So you’re telling me that if you copy the jellyfish, you can be immortal too?” he asks teasingly, bumping your elbow against his, “Since you’re asexual…y’know?”

“I got the joke,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest, exhaling deeply. “I was funny.”

“So funny that you forgot to laugh,” he quips, moving closer to you, only stopping when your shoulders are touching. “You okay, Doc?”

“Hmm?” your head finally moves, whipping to look at him, wide-eyed and owlish, like you’re just now realizing that he’s standing right there. “Oh, I’m fine. Sorry.”

“You’re good,” he assures with a smile, “I saw that there was a dolphin show in fifteen minutes, you wanna go grab seats?”

Your placid expression breaks into a grin, “I’d love to see the dolphin show,” you nod, grabbing his hand to drag him to the dolphin show.

“We’re sitting in the splash-zone,” he warns, keeping up with you, weaving through throngs of people.

“No, we’re not! I don’t have a change of clothes,” you respond, groaning when you get stuck in line, “or a poncho.”

“Yes, we are! I brought you here to have fun, and what’s more fun than the splash-zone of a dolphin extravaganza?” he asks rhetorically, standing on his tiptoes to see how many people are in line in front of you guys.

“We’re not going to get seats, the kids fill them up quickly,” you say, sounding oh-so-disappointed at the prospect.

“I’m more than happy to kick a kid out of a seat,” he promises, snickering when he gets a dirty look from the woman in front of you, who happens to have two young kids at her side.

“Please don’t kick…” you trail off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love it,” he says, fluttering his eyelashes at you. The line finally starts moving, and you guys make it in. “Look at that, two seats: in the splash-zone.”

It’s his turn to drag you, shoving you into the second row: the perfect splash-zone positioning. He sets his arm on the rest, and only then realizes that you’re still holding hands. You haven’t seemed to notice, so he doesn’t say anything; no harm in that, right?

The show starts right on time, the trainers coming out with dolphin’s, introducing them. Then, the tricks finally start. You drop his hand--which he isn’t totally disappointed about-- to cover your face, squealing as the cold water soaks you.

By the time the show is over, the both of you are positively drenched, but you’re laughing, and smiling, which is a win in his book. You decide to call it a day, slowly making your way out of the aquarium and to his car.

He walks you up to your apartment--or, rides the elevator up with you--sitting down on the couch with you, “So, Sugar, did you have fun?”

“I had--” you hesitate, looking away from him for a second before returning your gaze, “An adequate time.”

“That sounds like code for ‘Oh, yes, Tony! I had the best time ever, you’re the best at having fun!’” he teases, reaching over to poke your side, “C’mon, Sugar, admit it.”

“I already said I had an adequate time; that’s all you're getting,” you tell him, smacking his hand in retaliation.

He sighs dramatically, “You’re cruel to me, Sugar,” he says, twirling some of his, still damp, hair around his finger.

“I’d say sorry, but we both know I’d be lying,” you snort, leaning back on the couch, kicking your feet onto the coffee table.

Tony looks over his shoulder at the clock on the oven, internally wincing when he sees the time. You probably don’t want him to stay much longer, so he’d rather leave before you kick his ass up. He stands up, stretching his back with a groan.

“I should get out of here,” he says, bending back slightly to crack his spine.

“Oh…Why?” you ask, and if he didn’t know better, he’d say you look disappointed, “I mean, not that I’m complaining, it’s just that you normally find any excuse to linger.”

He could tell you the truth and admit that he’s trying to be considerate for once, that he wants you to get some rest, but he doesn’t. He can’t, “Some of us actually have hot dates to get to, Doc,” he tells him, flicking your forehead.

Oh, of course, he has a date. No duh. When does he not have a date? It’s probably with his Sugar. Lucky them- no, not lucky them; unlucky them, getting stuck on a date with Tony. You’d trade places with them, just so they don’t have to go through the torture.

“Well, goodnight then, Cupid,” you say, resting your head on your hand. “Enjoy your date.”

He did enjoy his date- not a date, today wasn’t a date. He did enjoy it, though. He got to see a new side of you today; one that’s a little more carefree, one that looked ethereal in the light of the jellyfish tank. He wants you to ask him to stay, but he can’t expect that from you.

“You know I will,” he winks, adjusting his shirt, to linger (because you’re right, like always, he tries to linger as long as he can). “Goodnight, Sugar. Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”

You snort, shaking your head at him as he leaves. Tony stands outside the closed door, staring at the knob. You don’t answer his telepathic pleadings to open the door and ask him to stay, so he takes his leave.

You’re under his skin the whole drive; he keeps seeing you in the passenger seat, lounging in it like you belong there. He hates it; you shouldn’t be infesting his mind the way you do, but you are. The worst part is that he doesn’t mind. He likes having you in his passenger seat, and likes you even more on his mind.

You really are cruel. He can’t help but want more. He’s shit out of luck, though. Your car is fixed, so tomorrow is the last day he’ll be driving you anywhere. It’s not the last of him you’ll see, not if he has any say in it.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

📦📦📦📦📦📦📦📦📦

☠☠☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑🚑

Love these!

Thank you!

27 for 📦

---

“I would argue that it’s you who is being weird,” Buck replies. 

“Fine, why are you being different?” Eddie amends. 

“Why do you…” Buck wants to ask it. He just wants to ask.

Why does Eddie keep doing this? Doesn’t he know what it’s doing? Can’t he think critically about it? Put himself in Buck’s shoes for a second? 

But that would be some sort of an admission. And admitting to something he won’t even let himself think about thinking about? No. No way. Not gonna happen. 

So, instead, Buck tries testing his hypotheses instead. 

“I thought you were just trying to reassure me that you’re okay with everything,” Buck says. “Like, a physical affirmation. And, uh, it’s okay. You know? If that’s why, you don’t have to. I trust you, alright? I know you’re here.”

Eddie is quiet for a minute. Buck thinks that he’s erred badly. That this will upset Eddie somehow. That this will break things.

It doesn’t.

---

27 for ☠️

---

“I’m sorry,” Chim says. “Really, I am. I… I handled this badly. I know I did. I didn’t mean to make you think any of this is about you.”

“It is about me,” Maddie says. “It’s my family. You’re my family. That’s the point.”

Chim nods. “I know. I know you are.”

“And I’m the first person you tell when something concerns our child,” Maddie says.

Chim grits his jaw. “I know.”

Maddie sighs. “But I’ve done that to you before… I do… I do understand.”

He exhales. 

“That doesn’t excuse it,” he says. “You were sick.”

“And you just found out you’re cursed,” Maddie reasons. 

There is that. 

“What can I do to make it right?” He pleads. 

---

27 for 🚑

---

“Naturally,” Eddie replies dryly.

It had been a somewhat last minute decision to invite Eddie’s parents. They haven’t been included in much, wedding planning wise. They have no real role today. Their presence is an olive branch, Hen thinks. Or Eddie’s response to their attempts at extending an olive branch. They’ve been working on it, she’s heard. Not to any great or sudden revelation or change, but in a small, inching forward type of progress. She hopes it’s for the best, but can’t be sure yet. One thing she is sure of? They will not be causing problems today. No one’s parents will. Hen and Maddie have a battle plan in either scenario. 

“How much time do we have?” Eddie asks after a moment, still evaluating his outfit in the floorlength mirror of his dressing room. 

“Twenty minutes!” Chris announces. He’s been their very accurate and punctual timekeeper this morning. 

“That feels like a long time,” Eddie says. “Like a really long time to stand here, waiting. What if I get sweaty?”

“Ew,” Chris says. “Don’t.”

Eddie shoots him an unimpressed look. “Helpful. Thank you.”

“I’m full of good ideas,” Chris nods sagely. 

---

[gaildrift3r]

Period Pains || Tyler Galpin x Reader

Summary: Tyler comes over to help when you’re dealing with period pains, proving once again he’s the best at making you feel cared for. Pairing: Tyler Galpin (Season 1) x Reader Content: Fluff, mentions of a period Word Count: 2304 ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Tyler:

Hey, Trouble Haven’t heard from you today Everything okay ?

You sat up and glanced at your phone with a hint of irritation despite the fact it was your boyfriend who had texted. The notifications had dragged you out of sleep, and at 10 AM when you were usually in class. Not that he knew you were skipping today.

You’d woken up with stomach cramps, bloating, and a wave of nausea that refused to let up even after a peppermint.

It was definitely that time of the month.

You hadn’t told Tyler, mostly because you’d woken up in a daze, checked your phone, and gone straight back to snoozeville. And, even after nearly a year together, you still weren’t entirely used to having someone constantly checking in on you.

You:

Sorry, got rushed into fencing! Just got out.

You’d lied mostly because you didn’t want to admit you were on your period. He’d been around for it before, but it still made you feel awkward, and you hated being around people during your cycle, since you were usually overstimulated or irritated.

After the messages sent, he read them and replied.

Tyler:

I thought fencing was at 5?

One thing about Tyler that most people didn’t realize was how perceptive he could be. It had always struck you as surprising, and a bit endearing. But right now… it was a problem, because even through the phone, you could tell he was starting to see through you.

You:

…fine, I slept in I haven’t felt well

Tyler: Sick day, huh? Want some company? I’ll bring snacks 

He definitely knew by now, and you’d already given up trying to hide it. Tyler was as persistent as he was perceptive, especially once he set his mind on something. His love language had always leaned toward acts of service, which had taken some getting used to. Still, the thought of him coming over for a quiet evening was comforting. He was one of the only people who could keep you calm and grounded on days like this, and you were starting to miss him anyway. With only weekends and the occasional weekday to see each other, his offer was far too tempting to turn down.

You: How would you even get in…? You’d probably get skinned before you made it past the quad

Tyler:

Please… you think I can’t sneak past a few Nevermore kids?

You:

Fine, but if you end up kidnapped, I’m not coming to rescue you <3

Tyler:

Wow… that’s cold. Guess I’ll just have to survive then I’ll see you after my shift

You knew he worked until about three, which meant he’d probably show up around four or five. Thankfully, your roommate had plans with her boyfriend, so the dorm would be empty by the time he showed up.

Until then, you were absolutely going to get some more sleep. Tossing your phone aside, you rolled over and dozed off for the next few hours. When you finally got up around three, you dragged yourself into the shower and did the bare minimum of your routine… a touch of mascara.

Heading down to the quad, where Tyler would inevitably be gutted, hung, or crucified… you settled onto one of the benches and pulled out your phone. He’d already mentioned he was on his way, so you shot him a quick thumbs up emoji before scrolling through Instagram to pass the time.

You were halfway down your feed, distracted and mindlessly scrolling when a voice cut right through your daze.

“Y’know, you’re a really bad texter.”

You almost jumped out of your skin, your phone dangerously close to slipping out of your hands. Snapping your head around, your eyes landed on Tyler standing a few feet away, his hands shoved casually into the pockets of his jacket, that crooked grin on his face like he knew exactly what he’d just done.

“Jesus- Tyler!” you hissed, dropping your phone onto the table. “How did you get here so fast?”

He shrugged, sauntering closer like he hadn’t just broken into Nevermore and waltzed into the middle of the quad. “What, surprised I can survive the gauntlet of your classmates?”

“You literally just walked through the quad?” you blinked, trying to process how nobody seemed to notice a normie lingering around.

Tyler chuckled, dropping onto the bench beside you. “Guess I’m sneakier than you give me credit for. Either that, or Nevemore security really sucks.”

“Or maybe we just know normies wouldn’t dare step foot in a school full of monsters,” you teased, giving his shoulder a playful bump.

He laughed, shaking his head, and before you could pull away he slipped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you closer. He pressed a quick kiss to your temple, which was enough to make your chest flutter.

You were about to say something when you spotted his backpack. “Oooh, snacks! Gimme.”

Tyler smirked, shifting the bag out of reach. “Hey, I’ll buy you snacks anytime. But I want to see your dorm first.”

You huffed, crossing your arms like a sulky child. “That’s evil. This is a form of tyranny.”

He only grinned wider, standing up and waiting for you. The moment you stood, he started steering you toward the doors with a hand on your back. “Call it incentive.”

Still grumbling under your breath, you led him across the quad toward your dorm, trying not to let him see the small smile tugging at your lips.

On the walk through the school, he adjusted the strap of his backpack and glanced sideways at you, his usual grin softening.

“You know,” he started, his voice quieter now, “you could call me a little more. Even if you’re busy… I kinda miss you during the week.”

Your stomach flipped, mostly from the guilt. You nudged him with your elbow, eyes dropping to the pavement. “I know… I’m sorry. I’ve just been swamped, and I don’t like bothering you when you’re working.”

“Bothering?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “You could never bother me. Even if you called just to say hi for a minute, it’d make my whole day.”

That tugged at something in your chest. You glanced up at him, catching the sincerity in his eyes. “…Okay. I promise I’ll try more.” You hesitated, thinking of how chaotic some school days could get. “At least… when I’m not busy fighting for my life.”

“Good,” he said, his hand brushing against yours as you walked. “Because I hate waiting until weekends to hear about your adventures.”

“I could call you more at night,” you suggested.

Tyler’s smile faltered, turning into something almost sad. “You used to.”

“Yeah… I know,” you admitted softly. “I took on too many extracurriculars. I’ll cut back on some, they’re killing me anyway. And… I miss you too.” You hooked your pinkie around his, offering him a reassuring look.

Tyler’s lips spread back into a grin, some of the heaviness of the moment lifting. “Good, because I didn’t want to have to chase you down again.”

“…You literally did chase me down the first time we met,” you said with a chuckle. “It was kind of funny, and kind of cute. I still can’t believe I actually gave you my number.”

Tyler grinned with a glint in his eye. “Guess I just knew you were worth the chase.”

You flicked his shoulder with a grin of your own, shaking your head at his comment.

By the time you reached your dorm, you pushed the door open and gave a quick twirl in the middle of the room. “Tada! Way different than your place, I know. My roommate’s completely obsessed with purple, so I just went with it.”

You watched as he stepped inside, his eyes roaming over the room. The soft lavender walls already gave the place a dreamy look. There were violet comforters stretched across your beds and some scattered throw pillows in shades of lilac and plum. A small shelf against the wall held a few books (that you never read) and a vase of fake lavender stems that filled the air with a very subtle flowery scent. The rug in the center of the room was a swirl of pale purple and silver that softened the harsh look of the wooden floor. The whole space felt cozy but a little whimsical. Definitely a stark contrast to Tyler’s room.

He let out a low whistle, smirking. “Wow… it’s like I just stepped into a grape.”

You’d immediately turned around and punched his shoulder. “Hey, if it were my idea I might have done blue… or red… maybe green? This is why I didn’t get to choose…”

He rubbed his shoulder with a fake wince. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you,” he teased, before leaning in to hush you with a quick kiss. Then he dropped his bag on the floor beside your bed.

You watched with mild curiosity as he tossed off his shoes, sitting at the edge of your bed and pulling out a small device. It wasn’t like anything you’d seen before - but then again, Nevermore didn’t teach a lot about modern technology.

“What’s that?” you asked, abandoning the idea of snacks and sitting beside him.

“It’s a projector,” he said, keeping his focus on setting it up.

“Like… a movie projector? I thought those things were huge, and had film reels.”

He nodded. “Yeah, those are. This one’s portable, way easier to set up. Trust me, you’ll like it.”

You waited patiently while he set everything up, which didn’t take him long. He pulled out his laptop, hooked it to the projector, and within a few minutes the projection flickered to life on the dorm's flat ceiling.

You opened your mouth, ready to start making movie suggestions even though you knew it’d take you forever to settle on something. But before you could get a word out, he had already started playing one. The familiar opening scene of The Princess Bride filled the room, and you blinked at him in surprise. “Figured I’d save you the trouble,” he said with a small, knowing smile. “It’s a classic, and I think you needed something more relaxing anyways.”

You let out a sigh, officially defeated. He’d snuck into Nevermore, brought snacks, a projector, and even picked the movie. After all that, you decided he’d earned a break from your sass… at least for tonight.

You stood to switch off the light and draw the curtains. By the time you turned back, he’d already pulled your comforter and sheets aside, leaving a space for you beside him.

And… he’d laid out the snacks.

