#shaking my fist thru tears ...

[ghost-proofbaby]

MORDOR (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: you take a chance, and decide to call mordor.

warnings: fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), mentions of life struggles (reader's turn to go through it), references to previous addition in this series so might be a little harder than normal to read as stand alone! this is really just me projecting on my need for eddie munson to comfort me

wc: 4.8k+

the full menu

You’re late. So, so fucking late. 

It panics Eddie. He sat in his car for that extra hour just waiting for your ridiculously bright yellow Jeep to pull in beside him, and when you still hadn’t by the time Nicole arrived, his chest twisted. When Nicole gets out of her car, and you’re still not there, his stomach churns.

Where are you? Are you okay? 

You hadn’t texted Nicole. You don’t call the store as the two of them flit about and try to manage opening without you. And when the time arrives to unlock the doors for the customers, Nicole finally excused herself to try and call you herself. 

Eddie scorns himself for not having your number. How stupid is it that you two have made a pact to be friends, and yet here he is weeks later, still not having your number.

“Any luck?” he asks, trying to level his tone when Nicole returns and he’s turning on the ovens.

“Nope,” her brows furrowed as she quickly scoots behind him, heading towards the front register, “It went straight to voicemail. Which, I mean… she’s never been late. Not like this.” 

“Should we be worried?” 

It’s a stupid question. He’s already worried. He’s frazzled enough to say fuck it, toss down his apron, and send out a search party for you rather than worrying about the store.

“Maybe,” Nicole shrugs, as if this doesn’t concern her as much as it does Eddie. As if there’s not sirens going off in her head as well. As if your sudden lack of punctuality is something to just shrug off.

As if your absence doesn’t rattle her the way it rattles Eddie. 

An hour passes by. Eddie gets more restless. Constantly looking to the store’s front door, incessantly checking outside the drive thru window for any sign of you or that damn Jeep. Every time the phone rings, Eddie has to curl his hands into fists to let Nicole answer rather than him. Each time, when he looks at her, the subtle shake of her head tells him it’s not you. His tongue nearly bleeds from how he chews on it with his molars to stop from asking her if she had tried to reach you again. He knows she has, notices how she spends extra time in the back, no doubt sending texts and useless calls alike your way.

If it were any other coworker, both Eddie and Nicole would be fuming. Concern would be replaced with irritation

He’s actually reaching to untie his apron and informing her that he’ll start trying to reach you instead when you finally come bursting into the store, a full two hours late to your shift. 

“Fuck,” you whisper-exclaim as you power walk through the lobby, “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” 

“You’re here!” he doesn’t bother keeping down his volume at the sight of you, flooded with immediate relief.

You’re okay. 

“I’m so sorry,” the apologies immediately begin to pour from your lips as you nearly trip rounding the corner into the back room, Eddie hot on your trail, “I’m so, so sorry! Shit, I- I just slept through my alarm, and had a late night, and-“ 

You’re digging your apron out of your bag when he finally reaches out to softly grab your arm, squeezing gently in an offer of comfort as you finally pause. 

“It’s fine,” he promises, “Everyone is late every once and a while.” 

Nicole was in the bathroom, but he’s sure that she’d say the same thing. The entire morning, both her and Eddie had been more worried than anything. Not mad, not irritated, but worried. 

And yet, you’re still on the verge of tears as you look up at Eddie, “It’s not fine. You had to open the store all on your own, and I know that’s stressful, and I saw all the missed calls but my phone was on silent. I mean, my shift’s already half over at this point. And I just-“ 

You cut off your rambling with a shaky breath. It breaks his heart to see you so upset, so guilt-ridden over something that happens to the best of you all. 

“It’s okay,” he stresses once more, another squeeze on your arm, “You had a late night? Is everything okay?” 

You open your mouth to answer him, the no already forming on your lips, when Nicole returns from the bathroom.

“Oh my gosh, there you are!” she exclaims.

And just like that, Eddie’s chance to be there for you as you were for him has vanished into thin air.

—

Your shift may have lasted several hours less than it was meant to, but you’re convinced it’s the absolute worst hours of your life. Which is saying a lot given how your life has gone to shit the last two days. 

You were already falling behind on classes, and your bank account was in the negative due to tuition payments. Your mother was calling every day to spend hours on the phone under the guise of catching you up at what you were missing at home, when in all reality it was just her complaining without taking a breath or allowing you to say a single word. You had to take your cat to the emergency vet when he wasn’t eating, only to find out he probably just didn’t like his current food anymore after a series of very expensive tests. Thing after thing, punch after punch, was being thrown your way. It was all just a bit much. 

And then you were late to work. Slept in after forgetting to set an alarm after a late night of staying up and listening to a friend rant over the phone. Burnt your hand not once but twice on the ovens. Spilt an entire cup of hot coffee on yourself. 

Life was out to get you. 

And the only good thing about today was Eddie. 

When the clock finally signals for the two of you to step off the floor, you’re sighing out in relief. You have no idea what the next issue will be waiting for you off the clock, but you’ve accepted that the day couldn’t get worse. And yet, as you go to grab your bag, wrapping your apron by muscle memory as you watch him, your stomach churns at the thought of today’s time being cut so short today. You just like being around him. You like making inside jokes, sharing quick glances, making one another laugh until your stomachs ache over stupid things in the midst of chaos. He’s a guiding light, something to look forward to, a wonderful break from reality that you just… you just cherish.

As you’re tearing up suddenly at the realization along with the heavy weight of your week, you recall that conversation last week. The word you two had assigned for when you needed a break.

Technically, it was probably a joke. Or to be used to ditch work. He probably hadn’t meant it.

But you have to try.

“Hey, uh, Eddie?” you ask nervously, fiddling with the straps of your bag as he’s patting his pockets for all his items.

“Yeah?” he doesn’t look up yet, doesn’t see the forlorn look across your face.

Just say it. If he doesn’t get it – no harm, no foul. If he gets it, and rejects the motion – oh well. The worst he can say is no. 

You have to swallow hard, take a sharp breath, before you can get the single word out. “Mordor.” 

He freezes mid-pat, hands hovering over his front pockets as he slowly looks up. 

“What did you say?”

“Mordor,” you repeat yourself, with a little more confidence to your tone this time. The worst he can say is no. 

For a second, you become convinced he’s forgotten all about that conversation in the parking lot. You really don’t blame him; half the time, you guys discuss anything and everything with minimal importance. Those early and surreal mornings are always more about spending time with one another, with a friend, than it is about actually processing the things said.

But then, two things happen. Firstly, the wrinkles between his brows smooth out. A second passes. And then – they return. 

Sloping ridges and mountains in that small space, each and every bit of them etched with worry. For you. The corners of his mouth deeply downturn and all the white noise of the front of house fades away the longer he looks at you with such care. 

“Mordor?” he echoes, “Like, as in… as in our code word?” 

You feel as if the moment you speak up, all that strength you had mustered throughout the shift will shatter. You’re tired and you’re beaten, you’re desperate and you’re hoping. You don’t even care if he tells you he doesn’t have time to properly sit and unwind with you right now – you’d settle for just a hug. The same arms that bump against yours and that sometimes stretch along your space to grab things from around you, the same arms you’ve seen strain as he insists on carrying heavy kegs for you, the same arms you just want to wrap around you, if even for a second, and squeeze. 

Who knows? Maybe, if he squeezes tight enough, he can put all the broken shards of the week back into place. It’s not his job to fix it, but you’re convinced for a moment, he’s the key to everything just feeling okay for nothing more than a mere second. 

You nod. If you answer him with words, you’re going to cry. The tears are already eagerly burning your corneas. 

He says your name softly, gentle enough that you have to pinch your eyes shut and take a shaky breath to avoid any spillage of your emotions. 

“Are you okay?” 

“No,” you try to make it a laugh, as if this is a joke, “I, uh- not really?” 

“Is it because you were late today?”

Your voice cracks and your eyes squeeze shut tighter for a second as you answer with a weak, “Kind of.” 

You let your eyes snap open again, try and seek out some everpresent warmth in his honey brown ones as your vision blurs a bit with shameful tears. 

You’ve never realized just how many shades resided in those irises, all warm and cool browns alike swirling. They almost match the espresso, you come to realize. And it’s funny, to think about the way all your other coworkers whisper just as scary and grumpy he is the moment he’s out of earshot. It’s funny how customers seem to crumple timidly beneath his disassociating gaze when he finds himself lost in thought on bar or warming. Every single other person who has stepped foot in this store seems to have one impression of Eddie, and it’s not even a proper shadow of the man before you. 

All soft edges. All care and all warmth. He’s not scary, he’s not grumpy; he’s careful and considerate, a little shy at times, a little hesitant at others. And you can only imagine why he’s that way, when you can see someone entirely different reflected in those goddamn honeyed eyes in this moment. 

He takes a step forward. Opens his mouth to speak. Goes as far to even begin to reach out a hand. And then he’s interrupted. 

“Thank you for your patience,” Nicole chirps into her headset as she comes into the back room, turning a corner with determination and snatching a sleeve of cups off the shelves as she continues to speak over the drive thru channel with ease, “Can we get you started with anything to eat today?” 

His mouth closes and his hand drops as you both glance down at the floor, completely silent as you wait for her to finally retreat back out onto the floor without a second glance at the two of you. 

The tears still burn and blur your vision. 

“Okay,” Eddie says the moment the two of you are alone in the back once more, “Okay. Mordor it is. Come with me, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart. It rolls off his tongue and it wraps around you before he reaches out and grabs at your hand, only connecting palms and avoiding intertwining fingers before he’s tugging you out the back door. 

Not even through the front. As if he wants to save you the embarrassment of a walk of shame with teary eyes and defeated shoulders.

“We can’t-” you start to protest, but he’s already wrangled the key that is left in the back door – impressively quickly, as even you struggle with that fickle lock at times – before he shoves the door open wordlessly and yanks you out with him wordlessly. 

The door doesn’t even slam shut. It feels like a dramatic moment where it should, but it only closes back with a whisper and soft whoosh of air. 

“They have to do a trash run anyways,” he reassures you when you look back at the unlocked door with worry, referring to the overflowing trash that would soon be taken out to the dumpster in the distance, “It’s fine.” 

The soil crunches beneath both of your sneakers as he makes a beeline to his van. No questions are asked, just as you two had joked about. 

The sun is still favoring the Eastern sky despite growing warmer in the late morning. Eddie’s van is stuffy when he initially unlocks it for both of you to jump into the front, him being sure to open the passenger door for you and only shutting it closed once you’ve securely settled into that seat you’ve spent countless early hours in. 

He starts up the vehicle once he’s in his driver’s seat, but makes no move to drive off as he stares at you. 

“What?” you whisper, voice still strained as you toss your bag down by your feet. 

All he says in return, still gentle and still warm, still glowing brighter than the man everyone seems to think he is, is a reminder of, “Seatbelt.” 

You obey that half-spoken command. You don’t ask where you two are going once he shifts into drive the moment the click sounds in the small space.

—

Eddie drives for a while. He gets onto the freeway in the opposite direction of your way home, and you probably should be worried, but you aren’t. You have no mental capacity for consideration of how you’ll get back to your car, whether your coworkers will worry about it remaining in the parking lot, or whether Eddie even knows where he’s going. Hell, even his slightly erratic driving doesn’t affect you. 

You just stare at the trees as they pass by in a blur. Your mind numbs, smells of a rainstorm in the distance slips into the cabin of the vehicle through the cracks in the back windows, and you just let go. 

If your mother knew what you had done today, you would have absolutely been reamed a new one. 

Eddie slows at an unfamiliar exit, just after the two of you pass a small green sign that reads NOW ENTERING HAWKINS CITY LIMITS. 

“Hawkins?” you murmur your first noise of the entire drive. 

“You ever been?” Eddie asks as if you hadn’t been catatonic the entire way here. 

You prop an elbow up on the door, fist digging into the side of your face as you lean and take in the scenery now passing by a bit slower, “Can’t say I have.” 

“Well, then,” he keeps talking, and it’s sort of comforting after the long silence, “Consider yourself lucky.” 

That gets a snort out of you. One that has his head turning quickly to look at you as he slows at the first redlight after the freeway, a grin twitching on his lips softly as he takes in the sight of you. 

He must think you can’t see him staring, because he continues to do it, until the light has changed green and he’s made no move to press on his gas.

“It’s green.”

“Huh?”

You look over at him, his rosy cheeks and diverted eyes at being caught, and repeat yourself with more emphasis, “The light’s green, idiot.” 

“Oh, shit!” 

Another snort, another rapid (albeit shorter) glance on his part. 

He’s got a nice smile. Even if he might totally be a secret serial killer who was just jumping at the opportunity to murk his unsuspecting and vulnerable coworker in the middle of the woods. He could get away with it with a smile like that. 

It’s only once he’s turned onto a dirt road that leads out into the woods that you really care to finally ask one of the first questions you probably should have asked the moment you got in his van – “Uh, Eddie? Where… Where are you taking me?” 

“Trust me,” he insists, both hands gripping his wheel with care as he navigates the car into thicker foliage, “I promise I’m not going to, like, murder you.” 

“Sounds like something someone who is going to murder me would say,” you put in a little extra effort, offering him the joke and more than a snort this time. 

You don’t miss the swell of pride that lifts him to sit up just a tad bit straighter in his seat. As if your joking, as if your laughing, was something he was proud to elicit from you. 

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out, then.” 

He drives pretty deeply into the woods, until the road turns rougher and the treeline is thick enough you can’t catch clearsight of the main road anymore. You really should be worried, but all you do instead of mustering up any anxiety is roll down the window. It makes him glance at you, but you don’t pay that look any mind. 

The smell of rain is even stronger, heavy as it mingles with the scent of pine and dirt. It somehow dances between something familiar and something new, a distant memory that unlocks and soothes some of that tightness that had been residing in your chest for a week now. It doesn’t smother, but it does gather up in your nose, tickling in the slightest. You swear, if you were to focus hard enough, you’d pick up on the comforting smell of a burning campfire somewhere. It just seemed like the kind of appropriate scent to add to the essence of it all. The strings of light that break through leaves in golden hues, the cloud spitting out of his back tires as he clearly goes just above the recommended speed for this old road, the pleasant chirp of a bird that whistles right past – the essence of pure comfort to someone like you. 

It kind of makes you wish you lived in Hawkins, just as you assumed Eddie did. 

He finally slows the van into a clearing, never once scolding you for rolling the window down. He leaves you as you twist your body in what must be an uncomfortable fashion to rest your chin on the top of the door, cheeks and nose just barely peeking out of the car. Every slap of the breeze on your face feels as though you’re releasing another bit of worry to the wind, your chest continuing to grow lighter and lighter. 

“Alright, Sunshine,” he clears his throat, throwing the van into park. The clearing is very obviously a small campsite – you can make out a fire pit just a few paces away and the perfect space cleared of rocks, “You call the shots. What are we gonna do?”

“What?”

Eddie leans over the center console, getting closer to you as thunder rolls in the distance, “What do you want to do? You called Mordor, so whatever is going to help you, we’ll do.”

You want to tell him that just doing as he has, not saying no and not asking questions as he drove the two of you out into the middle of nowhere, helped. The fact that he hadn’t hesitated when he’d processed that you’d said Mordor was already doing wonders for the storm that had brewed within your chest. You’d managed to snag extra time with the boy who had a way about making everything alright, and that in itself was able to erase some of your week from Hell.

But he’s looking at you, awaiting a real answer, so you say the first thing you can think of, “Do you have your copy of The Hobbit on you, by chance?” 

“Oh, say less, sweetheart,” Quickly, Eddie fumbles with his seatbelt and unbuckles himself, swinging open his door and clambering out onto the soft ground waiting below. He waits for a moment, hands on his hips as he looks at you expectantly, “Well? C’mon. I promise you the back seat is far more comfortable.” 

“Does that line usually work for you?” 

“I don’t mean it like that.” 

“Every fuckboy means it like that, Eds.” 

You don’t know it, but his heart swells a little bit at the nickname. 

“Good thing I’m not a fuck boy then,” he leans back into the van a little, smiling wildly, “Now come and join me in the back of my van in a totally platonic, definitely not suggestive way, Sunshine.” 

He doesn’t have to ask twice; you’re climbing out to follow him to the back of the van, not even flinching as you both slam your doors shut in sync and you giggle the entire way. It’s just his effect. Everything is lighter with him around, and you’re starting to believe he should be the one called Sunshine instead of you. 

“M’lady,” he bows dramatically, swinging open the heavy doors for you. 

The climb in is a bit awkward, but you don’t even think about it as you take in the nest of an arrangement Eddie has set up in the back of his van. There’s an old comforter spread out across the entire floor of it, with several smaller blankets bunched at random with a few pillows. 

“Are you sure you’re not a fuckboy?” you question as you’re careful to not touch the blankets with the sole of your shoes, twisting and beginning to unlace the sneakers that had seen better days. There’s stains of various sauces and syrups from work, and surely milk layering the bottom of them. You’re positive if you investigated close enough, you’d even find coffee grounds lodged between the ridges of the textured sole. 

