#on the outside I pretend to be chill about losing

[hoshifighting]

Can you pleaseeee do staff joshua?

staff!joshua

WARNINGS: smut, figurine malfuncion, getting caught fingering, mentions of penetrative sex, limping after sex, dirty talk.

staff!joshua who was basically an angel in a designer hoodie, swooping in like he was born to save the day. he’d been recommended by an artist friend who was finally leaving the chaos of tour life behind, and, honestly, you’d had your doubts. you weren’t looking for another “helpful” stranger who’d end up tangled in the cables backstage or handing you the wrong mic.

you remember him showing up that first day, eyes bright and wide like he was taking in every damn inch of the chaos with some kinda awe. it was… annoying, actually, because who the hell has that much enthusiasm? the whole team couldn’t stop talking about him, whispering like he was some savior sent from above. you’d watch from across the dressing room, pretending not to notice, like, “oh sure, he’s cute or whatever,” but then he’d catch your eye and smile.

staff!joshua who somehow found himself in the middle of the most last-minute disaster ever. the accessories box—the one holding all your necklaces, rings, and that one choker that practically defines your stage look—got left at the hotel across town, hours away. designers scrambling, panic in the air, your manager about to lose it. you’re standing there, just praying that the team doesn’t fully spiral, and then joshua steps in, calm as you like. he asks for a spare box of beads, like it’s no big deal.

he actually sits on the floor, in the mddle of the dressing room, legs crossed like he’s chilling at some park, and starts putting together these bracelets. fast. you remember being half-stunned, watching him loop bead after bead with ridiculous speed, like he’s been doing it his whole life. and they weren’t just some random bracelets either—they actually looked good. he handed them over, “here you go, should work in a pinch.” like, who does that?

staff!joshua who ended up with half the crew wanting to know where he learned to make accessories like that, and he just shrugged, all humble, “oh, just a thing i used to do in high school.” as if that made sense.

next show, next country, you look out and see rows and rows of fans with identical bracelets. like, those beads? they’ve become a thing. suddenly, everyone wants one, and your socials are blowing up with people asking where they can get cute and colorful bracelets. you’d joked with him after, “might as well start selling these on the merch table,” and he’d laughed, soft and shy, scratching the back of his neck like he wasn’t used to the attention.

staff!joshua who, honestly, makes you wonder if he’s real, he’s always got everything covered, it’s late nights and early mornings, but somehow, he’s always there, making sure you have your coffee just the way you like it, that your schedule isn’t packed to the point of breaking. he’s the one who keeps track of your favorite snacks and stashes them in your backpack, knowing you’ll dig around for them at some ungodly hour.

staff!joshua who insists on walks when there’s downtime to make you less tense, taking you through narrow city streets, where he points out little cafes he researched beforehand, claiming it was just “a lucky find.” he laughs off your suspicions, saying, “it’s just a coincidence,” but you know he’s been studying maps like a tour guide, making sure you get to see more than just hotel lobbies and dressing rooms. he’ll hold your things so you can snap photos or just take in the sights, occasionally stepping back to give you a moment. always there, hovering just close enough to shield you if a crowd forms or if you need a break from everything.

staff!joshua who’s not just watching out for you but keeping an eye on every single person who shows up at airports or outside venues. he scans the crowd with that gentle look in his eyes, like he’s really seeing each one of them, making sure no one’s fainting or overheating. if he notices someone looking a bit off, he doesn’t hesitate, signaling to security or even paramedics to help them out, all while giving them this reassuring smile that somehow calms them down.

staff!joshua who knows when fans come up to you during your downtime and sees that look in your eyes, the tiny hesitation. he’ll lean over, voice soft, asking, “do you want to?” like it’s totally up to you, and it’s cool either way. if you’re not feeling it, he’s got the most polite, warm way of explaining, “i’m so sorry, but it’s y/n’s break right now.” no harshness, no impatience—just enough kindness that no one feels brushed off. but if you nod and say yes, he’s right there, practically crouching to make sure the angles are perfect, even telling the fan how to hold the camera for the best lighting. he gets the shots that’ll probably be framed on some bedroom wall or locked screens forever.

staff!joshua who goes from quietly fussing over your needs to casually slipping into a role that makes every fan interaction feel like the best one of their life. he’s got this way of making them feel comfortable, throwing in a gentle “don’t be nervous,” or even laughing softly to ease the anxiety.

staff!joshua who, without you even realizing it, has gone from that fresh-faced kid with the soft smile to a full-on bodyguard. he’s bulked up over time, muscles straining against the sleeves of his shirts, and when he’s guiding you through a crowded airport or weaving through backstage chaos, you catch more than a few fans sneaking glances his way. he doesn’t seem to notice—or maybe he does, but he brushes it off.

staff!joshua who makes it a point to be in the hotel gym at whatever strange hour you decide to work out. he’s on his own schedule, of course, but he’s catching your attention even mid-workout. he doesn’t say much about it, but you know he’s thinking about your safety, wanting to be strong enough to keep you shielded with his... big chest.

staff!joshua who tries to stay professional when your hand naturally drifts to his arm. it’s like a habit now; his biceps have become your security blanket, something to hold onto when you’re being rushed through a crowd or stepping out of a car in sky-high heels. he’ll give you a quiet amused look, lips pressing together like he’s trying not to smile, but he never says anything about it.

staff!joshua who feels the burn of your touch whenever you steady yourself by pressing your hand against his muscular chest. maybe it’s to fix a shoe strap or straighten your skirt, his breath hitches every time, it’s like a test of his equilibrium, and you can tell he’s struggling to keep himself in check, especially when he catches your smirk.

staff!joshua who’s always one step ahead, guiding you with a gentle but firm hand on the small of your back when you’re navigating a crowded room.

staff!joshua who instinctively stands between you and the flash of cameras, positioning himself just enough to cover you from the harsh lights and endless stares. he doesn’t need to ask; he just knows when to move, leaning close “just stay behind me”

staff!joshua who never complains when you tug at his sleeve for attention, even if it’s the fifth time that hour. attentive look, ready to listen to whatever you need, whether it’s fixing a wardrobe mishap or finding the perfect hiding spot when the crowds get overwhelming.

staff!joshua who’s confused when you grab him and pull him into the wardrobe corner, pointing at the zipper like it’s some life-or-death situation. his face goes a little pink as he takes in the view—your tits all squished up, struggling against the fabric, and his hands practically itching to fix it. “are you sure?” he mumbles, glancing from you to the zipper and back, but there’s no time to pause; you’re due on stage any second.

staff!joshua who keeps his eyes fixed on that zipper, swallowing hard as he tries to get a grip on himself and on the stubborn thing trapping you. his fingers brush against your skin, and you feel him tense up, his breath quickening just slightly. he’s so close you can smell his cologne, fresh and warm, mixing with the backstage chaos, and it’s making it way harder for you to focus on anything else. “just… stay still..” he mutters, his voice a little shaky.

staff!joshua who practically loses it when the stylist finally throws up her hands and says, “just rip it off, joshua! we don’t have time.” his eyes go wide, panic flickering over his face, but then he nods, taking a deep breath. he plants his hands on either side of the fabric, his biceps flexing under his shirt as he grabs hold and gives one solid yank. there’s a loud rrrriiip, and the zipper splits apart, fabric tearing away like it’s nothing under his grip.

staff!joshua who is definitely not prepared for the way the fabric slips, your tits practically jumping in his face, leaving him blinking, wide-eyed, desperately trying to look anywhere else while you scramble to pull on your next outfit. he’s frozen for a second, like he’s processing what just happened, then quickly steps back.

staff!joshua who always insists on separate rooms whenever you’re on tour, like it’s some line in the sand he won’t cross, because he’s all about “boundaries.” but thank god for that, honestly, because the last thing you need is him realizing just how often your mind wanders to him in the quiet of your room after a show, the adrenaline still in your veins. nights like that, when you’re alone and all you can think about is the way he’s looked at you backstage, muscles tense as he keeps everything under control—never fails on making you horny.

staff!joshua who doesn’t know how many times you’ve slipped into your bed and imagined him there with you, his big hands choking you, slapping your face, his mouth kissing you, sucking you, that quiet and respectful control of his breaking just for you. you let yourself get lost in the thought of him, and in the safety of your own room, you give in to all those bottled-up feelings, whispering his name under your breath, touching yourself, feeling your pulse race as you imagine him actually being there.

staff!joshua who has no clue that some nights, you’re too far gone to even muffle the sounds you make, pressing a hand to your mouth as you cum, breathy little sighs slipping out, like he’s actually there. you always tell yourself you’ll be quieter next time, but every show seems to make it worse, every touch from him leaving a trail of him that lasts long after he’s gone.

staff!joshua who probably wouldn’t know what to do if he ever caught you like that—caught you in the middle of one of those late-night moments, your head thrown back, his name slipping from your lips, no shame. the thought alone is almost too much to handle, but you keep going back to it, night after night, letting yourself imagine just a little more.

staff!joshua who, one night, knocks on your door to deliver something you left behind in the venue dressing room, completely oblivious to the fact that you’re in there, already lost in thoughts of him. you dont even hear the knock over the sounds of your own pussy, and you don’t realize he’s actually come in, quietly calling your name, until you see his shadow across the wall.

staff!joshua who stands there frozen for a second, just staring, his fingers fumbling with the doorknob like he’s trying to make a quick exit but forgot how doors work.

when he finally remembers to turn the handle, ends up pulling it the wrong way, the door making this awkward little squeak as he fumbles to open it again. he’s all flushed and stuttering out apologies, but he’s rooted in place, eyes darting back to you like he’s trying to process what he just walked in on and failing miserably.

your heart its almost jumping from your chest, but you let the duvet slip just a little, the fabric falling away from your legs, exposing the curve of your thigh, the soft line of your hip. his eyes follow it, widening just slightly, his fingers gripping the door handle even tighter.

staff!joshua who, when you tug his wrist gently, doesn’t resist, he lets you pull him closer until he sits by your side, as you whine “joshua… come here,” in that low, inviting way, and something shines in his eyes, like you’ve struck a nerve he’s tried so hard to keep hidden.

staff!joshua who finally presses his lips to your neck, his hand moves up your thigh, fingers fastly pushing the duvet away, leaving you naked. when he finally slides his hand over you, through your damp folds, the feel of his fingers brushing your swollen clit, making your nipples harden.

his thumb presses the clit savoring the reaction he’s getting from you. you can tell he’s testing every little gesture, finding what makes you pant, what makes your hips move toward him.

staff!joshua who presses his fingers in, slipping past the wet folds, to the gummy walls, the first slide inside so warm, so deep, and you let out a moan—that you don't have to hold anymore, afraid that he would hear from the next room—your pussy already clenching around him. he groans softly, leaning over you, his arm flexing as he presses deeper, his other hand coming up to grip one of your wrist up your head, holding you steady as his fingers curl impossibly tight. you can feel the tension in him, the restraint, but the way his fingers move, lets you know he’s not holding back with his touch, at least.

“like that?” he asks, and you nod, swallowing down a shaky breath as he picks up the pace.

staff!joshua who starts to move his fingers a little deeper, making a funny wet sound, until you’re gripping the duvet, your head tipping back.

staff!joshua who, lets out a low chuckle everytime you moan a little louder. “what was that hm? a moan? for me? tell me..”

staff!joshua when he notices you squirming under his touch, about to cum he teases more “so needy... you don’t even have to say it.” he pauses, letting the fingers sink in, as you feel his other hand come up to grip your thigh, holding you as he continues. “what would they all say if they saw you right now?” he muses. “you know, you make it so hard for me to be professional sometimes.”

staff!joshua who, when he notices you clenching your fists in the duvet, laughs softly, a low, wicked sound. “go on,” he whispers, his fingers curling just right. “let me hear everything.”

staff!joshua that after every single time you thought you’d caught your breath, would lean down, “not done yet, sweetheart,” before sending you spiraling right back. destroying your poor swollen cunt after cumming multiple times..

staff!joshua next morning, is already at the hotel breakfast with the crew, sitting perfectly, like he didn’t just ruin you the night before. he watches you walk in, eyes glinting as he sees the way you’re moving—trying to walk normally, but the subtle limp gives it all away.

staff!joshua who has the audacity to pat the empty chair next to him, tilting his head with an innocent expression as if he’s not the reason you’re struggling to walk. “sleep well?” he asks, but you know he's holding back a laugh. you shoot him a glare, but he just raises an eyebro.

staff!joshua who leans in, voice quiet enough that only you can hear, and whispers, “if you need me to help you up to your room after this, just say the word,” his fingers brush against your knee under the table, so subtle that no one else would notice, but it’s enough to remind you of every. single. thing. he did to you last night.

staff!joshua who has no problem keeping that perfect poker face as the morning goes on, answering questions, making small talk with the crew, all while casting you the occasional glance. every time he catches you shifting in your seat, trying to get comfortable, he hides a smirk behind his coffee mug, thoroughly enjoying the sight of you flustered and sore, his own private victory.

[btsvt-bar]

off my face

pairing ꩜ fuckboy!wonwoo x afab!reader

sequel to this drabble, read it first to understand their dynamics ♡

warnings ꩜ smut, mdni!, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, belly cumshot.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

fuckboy!wonwoo who’s obviously whipped, but won't admit to it. when you say your hookup was a one time thing, he gets lowkey upset, but pretends he doesn’t care.

fuckboy!wonwoo who stops following you around like a puppy. he misses being around you, but he’s stubborn and decides it’s for the best if he takes some time away to get over you.

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets really drunk at this one frat party and kisses some random girl. in his head, he pretends it’s you. however, it’s not as good as it was with you on your night together.

you see the pathetic scene from across the room and roll your eyes at him. if you’re being honest, you expected him to chase after you. so you’re kinda disappointed when he walked away.

Nayeon sees your sour expression and nudges you lightly. "You should’ve told him how you feel" your sunbae comments while you take a large sip from your beer.

"He’s not interested, I chose well when I decided to keep my mouth shut" you reply before turning your back, deciding you had enough of Wonwoo drama for the night.

fuckboy!wonwoo who scans the room to see if you were watching. He feels his blood boiling when the realizes you’re chatting with his friend DK at some secluded corner.

fuckboy!wonwoo who leaves the party. You really ruined the night for him.

fuckboy!wonwoo who locks himself in his room for the rest of the weekend. It’s been a while since he played so much videogames, but he needed the distraction.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sees you walking around campus with DK by your side. he feels so fucking jealous when he sees you laughing and smiling so cutely at Dokyeom.

It’s Friday night and you’re at another frat party. You’re outside chilling with DK by the pool, with your legs inside the warm water.

"Have you noticed he’s obsessed with you?" DK points out, grabbing your attention from whatever Mina was saying.

"Who?" You play dumb.

"Wonwoo" the brunette sips from his cup. "He can’t stop looking our way".

You shrug. "He doesn’t care, he’s made it clear".

DK scoffs, sporting an incredulous look. "You don’t possibly believe that".

"I do" you try to convince yourself more than DK.

"Want me to prove you wrong?" DK smiled slyly. "How about we kiss? You’ll see he’ll lose his shit".

You analyze the boy by your side, from his prominent nose, cute crescent-shaped eyes and large smile. Dokyeom is handsome, eager to kiss you and you honestly would like to kiss him too.

"I’m not a home wrecker" you say, thinking about preserving DK’s and Wonwoo’s friendship.

"We don’t live together." That’s all it takes for you to throw your best sense out the window and pull DK in for a heated kiss.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sees the exact moment you kiss his friend. He lets his beer cup fall from his hand, wetting his and Jeonghan’s sneakers.

"What the fuck?!"

Jeonghan follows his gaze and lets out an amused laugh. "Looks like our Kyeomie got what we all wanted!"

fuckboy!wonwoo who gets up early the next morning and goes straight to your dorm. He spent the night raging and came to realize he likes you and wants to be with you.

fuckboy!wonwoo who knocks on your dorm door and wakes you up. Your hair’s disheveled and your eyes are barely open when you answer it.

"Wonwoo? Did something hap-"

"I like you, Y/N. I really, really, like you and it killed me to see you with someone else last night" he cuts you off and spits out his confession before he could chicken out.

You blink slowly, your face scrunched up in a confused expression. "You what?"

"I like you. I lied when I said that night was a one time thing for me, because it wasn’t. I only said that because you said it first".

"I only said that because I thought that’s what you wanted". You notice some people are crowding the hallway, listening to your conversation. "It’s better if you come in".

fuckboy!wonwoo who shuts the door behind him. Your roommate is nowhere to be seen, and it makes him feel more comfortable.

"Look, me kissing DK meant nothing. It was a dumb idea, I didn’t want to hurt you".