You crawled into bed beside him, tugging the comforter over you both. The sheets were already warming up. His arm slipped easily around your waist, pulling you close until you fit perfectly against him. His lips brushed your temple in a soft kiss before he shifted slightly, settling in with his eyes back on the movie.

Sadly, the cramps still lingered, which left you achy, tired, and still a bit grouchy… but pressed against him, it was easier to forget. The gentle way his fingers traced along the bare skin at your side sent shivers up your spine, distracting you. And then you realized he brought chocolate - your weakness.

You stayed curled against him through the entire first movie, warm at his side as the snacks slowly disappeared between you. When the credits finally rolled, he glanced down at you with a knowing look. “You realize you didn’t drink a single sip of water that whole time, right?”

“…Are you seriously policing me right now?” you asked with a chuckle.

He smirked. “Yeah. Somebody has to keep you alive.”

Rolling your eyes, you slipped out of bed just long enough to grab a couple of water bottles. You tossed one his way before crawling back under the comforter. He watched as you took a few big sips, a satisfied look on his face.

“Happy now?”

He smiled. “I’m over the moon.”

Then, he reached over, moving you gently on top of him as the comforter slipped down your back. You settled on top of his waist, his hands resting gently on your hips. Leaning down, you pressed your lips to his for a slow, sweet kiss- one that lingered just long enough to leave both of you warm. When you finally pulled back, you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the quiet comfort of him as his arms tightened around you, his hand gently rubbing your back.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmured against his skin, your voice muffled, but still sincere.

He let out a quiet breath, and tipped his head slightly so his lips grazed your hair. “You do more for me than you even realize,” he said, his voice low but certain.

You expected him to come back with something funny or cute, but that was a lot more serious. Moments like this made him feel like more than just a small town normie boy- giving you a glimpse of a deeper side he rarely let show, even for you. You knew he was hiding something, more than just the strained relationship with his father, but you chose to let him share it when he was comfortable.

So instead of pressing, you simply hummed against his skin and let yourself enjoy the moment.

The rest of the evening passed in the same comfortable quiet, the two of you tangled together as he played movie after movie. Eventually, you fell asleep in his arms. Sometime later that night, he slipped out quietly, heading home to catch a few hours of rest before his shift the next morning. Still, you kept your promise, texting him first thing when you woke up.

[pollenallergie]

maybe i’m weird, but i just think the way bosses act when we request time off/go home sick/request sick leave is oddly lacking in empathy and humanity for people that 1) are human beings themselves and 2) employee fellow human beings.

[anothersuperstition]

like five commissions would solve so many of my problems right now …. 🌀you want to commission me🌀…. 🌀you want to look at my pinned post and you want to commission me sooooo bad🌀…….

a few recent commissions ⬇️

been loving leaning into more illustration/poster work and would love to do more!!

[rafeslvbug]

paediatrician!rafe finding out singlemom!reader has no support…

“alright then, i’ve given her her medication, we’ll wait a couple minutes and she should be good to go,” rafe murmurs, settling aurora into your arms again, watching with a smile as she sleepily looks up up at you, gummy grin and chubby fingers stretching out to you.

you let her close her fingers around your pinkie, her body still small as she’s only three weeks old prematurely, still not reaching how big she would have been at full term.

“thank you,” you tell him, voice a bit hoarse from having lost it to the past few nights of trying to shush her, and handling phone calls from the temporary hotel manager taking over from you, unsure on what to do and bothering you even more. tiredness had caught up to you, washing over you with each appointment and hour that passed.

concerned, his brows furrow at the sound of your voice, asking, “lost your voice?”. he takes a seat opposite you, resisting the urge to stretch a hand out, fingers tapping against his knee.

you nod, stroking back aurora’s hair and repositioning her head while you lightly laugh, “yeah, i’ve had to yell over her wails and try to get through to this temporary hire who’s taking over my job. they keep calling me thinking i’m just on sick leave or something.”

you hoped he would laugh. you hoped it would ease the pinch in his brows but it only deepened it. “you could get your husband to do it- or sorry- aurora’s father?” he corrects himself, not wanting to make an assumption.

lips pursed, you shake your head. “no husband. dad’s not in the picture, didn’t want a kid i’m sure,” you mutter bitterly.

“oh..that’s shitty, he’s an asshole..” realisation dawns on him, how you were alone during labour, alone when he came to see you the first time, alone when you came in crying about aurora’s restlessness. you’ve always been alone. “parents?” he asks, praying that you had that at least, but he felt the answer you were about to give gnawing at his chest.

offering him a soft smile, you shake your head, “no..they uhm, they really liked my ex. thought i should have got an abortion but i wanted kids so..is that selfish?” you don’t notice how his eyes darken, focusing on the guilty look that flashes across your face.

“no.” he grits out, shaking his head firmly. “don’t think for a second that you’re selfish, you’re not, and they’re all jerks for leavin’ you,” he continues, running his hand over his face.

letting out an appreciative hum, you keep on admiring aurora, noting every little feature and how special she is.

“see? how could that be selfish?” he murmurs, causing you to snap your head up with a confused look, letting out a little “huh”.

“you’re only thinkin’ about her, you care about her. that’s not selfish, you’re riskin’ a lot just to have this girl in your life,” he walks over, slowly taking her from your arms to check how her medicine is working.

he glances down at you, glittering blue eyes and a shared soft smile, before handing her back to you. “all good,” he mutters, before moving to his computer.

“just out of curiosity,” he calls out before you leave through the door. “what’s his name? your ex?” he raises his eyebrows, looking up from his computer.

you cock your head, stepping closer to him, “why?”

he grins and shakes his head, typing something down, “no reason.”

wary, and beginning to let a fatigued giggle escape your lips as you walk a bit closer, setting aurora’s carrier down with her in it and trying to get a glimpse of what’s he’s feverishly typing. “rafe what are you typing?”

“nothing! you can’t look at the doctor’s computer,” he laughs, hiding his screen as his hands come to your shoulders, softly spinning you around and handing aurora to you.

“rafe..” you warn over your shoulder and he only shrugs coyly, opening the door for you and giving you a little wave as you leave. not before calling after to you, “hey! remember though, you have me to help, if you need it.” you smile, mouthing another “thank you” to him before you’re leaving through the double doors, out the hospital.

when he returns to his computer he opens up the watch file he was creating, for a certain baby daddy who left his beautiful girlfriend and cute daughter - a man about to be banned from the premises.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616

[allsteddie]

Model!Steve AU, where Steve is a super famous model who has hundreds of people trying to win his affections and, yet, he never dates anyone.

Steve’s just so tired of all this; the empty flattery, the senseless idealization of him. Because these people don’t really wanna be with him, they just want to get into Steve Harrington’s pants so they can brag about it later. They want his name and his fame, not him.

Then he meets Eddie, a struggling musician trying to make ends meet by helping his uncle out at work. Wayne’s been Steve’s gardener for years, one of the few people in Steve’s life that actually treats him like a human being and not an object to be explored.

They meet after Wayne hurts his back in a stupid accident at home and can’t do most of his work for a while. And to Steve’s surprise, they just click.

Eddie is funny, smart and doesn’t give a shit about Steve’s fame. He’s always rambling about the absurdity of the world Steve lives in; people trying to use others to get money and recognition, the unrealistic beauty standards the industry sets and how this affects young girls and boys in the worst ways. Eddie has a lot of opinions about a lot of things and Steve loves hearing about them. It’s such a change from all the fake smiles and compliments he gets all the time. Steve’s smitten.

After three weeks covering for his uncle, Wayne gets better and Eddie has no more reason to tag along. On his last day, Steve asks him out but Eddie rejects him.

“Sorry, man, it’s been fun knowing you and all, but I’m not gonna be your dirty little secret,” Eddie says with an apologetic smile before leaving.

And this confuses Steve to no end because he never intended for Eddie to be his dirty little secret? Steve wants to date him, know him better, maybe build a relationship with him. What did he do that made Eddie believe he was just looking for a fuck buddy?

“You’re one of the most famous models in this country and my nephew can barely pay his bills with the money he gets from his gigs and his bartender job,” Wayne tells him when Steve expresses his confusion. “Do you really think he would believe you’re interested in him?”

“Then I’ll make him believe me.”

That’s how Steve finds himself going almost every week to the bar Eddie works and plays with his band.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Eddie asks the first time he sees Steve in the Hideout.

“I wanted to see you.”

“Yeah, right.”

Week after week, Steve shows up at the bar and stays until he can catch at least a few minutes of conversation with Eddie. Sometimes he stays to watch the show, but sometimes he has to leave early because of work. Eddie entertains him, but Steve can see he’s still not buying Steve’s intentions.

One night, Steve shows up and doesn’t see Eddie anywhere. He waits for a while but Eddie never shows up. When Steve asks the bartender, they inform him that Eddie called in sick that night.

That’s all the excuse Steve needs to drive all the way to the Munsons’ house, making a quick stop to buy every single medicine he can think of, and knock on their door. It’s Wayne who opens the door and he doesn’t even ask what Steve is doing there; he just steps back and lets Steve in.

“He’s in his room. Second door to the right,” Wayne tells him.

Eddie has the flu, Steve finds out. He’s got a fever, and his body is achy and his nose is so stuffy he can’t breathe properly. Eddie is so out of it because of the fever he barely registers Steve’s presence when he comes in.

Steve spends the whole night there, making sure Eddie’s temperature doesn’t rise too much and that he has enough blankets and drinks enough water to stay hydrated. When morning comes, Eddie feels much better and almost has a heart attack when he sees Steve passed out on the armchair beside his bed.

After he wakes up, Steve asks Eddie out again and this time Eddie finally says yes. They have to postpone their first date, though, because Steve falls sick with the flu the very next day. But it’s okay, Eddie takes good care of him.

[shouyuus]

doctor, doctor

zayne; 3,377; fluff and smut, no "y/n", knowing use of sex drugs, handjob, oral (f!receiving), face riding, shockingly soft intermission, missionary, internal creampies, banter (it's zayne duh), needy!zayne

summary: zayne volunteers as a guinea pig to test out an antidote to a new love drug. spoiler alert: the antidote sucks.

a/n: phew! i haven't written this much porn in... /checks watch/ well ever really. but im not that mad about it! it's a genre i've always felt a bit weak in so im glad to get some practice :) pls enjoy!

aphrodite made me!! masterlist

─── 黎深 YOU KNOW SOMETHING’S WRONG the second he gets home. There’s a bright flush to his cheeks, a glassy look to his eyes, and he reaches out to brace himself against the counter almost as soon as he’s through the door, sucking in a deep breath.

“Z-Zayne? What’s wrong?” you rush up to him, reaching out to press a palm to his cheek, lashes fluttering as you pull it away, startled. “Oh my god, you’re burning up!”

“No — it’s fine. I’m fine.” He tries to push you away, but can’t help the soft groan that leaves his lips as he nuzzles into your touch. You frown, letting him press into the palm of your hand before he turns to drop a kiss to your skin, looking down at you with hooded eyes. “It’s… not what you think.”

“Not what I…” you blink up at him, worry slowly being eclipsed by a trembling uncertainty.

Something’s not right, you think, but judging by the way he’s still able to hold himself steady, he’s not that sick. So then —

“Ah… fuck —” he curses, leaning forward to bury his nose into your shoulder, tugging you to him in a sudden embrace that has you squeaking, startled by the strength of his hold. And you’re not imagining it; up this close, you can feel his thready heartbeat reverberating through his chest to yours, and his arms around you — is he… trembling?

“Zayne?”

It’s so rare that he curses so easily, so openly. Usually, this kind of language is reserved for the bedroom but —

You go still in his arms, heat washing up the back of your neck into your cheeks as you feel the unmistakable hardness against your hip. Your mind grinds to a startling halt as you try to reconcile these two pieces of strange, incompatible information.

He’s sick… but he’s hard?

“Sorry — I just —” he tries to pull away, shaking his head as if to clear it but his eyes are still glazed when he stumbles back and lets himself sag against the closed front door. You let your eyes take stock of him — his ruddy cheeks and fluttering lashes, the shiver in his limbs, the clench in his jaw as he looks anywhere but at you.

“Zayne. What’ going on?”

He almost hisses at the sharp edge to your tone.

“There’s a new drug out on the market,” he says, his voice thin even as he cards a hand through his hair and tries to take a steadying breath. “It’s… being sold underground, and it’s a potent —” he swallows, tugging at his collar, and it’s only then that you notice the thin sheen of sweat glistening over his skin, “— a potent love drug.”

Your eyebrows skyrocket as you blink up at him.

“A… love drug?”

Zayne sighs, frowning slightly as he jerks at his tie, pulling the knot loose to let it hang around his neck as he thumbs at the top button of his shirt. His fingers, usually so quick and nimble, seem strangely uncoordinated. And after a second, you reach out to gently swat his hand away, popping the top button for him, blushing as he hisses out a breath and lets his head thump back against the door.

“Yes,” he answers, his voice clipped as he tries to look anywhere but at your face. “Our R&D department has been developing a cure and —”

“And?” you ask, letting your finger trace down the thin band of his exposed chest to catch on the next button of his shirt.

“And…” he swallows, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he purses his lips, “they needed willing participants to —”

Understanding floods through you like a wash of cold water. You let out a disbelieving laugh.

“You volunteered to test the antidote,” you say, staring up at his flushed face, his sweat-slick skin, the unfocused fracture to his eyes, the way his pupils are blown so wide they look almost entirely black.

You lick your lips, feeling another wave of heat crest through you as tingles shoot down your spine at the thought.

“Yes,” he answers again, sounding aggrieved and relieved both that you’ve finally understood.

“But…” you let your words trail off, letting your eyes rake down his trembling body and back up again.

Zayne sighs, shaking his head, “Well, it’s a work in progress.”

“Mm,” you hum, biting back a laugh that you know wouldn’t be entirely appropriate, given the desperate look on his face. Still, that forbidden knot had started to twist in your gut as you assess the situation.

It’s not every day that chance delivers your boyfriend so pliant and willing to your literal shared front door. And you’ve never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

“So?” you say, taking half a step back and folding your arms, reveling in the way he tips forward immediately to chase your warmth. “How do we —” you wave a hand towards him, feeling a strange, impossible fit of giggles threatening to spill from you at the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Zayne slates you a rueful look before leaning back to pinch at his nose bridge.

“T-the researchers say that the effects —” he pauses to take another deep breath. You can’t help noticing the increasingly obvious bulge in his work slacks and you feel your own thighs tense as the knot in your stomach twists just a tad tighter. “The effects should wear off on their own in a few hours but…”

“But?” you prompt, lacing your hands behind your back as you teeter on the balls of your feet, feeling an ever-familiar tingle race from the nape of your neck to the tips of your toes.

“But… there’s nothing much to do except to —” Zayne’s fingers twitch as he forces himself to open his eyes and stare at a nondescript point over your shoulder, “to ride it out, as they say.”

At this, you break — you fall into a fit of giggles that has Zayne sighing again as he pushes himself off the door and making his unsteady way to the bedroom.

“W-wait! Where’re you going?” you ask, tugging at his arm.

He twists to stare at you, “I — to bed. Or I can sleep on the couch tonight if it’ll make you more —”

You roll your eyes and yank him down for a kiss. He can’t even pretend to protest as he moans and melts into the heat of your mouth. You thread your fingers through his hair and feel his palms gripping at your waist, tight, and then tighter.

“Y’know… for a smart guy… you’re really kind of clueless sometimes.”

“Y-yeah?” Zayne asks, his breath hot against your lips. You nod, letting him tug you both back towards the bedroom, him nearly stumbling in his haste, you biting back another fit of giggles as he sits down hard on the edge of the bed and slots you between his legs, running his hands up and down the backs of your legs, fingers dancing towards the lace trimming of your panties.

“Did you really think that I wasn’t going to help you?” you ask, your voice low.

He lets out another thick groan as you cup his cheeks and tilt his head back to look at you.

“I — I don’t — I thought that maybe —” he stutters, but you shake your head.

“C’mon doc,” you say, grinning as his eyes narrow. You give his chest a light push and watch, satisfied, as he allows himself topple back onto the mattress. “Tell me where it hurts.”