“Positive,” Eddie follows you in, reaching and shutting the doors carefully behind him. He’s less meticulous about his own boots, hardly undoing the knots and kicking them off into the same corner you’d placed your shoes, “I solemnly swear you are the first to see these freshly cleaned blankets.” 

“What about before you cleaned them?” 

“Sweetheart,” he throws himself down on one of the worn pillows, laying right beside where you have your knees drawn up to your knees. He’s flat on his back, hair flaring out in a halo around his head as he looks up at you with big, brown eyes, “You’re killing me here.” 

You can’t help it. The two of you are probably not nearly close enough for what you impulsively do, but you’ve had a hard week, and his hair looks damn soft. 

Your fingers are reaching out to trace over some of the wild and thrown out strands of curls before you can overthink it. Curling caramel and honey softness, you try to not let your breath catch as your pull up on the strand and let it run between your knuckles rather than just fingertips. 

“Yeah?” you smile gently, watching him melt as you twirl the end of the curl you’d been playing with around the length of your finger, “Any specific requests for your funeral?” 

He plays along, trying to not get too lost up in the barely-there feeling of you playing with his hair, “Your attendance, obviously. And probably some good music. Preferably Metallica – again, obviously.”

“Oh, obviously.” 

“Actually, d’you think you can get Kirk Hammett himself to attend? That’d be the best outcome. My only request, actually.”

“You’d rather Kirk Hammett attend your funeral than me?”

“I’ve got priorities here, Sunshine.” 

Your fingers have traveled up to his scalp now, scratching gently as you both are consumed in withheld laughter and brilliantly shy smiles, letting go of heavy weeks and succumbing to all of the sunlight crammed into the back of Eddie’s van. 

“Alright,” your fingers pause their scratches, “I believe you were meant to read me a bedtime story, Munson.” 

“Bedtime story? It’s not even afternoon yet,” Eddie scoffs, throwing a hand up as he digs beneath one of the small, fluffy blankets in the corner. When his hand comes back into view, it clutches that same copy of The Hobbit you’ve seen on the back desk at work on multiple occasions, “Alright, well, make yourself comfortable.” 

Eddie shifts to sit up, your hand falling from his scalp as he piles a few of the pillows from beside him to prop him up as you mentally debate your options. 

You could just lay down beside him. Not touching, just listening. The arrangement was comfortable enough and you have no doubt that it would still be exactly as you needed after all the stress. 

Or you could be daring. You could do more than listen; you could lay your head in his lap, or maybe rest your tired temple against his shoulder. Your could press up against him tightly under the excuse that the space back here was limited and you could selfishly indulge in all that he was willing to offer for this afternoon. More than brushing touches, more than playful glances. 

You could feel the skin of his arm against your own bare shoulder and for a moment, you could just pretend. 

Don’t overthink it. Don’t overthink this. 

You opt for the lap. It’s more comfortable. Less intimate, you convince yourself. 

When your cheek presses into the rough denim stretching over his thigh, you can feel him tense up momentarily. Everything seemingly stops for just a second – even his breathing. But by the time you notice, it’s already resumed. You start to worry you’ve overstepped boundaries, gone too far for two coworkers playing pretend as ‘friends’. 

This definitely isn’t what he meant. First you played with his hair, now you’re laying your head on his lap. You need to learn personal space, personal boundari-

All thoughts evaporate as Eddie suddenly tugs one of the blankets over you, letting it drape comfortably over your shoulder. 

“Shall we begin?” 

Eddie’s voice was made to narrate Tolkien. It becomes apparent between the way he enunciates each word to paint a beautiful fantasy world, his fluctuation changing for each character without missing a beat. His voice takes on a slightly deeper timber than his normal speaking voice as you listen to the storm that had been teasing the entire drive finally break. Hard winds knock against the sides of the van occasionally, the patter of rain echoing off the metal roof of the van. Thunder becomes more frequent, and you couldn’t be sure, but there must be lightning somewhere above the trees to match it. But it doesn’t reach the two of you, the random bursts of light easily mistaken for swaying shadows through the windshield. 

Here in this van, with just you and Eddie and the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, it feels as if nothing bad can touch either of you. Not long weeks, not irate customers, not pessimistic friends or family – nothing. A certain bubble of safety has been created here, and you revel in it. Preen in the certainty of a few hours rest as Eddie’s fingers begin to tangle in your hair and return the favor of playing with your own strands. A simple pattern; he starts at the scalp, runs the fingers all the way through until they trail down the slope of your neck and curve of your shoulder. On occasion, they even slip to caress the top of your spine through the blanket.

Somewhere between the warmth of the soft blanket enveloping you in the scent of clean laundry and the soothing repetitive motions, you find yourself slipping away into sleep. Well-deserved, very much needed sleep that welcomes you with open arms. It’s not quite the hug you had craved from Eddie back at the store, but it’s a hug all the same, and it does hold you close just tight enough to make you believe the afternoon is capable of pressing all your broken pieces back together. If not forever, then just for now. The comfort of it all only has you nuzzling your cheek deeper into the muscle of his thigh.

The lap, it turns out, was the right choice.

Little did you know how grateful Eddie was for your choice of position. Better for your head to rest on his lap than for your ear to be pressed to his chest and hearing the current thunder of his heart that challenges the storm beginning outside the van, beating far harder for you than a friend’s would.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @d64d-n0t-sl66p1ng @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975

ghost's taglist: @emmaisgonnacry @figmentofquinn @bebe07011 @barbedwirebats @ayooooo0 @neverlearnedcivility @munson-enthusiast @digwhatudug @wow-cam @daddysmodifiedprincess2 @cancankiki @gothmingguk @nix-rose @thesesuggestedblognamesbegreat @chevelle724 @madaboutjoe @take-everything-you-can @josephquinnsfreckles @thebanisheddreamer @water-loos @dailyobsession @whenshelanded @happy-and-alone @alwayslindie @royale1803 @onegirlmanytales @whyamiheresomeonehelp @mrsjellymunson

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[dabiscarpet]

Smell you, scent you

fox! Natsuya x f! reader 🦊

A collab for into the omegaverse by the beautiful @goxjo (divider cr. to my lovely aki too)

Warnings: tw: sexual themes, blood, violence, human hybrids, p in v, unprotected, creampie, a lil bit of mean Natsuya (but not a lot), crying reader

word count: 3.1k

⚠️ mdni!!! ⚠️

You can feel it, breathing almost on the back of your neck. You keep walking nonetheless, head up and tall, headphones in, but music lowered to the min, one hand in your pocket holding your phone, the other gripping hard the strap of the pretty pink purse your boyfriend gifted you month.

One block... Two blocks... Three blocks... Six.... Eight... Ten...a left and then another left, and another one... Still right behind you, hiding in the shadows, sun setting already and darkness becoming more predominant.

You try and keep your breathing steady. 1...2....3... Exhale. And again. You already lost track of the time. Where were you even going in the first place? Oh right, your boyfriend's house.

You were going to surprise him after a whole week of being completely absorbed by uni finals. He had reluctantly agreed to leaving you alone. You two loved each other so much, you were obsessed even with spending time together, so you had to take the very painful decision to ask him some time alone while you finished your semester. Now everything was over, and you couldn't think of anything else you but him once again.... Except for this moment, wondering if you'll even see him again at this point.

Gulping hard, some sort of sharpness was pressing around your neck, and a hairy hand was dragging you with extreme force into the alleyway. Before realizing it, you were pinned against the wall, bag long forgotten in the harsh pavement, scratching it, just like the wolf-like creature in front of your was scratching behind your ear.

"don't scream and it won't hurt as much" he leaned in to breath your scent, deep. You felt absolute disgust creeping through your every pore, but you laid immobilized, unable to fully understand how you got yourself into this.

Evoking your best memories with your boyfriend, his deep, rich caramel eyes is all you could see when you closed your eyes, prepared for the worst....

....

But it never came.

You heard an immediate thud and opened your eyes widely, a flash of brown and the strongest scent of cinnamon and spice the first things you noticed, the smell soon turning bitter and stronger.

The wolf-like man was thrown to the other side of the alley, and your boyfriend's imposing figure adorned by his majestic tail, now in a fighting stance, over the man. It took very little effort for your boyfriend to knock the other guy out, but his anger wouldn't go down.

He breathed strongly, almost as if it was hard for him, pupils dilated and full of fury, ears on top of his head thrown back, and his knuckles full for blood, a bit had already splashed onto his face. This made you finally react and reach out for him, trying to call out his name.

"NATSU"

He stopped, ears perked up again, fist still in the air while he turned around to look you in the eyes. He quickly dropped the dude, left to his own fate in that cold cement floor, and jumped to hug you, wrapping you in his warm body, kissing endlessly the top of your head, wonderful tail shielding both of you from distancing. Then, in his arms, now safe, you finally break down in tears.

"Natsu... I don't know what was that... was so scared, terrified!!" You managed to let thru whimpers and cries, your body now shaking and Natsuya hugging you tighter.

"I'm so sorry my love, I was not faster" he sounded deeply regretful. "I hope that bastard didn't do anything to you, or I'll finish him right now-"

"No please stop, just please.... Stay with me" and you cling to his maroon shirt, tears staining down the front of it and wrinkling it between your fingers.

"I promise my love, I am really really sorry, this is all my fault" you didn't have the energy to fight him, to tell him he did nothing wrong, you just kept saying no, no, no constantly.

"I promise to never ever leave you alone. Absolutely not even one second" and he meant it.

"Come on, let's get you out of here. I'm sure this bastard must have some friends around" you just nodded and picked up your bag, hiding in your big boyfriend's shadow all the way back to his apartment.

All the way back to his apartment, Natsuya not only held your hand or your arm, his whole complexion was somehow around you. His arm around your shoulders, keeping you as close as possible, pretty ears standing up to identidy any sound, and his scent... oH GOD HIS SCENT

It wafted all around you too, like a invisible protective cloud, so powerfull it was almost making you dizzy, but his strong grip prevented you from fainting, weak legs being basically dragged by him. You felt it, still the bitterness overpowering the sweet in his usual smell. Natsu was angry, probably more than you had ever seen.

The image of him beating up the other guy flooding your mind again. You looked at his knuckles and stains of blood still remained there, and shyly peeked up to see fresh blood still on his face.

And that somehow turned you on. The twisted thought of violence, of him being so masculine, so strong, so overpowering that could easily break you with a hand, but instead he used that strenght to protect you... It was wicked, you know it, but a very small part in the back of your brain wished you had not stopped him so quick and just enjoy the sight a little bit more-

"What´s on your mind?" Wow you had not realized how many blocks away you were, how far you had gone to hide. Just now you see his apartment almost at the end of the street.

"...Noth-"

"Don´t lie to me"

"..." You took a deep breath, and as soon as you were in front of his door, you confessed. Natsu would always know if you lied anyway. "I kinda wish... to see you angry more..."

He swung the door open and pushed you inside with a little more force than necessary. In the dark, his expression was unreadable, but his tail wrapped around you and the still tight grip on your wrist giving the message.

"Well... as twisted as that sounds.... you can enjoy a little more" Natsu dragged you to the living room and only turned on the small lamp next to the couch. "I am angry right now, still furious... and partly because of you"

You were so shocked by his answer that you could not reply. Your mind started rushing, trying to figure out how and why would he want to take it out on you. Your sweet sweet Natsuya.

"Because you forced me to stay away so long, and I respected it because I love you-" He pulled you as close as possible, face coming down to your neck, breathing in fully "My scent has almost vanished from you completely. I do not like that at all"

You did not even have the time to feel relief, because his mouth attacked your neck with kisses and bites. Purse falling to the floor, you just opened up to him, using the hand that was still free from his grip to grab his soft hair, touch his soft years, and pull him closer. The intensity was as that of a feral animal, you could feel it, his primal instincts taking over quickly.

Soon, the victim was your mouth. His lips overpowered yours, just as you wanted, for Natsu to take complete control over you. You let his tongue to lick all inside you, your teeth to clash, for him to spit in your mouth, and literally bite your lips, the lower one until it started bleeding, and he licked it all.

Natsu was unusually rough, and you could be more excited, already dripping just from the thought. He pushed you against the couch, and started ripping off your clothes, examining every corner of your body to check that you were totally ok, while marking you all over, wherever his lips could reach. His smell of cinnamon and spice already imprinted all around the room, all over your clothes, your hair, your skin... but it was still not enough for him.

"I am gonna make sure to scent you so hard, from the inside out princess" He grabbed your face again as he said thosw words, kissing you deeply again. You reached out to swipe the blood from his face with your thumb, but he quickly pushed you down to your knees. "Lets start with your thoat and face beautiful" His smile was blinding, almost wicked looking.

You do not remember when he took off his pants, but now you were face to face with his clothed dick, underwear completely soaked.

"Don´t you dare tease me, I am warning you"

"Yes Natsu" You just innocently looked up as you ripped off the underwear, he was already standing tall and proud, dripping, red, needy.

You wasted no time to lick him up and down, savouring the unusual bitterness that stemmed from his mood. Licking up and down, he felt bigger than ever, not sure if it was because of how long it felt since you had touched him, or if it was truly like that. Long, thick, pretty just like everything about him is. His tail falling behinf him in relaxation as soon as you started sucking him, his expression softening as he let out a strangled sound.

While having him in your mouth, you needely grabbed onto one of his strong, big thighs, while the other tried to push up his shirt. He quickly understood, removing it in a swift motion and discarding it somewhere in the darkness. Natsu grabbed your hair in a ponytail after you started slurping and playing with your teeth aroun him, your hand now gripping hard and then soft at his base, playing with him.

"You are playing with fire, and you know it" He managed to let out, already sounding breathless. You just smiled, dripping spit and precum from the corners of your mouth, innocent eyes looking up again as you continued your vicious cycle, he was just so addicting- and something inside him unleashead at this.

The hold on your hair quickly became painful, and you lost control of your movements. He took the lead and started pushing in you mouth with more energy, making you gag quickly and slurp and drooleven more. His ears were thrown back and his brown tail stood up again, as he relentlessly pushed into your mouth. Natsuya was a man on a mission.

You just let it happen, the wicked thoughts completely taking over your brain, actually enjoying his more feral and violent side. You did not care he was hurting you scalp and irritating the back of your throat, you were just happy that his all was with you.

Harder, faster, deeper... If he was being this rough with your mouth, you could not wait until it was your pussy, dripping onto the floor right now. Natsu usually lasted long, but today it was obvious it was not going to be that way. His breathing was ragged, short, his movements impossible faster, close close.... You just did your best recieving everything he gave you, sucking in to make it even more addicting for him, already fallen into a trance of in, out, in, out, IN-

Hot, very hot, white cum painted the back of your throat, and more and more ropes kept coming out, mouth already overfilled, so he pulled out and continued in your face, splashes of milky white painted your features, and Natsuya thought he had never seen something more beautiful. You beamed at him, watching his pretty pointy ears twitching in the afterglow pleasure.

Natsuya made sure to empty himself, and kneeled down, face to face with you. He grabbed your neck and kissed you slowly, deeply once again, tasting himself in you, the thought of nastiness already turning him on again, standing hard and tall quickly. Your hand drifted down to stimulate him once again, and he bit your lip, making it bleed again.

"Gosh you're really trying to make it up to me, don't you?"

"... I'm sorry, this wouldn't have happened if I didn't ask you to stay away love..."

Natsuya's face softened, his worried nature coming back to him at this, but were enjoying his animalistic side too much to let it drop so quickly, so you squeezed down on him once again, making him grunt, darkness returning to his caramel eyes, now looking chocolate.

Natsuya stood up and dragged you up with him by the arms, inhuman force making you weak on the knees. He turned you around and you supported yourself on the back of the couch, hand digging the fabric. He wasted not a single second.

"You're right princess. This was all because of your disobedience" he played along, as he noticed how much turned on you were with his roughness.

Pussy dripping, clear liquid going down your legs like never before. Natsuya kneeled right behind to smell in deeply, which made you red in the face, but he just spread your legs more and gave a long lick, from front to back, dizzy in your natural scent.

"I can't wait, get ready" and he didn't even finish his words, as his hard member was already making it's way inside of you.

The strain was almost unbearable, Natsuya was too big, too much, he felt too hot and fat, but the juices flowing from your inside only made it easier for him to keep going in. A few tears quickly formed on your eyes and fell, but your not sure if because of the pain or the relief you were feeling at least.

He wasted no time in getting to move, each stroke making him go in a little bit more and more, soon pressing all the spots inside of your pussy, his tip abusing your cervix. He felt no remorse as the tears kept falling from your face, because the sounds leaving your mouth and the squelch of your pussy sucking him back in told him another story.

His pace was absolutely animalistic, his tail firm and tense from the concentration, just like his ears, grunts and growls leaving his throat as his natural scent boosted even more with his sweat. In, out, Natsu kept penetrating deeply, hard and fast, the couch already moving form it's position.