"It’s ok. I was — well, am — jealous, but it’s ok" His cheeks tint red at his confession. "But you can make it up to me".

fuckboy!wonwoo who basically jumps you when you allow him to. He gets you both naked in no time, sliding between your legs and kissing down your body.

fuckboy!wonwoo who eats you out diligently, licking and sucking on your lower lips and clit with enough expertise to make you see white in no time. He keeps teasing your fluttering whole with his thick fingers, but never gives you what you want.

fuckboy!wonwoo who can’t wait to get inside you and turns down a blowjob. "We can do that later" he promises and he positions himself at your entrance.

He pushes in slowly, making you both moan out loud. You’re sure everyone is listening to what you’re doing, but you honestly don’t give a damn.

When Wonwoo bottoms out, his hips move hard and quickly.

fuckboy!wonwoo who grabs your hand and intertwines your fingers. You smile brightly and, with your free hand, pulls he in for a loving kiss.

fuckboy!wonwoo who makes you cum first before letting himself go. He pulls out and empties his balls on your stomach, you’re so spent that you don’t even mind.

He falls by your side on your small bed, sparing a few moments to catch his breath. He lays so still you think he fell asleep, but he sits up and asks "Do you have wet wipes?"

fuckboy!wonwoo who cleans you up and helps you get dressed again. He puts his dark blue boxers back on and cuddles you, feeling his eyelids weighting a thousand pounds.

"Nonu?" you call him by the nickname only you used. "Yeah, pretty?"

"What are we?" you ask with a shy tone. You needed to be sure, so you could rest. Wonwoo gets up on his elbow to look at you before answering:

"Boyfriend and girlfriend." He states. "But give me a few hours so I can ask you properly. You deserve something better than this".

fuckboy!wonwoo who nearly melts down when you smile so prettily at him. You kiss him again, feeling super happy.

Wonwoo lays down again and pulls you close to his chest, almost instantly falling asleep with you on his arms.

fuckboy!wonwoo who sneaks out to buy flowers, chocolate and a huge bear so he can officially ask you out.

The next day, everyone is talking about how the shy angel managed to tame the infamous fuckboy.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・

© btsvt-bar, 2024

m.list ♡

[carolmunson]

i'm the best thing at this party | e.m.

up and coming rockstar!eddie munson x girlfriend!reader (is that a picture of slash? sure, but we can pretend it isn't.) aka the first time carol ever wrote a fic based off a taylor song. but in my defense, it was a chase petra cover of 'you're losing me' that inspired it. this is not connected to my rockstar!eddie x actress!reader storyline, this is it's own oneshot in a separate story.

in the early 90s, when your boyfriend's band starts to make it in the big leagues, you start to come to terms with the fact that he might not want or need a small town player anymore. eighteen plus. established relationship. angst. hurt/no comfort-ish. open ending.

"and i'm fading, thinkin': 'do something, babe. say somethin'. lose somethin' babe, risk something. choose somethin' babe. i got nothin' to believe, unless you're choosing me.'"

The Hideout was hot with all the bodies packed in like sardines; stark contrast to the icy chill of winter outside. Glowing on the screen was The Tonight Show, everyone’s eyes glued to it while Corroded Coffin made their first national televised debut. 

No one’s totally sure how their manager Richie was able to finesse this slot – but they went to New York to film earlier in the week and didn’t ask any questions. With Richie, it's better to not ask questions and just let it happen. Eddie came home with an adrenaline rush so intense that he barely slept for three days. No matter how much you tried to keep him in bed and tire him out. 

And sure, it was hard to have him be gone while you drove out to Indy and took a friend to see the new graffiti art exhibit that came in from LA when it was supposed to be with him. It was hard to have him miss a lot of things. His return from the city only started another big talk about it, one you've been having every few months the last two years. Even so, you couldn’t help but be proud of him, proud of all of them. Remembering that just four years ago they were barely getting fifteen people in here to see them play when you first started dating. 

The crowd erupts when the camera comes off of the band on the stage and back to Leno at his desk, the boys in real life all standing on the bar. You look up at Ed and smile, he finally did it, he’s doing it. The contracts are signed, the people saw him, he’s gonna make it. He’s making it. 

You duck out of the way when they start to spray champagne over everyone by the bar, “Not my hair, babe!” 

The two  bartenders pour shots of Jameson and flutes of Prosecco while the show cuts to commercial and it’s not long before you feel the sticky chest of your boyfriend up against your shoulder, “It was good? I did good?” 

“Ed you’re…you’re fuckin’ famous,” you grin, “You’re fuckin’ famous!”

You follow while he leads you through the crowd, settled in near the back where the stage doors lead to the dressing room and out into the parking lot. He looks over his shoulder twice before he sneaks you both behind the amps; heart pounding when he leans you up against the painted cinder block walls, noses mashing when he takes your lips in his. It’s feverish, desperate when he pulls at your hips, one arm wrapped around your mid back to keep you steady up against him.

“Lemme – mmm – lemme take you to the green room,” he breathes between kisses, moving your hand toward the bulge in his jeans, “C’mon I wan–” 

“The interview’s up!” Jeff calls from on top of the bar. 

“Where’s Ed? ED? Come on! The interview’s up!” Gareth calls, the crowd erupting in a cheer of ‘Edd-ie, Edd-ie, Edd-ie!’

“Come on, come on!” you squeal, pulling away to pull him toward the front of the bar again, “You said they were gonna cut it!”  

“It’s stupid, babe,” he assures, “It’s so dumb.” 

“Ed, you’re being interviewed by Leno, this isn’t stupid,” you urge, “This is like – this is it.” 

“It’s literally like two minutes, it’s not special,” he doesn’t move when you pull him along with you, a frown pulling on your lips. 

“Eddie,” your voice raises an octave, tugging on his hand – he lets go. 

“I’m gonna take a leak,” he shrugs, heading toward the green room while you watch him disappear behind the door. Your brows furrow slightly, but it doesn’t stop you from making your way back to the edge of the bar where everyone’s eyes are glued to the medium sized screen in the corner. 

The crowd cheers again while the band is re-introduced, Eddie and Jeff sitting on the chairs with Gareth and Grant standing behind them. You admire the way your boyfriend looks post performance, nearly glittering with sweat but glowing with pride – with accomplishment. You look over your shoulder to see if he’s back from the bathroom yet, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

“So we got a group of some – what looks like – nice, respectable hard core guys,” Jay smiles. 

“I don’t know about respectable,” Eddie scrunches his nose back at the host. 

“I don’t know about nice, either,” Jeff jokes. You marvel at how relaxed and natural they all look on camera, cracking wise and getting laughs from the audience. They talk about the album briefly, and the front cover which has all four boys in caskets with a red kiss print on their cheeks. 

“So, the debut is self titled, Corroded Coffin – but it looks like you all got a coffin kiss here,” he points out, “These from anyone special? You got the girls going crazy.” The audience erupts in cheers and screams, a bra finding its way flung into the sound stage. You giggle when Gareth and Grant  hold it up, making them both blush pink on the screen. 

“Well I got a girl at home, so, I don’t hear any screamin’ if it’s not her cheering for me,” Jeff’s smile is bright when the camera focuses on him and he winks into the lens. Sasha, Jeff’s girlfriend, screeches in the crowd of The Hideout. 

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna do that!” she beams, and your heart thunders while you watch them kiss on the bar. The promise ring that he gave her back in ‘88 shines on her ring finger, awaiting something much more flashy when that first big rockstar payday hits.

“It’s definitely a change of pace,” Grant nods on the screen, “Definitely wasn’t getting a lot of girls in high school.” 

“It’s wild,” Gare laughs. 

“And what about you, Munson,” Jay asks, “Frontman like you’s gotta be beating them off with a stick.” 

The camera focuses on him, his pink lips and smart grin, a flash of teeth before he starts talking. He’s so handsome, you feel your fingers and toes start to tingle when he opens his mouth.You weren’t expecting to hear your name on national television, or be alluded to. You’d never really prepared yourself for something like this. To be declared to thousands, maybe millions, as a rockstar girlfriend.

You swallow the nervous spit pooling in your mouth, heart pattering while you run through all of the scenarios of the outcome of being ‘announced’ in your head.  

“I don’t kiss and tell, Jay,” he smirks.

Oh.

Your hearing clouds and your vision blurs – unsure of what you just heard. If maybe you imagined it, but that proves to be untrue when you feel a few sets of eyes on you. A moment of silent confusion lulls on the crowd at the bar.

You swallow the lump in your throat, fingers and toes cold now while the blood rushes to your heart and head, to your lungs which suddenly forgot how to work. Through teary eyes you look around, drowned out by the cheers of the bar when Jay announces when the album will release. You sniffle, trying to hold it back – but there he is in the back of the crowd now, eyes rounded; pleading, looking straight at you. 

The tears spill over and you try to catch your breath as you make your way through the bodies on your way to the front door. You hear Gareth call after you, hearing him stumble over the barstools while he hops off the counter. Another ragged intake of breath shakes through you while you get closer to the sticker covered door, pushing through the first set and then the other into the dark blue night. Your breath puffs white in front of you, coat abandoned somewhere back inside The Hideout while you walk across the street to your car. 

You fumble with the keys, blubbering while you get the engine started and the radio blares Al Green’s Let’s Stay Together part way through the song. In the rear view you see him hustle out of the bar to search for you, catching the start of your car and getting to the passenger window before you can pull away. 

“Wait, wait, wait,” he strains, his fingers hanging on the edge of the half open glass, “I promise it’s not what you think. Richie asked me to answer like that, it wasn’t on purpose.” 

You press slightly on the gas, making the car lurch forward and inch.

“Wait! Please don’t – don’t just go,” he begs, voice breaking with desperation, “We can talk about it.” 

You look at him through wet eyes, the street lights haloing behind his head to feign his innocence. He can talk himself out of anything.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you rasp out quietly, “We’ve done enough talking.” 

“I can…please don’t go,” he says again, “Not with you crying like this, c’mon. Don’t leave.” 

“I’m gonna go home, Ed,” you sniffle, “J-just go h-have fun inside. S’too cold to be out here.” 

“You don’t have your coat,” he states, “Come back in and get it. We can talk in the back, please.” 

“I don’t need my coat,” you garble out, “I’m going h-home.” 

“Well I’ll – I’ll bring it to you tomorrow morning,” he nods needily, “Okay? Is that okay?” 

You let out a shaky breath, fogging again against your windshield, “F-fine.” 

Eddie cracks a weak but winning smile, “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.” 

“I love you,” he adds. It tastes like ash in your mouth. You pull away before you feel compelled to say it back. 

Eddie show’s up in the morning with coffee and your coat, a small carton of donut holes for you both to share. He’s all smiles, seeing you in the kitchenette cleaning out the coffee pot that you now no longer have to fill. 

“Morning, baby,” he grins, “I brought your coat.” 

“Thanks,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the droplets of water that race down the side of the glass pout, “You can just hang it on the hook.” 

“Are you…are you still upset with me?” his voice is airy, surprised while he makes his way behind you. Calloused hands reach around to pull your back in his chest, nose nuzzling against your cheek. Your stomach rolls, bile inching up the base of your throat. 

“Enough, Ed,” you sigh, pulling out of his hold. 

“Sweetheart, c’mon,” he huffs, “I told you already. I didn’t want to say that. But you know how Richie is! He just wants what’s best for the band and so do I! Don’t you? I thought you’d understand.” 

“Jeff had no problem talking about Sasha,” you do your best to measure your tone, too early to start yelling. 

“Jeff has the wholesome thing going for him; plus – you know his family isn’t for him being considered like, a rogue or whatever. He’s already in a metal band,” Eddie explains, like this is a totally normal conversation, “Richie even said this morning that he was getting a lot of calls.” “Okay,” you nod, sitting down at the small table in your kitchen where your coffee sits. 

“And like, a lot of people wanna do interviews with us and get hype up for the release,” he half smiles, sitting down across from you, “I told you, it was…it was a good thing. They were saying y’know like, mysterious bad boy front man is a good angle.��� 

“Great.” 

“It doesn’t…babe, it doesn’t mean we can’t be together,” he leans forward, hand reaching out to touch yours. His shoulders sulk when you put them both under the table. 

“Ed I –” you let out a breath, eyes tracing a pattern on the waxed canvas tablecloth, “I can’t even look at you right now. And you wanna tell me we can still be together?” 

“What like it’s…some consolation prize?” you choke out, “You made a fool out of me. The looks I got?”   

“I know, I know, but it was for the band. You know how I feel abo—“ 

“How you feel about me?” you hold back a bitter laugh. 

“Ed, the last year or so we have kept having the same conversation over and over again. You are so, so caught up in Corroded and making it and getting there and trust me I am so proud of you. If there is anyone on the planet who is more proud than me maybe it’s Wayne, but – this is just like, this is kind of it. We have nowhere to go from here.” 

He’s quiet for a moment, his brown eyes rounding and brows tilting slightly when he realizes what you’re really saying, “What do you mean no where to go? Are you not listening? I said we can still be together, just like befo–” 

“Before? Before when?” you get up and pace back to the kitchen where he can still see you, “Before when you would cancel dates to go practice? When you missed my awards night for work  because you wanted to fill in guitar for a gig in Ohio? When you didn’t come to my poetry reading with the guys like you said you would and instead got plastered at The Hideout after rehearsal?” 

“Well I apologized for all that, that was all in the past couple years and I – look, I said I was sorry and you accepted that,” his voice raises slightly, he stands up to full height with defense evident in his stance, “You can’t just throw it back in my face.” 

“When you were gone weeks at a time for mini tours, for opening for bands on the East Coast – god, all the work I took off to make sure I was there for you? When you canceled our three year anniversary dinner, without my knowledge, because you got a call for discounted studio time on the same night,” you manage to get out, the tears inching toward the edge of your lash line, “And I sat there at the table in my new dress and everyone looked at me the same way they looked at me last night. Poor girl. Must’ve got stood up. What an idiot.” 

“Yeah well that studio time is why we were on fuckin’ LENO, babe!” he pleads, “Don’t you get that? It’s for us!” 

“It’s for you!” you break, the shrill frustration coming out with your voice, “It’s always just been for you. It’s always about Eddie and the guys. I have done nothing but make sacrifice after sacrifice, excuse after excuse to play the part of perfect, understanding, cool, laidback girlfriend but like fuck Ed, when is it gonna be about me, huh?” He stands there, unsure, cheeks sucking in between his teeth.

“And what’s on the docket for you on Friday? Have any plans?” you ask, your voice softening while you cross your arms over your chest. You lean the small of your back against the counter while you watch him. He clears his throat, hands finding their way into the back pockets of his jeans. 

“Um, we have some meetings in the morning in Indy. And then um, we’re gonna take a late flight out to LA. The label’s excited – they’re really excited,” he breathes out, eyes finding the floor and your sock covered feet.

“Oh, that’s interesting,” you nod, voice still measured, “Since we’ve had the tickets for my niece’s winter school concert on the fridge for over a month. I guess I’ll have to tell her that her favorite bonus teacher couldn’t make it.” 

“Fuck,” Eddie’s eyes shut, pulling his lips in to run his tongue across them while he thinks of what to say next. Your heart thrums in your chest, throat getting tighter and tighter while you hold back a cry – this was just another thing to add to the list.

“I can make it up to her, I promise,” his raspy nicotine voice becoming garbled with desperation, “I can make this all up to you, too. I swear. I wish you had just told me about all of this.” 

“I have, Ed. We are always having the same conversation. I’m tired of having it. I’m so tired of this. Make it up to me? How do you make up for it?” 

“I…” he chokes on his words, ringed fingers running over his face and reaching to pull his hair back off his neck. 

“Go ahead,” you encourage angrily, “What’re you gonna do? Say something. Fucking, do something, Ed!” 

“Baby, I don’t know what to…” he swallows, tears pooling in shiny wells over his eyes, “What do you want me to do? I’ll do it. I’ll do anything.” 

You take a breath through your nose and let it out through your mouth, taking the three steps it takes to get to him. Your hands fall from being crossed, reaching up to cup each of his cheeks. Your thumbs run over the apples and drag softly over the stubble left over from the night before. 

His eyes shut while he keens into your touch, his rough hands covering yours. Calloused fingertips coasting delicately over your knuckles. You know what you have to do, even if his touch makes you want to do the opposite. 

“Go be famous,” you shrug, smiling weakly, “Go be the big rockstar I know you are. Like how you wanted. Go play The Garden and live in LA.” 

Your hands slide down his face, tears falling after them, “Go do all that, and just, um – just leave me alone. Please.” 

“But I don’t–” he starts, pulling in a sharp breath while a cry leaks out of him, “I don’t wanna lose you.” 