He sucks in a breath between his teeth, staring at you with a look of such unadulterated love that you find yourself almost getting shy. Almost. You crawl onto the bed, nudging apart his legs, walking your fingers up this thighs as he jerks, head falling back into the pillows.

“Please…” the plea leaves his lips parted, and you feel the heat pulse between your own legs, feel your mouth water as you look down at the pliant, panting form of Zayne’s body, spread out on the bed, his chest rising and falling at quick intervals as he watches you from beneath hooded eyes.

Briefly, you consider teasing him, but disregard the thought after realizing that he’d probably driven home feeling much like this. And you reach up to tug loose the belt, making quick work of his trousers, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock — thick and leaking so much precum that your hands come away sticky.

“A-ah — fuck.” Again, he swears, as you tentatively wrap your fingers around his girth, and it’s not the first time you’ve done this, nor will it be the last, but it never fails to surprise you (just a little) how thick he is in your hands — how your fingers don’t reach all the way around.

You give him a few solid pumps, feeling the angry veins pulse beneath your palms as you try to work up a tempo, his hips jumping as he lets out a string of deep, throaty moans that have you clenching around nothing.

“Wait — wait —” he reaches for you, his thighs jumping slightly as your rhythm slows, and he hisses out a long breath, his brows furrowed as you tease your thumb around the underside of his cock hood, allowing yourself a tiny, devious grin as he whimpers high in the back of his throat.

“Yes, doc? Did you have any… complaints?” you drag your tongue across your lips before leaning down and letting your hot breath fan over his purpling head, feeling the heat between your own legs spread through you as thick beads of precum ooze from his slit.

“Come — come here —” he motions up the bed and you cock your head, glancing back down at what you’re certain is quite the painful erection.

“You don’t want…” you tighten your hold around his shaft as he catches his lips in his teeth and groans.

“I — I do. But I want —” he swallows, his eyes squeezing shut for a brief second, “I want to taste you.”

Desire curls solid at the base of your spine as you feel yourself throbbing at the thought. Zayne’s never been anything but a devout lover, and you’d often reflected that it really does pay to have a boyfriend who has a truly occupational knowledge of human anatomy.

“Yeah?” you ask, your own voice going breathy as you inch up the mattress, his hands settling so easily on the plush of your thighs, his eyes flitting up and down your body almost as if he doesn’t quite know where to look. You lift up your skirt and tug off your panties, with the full intention of lowering yourself slowly, but with a wretched moan, Zayne pulls you down over his face hard enough for you to gasp, your weight tipping forward so hard that you have to brace your hands on the backboard to stop yourself from toppling right over.

You feel his tongue lick a long strip along the seam of your cunt, the sting of his fingers digging into your thighs as he holds you over his mouth, groaning into the sopping heat of you, his tongue already pushing into you as he gives your clit a hard suck that has your mind fizzing out into tv static.

“Z-Zayne — oh fuck —!”

He strains against you, pressing his face so far into you you’re almost afraid he’s going to suffocate, but he only holds you tighter when you try to pull away, his mouth chasing your puffy lips. You grind yourself against his face, feeling his nose nudge at your clit as he sinks his tongue ever deeper into you, fucking it into you with a perverse need.

And it doesn't take long like this, not when he's so intimately aware of all your softest parts, all your most sensitive places.

“I — ah — ah — I’m s-so —” you stutter, as you feel the familiar tightening in your belly, the coil twisting as thin tendrils of heat start to skitter up through your limbs and you feel your orgasm building inside you.

Zayne lets out a debauched moan, letting it rumble from his mouth straight into your cunt and it’s enough to have your eyes fluttering shut as you break over his mouth, whimpering, hips stuttering as the white-hot fire chases washes through you in a great wave, leaving you feeling boneless and slightly winded.

Zayne pulls away panting, licking his lips, his eyes dark as an oil spill, completely devoid of light as he stares up at you, his gaze more licentious than you’ve ever seen it before. Even in the champagne-bubble weightlessness of your post-orgasmic haze, you recognize the crystalizing need in his movements as he releases your thighs, his handprints inked into your skin, red and fresh — you’re sure they’ll still be there tomorrow.

“H-how do you want me?” you ask, your voice a little slurred as he reaches up to wipe a thumb along his bottom lip, collecting the remnants of your slick there, only to lean in and press his mouth to yours. You groan against him, the messy tang of your own juices sharp on your tongue as he kisses you, pressing you back into the mattress till you’re pinned beneath him.

“Just like this…” he whispers, and you marvel at the restraint still in his actions, even as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothing, tossing them off into the careless dark of the room.

There’s a moment, caught in-between one kiss and the next, where he pulls back and looks at you, his eyes so soft, his expression unguarded, where you wonder if you’ll ever be able to see yourself through his eyes, and a tender warmth spreads through you as you realize that this is what love has always meant to feel like. There have been fireworks, yes, and whirlwinds. There’ve been storms and sunny days. But there will always be moments like this, caught in the almost light of a moonless night, when you are so much more than the sum of your parts, added together.

When your bodies are more breath than air, skin and share, and all the parts of you that you might’ve wanted to hide from the world are here, collected in the negative space between your bodies, held and loved like buried treasure.

“I love you,” he says, quietly, simply.

You gasp as you feel him pushing into you, his cock stretching you till you’re nearly breathless.

“I — I love you too.”

Zayne nods, fucks into you till he’s bottomed out, and though you can feel his arms trembling with the effort, he holds still to let you adjust. And it’s not till you give him a tiny nod that he puffs out a held breath and pulls back to fuck right back into you again. You keen, head tossing back into the mess of sheets, feeling every vein and ridge of his cock as it drags along your clenching walls.

“I don’t — I won’t be able to —” he can’t make out a full sentence, but you don’t care, just the size and weight of him are enough to make your vision blinker out at the edges.

“Mm — h-harder — please Zayne —” and its his name more than anything that proves his undoing. He lets out a clipped grunt before straightening and pulling your legs up, shifting your hips till you’re flush against him.

“Y-yeah — I’ve got you —” he gives you calf a quick kiss before rucking his hips down, his cock ramming into your g-spot hard enough for you to see stars. And then hammering into you with a desperate speed, chasing his own pleasure and it’s all you can do to keep from being tossed over the edge, too far, too fast.

“Yes — yes — yes!” you’re babbling something, nails scrabbling at his arms, his chest, his back, at anything you can reach as he pummels your abused hole, bullying his cock deeper and deeper into you till you clench around him, your orgasm blazing through you even as he shows no signs of slowing down.

“It’s — you feel — so — tight —” his pace stutters, his voice breaking over your name as he hoists one of your legs over his hips, “I’m —”

You nod, reaching up to tug a strand of hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead.

“I-inside — you can — want you to fill me up —”

Zayne keens, thrusting forward one last time before you feel him pulsing inside you, the warm spill of his cum stuffing you full till you can feel the remnants leaking down the curve of your ass. You bite your lips, swallowing hard as Zayne jerks into you a few more times till he finally stills, the pair of you both panting, your bodies sticky now with too many bodily fluids to count.

You let out a breathy laugh as he hisses, casting you a reproachful look.

“Y-you’re still hard…”

He sighs, nodding, “Yes… it’s one of the… more tedious side effects of the drug.”

He makes to pull out but you stop him, tugging him into your chest and running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

“You need to tell your R&D department that their antidote is very ineffective.”

Zayne chuckles, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him, the pair of you now curled into each other, his arms around you, his twitching cock still pressed inside you.

“Yes, I’ll be sure to send them a memo.”

You nuzzle further into his chest but your eyes catch on the clock hanging on the opposite wall and you frown.

“It’s only been… 43 minutes?”

Zayne glances at the clock as well before turning his gaze back towards you.

“Seems so.”

You lick your lips, feeling your mouth go dry as you feel him throb once more inside you.

“How long… did you say the effects last for again?”

Zayne heaves a very serious-sounding sigh even as you adjust yourself to be sitting over his hips, his cock sheathed inside you as you plant your hands on his chest.

“The R&D department said anywhere from a few hours to…” he lets his words trail off, a devious glint flashing behind his eyes, “in the worst cases, a few days.”

You shiver as he casually settles his palms on your hips, rocking you forward and back. You let out a hitched moan as your over-sensitive clit drags along the skin of his lower abdomen and his cock jerks inside you.

“D-days?” you echo, swirling your hips around in a soft figure 8 that has him sucking in a harsh breath, his brows furrowing with pleasure.

“Y-yeah… I’m assuming your offer of help still s-stands?” he does his level best to keep his voice dry, but his breath hitches as you pull yourself up the length of his cock before slamming back down. And already, there’s that self-same hunger eclipsing the light in his eyes as he stares down at the place where a thick ring of white has formed around the base of his cock, more liquid seeping out of you with every moment you make.

“Mm — maybe I’ll need a f-few breaks but —” you whimper as he thrust up into you, his thighs clenching beneath you, “like you said w-we just n-need to ride it out, right?”

Zayne purses his lips in concentration as he roots his feet into the bed before fucking up into you once, twice, three times, bouncing you on his cock with the sheer strength of his legs and thighs.

“Right.”

all taglist pt 1: @faeryminnyx @trashkitty @sorapricots @tricia816xoxo @nayo3ns @veetallla @notfr0mh3r3 @sh4nn @animecrazy76 @celestialforce @celestialzdiviner @m00nchildwrites @glitching-wren @ivana013-blog @rafayelsgf @pikachuzhc @angellinnie @stardewy @zombigirlfriendsblog @storyland-ofstars @xxfaithlynxx @crazy-ink-artist

all taglist pt 2: @wowunreal @boobearymuch @livonianmaia @celestialmoni @colorfulgardenerduck @bunnylechef @rikiwaify-blog @deepspacewithrafayel @nogitsune-the @carrotsandkoos @stardustwtx @yaoduriaa @queen-serena88 @stunies @simpingdailyforthem @love-and-deepstrays @small-fry28

the rest of the tags will be in the reblog!

[studiogrimm810]

Irreplaceable

// Est. Dean Winchester x you

summary: you crashed the impala :/ // 1.3k // base content: car crash, drunk driver, anxiety of dean being mad, dean NOT being mad, protective dean

A/N: pulling this one from the vault. requests are open!! i have the energy just not the ideas :(:(

Dean is going to kill you.

That’s what you’re most scared of, truthfully. The fear in your gut at what he’s going to say feels worse than the probably shattered bone in your wrist. He’ll never let you behind a wheel again, probably not even in the front seat.

You fucked up.

There was a puff of steam rolling from the hood and a man in a crinkled pickup truck stumbled out with a string of slurred curses. You scoffed, seeing a dizzying trio of the man, he was fucking drunk.

If only you had the blood pressure to stand and march over there to give him a piece or two of your mind. He stumbles to the grass and pukes his guts up.

A groan of annoyance, pain, and anxiety rumble out of your throat and you feel sick. You fish for your phone from your pockets with your good wrist but hesitate on who to call.

Dean would be furious, Sam would be collected, but 911 would be smartest.

With trembling hands, you press out the three numbers and hit the green button. A drop of blood lands on the screen- goddammit. The line trills and you rattle off your location and a brief description, your vision blurring further.

The last thing you remember is sticky blood crying from your hairline and the throb of your wrist.

———

He knows that something is off when he realizes it’s taken you over an hour to pick up a few six-packs and some dinner. He should’ve gone with you, but he had been so fried from a recent hunt and you were so kind to offer.

It’s not like you haven’t driven his precious Baby before, he trusted you. He knew you understood why he really clung so tightly to the Impala of Theseus and he trusted you’d respect her even more than your own car.

But he felt sick.

And when his phone rang, he knew what it was regarding before he even checked the screen.

It was a number from the area with no ID and he answered it with bated breath.

“Dean Winchester? I’m calling on behalf of…”

Dean barked out a simple explanation to Sam as he passed the library, not waiting for a quick glance to make sure his brother heard him. He didn’t even bother with a jacket. Through the halls, he winds to the garage and snatches the first set of keys that he can reach.

The car roars under his foot as he pushes the hunk of metal to its limits. He ignores how Baby would’ve handled his persistence better.

He’s a force to not be reckoned with as he storms through the hospital and demands directions. His chest feels empty, like his bones are clustered and are pulling him to you like a magnet. Maybe he’ll be able to take a full breath again once he sees you, maybe.

He takes back that hope once he sees you.

A dark bruise blossoms from your temple and is iced with fresh stitches along your hairline. Your lip is split and your jaw matches your temple. There’s a few smaller, irritated cuts along your skin- presumably from shattered glass.

It doesn’t matter what caused it, what matters is that you’re okay.

Your eyes go wide once you see him and his chest pangs with confusion. He freezes at the doorway, taking you in. When you go to pull yourself up, you wince and he can’t help but flood by your side.

“Dean, I’m so so sorry. He came out of nowhere and he was drinking! They arrested him and I- I had them tow the Impala t-to that lot where you know that guy who knows us and what we do and I made sure-.”

“Is it broken?” Dean interrupts like he wasn’t even listening to begin with. He reaches out for your wrapped wrist. You dart between him and the cast as he examines it. His hands trembled and his breathing was in quick bursts.

“Y-Yeah,” you sink a bit into the plush pillow behind you. Dean flicks his head up with a tight jaw and slight twitch in his lip.

“I’ll fucking kill him,” he lets go of your wrist and paces away as he rubs his jaw. “He was drunk?” He bites, turning back to look at you. His eyes were filled with rage but the expression gave way to reveal his deeper disbelief and fear of the situation.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe out, looking up at him with glossy, tired eyes and he squints back.

“Why the hell are you apologizing for him? He almost killed you!” He barks but his fuse fizzles as he realizes what you mean. His shoulders slump and he feels gutted. “Sweetheart, I don’t give a damn about the car,” he comes back, swiftly pulling up a chair so he can sit right beside you.

You sniffle softly, looking down at your cast but his hand reaches out to cup the side of your jaw that isn’t bruised.

“Look at me,” his voice is level and gritty, and his eyes are solid.

“I thought you’d be mad,” you admit, a tear defying you and rolling down your cheek. You try to turn away but he brings his other hand to swipe it away. You flinch at the slightest pressure and Dean fights down the bubbling rage in his gut at the fucker who put you here.

Mad? You really thought he would be mad? The thought makes him recoil and he immediately thinks of his father. No, how could he let this happen?

He searches your eyes for any hint that you’re joking but it’s obvious you aren’t. You look worried and broken and he wants to take back anything he’s ever said about Baby in front of you. Sure, he’s protective of the car and maybe a little overbearing, but wasn’t it obvious his love of you was completely irrational in comparison?

Has he not proven what you really meant to him?

“Baby, all I can think of is how goddamn lucky I am that you’re here and breathing. I can fix her up good as new but I can only do so much to keep you alive and healthy.” The words spill before he can consider them. It’s more vulnerable than he intends, but it’s because that's what he’s willing to do for you.

You nibble on the inside of your cheek and sniffle again, feeling a little embarrassed now.

“Please don’t tell me you seriously thought I’d care more about that car than you,” his words are a whisper, like he’s pained at just the thought. The guilt eats at him. He wants you to feel safe with him, always. He wants you to know that you can call him first, always.

You’re quiet and you look down, avoiding his gaze.

He leans forward, pressing a soft but firm kiss to your forehead. He breathes in the antiseptic from your stitches but your shampoo trails in behind it. He closes his eyes to savor the moment and before he fully pulls back away he plants another quick kiss in the same spot.

“You scared the hell outta me,” he admits, guiding your gaze back to him. “I would never value the Impala over you, sweetheart. You’re my priority, always,” he dips down for emphasis, hoping the words stain.

“I’ll help you fix her up, though,” you offer with a hint of a smile, still a bit embarrassed and disoriented from the concussion.

“Okay,” he accepts simply with a slow blink. His eyes are soft as he takes you in and he seriously cannot believe how angelic you still are even after a literal car crash.

He hates that you’ve been led to believe that he would set you aside for the sake of a car, but he makes a silent vow that he will spend the rest of his life making sure that you’re confident in his dedication to you and only you.