"aaaaaaah natsuuuuu" you looked back at him, drool falling from the corner of your mouth, and your face still covered in his cum. "i- i can't-"

"what- is- it- that- you- can't?" Each word punctuated by a hit to your cervix, and now his hand was hovering over your clit. He gave slight touches here and there, but he still wanted to see you cry some more.

"I -... I need it-" he slapped your clit, and your pussy clenched hard ".aaaaahh touch me pleaseeeee"

He decided to give to you, and your delicious pussy already had him drunk in the pleasure, he just wanted to come inside you again and again and again, and didn't care for anything else. The hand over your clit finally made full contact, and he started rubbing it slowly but pressing hard, and you didn't need much more to crumble.

With a loud "fuuuuuuckk" you came all around him, squelch getting even louder as juices overflowed your insides, you hole pressing more around him, suffocating his dick. His tail instinctively wrapped around your waist when he pulled your upper body to his, to kiss your neck and back as you were still enjoying the stimulation. His strokes never stopped, nor faltered in rhythm.

Your shaky hand reached back and up, soon finding his ears on top of his head. You rubbed on them as you knew he loved, he always melted in your touch with that, because you felt his intensity growing even more.

"I really hope you're not tired yet, because I'm not done with you until you're full of my cum, stuffed to the point it overflows, fucked out so bad you can't leave my side for days, and each day you ask me for more and more..." He kept whispering dirty things in your ear as he came closer once again "I'm gonna make sure my scent sticks to you, becomes one with you, making it clear to the whole world that you belong to me, princess"

The overestimation already feeling too good, but too much, you kept crying out in pleasure while tightening around him, you already felt another orgasm incoming "aaaaaaah natsuuuuu I'm closeeee but... Haaaaah .... You have .... Have to first" you were decided to give it to him before you came again

For Natsuya, you felt absolutely angelic, heaven on earth, as your soft insides welcomed him since the very beginning. The beautiful sound it made, the sweet juices covering his whole lower body at this point... You didn't know it, but it was equally important for him to smell of you, to have it impregnated on his skin.

His member felt like it was about to explode, his hips faltering and falling out of rhythm, but still at a speed no human could ever. He had you lifted from the waist, meeting his strokes midway. His eyes were closed, but he opened them once again to see his cum on your face had dripped down your chest and-

"SHIT-" Natsu stopped suddenly, blurred vision as he held you tight against his skin. His tail tensed completely around you two, and his ears because stiff, and he emptied all the pent up frustration in ropes of milky white cum, that soon we're dripping down your legs. At the feeling of complete fullness, you had also cummed again, swollled lip between your lips as you wrapped you arm back around his neck and he breathed hard.

More and more kept coming out, painting all the inside of your walls white, marking you, scenting you from the inside out.

You remained still for a few minutes, trying to recover your breath. Natsuya was kissing the back of your head and neck, never letting his dick free from your pussy. You tried turning your head sideways, and he immediately reached down to kiss you, this time softly.

"I love you Natsu, I'm so sorry this is really all my fault-"

"Stop" the command in his voice making you bite your tongue "I'm sorry for all the mean things I said... It's my fault after all... But I will keep my word, and I'll make sure my scent never leaves you, ever again"

"Really? And how can you do that?"

"By fucking it into you every day ;)"

[starrbright]

Yielding Against The Waves |Nanami K.

"I just miss you, in a quite simple desperate human way." Vita Sackville-West to Virginia Woolf

Continuation of The Inevitability of Nature. A work of mine which was inspired from @shaisuki 's works, X | X.

all my y/n are afab, fat and of color.

painting of hokusai, the great wave off kanagawa. banner by @cafekitsune.

1.5k words. fluff. smut.

ive been going thru it, so 😁. i teared up when i read the scene with the three of them after i wrote it—

Nanami would have never thought himself to be....needy. But there he is, each time his class ends, he makes you stay, always catching your arm before you could step away from his vicinity.

Burying himself in your embrace, at this point everyone in his class knew that you and him were a thing and how fucking glad you were none of them didn't give a fuck enough for a drama to happen. Shit, if anything, there's always that one student who's always the last before you to leave the room, whichver of them-locks the room for you both. Lucky enough that you were on good terms with them and that Nanami is a respectable and highly regard of a professor after all.

"You have a vacant time right now, come with me to my office," he says, his voice deep on your neck as he holds you tight.

A little and quiet laugh you make while you caress his hair, emitting a low groan from him. "I need to use my vacant time to continue writing my paper." That was almost a lie. You wanted nothing more than to indulge him and even more yourself, but you know you couldn't spoil yourself too much, at least it was a little backup for your pride that you try to keep.

Nanami was beginning to be known of it and he's found it rather endearing. He nuzzles his face on your neck, always liking the way your head lolled against his with your shaking breath leaving you.  "You have more than enough days to finish your paper. I'm just asking for an hour or two, angel."

It wasn't that hard for your resolve to crack early when it comes to him. Perhaps that's how it is anyways—love. Even when it's not there yet. It's there.

Still, you try for now. "You talk of an hour or two as if you don't hate wasting time nor you like working past your shift." You remarked playfully.

And how could he not find you even more endearing whenever you manage to make the man break a smirk or even a smile. A soft breath of little laugh escapes him and you feel it on your skin. "For you, angel, for you." He mutters softly before trailing his lips on your neck to your chin, your supple cheeks and to your forehead. "And you could never waste my time."

How could you keep your resolve?

"Alright." That word was the reason you found yourself sitting on your professor's lap in his office. While he rests back heavily on his chair, his eyes closed, as your skirt is bunched up to your waist, his pants just on his knees. Enjoying how good you were for him as you take his cock so well, buried deep in you to warm him up.

Eased you were on him, all the goodness of your weight rest heavy on him, but it was taking all of your restraint to not chase the itch you were aching to burn in your core. Trying to focus on the cold of the room instead of the heat beginning to get thick between you two, sweat rolling down on your skins, the pounding of your heart. Trying to mute it all away as you slowly slid up your grasping palms on his arms to his biceps, wrinkling his dress shirt as you fists on them.

"This is torture, you know." You breathe, having couldn't bear it.

A low rumble thrums from Nanami's chest, his eyes opening slowly to look at you. "One which I enjoy truly." A little tug of his lips showing as he says. While he begins to slid his hands beneath your shirt and gently fondle your fat tummy, the sheet of sweat wetting his skin.

You inhale a hiss softly from the feel of his big hands fondling you against the burning goodness in your cunt swallowing his cock deeply. "I can see that." You hardly spoke. You couldn't find the push to even glare at him.

Nanami laughs a little, keeping his eyes on you. "Angel." He spoke then, breathing it out softly as he grazes his knuckles on your cheek and you lolled against it, your eyes closing for a moment--before you gently hold that wrist of his, opening his closed hand and nestled your cheek onto his palm.

His eyes almost shines. His breath flowing in deep in his mouth.

A reminiscing moment flashes fleetingly in his memories.

"So," Gojo hisses with a low laugh, gently swirling his glass of alcohol. Geto rolls his eyes as he chugs his own, already knowing where the first conversation of their night will lead. "You wanna tell us about her?" He lightly grins.

It has been a month of you and him being together, though with the two of his trusted friends have known of it--nothing has been said from Nanami himself. With the exception of the said best friends or more so lovers gossiping to themselves about it, of course. And not that Nanami didn't know about it anyway.

"What's there to tell about?" Nanami responds simply. He wasn't about to tell them how he's been always wanting and needing of you. The gallery in his phone filled with the pictures you send him randomly, images of your smiles, many of trivial things you come across in your day, and many of him that ones which you take of. The many sections of his wallet tucked with coupons and receipts from the cafes and bakeries you two go to. Each and every pieces he finds and come across has him reminding of you whenever. That it's been difficult to keep himself from smiling to only the thought of you.

It's been difficult to keep it difficult.

Geto laughs as his stubborn lover scowled at Nanami, no doubt that his piercing blue eyes were glaring behind his glasses against Nanami's ever calm ones. Geto pours himself another shot of their bottle of alcohol before speaking up then. "Humor him, Kento. He's been nothing but a pester to me about the subject." He tells, ever amused. "Though of course I'm not saying I ain't curious as well nor it hasn't been entertaining me."

Nanami only tuts his head aside, almost rolling his eyes, not at all surprised about it. His eyes reflects through his glasses against the thick crystallized rock that was filled with scotch, still untouched. It would only make the burn in his heart more hurtful.

It's addicting.

Yet indeed—what is there to say? It seems that it wasn't only his friends he's been avoiding of speaking about his situation.

He was....brave enough to let himself say yes in the beginning, though the more he delve in farther—of course, the remnants of his....fear was still there and surfacing every now and then. But who wouldn't be having needles tearing their seams as they sail through uncharted waters?

As suave he is, Nanami downs his drink. The lovers wait for him to speak with a knowing and fond smile. The coldness of the drink did nothing against the scorch of its essence, and more so your being etched in him. It drags so heavy in his mind. Every fiber, down to the littlest of nerves. It's so good.

Nanami looks down at his now empty glass, tightening his fingers around it as he sees them tremble. The burn in his throat there as he speaks. "She's....the one." God, even his lips were shaky. "She's her. Everything."

He laid down his glass on the table, exhaling gently as deeply from his mouth—the weight in his chest not changing nonetheless. And when he sits back, looking to his friends again, the silence with the three of them so heard; Gojo and Geto had such loving smiles on their faces.

Nanami uncontrollably laughs a breathless smile as he looks down. He was blinding. Ever in awe they were; Gojo had remove his glasses, letting his bared eyes admire his friend, with Geto sliding his palm up on his mouth, tears threatening to seep from the revelation.

They were so happy.

And he still is if not even so much more. Never mind the heated situation you were both in the moment. Nanami, with his other hand from your stomach slowly went to him and up to his chest, all while he held your other and laid it upon his chest.

Your eyes opened when he does, the pound of his heart hitting against your palm, echoing against your own. When you looked at his eyes, you almost gasped—the fingers laying on his chest suddenly twitching. Every little thing, he catches.

Such things he never thought he'd be doing, much less feel—yet there he is; declaring what he was beginning to yearn for. Offering his heart. "For you" You could have cried right then and there. "If you'll have me." He murmured, tangling your fingers together while he keeps you feeling his heart beat.

And with your tears spilling out after all, there comes yourself surrending to the currents.

If you'd have daydreamt of this kind of moment before, you would have laughed in the absurdity of it all.

And you were, but not alone. There you were laughing in breathless tears with him, basking in the love you were both making of your bodies in his office.

Nanami stays in his paradise.

[fairyhaos]

. ˚ in my arms

requested by @cinnamoroxie : seungkwan legit so good when you’re having a panic attack, he’ll sit down w you and rub your back, go thru breathing exercises, and also hes such a good listener 💔

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, hurt/comfort, established relationship

word count: 1792

warnings: descriptions of panic attack/ meltdown

notes: if someone knows where to find a seungkwan then pls hmu i need one asap actually

summary: seungkwan has always admired your ability to keep calm, but when the moment comes that you need someone to fall into, he'll always be ready to offer his arms.

You've been locked away in your room for several hours now, and Seungkwan is more than a little worried. 

It's early June, and exams are in full swing. In the weeks of revision leading up to this, he's seen you be relatively calm, perhaps a little more snappish and tense than usual, but still rather put together and composed. 

Your composure, your ability to not dissolve into an inconsolable ball of stress while preparing for exam weeks, is something that Seungkwan is still so in awe of.

However, that doesn’t mean you don’t have meltdowns of your own.

He’s seen them before—the aftermath of them, that is, after having come home to you surrounded by your friends on the couch, watching ‘Legally Blonde’ for the twentieth time with swollen eyes and a sniffly nose and a smile on your face. You never like to talk about it afterwards, but he knows. 

Seungkwan can recognise the post-breakdown signs. Sometimes he gets like that too.

But even so, he’s never been there to witness you going through it. As the minutes tick by, with you barely even having come out of your room once since this morning, it’s safe to say his worry has gone from just a little to rather extreme.

That’s why right now, he’s standing outside your door, a plate of biscuits in his hands. He’s been here for several minutes now, just staring at the door, wondering whether he should knock or go in.

He respects your unspoken want for some personal space today, but if that personal space manifests itself as self-quarantining and possibly driving you to your own insanity, then he’s not quite sure if he should respect that.

He’s still outside your door, just staring at the painted wooden structure—it’s a nice white, maybe a little yellowed with age, but still nice—when the door suddenly swings open, and he’s met with your surprised face.

“Kwan?”

Seungkwan blinks, and then softens, seeing the way your hair is all messed up and your shoulders are sagged with exhaustion, holding up the plate like a peace offering. “Hi baby. I come with hugs and cookies. Would you care for some?”

Your eyes immediately go to the plate and then to his face, and something in your eyes looks like it’s trembling. His own eyes immediately widen, concerned.

“Y/N? Y/N, love, are you okay?”

And then, abruptly, you burst into tears.

He’s stepping towards you instantly, one hand automatically coming up to cradle the back of your head as you hold a hand over your mouth, sinking to the floor. As you go down, he goes down with you, and he sets down the plate, not caring if the cookies fall and get crumbs all over the floor, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you to his chest.

You’re trying to muffle your sobs into your hand, and that just breaks his heart. Seungkwan rocks you from side to side, making soft hushing noises.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay,” he says quietly. “I’m here. I’m here for you.”

He has one hand in your hair, the other wrapped around your back, soothingly rubbing up and down your side. He’s whispering in your ear, telling you he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere, that it’s okay to cry. 

And eventually, you make a soft wailing sound, and the hand comes away from your mouth and you cry into his shoulder.

It makes Seungkwan tear up, just a little, hearing the utterly devastating sounds you’re making. You grip him as if he’s your last lifeline, fists shaking through handfuls of his shirt, and he knows that he’d never leave you, even if he were able to.

Not when you were like this. Never like this.

Not ever.

You’re still crying, still wetting his shoulder with your stress, but now you’re making hiccupping noises, trying to talk, and he’s softly telling you that it’s okay, but you continue trying anyway.

“I’m just— I— Kwan, I’m going to fa—ail—” and then the rest of your sentence is incomprehensible, melting into more tears.

You sound so broken, like you’ve been standing on the edge of a cliff for far too long and have finally been pushed. He feels like he’s been pushed with you, his heart swooping worriedly in tandem with yours, and he just hugs you harder.

“No, no, baby, you’re not,” he says, but you just shake your head rapidly, crying. “Listen to me, you’re going to be okay. I promise.”

“N—No, I’m—I can’t do it, I c—can’t do it,” you sob, words fragmented and exhausted. “It’s too hard, I’m n—not good enou—gh.”

You’re breathing rapidly now, big breaths that sound shallow, shaking uncontrollably in his hold.

Seungkwan faintly registers that you’re both still kneeling in the doorway, and as you begin hyperventilating in his arms, he unwraps himself from around you, holding onto your hand and pulling you to your feet, guiding you into your room and onto your bed.

Your eyes are red with exhaustion and now with tears, and you look like a small child as you just let Seungkwan drag you onto the bed, cheeks wet and frame hunched and meek, trembling violently. It makes Seungkwan’s heart hurt, aching to make you feel better.

“Breathe for me,” Seungkwan says, sitting cross-legged opposite you. “Y/N, it's okay, darling, breathe for me.” He takes your hands, trying to get you to look at him. “You can do it, love, do this for me.”

You don’t look like you’re fully in the present, eyes unfocused, swaying even as you continue to sob uncontrollably, shaking. He cups your cheeks, his hands a little cool on your overheating face, and it makes you drag your gaze back to him, hiccupping and breathing erratically.

“Y/N, you’re with me, aren’t you?” he says, gently, smiling. The tears continue to pool in your eyes, but you're looking at him, at least. “Don’t worry, love. You’re doing okay.”

That makes the tears pool faster, the hiccups taking over again as you try to speak. “I’m n—not, I’m really not—”

“Yes, you are,” Seungkwan says firmly. “You are. Shh, it’s okay. Breathe for me, darling. I’ll do it with you. In…” He breathes in exaggeratedly, holding it for a few moments, and then breathing out. “And out. And again. In… and out.”

He breathes exaggeratedly slowly, puffing his chest and then deflating several times. It takes a while for you to join him, but eventually you do, and his hands are now on your jawline, fingers against your pulse, your hands around his wrists. 

“There we go,” he says gently, smiling, as your breath syncs with his. “You’re doing so well, Y/N. My wonderful, wonderful Y/N.”

He breathes in deeply a few more times, until you’re no longer looking in danger of hyperventilating, and then he relaxes, simply holding you. The tears still fall, sticky and aching and staining your face with worry, but at least your breathing is steadier, even if it’s still a little shaky.

Seungkwan leans forward until his forehead touches yours. “I’m here,” he says, softly, in the same way he’s been saying it constantly ever since you opened the door. “I’m here for you.”