“Oh, Ed,” you shake your head while the ache spills over into your own leveled sob, “I’m already lost.” 

“No, please,” he begs, trying to catch your hands as they make it back to your sides, “Please, baby, I’ll fix it. I pro-promise.” 

“There’s nothing left to fix,” you whisper in finality, “You should go.” 

“I don’t want to,” Eddie’s soft pink lips quiver while he speaks, “Please. Please. I can fix it, the next interview, anything, it’ll be all you. I swear I can…I can…” 

When your face doesn’t change he knows there’s no way to pull you from your stance, voice trailing off in defeat. You watch as he rips open your storm door and goes to his van, his chest and back shaking with sobs that make the hardware on his jacket cry with him.

A year passes and you are not surprised when you find out that Corroded Coffin has made the cover of Rolling Stone. Wayne bought every copy from the gas station at the end of the road and put them in every mailbox early that morning. You don’t think there’s been a day in the last year that Wayne wasn’t seen beaming ear to ear; his boy finally getting everything he wanted. 

Life had gotten easier now that you weren’t regularly expecting disappointment. You went on few dates here and there, just trying to navigate your life after spending four years sharing it with someone else. Some nights were colder than others, but it was better than the frigidness you felt that night at the bar.

You did your best to avoid the tabloids – Eddie was certainly doing just fine navigating his life as a bachelor; some new model or actress on his arm every other month it seemed. Hardrock’s Resident Playboy. It stung the first time you saw it, and a little less each time after – heart breaker to the core; you would know, you were the blueprint.

In the same cold that matched the night at The Hideout a year prior; you sat on your steps wrapped in a robe – morning cigarette between your fingers. 

“Morning,” Wayne’s voice is gravelly when it sounds over you, still soaked with left over sleep. 

“Mornin’ Wayne,” you smile, taking a sip of the steaming cup of coffee in your other hand. 

“Wanted to uh, to let you know that the guys are playin’ a show in the city tonight. I could uh – I could get you a ticket if y–” 

“That’s sweet of you Wayne,” you smile tightly, “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 

“He might like to see you,” he shrugs. He hadn’t quite gotten over the break up the way you and Eddie had, convinced that this was the real deal – that he was watching young love flourish into something bigger. 

“He’s seeing someone, Wayne,” you take a drag of your cigarette, “Why would he want to see his ex-girlfriend who still lives in Hawkins? He’s got some actress girl now, right?” 

Wayne shrugs again, scratching at the back of his neck, “I never know what that boy’s got goin’ on in California outside of shows and gettin’ into trouble. Maybe he is seeing some girl but, y’know, seein’ an old friend could be good for him.” 

“He’s still got plenty of friends here he can see,” you let the smoke out to drift off in the gentle wind rustling through the line of trailers and mobile homes, “I don’t think I need to be one of them.” 

“Well, they’re gonna have a small after party at The Hideout tomorrow,” he offers, “Even if you just wanna do somethin’ fun. I never see you goin’ out anymore.” 

You laugh, “You work at night, what do you mean you don’t see me goin’ out anymore? I go out plenty.” 

His eyes linger on you, enough to encourage a thoughtful sigh – you might as well humor him. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?” you toss your half finished cigarette onto the browned grass before looking back up at him.

“Okay,” he smiles, eyes sparkling as he makes his way back inside. 

You spend the next day deliberating between making it to the bar or not, putting in the effort to get ready and showing up. Why bother? Just to sit awkwardly in the corner while everyone flocks to the boys and tells them how great they are? They already know they’re great, they’re crawling higher and higher up the ladder. 

You haven’t even talked to Eddie since the morning he left your trailer, and Wayne knows that. He knows how bad you hurt his nephew because he came over to talk to you a week after Eddie went to California and stayed for good. ‘So why should I show my face there? So I can relive the moment he made a fool of me over again?’ You think while the hot water of the shower glides over your shoulders and down your chest. 

‘Maybe it’ll be good to make amends or something, I at least owe it to the guys,’ you figure silently while you slather on some moisturizer at the bathroom sink. And you did – not seeing Eddie meant not seeing the rest of the band. Gareth, Jeff, and Grant were your friends too, and you sort of broke up with them in the same instance. Sasha moved out to California with them soon after – it would be nice to catch up at least. You hadn’t seen her since that night. 

‘But why would I want to bother? So I can see that engagement ring on her finger and hear her talk about her wedding plans?’ you swallow sourly while you use a touch of your lipstick as blush on the apples of your cheeks. ‘Remember all the times you thought you and Ed were gonna get married? Hilarious.’ 

Before you know it, it’s 11:30 and you’re standing outside of the sticky and stickered covered door of The Hideout. Even from where you’re standing the bar is a buzz like a hive, energy inside like a livewire when you get into the entryway, showing your ID to the bouncer at the inside door. 

‘Small after party my ass, Wayne,’ you think to yourself when you get in, shrugging off your coat. There was barely room to move and most of the lights were off or dimmed aside from the small stage in the back. By the looks of it, they must’ve played a small set – an intimate ‘home base’ concert for the real hometown fans. You push through some of the crowd, acrid smoke haze hovering over the room. A single bar stool sits empty at the end of the counter close to the wall and before you can think about it, you beeline straight there before someone else can grab it. Not that anyone would be able to see it through the six couples making out to Slayer blasting through the speakers. 

The bar tender notices you soon after, coming over to get your order while his two cohorts speedily pour shots and mix drinks. You almost don’t want to get anything just to make the night easier, but opt for a beer instead. 

“How much?” you ask over the music. 

“WHAT?” the bartender shouts, holding a hand to his ear. 

“HOW MUCH?” you yell back. 

“ON THE HOUSE. BAND IS COVERING DRINKS,” he shouts back. You take a few dollars out while he pours your beer anyway, sliding it across the bar with a smile. He smiles back, pocketing the ones with a wink before helping another person leaning over the bar. 

The TV takes your attention, a tape of their recent interviews and music videos playing on a loop with no sound. The beer is almost comforting as it passes over your tongue, it’s been some time since you just sat in a busy bar – and for the most part, no one here even knows you. For the most part. 

A call of your name snaps you back to reality, looking around to see exactly who you thought you would. Sasha. And low and behold a ring sparkles bright on her finger, a breathtakingly big diamond glittering in the neon lights behind the bar. 

“Hey!” you call back with a smile, sick crawling up your throat. You watch as she fights the crowd to get over to you, wrapping you in a tight hug while you stay seated on the stool. 

“How have you been? You look gorgeous,” Sasha’s tan skin glows back orange in green while the lights change, tight dark curls bouncing prettily around her face. 

“I’ve been good!” you nod, your voice hardly sounds like your own, “Y’know just – hanging around Hawkins. How’s LA? How’ that ring?!” 

She holds her hand out so you can really see it, her skin is warm in yours while you take her fingers. It’s more beautiful up close, the marquise diamond flanked by two smaller triangles in perfect harmony. 

“He did so good, Sash,” you giggle. 

“I slapped his arm so hard when I saw it,” she laughs, “I said, ‘Jeff we could’ve bought a freakin’ house!’ but you know how he is.” 

“I do, I do,” you nod, “Did you set a date?” 

“Probably not for another year or so if we do a big wedding,” she shrugs, “Maybe a little longer? We think it’s smart to actually buy a house first – with this kind of money coming in. And y’know, the industry is, uh, well, it can be wishy washy. What’s in today could be out tomorrow. We wanna be smart.” 

“Well thank god he’s marrying someone like you then,” you tease. 

“That’s true,” she beams, “Do the guys know you’re here? I can go grab J–”

“No, no, they don’t,” you interrupt, taking her arm gently while she turns to leave, “You don’t have to tell them I’m here. I’ll go find them, I promise.” 

Sasha gives you a half hearted smile, “Okay. Well – We’re sitting over by the stage if you wanna come say hi to the guys. Gareth would lose his mind, and Grant brought his new girl with him, she’s so cool. They met in LA and she’s like, got the sickest punky-goth type of thing about her.” 

“I love that he’s in love,” you gush. 

“Me too,” she nods, “The girls are obsessed with him out there.” 

There’s a silence, but it’s knowing – still one person yet to have been mentioned but you both seem to understand it’s not worth bringing it up. Sasha reminds you that they’re by the stage, giving her a wave while she disappears in the throngs of people in the crowd. 

Half way through your second beer and a couple of random conversations with people later, you see him in glimpses while people pass by. You can tell by the smirk on his face that he’s flirting, and when more people move and re-disperse, settling, you see glimpses of her, too. Some cute young looking thing, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was her twenty-first birthday. All doe eyed and giggly while he leans over her against the wall near the booths. I guess whoever he’s seeing in California isn’t too important.

He looks good, healthy, you can tell his clothes are tailored now – sort of comical that a tailor would fit and adjust ripped jeans and an old leather jacket. Not that he has to know you think it’s funny. 

Eddie leans forward and lets his finger tap her on the nose, a tell-tale sign of his that they’ll kiss later. He’s used that move on you more times than you can count. He did it the night you met, tipsy at a party at Gareth’s – tapped you on the nose, making you scrunch it. 

‘Aw, if I knew you’d make a face like that I would’ve booped you way earlier.’ 

‘What do you mean? What face?’ You scrunch again. 

‘That face,’ he bites his lower lip, blush on his cheeks, ‘It’s a cute face.’

You expected it to hurt more, to watch him active in his element; but it doesn’t. You know the motions, you know his tells, he next move. You can see it in the way he leans into her and then leans away – almost kissing her, but leaving her wanting more. You smirk into your next sip, counting down the moments until he puts their conversation on pause to do their rounds and finding her again later. Gotta keep her yearning, you guess. He certainly was always good at things like that. 

You don’t see their reunion, you assume it was somewhere near the stage where the band and Sasha were. At the end of the night, the boys play a goodnight mini-set, just three songs. You’d never seen Ed so in his zone in your life, fully basking in the glow of upcoming stardom. Every chord and every lyric punching out of him like the sweat pouring from his hairline and chest. This was what you wanted, what you told him to do. 

Go be famous. And here he was. Famous. Just like you said he would be. 

Water takes the place of your beer while they play; and you know better than to get up and join the crowd. Much happier sitting at the end of the now more empty bar just listening instead of getting potentially punched or tussled with amongst the bodies. 

People take their time leaving when the set is over, shrugging on their coats to brave the cold weather. 

‘Thanks for comin’ out to celebrate with us – now get the fuck out so our buddies at the bar can go home before four!’ 

You savor the conversations and music settling down to a much quieter murmur while you sketch on a napkin. A few people you shared niceties with tap your shoulder to say goodbye, new friends you’ll never see again. On the other end of the bar you hear Grant and his girl order a round of shots. Your head almost pops up at the sound of his voice, but that might bring attention to you that you don’t think you really want. Now that the night is over, you’re glad you came. If anything, just to see that they were making it just fine – and they would have with or without you. 

With less people in the bar you can hear Sasha’s laugh in the back where the stage is, and you laugh into your napkin turned sketchpad. Her laugh was always infectious, enough to make the crowd follow suit. You grab a fresh napkin from the pile next to you and start to doodle again while you figure out how to best leave without anyone catching wise that you’re here. Out of the last twenty people left at the bar, a little more than half knew who you were.

The tap of the pen on the bar top while you think blends in with the tinkling of hardware that gets a little louder the closer it gets to you. A squish of leather and drag of a barstool later makes you privy that someone’s next to you. Spiced cologne and sweat sheened skin. 

“You come here often?” 

Slowly, you turn your head – level with brown eyes you haven’t looked in for a year, just in the glossy pages of magazines you’d leave behind at the grocery store or Melvald’s. 

“I used to,” you offer a quiet tired smile, leaning your chin on your hand on the bar, “It’s been a while.” 

Eddie smiles back, soft, cautious, “Yeah, same for me.” 

You both don’t speak for a moment, adjusting yourselves on the barstools while a few more people head out to leave. The jingle of the door fades out, crunches of the parting patrons’ sneakers and boots in the snow sound outside.

He clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him – the curls of his hair, the slight stubble on his jaw and cheeks. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth for a moment before he turns his chest toward you. 

“Can I uh, can I get you a drink?” 

[ram-bles]

Headcanons with Daisuke and Shy Reader? Thanks if you do :)

daisuke x shy!reader headcanons

[ requests/inbox: open ]

oh boy changing the mood with this one

fluff, gender neutral reader

⚠️ dude/bro used but in a gender neutral way lol

Sorry this took so long! I had to rewrite more than half of this since I forgot to save as draft the last time 😭

🌺 The first you've seen him was while processing your papers for the internship. He was busy double checking his own papers on his way out so he didn't notice you. The first time he sees you, was during the Tulpar boarding.

🌺 To no surprise, he approaches and greets you first, rambling on about how totally excited he was to work with you and the whole crew. You shook his hand with an awkward smile as you exchanged introductions.

Once the captain had given you both an overview of what you guys might do while on board, he immediately turns to you, jutting his hand out for a handshake. "Heya! I'm Daisuke!" You swore you were blinded by how bright this man smiled at you. "Dude, I'm like so so glad you're here. Everyone else here besides Cap' seems so— yeesh. Gloomy." You realized you've almost left him hanging and you almost dropped your bag trying to shake his hand. He laughs and you felt your face warm up in embarrassment. He switches topic immediately. "What's your name? What uni you from? - oh! What college are you in?"

🌺 You wouldn't notice it until later on that you'd often trail behind Daisuke, especially when you don't know what you're doing or how to help (he doesn't know how as well but he pretends he does).

🌺 Assuming that the rooms are very limited and can house two members per room (bunk bed icon by Curly's quarters door), you two got paired up since Swansea didn't want to be in the same room as Daisuke did.

🌺 A coin had to be flipped for the top bunk since Daisuke kept on insisting that you take it but you were also insisting that he takes it.

🌺 Even before the crash, he's either on his gameboy, magazines, or his iconic pink dumbbells when you guys have the free time.

🌺 Once comfortable enough, you two were inseparable. Always together by the hip outside intern work. The top bunk was useless since you'd both end up chilling at the same place, either sprawled against each other or claiming territories at each end of the bed doing whatever hobbies you two were into.

"Bro, you're kicking my faaaace. I can't see what I'm reading." You whined and tried pushing his leg away since you were scanning through one of the magazines he brought and he gives you a mischievous stare. "Daisuke, no." "Daisuke, yes." He pauses his game and throws it to the side, yanking your leg as you squealed and flailed around. You lose. But you both end up laughing as he locked you to his side, giving you a noogie, not long until Swansea busts in to scold you two for being too rowdy.

[might make a one-shot of this if you guys are interested?]

🌺 Hey, even if you guys are that close already and you don't chat as much, he'll be the one doing it for the both of you. I don't make the rules.

🌺 If you have inquiries with the other members, he accompanies you and asks the questions for you.

🌺 Daisuke pretty much drags you with him for whatever shenanigans he's up to. Don't worry, he takes the blame if you guys get caught and makes sure they think you're uninvolved.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

prompt #5 with conrad!! maybe reader and conrad are best friends but there's always been tension and one night they make out (maybe in the pool or on the dock?) but reader freaks out about it when she goes bed and decides the next day to act normal and pretend like it didn't happen so it doesn't make their relationship weird <3

This request is so old, I'm very sorry to the anon who sent it... I forgot to finish the ending and post

—

Ever since that silly spin the bottle game in Oliver’s basement when you were thirteen years old, you’ve been dying to kiss your best friend. You hadn’t realized what the fire of jealousy in your guts meant when you saw Penelope and Mariah kissing Conrad as a result of the game, but you did three years later when he told you about Aubrey. 

Their relationship didn’t last until summer. So, when the Fishers came back to Cousins, he was your Conrad again. 

That summer, you could write a full journal about the many almost-kisses, more-than-friends gestures and special attention between you and him.  

Unfortunately, nothing happened until two summers later. 

It was late, you and Conrad were sitting in his backyard, talking on the poolside with your feet dipping in the water. Sometimes you would have a night dip, but the moon was full above your heads, which added a chill to the night air.  

And then, it happened.

Conrad kissed you. The world around you blurred from the gentle way he was cupping your cheek as his lips pressed against yours, the chirp of the crickets fading into white noise, and for that brief moment, it was just the two of you. 

As you were sneaking back inside your house, you fought an urge to scream. It finally happened. Conrad had kissed you. Thirteen-years-old you would never believe it. You flopped down on your bed and squeezed your pillow, needing to exteriorize your excitement without waking your parents. 

You couldn't wait to see him again tomorrow. To greet him with a kiss and watch the look on your friends’ faces. 