Always.

thank you so much for reading!! <3

>>check out my other works here

tags: @blossomingorchids @areswasneverhere @bejeweledinterludes @funkenniffler @iamaslytherin0

[fairy-angel222]

𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐔𝐂𝐊 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—your boyfriend does not appreciate you, but his uncle toji does.

pairing: toji x fem! reader

content: smut, cheating, unprotected sex, choking, petnames, praise, a little degradation, toji’s hot ass has tattoos, belly bulge, cumming inside you

You couldn’t really pinpoint when things went wrong. When your boyfriend just lost interest in you. You couldn’t even date back the last time you had been fucked. Simply turning his body when you tried to start something, or using the excuse that he wasn’t in his mood and that you needed to stop being so needy.

But how could you? You just needed to feel something. Anything. You were so tired of using your fingers when he left for work. Or the shower head on your clit when you showered alone, which was now always.

Your relationship was failing, but you couldn’t find it in you to break up with him.

You were quite confused when your boyfriend invited you over for a dinner at his parents. Getting to meet all his family as he introduced you with a wide smile, hands on the small of your back to guide you from person to person.

There was somebody who stuck out like a sore thumb. And you couldn’t take your eyes off of the man was probably twice your age and most definitely twice your size. Tall, broad and muscular with tattoos of all shapes and sizes trailing down his neck and onto his toned arms.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the heat you felt in between your legs as you ogled the greek god infront of you. With his messy black hair and dark eyes, a smirk spread across his handsome face as he tilted his head to stare you down. Hands in his pockets as he strolled towards you, your hand gripping your boyfriend’s shirt as you felt yourself getting smaller and smaller under his gaze.

“Now who’s this pretty thing?” The deep voice questioned, looking down at you with the subtle bite of his lip as he let his gaze run over your figure. “You’re not gonna introduce your lil ole uncle to your girlfriend?”

Your boyfriend scoffed, rolling his eyes and pulling you closer into him. “I have no need to. Now beat it.”

You frowned at his harsh tone. Toji’s hands raising in defense as he chuckled. “Just trynna be nice.” His smirk widening when he turned to face you fully. “Now, what’s your name doll?”

Your knees grew weak at the deep rasp of his voice, avoiding eye contact when you felt yourself face getting hot. “uh.. y/n, my name’s y/n.”

Toji hummed, grabbing hold of your hand and bending down to place a kiss to the back of it. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.” He winked.

“Okay that’s enough. You can go now.” Your boyfriend fumed, your eyes never leaving the older man’s as he took his leave, leaving you with a short. “Nice to meet ya, doll” before he walked away.

“We’re leaving.”

Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s words. “What? Baby why? Your family seems so nice we can’t just leave.” You tried to convince him.

“We can when you’re looking at my fucking uncle like he’s a five course meal.”

You resisted the urge to scoff, maybe you wouldn’t have to if he did what he was supposed to. “I promise you, i wasn’t. Now let’s at least enjoy an hour for dinner before we leave. Okay?”

Your boyfriend only scoffing before shrugging your arm off of him and walking away into the kitchen.

Great. This was just what you needed.

The dinner was awkward for you. Your boyfriend wouldn’t talk to you and kept glaring at his uncle. Who only added fuel to the fire by sending short smirks your way, his muscles flexing as he ate.

You couldn’t help the way your face flushed, fidgeting with the food in your plate as you bit down on your lip.

“Y/n, dear? Are you okay?” your boyfriend’s mother asked in genuine concern. “You have barely touched your food honey.”

You gave her a smile. “Sorry, i’m just feeling a little sick right now.”

“Oh dear, would you like to go to the bathroom? Darling, show her the way.” his mom insisted. Your boyfriend not even sparing you a glance when he spoke, “I’m sure she knows the way, mom.”

You sighed, a piece of you missing the relationship you once had. Giving a tight lipped smile and assuring her that you knew the way before getting out of your seat and heading to the nearest bathroom.

You stood staring at yourself in the mirror, rubbing at the bridge of your nose while telling yourself to get your act together. You gasped when the door swung open. A smirking Toji closing the door behind him and leaning onto it, his hands crossed over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

“You know, for a girl pretty like you, you sure are stupid.” He laughed, “Don’t you see you deserve better than my scumbag of a nephew?” Closing the gap between you two until you were backed up against the sink’s counter.

Toji’s hand reached up to stroke gently under your cheek, trailing his finger across your lip as he bent his neck to look down at you. In turn looking up at him through your lashes when his other hand held onto your waist.

“You gotta know how a real man treats a lady. How a real man fucks. You want that doll?” Waiting for your shy nod of approval before sitting you on the cool marble top. Your legs hooked around his waist and your hands gripping the counter’s edge when his rough lips met yours. Kissing you hard before trailing soft bites down your neck, careful enough to not leave any marks.

You let out a moan, Toji’s hands moving to peel off his shirt so his rock hard abs were on display. Grinding lightly onto the hard surface with a whimper at the full sight of black ink spread across his pale skin. A grin on his face when he went back to attacking your neck, hand slipping under your dress and pressing against the heat of your panties.

“This wet for me already? I’m flattered.” His fingers making their way to rub between your folds through the side of the fabric. Collecting your wetness before dipping a finger into you. “Think you can take it doll? You’re so fucking tight. Practically a virgin again, how long’s it been since you were given a good fuck?”

You truly didn’t know the answer for yourself. Only moaning as Toji pulled off the lace material, spreading your legs wider and pulling his thick cock out the confinements of his jeans. You whimpered when Toji stroked his length, the size being bigger than anything you’d seen before. “‘S alright, ‘m gonna mold her round my cock.” he groaned, lining up with your sopping hole before slowly thrusting into you.

“Nnhg— so big, T-Tojii— can’t take it.” you mewled, Toji’s hand latching over your mouth to muffle your pleas as he forced himself deep into you. “Gonna make it fit doll, just sit real pretty for me and take it yeah?”

You nodded with a shaky moan, your pussy stretching to accommodate his thick girth as he bottomed out inside you. Grunting heavily at how tight you were around him, his cock so deep that he could see himself bulging in your stomach through the thin fabric of your dress.

Toji started off slowly. Your moans increasing in volume as he sped up. The burning sensation turning into nothing but pleasure as he fucked into you, ricking your body back and forth with each thrust.

Toji’s hand fell from your lips, the tattooed skin finding itself wrapped snugly around your neck instead. His cock grazing your gummy spot as he leaned into your ear. “This is exactly what you need doll. Need me to fuck that pretty little pussy so good.” he grunted. “Exactly what your dumb boyfriend failed to do.”

You could only let out a cry, your smaller hands holding tightly onto the arm around your throat. Digging your nails into his flesh as you moaned out into the air. Your lips parted in a string of mewls as the older man’s cock pierced deep into the depths of your insides. Fucking perfectly into your g spot before bullying its way to the entrance of your cervix.

The unfamiliar sensation making you cry out even louder as your head fell back. “T-toji- ahh— so good Toji, feels s’ good.” you cried, your legs trembling around him with curled toes.

“Careful now doll, as much as i would love for him to hear me fucking you right, there’s other people out there.” he teased, your pussy clenching when your eyes met his. Your eyes glassy and your head fuzzy as you were fucked into oblivion.

Letting out a whimper when his grip tightened unintentionally on your throat. Drool falling past the sides of your lips as your eyes fixed on his v line, up to his abs then further until you reached his face. Finding his dark irises staring back down at you hungrily before pulling you closer to him.

His large body swallowing yours when he pressed you up against him. Your moans and cries getting noisy again as you felt yourself getting close. “Tojiii— nnh, ‘m so c-close, ahh— gonna cum.”

“Yeah doll? Close f’ me? Gonna make a mess on this old man’s cock?” he rasped, broad hips still rolling hard into yours as he watched your mouth hang open slightly, your eyes rolling back before closing completely as you reached your high.

Body shaking and pussy spasming around him as your pussy held onto his cock like a vice, letting out a choked scream muffled by Toji’s knowing kiss as you came. Squirting messily onto his cock with the quiver of your hips.

“So fucking hot.” Toji groaned as he pulled away from you. Your breathing noticeably heavy as he fucked you through the aftermath of your orgasm. “Fuck, gonna cum. Where’d you want it?” he breathed.

And you let out a mewl as his thrusts grew sloppy, veiny cock twitching against your walls as he got ready to release. “Fuck, gotta hurry up and tell me doll.”

“Nnhg— inside, want you inside.” you moaned, “C-cum inside me.. please.”

Toji’s pupils dilated and his grin grew wide. “You’re a slutty one in disguise aren’t ya? ‘S my pleasure baby.” His thrusts becoming merciless as he slammed into you. Using your pussy to stroke his cock as you choked out little cries at the fast pace.

“Fuck, gon’ fill you up so good.” he panted, “Gon’ stuff you so full that you’ll be begging to be my good girl again.” his cock throbbed, “Shit— there we go, that’s it doll.” Spilling spurts of his hot cum into your cunt. Making you moan at how easily he filled you up.

Toji gave his final slow thrusts before he was pulling out of you, letting his cum seep out as he helped you put back on your panties. Trapping his seed deep inside you with a hum. “Feel better doll?” he smirked, giving you a short kiss to your lips and laughing as you tried to not let him go.

“Come back to me when you gain some sense and drop that asshole, okay? I’ll be waiting.” Pulling his shirt back on and tucking himself into his boxers, giving you a wink before trying to fix his hair. Your eyes glued onto his back as he walked out the bathroom door.

Leaving you touching your lips that just felt his tongue. Your heart beating faster before you were startled by hard knocking on the door followed by your boyfriend’s voice. “Can you hurry up in there? You’re making my mother think you’re dying or something.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath, thoughts of Toji plaguing your mind and keeping you calm. “Coming!”

[livingdxadwriter]

Serenity

Michael “Robby” Robinavitch x f!doctor!reader

Summary: Robby has had a really shitty day, maybe he just needs his girlfriend to comfort him

Follows the pacing of the show so minor spoilers if you’re still not caught up

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, oral (fem receiving), he talks her through it (yes he does and yall can’t tell me otherwise), age gap (reader is 35 and Robby is 50) (ik he’s probably Noah’s age but just bare with me here), established relationship, just vanilla sex really

WC: 6.3k no I’m not sorry

A/N: bahahah nobody look at meeeee. I think I outdid myself with this, I’m never beating the daddy issues allegations. This man just makes me so feral I couldn’t help myself. I’m hoping some of yall have been down bad too otherwise just ignore me (if this flops I’ll cry). Also tagging my bestie bc she has experienced my madness in real time🩷 @wittyjasontodd

You knew today would be an absolutely abhorrent day. You could feel it, the second that dumb clock hit six a.m, you knew. You knew it when you texted him if he wanted to eat dinner at your place after your shift, and he told you that he didn’t know when exactly he would get off his. He was working today and that made you sick to your stomach, a deep sense of anxiety and worry settling in. And you couldn’t shake that feeling all fucking day. 

You didn’t want to worry about him, coddle him and suffocate him like he was a teenager, he surpassed you by quite a few years for you to be doing that. Still, you couldn’t not worry about him down there. His day was normally absolutely draining as it was, but having to deal with that today out of all days, it concerned you just how well he could compartmentalize his own issues and the issues of dozens and dozens of other people. 

You were tempted to come downstairs yourself and check in on him under the excuse of bringing him coffee and something to eat. But then that would be weird. Then people would know. Well, you had a suspicion people did know by now, it was a bit hard to hide a relationship after two years. Though it was a bit easier considering you were all the way up in the pediatrics ICU and not in the Pitt. Still, you definitely noticed the knowing glances of Perla and Princess whenever you came down for a consultation or if they saw you sneak into the doctor’s lounge.

Dana knew, though you never told her. You didn’t think Robby told her either. You thought it took her maybe a month to figure it out. You prided yourself on how discrete you were about it, and still are. You walk together whenever your shifts align, hands locked and headphones in as you both enjoyed the short time you had in each other's calming presence before you didn’t see each other for twelve-plus hours. And then you went your separate ways, a quick kiss and a hushed ‘love you’ before going through completely different entrances to be extra cautious. You have been doing this since day-one. How Dana figured it out was beyond your extensive knowledge. 

You both would like to think other than Dana’s superhuman ability to read people, you had managed to keep things private. It was better that way, doctors were such odd creatures, you almost positively knew that ‘favoritism’ would end up circulating around sooner or later, since, once upon a time where you were a bright-eyed and still a had will to live first-year resident, Robby was your attending. Albeit he was married at the time and you were engaged, you knew someone would find a way to turn it into something it wasn’t. 

Today, however, you weren’t quite such how reserved you could be when you knew he was struggling. 

You sat on your desk, a long exhale of exhaustion leaving your lips as you ran your hands over your face, enjoying the few minutes of peace and quiet you had managed to find. And then you heard a ping. You sat up, eyes shooting open as you reached for your phone with annoyance. You thought it was the hospital, but when you unlocked your phone you saw it was a message from Dana.

Well, fuck. 

Dana: can you check on Robby? The overdose kid is hitting him pretty hard 

A long sigh left your lips as you read over the message, heaviness settling in your chest. You had been keeping up with it since earlier this morning, you had hoped maybe the kid would respond to treatment. You guessed things hadn’t been so easy down there. 

Me: you don’t think the kid is gonna make it?

Dana: Robby doesn’t think so. Come check on him please. He was gone for a while earlier

Another heavy sigh left your lips. Today was not the day for this. 

Me: he doesn’t like it when I make him talk about his feelings 

You weren’t entirely exaggerating. Robby wasn’t emotionally unavailable, the opposite, if anything, he was painfully aware of his feelings. He just didn’t like talking about them, especially when they were ER related. He would send you into a psych ward if he told you everything he experienced on a daily basis, he told you. And you respected it, your year in the Pitt definitely wasn’t the highlight of your life, and you admired him for choosing to stay there for so long. 

Dana: you’re not. You’re just being a supportive girlfriend. Come, now. 

You didn’t have to be in front of her to know she was being serious. You figured if you didn’t come down at some point she would physically come get you herself if that’s what it took. So best not to test the universe today. You had some time before your next appointment anyway. And Dana was right, you wanted him to know you were there, even if he didn’t always want it. 

It came as a shock to no one that you ultimately found your way downstairs. It was always loud on your floor, but nowhere near as bad as the pitt. You tried your best to not draw attention to yourself, though with everything going on down here and all the people that came and went, you figured you would blend in for the most part. You hoped to find Dana at her desk, preferably alone, as to avoid awkward small talk and questionable looks since nobody actually called you down here for any medical reasons. You internally thanked the universe when you spotted Dana on her computer. 

“Hey.” You spoke quietly, hands shoved into your pockets a bit sheepishly as you glanced around before looking back at her. She gave you a warm smile of gratitude and nodded at you. 

“Don’t make that face, it’s not that bad down here.” She teased, calling out your hypervigilant mannerisms and the uncomfortable look on your face. You didn’t mind being here, but only when you had a reason to be, you definitely didn’t want to have to explain you came down here to check in on your boyfriend. 

“I know.. But you know..” you gave her a look. But you didn’t have to say anything, she knew what you meant, she just liked teasing you about it. 

“South 16 is empty. I’ll tell him I need him for something. Just be quick, we might need the room.” She told you in a hush, resuming her typing away at her computer. You quietly nodded, briefly reaching to lightly squeeze her shoulder as a silent thank you. 

You waited a bit anxiously, shooting a glance at your watch. Shit, you had to be back upstairs in ten minutes to check up on a patient. But you didn't want to leave without at least making sure he was okay. Even if he was just going to brush you off and tell you that everything was fine, you at least wanted to see him. You waited another minute, and with a sigh you turned to pull the curtains out, but someone beat you to it. You jumped back a bit, eyes wide for a second before you realized. 

He wasn't quite looking at you, or maybe he just wasn't paying that much attention, he thought he was in the wrong room at first.

“Sorry—oh.” Robby glanced behind him for a second, bit confused as he closed the curtain behind him. You smiled lightly as he looked at you both with confusion and relief to see you. Now matter how hectic or chaotic his day had been, how many times he had to chase down his residents, or many patients were a pain in his ass, seeing you always brought him a sense of calmness. He was ashamed to admit he was completely infatuated with you. His racing mind ultimately landed back on you, and he realized; he didn't remember calling you down. Maybe one of the residents did? But they didn't check with him first. “Hey, what uh.. What are you doing down here?”