“Kwan,” you whisper, small and trembling, “I’m going to fail, I’m really going to fail—”

“Nonsense,” he says instantly, before you can work yourself up into another meltdown. “You won’t. I promise you, you really won’t. Look how hard you’ve been working, my love. You won’t fail.”

Your fingers tighten over his wrist, just a little, and you fall into him, burying your face into his chest, and he wraps his arms around you, natural. Protective.

“You don’t know that.”

“But I know you,” Seungkwan returns. “I know my hardworking, intelligent Y/N. You try your best, at anything at all, and even if you might not let yourself rest sometimes, it’s because you’re working so hard to be the best you can be. At the end of the day, your best is all you’re able to do, and that’s completely fine.”

You don’t say anything for a moment, still buried into his shirt. “You sound like Minghao.”

That makes him chuckle a little, wrapping his arms tighter around you. “Well, sometimes Minghao has a point. Even if he sometimes spouts gibberish, there are occasions where he says words of gold.”

“Like that time he told you to meditate because you might have ‘anger issues’?”

“The point is,” Seungkwan says, ignoring you, and it makes you snuffle a small laugh into his chest. “The point is, you’re doing well. You might not feel like it, but you are. I know hard work when I see it, and you’ve gone above and beyond.”

You just hum in response, and he can tell that you don’t believe him.

He smooths your hair back, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear. “Maybe you don’t believe me, but it’s true. You’re my wonderful Y/N, and I’m going to cherish you in all the ways you deserve, and you deserve to know how wonderful you really are.”

You whine a little, embarrassed and pleased, and he chuckles. “Stop, you’re making me shy.”

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Seungkwan says after a moment. “Always. So there’s no need to push yourself until you’re falling over the edge, okay? I can bring you away from the cliff safely, with no one being pushed.”

Seungkwan doesn’t know where the weird metaphor comes from, and he expects you to laugh and comment on it. Instead, you just hum again, nuzzling further into him, and your next words are a little muffled, but he hears you all the same.

“I love you.”

“I love you,” Seungkwan returns, instantly, because he does, and you should know that. He hopes you know just how much he really, truly loves you.

There’s silence then, save for the sound of the birds twittering in the distance and the AC running practically everywhere in the house, but with you in his arms the rest of the world has ceased to exist, narrowing down to just you.

You lift your head after a moment, and he smiles down at you, devastatingly soft, gently dabbing some of the drying tears away from the corners of your eyes.

“You know you’ll always be able to find comfort here, right?” Seungkwan checks, speaking into the silence, and you tilt your head confusedly. Your eyes are still red, still tired, but there’s light in them now, light that was lit by his love for you.

“Where?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your forehead, drawing a little heart on your cheek with his fingertip. “Right here. In my arms.”

fics tags: @jeonghanis ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @minhui896 ,, @bunnyiix ,, @slytherinshua ,, @haowrld ,, @belladaises ,, @moonlitskiiies ,, @cinnamoroxie ,, @butiluvu ,, @zozojella ,, @kawennote09 ,, @thedensworld ,, @a-wandering-stay ,, @abibliolife ,, @doublasting ,, @wonranghaeee ,, @icyminghao

[lightseoul]

cw. gn!reader, depressed reader (but this doesn't rlly discuss themes of depression), pro-hero!katsuki, established relationship, aged-up

word count. 0.6k words

It was his words, the way they lingered in the air—making it even harder to breathe, that brought you to finally, finally tilt your head up and look at him.

But it was his face, and every bit of raw emotion written all over it, that destroyed and led your walls crumbling down.

“Say something, Y/N. Please.”

You look at the wall clock again, unable to handle his gaze.

Bakugou takes a cautious step closer. Your breath hitches despite all efforts in steeling yourself, only watching him as he reluctantly reaches for your hand, only to pull back regrettably in seconds.

How did everything come to this?

“Sorry. I just—” He starts, stumbling with his words. You can’t believe what you’ve reduced him to. “—I just need you to tell me what I can do to help.”

“This is why I didn’t want to tell you,” you mumble to yourself.

At that, Bakugou’s eyebrows furrow even more. You sigh, darting your eyes away from him, exhausted.

Of this conversation.

Of hiding from him.

Of everything.

“I already told you, Kats,” you shake your head, “it’s not your job to fix me.”

“So, what?” he spits back, the all-too-familiar anger finally bleeding into his tone. “Are you saying I should just fucking leave you to go through all this alone until this swallows you up completely?”

“Yes,” you exclaim exasperatedly. And on that note, one emotion of his becomes finally clear enough for you to identify.

Hurt.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Some twisted part of you—the part that wants Bakugou to keep on fighting—wishes he’d bark out another response.

Another rebuttal.

Another retort.

Anything to prove you wrong.

But it doesn’t come.

When you look up again from your clenched fists, Bakugou’s head is bowed in what looks so much like defeat.

And despite him being the most strong-willed person you know, his shoulders are sagging in what you can only assume is frustration.

Hell, you’d be equally frustrated as well, but you weren’t at the receiving end, and your end was a whole different story—one you just can’t brush aside despite your tendency to suppress all personal, unwanted feelings.

When he finally lifts his head to face you, his eyes are bloodshot.

“I love you, Y/N,” he starts, voice uncharacteristically quiet. “And I’ve been the damn luckiest person alive to be in love with you.”

He reaches out and takes both of your hands in his.

You don’t break away from his grasp.

“So you have to give me a chance to take this in and plan how to get through this with you.”

“But that’s the thing, Katsuki,” you smile, willing the tears to stay where they are. “I love you, and I just can’t sit back and watch myself drag you down with me.”

You clench your eyes closed, finally letting the tears fall down.

“You deserve better than that.”

At that, Bakugou opens his mouth to protest, but before he can say something in retaliation, you withdraw your hands from the warmth of his calloused yet oh-so-familiar ones, and dash for the door.

You hear his broken voice call out your name, but you don’t dare look back.

I’m doing this for him, you chant in your head as you run, turning another block, and then another, getting further away from your shared apartment.

And the person you would’ve wanted to keep on calling ‘home’.

a/n. fun fact: i was going thru my files and found this WIP which i wrote at 16 for another fandom. i edited it a bit and made it sound like bakugou and here we are lmao

tagging. @katsukis1wife @rinalou @loverboyrin @brunnetteiwik

[000-pawz]

i loveee when u say "order up" when u answer asks or when u post it's so cute 😭 but!!! speaking of sungho covering his face,, yk how u said he wouldn't fight against you even though he's so strong and could overpower you? i think that's part of the reason he covers his face so much during sex, like ik he covers his face regularly but during sex i feel like he'd do it even more cuz not only is he shy and vulnerable but he's also needing to do something with his hands or he will go insane so he covers his face or grabs onto your arms if you'll let him. i feel like he also covers his face when he's overwhelmed, like if you're edging him or smth and he's just squirming under u he'd cover his face to try and pull himself together 😞 also more himbo sungho!! the "you want to ride me?" is soooo him, i feel like he always repeats what you say to himself as if he's trying to confirm what you said so that it'll process through his brain, like he's sorting thru files to find the correct one, if you're like "such a good boy" he'll smile and be like "im a good boy?!" and he absolutely is 😞😞

IM FALLING TO MY KNEES RN!!!! biting my fist tears streaming down my cheeks i need to dom this man so bad its unreal

you're so right about him needing something to do with his hands!!! he'll instinctually reach for you when he feels too good, but if you make him moves his hands, he'll cover his face or grab the sheets :( he might even run them over his own body, whining because he's so overwhelmed... if you're feeling nice enough, he'd like it when you lace your fingers with his, stroking his hand with your thumb to ground him so he can still communicate with you!!! and he also likes to hug you if you're edging him so he can hide away in the crook of your neck, his hands shaking against your skin as he tries not to cum <3333

if you call him a good boy, the first thing he'll do is blink dumbly at you and then repeat it to himself because!! you called him a good boy!!!! he might even go "am i? am i doing good?" just to hear you say it again and again because your voice gets stuck on a loop in his head and all he can think about is being good for you!!! he's so precious :(((

[guardian-angel12]

Was going thru my drafts that admittedly have collected dust and found these next scenes from a fic I barely remember just remember the author dropped it.

Anyways I had the following labeled as the best and worst scenes in the book (emotionalistic-wise that is)

{Best☺️}:

“Uh,” Peter begins, and he flushes slightly. “We got you a present.”

“It was Pete’s idea,” Kraglin offers, pulling a small holopad out of pocket. He holds it out.

Yondu takes it from him with a smirk. “The hell is this?”

“We visited the Galactic Records office, and…well.” Peter gestures to the holopad.

Yondu’s eyes drop to the screen, and any trace of a smirk is wiped from his face. His eyes widen and his jaw drops. Upon the screen are two Galactic Identification Record certificates. They read:

Kraglin Obfonteri-Udonta

Peter Jason Quill-Udonta

Yondu just stares, and stares. He’s having a hard time processing it. Udonta. They…they changed their names. To mine. They’re…they’re mine. They’re my boys. Official-like. His mouth opens and closes to acknowledge the gift, say something, say anything, but nothing comes out, so he just presses a fist over his mouth. The longer he looks at the holopad, the more his throat tightens, and the harder it is to hold back the prick of tears in his eyes.

“I think we broke him,” he hears Quill whisper, and his voice shakes him out of his trance.

{worst😭}:

"C-Cap?"

Yondu whirls, his heart turning to ice as he tears his eyes away from the windshield before him. "Kraglin?"

Half of Kraglin's arm has dissolved into dust, and a gasping cry of no dies on Yondu's lips as he lunges for his First Mate, bashing the button that takes the ship into autopilot. The man's left arm is still solid, and clenches, terrified, into his duster. "Cap'n?" Kraglin's voice is hoarse, his eyes wide and wild with fear.

Yondu can't say anything; his mouth has gone dry, his heart pattering like an Orloni's, but he reaches down and cups his eldest son's face in one hand. He feels the man's body getting lighter by the second, and he struggles to maintain eye contact and not look down, not look down to see his son's legs disappearing into ash to float away.

And then he's gone. Just - gone.

Yondu's fingers remain outstretched, as if trying to catch the last of what remains of Kraglin, and his hands being to shake violently. They'd held Kraglin just moments before. He stares around him, dazed. What...what happened to my boy? What just happened? His thoughts, still reeling from shock, begin to twist into a deep and burning rage. What - what did Thanos DO?

[bluespiritpaintedlady]

Chapter 8! 😊

There’s a couple songs in this chapter but I’m also gonna include a small excerpt. Songs first!

From: Love Endures by bluespiritpaintedlady on Ao3.

Ok, next! :) This is a portion of Mitsuya’s grief after Draken’s death. He’s been wallowing in sadness for about 6 months and then this happens…

———————————————-

Friday, December 30th, 2010

———————————————-

Who can say why this one day was different than the last 200 or so had been. But whatever the reason, its outcome was the fog lights finally coming on. He finally started to see a small path thru the detritus.

It was the middle of the day. He sat at his living room table, crumpled up papers littering the floor all around him. Tears were in his eyes and he had a pained look on his face. God, I can’t do this. I can’t, Draken. I can’t find my way thru all this shit… His head drops into his hands and his shoulders start shaking as the sobs take over.

“How….how do I get thru this?”, he speaks out to the room.

All is quiet for a while, nothing but his sniffles and little muffled cries can be heard.

“Remember who you are, Mitsuya. I know it hurts but don’t let it change you.”

He perks up a little bit, his eyes wide. His cheeks are streaked with tears.

“Oh my God, I’m finally losing my mind. I’ve finally cracked just like Mikey.”

“If you give up, if you let this take you out then every battle we fought will be for nothing. All the deaths, all the struggles, all for nothing…”

“Draken?” He looks around. “Is this really happening? Am I…? What???”

He sits in silence for what seems like an eternity. He finally decides to take the plunge and just go for it. I mean he really couldn’t get much more broken then he already was, so why not, right?

“Draken…?”

Another long silence ensues.

“Are, are you r-really there, bro? I…don’t know…ugh. I’m so fucking stupid. What am I DOING?!”

He brings his fist down hard on the table, he accidentally hits it at a funny angle on the edge and the pain reverberates up his bone all the way to his elbow.

“Ow, fuck! Motherfucker. You know what? I’m done with this shit. I’m not crazy. I’m NOT crazyyy!”

He rocks back and forth, his arms wrapped around his legs, as he says it several more times to himself.

“Mitsuyaaaa! Listen”.

“Alright, what the fuck, man?”

He gets up to his feet quickly and starts looking wildly around the room. He can’t quite tell if the voice is originating within his mind or in the room around him, but either way he’s thoroughly freaked out now.

“Is this real?”

“Stop questioning everything, Mits. Just let it be.”

And for some unexplained reason he feels a peace wash over him. Like some calming presence had just put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He could almost feel the indentation of the fingertips. He could almost feel the breath in the room.

The presence…the presence!

Maybe he was going crazy but he didn’t care anymore. Draken was here with him. He wasn’t gone after all.

“Draken, where have you been all this time?”

“You know where I’ve been, Mits. I had to leave.”

“No. No, you didn’t HAVE TO.��

He feels sharp biting anger rise up in his throat. It tasted of bile.

“You have to let the past go.”

“What? You want me to let you go? No. I can’t. I can’t!”

He grabs his head with his hands and his fingers grab tight hold of the hair there.

“The real Draken would never ask me to let him go.”

“I didn’t say that. But you need to let what happened go. It will poison your heart. You remember what I told you when I died?”

“About taking care of Mikey?”

“The other thing…”

“Following my dreams?”

“Ok, the other other thing”, he chuckles.

His soul sighs with joy to hear his best friend’s laugh again.

“I don’t know, Draken…”

“I told you that you were the best of us.”

“But, I’m noooot. Look at me! I’m a worthless piece of shit. A total fucking loser. I can’t do what you want me to do. I can’t find a way thru this…this…ohhhh Goddd…I can’t. I’m letting everyone down. I’m doing the one thing I promised I would never ever do.”

“Mitsuyaaaa”, the voice says kindly. “You are not any one of those things. You are just, for the first time since you were 9, not putting the weight of everyone you know onto your shoulders. You are lost in the abysmal oceans of grief. You’re drowning and you just need someone to throw you a life-jacket, man.”

Nothing else is spoken for a moment.

“I’m sorry it took this long but I was attending to some other matters and you weren’t ready yet, anyway.”

“Not ready? I needed to suffer some more? For real???”

“Noooo, you needed to be at a point where you were ready to accept it all. And you’ve only JUST begun to do that. But you must, Mitsuya. You have to accept that I’m gone and instead of letting it weaken and destroy you, you must take it, like you’ve done with every other awful thing in your life, and let it make you all the stronger.”

“Every time you think about giving up, giving in, I want you to think of me. And let it strengthen you. Make everything we’ve gone thru worth it. Because if, in the end, you get taken out…it would just be too sad to handle. You gotta be strong now, Mitsuya. I know it’s not fair. I know you deserve a normal life, a blessed life, a life of comfort and ease, but it’s not the life you were given. Not the life any of us were given. But do you want to know what I learned?”

“What, Draken?”

“I had a pretty shitty life, right?”

“Yeah, pretty awful.”

“You did, too. We were both abandoned… We both had to grow up real fast. We both found comfort and refuge in a group of friends, and bikes, and fighting.”

“We didn’t get the life we would’ve wished for or that we deserved. But I remember what you used to say…Don’t hate the situation you were born into, right?”

“Yeaaahh…”

“Well, I got to thinking after that… We don’t have normal, we don’t have tons of money, life isn’t easy…I know these things, you know these things. But then I finally figured something out. We may not have normal, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful or amazing in ways that normal could never reach, man. We don’t have a lot of money, never have and yet we are fuckin rich. Look at all the people you have around you, that you love and who love you. All the money in the world doesn’t compare to that. And yeah, we may not have it easy…God knows it hasn’t been for so many of us, but that doesn’t mean it’s not completely 100% worth it, Mitsuya.”

“An easy life leads to weakness, laziness, complacency. We haven’t been given a life that can have any of that in it. And if we aren’t going to whine and complain about the life we have been given, then we gotta accept it, Mits. We gotta embrace it, all of it. We can’t allow ourselves to be consumed like the “normal” people out there. We HAVE TO rise above.

You made a promise to me… are you gonna keep it?”

“I know…I’m tryin.. I am.”

“Get up and make a move, Mits. Stop wallowing. Accept and embrace…”

Everything grew silent then. He heard a few honks and a siren blare far off in the distance, but that was it.

“Draken? Are you still there? Ugh…I’m such an idiot… I’m alone and I’m talking to myself.”

Then a strong current of wind rushed at him from out of nowhere, like a small tornado had entered the room. It seemed to carry a warning in its arms.

“Don’t forget who you arreee…”

And then it was gone, and he was completely alone again. He looked around wild-eyed once more.

“Dr-draken?” His head flew up from the table, the name still on his lips. The right side of his face was flattened and there was a pile of drool beneath where his mouth had been. It had seeped onto the page of his notebook. The sketch on it was ruined.