What if that kiss was a mistake though? You both wanted it when it happened, but what if tomorrow Conrad regrets it? Or, what if you get together and then realize it’s not working and break up? No exes stay friends after breaking up. Your grin was immediately wiped from your face, the fear of losing Conrad settling in. 

You made sure to keep your distances the following day. You tried to not make it too obvious that Conrad would catch on, but just enough so he wouldn’t make another move on you. Even if you were yearning for another kiss. 

‘’Do you want to go on the boardwalk?’’ Conrad asked, leaning on the kitchen island as you were eating cherries from the fruit bowl. 

You nodded, swallowing before speaking. ‘’Sure. Who else is coming?’’ 

 ‘’Just me and you.’’ 

Suddenly, the boardwalk didn’t seem like a good idea. Being alone with Conrad didn’t seem like a good idea. 

‘’I don’t know…’’ you hesitated, glancing outside and seeing the bright sun. ‘’Isn’t it a bit hot to go on rides? I don’t want to get a heatstroke.’’ 

Conrad hummed. It wasn’t that hot, in his opinion, but he didn’t push. ‘’We could go in the pool? I think Steven and Jeremiah are already in there.’’

The four of you played volleyball for a bit. You usually teamed with Conrad, but you decided to switch and play with Jeremiah instead...which turned out to be a mistake. Your team wasn't doing great; Jeremiah was terrible at volleyball and you were much shorter than your opponents. You tried bringing up the unfair disadvantage, but Steven’s phone went off and he had to meet with Shayla. Jeremiah followed suit, seeing Belly was back from her debutante lesson. 

Which left you and Conrad alone. 

You felt him pass under the volleyball net and come up behind you, but you disappeared underwater and swam away. Unfortunately, your tactic must not have been as smooth as you thought because Conrad saw through your plan and called you out on it. 

‘’Is this what we do now? Making out and then never talking about it?’’ he questioned, sounding more disappointed than mad, which pinched your heart. 

You were caught off guard by his words, not expecting him to be so blunt. ‘’What do you want me to say?’’ you replied, your tone a pinch too defensive.

The pool's rippling water seemed to mirror the tension between you two. 

Conrad exhaled deeply. ‘’Why are you acting like nothing happened? Because last night you were pretty into it and now you’re pushing me away.’’ 

You closed your eyes, remembering his hand under your shirt as you were kissing by the poolside, groping and massaging your tits in a way that made your panties wet. You wanted to experience it again. 

‘’Last night was a mistake. We…we can’t.’’ You shook your head, stepping back as Conrad swam to you again. ‘’It’ll ruin our friendship and I don’t want to lose you as a friend—’’

‘’I don’t want us to be friends anymore. I want more.’’ He reached under the water to grab your hand. ‘’How many times do I have to say it until you get it?’’

—

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[red-writes]

On a dark and stormy night

professor! izuku midoriya x student! reader

summary: reader is in love with her professor and izuku is weak when it comes to you...

content contains: daddy kink, spanking, squirting, smut, the nickname 'little girl', reader gets her back blown out.

red's note: a little darker than what I typically write also am I slowly developing a daddy kink? who knows

it's pouring outside but you're not willing to turn around now. your hair is sticking to your face, your jeans are clingy and cold and you can't seem to rid yourself of the chill that the poor weather brings you. your finger hovers over the doorbell, hand shaking as you decide to press the small button. you've been to his house so many times but it feels different right now, feels like you're making a mistake. the lightning that cracks in the sky makes you jump and almost solidifies that gut feeling as truth but as you're about to turn around the door opens.

"y/n?" he asks, then he gasps and pulls you inside. his house is warm and yet you still don't stop shivering.

"you're soaking wet-- how did you get here?" he asks as he runs to the sofa and drapes you in a blanket, every time you've come to his house he always drove you seeing as he lived further than any professor on campus. he ushers you from the doorway after you kick off your shoes and you don't open your mouth to respond, instead you grab his arm and he halts in his tracks.

"are you okay? what's going--" his words get caught in his throat as he witnesses you. you've dropped the blanket onto the floor and you begin undoing the clasp on the front of your top before it slides off your shoulders.

"'m cold professor.." you say, voice small and izuku swallows hard as you unbutton your jeans, sliding them down your thighs before kicking them away. you unhook your bra and let your breasts free for deku's eyes to swallow whole.

"please warm me up" you plead as you reach for his hand and place it on your hot mound. izuku swallows yet again and his mouth is held open for a moment before he speaks, shocked at your bold display.

"you don't know what you're doing..what you're asking me to do" he says, but doesn't move his hand.

"don't you want me professor?" you look down at the erection poking against the fabric of his sweatpants. "it looks like you do"

he shakes his head 'no' but again makes no move to push you away and so you walk closer to him, so close that your chests are pressed against each other and he sucks in a breath, he can feel how hard your nipples are through the thinness of his t-shirt. he can't do this, he shouldn't do this. you're his student, someone who admires and looks up to him by indulging in this he would be way out of bounds. he could lose his job, he could lose everything.

"y/n..you're just confused. I know, after having those conversations about your life growing up and your father not really being there for you, having a person like me step into that role has you wanting to cling onto me, to have me fill the void of your dad but I'm not him and we shouldn't be doing this. if you leave now, I'll forget it ever happened. I'll pretend I never saw you like this" he states, firmly although his voice wavers when he feels your wetness soak his fingers from over your panties.

"fine" you say and pull away from him, izuku is relieved, thinking you've finally come to your senses but instead you pull down your underwear and kick them to the side, you bend over the back of his couch and spread your pussy lips open for him to see.

"you're right professor, I want you to be my daddy." you turn your head behind you to look at him and your fingers find your clit as you rub circles onto the twitching bud. "professor, don't you want to be my daddy? please say yes daddy...I need you" you moan and izuku's cock drips pre-cum into his underwear, cock hard and pulsing at your words. his feet are glued to the floor but his eyes are focused on every sway of your hips, every press of your fingers onto your clit.

"daddy, please, come fuck me daddy" you whine as you slip two fingers in your soaking cunt and begin fucking yourself with them. izuku curses under his breath and walks over to you taking your fingers out your cunt, he uses that same arm to pull you up and he smashes his mouth against yours. your hands are quick to find the band of his of sweatpants and shoving the grey fabric down his thighs, just enough to expose his cock. you lean back over the couch and he strokes his cock a few times before pressing the reddened mushroom tip against your fluttering hole. in one even thrust he's fully seated inside of you. the girth of his cock had your hands squeezing the back of the couch for dear life. every thrust he gave you felt like he was knocking the wind straight out of your lungs.

"does my little girl like that? does she love the feeling of her daddy's cock stretching her out?" and your cunt squeezes around his cock at the sound of the nickname falling from his lips.

"yes daddy!" you cry and he does as you ask, his thrusts become harder, rocking your body forward and his cock grinds against that soft spot inside your cunt, making your eyes roll as his fat tip assaults it with ease. he slaps your ass and the sting has your cunt squeezing his cock like a vice and izuku nearly cums at the feeling. he raises his hand and slaps your ass again, this time you cum from the burning sensation left behind on your ass cheek. your eyes roll back into your head and your body trembles underneath him as your orgasm washes over you. but he doesn't stop, he keeps spanking you until your ass is raw and bruised just so he can feel that vice-like grip on his cock. you're well past overstimulated, the feeling of getting your cunt fucked on top of having your ass spanked until it was painful had yet another orgasm drawn out of you a rush of liquid shot out of your cunt and onto the man behind you as well as the floor.

"no..stop daddy 'm squirting! stop stop aah!" you cried but he didn't, he couldn't, not when the girl he'd been lusting after for months finally forces his hand. not when he was so close to cumming. izuku looked up from the place where you two met and looked at your fucked-out face, eyes hazy with drool dripping out the side of your mouth. with a mumbled 'fuck' he felt his balls tighten as he came. his hips didn't stop immediately, his thrusts were shallow and he laid on top of you as he finished emptying his load into you.

he only moved off of you when he felt himself soften inside of you. when he pulled away a mixture of your cum dripped out of you and onto the floor beneath you.

"let's get you cleaned up" he says and you stand back up on wobbly legs and walk until you sit on the couch. he follows you and you pull him by his t-shirt to the floor in front of you and it's clear what you want him to do.

"daddy will you eat your little girls pussy, please?"

izuku gulps. his eyes dart from your eyes to your swollen, ruined cunt. his cock was already beginning to swell with blood once more. you were dangerous but izuku just couldn't resist you.

[jasmineoolongtea]

hii!! i recently just started following you and i don’t wanna overload you with anything so i stress that i urge you to take your time and if you feel like you need to tweak anything then you can since i noticed you barely opened requests :)) i was just wondering if you could write something ( whether it be headcanons or a fic ) about gojo having a jujutsu sorcerer for a girlfriend / partner and his students don’t know so they’re all shocked when they just see this badass person next to gojo and he just casually introduces them as his partner lol. just a thought!! make sure to take care of yourself 💕

a/n: thank you smmmm for the kind words <333 yes omg i love this idea and honestly, i imagine gojo pretending to be chill on the outside but on the inside he's fangirling the same way his students are over his partner cause he's just so whipped and down bad for them jdjsndnsbd

"Shhhh! Quiet down, you two or you're gonna get us all caught." Nobara hisses through her teeth at Megumi and Yuji, trying her best to be quiet. It was quite a comical sight actually, the three students were all stacked on top of each other as they all attempted to crane their necks into the doorway as discretely as they possibly could.

"I still don't understand why we can't just ask like normal people." Megumi sighs, clearly exasperated at his friend's antics.

"You're such a buzzkill, Fushiguro." Nobara scolds him over her shoulder. It was like he didn't even understand the gravity of this situation.

This wasn't a situation where they could just waltz in and chat it up like regular unless they were intent on embarrassing themselves. This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to meet the current rising star of the jujutsu world: the newly minted special-grade sorcerer L/N Y/N who was famed for being highly elusive, never being in one place for too long to be tied down to somewhere.

Rumours and stories were constantly swirling about you ranging from the more serious ones about your incredible feats of jujutsu and how you managed to exorcise a grade 1 curse for one of your very first missions without breaking a single sweat to more silly ones like that you only wash your face with the purest spring water that was imported from the Swiss Alps and that allegedly you and Gojo Satoru were seeing each other. She thought the last one was particularly dumb as she was sure that a person of your calibre would have better taste than to date their man-child of a teacher, even if he was the strongest. Whatever it was, Nobara was not going to let those two ruin her chances of possibly being able to talk with you face to face.

Above her, Yuji groans out in pain as he feels an elbow jam into his stomach.

"Hey! That hurts!" Yuji complains loudly, his grip tightening around the wooden door frame.

"Can't you be in pain more quietly?" Nobara asks and with that, the two of them were sent into a bickering spat as they traded harsh whispers and snappy comments. However, this would prove to be their end as Megumi eventually loses his balance from all of the commotion above him and tumbles onto the floor with the other two following suit as they land in what can only be described as a failed human pretzel.

Unfortunately, their crash was not as quiet as Nobara was hoping for as one of the office's inhabitants stood up from his seat, seemingly made aware of their presence. "Oh? It seems like we have some eavesdroppers in our midst."

You hum to yourself, your back still facing the doorway as you turn to your white-haired companion. "Is that true?"

"Yes, I think I might know who they are as well. If only they would be so brave enough to reveal themselves." Gojo sighs dramatically, even bringing a hand to his chest as if to feign sympathy. You can't help but giggle softly at his behaviour.

The three of them take that as their cue to stand up, dusting themselves off as they slowly make their way into the office in a single file line. When Nobara sees you, she can't even let herself fully fangirl because the amount of embarrassment she has at getting caught trying to eavesdrop is far outweighing it right now.

Gojo makes his way towards his students as they stand lined up, his hands rubbing together and a devious grin on his face as he puts on his best menacing voice. "Now now now, what do we have here?"

"Satoru, take it easy on them. I'm sure they meant no harm by it." You place a hand on his shoulder as you stroll up to his side. His arms immediately fall to his side as he melts under your touch.

An adorable pout graces his features, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to put on his best puppy dog look as he whines at you, "Awww, but you're ruining my funnn. I don't get that many opportunities to do this."

"Sensei, they know you by your first name?" Yuji questions, his head tilted slightly to the side as he tries to figure out what relationship you two could possibly have.

A sly snicker is heard from Gojo as he quirks his eyebrows towards you. "They know me in a lot more ways than just that" he quips back, his tone bordering on being an outright innuendo.

You roll your eyes affectionately at him, clearly used to his playful nature by this point, and give him a light shove on the shoulder to which he pretends to exaggeratedly nurse in pain.

"Sorry for not introducing myself properly, my name is L/N Y/N and I'm a special-grade sorcerer here on a visit to Tokyo Jujustu High." You smile warmly at your boyfriend's students, your hands clasped in front of you as you greet them.

Nobara could feel her breath hitch in her throat as a million thoughts ran through her mind. Oh my god, you, her idol, were actually right in front of her and were acknowledging her. She swears she could die happy right this instance but that would mean that she wouldn't get to take full advantage of the chance to talk to you fully. With that, she snaps out of her star-struck daze and politely inquires, "If you don't mind me asking L/N-san, what are you here for?"

"Oh, they're here to visit yours truly, me!" Gojo chimes in, a megawatt grin on his face with a sense of pride radiating off of him as he motions to himself.

A tsk sound escapes Nobara, clearly distrustful of her teacher's statement. "Yeah right, they have way more important things to be doing than that."

"But it's true though! My lovely partner is here to pay a surprise visit to me!"

"There's no way that that's true. You and them?" As if to punctuate her point, she points at you and Gojo standing side by side and firmly shakes her head. "Nuh uh. They wouldn't date the likes of you."

A soft smack is heard as Gojo theatrically clutches his chest, stumbling back from where he stands to drape himself over you. "It wounds me to hear you say that Kugisaki." He claims, his expression twisted into one of faux pain. When he turns to face you, his demeanour suddenly switches as he leans in towards your ear, a roughish smile on his face with a faintly seductive lilt to his voice. "Maybe we should kiss to prove that it's true."

"Don't be crude, Satoru, they're your students and they're right in front of us." You try to brush him off of you in an attempt to spare his students from becoming witnesses to their teacher's love for PDA but he doesn't let go of his grip, instead choosing to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck as if trying to coax you to stay with him in his embrace. Like always, you relent to his touch with your fingers carding through his snowy locks, a soft sigh of approval leaving his lips.

There's a beat of silence as Nobara and Yuji try to process what they've just learned and the fact that they've just seen a visual confirmation of it before that peace is shattered and they erupt into a thousand questions. You field all of their burning questions ranging from ones about you to about your relationship with Gojo with grace, amused and endeared by their excitement and insatiable curiosity. Secretly, it warms your heart deeply that Gojo and his students are so comfortable with each other and that he can be himself around them without the pressure of the greater Jujutsu world on his back.

You turn to look at the clock and sigh at how fast time has gone by. "Alright, I'll see you at home Satoru and Megumi." You comment, packing up your belongings as you get ready to leave to attend to some business. Gojo leans down to your height as you place a lingering kiss against his cheek and wave him and his students goodbye.

Unblinking, Yuji and Nobara turn to each other and then to Megumi before they exclaim simultaneously. "You all live together!?"

Oh boy, Megumi knows he's going to be in for an earful with that.

[sh0esuke]

" Frustration " - ENG VERSION.

Starring : Joshua Washington.

Summary : After a few months spent studying in the city, the Washington siblings can finally rest at the Washington Logde located in Blackwood Mountain, this time, the getaway being quite small, they only bring one person with them. The beginning of the weekend starts, and the guest seems to have many catch-up to do with Josh. Without their parents in sight, away from the city, they only have one thing in mind.

Warning : sexual content.

ENG : PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORKS. If you want to translate it, ask me first then we can talk about it. If you want to find me on Wattpad, my account is in my bio, this is the ONLY ONE i have. FR : MERCI DE NE PAS VOLER MES OS. Si vous avez envie de les traduire, merci de me demander la permission avant. Si vous voulez me retrouver sur Wattpad, j'ai un lien dans ma bio, c'est mon SEUL compte.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 𝟑,𝟎𝟏𝟗.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are heavily appreciated. All types of support are ! Thank you !! <3

A/N : English isn't my first language so I apologise if you find any incoherence/mistake in this work. I tried my best to translate it as I know not many french people read fanfiction about Until Dawn, I wanted to see if i was able to write in English and also maybe find other fans of Josh on this app. I truly hope you will enjoy my work, feel free to criticise anything, I'm willing to learn and get better. Thank you !!

“Are you going to close that window or what ? I’m freezing !” 