“Just wanted to check in, I heard you’ve had a rough day.” You said quietly, lightly nibbling on your bottom lip as you stepped closer to him. He looked down at you, a heavy sigh leaving his lips and his jaw clicked lightly as he reminded himself to curse Dana out later. He didn’t want you to worry. He said nothing, so you continued, “The college kid, you don’t think he's gonna make it?”

He tried to hold back another sigh, but he couldn't help it, he squeezed his eyes shut and scratched the back of his head with exasperation. He considered not going into details, giving you the same bullshit answer he gave the parents. He never wanted to burden you with his issues, with the baggage that came with the ER. He always wanted to keep out of the relationship, though he found that to be quite the challenge. When he opened his eyes again and found your pretty eyes looking back at him, with that warmth and kindness that made him want you in the first place. Maybe he should open up, to you at least.

“Uh, no. He’s braindead so there’s nothing we can do.” The words left him like a ton of bricks, heavy and sharp. Your face immediately fell and your lips parted open lightly. You tilted your head at him, but said nothing. He wasn’t quite looking at you as he continued, “I keep ordering all these tests for the parents, but I know. And I don’t know if giving them false hope will make things worse for them.”

You nodded softly and rested your hands on his chest, you felt him exhale unevenly. You gave him a warm smile as you lightly rubbed his chest.

“Maybe they just need more time to make peace with it. Maybe they just need to know you did everything you could to help their son.” You knew how he felt, there had been so many times where nothing you did was enough to help someone’s child, and you had to tell them that. But you knew he did his best, he always did. Though you weren't sure if he knew that. 

“Yeah.. yeah, maybe.” You felt him slightly tense under your touch and he avoided your eyes. He slightly angled his head to look behind him, like he was getting ready to sneak his way away from you and get lost in the chaos of the ER. you would let him, in a minute.

“Michael.” Your voice was a warning, quiet, stern. He snapped his head in your direction and looked at you with concern and confusion. You almost mever called him that. Only sometimes, when you were annoyed with him. With that scolding tone of yours. He didn't like it much.

“I don't like that. Why’d you do that?” He tilted his head at you, and you had to hold back a smile at the way he looked at you.

“‘Cause, you’re being difficult. There’s bad days and there’s worse days. Today is a shitty day, and that’s fine. You're doing your best, don’t be so harsh on yourself.” You sighed, running your fingers through his beard and he almost instantly leaned into your touch.

“How come you didn't go into psychiatry?” He commented and you snorted, leaning your forehead into his chest. You felt a slight chuckle rumble in his chest, and with that your deed was done for now.

“Well, I did a minor in psychology in undergrad, did I ever tell you that?” You leaned back, a small smile on your lips, and he had the little wrinkles around his eyes that you found to be so cute. 

“Once or twice.”

You shrugged playfully, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he turned his head and caught your lips instead. You were definitely okay with that. A groan of annoyance rumbled in your chest when you felt your phone buzz, alerting you that it was time for your next appointment. You pulled back, much to your dismay and took a glance at your phone, you were definitely going to be late.

“I mean it Robby, I’ll know.” You shot him a playful warning look and he nodded, a tiny grin pulling at the corner of his lips. You leaned up, actually leaving a kiss to his cheek this time. “Love you.”

“Love you too hun.” He called after you as you disappeared behind the curtain. A long sigh left his lips as he ran a hand over his face. If he wasn't the attending he would go after you and would purposely get locked inside an exam room with you for a little while. But alas. He waited a minute, making sure it didn’t look too suspicious before he came out too, back to the madness he went.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was just the gift that kept on giving. You eventually came down for the walk of honor. You knew you wouldn’t really talk to Robby, but you wanted him to know you were there. You truly hated to see him like this. Hours on end only for the answer to have been what he knew from the beginning. It was hard to look at the brightside. And then you heard Dana got assaulted and you were absolutely freaking out. You hadn’t been able to come down until the end of your shift, when you were on your way to head home. Robby still had another hour left of his so you were just going to your apartment alone, he almost never got off on time, anyway.

You damn near ran off the elevator and a sense of relief washed over you when you saw Dana sitting at her desk. A long sigh left your lips as you approached her and you nearly gasped when you saw the bruising on her face. 

“Dana.” You said quietly, your eyes big. She shook her head at you dismissively, but it was hard not to worry. “They told me a patient hit you?”

“Yeah. Don't worry, I don't have any fractures, just a little sore.” She half smiled at you, but the look on your face never changed, you frowned even deeper.

“It's unbelievable. With all the patient satisfaction bullshit Gloria shoves down our throats you’d think they would invest a little more in making sure the staff is protected. Are you sure you’re okay? It bruised a lot.” You leaned down to inspect her closer and she rolled her eyes at you, but you couldn’t help it. 

“Yes I’m sure, Robby made me get a CT and made me take a break, I’m fine.” She waved you off and you nodded. 

“Oh, speaking of that pain in my ass, where is he? I’ve been texting him since the walk but I haven’t heard from him.” You frowned softly, adjusting your bag over your shoulder. Dana gave you a look, one that you definitely did not like.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t wait on him too much. Just go home, okay? While you still can.” Now that worried you even more. You knew today had been rough but you didn’t think it had been that bad. It took a lot for Robby to lose it, though you were unsure what exactly happened if that was the case. 

“Yeah, okay. I’m glad you’re okay. I was very worried.” You offered her a tiny smile, which she returned and you exchanged goodbyes for the night.

Dana’s words lingered in your mind, and you were definitely more concerned for Robby than you were earlier today. Usually he would text you back, even if it was an hour or two later, but it had been hours and nothing. With a sigh, you started to head for the exit, and as you walked you saw Robby walking out of one of the exam rooms. You debated whether to pretend you didn't see him and to just go home. But that really wasn't the type of person you were.

“Robby, hey.” You called out to him as quietly as you could as you walked up to him. He visibly tensed at the sight of you and he looked like a fucking mess. You narrowed your eyes, your lips pursing at him but you continued. “I uh.. I’m going home. I don’t know if.. If you wanted to come over when, well whenever you get out. I’m picking up food on the way so..”

He was silent for a while, too long for your liking and you were starting to feel a little tense as well. He clicked his tongue, scratching the back of his head like you had picked up he did when he was stressed. You probably should have listened to Dana.

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know. I don’t really know what time I’m getting off, and truly I think maybe I should go to my place tonight.” He said with exasperation, his tone harsh and laced with tension. It almost took you aback how he was talking to you. 

You blinked at him, mouth slightly agape. It took you a couple seconds to process what he was saying. You counted to five in your head, took a deep breath in and just nodded. “Uhm, okay. Yeah, cool, I just wanted to make sure you were okay before I went home.”

“Yes, yes I’m okay, why does everyone keep fucking asking me that.” He raised his voice before quickly realizing what he did and his lips fell in a flat line. You stared at him in shock, eyes wide and lips slightly parted. It was almost like it dawned on him that you were the last person in this hospital he should be snapping at. And he did just that. He reached to grab your arm and you backed up.

“No, it’s fine. I got it. Sorry. I’m gonna go home now.” You forced a smile, you could tell Robby wanted to say something, he opened his mouth but you just shook your head at him. “It’s fine, you need space and I get that. Text me when you can talk to me like a fucking adult, yeah?”

You didn’t even give him a chance to reply, you were turning around and hurrying to the exit before he could get a word in. Was that the most mature response you could have given him? No, not really, but you didn't particularly enjoy being yelled at by your boyfriend in the middle of the ER. You knew something else must’ve happened to him, but you didn’t really want to find out when he was that upset. You hadn't seen Robby angry often, stressed? Sure, all the time. But he looked pissed and you didn’t like that whatsoever. He was always so calm, so patient and so collected, it was unsettling to see him so easily ticked off. You tried not to think about it too much, he knew where to find you if he wanted to talk, calmly. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robby couldn’t stop thinking about you for the rest of the night. He felt horrible for yelling at you, when his problems were not your fault and all you wanted to do was be the loving girlfriend that you were. He always loved how attentive and caring you were, when you asked him about his day and when you would listen so attentively to the little he would tell you. You were the last person on this earth he should’ve snapped at today, and now he had to go home feeling guilty when all he wanted was your comfort. He debated about just going to his place and calling you tomorrow, maybe he would get you some flowers to apologize. But then thought that would be too long. It was so late, he definitely didn’t get off when he was supposed to, but maybe you’d still be awake. You usually waited up for him anyway. 

Without much thought, he ended up at your apartment. He had a key to your place, he slept there most nights to be completely honest. He was rehearsing in his head the apology he would give you when the door got stuck. 

“What the fuck..” he muttered to himself as he tried to force the door open, thinking maybe it got caught on the rug or something. But no, he looked down to find that the latch was on. You put the latch on. He took a deep breath and clicked his tongue, trying to look into the apartment to see if he could see inside. This was definitely going to be his last straw. 

You weren’t asleep, it wasn’t quite midnight yet, but even if it was, you weren’t sure if you could get much sleep tonight. You heard the sound of your front door unlocking along with muffled shuffling. You sat up, confused. You suspiciously came out of your bedroom, only to find Robby’s awkwardly tall frame trying to reach inside to undo the latch. You almost wanted to laugh, you would have, if you hadn’t still been a bit upset from earlier. 

“Really?” You called out to him, arms crossed over your chest as you padded along the wooden floors, the floorboards creaking under your bare feet. Robby looked to find you, in an oversized t-shirt and a pair of cozy pants. He always found it endearing how cozy and comfortable you looked outside of the hospital. 

“You put the latch on? Really?” He huffed quietly, annoyed that he got stuck outside your apartment, he definitely was not amused by you trying not to laugh. You shrugged.

“You said you weren’t coming over. I put the latch on when you’re not here.” You said like it was obvious, taking your sweet time in walking to the door. It served him right. He would’ve rolled his eyes if he didn’t know you were right. 

You stood for a few seconds and made direct eye contact with him as you shut the door in his face, just to make a point, before you unlatched the door and opened it. You took a step back, crossing your arms over your chest again as he quietly stepped into your apartment, closing the door behind him. He dropped his backpack like it had offended him, and he crowded your space. His nose brushed over yours, and you could hear his breath. You were holding yours.

“I’m sorry.” He offered so quietly, so much so that you wouldn’t have heard him if he hadn't been so close. You inhaled sharply, slightly nodding. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he breathed out a sigh of relief. “Yeah? You forgive me?” 

You nodded again, as you leaned up to meet his lips. “Yes, now shut up.” 

“Yes ma’am.” He chuckled softly, his large hand squeezed your waist as he leaned down to meet your eager mouth. He definitely said nothing after that. God, he had been wanting to do this all fucking day. It probably would have made his day a whole lot less shitty. But he was here now, and he had you all to himself.

You weren't sure when you ended up being carried to your bedroom, or when your back was laid flat on your soft covers. All you could focus on was his lips claiming yours, his lips trailing kisses all over your jaw, down to your neck, and anywhere he could find, really. He wasn't normally this messy, perhaps the stresses of today had finally worn on him.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he muttered against your skin as he half-assed shrugged his hoodie off his shoulders and tossed it somewhere he would be scrambling for in the morning. You hummed along, only half listening. “Let me make it up to you.”

Confused, you sat up on your elbows as he settled between your thighs. You watched him with big eyes and a heavy chest as he silently pulled your pj’s down your thighs. You held your breath as you instinctively closed your legs. He shot you a pointed look as he pried your thighs open, fingers digging into your plush thighs as he settled between them. You gasped softly at the delicious burn his beard left on your thighs. You loved that you could always feel the tingle of where his mouth had been, even the day after.

He took his time with you, he always did. You never understood how he could stay so calm, so patient. You had no patience, and you knew that he knew. Maybe he enjoyed seeing you desperate. His tongue lapped at your pussy with such calculated movements. From your hole to your clit, circling and sucking before diving back into your walls. Squirming, you were chasing his mouth with your hips, body overcome with pleasure as he worked your walls with his tongue. You felt like such a whore for asking like this, but you couldn’t help it. 

“That feels so—ugh—feels so good—please.” You didn’t know what you were pleading for. Mercy? Sweet release? You didn’t know. Robby raised an amused eyebrow at you, wet lips curled up the slightest bit as he moved his tongue back to your clit and he slipped two fingers inside your cunt. He licked and sucked to match each delicious drag of his fingers. The sounds leaving him were just as filthy as the things he was doing to you, groaning and grunting.

It was no surprise that he had you shaking and sobbing, overcome with pleasure, eyes blurry with tears of pleasure, your release rapidly approaching. You latched on to his hair, tugging and pulling at the strands as your pathetic sounds filled the room. You chased his mouth, and he let you, always so amused by how quickly you would fall apart.

“That’s it, just breathe through it.” he hushed, his own breath heavy as he replaced his tongue with his thumb and he crooked his fingers just the right way, knowing each and every one of your tells, each twitch of your body, he had memorized all of it. 

Your release was hard and sudden, your loud sounds were almost as overwhelming as the feeling of his fingers scissoring you wide open. Your head was thrown back, eyes rolled into the back of your head. He dug his fingers into your thigh, his tongue slipping into your hole when his fingers left you. 

“Shit Robby.” You gasped, your thighs shaking as you weakly reached to grab his face. You ran your fingers along his face, threading through his beard and you silently ushered him up. He complied, in an instant settling between your open legs to find your mouth again. You could taste yourself on his lips, on his tongue, it was all so much for your clouded mind.

“You’re okay, just breathe for me.” He said against your lips, brushing your hair away from your face softly. You breathed out a laugh.

“You should yell at me more often,” you snorted, and Robby shot you a pointed look. “So you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah, well, we’re not done, so.” He pressed another kiss to your lips, leaving the lingering taste of yourself on your tongue before he flipped you over on your stomach. You bit your lip softly, pulling your t-shirt over your head and tossed it somewhere. You heard him shuffling behind you for a bit. You turned your head to look back at him, and with a smile he leaned over your back, leaving a kiss to your bare shoulder. “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hmm hi.” you hummed softly as you braced yourself with your arms in front of you. He pressed his lips to the back of your head, inhaling your sweet scent as he slowly sank into you. 

You gasped, your eyes rolling back into your head he sank into you until his hips rutted against your ass. The side of your face was flat on the mattress when he sneaked his hand into your hair and held you there. His pace was slow at first, slow strokes that allowed you to revel in the feeling of his cock in and out of your walls. But as you both began to grow desperate, pathetic sounds leaving your lips and groans of pleasure leaving him, his pace picked up.

“Thought about this all day baby. With the fucking day I’ve had.” His words left him with a groan, and he gave you a particularly sharp thrust that had you sliding up the mattress. “Just wanted this. You're the only thing that isn’t wrong in my life.” 

His raspy words in your ear made you moan, and you blindly reached behind you to touch him, any part of him. He leaned down, his chest flat against your back and his lips found yours, pulling you into a messy kiss. 

“Mhm, should’ve called me down for a quickie then.” You teased him and he chuckled, his cheek pressed against your jaw, the new angle making him sit so deep you could feel him in your fucking guts. God, you didn’t fucking care that he was so much older than you, the way he fucked you, so passionately and so gently at the same time, you didnt care for anyone younger. 

“I don't care for quickies.” he replied with an edge to his voice, despite the sass of your mouth, he could feel the way you squeezed the life out of him everytime he hit that perfect spot, getting you closer and closer to your release.

“You’re such an old man.” you managed to reply, but your witty remarks quickly left you when he slipped his free hand to find your swollen clit, which made you painfully aware of how close you were. But Robby could tell.

“Uh-huh, and this old man is gonna make you come,” There was a bit of amusement in his voice at the way your body twitched under him and the way your face twisted with pleasure. You were so close. “Yeah, thought so.” 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” you choked out, followed by a silent sob when he hit that one spot and you saw white. You were gasping for air as your whole body shuddered. Robby shushed you softly, slowly fucking you through your orgasm. He left wet kisses along your jaw as he whispered sweet words in your ear.

“Atta girl, you did so good.” He hummed as he left a kiss to the side of your head as you dropped your face flat on your blankets, your breath heavy as your body twitched in aftershock. You gasped softly when he slipped out of you, leaving you empty. You wanted to whine, but he gently grabbed your arm and flipped you on your back, and he settled between your legs with ease.