But he didn’t care about the sketch at the current moment. All he could think about now was what had just happened to him. He felt a chill go through him. He remembered every word, clear as day, as if it had just happened, face to face.

“It was ju-just a dream? What the fuck? But it seemed so real…”

The experience left him pretty shook up for the rest of the day but when he woke up the next day, some kind of shift had happened within him. He felt it, noticed it, but he couldn’t describe it, even if he’d wanted to. However, the important thing was, he finally could see. It wasn’t a wide path that was visible now, but it was enough to walk, even if just one small step by one small step. Hell, even if it was crawling, at least he could finally see it… The way forward.

[hamstringy]

anyways gotta love amplified pain syndrome for the diagnostic criteria of “may be caused by trauma (physical or mental) or may not be”

so anyways what turned ur life completely on its head? mine is a quad strain :) not yknow a torn acl or anything like the coaches said

[with-love-from-hell]

Melancholia

{part Six}

Fandom: Obey me!

Genre: Angst

Written for F!Mc

WC: ~2k

Music Accompaniment (Let You Down thru Heart's A Mess)

CW:  Simeon is an asshole in this chapter, manipulation, negative self-talk, self-blame, anxiety, suicidal thoughts, displays of verbal aggression and posturing, swearing.

>> Though I have a Masters Degree in Psychology, I am not your therapist. If you have experienced any form of depression or suicidal thoughts, and are in need of help, please utilize the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, NIMH helpline, or the SAMHSA helpline. <<

You can find any future parts by searching the tag #Vermillion Skies or #Melancholia on my blog! I have added it to all parts!”

Series Masterlist

“Mc...” Simeon breathed the words out, almost inaudible to your ears. His movements were robotic as he moved forward a few steps, pausing when Barbatos stood in front of you. 

“I warn you, Simeon.” Barbatos hissed into his ear, gripping his shoulder tightly. His claws extended ever-so slightly, adding enough pressure to make him wince. “Though I will be in the hall, I will not hesitate to tear you apart should you cause any sort of harm to the young mistress.” 

Simeon gulped, unable for form a response. Instead he indicated his understanding by nodding, choosing not to question Barbatos on why he thought he would ever intentionally harm you. 

Barbatos stole a glance back at you, bowing slightly before exiting the dormitory. After the door softly closed, the two of you were left alone in the dim light of the living room. Simeon stood, shifting his weight awkwardly while you tried to think of where to even start. 

“H-how are you doing, Simeon?” You murmured softly, offering him a gentle smile. 

Simeon snapped his eyes to meet yours. “Oh...I...good! I’m doing good.” The lie slipped right through his teeth with ease. He didn’t want to lie to you, but he couldn’t bring himself to come out and say he had been doing terrible since his fall. He didn’t want to bring that shame to your feet. 

“I’m glad to hear...” you pause for a moment, chewing on your words. “I’m sorry Simeon...for everything. I didn’t realize-” 

Simeon let out a loud laugh, cutting off your words. As he calmed himself and returned his gaze to the thin line on your lips, his smile fell. You were serious. 

“Wait...what are you sorry for?” Simeon sat on the chair across from you, leaning forward with intrigue at what you were going to say. 

You rub your arm. “I...well...I didn’t realize that all this time you had feelings for me...like, romantically...” 

Simeon averts his eyes as embarrassment crosses your features. He thought his intentions may have been nuanced, but to have no idea that he adored you so much?

“If I would have known, I would have told you how I felt sooner.” You bite your lip, trying to mull over what to say.

Simeon’s eyes lit up at your words, again locking onto your eyes. Hope filled his heart as he leaned in further, expecting you to give him a confession of love. To his unfortunate shock, you proceeded with a gentle rejection. 

“I’m sorry to say, but I don’t share the same feelings for you, Simeon. I love you- but not like that. You were such a close friend, and I still want you to be. You mean a lot to me, and the last thing I want is to hurt you, but-” 

Simeon scoffed, resulting in your words dying on your tongue. “What are you saying? That despite all I’ve done for you, you’re casting me aside in favor of Lucifer?” 

You feel tears well in your eyes as you shake your head, confirming his fear. felt anger begin to radiate from his body. “Simeon, I-”

“No.” Simeon interrupts you, now rising from his seat and standing over you. “No...You can’t be serious, Mc.”

The air in the room felt thick, and you could see that Simeon’s fists were balled in rage, shaking slightly. You gulped, shrinking down into yourself and gripping the cushions for stability. You knew rejecting Simeon would be hard, but this was not going how you expected. You stared at the floor in front of you, trying to calm the anxiety you were feeling at Simeon’s reaction. 

“I love you with my whole being, Mc.” Simeon’s voice raised slightly, approaching the volume of a yell. “More than anything or anyone in all the three realms. How could you not feel the same? Why the hell would you chose to be with someone who would treat you with such disgrace? I fell for you, and you still say it’s not enough?” 

“Simeon, It’s not that-” 

“Then what is it, Mc?!” Simeon hisses, his boney wings protruding from his back. They looked less horrific than before, but still startled you a bit as they appeared. Simeon’s incredulity threatened to bring you to tears as he continued berating you for your relationship Lucifer, painting the demon you loved as brutish, abusive, and insensitive, when you knew he was everything but in your relationship with him. Your mind drifts away through Simeon’s expression of hurt, wondering now if Lucifer had been right to be worried and lash out at you for wanting to talk things through with Simeon. 

“-I even saved your fucking life that night- ME! I was the one there trying to stop you from bleeding out, while all he did was go out on a killing spree to feed his own ego!” Simeon snarled, pacing around the room as the anger began to transform into full-blown wrath, reminiscent of his demeanor the night of his fall. “Lucifer just wants to own you, Mc! He doesn’t give a fuck about you!” 

“ENOUGH.” You feel your body tremble with a mixture of anger, hurt, and anxiety. Standing up to face him, you finally snap. You weren’t sure why his final words made you so angry- perhaps it’s because your own thoughts tried to convince you that at all times, and hearing it said by someone else scared you. You grit your teeth, breath heaving as you started the now fully-demonized Simeon down. His cerulean eyes blazed with anger, and you were sure your irises were lit with a passionate fire to stand up for your relationship. “How dare you say something like that. I can’t believe-”

“I’m not done!” Simeon hissed back, now close enough to stand toe-to-toe with you. “You need to listen to me!” 

Barbatos walked briskly into the room, hearing the sudden uptick in volume. He stood back and watched you stand your ground, feeling proud of you. He began to wonder how Lucifer would feel, seeing you so strong in that moment. Perhaps it would influence how tightly he holds his reigns on your protection- seeing you able to hold your own against a being much more powerful than you.

“No, you need to listen to me now.” You poked his chest, causing Simeon to take a few steps backward in surprise. “I didn’t ask you to save me, Nor did I do anything to make you have feelings for me! I didn’t ask for any of this!”  

Simeon stares at you, breathing hard. For now, he chooses to stay silent while you say your piece. 

“I don’t understand why you think I owe you for being there for me.” You hesitate, trying to hold back fresh tears. “that’s what being a friend is- it’s being there for people without expecting something in return...and if the only reason you saved my life is to try to get in my pants or something, I think that says more about you objectifying me than it does about how much I care for you.” 

Simeon had only ever seen you this angry at him during the night of the procedure, and he instantly began to regret the way he had been speaking to you. He knew deep down that you were right, and he hated himself for it.

Lucifer wasn’t treating you like a possession...He was. 

“I care about you Simeon, but I am able to make my own decisions- which is why I even came in the first place even though Lucifer told me to stay away!” You cross your arms, but remain standing tall, looking him directly in the eye. “Lucifer is important to me too though, and he’s the one I’ve chosen. I tried letting you down gently, but you need to get over it. I’ve made my choice- I don’t feel for you the same way I feel for him, and you need to accept that.” 

Simeon dropped his eyes to the floor, his boney wings folding down slightly in dejection behind him. 

“And just for the record,” you add as you turn away from him, “Lucifer does care about me- he cares a lot.” 

You approach Barbatos, ready to take your leave, when Simeon grasps your wrist, halting you in place. Barbatos takes a few steps forward, a low growl rumbling in his throat. You turn, preparing yourself for a fight, but the tension in your arms relax when you see Simeon’s tear-filled eyes staring back at you. 

“Please.” He murmurs. “I don’t have anything else left to live for if not for you.” 

Your shoulders slump slightly, feeling sorry for him. You take his hand in yours as he releases your wrist. “Then you need to find something else to make life worth it.” 

Simeon scrunches his face in confusion. “What do you mean?” 

You sigh, turning back to face him completely. “I don’t hate you, and I want to be friends, but I don’t think we can be until you learn to get over this. I need space from you...and I think it would be good for you too. But I can’t be the one to hold all of your emotions- and certainly not your life- in my hands.” 

“I don’t...”  Simeon’s chin trembles as he holds back more tears, making his ability to talk null. 

“You can text me every so often- I’ll be here for you...but...” You pause, turning to Barbatos to see his disapproving eyes at your offer to the former angel. “I can’t be there all the time. you need to build up more friendships around you other than just me, okay?” 

Simeon nods sadly, understanding your perspective. You give him a light hug before turning to leave, letting Barbatos guide you to the door with his hand placed protectively on your mid back. He glares at Simeon as he opens the door, ushering you out and leaving Simeon standing alone in the dorm. 

“Wait.” Simeon rushes forward just before the door closes on him. “W-wait...” 

You turn around and lock eyes with him. Tears still flowed from his eyes, but they had slowed some. You look at him expectantly, producing from him a hard swallow. 

“I...I’m sorry, Mc.” His voice is a murmur, but you could still hear it amongst the bustling Purgatory Hall walk-way. “For everything.” 

You offer him a weak smile. “I accept your apology, but I still need some time to take all of this in. We’ll talk again soon, okay?” 

Simeon nods once more as you take your leave, gliding down the hall effortlessly with the loyal butler at your side. He watched in agony as you left through a portal- presumably returning to the castle. As he reflected on the conversation, standing in the middle of the hall, he felt his chest aching. 

His heart felt as if it were being squeezed to the point of bursting...but it was turning to see two Angels paused at the opposite end of the Corridor, escorted by Diavolo and Lucifer, that made his heart completely burst with the devastating pressure the day had put on him. 

“Simeon, allow me to introduce two of your new roommates for the upcoming semester.�� Diavolo grinned, hoping that the change would be just what Simeon needed to get his act together. Lucifer merely stared past him, a displeased scowl on his face for having been forced into this predicament. 

“It’s been awhile.” Raphael muttered, offering Simeon a polite nod. 

Simeon couldn’t even bring himself to look at him- his eyes transfixed on the smaller angel at his side. Luke stared back at him, eyes filled with fear at what Simeon had become. The standoff persisted for what seemed like hours to them, until Luke’s voice broke the silence in a small squeak. 

“I...I can’t do this.” 

[set-phasers-to-whump]

"911, what's your emergency?"

prompt: self-done first aid

whumpee: john reese

fandom: person of interest

hi here's a brand new fandom from yours truly! i'm only halfway thru season 1 lol so this def won't be the strongest in terms of character. nonetheless i had fun exploring these guys and i hope you enjoy!

The knife plunges into his right shoulder, tearing through the fabric of his jacket and shirt. He feels blood immediately begin to flow down his arm. He strikes out with his left fist and hits his opponent in the chest. The man stumbles to the side, the blade still in his grip. It tears downwards through John’s skin before being pulled away. 

John follows him, the pain in his shoulder not more than a ping on the radar. He manages to get hold of the guy’s wrist this time, and with a swift movement the bones crunch in his grip. The man cries out, and John hits him in the side of the head hard enough to knock him out. 

Just like that, it’s over. He checks to make sure the man is really unconscious and then rifles through his pockets. He finds a wallet, which contains several credit cards, none of which are under the same name. There’s no driver’s license, and only $30 in cash. 

“Hey, Finch, I’ve got some names for you,” he says. 

There’s no response. 

He reaches up to touch his ear and realizes that his earpiece is gone, knocked out during the fight. 

He searches the ground for not more than a minute before he finds it - or what’s left of it. He puts the mangled device into his left pocket, then pulls his phone out of his right pocket with his injured arm. 

It hadn’t been causing him much trouble before, but now that the fighting is over and now that the arm has been moved, the pain is more present. He groans softly, but it’s nothing he can’t handle. At least today's suit is black, he thinks. The blood hardly shows up on the fabric. 

“Are you alright, Mr. Reese?” is the first thing Finch asks. 

“Just had a little run-in with a guy carrying a bunch of stolen credit cards.”

“I see. And he’s…?”

“Not dead. Unconscious in a back alley, but alive.”

“And you?”

“I’m not dead either.”

“Are you hurt?”

“I’ll be okay. I’m on my way back now. Want to start checking out the names on these cards?”

“Go ahead, Mr. Reese.”

He begins his trip back to the library as he reads off the names on the cards, phone pinned between his head and left shoulder. All the while he can feel blood steadily leaking out of the tear in his right shoulder. It’s starting to hurt even more now, a burning sensation that is very much familiar but still uncomfortable. 

He finishes reading the names after about a minute, then hangs up with a promise to Finch that he’ll return soon. He gets on a bus for a little while, but feels someone staring at him. He’s angled himself such that the rip in his jacket and the blood underneath it shouldn’t be visible - and a quick glance downwards confirms this - but he can’t shake the feeling that someone knows and so he decides to get off a few stops early. 

He’s alone with his thoughts as he walks the rest of the way to the library. They increasingly focus on the pain and on the dampness soaking through his jacket. The blood loss isn’t substantial enough to be worrying, but he can feel it nonetheless. The pain is more insistent, now, throbbing its way through his entire arm. He sucks in a deep breath and tries to ignore it. 

Eventually, he makes it back to the library, just as it begins to rain. A few drops of water, stained pink with blood, hit the pavement at his feet before he steps inside. 

He makes his way to the bathroom without catching sight of Finch, though he knows Finch knows he’s arrived. He carries himself normally, trying not to betray any signs of injury. He doesn’t need Finch to worry. 

The bathroom is well-stocked and incredibly spacious. It has an entire cabinet filled with the highest quality of medical supplies. He gathers what he needs and then drapes a dark-colored towel across the countertop, placing another on the floor beneath his feet in an effort to avoid staining anything. 

He carefully extricates himself from his jacket and shirt. The blood has turned nearly the entire right side of the latter bright red. It’s streaked across his skin beneath his clothes, too. The gash in his upper arm is clearly visible, jagged and dark and still steadily bleeding. Just from looking at it, he knows it’s going to be a pain in the ass to stitch up. He closes his eyes, takes a breath, and then begins. 

The first thing to do is clean the wound. For this, he sticks his arm into the shower and lets the warm water wash over it. It’s still bleeding by the time he finishes, but he manages to remove most of the dried blood from everywhere else. 

He carefully dries his right side off with yet another dark towel, which he then uses to apply pressure to the wound. 

After a few minutes, he pulls the towel away. It sticks slightly, which is an unpleasant sensation, but beneath it the bleeding has slowed significantly. Satisfied, John continues the process. 

A cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide is next. He dabs it over the wound and hisses softly at the stinging feeling, though he’s felt it many times before. Once he’s satisfied with his cleaning job, he rinses out the wound once more, this time with water from the tap. He then lets everything air-dry for several minutes, thinking all the while about what comes next.

This would be the stitches. He’s not looking forward to them in the slightest. In the first place, he’s right-handed, which means he’ll be doing this delicate work with his off hand. Secondly, the wound is in his shoulder, which isn’t the easiest of places to reach. 

Still, it’s nothing he can’t handle. He threads a needle. Both needle and thread are pre-sterilized and medical-grade, and he thinks back to his days of a bottle of vodka and a stolen sewing kit. This is a vast improvement in comparison. 

Once his shoulder is completely dry, he begins. He starts stitching at the top of the wound, pushing the needle through his skin as he takes a breath in. Once it’s through, he exhales, and then repeats the process. 

It’s slow-going and awkward and difficult. The angle is strange. His fingers are slick with blood and he is no longer able to ignore the pain. Still, it isn’t so bad. He does find himself longing for the aforementioned bottle of vodka, which, though it surely hadn’t been the best disinfectant, had definitely been a decent painkiller. 

There’s nothing to be done about the pain now, though. He’s got to finish these stitches before anything else. He eyes his progress. Two-thirds done. He takes a breath and pushes the needle through. 

At long last, he ties off and then cuts the thread. He washes off the stitches and pats them dry, and then just stands there, braced against the counter with his bloody left hand, and breathes. 

Once the pain fades slightly, he somewhat clumsily wraps the fresh stitches in gauze and then makes his way back to the medicine cabinet. He pulls it open, getting blood on the handle in the process, and finds a bottle of painkillers. He swallows them dry, then begins cleaning up. 

He washes his hands, puts all of the supplies back into their proper places, and wipes up all the blood he can find, which isn’t much, thanks to the towels he’d laid down. These go into a laundry hamper that is tucked into a corner.