I bring my hands to my arms, rubbing them generously in order to make my goosebumps disappear. A huge storm is blowing outside, the shutters can’t hold straight, they won’t stop slamming against the windows, and a few snowflakes manage to enter the room and melt on the floor. Even with a blanket on my shoulders and my legs warming up under the sheets, I'm still freezing to death. My whole body is shaking. My toes are iced. Winter has always been rough here, in the mountains, makes me wonder why Josh’s family has made it a tradition to come here every now and then. It must be a habit for him, he grew up there the cold doesn’t do anything to him anymore. But, unfortunately for him, not me. I’m cold and I can’t take it anymore. I await only one thing; for him to close this damn window and join me in bed.

“Give me two sec’ babe, I'm trying to put on some ambiance. Wouldn’t want the neighbors to see us while we wrestle between the sheets, if you know what I mean. Well, you know.” he jokes. 

“You won’t wrestle anything if you waste any more time.” 

“What ? You’re breaking my heart.. I did all I could to make you happy and It’s a little storm that’s going to come between us ?” 

He rotates the window handle. He looks at me questioningly, pretending to be hurt. 

“The next house is miles away !” I curse. “Hurry up !” 

A smirk takes place on his lips. He approaches the bed, take off his jacket and climb on it before leaning in my direction. Our faces are getting closer. Using my elbows to lean forward, I kiss his mouth. The blanket falls from my shoulder, sags onto the pillow which makes a chill run up my spine –or it’s because Josh’s hand is grabbing my neck, fondling my jaw with his thumb. My stomach wiggles. I close my eyes and let him take over me. 

Josh kisses me. 

The day was tough, between the walk here in the mountains, cleaning up the place, Josh, Hannah, me and Beth have worked hard in order to make this house a home. The rest of the year it collects dust, we had a lot to do.

I thought about it the whole day. Me, him, finally alone in his bedroom, I dreamed of it between two strokes of feather duster, three snow fights and a non-satisfying meal. So, in this moment, having him against me, his hands on my body and his lips on mine, it’s a fantastic sensation. I need him closer. I want to entirely lose myself to him, forget our exams, the pressure of an uncertain future and our parents’ expectations. Everything falls apart while he is sliding the sheets off my legs to take place between them and while he pushes his tongue in my mouth. I shiver. My fingertips are pulsating, my heart is racing and I'm losing my mind. A fire is burning inside of me, which makes me forget about any kind of coldness and which gives me the irresistible desire to let go. 

Josh's lips are tender. They’re thin and unctuous. I’ve always loved touching them, with mine or my finger, other parts of my body. I love feeling them against my skin. They give me the impression of flying. It’s as simple as that : they touch me and nothing else matters, everything disappears only to leave nothing but me and him. 

My hands reach his shoulders then his hair. His strands of hair are getting tangled as I caress them. Our lips keep meeting as he’s standing above me, I try to breathe between kisses. His tongue touches mine. I can’t help but whimper. The humid noises escaping our exchange are making me feel funny. I can’t stop. I feel him all around me, everything that my legs touch, my arms, everything my ears hear, my nostril smell. Everything loops back to him. 

I’m still cold but his arms wrapped around my waist and his torso crushing my chest are the reason I'm sinking into this burning bubble, leaving me sweating, craving more. I don’t know how but Josh –who was wallowing on the windows a few minutes ago, warms me. His nose blows against my skin. He growls and kisses my lips. 

When I suddenly get a grip on his neck and open my eyes, I hear the door of the bedroom creaking. Josh appears lost, gets away from me.

"Joshua ? We’re not interrupting anything ?” says a voice.

We turn our head, jump out of surprise. 

“Beth ? Hannah ?” 

Josh breaks away from me to get off the bed, swallowing with embarrassment. I can’t blame him. At the same time his sisters enter the room, both of them have a blanket on their shoulders and are holding bowls of food. Shaken up, I pull a strand of my hair behind my ear then clear my throat. It’s not enough to make the knot I feel there disappear though. 

“What are you- why are you not asleep yet, hum ?” asks Josh. 

“It’s too early.” declares Beth. 

“We wanted to watch a movie. Are you guys coming ?” says Hannah. 

Sitting cross-legged, I wave my hand at them, to which they enthusiastically respond. Hannah smiles at me. 

“We were-” Josh looks at me. “We were a bit busy.” 

"You’ll have all the time in the world to make out later, come on ! We’re going to put a horror movie and we’re too scared to watch it alone.” 

“You have to protect us !” insists Hannah. 

Josh needs nothing less to be convinced, I already know it because he’d never dare say no to his sisters, they are way too precious to him. But the way he stares at me makes me understand he’s afraid I’ll be frustrated. He knows I've been waiting for this. Waiting to get my hands on him. Despite the affection I have for my two friends, I have not come in this desolated place to not enjoy some alone-time with my boyfriend. The whole year, I thought about it. With our studies, our parents, we barely had the time to hang out. This night was supposed to fix it.

Unfortunately, I think I will have to wait a bit more. 

My feet fall onto the ground as I get up and get closer to my boyfriend. He seems out of space, looking at me with big eyes, I don’t know if he’s still with us. However, the moment I take his hand into mine, he comes back to us. 

“Let’s go, Josh.” 

He frowns his eyebrows. 

“You sure ?” he asks. 

“Mhh. Your sisters are waiting, come on.” 

He moves effortlessly, I just have to pull him a little to make him follow Beth and Hannah. They keep the door open for us, giggling happily, I smile back at them. Leaving without us, I hear them rushing to the corridor, almost running down the stairs leading to the living room. Beth yells, her sister laughs. Their enthusiasm warms my heart, I truly didn’t have the heart to ask Josh to stay with me, they are way too adorable. I also believe that since we are not alone, it would be incredibly foolish to stay on our own the whole time we’re here. 

Hannah and Beth would’ve understood. They know Josh and I are together –it's been a few years since; I can’t remember what was my life before him- they wouldn’t have minded. It won’t be the last time we leave a place to make love. Nevertheless, it’s not something I like to do; keeping their big brother away from them. Not while knowing he would move heaven and earth for them. I would rather please them and wait a little bit, it’s not like Josh is going to disappear : we have the rest of our lives to make out et have fun under the sheets. I’m not saying it’s not bothering me –of course it is, but I know what choice to make under such circumstances. We will still spend the night together, it’s a win-win situation.

I glue myself to Josh, look up to him. It's hard to see his face when it’s so dark in the house, but I can feel his fingers tightening around mine and his body heat caressing my skin. He’s here, he’s letting me know. 

“I can’t believe I missed the best sex of my life.” he curses, makes me laugh. 

"The best ?” 

"Babe, I promise I had a feeling. Have you seen me ? I even put this little ambiance, made you warm up real’ good.” 

“Dumbass, it was just a window...” 

“Ah ha,” he cuts me. “I saw how you reacted, you’ve never done this before, you can’t lie to me.” 

“What ? You think you’re getting better or something ?” 

"I think...? I am !” 

Rolling my eyes, I hit his chest. 

“Don’t be too full of yourself, it’s been a long time since we last saw each other.” 

"And ? Doesn’t mean what I did was for nothing. You would be surprised to see what a little attention to detail can do.” 

"You learned that in a porno ?” I asked curiously, about to scoff but still with a mocking smile on my lips. 

"Ah ha, very funny, babe.” 

Josh kisses my cheek. 

“You’re the only girl I want to see finish. I tested a theory which came true, that’s all.” 

“That’s actually so sweet I could almost think it was a compliment.” 

We arrive at the stairs. Just like Hannah and Beth did previously, we go down them. From here I can see the light of the television, and hear my friends bickering about what film they want to see, I believe they can’t pick between two films. 

Josh pulls my hand. I stop walking. 

It’s sweet, the way he draws me towards him, pressing me in the center of his arms. I melt under his touch. His body against mine, his beautiful dark eyes fulling staring at me. The natural light going through the shutters make one part of his face glow with a blueish tone, the rest is black, but it’s enough for me. I know every part of him. Spiritually, physically, I don’t need light to find him. It’s hard to believe. That all of this is real, I mean. This universe is big, I’m somebody among billions of other beings, but it’s still given to me. I'm lucky enough to be with the person that I love, to be loved in return and to enjoy fully all of this, I become aware of this the moment his skin encounters mine. Like a strike of lightning. It's too good to be true. Josh and me... It’s.. It's everything I've dreamt of. He’s with me, touching me, caressing me, kissing me. His lips encounter my cheek again as he’s leaning over me. 

I don’t know why he stopped us here, between the two stairs. He suddenly took me in his arms and is now leaving kisses all over my face. Coming from him, it’s almost too sweet. 

It’s only when he reaches my mouth that he dares to stop. He doesn’t go anywhere else. 

Josh kisses me with passion. 

Our lips meet, touch each other with such fondness, our saliva becomes one. While his hands are wrapped around my waist, mine are all over his face. I’m holding him. Eyes closes, I’m holding his head, savouring the taste of him. It’s not enough to satiate my thirst of him, but I can satisfy myself with this. 

The moment we break away from each other and our forehead comes in contact, I can’t help but giggle. 

“What’s so funny ?” asks Josh out of breath. 

I put my hands on his chest. 

Embarrassed, I look away. 

"Nothing... I’m starting to regret saying yes to your sisters, that’s all.” 

My heart is painful. It beats too fast. My stomach feels heavy. 

"Too late now, if we change our mind and go back I’m pretty sure Hannah will kill the both of us.” he jokes. 

"You think ?” 

"Wouldn’t be the first time she tried. Remember last Halloween when we slipped away ?” 

"Oh no... don’t remind me. Sam had to come save us.” 

Josh laughs. He touches slowly the top of my head before taking a step back. He is so pretty... I want to kiss him. I don’t even want to move. 

I’m fine here. 

Perfectly fine. 

“Josh, I-” 

I need to tell him those three words. However, I can’t, lost into his eyes, his gaze takes away every single word in my mouth. I hold onto him. Losing control. 

“You’re so regretting saying yes right now.” he mocks me. 

I’m suffocating. It’s hot. 

My body is still freezing. 

“Shut up.” I grumble. 

"Admit it, babe.” 

His snarky smile leaves me weak. With the palm of my hand I smack his chest and glare at him. He’s being real' annoying right now... Once he’s started, I fear nothing can stop him. 

"You love me so much you can’t spend five minutes without drooling all over me.” 

“Ah ! Says the one who kissed me. Between the two of us you’re worse.” 

“Me ?” he takes offense. 

I grab his hand, force him to walk. He’s shaking me up, I can’t look into his eyes any longer. 

"You literally begged me to go upstairs to f- ouch ! Did you just pinch me ?” 

"I said shut up.” I reply with a smirk. 

"You become violent when we don’t have sex ? That’s new.” 

Josh gets closer to me, I jump at the feeling of his lips brushing over my neck. He then whispers into my ear : 

"Looks like I'm going to have to fix this.” 

"Will you- Will you move...?” 

I try to get away from him but he’s not letting go of my hand. It ties me to him. I try to get it back but Josh is faster and grabs it again, he then intermingle our fingers and laughs. 

"Are you mad ? Come on, it was just a joke.” 

We continue our path down the stairs while still arguing, even after reaching the living room where Hannah and Beth are seated. One on the couch and the other on an armchair. Hannah waves her hand at us and points us to her sister who glares in our direction. I push Josh with a hit from my elbow, let him growl, and suffer on his own to get closer to his sisters. 

"Are you guys alright ?” asks Beth, worried. 

"Of course ! Why wouldn’t we ?” 

Between two whimpers of pain, Josh raises his thumb. 

"Everything’s good.” 

"See ? Everything’s good, he said.” I add. 

Hannah giggles. 

“You’re the worst.” 

“Come on, Joshua, you’re making your sisters wait, we gotta go, let’s go !” 

With all the strength in the world, I grab his wrist and bring him over. Josh keeps a hold on his stomach with his other hand, where I very gently hit him. He doesn’t fight me. He lets me install him on the couch, I go grab us a blanket, knowing it’s cold as winter in the living room, and come back to him in order to find a place in his arms. I’m almost jumping into him. It’s not the night I've dreamt of for the past few weeks but the idea of spending three hours into Josh’s arms doesn’t seems that bad to be honest, even if we’re not doing anything. My boyfriend receives me into his hands and snakes his arms around me, he says nothing the moment I cover mostly myself with the blanket. I even dare to bend my legs and put them over his thighs. 

“Are you comfortable, is it okay ?” says Hannah, the tv remote in her hand. 

"Amazing.” answers Josh, fully crushed, my arms around his neck. 

"What a fool..” says Beth, rolling her eyes. 

Hannah clicks on a bouton and the screens turns white, I hold my breath. 

Josh and his sisters are immediately getting into the movie, as for me, I have to get used to this scene. Not only this room or the house, but the Washington and the mere fact that this weekend will stay engraved in my memories for the next few years. Nobody moves. I look at them one by one. When comes my boyfriend’s turn, I can’t help but melt; my lips turn into a smile and my gaze softens. I touch the extremity of his jawline, then let my head rest against his : it’s not very comfy. I’m sure I won’t take me long before I start stretching out and find another position, but for now it’s all I want. Being close to Josh, it’s all I crave. 

From the corner of my eye, I see something. Something is moving. 

“Mhh ?” 

I almost stand up. 

What was that ? 

“Mhh ? What ?” worries Josh. 

He brings me closer to him, his head raised in my direction. 

“What ?” 

“What’s up ?” he whispers. 

I sit back. 

“Must’ve been my imagination, sorry.” I respond. 

Beth hits the armrest. 

“Shush !” 

Josh and I look at each other, I can’t help but smile. To be scolded like this is rather funny. Josh hugs me. He leaves me enough time to move to find a more comfortable spot while returning his attention to the TV. Having nothing else to do, I do the same. I squeeze my head on his shoulder, intoxicated by his presence, and observe the same thing as my three friends. From time-to-time, Beth and Hannah share their food with us, make the bowls pass from one person to another –pop-corn, chips- the movie is sprinkled with noises of chewing, small screams. And, sometimes, kisses. It’s perfect. Everything’s perfect. 

[007reid]

u have absolutely no idea what 'coffee caramels' did to me omg 😭 u write spencer and his mannerisms so WELL hsbsghdbdh so i come to u with a lil request if that's okay with u !!

spencer insists on playing pretend-doctor for reader who's sick (but denying it) so he invokes his technically-a-doctor card and gives his second opinion just to take care of reader n smother them w looooove

essentially just him teasing y/n and being the stupid Cute attentive nerd he is <3

(inspired by S5E3 where he gets stuck at the bau w garcia bc he was being stubborn abt his injury)

i am never ever Normal abt this guy 😞 i look forward to reading more of ur work and losing my mind over reid with u, aine !! mwa

hiii tysm for requesting, youre so fucking sweet!! <33 drop an emoji to let me know who you are and let’s loose our mind over our fav boy together anon!!!! also sorry this took so long, i wrote like 3k but then hated it so i started over, i love this prompt sm so i feel like i had to do it justice.

pspspsp i love s5 spence so fucking much... his hair went from beautiful to ethereal to mad sexy...s5 treated us well. requests are ALWAYS appreciated !!!!!!

soup. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k

you've been off it for so long, dodging virus after virus and disease after disease and just right when you thought that you are immune to sickness, you caught it. the inevitable fever.

there was no denying it, you've tried. after getting a headache, you popped a tylenol before you went to sleep, nonchalant. the next morning was when reality really came crashing down. a sore throat.

it progressively got worse throughout the day, and when you came crashing into bed after a long day at work, your nose was feeling stuffy and your were coughing, spewing sickness everywhere you went. you woke up in the middle of night sweating like you had just ran a fucking marathon and only able to breathe through one nostril unless you shift your body entirely.

you did not take to these news well. firmly in denial, you still planned to show up to work the next day.

except you didn't show up to work. sickly and delirious, the part when you press snooze then snooze again slip your mind and at one point you must've turn off your alarm entirely. drifting in and out of consciousness and slipping into dream after dream, it gets harder to tell what is real and what is not.

"y/n? y/n!"

now, it is very probable that the voice isn’t actually real, because why the hell would you be hearing spencer reid’s voice outside of work? the chances are slim to none, and despite the heat pounding at your skull you manage to smile. there is something unexplainably comforting about spencer’s voice, soft and deliberate. it would be foolish to say that under the mad spell he’d cast on you (him simply saying two words) he’s managed to melt away your headache, because he didn’t. you still feel like shit.

“y/n?”

you frown, the voice sounding too insistent and real and not matching up with the visuals of your dream. you feel a tapping on your shoulder and when you blink your eyes open you could’ve screamed.

you jump up and then backwards, huddling your blanket with you, scared for your life. because right in front of you is perhaps the most intimidating creature on the earth; spencer reid in a purple sweater vest with his face so close to yours he could breathe in your sickness, hair tucked carefully behind his ear.