“Alright, lemme look at you. Just want to see how pretty you look.” He ran his fingers over your face, brushing your hair away from your forehead. It was always such a intoxicating feeling to have him on top of you, his pretty brown eyes watching your every move, his chain a reminder that you were about to get fucked (again). You fucking loved this feeling. You couldn’t even make a sound when he slid into you again, your eyes simply fluttering shut and your body twitching with pleasure.

“O-oh my god—!” The way you sounded so utterly fucked out, cock-drunk, it made him feel lightheaded as he fucked into you. He felt a little bad, with how exhausted you both always were, you never fucked this long, or so intensely. So he knew you were going to be so sore for your morning shift tomorrow. But fuck, with the way you squeezed your eyes shut, lips parted, he didn’t want to stop until you were both spent with exhaustion because you just felt so fucking tight and so goddamn heavenly.

“Mhmm I know, I know hun. Feels good hm?” He panted above you, his chain dangling above your face like a mockery of your current position with each thrust he gave you. You nodded harshly, a string of uh-uh-uh’s leaving your pathetic mouth as your nails dragged down his back.

“Feels so good baby.” You squeezed your eyes shut, his voice shooting straight to your pulsing walls, making you whimper.

He gritted his teeth as he felt your walls squeeze the life out of him, a grunt leaving his chest as he reached for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. You squeezed his hand so tight as he pinned your hand above your head, and he planted his other arm beside your head, attempting to ground himself. 

“There you go sweetheart. That’s it.” His raspy voice grounded you as you spasmed around his cock for a second time. Your sounds were so pathetic, the way you sobbed his name was enough to make him completely lose the very little self-control he was holding on to. He fucked you through your orgasm, gave you two, three more sharp thrusts before he fell into his own release, a breathy fuck falling from his lips

Sounds of exhaustion filled the room, drowning out the still on TV you had in the background, your show being completely forgotten the second Robby was at your door. A thin layer of sweat covered his skin as he ran a hand through his hair. Your eyes were screwed shut, your forearm thrown over your face as your racing heart matched your shuddering breath. He sneaked under your arm and left a kiss to the side of your forehead. You giggled a bit and opened your eyes to find his soft brown eyes staring back, there was a smile there, too.

“You want pizza? I bought some earlier from the place you like.” You spoke eventually, your chest now rising and falling in a steady rhythm as you rested your head on Robby’s arm. He turned his head to look at you and smiled in that way that made the corners of his eyes wrinkle a bit. 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll take some.” 

Much to the protest of your legs, you threw yourself on your feet, ignoring the way Robby was chuckling at your struggle. You managed to find a t-shirt, you didn’t know whose it was, probably Robby’s but it was yours now. After making a stop to the bathroom, you were in the kitchen for a bit. Getting fucked made you hungry, so you heated up some pizza for yourself. 

“Here’s your delivery, and I do require a tip.” You announced as you came back into your bedroom. Robby looked up from his phone, and he had managed to find his black framed glasses that you loved to tease him about. And a playful smirk formed on your lips. “I definitely want a tip.”

He looked at you confused for a few seconds then he realized and he blew out a laugh, shaking his head with disappointment. “You know, after a certain age one just gets really tired, can’t keep up with people your age. Not that I would know about that.” 

You snorted as you flopped down on your bed, handing him his pizza and a can of coke because that was all you had in your fridge. “It’s okay, you’re my favorite old man.”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek, bumping his glasses with your nose. He gave you a look out of the corner of his eye that was anything but amused. Which made you laugh even more as you took a bite out of your pizza. 

“I hope I’m your only old man.” He chuckled, squinting his eyes the slightest bit as he typed a text on his phone. God he wished he could turn this fucking thing off. He couldn't even be out of the hospital for an hour before he got bombarded with messages. He caught the way you shot him a glare and he gave you a quick ‘sorry’ before he set his phone down. 

“I dunno, the chief of peds is quite the catch.” You couldn’t help but snort at the look he gave you, and you just shot him a smile. “Jokes. Totally joking babe.” 

You ate in silence for a while, you kew you had to be up again at six in the fucking morning, but you just wanted to enjoy having him all to yourself for just a little longer. There was still a lingering thought in your mind, you’ve had it all night. It never left your mind. Robby was watching whatever you decided to play on the TV when you turned to look at him.

“Robby,” you said softly, he hummed as he turned his head to look at you. “Do you want to talk about today? It's okay if you don’t… I just think you should talk to someone, and I want to listen.” 

You saw the hesitation in his warm eyes, the tension and dread from such a shitty day coming back to him. His lips fell in a flat line, and his jaw locked the slightest bit. You offered him a soft smile as you sat closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder with a soft shake of your head.

“Not tonight, okay? We can talk about it tomorrow.” He sighed out, leaning to leave a kiss to the side of your head. And you nodded with a reassuring smile. 

You didn’t know how he was prior to the pandemic, maybe he was worse, or maybe he had gotten better since. But you didn’t mind putting in a little work to break down his walls and help him open. You would do anything, and you were okay with waiting.

[starluved]

Soup Deliveries

“Thank you, Clark. You really didn’t have to do that.”

The way he looks at you is borderline insane. It’s filled with sympathy, love and gentleness. It’s too much for you to handle. He’s trying to kill you, you decide.

“I didn't. But, I wanted to, can’t have you drowning in tissues.”

Summary: You don't come to work for a while, Clark worries about you and brings you soup. [865 words]

Warnings: Fluff, beginnings of a relationship, reader works at Daily Planet, idiots in love, fem reader

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

“Lois?”

“Yeah, Clark?”

She doesn’t look away from her computer, clearly immersed and preoccupied. Clark doesn’t want to have to bother her, but he’s out of options. He‘s worried about you.

You hadn’t been into work for two days which was rather out of character. You loved your job more than anything. You got paid to write, report and flirt with Clark (of course). The latter being something you’d only got the confidence to do within the past couple weeks. It was still fresh and new.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Just did.” Eyes glued to her computer.

Clark asks Lois if she knows what’s happened to you.

She smiles knowingly. “She’s sick. Something about–something she got from a restaurant she was reviewing.”

“What?” 

“She’ll be fine. Back in no time to flirt your face off.”

He shakes his head in mock annoyance. He says thank you to Lois, now distracted. He wishes you had told him. He would’ve been there at your beckon and call. Cooking, cleaning, letting you rest.

He’s determined to rectify it.

———

Later in the afternoon you’re in the same position you had been in that morning. Wrapped up in a blanket, laying on your side on your couch. Tissues surround you in what looks like a ritualistic circle.

You’re watching your favourite show, though it doesn’t provide much comfort. Your throat is sore, you can’t breath through your nose and your face is puffy. You look like you’ve seen better days.

Knock, Knock, Knock.

The sound startles you. You hope it’s some delivery guy, you won’t ever see again. You pause your show, wrap your blanket around your shoulders and walk towards the door. Soft padded sounds echo throughout your apartment.

You open your door and see Clark. He looks picture perfect—of course.

“Hey,” he says.

You step back from the door. It horrifies him. You’re horrified that he’s seeing you like this. 

“Sorry,” he clears his throat, “I heard you were sick. I brought soup?” He says it like it’s an offering to be let inside your apartment.

It works.

You lead him into your living room. You slightly die with each step you take towards it, knowing the state it’s in. It’s horrid that you two haven’t even been out on a date and he’s seeing this side of you.

“How’d you know I was sick?”

“Lois told me.”

“She’s told the whole Daily Planet?”

“No, just me. I asked. I was worried about you. Seems like I should’ve asked sooner.”

“You missed me?” You tease.

“Wouldn’t you miss me?” Touché.

You look at him sheepishly when you arrive in the living room. “You can sit, I’m just gonna—“ You start picking up tissues to throw them away.

Clark’s eyebrows furrow and he puts a hand on your shoulder. He walks you back into your couch. “It’s okay, sit. Eat the soup. I’ll clean up.”

“You’ll get sick. My germs are all over this place.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

Reluctantly, you let him clean your living room, folding yourself back into your blanket. He walks into your kitchen and grabs you a spoon before getting to work.

He works his way around your living room cleaning up. Your whole body aches, or else you would’ve been helping too. Once he’s finished he sits down beside you. You’ve finished eating too.

“Thank you, Clark. You really didn’t have to do that.”

The way he looks at you is borderline insane. It’s filled with sympathy, love and gentleness. It’s too much for you to handle. He’s trying to kill you, you decide.

“I didn't. But, I wanted to, can’t have you drowning in tissues.”

You laugh. “Jimmy would love to write that story.”

He laughs too. He leans back into the couch. His suit jacket’s discarded, his sleeves are rolled up and a couple of his shirt buttons are undone. He’s relaxed. The sight of him is making you feel better already.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick? I could’ve been here earlier.” He speaks softly, looking at you.

He’s so close to you it’s hard to focus on his words. Your mind is in a daze of sickness and him. “I didn’t think you’d want to know.”

He understands. You two aren’t anything concrete, your relationship is built on flirty banter at work. But, he wants to be more. He wants to be the person you tell everything to.

“I care about you; Of course I’d want to know.”

He’s incredibly gentle with you. It’s crazy. And the way he looks at you, gosh. It’s as if he wants to know you, all of you. His eyes are magnified by his glasses. It’s adorable.

“I know you do. It’s what’s going to get you sick.” You joke, half serious.

He shakes his head softly, smiling. “I’m trying to be serious.”

“I know, next time I’ll tell you. I promise.” Sincerity evident in your voice. 

“Thank you.”

He puts his arm around your shoulders and pulls you into him. You settle against his body and the couch. His warmth spreads to you and you never want it to leave.

If Clark has any say in it, it won’t.

⋆˚☆˖°⋆｡° ✮˖ ࣪ ⊹⋆.˚

Thank you so much for reading!!!

[alpali]

Ushijima who falls hard for you. He loves quietly and observingly. With a small frown on his face he watches you from across the cafeteria. Wondering what you liked to eat, what you were thinking about, what did you like to talk about.

Ushijima who, when you’re around, blushes like an idiot. His brows pulled together and arms crossed. He mostly never makes eye contact with you just because his heart practically beats out of his chest.

Ushijima who finally talks to you and thinks he’s fallen all over again because of how beautiful your voice is. He never wants you to stop he’ll listen to you for hours, for days.

Tendou notices almost immediately and tells practically everyone on the team. It’s a little funny how he’ll openly admit that he has feelings for you except to you in general.

“You guys really haven’t noticed the way he looks at her hmmm?” Tendou teases

“I don’t see a problem. I like her.” He says blindly.

However he always refuses to actually confess his feelings. He’s scared of rejection and that’s what he tells Tendou when he asks.

“Really? That’s it? I mean, yea you’re probably unfamiliar with the feeling.” Tendou deadpans

Ushijima blinks.

“It’s not entirely that. It’s not like my ego would be hurt. I just…don’t want to know that she doesn’t feel the way I do.”

“Because you like her a lot?”

“Yes. Very much so.”

The whole team made a bet with him that if they beat Karasuno, he’d have to ask you out. Which to them would be the easiest way. However they lost and even Ushijima is a little sad they lost the bet.

But here you come strutting up to him, a pout on your pretty lips.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” You rub his arm.

And even though his whole body is warming up and buzzing he can’t help the little chuckle that spills out. You look at him a little confused but he waves it off.

“You’re making it sound like someone has passed. We’ll just have to beat them next time. And I know we will.”

You smile, enjoying the way he sees the bright side of things. Of course this wouldn’t bring him down.

“Yes you will.” You laugh and he lets a small smile grace his lips.

“May I ask you something?” He gulps, his throat suddenly feeling dry.

“What’s up?” You rock back and forth on your feet.

“Would you like to go out sometime?” He avoids your gaze, his lips pursed.

You gush at the sight. The red in his cheeks. This man was a giant but right now he looks like a child being scolded.

“I’d like that a lot. Ushijima.”

He perks up, his eyes gleaming.

“Really?” He blinks.

“Yes.” You laugh and honestly this feels better than winning a match.

“Wakatoshi is fine.” He says.

“My apologies Wakatoshi. I’d love to go out with you.”

Ushijima who is a love sick man.

[ponderingmoonlight]

Sanemi lashing out on his pregnant wife only to beg her for forgiveness later

Pairing: Sanemi x pregnant!reader

Word Count: 3,1k

Synopsis: Like every week, you find yourself on your way back from Shinobu's estate and your pregnancy check-up. Little did you know what horror awaits you at your own home with your husband almost killing two kids...

Warnings: Sanemi is mean in this one and I mean it, extreme hurt but also comfort in the end so don't worry, full Shinazugawa package regarding language and violence lol, not proofread because I have to leave now

Thank you sooo much for that cool request @itsmscoco and I'm sorry it took a while. I really hope you like what I came up with 🤍

You rub your minor belly. For a woman, a pregnancy should feel like a trip to heaven. After all, you are blessed with developing a child that is half you and half your husband. Oh, your beloved and surprisingly gentle husband who always makes sure that you get enough sleep, that you nutrition yourself properly. But even the wind hashira can’t do a single thing against your constant sickness and pain.

“Please try this out, (y/n). Don’t hesitate to come here again if you need something else. You really have an unfortunate pregnancy when it comes to nausea”, Shinobu comments gently while giving your belly a little massage.

“Don’t get me wrong, I am so excited about the honor of caring for a child in my own body. But honestly, I’m so glad when this pregnancy is over”, you huff while taking a deep breath in.

Please, don’t vomit all over the insect pillar who’s just trying to help. You’ve been here what feels like everyday since finding out you’re pregnant. Well, to be exact, Shinobu is the one who suggested that you might expect a child.

Because of your never-ending sickness.

“Oh, there’s nothing to get wrong at all! After all, your pregnancy is a rather difficult one. But I’m sure Shinazugawa is taking good care of you!”

“He definitely does. My husband is an angel”, you reply in an instant.

You can’t wait to go back home. Even though your sleep-drunken eyes won’t be able to stay open longer than maybe a few hours, even though you weren’t able to catch a proper glimpse at Sanemi’s part in the on-going hashira training until now, you can’t wait to go back home. Back into your estate, back into the arms of your beloved husband.

“Not quite the codename I’d use for him, but that’s just what love does, right? I will send a kakushi along with you. Otherwise, Shinazugawa might show up and threaten me”, Shinobu jokes while helping you to get up.

“Thank you for your help. Again.”

You pull the insect hashira into a deep hug. How lucky you should consider yourself for the opportunity to call Shinobu your friend, that Sanemi laid his eyes on you. Out of all the countless women around, the ones with faces like porcelain and bodies so well-formed you can’t hold a candle against every single one of them. But still, he chose you.

“Come on, (y/n). Why are you crying?”, Shinobo whispers into your ear while rubbing small circles onto your back.

“I’m just a little overwhelmed from everything I guess”, you mumble against her comforting shoulder.

Just a few months ago, you would have laughed at anyone who told you that your life would turn out like this. Of course, you’ve lost countless good friends and family members on the way and living with a suborn husband like Sanemi isn’t always easy. But somehow, the two of you always make it work.

Right?

-at the wind hashira estate-

“We are almost there. Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m just a little tired from walking, that’s all!”

Truth is, your feet hurt like hell. Shinobu reported about women who don’t even feel their baby until the second trimester. Why are your feet already swollen, your belly bloated, your guts constantly turning? And there’s still so much ahead.

“Looks like Shinazugawa-sama received a new bunch of trainees after the other corps members all landed in Kocho-sama’s hospital wing”, the kakushi next to you comments dryly.

“Was it really that bad?”

Of course you heard about the rather brutal training methods of your husband. After all, even the walls of his estate aren’t thick enough to stop every single scream from reaching your ears. But still…

“It was pretty bad. Some of the-“

Glass cracking. Screams from afar. Out of instinct, you pick up your pace until you dash towards your home, sweat now dripping from every pore. What happened? Is Sanemi alright? He wouldn’t leash out on one of his students like that. Something must have happened. A demon? No, it’s still daytime. But what is it?

“He’s back! He’s back! That cold-blooded man! Lie down and pretend that you’ve fainted!”, a blonde-haired boy screams while almost collapsing onto the floor.