He throws away his shirt and jacket - there’s nothing that can be done for them - and then comes to the realization that he doesn’t have any other clothes to put on. 

He thus steps out into the hallway in only his dress pants and shoes and hopes that Finch is otherwise occupied and won’t see him walking through the halls half-naked and very clearly injured. 

Of course this doesn’t happen. 

He turns a corner and nearly runs smack into Finch, who is standing in the middle of the hallway. 

“Were you planning on telling me that you were injured, Mr. Reese, or did you simply think I wouldn’t notice?”

He tries to formulate an answer. He knows Finch has eyes everywhere and had naturally figured that he’d find out, but he’d hoped that by not drawing attention to his injury Finch would understand that it isn’t anything severe. He’s more than used to dealing with injuries like this on his own, anyway. He doesn’t need Finch to be concerned about his ability to do the job. Doesn’t need Finch to be concerned about him, point blank. Doesn’t really know what to do with concern. 

“No, I knew you’d find out,” is all he says.

“Mr. Reese,” Finch starts, but then cuts himself off with a shake of the head. “I trust you know what you’re doing?”

John nods. 

“Can I also trust you to tell me if you begin feeling dizzy or faint?”

“Sure.”

“Then you may come and join me in parsing through our list of names and credit card numbers. Though perhaps you should put a shirt on first.”

John nods, and they split ways. He meets Finch at his computer a few minutes later, dressed in a fresh button-down shirt and jacket. 

“What are we looking at?” He pulls a chair over and settles down, peering over Finch’s shoulder in a way he knows the other man must find annoying. 

Finch says nothing about this, however. “Bank statements. Notice anything interesting?”

John looks over the numbers on the screen. “All of these cards have one identical charge.”

“But each individual charge was made at a different location.”

“Want me to go check them out?”

Finch turns in his chair and looks at him. “Just how long ago was it that you were stabbed, exactly?”

“Finch -”

Finch holds up his hand. “No, Mr. Reese. You were stitching yourself up not more than ten minutes ago. You can begin researching these locations on the computer. I’ll go investigate, if necessary.”

He wants to protest again. He’s completely capable of working. But the way Finch is looking at him makes it abundantly clear that he’s not going anywhere at the moment.

“Let yourself rest for just a little while, Mr. Reese,” Finch says. “The last thing I need is for you to injure yourself further.”

“I’ll be fine, Finch.”

“I know you will. You’ll be here. Now, you might as well get to work on those locations.”

And so he does.

thanks for reading! i feel like it's a little bit wonky but i'm tired and literally haven't had a break in my day longer than like 40 mins since 7:30 am so. this is how it's gonna be. hope you enjoyed!

[dilfwaynes]

hi!! can i request a hc of the batfam reaction of their eastasian!reader gf  experiencing racism? thank you <33

just a reminder if you took place in any involvement of asian hate block me rn bitch :)

a/n: i hope you enjoyed this anon, i tried to make it accurate without stepping over any boundaries since im not asian myself. if anyone finds any sort of this offensive pls dm me !!

warning ; racism, batfam beating hoes, mention of blood

parings : bruce wayne x asian!reader, jason tood x asian!reader, dick grayson x asian!reader, stephanie brown x asian!reader, tim drake x asian!reader, damian wayne x asian!reader

BRUCE WAYNE:

it’ll honestly take a minute for bruce to realize what happened

when first entering the store he took notice of the man glaring but brushed it off thinking it was directed towards him as bruce wayne

you however didnt really pay attention to the dirty looks being thrown at you

with bruce excusing himself to the restroom and makes a promise of a quick return, you wander around the area by yourself

it was all fine until a man approaches you, giving a fast glance at him before turning away. there was definitely something up with him

“you don’t belong here”

your head shot up at his words, looking around you to make sure he was talking to you

“excuse me?” you lift an eyebrow at him, knowing what he was hinting at

“you fucking heard me, you don’t belong here. go back to your country.”

you inch away as he steps closer,”you better back the fuck away..”

he simply gives a smug face only coming closer,”or what?” you tighten your jaw when he loosely lets out a slur, your fists clenched.

“or i dislocate your arm.”bruce’s voice rings out, deep in anger as his eyes flicker to you and scanning to see if you were ok physically.

the ugly bitch’s face pales when he realizes who’s your boyfriend. without hesitation bruce yanks him away from you, slamming him to the wall

demanding for a first and last name,  squeezing his neck when the guy stays quiet

shaking he gives in and tells, flinching when bruce slams him against the wall one last time before dropping him

“i guaranteed whatever poor status you do contain i’ll tear it completely, say goodbye to your job.” he grabs for your hand and brings you into him as you both walk away.

“i’m sorry i shouldn’t have left you alone, my fault,”he presses a kiss to your temple.”and please don’t think any worth of that garbage’s words.”

you shake your head,”he was just some lowlife, not worth thinking about.” you reply leaning into him.

he looked at you and could tell no matter what those words still hurt somewhat and it angered him to no end

no one deserved to hear that disgusting shit, especially not his girlfriend.

his eyes hardens but doesn’t push further to make you anymore uncomfortable than you probably already are

giving another kiss to the side of your head he makes a quiet promise to himself not to leave you alone anymore in public with disgusting people like that around

jason todd:

as soon as the slur leaves the guy’s lips jason’s fist collides to his jaw, no doubt   shattering it

you and jason were grabbing lunch at some restaurant slash bar since it was the first time in a few days jason was free

everything was okay until you got up to go to the bathroom and some guy bumped into you

jason watched with hardening eyes as you apologize instead of the guy who slammed into you

“watch where the fuck you’re going at.”

you fall shock at the word, staying in place

while jason is on his feet in no time, swinging to the asshole’s face

screams were heard as well as the sound of bones breaking from his fist impact, the guy stumbling to the floor

“you racist fucking prick that’s my girlfriend you ugly fuck,”lifting him by his shirt he grabs his face and turns him to you.”apologize to her before i break your fucking face.”

he quickly rambles apologizes, crying in fear or pain. most likely a mix of both

jaaon lets him go and gives him another punch, this time to the nose. finding satisfaction at the pool of blood now seeping out

jason grabs your hand and starts to lead you outside,”let’s go eat somewhere else and forget about this shithole.”

you barely had time to give a reaction to anything as everything happened so fast

“hey look at me, don’t listen to that worthless fuck and his fucked up mindset. i dont know what to say to comfort you since i never experienced anything like this.” he stops at the car, placing his hands onto your shoulders

you nod sighing lightly, you only wanted a simple lunch with your boyfriend but instead got hate crime for simply  breathing.

“it’s nothing i haven’t gone through before,”he shakes his head blue eyes filling up with rage.

“no one’s gonna be doing that anymore, or at least getting away with it while i’m around

DICK GRAYSON:

he was completely taken by surmise at the slur being thrown at you, as well as the fault of you being the root of the covid 19

but before he had any time to react you were already on your feet glaring,”the fuck you just called me you piece shit.”

before he could reply you already kneed him and punched him between the eyes, dick laughing at the cries of pain

“you want me to take over or you wanna handle it babe?”

even how badly he wanted to beat the shit out of the pos the choice was yours

you denied and wanted to handle this on your own

but everytime the guy tried to get up dick would just shake his head and tell him to stay down, or simply push him back down

eventually if you start going too far richards would pull you away and tell you hes not worth it

he understands your anger but he doesn’t want you to past a line you won’t recover from bc of some worthless grime

“c’mon, he’s not worth anymore of our time. lets go eat pizza.”

DAMIAN WAYNE:

swing first talk later

he’ll just look at guy for a few seconds with a blank face

then he’s literally knocking them out

will probably kick him into the wall or ground

u dont know if you wanna pull him away because you already the tabloids, or if you wanna let him continue to beating the guy

damian probably wouldn’t realize how much he beat the guy to a pulp until you’re tugging him away

nudging his neck with to your nose to try and calm him down

he’ll end the fight with spitting on him tbh

your face reddens with anger when your eyes met the racist bitch, enjoying the view of his blood on the floor

“racist piece of shit,” he hisses before finally turning his back brow still frowning with anger

unlike the others (mentioned) he also knows and experienced racism and understands your point view way more

and know bow to comfort you better tbh

afterwards he’ll talk to you and comfort you, as well as opening up about his racist encounters, as well as his mothers.

if you’re still upset about what happened some hours later he 100% offers to beat up the guy again

you laugh it off cos hes serious about doing detective work, finding the guy and beating him to a pulp

you thank him but deny his offer and settle to confiding into him and just telling him how your feelings

STEPHANIE BROWN:

“are you fucking serious right now bitch?”

steph deadpans staring at the girl who called you the slur with ease, going on about how you were the cause of corona and to go back to your country

shocked at the words, hearing all of this before but it still doesn’t fail everytime you hear them

turning to you and seeing the hurt on your face from the word, she quickly turns to seeing red

without a second thought she grabs the collar of the woman’s shirt

“you’re gonna fucking apologize to my girlfriend right now or i’m gonna slam your face into the floor and break it

you stay still, pleased at watching the girl shake in fear under steph as she chokes out a mesh of a shit rushed apologizes

stephanie throws her down to the ground after her third apologize

“are you okay?” she knew you weren’t but asking the question would lead into the stage of comforting you

you nod but go on to tell her that this isn’t the first or last time this will happen, but it still never fails to shock you

she frowns at your experiences and doesn’t quite know what to do to help since she never went thru anything like that

she offers to take you to your favorite restaurant and end the day in wayne manor watching whatever you wanted

smiling when you accept, pulling you in her and pressing a kiss on-top of your head

“dont worry i’ll beat any jackass that pulls any racist shit.”

TIM DRAKE:

i think he’ll be the less  violent one out of everyone

he would honestly be so disgusted and gross out at humanity and how the woman thinks shes superior just because she’s white

if it was a guy saying what was said, then he would probably hit them ngl

but he takes the higher road with the woman, belittling and ending her with his vocabulary

and you’re pretty sure that his words hurt her more than an actual punch would 

you laugh when he compares her built to a buffalo

he then goes on to a more education lean, explaining how skin tone has nothing to do with a person, and she should adapt to modern times and stop being a racist cunt

after he ends it he goes on to find out who she is and email/call her workplace to inform what kind of employee they have

probably also goes on to make sure she wont be hired anywhere else

comforts you alot and and will get you anything you want

prob gets you both milkshakes as you vent to him about today and other racist things said to you

hates how you have to go thru any of this for simply existing

the  incident opens his eyes and he starts talking to bruce about opening a charity for ‘stop asian hate’

would shy away from the press and say you both came up with the fund

u’ll dismiss that rq and tell everyone it was all tim’s idea

all the money goes people got assaulted and paying for any hospital bills or anything needed

[jungxk]

crush

filed under. i totally forgot i wrote this. also i like the name eunmi sue me 

notes. thank you to @lonelyending for reading thru this crusty story and making me feel good enough about it again to post it. also @suga-kookiemonster bc im pretty sure i sent u this like a year ago and u told me to post it it but....i forgot abt it shdgjsgd. writing/life in general has been hard recently so pls accept this kookfic to hold yous over until i update just one

genre. fluff, light comedy, light angst, smut

warnings. smut (oral sex: f receiving, penetrative unprotected sex) 

length. 5.1k

the first thing jungkook thinks when he sees you is wow.

he hasn't been up for very long, and you don't even know he's looking at you through the window. yoongi-hyung has wrapped you up in his arms as you sob and sob, muted behind the protective hospital glass. even with messy hair and wet eyes he's starstruck. it's why he recoils slightly when jimin and namjoon explain to him that you're his wife.

"my," he can't even say the word. "my..."

"your wife," namjoon repeats. "you know what a wife is, right? marriage?"

"yes," jungkook huffs, digging his nails into his scalp. "i lost my memory, hyung, not my fucking brain cells." 

he suddenly registers the gold band glistening on his left hand, simple and heavy. he has to take a second to collect himself. "but...but i'm twenty-three. right? i am twenty-three, yeah?"

"yeah. you are," jimin says softly.

"then how the fuck am i already married? not that i'm complaining i just," he suddenly turns pink at the thought of you in a wedding dress, clinging onto his arm, breakfast dates, late night ramen runs at the convenience store, painting the living room in a house you probably share, naked in bed on top of him. jungkook clears his throat. "it just seems a little out of character for me. i can't commit to a pair of shoes for a week let alone-"

"i think it's best if you just spoke with ____," jimin finishes before jungkook can work himself into a frenzy, a comforting hand laying on his shoulder. "you two need to talk anyway and it's best if all these answers came from her."

jungkook gulps at the thought of speaking to you, seeing you face to face. suddenly he's a cripplingly shy fourteen year old again.

"okay." he croaks. "okay."

x

x

x

you were even more beautiful up close.

your tear stained cheeks are glowing and blotchy when you perch on the chair beside his bed, big eyes fluttering up at him nervously. you're soft and plush and shorter than he thought and jungkook has to fist his hands in the sheets and play a counting game with the heart rate monitor in order to maintain eye contact. he feels himself start to sweat when you smile sadly at him. "sorry, i just...i don't know how to be around you normally without making you uncomfortable," you say quietly, wringing your hands together to avoid touching him.

"uncomfortable?" he queries, gaze latching onto the ring on your hand. seeing it on you gives him a nice feeling.

you nod into your lap. "yeah, um..." you look at your scuffed shoes, searching for the word. "we're usually very...touchy."

he can feel himself turning red again. "t-touchy?"

you meet his eyes and a pretty smile breaks over your face at how bashful he looks, making jungkook's cheeks tinge even pinker than they already are. you nod cutely so your earrings tinkle, eyes shining, and suddenly he understands without any context why he fell in love with you, why he married you so young. you let a comfortable silence settle over the room before taking a deep breath, bracing yourself. "how much do you remember, jungkook?"

he tries not to cave under the weight of his guilt. "not a lot about...you, that is," he finishes with a wince, your sad eyes immediately making him wilt with shame. "i remember everything up until a couple of years ago. we had a show at the japanese dome, debuted in america, and then...nothing. and now..."

"and now," you echo softly. your eyes look distant, staring at the floor.

"i'm sorry," jungkook whispers, chin touching his chest. "hyung told me...they all told me how much i loved you and...and i'm sorry i don't remember any of it. i'm so sorry."

you shake your head gently. "don't be sorry, jungkook-ah," the pet name makes his ears perk up. its a familiar, calming sound. "none of this is your fault. you didn't ask to get hit by that car." your expression turns remorseful, tugging at his heart. "if anything, this is because of me. the only reason you were out was because i asked you to go and get eggs and formula even though i should've remembered to pick some up on the way home and-"

"no, no! please don't blame yourself," jungkook tries, wishing he was close enough or even brave enough to take your hand. you look up at him and he catches a glimpse of the endless pool of love you harbour for him, like a punch to the chest. "i don't ever want you thinking this was your fault. so ple-" he pauses. "wait, formula?"

the door bursts open before he can finish, pitter patter steps rounding his bed until it reaches the other side, where you sit. a little girl with big dark eyes and curls of dark hair stares at him in wonder and elation, her cheeks dimpling just like yours before she screeches, "appa!"

jungkook's mouth goes dry. appa?

you're quick to intervene, putting yourself in the toddlers path to scoop her up in your arms. her grabby little hands struggle over your shoulder, fingers wriggling in attempt to get as close to jungkook as possible. he only stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, heart hammering in his chest when he sees the uncanny resemblances: his round nose. your brown skin but just a twinge fairer. his hooded eyes. and his stomach lurches.

"shhh, eunmi," you coo as you carry her away even with her squirming. "remember what i said before? appa is sick. appa is sick, baby-"

"we have a child?" jungkook wheezes, eyes starting to glaze over. there's a bout of silence when you look back at him guiltily, the baby's fumbling grinding to a halt when she registers the tension in the air. jungkook's breath is barely a whisper. "is that my daughter?"

your face crumples with a fresh bout of tears and eunmi looks on worriedly. she pushes her little lips into your cheek in a baby's kiss, like she's seen her father do so many times to get your attention. the word "amma," is muffled into your skin until you get yourself together and press a short kiss to her head.

yoongi rushes in, face twisted in apology. "i swear to god i turned around for one minute and-"

"it's okay, yoongi," you say quietly, stroking the baby's head. "eunmi, stay with uncle just a bit longer, okay? amma will be back in a minute..."

"appa," she whines over your shoulder, reaching for jungkook who sits helplessly in his bed. he watches with tears wetting his eyelashes, heart twisting in agony at the sight of his child he doesn't remember stretching her arms out for him. she begins to cry when he doesn't react or coo her. like he used to.

"take her, yoongi," you say shakily, passing the baby to him. the sound of eunmi's crying makes your heart shatter all over again, yoongi's quiet hushing doing nothing to qualm her sobbing as the heavy door closes behind them.

the silence that falls between the two of you is nothing short of excruciating. jungkook's head spins, completely overwhelmed: is that why you both got married so young? because of a child? was this why jimin and namjoon wouldn't say a damn thing about his life until he spoke to you first?

and then all the other questions that followed: was he a good father? when was his daughter's birthday? did she like kimchi and banana milk too? did he sing to her? read to her often?

would she ever forgive him for not being able to remember her?