“spencer?” you ask incredulously, but instead your voice comes out a rasp. you clear your throat, feeling something warm creep up your cheek. it might be a blush, but you blame it on the chills. you keep blinking, trying to regain your vision and feel instantaneous embarrassment. you look a mess, sick and dehydrated with dry lips and bad hair and you probably reek of morning breath. and spencer’s there, looking like heaven’s finest angel, smiling at you like he’s smiling at a person and not a monster. spencer has the tendency to treat and look at everyone like they’re the love of his life. you sort of hate it.

“hi y/n,” he breathes, crouching down on the floor before you on the bed. “i—“

“what are you doing here?” you’re too impatient to wait, still in shock.

now. you try not to make it obvious that you have a mad crush on spencer, because if the fact were to spill, you’re not eager cleaning up the consequences. it’s an unestablished, unspoken rule that should be common sense that no workplace dating will be allowed and usually it’s a ridiculous rule, because who the hell would want to date their coworker, like actually? work crushes are normal but they exist only in a part of your day, an eye-candy for you to stare at to get through the day, then you go home or go out and forget about them. who actually has serious work crushes, actually? actually? it’s ridiculous.

your defense is completely solid, you’d say. your number one defense is you can’t help the fact that you and spencer were meant to be friends. the moment you joined the team, you and spencer clicked together like two lego pieces, despite your clashing personalities. you find it refreshing to have someone like spencer, someone who’s soft and sweet but cunning and resourceful but thoughtful and kind, and it was equally refreshing for spencer to have someone blunt and straightforward but still patient enough to put up with him.

spencer doesn’t like physical touch but ever since your first week he made you the exception and if you could, you would parade the privilege around like a badge. what can you say, you’re proud to be spencer’s little exception, anyone would be. he makes you feel special, differently than the others do and what’s a girl to do? to have that great of a relationship with a coworker and not be work spouses and not be actually head over heels with the guy? how laughable.

it’s not something you’re proud of, however. you know it’s a lost cause, chasing after spencer. it hurts, sometimes, but you always patted yourself on the back with an ‘it is what it is.’ spencer, as sweet and vulnerable as he is, has layers behind his thinly veiled heart. he talks a lot but he never talks about himself and he never talks about the past so he doesn’t have to revive it, so all the memories are just wounds left out and neglected to burn. spencer’s trouble, definitely trouble, but it’s hard to be aware of the workload that spencer reid is when he’s rambling to you about something as innocent as halloween or knocking his knuckles on your knee during a flight trying to get your attention.

spencer blinks sheepishly, settling criss cross apple sauce on the ground, lanky legs twisting uncomfortably. “you didn’t come into work and you didn’t answer your phone,” he explains. “emily told me to go check on you.”

you nod. he’s here because emily told him to. it makes a lot more sense now. “i’ll head in the office now,” you say, making your way out of bed, wiping at your eyes. “sorry—“

“no you’re not,” spencer says immediately, not even hesitating. he places a hand on your upper chest, pressing you back down on the bed. the butterflies at the pit of your stomach throws a fit. you know he means nothing by the action—has spencer reid ever been the one knowledgeable about romance?—but knowing that doesn’t help the heat that spread up your cheeks that’s definitely not from the sickness. “you’re burning up,” he says. “i’ll get you some water. you should clean up,” he says, uncrossing his legs difficultly and then stumbling out the room, mismatched socks slipping on the hardwood floor.

you take advantage of the time that spencer’s not there and race to the bathroom, ignoring the blackout and the dizziness that threatens to make you faint from getting up too abruptly. you squirt some toothpaste onto your toothbrush and by the time you exit the bathroom, spencer is already there, waiting, except he’s by your desk, hands on a book.

typical.

he perks up when he hears your footsteps pad into the room, turning around, looking like a child who’s been caught with your book in his hands. you smile at him, albeit it’s a pathetic smile. you feel dizzy.

“you like toni morrison?”

“i love toni morrison,” spencer chirps, excitement bouncing all over his face. “especially her masterwork, beloved,” he looks back down at your red copy admiringly then sets it down. "get back in bed," he says, and you can't wrap your hand around how ridiculous the situation is. your coworker, or work crush, is at your house, checking your temperature and shooing you to bed to rest. "i bought you soup so you can eat up, i--"

“you bought me soup?” you ask, incredulous. spencer nods seriously.

“it's proven that eating soup makes people feel better, not just some stereotype. the right amount of sodium can help help relieve sore throat pains and the vitamins and minerals found in soup can play a very large part in recovery...i had a feeling you were going to be sick, it’s the weather, you know? everyone is catching the cold. you need to eat it before it gets cold, the heat helps with nasal digestion and also sinus pressure and it'll be useless if you ate it lukewarm...i’ll be right back…” and with the babbling his voice fades out as he walks back out to the living room, leaving you alone standing on the side of your bed. you look at the forgotten copy of beloved set carefully back onto your desk, smiling to yourself slightly before climbing back into bed, because spencer says so and spencer’s always right but mostly because your legs feel like they’re going to give out.

spencer is speedy, striding several steps at once with his ridiculously long legs that looks unnaturally lanky but once he reaches your room again, soup and spoon in hand you were already nodding off, head lolling and eyes slipping shut. spencer stops at your bed stand, thinking to himself for a second before balancing the plastic bowl of soup on one hand and using the other to gently nudge at your face, waking you up. he grimaces when he feels that your skin burns to the touch, a bright tint to your cheeks that he hates himself for liking because you're sick, he shouldn't be thinking that you're pretty or stuff like that.

spencer waves the thought away, determined to focus on his mission. deliver soup, make sure you're okay, and send his farewells. that's what emily told him to do, and even though derek added a "kiss her goodnight too, loverboy!" he's only going to listen to emily, because emily knows best.

yes. perfect. that's exactly what he's going to do.

"hey," he whispers, caressing his thumb across the lightly purple patch under your eye, frowning to himself. you haven't been getting good enough sleep, and he feels guiltier for waking you up, but then straightens himself up resolutely--no. emily said the soup must be delivered and consumed--just to melt again when your eyes flutter open, confused and traces of sleep still floating around your facial expression. "sorry," he mumbles, feeling oddly embarrassed. "it's just--i mean, you don't have to, jus' want you to eat something before you sleep again."

you sit up slowly, and once you're fully awake again, the smell of the soup hits you like a bucket of ice and you suddenly feel your mouth watering. you feel like a princess, sitting there with your hands crossed in your lap while you wait for spencer to unwrap the plastic utensils and tissues from its clear packaging, carefully opening up the lid of the soup on the night stand and hot steam floats around the room, engulfing both you and spencer in a bubble of tomato soup.

spencer, a planner that he is, didn't let you eat directly from the plastic take-out bowl from the restaurant and had rummaged through your kitchen for a bowl and pours half the soup into the ceramic, no spillage and perfectly clean. then he hands the soup to you, and you eat.

to say that spencer is concerned is to say the least. you're a profiler, and you're trained to pick up on this sort of thing but you only need to be a child with an undeveloped brain to work out that spencer's worried, watching your every move and monitoring that you eat enough, the crease in his brows deepen whenever you set the bowl down so you pick it up again and stuff two more spoonfuls in your mouth, to hopefully make him worry less.

the silence is awkward, the only sounds in the room is you biting down on the spoon occasionally as you drink your soup and spencer watching intently, hands on his chin and unaware of his staring problem. you and spencer rarely has these kind of silences, the silences where you scramble for things to say because the atmosphere would always be too comfortable. you sneak glances at him as you eat. since spencer's completely oblivious to the heaviness of the silence, you feel it's up to you to break it.

"i'll clock in once i'm finish eating this, don't worry," you say, trying your best to sound reassuring as you try to choke back a spoonful of soup too big. you lick your lips, and spencer is biting his, a bad habit.

"no you're not, y/n," he says, exasperated. normally, when spencer uses his 'i'm right so you should listen to me' tone like this, it means he's geared for an argument and you would be happy to challenge him, but now you can't find the energy for it. yet you muster enough up anyway.

"i'm only a bit shaken up 'cause of the weather," you say, trying to sound as convincing as possible, still in the calm before the storm of the bicker. "'m not immobile. and i already used up all my off days visiting my family--"

spencer, however, didn't bother for the peaceful offering. "you're not coming in today, y/n," he says, and he sounds a bit anxious but you know his true intent. his eyes are mirthful with confidence, and he knows he's already won the argument. despite the buzzing in your ears and the fuzziness in your brain, you can't let the bastard win. you can't.

“i can’t miss anymore days spencer, and i won’t,” you say coldly, but you slurping on the soup hungrily like it’s your last day on earth sort of ruined your cool facade. “i’m not too sick, either, it’ll be useless for me to stay home—“

spencer reaches to press his palm against your forehead, his skin cold to the touch. you close your eyes instinctively.

“you’re burning up,” he announces. “means your sick. you’re not coming in today, y/n.”

“says who?” you say defensively, feeling a bit like you’re loosing.

“says me,” spencer says cooly, cheeky smile at his lips. you should hate it more than you do. “who’s a doctor.”

you scoff. “so now you’re an actual doctor? you got a medical phd on you?”

“i have a bachelor in medicine and enough doctorates to make me slightly knowledgeable in every field,” spencer quips and you didn’t even know that he had a bachelor in medicine. how many fucking degrees does this guy even have on his resume?

“whatever,” you grumble, sounding a lot like someone who’s just got defeated. you set the bowl of soup down on the nightstand and spencer hands you a bottled water before you could think about needing water. you pluck it from his offering hands, muttering a “thanks” under your breath.

spencer laughs quietly, watching you drink patiently and putting the cap back on when you hand him back the bottle, setting it next to your soup. you feel ridiculously babied and your cheeks burn with the guilt you feel. you’re talking him off his office hours just to be here and feed you stuff and make sure you’re taking care of yourself.

spencer, the 24/7 profiler, notices. "is something wrong?" he asks innocently, round eyes blinking and oblivious. bless him. "you got redder. is it too hot? i can adjust the a/c."

“fine,” you mumble, still a little embarrassed with your realization. “little cold, actually.”

“it's the chills from your fever,” spencer informs you. “i…” he pauses, frowning again, frustrated from not being able to finish his thought. he abandons it. “do you need anything else?”

“no spence,” you laugh sort of pathetically, throat strained. “you’ve been an angel already. you can go back to the office, if you want.”

spencer thinks back to what emily had told him. soup. make sure she’s ok. leave. he’s done the past two steps. it’s time he completes his mission.

but…

“are you sure?” he prods, a little bit of him hoping that you'd say no. he doesn't know what it is; something bothering him, making him dread leaving.

you didn't get the cue. "mhmm," you shoot him a reassuring smile. as reassuring as you can manage, anyway, grimacing at the insistent throb in your head. spencer gnaws on his bottom lip, indecisive. you don't know what he was deciding between.

whatever battle it was, he wraps it up quick. "okay," he repeats. "i'll get back."

"you do that."

"remember to drink water."

"i will."

"do you need me to bring you more?"

"i'm okay."

"okay."

"okay."

the conversation feels incomplete and spencer isn't interested to complete it, booting out the door, except he lingers for a bit and awkwardly turns around, hand on the frame. you are already looking at him when he looks at you.

you and spencer are never this awkward, never this hesitant and strange. the tension that suffocates your room feels like signature first-date-tension, the kind of nervous excitement and tip-toeing blind lovers and uncertainty.

"are you sure?"

i'd rather you stay. you push the response away. "i am."

"you have medicine right?"

you do have medicine. for a brief moment, you want to lie about it; want to say that you ran out this morning and then he would run to the store for you and return and then spend more time in your insufferable, sickly presence. you brush the thought away within a second. never in a million years do you want to bother spencer, especially not with a thing as selfish as that. maybe it's because of your biased vision but spencer is looking like he's desperate to leave, practically screaming for outlet at the door. it's time you let him go and indulge in the worst sleep you'll ever have.

"yeah," you say, clearing your throat. "i do."

"okay," spencer says. "i'll go."

"thanks," you add awkwardly. "for the soup. and for coming."

"'course" spencer says absentmindedly, lingering at the door frame but not looking at you in particular, not looking at anything. he snaps back and sends you a wave. spencer has a power to him where everything he does looks unplanned, like he's doing it against his own will.

he leaves. if you had change your mind and ask for him to come back, for him to stay, he would've. no hesitation. but you didn't, and he wiggles back in his broken in converses and return back to the bau with no elevator partner.

maybe another day.

a/n: sorry for the ending, this was getting too long so i had to cut it short 😓😓but i think it's kinda fitting! lmk if you guys want a part 2 <3

[jossamology]

josssam headcanons. (part two)

❝ i thought we had a connection 𓈒　 　𓈒　　❞ sam giddings + josh washington this is part 2 of jossam headcannons, enjoy! x

josh pretending he’s not listening to sam’s ramblings, but he could recite every word back to her—her voice has become his favorite sound.

late-night confessions over text, josh sending her random deep thoughts at 3 am because sam is the only one he trusts with the parts of himself that he hides from everyone else.

falling asleep on the phone together, neither wanting to hang up first, so they just listen to each other breathing until they drift off, a silent comfort in the connection.

rainy days spent together indoors, sam curled up with a book and josh quietly sketching in the corner—neither of them needing to speak, the silence filled with unspoken understanding.

late-night gaming sessions where josh lets sam win (but never admits it), just to see the way her face lights up in victory.

josh calling sam his “wolf in sheep’s clothing” because she’s sweet on the outside but tougher than anyone realizes, and that strength is what draws him to her.

josh doodling on sam’s notebooks during class, little sketches of things that remind him of her—stars, wolves, and her favorite flowers.

autumn walks in oversized coats, sam tucked into josh’s side, their breath visible in the crisp air, but the warmth between them enough to keep the chill away.

josh never really liked rom-coms. he'd grumble and complain every time sam picked one, claiming he was more of a horror guy. but deep down, he always caved. he’d sit beside her, arms crossed at first, but slowly he’d relax, sneaking glances at her instead of the screen, watching the way her eyes lit up during her favorite scenes. and even though he pretended not to care, he secretly took mental notes of every movie she loved. later, when she wasn’t around, he’d rewatch them alone—just so he could memorize the parts that made her laugh or the moments that made her smile. it wasn’t about the movies for him; it was about knowing her better.

josh writing unsent letters to sam, pouring out all the things he’s too afraid to say out loud—how she makes him feel grounded in a way no one else can.

coffee shop hangouts, where sam orders something sweet and josh sticks to his bitter brew, always stealing a taste of hers just to make her roll her eyes at him.

camping trips where josh insists on building the fire, even though sam teases him that he’s “a city boy”—he just likes the way she laughs when she catches him struggling.

josh making playlists for sam but never sending them, just listening to the songs that remind him of her on repeat, wondering if she would feel the same if she knew.

josh and sam dancing in the living room was a rare sight. sam wasn’t much of a dancer, but when josh got a little too drunk, it was one of his favorite things to do. he’d stumble toward her, that familiar playful grin on his face, and pull her up from the couch. she’d protest at first, laughing, but she never resisted for long. josh would wrap his arms around her, moving clumsily but with surprising grace, using the slow dancing skills he’d picked up from his sister’s birthday parties. sam would rest her head against his chest, swaying gently to whatever song was playing, not caring about the missed steps or how offbeat they were. in those moments, it didn’t matter—he held her like she was the most important thing in his world, and somehow, despite her awkwardness, it always felt perfect.

josh confiding in sam about his darkest fears, trusting her with the pieces of himself he doesn’t show anyone else, her reassuring presence grounding him when he feels like he’s losing control.

sometimes, josh quietly feared that one day, sam would find someone better. he did everything he could to keep her close, always going the extra mile, because in his eyes, she belonged with him. he couldn’t imagine her with anyone else—she was his world, and he hoped, with every part of him, that he was hers too

[leftshoeuntied]

quick lil dark soap x reader idea

tw: home invasion/phrogging, allusion to voyeurism, no actual violence depicted

That’s just the wood settling in the stairs, right? You left the light on in the upstairs bathroom, just as your mom had taught you, so people would know there was someone home, and so they wouldn’t be dumb enough to break in to a house that wasn’t empty, right?

It’s an old house, the wood is bound to creak as it settles, and it’s windy outside tonight, that’s why there’s creaks in the empty attic, right?