“What are you talking about? What’s going on here?”, you press out.

Your lungs threaten to fail you, breath already tasting like pure iron.

Until your eyes find Genya.

Your guts twist and turn in every direction, almost force you to vomit all over the place. Genya shouldn’t be here. Out of all people, it shouldn’t be him. And who’s the boy next to him. That familiar scar, you’ve seen that boy before. Is it possible that…

“Kamado Tanjiro”, you breathe out.

Maybe that is even worse.

Your eyes dart around the area without an aim. Where’s Sanemi? Did he find them already? They need to leave before he finds out that they’re here, carry on with another hashira training.

“Please stop now!”, Tanjiro suddenly shouts while stretching out his arm in defence.

An uneasy feeling crawls up your spine, the dark claws of sickening foreshadowing. All you can do is standing death still right where you are and watch in sheer horror as your husband stomps out of your estate motion.

Is that your husband you love and adore, though? You know how untamed he can get especially when getting confronted with his painful past. It was never easy for him to see Genya join the demon slayer corps or realize that his mother could have been saved like Tanjiro’s sister.

But never in your entire life have you seen him like this. The empty shell of your husband, muscles tensed to the maximum and his empty orbs directed towards the two boys in front of him.

In this very moment, you’d trust him to actually kill them.

“What are you going to do? Are you planning to kill Genya?”, Tanjiro continues passionately.

Your glossy orbs are set on your husband. Would he really do something like that? What if you witness the father of your unborn child taking the life of two other human beings? Your heart can’t take it, knees threaten to fail you.

“Hell no, I’m not going to kill him. It would be easy enough to kill him, but since it’s against the rules and all…I’m going to ruin him beyond recovery!”

Until your blurry head finally makes a decision and allows your feet to run.

Straight towards the two boys.

Straight into the firing line.

Straight into the sight of your now maniac husband.

“You won’t do any of these things, you hear me?”, you jeer at him with your new-found courage.

“(y/n)”, Genya breathes behind you.

“How dare you to talk to innocent children like that, Sanemi?”

The man in front of you furrows his eyebrows, hands clenched into tight fists while taking a step towards you.

“Get lost. Right now”, he hisses through gritted teeth.

You swallow hard, all nerves now tingling in sheer horror. This is the first and last warning, without any doubt. The look on his stone-cold face tells you more than urgently that Sanemi isn’t playing, that he doesn’t want you here.

Maybe it’s best if you go back inside and pretend that nothing happened. He himself said that he won’t kill them, after all…

“I’m not leaving”, you bite back.

But that would mean leaving Genya alone. That would mean giving up all of your principles.

“Will you act out like this towards our child as well?”, you continue while growing bigger and bigger in front of the two boys.

He might be your husband, the love of your life. That doesn’t mean you’ll always have to do what he tells you, tough. Instinctively, you clench your hands into tight fists with your glossy eyes almost piercing through him. Enough is enough.

“If our child acts as dumb as you do, I sure as hell will!”

Oh.

Your heart drops to the floor when a nauseous wave of agony hits you with full force. Sanemi is and has always been a hot-headed man who never thought twice about the things he said. But never, not even once in your entire relationship he insulted you.

Until now.

“Is this really how you feel about me? We should support each other, you should listen to me as well as-“

“Spare me with that bullshit, (y/n)”, Sanemi spits at you.

“Get.out.of.the.way. Can’t you hear me?”

It’s like you stop living for a moment. All this time, you did your best to understand him and his grief. Everything Sanemi does comes with a logical reason behind it, even though it’s hard to see from time to time. But lashing out at you like that?

“Stop being so disrespectful to me right now. I am your wife-“

“Right now, you’re my problem”, he jeers back.

“And now get off my sight and let me finish this real quick-“

You don’t know what made you act the way you just did. Was it his cruel behaviour, the way his words cut through your heart like a thousand knives? Before your husband is even able to finish his sentence, your palm races towards his cheek with full force.

The world around you goes silent, frightful gazes glued onto you while you can’t stop your tears from falling anymore.

“Is this how you’re acting around your pregnant wife by now, how you’ll treat innocent children? If that’s the live you chose, I’m not a part of it anymore”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

Suddenly, the urge to get as far away from him as possible becomes unbearable. Your feet start sprinting towards the estate on your own, carry you into your now so empty-feeling bedroom.

And finally, you allow yourself to break down and cry.

Is this really the man you love, that you’d give your life for? Your shaky fingers caress your belly mindlessly.

You can’t stay here. Not when Sanemi showed you a completely different face today. Not when this place doesn’t feel like home anymore.

-a few hours later-

“Fuck!”, Sanemi cries out on top of his lungs while dashing towards Obanai over and over.

Why can’t he get your stupid words out of his mind? The way you stood there with tears in your eyes, how he was literally able to hear your heart crack when those damned words left his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, to drag you into the fuckery with his little brother and that Kamado boy.

But why did he say all those dumb things, then?

“You seem off, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly, hitting the wind hashira with full force again.

“I guess I fucked up”, Sanemi mumbles.

What if you won’t forgive him for today? Your last words haunt him since the moment you left him standing in the rain.

“I bet you can talk your way out of it-“

“Hell nah. I don’t think she wants to see me tonight.”

“Did you ask her, though?”

“Who the hell do you think you are anyway? You’re the one to talk, not able to confess your feelings to Mitsuri”, Sanemi barks at the man next to him.

“But yeah, maybe I should get going…”

Coming home never fuelled him with so much fright. What if you’re still angry at him, if you refuse to even talk to him? Or even worse, what if you’ll really leave him?

Sanemi’s guts turn in an instant, feet now picking up their pace with every step. He can’t lose you. Not you, the light of his life. Not when you are the only ray of sunshine in this rotting hell. What the hell did he do? The fact that he even raised his voice at you is unforgivable.

Finally, his fingers grab the door that leads to your shared bedroom, finally he’s able to make up for his mistakes of today-

His eyes widen in sheer horror.

You’re gone.

Right there where your head should rest, there’s absolutely nothing.

Panic starts rising up his chest, forces his heart down his throat.

Did you leave?

He yanks out of your shared room, eyes roaming around each and every corner of your estate. But you aren’t there. You aren’t here.

“My lady is at the love hashira’s estate.”

Sanemi darts up immediately, greeted by the oh so familiar voice of your personal crow.

“Is she fine, why did she-“

“With all due respect, I suggest you to control yourself before making any more insensitive comments to my lady-“

“Who the hell do you even think you are you-“

“Your earlier spoken words really troubled her and my lady certainly does not deserve that.”

Without another word, your crow disappears into the darkness of night again.

Sanemi swallows hard. Fuck, did he really hurt you that badly? He never wanted you to feel bad, never wanted to hurt you. Damn, he only wanted to show Genya and that Kamado boy their places. It shouldn’t have hit you. Out of all people, why did he have to hurt you?

“I need to tell her”, he mumbles under his breath before dashing towards the love hashira estate.

-at Mitsuri’s-

“I can’t believe Shinazugawa said something like this to you, (y/n)! You are super far away from being dumb, after all! Here, eat another pancake and stay as long as you want.”, Mitsuri babbles while handing you another plate.

Your dry eyes are barely able to stay open any longer. All the grief, explaining, fighting and crying did apparently really wear you out. Good for you Mitsuri’s estate is near by and you just know she’ll always open her arms for you.

“Thank you so much for taking me in, Kanroji. I really don’t deserve your kindness”, you sniffle.

“You have to be joking, (y/n)! It’s my duty as your friend to be there for you anytime you need me! And also, I-”

Three violent knocks on Mitsuri’s wooden door almost send you over the edge. It’s past after midnight, the time closer to the morning than evening. Who would knock on Mitsuri’s door this late at night?

“Do you think that’s a demon?”, you mutter in horror, both pairs of eyes set on the door.

“I don’t think so. Let’s see!”

Before you’re able to stop Mitsuri, she rips open the door.

And reveals no other than your husband.

“Sanemi”, you breathe out.

Tears start swelling up your eyes in an instant when a flood of memories crushes you all over again. Just a few hours ago, your husband made very clear that he doesn’t want to see you again anytime soon. How did he find out that you’re here?

“(y/n), can we…have a talk?”, he mumbles with icy voice.

“Do you want to leave me?”, you blurt out.

“What?”

Is that really how you feel, what you think of him? That he’ll turn his back on you after a fight? He did say all those nasty things to you, though.

“I think I’m going out and…cook!”, Mitsuri announces while sprinting out of the door, leaving you alone in the room with all that tension and him.

Him, the man you love more than anything else in this world. And also him, who broke your heart like he never did before.

“You have to be kidding me”, Sanemi mutters under his breath.

You turn away before you lose your composure completely.

“Why are you here, Sanemi?”

“Do you really think I’m here to dump you!? You, my pregnant wife!? You can’t be fucking serious about that!”

In the matter of seconds, you find yourself surrounded by his usual so comforting arms that now hurt like daggers against your skin.

“Please, let me go, I can’t do this ri-“

“(y/n), please.”

His suffocated voice forces your eyes to dart upwards.

Instantly, your heart drops to the floor.

Is this really your husband, crying against your shoulder while pressing your body against his?

“I’m sorry for all the shit I’ve said, I’m sorry for making you feel this way. I’d never leave you, not when I’m even lucky for calling you mine. I shouldn’t have dragged you into this, I just…I just can’t stand them…”

“Sanemi…”

“And I get that I don’t deserve you and that I’m a jerk for hurting you. I know you could’ve had every man you wanted-“

“Sanemi!”, you snap at him, holding onto his face tightly.

“But you’re the one I want”, you finally cry out.

“But your words hurt me. Is this really how you feel about me? Do you really think I’m a burden?”

“I was out of my fucking mind for saying that to you! You’re my blessing, my everything, the sunshine in this rotting hell. You’re…You’re my wife, right?”

That innocent look on his now tear-soaked face runs shivers down your spine, reminds you that even though he acted out today, this man is still the Sanemi Shinazugawa you fell in love with years ago.

“I am your wife”, you press out before a new wave of tears haunts you down.

“I’m so sorry, (y/n). So so sorry”, he mutters again and again while kissing every tear away that escapes your eyes.

“And I’ll never talk to you like that again, I promise.”

“Will you promise to not treat Tanjiro and Genya like that ever again too?”

Sanemi shifts his weight underneath you, his orbs growing hard again. Was this too much to ask for? No. Even though you love Sanemi’s rough side as well, he simply can’t do something like this again. Not when you’re his wife, not when you are expecting his first very own child.

“I will. But only if these jerks leave me alone”, he grumbles before giving you a passionate kiss.

“That might be manageable. I want to go home now…”

“No problem, I’ll carry you-“

“You really don’t have to carry me-“

“Oh, but I sure as hell will.”

“HAVE A GOOD NIGHT YOU TWO! AND DON’T ACT LIKE A JERK AGAIN, SHINAZUGAWA!”

“Did you have to tell her everything?”

“She’s my friend, Sanemi. Of course I had to.”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @laurencrsnt

[sparklingchim]

reckless | jjk

pairing: idol!jungkook x producer!reader

word count: 3.8k

tropes: idol!jungkook, producer!reader, established relationship, childhood best friends

rating: pg

warnings: smooches!!, jungkook’s being very touchy <3, smoking, lots of pda, one (1) butt squeeze, lots of teasing n flirting (they're in love ur honour), mentions of jk being on a diet, mentions of oc being bullied in the past, just soft lovesick jk <3

summary: a casual date, the skirt’s a little too short, the night a little too quiet, and jungkook's hands on you like he's never going to let go.

a/n: writing this was so therapeutic im this 🤏 close to breaking no contact ❤️ (also dare i say this is the maybe in another universe couple <3)

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

When you round the corner of the building, it’s not hard to find Jungkook.

He’s leaned against his Harley, dark clothes hanging easy on him, making him blend into the night. He has a faint frown on his face as he scans the empty street, toying with his lip ring like he’s lost in thought.

Once he spots you, though, everything softens. His eyes go all boba-round and warm, crinkling at the corners as a smile stretches across his face. That stupid pretty one that makes your chest feel full. He straightens up a little.

“Sorry for making you wait,” you say when you reach him, rising on your toes to wrap your arms around his neck. You hug him tightly. You melt into him without thinking. His hands naturally land on the small of your back, holding you close in his embrace.

“It’s okay, baby.” Jungkook leans back just enough to press a little kiss to your lips.

One of his hands dip even lower, brushing over the curve of your butt and the light fabric of your skirt. It doesn’t take long before he grazes bare skin, catching just the edge where the hem ends and you begin.

“How did it go?” he asks.

“Oh, it was so fun!” you beam, hands coming together in an excited little clap in front of your chest. You bounce slightly.

It had been a long day filming at one of the major companies in Seoul, part of that new show about the behind-the-scenes process of producing k-pop songs. The set was huge – too many lights, too many people, and so many cameras that you couldn’t even look around without feeling watched.

Everything felt loud and fast and intimidating, like you were going to mess up just by standing there.

“I was still really nervous in the beginning because there were a lot of people, but I did what you told me over the phone this morning and reminded myself that just being there already meant I belonged. That in a little while this would be just another thing that I’ve overcome.”

Dare you mention that just this morning, you felt like throwing up at the thought of today’s schedule – and yet, somehow, it turned into something you ended up loving. Getting to work on something you’re genuinely passionate about, surrounded by new people who love it just as much as you, felt amazing, inspiring.

“I told you it wouldn’t be as bad. You wanted to call in sick,” Jungkook reminds you, teasing you with an arched brow.

“I felt so anxious this morning!”

“You underestimate what you’re capable of.”

“Anyways.” Your shoulders slump slightly. “I’m exhausted now.”

“We can just go to my place if you want.” He gently tucks your hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek.

“No. I wanna go to the Han River with you,” you say, lips tugging into a pout.

Jungkook grabs the collar of his hoodie and pulls it over his head. A glimpse of his toned abdomen flashes before his black tee falls back into place. He swings the hoodie around your waist, draping it carefully before tying it snug at the front.

“Can’t drive my bike in a short skirt like this,” he explains in a mumble, smoothing the hoodie down over your butt.

“You helped me pick out this outfit this morning.”

If you’d been left alone in your anxious spiral this morning, you probably would’ve just thrown on whatever comfy thing was closest. But after Jungkook talked you down over the phone, his voice all soft and steady, you felt a little more okay. Okay enough to want to feel pretty, at least. So you stood in front of your overflowing closet, doors hanging open, letting him help you pick something out over facetime.

“Yeah well. You look pretty. I wasn’t thinking about logistics.”

You roll your eyes, but your face warms anyway. “You’re the logistics.”

“Sue me for getting distracted.” He pecks your temple, grinning as he pulls back.

Then he crouches next to the Harley, lifting the seat to reveal a small storage compartment. With a bit of manoeuvring, he pulls out a black helmet, matching his own.

He turns back to you and holds it out like it’s something delicate. “C’mere,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back gently before slipping the helmet over your head and securing the strap under your chin.

“Too tight?” he murmurs, adjusting the strap with the pads of his fingers.

You shake your head.

He grabs his own helmet from the handlebar, slipping it on with practiced ease. The engine rumbles to life with a twist of his wrist, loud and steady. He swings one leg over the bike and settles in before turning to glance at you over his shoulder. He holds his hand out to you.

“Hop on, baby.”

You take his hand, grabbing his shoulder with your other one for leverage as you climb on behind him. Your hands move to circle his middle once you’re properly sitting.

“You good?” He cranes his neck back to you, looking you over.

“Yes,” you reply, hugging his back. “Drive safely, please.”

The engine hums beneath you, the vibration slipping through your legs and settling in your chest as Jungkook coaxes the Harley onto the road.

The wind rushes past in silky ribbons, threading through your hair and curling under your skirt, making you curl closer into his back. His hoodie sways around your legs, and his scent, clean laundry and the last bit of cologne clinging to his skin, fills your lungs. You rest your cheek against the strong curve of his back.

Seoul twinkles around you in bits and pieces, like someone sprinkled glitter across the skyline. Streetlights blink down like stars with somewhere to be.