"her name is eunmi," you say, looking down at the floor when jungkook starts to cry.

x

x

x

jungkook doesn't understand how his baby could be so pretty. she's golden brown like those sandy beaches on postcards, with chubby cheeks and twinkling dark eyes that resemble yours to a t, and that's when he realises of course she's beautiful. she's yours. you balance eunmi on your hip while you make coffee - decaf, since you're still weaning - and despite the amnesia jungkook feels like he's been here before, in this warm, happy place that is the kitchen.

"she got your nose though," you remind him, dumping the baby in his lap upon her fussing. she always seemed to wind down under his touch, and although nervous about the sudden responsibility of fatherhood, jungkook is compelled to give it. eunmi doesn't understand anything's changed so he doesn't see why he should act like it. "she's whiny before her milk too. like you."

"hey!" he retorts, but can't exactly defend himself. he twirls his fingers around her curly pigtails until she catches on and tries to stand on his thighs, reaching for his hair to yank. jungkook lets her. he's barely known his daughter a week and he's already so smitten he'd let her gut him open with a butter knife.

"she missed you, you know. when you were in hospital all this time," you say, making him look up to watch you stare into your drink. the fear still lingers in your eyes, faint and persistent. he can see it every time you look at him and it makes his body yearn to touch you like he once did, like he once would have before his brain unlearned everything his heart didn't. you laugh while watching eunmi pull his hair again, making him hiss. "even yoongi tried but no one coddles her as much as you."

"really?" he asks, face lighting up. he's so happy to hear that. jungkook hates the way the question bubbles up in the back of his throat, like it'd make a difference or it'd change how he felt. but he has to ask it. "is that why...is that why we got married so early, then?" he says, trying to sound as offhand as possible. "because of eunmi?"

you chew your lip. "yeah. i mean, you said it wasn't a big deal. because you were going to marry me eventually so it didn't make a difference, but...it doesn't really matter i guess, because that's not what everyone else thinks," you pause, tracing the rim of your mug again. "that's certainly not what your fans think."

jungkook doesn't even want to think about it. the backlash, the gossip, the name calling and dehumanisation. for the first time in his life jungkook couldn't give less of a shit about his reputation. "i'm sorry," he says, feeling like the word has lost meaning by now with how much he's said it. "i'm so sorry. not for this, for us or for eunmi. i don't regret any of that i just," he shifts the baby in his lap, still getting used to her weight. "i can only imagine what you went through."

you look a bit bewildered. "...you said that last time too." you smile again reassuringly. "please don't feel solely responsible, kook-ah. you didn't exactly get me pregnant on your own."

he flushes tomato red and you giggle at him until eunmi joins in too.

x

x

x

jungkook can't keep his eyes off you while you play with the baby, comb out her hair, sing her lullabies while you bathe her together. he'd always wanted a whirlwind romance as a teen and it looks like he finally got it, because he can feel himself fall head first in love with you (all over again). it didn’t make sense for someone to be so collected and easygoing after having motherhood forced onto you so abruptly. you tell him often that he's a picture-perfect dad, but jungkook still doubts he compares.

"does she need a change?" he asks, struggling to keep all of eunmi's wriggling limbs in his grip.

"nope, just hungry," you say, reaching out when he passes the baby to you. you're about to stand up and go to the guest room to feed her, but jungkook is already arranging the pillows next to him for you, grabbing a baby cloth on the side too.

"do you need another pillow?" he muses aloud, but he's already grabbing the ones on his side of the bed before you can answer, forming a wedge for you to sit nicely beside him. he looks up at you when you fail to move. "are you okay?"

"yeah i, um," you chew your lip nervously. "you don't...mind me feeding here?"

you immediately regret the question once it leaves your mouth. jungkook's crestfallen expression hits you right in the stomach, round eyes glittering up at you. he hasn't looked this upset since he woke up nearly a month ago. "why would i ever mind?”

"oh jungkook," you sniff, sitting beside him. he pulls you into the nest of pillows beside him, arm winding protectively around your shoulders. your eyes brim with sympathy tears, tired and angry and upset with treating him like a stranger.

"if i make you feel uncomfortable, i can go," he offers quietly. "if it makes you feel weird i understand..."

"no, not at all," you rush to stop him, suddenly realising how close you are. you could kiss his pink little lips if you just tilted your head up. "i just didn't want to make you feel weird. all this new stuff is happening to you, you're suddenly a husband and a father with no recollection of signing up or it and i just...i don't know how much you want to invest the second time around," you scramble to finish your sentence when he pins you with a concerned expression. “as in, i understand if you don’t want to make the same choice twice. it’s a big decision.”

he shakes his head dismissively. there wasn't a thing in the world that could make him turn his back on his family but it looked like you still needed convincing. he peers at you curiously when you position the baby. "so i can stay?"

you smile at him eagerly. "of course," you undo the nursing strap of your bra before the baby finally latches. "i actually prefer it when you're here. it makes me feel safe."

jungkook watches quietly while you hum for the baby, playing with her little hand while she drinks. the adoration seeps out of him in waves, how serene you look while you rock her, how angelic eunmi looks while she blinks her big doll eyes up at you both. she won't stay this little forever. he feels so overwhelmed by it, gathering you further in his arms with the urge to hold his family in his hands like a diamond. you don't question the little sniffles jungkook buries into your hair, resting your head on his shoulder wordlessly. you missed being held by him, missed his cotton scent and gentle breath.

"i love her so much," he whispers into the shell of your ear, entranced by the baby's little gurgles and gulps. he reaches out to run his knuckle over the velvet of her cheek, round and stuffed with milk. "i feel like i'll die, i love her so much."

"me too," you smile. "it was scary and hard for a long time but...i'm so glad we had her. i wouldn't trade her for anything."

you feel jungkook's lips trace your temple, heart stuttering upon the sudden contact. you hear what he doesn’t say: i wouldn't trade either of you.

x

x

x

"why are you so sweaty?" jimin scowls, noting the dark patches under jungkook's t-shirt when he tries to take the baby from his arms. "it's not even humid today."

jungkook doesn't do anything but gulp and cuddle a sleeping eunmi closer to his chest. she's become somewhat of a security blanket for him; even if she wasn't awake to play, he was always itching to hold her and nuzzle into her head when he's tense or embarrassed. like now.

"leave him alone, you know he sweats when he's shy," yoongi grins.

"stop it," jungkook mumbles.

"shy? what for?"

"because he's got a crush on his wife," namjoon snickers, knowing jungkook would whack him one if his arms weren't around his kid. "why are you looking at me like that? it's true!"

"but you can't just say it! she'll hear!" he hisses.

"you're married," jimin deadpans but it only makes the younger boy curl in on his baby more. "god, this reminds of when you two met. remember how he used to hide behind manager hyung every time ____ came in? and then i had to listen to them fuck in the next room for a year only to end up back here all over again-"

"jungkook," you call. "where did these come from?" you walk into the sitting room with a bouquet of yellow roses nestled in your arms. "did a fan send them? i didn't see a note they were just on the worktop-"

"th-those are for you," he mumbles. "i got those for you."

you look so pretty when you stare it makes him sweat harder and the three older boys all but burst a vein in their head trying not to laugh when leaving the room. there's an awkward silence where you clutch the flowers and he clutches the baby. "thank you," you say finally. "they're beautiful, i love the colour yellow..."

his big doe eyes round up to look at you even though the lower half of his face is smushed into pigtails. "you're welcome."

"can i kiss you?" you blurt out, too fast to stop it. your cheeks are still stinging and you're pretty sure you have baby powder in your hair but jungkook looks at you with awe as he nods so vigorously his earrings shake.

so you do, leaning over the arm of the sofa to press your mouth over his long enough for both your breaths to catch. you pull away, moving to sit next to him so his free arm can wind around your shoulders when you kiss him again. "please," he mumbles when you part. "please don't ask to kiss me. just do it," he leans for another long, warm kiss that leaves you light headed. "stop tip-toeing around me, okay? we're married. i know i scare easy, but not that easy."

you feel giddy, finally feeling the weight being lifted piece by piece. "okay," you peck his mole endearingly before scooting up for another kiss. "i missed this."

"me too," he hums into your mouth. "it feels like the first time but also...not the first time, you know? not just because i don't remember but like," he doesn't know how to say it, wetting his lips thoughtfully. your chapstick is cherry flavoured, his favourite. "like we've been doing this for longer than both of us even realise. longer than this life."

"i know," you nod. "i know."

x

x

x

after a while, you forgot about jungkook's amnesia altogether. even though the chances of him making a full recovery were slim, it all felt so normal and back to routine, all the kissing and the cuddling and the playing with eunmi. there was almost no room for trepidation anymore. until now.

you moan into jungkook's mouth when he pulls you onto his thighs, big hands palming your ass when you grind into him. he's only mildly concerned that he'll cum in his pants at this rate but he doesn't fret too much: that was secondary to undressing you and touching you and pleasing you and making you scream as loud as he could make you without waking the baby. he has nearly three years of re-learning your body to catch up on and he's eager to start.

he's quickly reminded during this process that you are a master. you know exactly where to kiss him, exactly how much pressure to kneed into his cock with your hips, exactly how much tongue he wants in his mouth until he's whining and damp for you. of course you know his body like the back of your hand - your child wasn't conceived from thin air. it makes him all the more desperate to learn, almost antsy to get his mouth and hands on you until you're writhing and breathless beneath him.

you gasp when you feel his hand slip between your legs, rubbing his fingers over your shorts. you automatically rock your covered wetness into his touch, the long whimper you muffle into his neck sending jungkook soaring through the clouds with pride. you're so lost in the feeling, having missed it so much, you're barely able to squeak a stop! when he hooks his fingers inside the waistband of your panties.

his eyes shoot open. "what's wrong?"

"j-jungkook," you shuffle in his grip, feeling so embarrassed under his scrutiny you don't know where to look. "it's not that i want you to stop but. listen, just," you cling to his shoulders, shivering when his hands drag reassuringly up to your waist. "just remember that...i've had a kid, okay? i'm not gonna look like before."

he blinks. "i don't remember what you looked like before."

"no, i mean like," you lick your lips, tasting him there. "it's still something to keep in mind. i'm not gonna be as smooth and perky in places like all those idol girls you perform next to, so just-" he watches you fumble nervously in his lap, the growing disbelief making him blink. "don't expect too much okay? things might not look the way you imagine them to and i don't want you to feel-"

"stop," he cuts off, tugging you so you're seated over his erection again. the look jungkook pins you with is so intense you can feel your pulse thrum in your ears, the harsh rise and fall of his chest making him appear that much more passionate. "this body," he slips his hands up your top, palming your skin. "made my child. i take offence to it being spoken about with anything less than admiration, even by you."

"kook-ah," you say nervously, but still let him remove your pj top over your head before you laying you under him on the bed. you don't know why your eyes suddenly prick with tears when he traces over your stretch marks and discoloured skin with his smooth lips. "this kept my daughter warm," he kisses under your navel, sliding up to your heavy breasts. he kisses each darkened nipple, swollen from the baby's mouth. "these feed her." he rises further still, before planting his mouth on your forehead in a short peck. "and this raises her. so how can i be anything but proud to touch you?"

"jungkook, stop," you sniff, tears wetting your lashes. your eyes fall shut when he wipes them away with his thumb, lips ghosting over your cheeks and nose.

"what did i say about tip-toeing around me?" he whispers, forcing you to look him in the eye. only then do you see the tears there, all the ardour and respect he holds for you pooling in those brown depths. "i'm your husband. let me be your husband."

you kiss him before you can start crying again, letting him part your mouth and taste you long and hard before finally undressing himself and slipping your shorts off. this is all a first for him, and it's been so long since you've done this it's almost like a first for you too, frantic and messy and desperate to feel jungkook lodged inside you where he belongs. you know he must share the sentiment when he splits your thighs over the narrow of his hips, hooking them there while he gets a good look of his erection rubbing through your slick.

no wonder i knocked her up, jungkook muses faintly. i don't think i can ever stop doing this.

"jungkook, please," you run a hand through his hair, grinding against his cock in encouragement but he still won't take the plunge. instead, your voice reminds him of his initial objective, causing him to saunter down between your legs faster than you can process. he's licking into you before you can have a second thought about it, mouth falling open with a loud moan when he traces around your clit in firm circles.

he has your knees over his shoulders and his arms wound around your hips so you have nowhere to go, nothing to do but buck into his attentive mouth, jungkook's groans vibrating against you until you can barely keep yourself together - he's always enjoyed this as much as you have. which is why he takes his time, explores every crevice and subsequent response, relishing in the gush of wetness when he does something right. he even goes as far as holding his tongue stagnant against your folds so you have no choice but to rub yourself into him for friction, so entranced he is by your invigorating reactions. only when you're squirming and whimpering with deliriousness does he finally give in and resume a steady pace over your swollen clit, two fingers sliding in home so you have something to come around. and you do.

messy and wet and shrieking into the pillow by your head so that you're muffled enough to not wake the baby down the hall, your orgasm drawing out longer than normal as you do your best to ride it out. jungkook carries you through it, gulping down as much of your arousal as he can manage until your hips finally drop back into the bed in post-climax exhaustion. on the contrary, the only reason he stops lapping at you is because you tug him away by the hair, bringing him up to you and between your legs again before he can do anything about it.

he splutters with a moan at the sudden contact of your wetness against his cock again, eyes fluttering shut and allowing you to bring him in, arms and legs winding securely around him so that you're flush against each other, hips rocking in tandem. jungkook is so caught up in the feeling - not the sex but the safety of being held, being connected like this - that you're the one to reach down and position his tip against your hot center, before finally running your hands down your husband's back to cup his ass and shove him into you.

jungkook gasps, breath shaking at how tight you are. you're so hot, so snug around him his eyes shut upon instinct, letting your hands guide his hips and showing him how to move in that perfect rolling motion that you're only familiar with after years of practice. and jungkook, of course, is a fast learner. it doesn't take long for him to take the reigns and fuck you just how you like it, adding in a sharp snap of his hips every now and again just to listen to you squeak in surprise. the wet sounds of your joined arousal coupled with you moaning under him is near cathartic, sending him hurtling to his finish line.

but before he can get there you shift him over, thick thighs helping you roll and pin him under you on the bed. jungkook grapples at your waist when you resume a slower but harder rock of your hips that has his length grinding against your clenching walls, his head thrown back at the intensity of it. you ride him through it, peppering the moles on his pretty neck with kisses and sucks, mouth finding his stiff little nipple to give it a swirl too. it's exactly what he needs to finish off, fingers digging into your flesh as he bucks wildly, filling you full of his seed while he calls your name. you slow to a stop when his hands finally fall limp on your thighs, his chest heaving under you and covered in sweat. you giggle. he always got so sweaty.

"you did so well, kookie," you whisper, kissing his damp neck and collar bones. his arms are suddenly around you again for comfort. "you were so good for me...always so good to me..."

"you," he croaks finally, eyes half lidded and a little delirious. "you didn't finish?"

you giggle at his genuine concern, pecking his wet lips. "i got mine, remember?"

"how many times?" jungkook is suddenly alert, tugging your wrist to get your attention before you can climb off him. his other hand is still around your middle so moving was out of the question until he allowed it. he was still inside you. "how many times do i usually make you come?"

you blink in embarrassment. you never really thought about it, let alone counted. "um...i don't know..." he waits for an answer, awfully serious about it. "a-at least two or three, i guess."

you yelp when he flips you back over, fingers immediately prying your cum soaked folds apart to nestle inside. "then don't act like we're done."