Your toes are tucked under the blanket, and the door to your room is shut tightly and the blanket pulled to your chin, prepared to hide under the blanket if needed. Your chest feels heavy and you can feel your heartbeat in your throat, but you’re trying everything to focus on the real housewives fighting on your television across the room. Between the catty tones and the drone of your fan in the window, you let the sounds lull you into a sense of comfort and you brain finally begins to listen to your earlier reasoning.

You’ve lived alone long enough to be used to nights like this, there’s nothing to be afraid of. You’re too old to be afraid of thunder and lighting, the sounds above your heard are just the sounds of branches hitting the roof. You’ve experienced your fair share of stormy nights, it’s just the wind.

Right?

The next morning you wake to the stream of sunlight coming through your window, not remembering when you had finally fallen asleep, but at least thankful that you did. Stepping out of your bed and into a pair of sweatpants, you grab a sweatshirt on the way out of your room, prepared to go outside and check for damage the storm might’ve left for you. As you pull the sweater over your head, you don’t notice the light to the bathroom had already been turned off.

Stepping into your boots, you open the front door, and covering your eyes from the blinding sunlight as you schlep down the front stairs.

“Good morning, bonnie”

You hear from your right, looking over you see your neighbor John smiling down on you from his elevated lawn.

“Good morning, John, how’d the storm hit you last night?” You ask him with your hand still covering your eyes from the sun.

“Eh, nothing bad over here hen, how about you?”

“Inside was fine, thankfully didn’t lose power, but the branches were so loud on my roof last night, sounded like someone was right above me, it was crazy” you say with a chuckle, pretending like it didn’t downright scare you. “Might have to get up on a ladder sometime today and make sure there’s no damage up there.”

“Ach, I’m not letting you up there bonnie, let me get my ladder, I can go up there and check it out for you.”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Aye, it’s no worries, looks like you’ve got some fallen branches in the backyard. I’ll let you handle those, and I can go up to the roof,” John says with finality towards you, but the same smile pointed down at you “let me look out for you hen, yeah?”

You smile and nodded back at him, even though you know he wasn’t leaving much of a choice. “Thanks John.”

---

A couple of days later you woke up with a stretch and a groan, noticing that your room had a more noticeable chill to it than normal. When you opened your eyes, you noticed that the door to your bedroom was left open. Huh? You pause. You always shut your door before you go to bed, never having been able to sleep with the door to your bedroom open before. 

You did sleep with the window open last night and the fan on in the window, the wind could’ve picked up last night, creating a wind tunnel that pulled the door open, you try to reason with yourself. That has happened to you before while you’ve been in your room doing chores, only when you don’t fully shut the door, you brain reminds you, and you always fully shut your door before bed, double and triple checking. 

You try not think anything of it, the fan in the open window giving you enough reason to believe that wind must’ve picked up last night and the change in pressure must’ve pulled the door open last night, even if the storm y weather had already moved through the area a couple of days prior.

It wasn’t until you were at your dresser applying skincare, after washing your face, that you notice something is off from your normal tray of items. Your favorite purple lighter is missing from next to your candle, hm, you huff in confusion trying to remember where you might’ve taken it. It’s probably just in the living room, you think, you have other lighters down there with your other candle, but this purple was easier to use since you had pulled of the safety, so it makes sense you would’ve moved it, you reason.

---

“Thank you again John for helping me get this old freezer out of the basement” you say stepping down the basement steps looking over your shoulder to John, him falling in behind you, matching your steps and smile.

“Aye no worries, hen. I meant it when I told you I’d look out for you, whatever you need.”

You step off the steps into the finished basement looking over at John and saying “I really do appreciate it though” John just smiles and waves you off like it’s no big deal, so you continue “I unplugged it a couple of days ago, so hopefully that means all of the ice has melted” as you open and step through the door into the unfinished side of the basement. 

You stop though, caught off guard by what you see. “Everything alright bonnie?” You hear John ask behind you. 

“Yeah” you pause but John can hear the apprehension in your voice “I just…I swear I left the board in front of that door”. You say as you walk over the walk over to the door leading to the outside, and noticing that the plank of wood that normally lays in the metal arms across the door, is just leaning up against the wall to the side of the door instead. But the glass window in the door hasn’t been broken, someone couldn’t have removed it from the outside, so “I must’ve just forgotten to put it back up last time I was down here” right?

“Ah” John pauses “that makes sense, hen, you were just doing yard work back there the other day, probably forgot to put it back up then.”

---

Your brain was still hung up on trying to remember if you had gone through the basement door when working on the backyard at the beginning of the week, but you swear you went through the front door on the main floor and walked around instead. John had helped you bring the old freezer out the other day, and afterwards made sure to remind you to put the board back across the door this time, like it was a small joke now. You appreciated him for trying to help you lighten the situation, but it still weighed heavy on you, each of these weird things around the house on their own could be a coincidence, but together? It felt all too much.

Carrying your basket of laundry up the stairs to fold on your bed, you know your already anxious brain is on edge, scanning everything in sight. You tell yourself it’s so you can confirm nothing’s out of place, but part of you knows you are just looking for something to be outside of the norm to confirm your suspicions and unfortunately for you, you find something else. The string to the ladder leading up to your attic was tied into a loop, pulling between the hole in the door and then through the edge of the cutout back into the hatch on the ceiling. 

That’s not how you left it, you never tied the string, the previous owner had never tied it. Any other day you could’ve convinced yourself you had made the change, but with your limited time in the attic already and the basement door left without the board, the sight made your stomach drop.

Part of you was ready to walk into your bedroom, shut the door and fold your laundry like nothing happened, but something had happened. You drop the laundry basket, and reach for the string, pulling the hatch down slowly, scared something might jump out at you, but when met with silence you pulled the ladder fully down.

As you crawl up the ladder to your attic, not much stands out to you, letting your brain fall into a false sense of security. See? Your brain says to your anxiety. Nothings up here, you were freaked out for nothing. 

But your phone’s flashlight catches onto something in the corner. Rushing over there’s a small pile of miscellaneous items: a small flashlight, an old plastic water bottle that became a makeshift ashtray and an open pack of Marlboro Golds. But that’s not what scares you the most. Off to the side there’s a small hand-held drill, debris, and a small hole in the plywood, the same width as the drill bit. The hair on your arms stands up and you take a quick spin in the attic with your flashlight to make you are alone, before you lean down to look through the hole in the ground. You feel like you are going to be sick as you realize the pin size hole give you a perfect view of your bedroom. You sit back up on your knees, swallowing bile as you look around. A couple feet over there’s another small pile of debris, and a few feet over another pile, and then another a couple further from there. You get to your feet, sickness washing over you as you realize there’s small holes drilled into the plywood all throughout your attic’s floor board, giving viewership to each room in your room on your second floor. 

You pound on John’s door, hoping his car in the front driveway means he’s home, you don’t know where else you’d go right now if he wasn’t and you can’t see yourself going back int your house alone. John opens the door with a confused look, but smiles when he sees you there. “Bon-“he starts but you cut him off before he can get the term of endearment out.

“John, please I just need to talk someone right now, I thought I was going crazy but I think someone has been breaking into my house” John’s face drops at your startled state, pulling you through the door into his home

“Aye it’s not a problem hen, let’s get you settled, let me get you something to drink, tea alright?” You nod as John guides you to sit on his couch, rubbing your shoulders soothingly before stepping away into the kitchen.

“I feel crazy John, I don’t know what to do. There’s been all of these weird things happening around the house, and at first, I thought it was just weird coincidences, like things getting misplaced, the basement door being uncovered, doors being left open” you say as he emerges from the kitchen with a mug of tea for you, handing it to you with a soft smile as you lean back into his couch, trying to get comfortable, despite your racing heart and anxiety building in your stomach. John sits next to you, matching your body language. 

“What do you mean?” he asks leaning his head to the side, rubbing your shoulder soothingly as you take a sip of the tea.

“I don’t know,” you start again, your frustration and fear building, tears beginning to build along your eyeline “pieces of my laundry have been going missing, but I figured it was just my washer or dryer eating them. And then little things around the house have been going missing, like I don’t know where my favorite lighter is, which is so miniscule but I always leave it in my room” you heave out, the weight in your chest building as you finally begin to acknowledge the true depth of the situation. Someone in your home, in your room.

“And I know that all sounds stupid, but I noticed the string to the attic was messed up earlier, so I went up there and I- “

You pause, something on John’s coffee table catching your eye, and your stomach drops, unable to continue your train of thought. 

“And what bonnie?” John asks but then follows your line of site to the plate of items on his coffee table, not much standing out besides the purple lighter in tray that visibly had the safety pulled off. Your frozen in place, clutching to the mug, as you feel him turn to you, hum softly, place a hand of your knee, rubbing soothingly before saying 

“I said I’d look out for you hen.”

[wordstome]

I am having a goddamn nightmare of a time writing the university au (mostly because I have a shit ton of work to do…for my university…lol) so have some headcanons about the most toxic couple you’ve ever met. mdni under the cut

They’re like the definition of a situationship. They’re dating in every aspect except by name

At first she does try to sleep with other guys like she did before König but that doesn’t last long, because nobody else is as good as him. She will never admit this outside of the bedroom

Meanwhile he literally calls her his girlfriend behind her back

She’s emotionally unavailable toxic, he’s obsessive and possessive toxic

König enjoys the pursuit and just thinks it’s normal for women to be difficult like this. I would say “poor König” but he has a bad habit of picking her up and carrying her places against her will so he’s not that poor

She likes to tell herself she has no attachment to him, but she loves the ego boost he gives her by acting like a lovestruck puppy and following her everywhere. She’s also secretly into him being controlling

She does have her moments of genuinely caring about him, though. She brought him lunch once and he looked at her like she hung the moon the whole day. Her excuse was that she just happened to get/make an extra portion, but she did, in fact, get him a portion on purpose

She basically lives with him after a certain point. Her roommates barely see her anymore since she only comes and goes from her old place to get things. He constantly threatens to change the locks on her, but they both know it’s an empty threat. He much prefers to punish her in sexy ways

She'll just be minding her own business talking to a classmate or perhaps flirting with someone when König will come up behind her and put his arms around her. If she was just talking to someone she'll pat his face before attempting to shoo him off. If she was flirting with someone, she wrenches him off her and storms off in a huff (whoever she was talking to has definitely fled from König's evil eye by that point)

They don't really fight, they just have spats because König is endlessly amused by her anger and she is unable to stay mad at him for long. The one time they had a real fight was nasty, and they didn't talk for days afterwards

She's usually quite a chill, go with the flow person (because if she allowed herself too much stress or anxiety at once it would destroy her), but König brings out the spitfire in her

In equal measure, König is a bit of the shy and quiet giant type, but she brings out the brat tamer in him. They alternate balancing each other out

It's kind of easy to look at them and go "why are they still doing this to themselves" but when they get along (i.e. he's behaving himself and she's not pretending not to know him) they're as functional as any other couple

This definitely goes without saying: the nastiest most bed-breaking sex. They fuck like they’re trying to murder each other

I know it's a pet peeve of many people when they say the reader is ooooo so small and delicate next to the cod men, and I tend to agree. However, unless you are also nearly seven feet tall and built like an olympic swimmer, I'm just gonna say you're smaller than König

That being said, he LOVES using his size against her. Picking her up, bending her over things, bending her in half (mating press, his beloved)

If he wants her to stay, she'll stay. He'll have one hand on her throat pinning her down, the other keeping her open to slam into her

This brat will look him dead in the eye and ask "is that all you've got?", which obviously makes him lose his mind in the best way

She definitely has more experience than he does, which actually works out in his favor: him getting better at fucking really just means he's getting better at fucking her

They're so goddamn nasty they've definitely fucked in semi-public places because she teased him to the point of madness and he popped a boner so hard it was painful

Oh, the dirty talk. König is such a gentleman outside of the bedroom, but the degradation that comes out of him while he's fucking her is toe-curling. A lot of "nobody else can fuck you like this" and "all you're good for is taking me in your tight little hole"

He growls??? I don't know if y'all have heard his voicelines in German but he snarls at her when he's trying to teach her a lesson and it turns her into putty

This post is dedicated to @kneelingshadowsalome, who is waiting for this fic so patiently and is my shining beacon of motivation at this point lol

[typicalopposite]

Got an idea I will flesh out into a more coherent full length fic closer to Halloween BUT imagine with me if you will…

Buck wanting to go to this haunted house… attraction or the real deal whichever.. and he wrangles in the whole team. (Tommy, Eddie, Hen, and Chim)

They go and on the way they are listening to scary stories, and the three believers are sharing experiences and so hyped up… meanwhile Tommy and Eddie are like … 🙄🙃 yall are ridiculous gullible scaredy cats.

So they arrive at the place. (Let’s go with an attraction but it’s AT a supposedly haunted place) and the believers are screaming and running and swearing they see/hear/smell(?) things not part of the experience! They are having a blast but also scared out of their minds… and the whole time Tommy and Eddie are still 🙄🙃

They disprove all the “real” activity. They call out the cheesy fakeness of the actors/jump scares… and by the end Buck Hen and Chim are pouty from the two being party poopers (Chim’s words) and boring.

So…

Buck gets an idea… a way to really see if they are as brave and non-believing as they insist they are.

He finds a school… abandoned after the earthquake, but it had been claimed to be haunted even when it was open to students. It was built over a cemetery and was extremely eerie and supposedly super active; especially now that the ground was split open beneath it and the graves were disturbed.

“One night,” Buck proposes. “From sunset, to sunrise… you two last without experiencing anything, and we will stop giving you shit about being skeptics.”

Tommy rolls his eyes, says this is juvenile and probably illegal (what would Athena say). Eddie, on the other hand, leaps at the idea.. eager to prove these three wrong ONCE AND FOR ALL! “Come on, man!” Eddie all but begs. “Let’s show them how ridiculous they are always being!” Tommy teases it’s easy for Eddie to be so quick to prove them wrong… he doesn’t have to go home to one of them after… but he ultimately agrees.

So they go to the school. Some flashlights and snacks- Eddie brings his baseball bat incase any other people decide to get the same silly idea, and pose a threat. Buck reminds them: from sunset… to sunrise. They have their phones to call in case of absolute emergency… but if they try to leave before that for any other reason then they lose the bet.

Fast forward to a few hours in. They are bored and tired… and nothing has happened… until—until Tommy hears footsteps from somewhere in the school. He’d be lying if he said the sound coupled with the over all decrepitness of the old building didn’t send a chill through him. But because it could be some person with bad intentions— after all… real people are FAR scarier than pretend ghosts and goblins.

He hears it again— this time closer. Light tap tap tapping of footsteps coming down the hallway outside the room they are currently sitting in. “Hey… do you hear that?” he asks Eddie, who rolls his eyes and says it’s probably the others trying to scare them. He tells him to chill out. Tommy rolls his eyes at himself, thinking Eddie is probably right— that’s definitely something Buck and Chim would do… he’s not sure about Hen but he wouldn’t fully doubt it.

The night continues and Tommy doesn’t hear the footsteps again… for a while. They have wandered around a little and suddenly he hears them coming from behind them. Next to him, out of the corner of his eye he sees Eddie go still. They turn slowly and there is nothing behind them. No where for someone to have ducked down to hide either… and nothing to rationalize as the culprit for the footsteps. They (shakily) shrug it off and continue to explore the school.

There are pictures of the gravestones that were removed to make way for the foundation of the school. And plaques telling about spooky occurrences that have happened. Eddie scoffs saying they deserved to be haunted for disturbing a burial ground like that.

From down the hall a door slams shut. Both men jump, look at each other, then shine their lights towards the noise… it takes them a moment to decide whether it’s worth investigating, and ultimately decide if it’s the others… they don’t feel like listening to their teasing that they were to scared to check the noise out. So they make their way towards the room of the door that slammed, and Tommy reaches for the knob as Eddie readies his bat… just in case it’s NOT Buck, Chim, or Hen.

He pushes the door open and a breeze blows out, sending goosebumps all over Tommy’s body. He lifts his flashlight and shines it in the room… and it’s empty. He sticks his head in to be sure and yep… empty. Well— It’s empty minus a single red balloon floating ominously in the corner. He holds the light on it… Tries to make some sort of logical sense of it… asks Eddie what he thinks of it…

“I think I’m gonna kick those idiots asses come morning…” Eddie concludes, and lowers his bat, grabbing the door and pulling it shut. He walks off mumbling to himself about them needing to grow up, this being stupid… blah blah blah… and Tommy is about to turn and follow when the knob to the door slowly turns and it creaks open. Eddie stops and calls back to Tommy, asking what he’s doing.

“That— that wasn’t me…” Tommy says, shining his light at the door. Eddie walks back over and they watch as the door fully opens itself— both lift their lights and the balloon from the corner is now in the center of the room. They stare at it, and it sways forward— towards them. “Are— are you seeing this too?” Tommy asks.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah I see it. It’s— it’s just a draft, or— or something, yeah?”