At a red light, Jungkook reaches for your hand without even looking, like it’s second nature. His fingers find yours and give them a slow, reassuring squeeze that makes your chest flutter. Then his hand drifts upward, trailing a lazy path along your arm before slipping behind him. His touch lands on your thigh, gently brushing his thumb over your skin. It’s just a small stroke, but enough to send a little spark dancing up your spine.

Eventually, the buildings thin out, replaced by the open stretch of the Han River, glistening under the city’s glow. Jungkook rolls into a quiet patch near the railing and cuts the engine.

“My mum would kill me if she knew I was riding a bike with you,” you say.

Jungkook huffs a laugh as he slips off his helmet. With a little shake of his head his hair falls back into place. “My mum would kill me for letting you ride it with me.” He turns slightly to look at you, flashing his soft dimple as he reaches to unclip your helmet.

“And yet,” you retort as he helps lift it off your head, “here we are.”

“Reckless,” he grins, brushing your hair back into place. “But cute.”

~

After a quiet walk along the river, you settle onto a bench facing the water.

“I even got a bit of the lyrics done for the song we finished producing,” you say, tucking your hands into your sleeves

Jungkook hums, slinging his arm over the back of the bench and letting it rest behind your shoulders, pulling you closer. “You need to let me listen to it.”

“I’m not giving you the song.”

“Ah, it’s always worth a try.”

“I’ll start working with you when you guys are over this...era of music you’re in right now.”

“Era of music?” Jungkook scoffs. “You find new words how to describe the fact that you don’t like the new music every time.”

“That’s not what I meant,” you whine, falling into his teasing. “It’s not that I don’t like the new music. It’s just not my type of production,” you quickly defend, truthful.

“At least let me listen to it.”

“When I’m finished you can.”

He lets out a small groan. “I’m terrible at being patient.”

“Oh, I know. Don’t have to remind me.” He’s an impatient boyfriend disguised as your number one fan (which, let’s be honest, he is). Always acting like he’s not trying that hard – when really, he’s the most obvious about it.

You roll your eyes every time he launches into a totally casual, totally unplanned, “hey, wanna show me a little something?” but you love it, every time. You love the way he sneaks into your world like that. Softly, stubbornly.

The sneaky bribes, the casual shoulder nudges, the way he tries to coax you into playing something, anything, even if it’s unfinished. Even if it’s messy. Even if it’s just a late night, the two of you curled up on the couch, guitar perched on your lap, him humming half-written lyrics with his knees touching yours and a smile tucked into his voice. Songs that only live between you two.

“I’ll show it later to you,” you finally say. There’s not much of a fight when it comes to Jungkook. “Missed you.” You rest your head on his shoulder, hugging his arm.

“We should do something before my schedule gets crazy again.” Jungkook pats down his front pockets. He pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Like a small vacation?”

“I’d love that.”

You eye him as he slips a cigarette between his lips, cupping the flame with one hand as he lights it. The cigarette glows at the tip, smoke curling past his cheekbones and drifting in the opposite direction as he tilts his head to avoid blowing it your way. You still wrinkle your nose and lean your head away, your clutch around his arm loosening.

“You’re buying me ice cream for smoking next to me,” you mutter, half playful, half serious.

He exhales to the side again, then flicks the ash off the end with a small grin. “I was already gonna.”

You give him a look. “Not the point.”

“I know.” He tilts his head toward you, eyes tracing your face like he’s trying to read something only he can see.

When you saw Jungkook smoke for the first time while he was waiting for you in the dark, after not seeing each other for a very long time, you felt something twist in your chest. A mix of anger, sadness, and the sick realisation that time had changed him in ways you hadn't been there to see.

It messed you up a bit. Realising he changes in little ways when you're not around to witness it. It made you wonder if he's still the same Jungkook you've always known. If he's still your Jungkook.

Upon talking with him the entire night you quickly came to the realisation that Jungkook will be as much yours as you're as much his for the rest of your lives.

Maybe not in loud, dramatic ways, but in the quiet constants.

There is no version of your life where he doesn't exist - you're too intertwined with each other.

You sigh, the slightest hint of annoyance seeping through, but your fingers find his again anyway, slipping between them. He’s warm, even with the breeze coming off the water. The smoke lingers in the air between you, but his scent cuts through it – familiar, stupidly comforting.

“I say we go on a weekend trip to Jeju,” Jungkook says, his gaze fixed ahead.

Your head pops up. “That seafood restaurant,” you gasp, eyes widening.

He watches you, smiling at your excitement.

“We have to go,” you say, tugging his arm. “I still think about that abalone porridge from that tiny place by the harbour, you remember? With the old lady who called us lovebirds.”

“How could I not?” Jungkook laughs. “She told me to marry you or someone else would.”

You laugh too. “She wasn’t wrong.”

Jungkook snorts, flicking the half-smoked cigarette away and stubbing it out under his shoe. He turns back to you, and you feel his finger brush over your ring finger – it's a subtle, fleeting touch, but you wouldn’t dare miss it.

“I wouldn’t ever let that happen.” He leans in, catching you in a warm kiss.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips, then pull back slightly. “But don’t kiss me after you’ve just smoked.”

Jungkook sighs like you’ve wounded him. Dramatically. Then he leans back in, peppering kisses along your cheek, down the slope of your jaw, and onto your neck, ignoring your protests with every one.

“Jungkook,” you warn through laughter, swatting at him half-heartedly. “We’re not at home.”

“But I still love you the same.” It’s a gentle murmur against your neck, nuzzling the skin there before leaving one last kiss just below your jaw.

“Jungkook.”

He finally pulls back, just enough to meet your eyes, and his teasing fades into something more softer, more quieter.

“I love the way you say my name.”

His mouth curves into the faintest smile, just slightly lifting the corner of his lips. But his eyes hold the sincerity behind his words, the soft glow of them making you feel like you’re the prettiest girl he has ever seen.

Every time Jungkook says this, you’re reminded of when you still wore uniforms and shared secrets in the quiet spaces between classes. When he said it for the first time, you thought he was poking fun at you like the others for pronouncing words differently because you grew up abroad, in the US.

He told you it sounded softer, rounder, like it meant something more when it came from you. He said it made him feel like someone safe. Someone yours.

He doesn’t say it often, but every time he does, you’re reminded of the past. And a soft, nostalgic feeling settles in your chest at the memory of fifteen-year-old Jungkook and you falling in love for the first time. It’s a bittersweet ache because when you think of that time, all you see is blue, but Jungkook was the one thing that still felt warm. Like hope tucked into a person.

And now, years later, even with everything you’ve both grown through and grown out of, that version of him still lives in moments like this. In quiet confessions and shared glances.

Heat nestles in your cheeks. You look away – straight at the river with the twinkling lights reflecting off of it. They remind you of his eyes.

“What?” His voice carries a teasing lilt, like he can’t quite place where your sudden shyness is coming from, but he’s definitely enjoying it.

“I dunno,” you mumble under your breath, hiding your face on his chest while keeping your eyes trained on the water. “I just get overwhelmed sometimes.”

“By what?”

“By how much I love you.”

“Wanna know something?”

“Hm?”

“I do too.”

You smile into his shirt, warmth blooming in your chest.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “You really know how to kill a man,” he murmurs, voice low and a little awed.

You look up at him at that.

“I love you more,” he says eventually, like it’s the simplest truth. “Like... stupid amounts. Heart-aching amounts.”

You giggle, nose scrunching. “You’re so dramatic.”

“You started it.” He peers down at you, eyes soft. “Now let me be in love with you in peace.”

“I’ll let you love me in peace after we get snacks.”

“Will I ever witness a day where you don’t want something sweet?”

“Nuh-uh.” You shake your head with exaggerated seriousness. “The day can’t successfully end until you’ve had a sweet treat.”

“I actually think you’re singlehandedly keeping the candy industry alive.”

“I should be thanked, honestly.”

You rise to your feet, brushing invisible dust off your skirt as you stand in front of him. Jungkook doesn’t move right away. His eyes trail down to your legs, then to the hem of your skirt, fingers reaching out to tug it just a little lower with that automatic protectiveness he tries (and fails) to hide.

“You’re not cold, baby?” he asks, nodding toward his hoodie tossed over the bench behind him.

“No, I’m okay.”

Still sitting, he tugs you gently by the hips until you’re standing between his knees. His hands find your waist like magnets, thumbs stroking slow circles against the sliver of skin where your top has ridden up.

“I like this spot,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your stomach, right above your belly button. You flinch a little, giggling, fingers slipping into his thick hair.

“You’re such a menace,” you say, voice light, but you don’t pull away.

“And you’re so pretty,” he says, looking up at you from where he’s still crouched against your tummy. His eyes are warm, sparkling. “Like... dangerously pretty. You know that?”

You bite your lip. “Stop.”

“I’m serious.” He rests his chin just above your waistband, arms looping around the back of your thighs like he’s not letting go anytime soon. “Sometimes I think you’re not even real.”

You roll your eyes, trying to hold back your smile. “That’s what people say right before they do something stupid.”

He grins up at you, squeezes your thigh just enough to make you squeak. “Then I must be about to do something really stupid.”

“I feel like that’s something for home. Not public.”

“You think so?” He tilts his head slightly.

“Jungkook.” It’s meant to be a chiding. But instead, it escapes softer than you intended, more like a puff of air. Like we shouldn’t but I wanna know anyway. Like stop talking... but actually, no – keep going please.

Instead of backing off like any reasonable person would, he smirks, then has the audacity to give your butt the lightest squeeze, fingers quick and shameless.

You squeal, jumping back. “Jungkook!”

Flashing you a smile that’s somehow both innocent and guilty, he casually grabs his hoodie from the bench and stands up.

You stare at him, half scandalized, half trying not to smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Come on,” he says, slinging the hoodie over one shoulder and glancing over at you with that smug softness that drives you crazy. “You wanted snacks, no?” He grabs your hand.

You narrow your eyes, but your feet already fall into step beside his.

~

It’s not a long walk until you reach the next convenient store.

“It looks kinda busy in there,” you tell Jungkook, peering through the glass. “I’ll just run in real quick. You can wait out here.”

Jungkook squints into the store, brows furrowed. “Who’s in there? I don’t want you going in alone if there’s some creeps.”

You roll your eyes and nudge him with your elbow. “It’s just a group of girls. Relax,” you say. “What do you want?”

He pulls his black card from his pocket. “Nothing for me. Just treat yourself, baby.”

You snatch the card from his hand. “Don’t mind if I do.”

~

You exit the store with a slightly overstuffed plastic bag tugging at your wrist. Being a girl who loves snacks, is hopelessly indecisive – and has her boyfriend’s black card – is a dangerous combo.

Jungkook tilts his head, trying to sneak a look inside the bag. “What’d you get?”

“Too much to name,” you say breezily, fishing out the ice cream resting right on top. “Got this for us, though.” It’s the ice cream that comes with two sticks so you can snap it in half and share. “I always think of you when I see this,” you admit, passing him one half after cracking it down in the middle.

“Ah, I didn’t want to eat any sweets today.”

“Too late,” you tease, nudging it closer to his mouth. “You already kissed me, so that’s off the table.”

He lets out a soft laugh. “That counts?”

“It absolutely does.” You raise your brows. “Now eat, please.”

He leans forward and takes a small bite straight from your hand. “Happy now?”

“Very much so.” You swipe the pad of your finger over a smudge of ice cream at the corner of his mouth, then lick it off with a grin.

He huffs a quiet laugh, head tilting as he watches you with that impossibly fond look. “You’re trouble.”

“Says you!”

With a sigh, he takes it from you. “You’re only getting away with this because you’re cute.”

“I know.” You smile around the ice cream in your mouth. “I can’t have a boyfriend who says no to a sweet treat.”

You fall into step beside him, walking slowly as you both nibble at the halves in your hands.

“I’m dieting.”

“For what?”

He doesn’t answer, just shrugs, proving your point.

That’s when your mind slips, just a little, to all the ways you used to be like this. All the self-destructive habits he had to gently pry from your grip. Jungkook has saved you many times. And you want to be there for him just as much he was there for you when no one chose you. When he was the only one who saw you – really saw you – and still chose to stay.

You reach for his hand, linking your fingers through his.

“I feel like sometimes you live your life like it’s harder than it has to be. Like you’re holding yourself back, setting rules that you don’t have to follow.”

Jungkook lets out a quiet breath. “I know,” he mutters, squeezing your hand. “You’re the first person who made me think maybe I deserve ease too. You make it feel okay to slow down.”

“Am I?” you ask sceptically. You hope you do, but are you actually?

He tips his ice cream in your direction.

You laugh. “Baby steps.”

You glance up at him. He’s licking his ice cream, a small smile pulling at the corners of his mouth like he doesn’t even realize it’s there. It makes your chest ache a little. In that sweet way.

“Jungkook?”

His head turns slightly, face lit soft by the golden glow of a nearby streetlamp. His eyes flick to you, a soft, curious glint catching in them as your gaze meets his. You lean your head against his arm.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for sticking with me through every version of myself.”

It’s a thought that catches you off guard – maybe not entirely, you’re not sure – but suddenly it’s there, clear and undeniable. A reminder that, through every change, every version of yourself, he’s never left. Whether you’ve been at your best or your worst, he’s always stayed. And sometimes, it’s hard to wrap your mind around the fact that someone can love you through all of that.

“There’s never been a version I didn’t love,” he says quietly, like it’s not something he even has to think about.

Your heart stumbles a little, eyes stinging in that warm, fuzzy way that only he can cause.

“You make it really easy, you know,” he adds, brushing his thumb gently across the back of your hand. “Loving you. I don’t even think about it. I just do.”

You blink up at him, lips twitching into the kind of smile that only he gets to see. “I still don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

He tugs you closer to him, your sides brushing with each step.

“You existed.”

[bisexualtwinkk]

don’t make it obvious s.r

flirty!reader x early seasons spencer reid

Summary: Morgan just can’t believe you actually flirt with spencer.

a/n: My first fic! I still can take season 1 spencer out of my mind, that’s all. And also, I love to imagine him all flustered and shy. xoxo NEW PART POSTED AND PINNED ON MY PROFILE

“I just think you do all this as an entertainment, pretty” morgan said looking across the bullpen, more specifically to the 6’1 nerdy man with the prettiest honey-like eyes.

“shut up, morgan, I’m tired of explaining the same thing to all of you” a sigh escaped my lips while I arranged all the paperwork we had left after a horrible case of human trafficking in D.C.

“what thing are we talking about? ‘cause if we are talking about the missing cookies, garcia took them” prentiss said sitting on top of the desk besides mine.

“we are talking about the not so secret crush our best dressed agent here” morgan pointed at me, making my laugh a little, “as on our I dress like a grandpa doctor”

“oh my god, dereck, that is so superficial of you to say! and is not a secret crush, I like to say nice things to my friends , you say things way out off line to garcia and no one bats an eye, but if I flirt a little with spence everyone goes crazy ”

“sorry honey, but if you think you can hide something while working around profilers, you are very wrong” prentiss taped my nose and standing from the desk.

“you guys make me sick, you know that? I’ll go to spend time with my favorite friend’ I grabbed my coffee and walked to spencer’s desk, escaping the teasing from my coworkers.

spencer was too busy writing to notice when I sat on the desk beside him. his hair was slicked back, making his face look even more sculpted, and prettier, than usual. he was wearing a simple white shirt and a black tie, a casual and comfortable look.

“hi, spence, sorry I didn’t come earlier to talk, handsome, was kinda busy with the pile of papers on my desk” he blinked rapidly when the word handsome left my mouth.

“H-hey” he coughed a little, “don’t worry, I can help you if you want, did you now that a higher percentage of women report feeling burned out compared to men at their level? I don’t mind helping you, as long as you want, of course” spence spoke quickly, making me smile.

“if you want to spend time with me you can say it, you know? I really love spending time with you, spence” I played with the end of his tie, watching his addam’s apple move and his face turning an adorable shade of pink. “and thank you, I accept your help, you are the best spence” I give him a quick peck on the cheek while walking away and seeing morgan with a smirk on his face.

“try not to make it that obvious next time” he pushed me in a playful way, laughing at my, more than spencer’s, red face.

“shut up, morgan”

I’m totally screwed by that man, I swear.