“Yeah. Yeah yeah yeah… for sure.”

The balloon gently lurches forward again, now just on the other side of the open door. Tommy and Eddie— flashlights still aimed at the balloon— slowly back away from the door, down the hall to the point the rooms no longer visible. The school sits eerily silent, save for their staggered breathing. Then there’s a loud crash from somewhere behind them, causing both of them to turn. Theres nothing fallen over or broken… they turn back… and now the ballon is right infront of them.

~~~

Outside the school, Hen is shushing Buck and Chim who are in a fit of giggles as they pull dark hoods up over their pale and grotesque painted faces. “Shut up or you’re going to give us away!” She hisses, her phones camera aimed at the two as they sneak around the side of the school, creeping towards the entrance into the school so they can scare the shit out of the non believers.

The hear two loud terrified screams wail out from inside and watch as the schools doors are flung open, Tommy and Eddie running out and towards Eddie’s truck. One falls over his own feet grunting and groaning as he collides with the ground, one is possibly sobbing as he frantically tugs on the trucks door handle. And in less than five seconds they are loaded in and peeling off down the road away from the school… leaving Buck Chimney and Hen staring after them… extremely confused… but it doesn’t matter… because they won the bet.

👻👻👻👻👻

Idea sparked from THIS FANART omg it is GOLDEN!

Also inspired (the school on the graveyard and the balloon) from THIS TIKTOK that follows the same premise and is CREEPY AF! 🫶👻

[rascalentertainments]

Wish Granted AU: Flazino

Now the sorcerers' overworked, underappreciated, underpaid, incredibly tired apprentice, Flazino! I keep laughing at the fact that this guy has more depth to him than half the cast of the canon movie. 😂 He went from throwaway character to a nearly co-protagonist character with importance to the story!

His design was inspired by several Disney characters. The outfit and hair are a reference to Arthur/Wart from "The Sword in the Stone". The face and body language is based on George from the Paperman short film (Remember how great that was? And it mastered the 2D/3D hybrid animation long before Wish? What happened to those animators, Disney?)

(You can even use this concept art as reference for Flazino if you want too, especially that pissed off look 😂)

And I swear it wasn't on purpose, but as I started drawing him tired, he started resembling Bruno. All his references are from overworked or stressed out characters and I didn't even do it on purpose! 😂

Now for some backstory and info dump! This was pretty fun because I got to create my own take on him since there's practically nothing on him outside of a deleted scene.

• Like the aforementioned deleted scene, Flazino's wish is to study magic. For this story, its so he can help others lives be better, which is what he thought Magnifico wanted as well. He thought the job would be more glamorous or fun as he learned, but it turns out Mags doesn't actually want a successor. He plans on being in power permanently. He pretends he granted Flaz's wish and instead of studying magic, he's the errand boy, cleans the lab equipment, feeds Sabor, and is in charge of the tour guides for newcomers. Flazino just practices what he can at home and secretly takes ingredients from Amaya's potion cabinet.

•No one's sure if the bags under his eyes are from losing his wish and side effects starting, or its just him being stressed out all the time. Either way he's like Aled, he doesn't sleep much cause he's always working or worrying. He's sort of sassy when he's really tired so he might make an off hand comment. Bonus: He swears, but its censored in the "Spongebob Sailor Mouth" style. You'll just hear a noise or beep censorship sound in place of it. 😂 (Hey, you can say "Hell" and "Damn" in a Pixar movie now, so why not?)

•He gave his wish at 18, and was surprised to hear it was getting granted so soon. Though Mags doesn't really need an apprentice, he takes Flaz on just in case something happened to him, all of his magic, power and evil will go into the apprentice. Sort of passing on his plans to him to become the next Magnifico and continue his work. That's pretty terrifying.

�� Most people in the Hamlet think that he and Asha are secretly a thing, but that's not the case. Lord knows Sabino wanted his granddaughter to get a boyfriend so she'd stop being so serious all the time. They never really had feelings like that for each other, they just stayed friends. One part is because Asha has just sealed herself off from connecting deeper with other people, and on Flaz's side, he already has feelings for someone else. (Also, after Star shows up and spends time with Asha, she starts feeling things for him she's been repressing for years. Girl, chill.-)

• During the first few months of becoming the apprentice, he learned about the Hamlet through rumors in Rosas. He didn't understand why people would run away until he stumbles on seeing the king and queen crush the wishes of a couple who talked about leaving Rosas and not trusting the royals. He never saw that couple again.

He later took off one night into the forest to finds this supposed Hamlet using a tracking spell. Once he finds it, Sabino and other people tell him why they ran and what a monster the royal could be. Flazino felt so disgusted that he promised to help anyway he could. So he makes an excuse to get specialty mushroom from the Uncharted Forest once a month and brings supplies to the Hamlet ever since. (stuff like seeds to grow food, flour, medicine, toys for the kids)

• A lot of the people actually go to Flazino if they can't get to the king for help improving the kingdom, or people needing help. The royals don't do crap, so he just does the best he can himself. But most people don't realize he's the one that granting their needs and not the royals.

• His connection to the 7 Teens actually foreshadows Asha bringing them together. Like the deleted scene suggested, they all know him as the "great apprentice to the king", when he's really just a tired guy trying not lose his sanity. He has different interactions with each of them.

Gabo is the one shouting that the royals are evil like a conspiracy theorist, but since he's such a low threat, they send Flazino to get rid of him and everytime he gets away. Gabo's been a nuisance for months now and he's even defacing anything with the royals on it. He actually agrees with Gabo, but obviously can't say it out loud.

For Simon, he tries to keep him awake when he can for his knight training, or guard duty so its his way of trying to help fulfill his wish of being a knight. He's tired himself, so its even harder.

Safi is allergic to practically everything when he cleans, so Flaz has an idea to make a medicine that can cure that through magic. He has no idea its just so he can talk to the girl he likes without sneezing in someone's face. 😂

Hal is one of the easiest he gets along with. She's pretty content where she is and gets along with him fine. Though he gets roped into doing some of her work when he's not paying attention, lol. If she does see an injustice being done to someone else she'll step in to help them.

Bazeema he's not even sure what she thinks of him. She's so shy whenever he talks to her, all he knows is that she does a great job caring for the local animals and flora in the kingdom, which he's thanked her many times for. Though she has been leaving him yellow roses as thank you messages.

Dahlia is actually the one he bonds with the best. He ends up talking to her when its time for Sabor's breakfast or dinner and she makes the food by hand with her parents. At first he just talked to her out of convenience and vent a little bit about being overworked (much to his surprise, she's actually listening). Then the two of them just found some comfort in talking to each other when they've had a long day and now its developed into a full-on crush for him. But with Dahlia going all fangirl on Magnifico, he doesn't have high hopes the feelings mutual. (She's been dropping hints but he's not getting it)

So I guess we got three Flazinos right now: RFTS!Flaz who actually likes his job and still wants to learn magic, UaS!Flaz who's a prince of the evil royals, and then WG!Flaz is an overworked man who wants to hurt his bosses. Y'all need therapy. 😂

(So now, Chapter 6 of WG will be out tomorrow! 😏)

@signed-sapphire @oh-shtars @annymation @chillwildwave

@uva124 @ishadow246 @tumblingdownthefoxden @your-ne1ghbor

@mythartist21 @gracebethartacc @emptyblog7 @spectator-zee

@lazytitans-world @emillyverse @flicklikesstuff @kenihewa

@snackara @wings-of-sapphire @natsuki208

[cherriegyuu]

seventeen as songs from eternal sunshine (ag)

a/n: like usual, i'll be giving songs and lyrics to each of the members, as well as small plots based on those lyrics. i don't plan to write all of these, but they are still my ideas (as basic as some of them might be). so if you are interested in writing one of them, you can message me about it. if you want to read one of them you can send in as ask or dm and i'll add it to my writing list

• Seungcheol ➝ true story But I'll play whatever part you need me to And I'll be good in it, too ↳ seungcheol was willing to do anything for you, even if it meant destroying himself

• Jeonghan ➝ saturn returns Aha, it's time for you to get real about life and sort out who you really are  ↳ Jeonghan always thought that life would be easier if he just stayed as he was, unmoving. Turns out that there was more to life than just that

• Joshua ➝ we can’t be friends We can't be friends But I'd like to just pretend ↳ you and joshua always traveled through the same friend groups but you were never really close to one another, mostly because you might have carried a crush on him for years. but when joshua suddenly decides that he wants to be friends, you don’t have it in you to say no

• Jun ➝ end of the world Wonder if he’s thinkin’ ‘bout it too and smiling Wonder if he knows that that’s been what's inspirin’ me Wonder if he’s judging me like I am right now ↳ after a first date that went beyond expectations, you couldn't help but wonder if jun too felt those same butterflies when he thought about you

• Soonyoung ➝ eternal sunshine I found a good boy and he’s on my side You’re just my eternal sunshine, sunshine ↳ even after months after your break up, after you met someone new, you can’t help but think back to your relationship with soonyoung, and how you're sure you’ll never truly be able to move on from him, after all he was still your eternal sunshine

• Wonwoo ➝ i wish i hated you our shadow dance in a parallel plane Just two different endings ↳ looking from the outside, you and wonwoo are the same, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. in fact, you couldn't be further away from each other

• Jihoon ➝ Don’t Wanna Break Up Again This situationship has to end But I just can't refuse I don't wanna break up again  ↳ you know you have to get away from jihoon, but whenever he calls you’re ready to run toward him, even if it means breaking your own heart in the process

• Mingyu ➝ bye Didn't think you'd lose me Now it's just too late to choose me ↳ you’re tired of always being the second choice for Mingyu, maybe it’s time for you to become your first option 

• Seokmin ➝ supernatural This love's possessin' me, but I don't mind at all It's taking over me, don't wanna fight the fall ↳ you knew that you were falling way too deep for seokmin, but there was no way you’d ever try to catch yourself before you hit the ground

• Vernon ➝ yes, and? Now, I’m so done with caring What you think, no, I won't hide Underneath your projections Or change my most authentic life ↳ throughout all of his life, vernon heard about how uncommon and weird his interests were, so in order to fit in more easily, he did his best to hide the odd away, but he was done doing that, especially when all it did was keep you away from him. 

• Seungkwan ➝ ordinary things It’s funny, but it's true There's never going to be an ordinary thing As long as I'm with you ↳ life with Seungkwan was always extraordinary, he made sure of that

• Chan ➝ the boy is mine Promise you I'm not usually Like this, shit, it's like news to me, to me But I can't ignore my heart, boy ↳ you had always been chill and your relationship with had never been labeled, so at times it was hard to pinpoint where you stood, but one day, at a particular party, when a particular girl showed up, you couldn't help but be jealous

if you enjoyed reading, please reblog and leave a comment, it really does mean the world to me and i would love to know your thoughts. thank you! 💕

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[bzurk]

soap x reader, WIP, 1.3k, sfw. cw: isolation, manipulation.

Johnny wasn’t the same after he came home.

You noticed it immediately, the shift in the air, the way everything about him feels wrong. You notice it in the way his hands tremble when he holds you, in the small, fleeting glances he throws your way when he thinks you're not looking. He’s there, standing in the same space as you, but it’s like a part of him stayed behind, lost in whatever place he was in when the bullet hit.

It’s been months since they handed him back to you, since those days in the hospital where you listened to doctors carefully navigate words like “trauma” and “prognosis,” where they spoke around the truth without touching it. The scar near his temple has faded some, just a faint crescent of pink flesh now. But the deeper wound, the one you can’t see, festers. It gnaws at him. It’s changed him.

At first, you waited for him to come back to you. Thought that all he needed was time. That he'd slip back into normal life, back into the routines you once shared. You told yourself he’d find his rhythm again, that the nightmares would fade, that he’d laugh the way he used to, that the silence between you would shrink. It always did. But not this time. Time didn’t heal him. If anything, it’s made him more distant, more afraid. Your Johnny, the man that never knew fear, was afraid.

He hovers. Watches you from the corner of his eye like he’s scared you’ll disappear. He’s quieter now, more distant, but with this strange, desperate energy simmering beneath his skin, like a spring wound too tight. You feel it in the way his touch lingers too long and too tight as if he's trying to hold onto something that keeps slipping away.

Some nights, he doesn’t sleep at all, restless. You hear him moving through the house long after the world outside has gone still. The creak of the floorboards in the hallway, the soft sound of him touching things as if he needs to reassure himself that they’re still there, that you’re still here. He checks the doors, the windows, again and again. As if he can’t trust that you’re safe. When he finally returns to bed, you pretend to sleep, but you feel him watching you in the dark, his breath shallow, counting the rise and fall of your chest like he’s afraid there won’t be another inhale.

And then there are his words; haunting and chilling in their implications.

"Do ye think there's anything after death?" he asked one night, his eyes empty and distant as if speaking to someone beyond this world. The concept consumes him now, gnawing at his sanity and eroding away the person he once was.

“What if something happens to ye? What if- what if I lose ye?” His voice is low, strained, as if the thought of losing you is more unbearable than anything he’s seen.

And you try to reassure him, tell him you’re not going anywhere, but you see it in his eyes; he doesn’t believe you. He doesn’t trust that life won’t take you from him the way it nearly took him from you.

You catch him sometimes, just sitting by the window, staring out, fingers absently tracing the scar near his temple. You ask him what he’s thinking, but he never really answers. His eyes tell you more than his words ever could. It’s not death that haunts him anymore. It’s the idea that he survived - survived only to lose the one thing he still has left.

He’s afraid of something else now, of losing you. Of life slipping through his fingers while he’s still alive, as if he's trapped in some limbo between living and dying. The fragility of everything weighs on him now. How quickly it can all be taken away. In that fear, you see how tightly he clings to you, how much he’s come to depend on the idea that you’re still here, still with him.

With his reliance, his dependance, came isolation.

It starts slowly - so slowly you don’t even notice it at first. A missed call here, a forgotten message there. In the beginning, it feels like he needs you more than anyone else does. His grip on you tightens, but it’s soft at first, wrapped in affection. He says he just wants more time with you, more moments where it’s just the two of you, safe and together. And after everything he’s been through, who could blame him?

It felt nice, to be needed. Appreciated. Loved.

But over time, it changes. The excuses start. You skip one dinner with friends because Johnny’s having a bad day. Then it’s a weekend with family that you can’t make because he’s restless and doesn’t want to be alone. You brush it off because he needs you, and after what happened to him, it seems right to put him first. But it becomes more frequent. More insistent. And before you realize it, you’re missing invitations altogether.

You find yourself canceling plans because when you mention going out, his voice tightens, his eyes flicker with that haunted, empty look, and he asks, “Why d’ye need to go? Can’t ye just stay here? With me?”

It’s not a request.

There’s an undercurrent of something darker now, something desperate. He’s not just asking for company, he’s asking for control, cloaked in the guise of needing you. His paranoia rubs off on you, stains your skin with goosebumps and chills. What if something happens to him while you’re gone? What if something happens to you? What if he’s left all alone?

He’s lost so much already; his teammates, his sense of purpose, everything he once knew. They’re all back out there, fighting without him, and you’re all he has left. You see that fear in his eyes, the terror of being abandoned again, of losing the last person who’s still within his reach. And that’s when you realize you’re not just his partner anymore. You’ve become his tether to the world, his lifeline. And in his mind, if he loses you, he loses everything.

The weight of his fear has begun to press down on you, smothering you slowly, the way his presence always seems to leach into every corner of your life.

It becomes easier to say no to people, easier to lie and tell them you’re busy when really, you’re just trapped. You try to tell yourself it’s okay, that he’s been through enough, that this is how he copes.

You feel the isolation creeping in, like walls closing around you.

He doesn’t want you talking to your friends. He doesn’t say it outright, but you can feel it in the way he sighs when your phone rings, in the tight-lipped silence when you mention meeting someone for coffee.

“I just want ye to be safe,” he says, voice low, almost pleading. “Can’t trust the world out there.”

And the worst part is, you start to believe him. He knows the world outside better then you do, doesn’t he? He’s seen it without the tinted glasses of ignorance, exposed to the underbelly of it, been trapped in it, scarred and mauled by it. Swallowed by it and spat back out.

You’ve begun to crack under the strain, hairline fractures that splinter and spread under stress. The weight of his fear, the constant need to reassure him, to be there every second, begins to suffocate you. He doesn’t see it. He thinks he’s protecting you, protecting both of you. But you know that he’s pulling you into the same darkness that haunts him, isolating you piece by piece until you’re just as trapped as he is.

You love him, more than anything, but you can feel yourself drowning.