[comprised-of-magpies]

Some safety & survival tips

This isn’t something that I’d normally post, but with college starting I thought I’d share some tips I’ve gathered over the years for staying safe (edit: I was informed a lot of these are basic knowledge, but I’ll share anyway because you never know)

if a room in your house randomly smells like fish, check the outlets, melted plastic often gives off a fish odor and unchecked could start an electrical fire

don’t swerve for deer and risk you or your car, hit it, with the proof of hitting it insurance can help cover the damage (edit: sorry, I don’t mean to encourage killing an animal, and I know the deer can do some hefty damage, this is just if your options are swerving full speed into a ditch/other car, or hitting the deer, the deer might be a better option. obv if you think you’ll be fine swerving out of the way, do that)

speaking of ^, if you see a deer on the road and it runs off in time, keep going slow and stay on the lookout, there’s more often than not more than just one deer and you never know if it’ll jump into the road

however, swerve for a moose, you’re going to hit the legs and then you have 1500 lbs coming thru your windshield

if you’re in a dark, unfamiliar area, keep the keys handy, for one the key itself can easily be used as a weapon, two if you set off a car alarm it might grab someone’s attention if you’re in danger, or at least deter someone threatening you

try not to be wearing heels if you know you’ll be in the situation above. first of all, everyone knows it’s hard to run in heels, so an opportunist will likely target someone that won’t as easily get away. secondly, it just hurts to run in them. I was out past 10pm walking several blocks to where I parked my car and noticed two guys tailing me, and while my heels were thick and only about 4-5 inches, running a block to my car in sheer terror left my ankles beyond sore the next day, and I can only imagine how catastrophic it would’ve been if my foot got caught in a hole or if my ankle twisted.

if the water retreats quickly and farther than normal, pack it up and run, that’s a sign of an oncoming tsunami

stranded in the cold? don’t stop moving. shaking and shivering is good, that’s the body’s way of trying to stay warm, if you suddenly stop shivering, it means your body has given up and you’re past the point of it being able to warm itself. don’t let someone take their clothes off either in the cold. this sounds weird and obvious, but when you’re exposed to hypothermia-inducing conditions for so long, your nerves get fried, and you start thinking you’re boiling alive and don’t contain rational thought anymore

if you haven’t eaten or drank anything for a period of a couple days, pace yourself when food/water is available. If you consume too much immediately after starving, that’s a massive shock to your system. When concentration camp survivors were freed, they were given too much food for their malnourished bodies to process, and that’s fatal.

if vomit/poop is like black tar or coffee grounds, see a doctor, that’s a sign of internal bleeding (obv periods for girls are different, if menstrual blood is like coffee grounds there’s a good chance it’s just really, really old blood, but it’s still a good idea to check in with a doctor)

a lot of predators (I know at least mountain lions/cougars) are deterred from attacking if they see your face/eyes

if you’re hitting the gas pedal, and the tachometer is moving, and the car is not, you’re hydroplaning. Your first instinct is to hit the brakes. DON’T HIT THE BRAKES. Your best bet is to ride it out, gradually slow down, try and let other cars know what’s going on, pull over and calm down.

car windows are strongest in the middle, aim for the edges or corners

911 should work anywhere (even other countries), SIM card or not, for free, so don’t waste time scrambling for change at a pay phone

if you’re in a pool and the water tastes metallic, get out, there’s an electrical short in the water

a seriously upset stomach is another sign of a heart attack

if you’re getting manhandled into a van, don’t fight fair. fight to get away as soon as possible. elbow or palm to nose, heel to toe, thumbs or elbows to eyes, knee to groin, strike the ears, nails to throat, do whatever you can and make as much noise as possible. don’t get taken to a secondary location

don’t punch the face, punch the throat. no matter how weak you are, a fist to the windpipe is enough to stun anyone

the flesh on the underside of the arm is fragile. try pinching it, it hurts right? even lightly? pinch someone there hard, and PULL. you can tear out muscle fiber and tendons doing that, and it’ll hurt. a lot.

if you think you’re in danger, call someone, or even just pretend to call someone, and then make plans, loudly. even fake plans work, just make them soon. if someone is following you, knowing that you’ll be expected somewhere/your absence will be immediately noticed is sometimes enough to ward off the very unfriendly folk.

it’s worth it to keep pepper spray, I accidentally indirectly caught myself with it when testing to make sure it works, and the smell alone made me tear up. I was coughing and blowing my nose for several hours after, so imagine spraying it in someone’s eyes, the intended use.

it’s worth shining a light in the backseat of your car, especially if you left it unlocked. the previously mentioned unfriendly folk have used the method of laying in the back waiting for you to enter the vehicle, so a couple seconds to check can’t hurt.

keep valuable looking items away from windows, this hopefully lessens the chance a burglar will choose your house

be wary of a big truck or van parked next to your driver side door, that’s also a kidnapping tactic. It’s worth it to get in on the other side—lock the doors immediately—and crawl over

be wary of someone stopping you and asking you for directions, if you’ve seen a dog, etc, as opportunists prey on your inclination to be helpful (obv it’s not bad to want to help people, but don’t be afraid to say “no, sorry” and keep moving, this is how Ted Bundy lured in his victims)

if someone grabs you, drop your body weight. rag doll, go limp. the attacker will likely have to adjust his grip. If they manage to keep ahold of you, don’t try and pry away their hands, try and grab their thumbs and BEND

if you’re aware you’re having a heart attack, force yourself to cough, that’ll keep the heart pumping

You’re better off screaming ��FIRE!” than “HELP!”, as people often don’t want to get involved, which is sad and frustrating but true, but a fire involves everyone around you

if you’re struggling to light a (gas) stove, and it’s making the clicking noise but there’s no flame, wait for awhile because now there’s gas in the air that depending on how many times you tried to light the stove, wouldn’t be a good idea to light

when giving cpr: dominant over nondominant, to the center of the chest between the nipples. it helps to hum Staying Alive, as the tempo aligns with the cpr treatment. don’t stop if you hear/feel a rib crack, bones mend, a stopped heart doesn’t

tip from firefighters: search rooms with the back of your hand. if you think a room is on fire, feel the metal door handle with the back of your hand, that way if it’s hot you burn the back and don’t reduce your ability to grip things. this also prevent grabbing ahold of an electrical outlet with a current in it, the electricity invading your body will contract your muscles making you unable to actually let go of the outlet

Keep adding your own please! This is a very short list, and you can never know too much on safety precautions

[undermattsun-archive]

japan national team x reader | w.c 1.3k

a/n: omg guys here’s the super cute epic collab fic i made w all my frieednsies <33 we all worked superrrr hard on this so pls don’t be mean!!!!!!!!! pls enjoy its xoxox and don’t forget to follow everyone here on this kidnapped by hq collab <33333333333

warnings: not proofread bc who does that xD (guys pls free me from this hell i’m in so much pain i didn’t even look at this i skimmed over it i left it as is, gg)

Read this while lsitening to the best song evar!!!!!!!!!!!1 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a_cXhBy78T4&ab_channel=JonasBrothers if you dont listen whil reading ill eat ur family MONCH MONCH MONCH

i go dwnstars, yelling ‘by mum!’ bfor laceing up my wite convrrse hightops (NOT blck becauz u cant sharpi on it) wth 1d lyrics scribbled on it. i rmb to draw a directioner infinite sign on mywrist. perfect, i think to mysdlf.

I never thot i would get to go to the olympics all the way on the other side of the planet in toky o japan! It was a dream come true for a simple, average, run of the mill girrl like me, who is 5’7 with naturally wavy hair, that’s not curly or strait and eyes as blue as the dark blue part of the ocean. 

I been dreaming of the olypoics since fetus. I just knew I had to be here, but I never thought it would actually happen. The only thing that would make it better is if I had a smezxy smexy boyfrwend! (A/n: Tee-hee! Maybe even two! (Or five! <333) haha! Aren’t I so quirky? <3)

I’m Wearing A Mint Green Crop Top That Ties In The Front And Some Denim Shorts With Black Converse. I Don’t Need Makeup Because My Skin Is Naturally Smooth And Clear And My Lips Are Already Red #wokeuplikethis And I Listened Only To MCR And P!ATD On The Plane Ride. I Bet You Dont Know Who They Are, THey’re My Favorite Banxds And Are Super GOod And Like Underground Bands. (A/n: Okay But If You Don’t LIke Welcome TO THe BLack Parade GTFO Of My FIc I Don’t Need YOu Here xoxo) 

ok so like,, im on my way to the olympics but then like, i get kidnapped !!! the car i was in was like super expensive and i cant see anything with the blindfold on. i hear voices of men all around me though, for like, a whole 30 minutes before they bring me somewhere and tie me up? "Take Her BLindfold off," one of them say, i hear. and im so nervous. but it's like a dream when they tug my blindfold off and im met with the prettiest emerald orbs ever looking back at me.

my stomach knotted in fear (more like an angry swarm of butterflies fluttering around ) i feel like screaming or squealing or both bc those eyes belong to someone so gorgeous . even more gorgeous than harry styles. hes like a god. i woukd so worship his foot. or something. (squee omg i can’t believe this is happening. i bet you wish that it was you huh?) 

bro who tf has emerald orbs green eyes im blanking rn

^ yo i was gonna ask i cannot for the life of me remember who

his #afff14 sppheres peered into my soul i really just felt seen. i took a deep breath before fainting he was just so pretty. *one hours later* i woke upa nd saw the pretty viridescent peepers staring into mine. like he was literally two inches away from my face omg i could feel his minty breath on my lips it smelled so good.

“My name is atsumu miya,” he said gruffly, the gruffness in his voice so gravely. “And me and me mates here think yer the most gorgeous girl weve ever seen. I blink up at him, orbs gleaming amd full of tears. 

“What do u mean, i’m just a normal quirky girl?” I say shakely, biting my lip. I bit my lip as the piss blond man spoke.

“You don’t know ur beautiful.” YOUR INSECURE DONT KNOW WHAT FOR YOUR TURNING HEADS WHEN YOU WAlk THROUGH THE DO OO OOOOOR

“U may be a normal quirky girl but ur OUR nroaml quirky girl now” his friend said with a deep voice. It was so deep that i almost thot it was like the ocean, he had curly balck hair and his eye were sooo mysterious (a/n i loooove sakusa i can’t believe him and his friends kindapped me omgggg XD)

“Stop it go away” osamu said (hee hee i can never remmber  tell which twin is which LOL i think its osamuuu) “no u have to share” sakusa responded angrily. I starred at them and didn’t know what theyd do next!

I looked over to he side ans see sakura pulling out hand sanitizer passing it around to his teamates. The green orbed boys huff as they put it on. i wished i could see his whole face hes so sedy, look over here pretty girl, i gasp pulled from my thoughts by their captain kita walking into the room with his hands on his hips and was theat aran? “You look even better in peroiusn” aran said to me, walking over to me “how do you know who i am?” i ask.

“listen bbygurl...” he yealls, pulling out a chair to sit acros from me. “you dont get to ask the questions, we are your new masters, and you shall do as we say.” i gulp nervously, my stomach feeling like a sharkndao is happening inside. “we hope u will be worth every penny we payed foru.” 

“M-m-m-masters?” my head felt like it was spinning in a teacup from disney land as i thought about what he just said to me. what did this mean? was i gooing to miss the olympics?? I wanted ot hate him with his super smug look on his face but i cant deny that he looks kind of hot and i’m into guys who look just like him,, the other guys r also relly attractive it makes my heart race. I look around trying to find answers when i make eye contact w a really really reall y tall guy who i thinks name is gao only to see another really really relly tall guy next to him,, hyakuzawa?

“what are yo going to do to me then?” ((*lenny face))

you ask, stomach bubbling. maybe i shoudnt have ateen that stale pizza earlier and washed it down with watermelon-lemon minute maid because now i felt like it was gonna come up. ((ew gross um tw vomit mention hehe)

“Dont worry were going to grab seme din din soon lil one,” one of them says. His name espapes me. Hes a ginger. They wont answer me for some reason and i suddenly miss my freedom when i would go to school (i go to an expesive private school for rich kids ahahah).

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH ME??” i yell again batting my fists against the ginger but he doesnt even blink. Ive decided hes hot but in a short king kinda way. His hair reminded me of of like cheeto coloured fine thread woven into waves.,,, like the ocean xD (ans...this has an ocean theme)

sudenly there was another voice it was yalling “BOKE HINATA BOKER” i looked with my stricking dark blue orbs and there wasd inother pair of stricking dark blueor bs like the ocean and blck hair. his voicde was veryy deelp an sexxcy (a/n lololol i luv u gakeyama kun *w*)

theres suddenly a loud voice in ur ear screaming directly into ur eardrum " BAKA KAGYEAMA BAKA"  (wtf our they communicating ????  ? )    i cringe at the yellign and another pair of strong arms bulls me away . i land against a hard, solid chest, i can feel the six pack thru his track Suit. 

and then my alarm clock playin what makes u beatyful goes off n i woke up. 

amen.

i rub my eyes wakng up, starrn into the mirror at my super borng brwn ugly eyes and brsh my equaly borng brwn hair. i lok up at m wall and see harey stylz and niallr starinf back at me on t walls. i sigh dreamily. they wud twll me my brwn uairs beatufil. 

[loverholland]

Bestie Peter decides to surprise you on a night out patrolling but when he gets to your window, he overhears you on the phone talking about some guy (it's you telling your bestie about Peter but he doesn't know) and then he asks about it and you confess?!

sorry for improper grammar and capitalization, it's late and i'm on my phone

a normal tuesday night always consisted of Peter's patrol. he would go and get a sandwich from his favorite sub shop, a slush ie and a water. 6.50. he'd go back to his apartment and change into his suit. then he'd sneak out. he always brought his backpack and made sure to keep it at his "secret-but-not-so-secret" hide out. he always brought it just in case he has some off time and can do homework. he'd patrol from 7:30-4am typically and if he wasn't, he had eyes out to let him know. not super effective, but he got to actually sleep sometimes so it works for him.

but tonight was particularly slow. nothing much was happening and he had done all of his homework, Aunt May was on a date and Ned had Betty over. Two of his go to people were going to fuck tonight and he was on patrol. he could shake his head at the thought, disgusted at the thought of all of that. but he knew that y/n didn't have anything going on for the night. they had mentioned it at lunch today and that's when it his. Peter could surprise y/n. of course, they might be upset after, but he'll deal with that when the time comes. but he loved the idea, so from the queens bank, he swung north and towards the apartment building that y/n lived in.

it takes him maybe 10 minutes to the get to their fire escape. they had a few plants out on it, toad and toadert, some sort of big plant. Peter hung for a moment to catch his breath before bringing his body up and over the railing. he stood there for a moment, looking thru the window that was partially open and a sheer curtain over it. peter removed his mask and smiled as he watched them pace their room, a hand in their hair.

they were on the phone with someone and it sounded like a private conversation but peter couldn't help but to listen to their words. they sounded so in love... and it's not with him. at that very moment, he felt his heart completely break in half and stomped on. he knew that he was in love with them, always has. he always thought they felt the same way - sharing longing gazes, soft touches, quiet words. he's seen the way they look at one another. he might've over thought it, maybe? but nonetheless.

"no, like, he's really sweet, marianne. i promise, i've known him for like... ever." they giggled and threw their head back. Peter took a step back, putting on his mask. "i think i'm in love with him, mari. like seriously."

Peter's eyes weld up with hot tears. he bit his lip and turned his back before shooting out a web to a building close by and swinging away.

he immediately went to his hide out, packed his things and then went home. he sent a text to his big crew group chat and went home. he didn't want to be seen. he didn't want to talk to anyone. he just wanted to be alone to feel this heartbreak alone. it wasn't like it was his first, god no. but it hurt worse. he couldn't even believe how bad it hurt. it felt like his heart was a piano string and every time it played, the strings snapped.

as soon as he was home, he stripped and got in bed. not daring to look at his phone or his room which was surrounded in y/n's things. peter snuggled into his blankets and sobbed. tears running down his eyes endlessly and his chest heaved into itself. he was like that for what felt like hours before he finally fell asleep, softly snoring into the wet fabric. finally at peace for a minute. a moment in time where he is able to rest and that's what he did. peter rested up until 4:27am, when a knock sounded from his window. he woke up instantly, ready to fight anyone and everyone at his window. but with closer inspection, he noticed the bright blue hoodie and necklaces that he knew far too well.

y/n. fucking hell.

peter scrambled to grab a pair of pants before he unlocked and slide open the window, allowing y/n into his bedroom. they looked exhausted and they threw their hands up over their head to catch a few breaths.

"what the fuck!" peter whisper shouted.

"i could say the same to you."

"what do you mean?"

y/n scoffed. "seriously? you say that you can't patrol because something "came up" and then you don't answer you phone for what? 6 hours or something?"

"i'm sorry, i just... wasnt felling well and fell asleep when i got home."

"liar. you were crying."

"i was not!"

"petey, babe," ouch. "i can see that your eyes are swollen. your voice is hoarse. i know you like the back of my hand, i know when it's not just feeling ill."

peter stared at them, his red eyes stinging every time he blinked. he wanted to cry all over again as the heartbreak filled his mind and heart again. without a single thought, peter asked them the age old question.

"who were you talking about?" peter asked, voice trembling.

"what?"

"i... came to surprise you and you were on the phone and i didn't mean to listen to your conversation with mari but your window was open and i was just there and i just heard. i didn't mean to but..." peter sniffled. "who was it about?"

y/n took a moment to take in the rambles and in that moment, peter's eyes screwed shut and tears began to fall. his fists balling as he tried to stop himself.

"petey," y/n started, taking one of his balled up hands and releasing it before intertwining their fingers together. "it was you. it was about you, baby."

"it..." peter started, a sob releasing. in a weird way he needed to let it go. relief washed over him and y/n wrapped their arms around peter's body.

"it was about you. i love you." she soothed. "i cant picture a life without you. i think about you all the time. i miss you all the time. i just want to be with you."

peter's breathing calmed and he blinked for a moment, looking down at them. they offered a small smile, that he tried to return. so many thoughts ran through his head.

"i love you." peter stated, leaning down and kissing them for the first time. it wasn't the longest kiss, but it was sweet, tender and filled with love. peter wished he could have had that kiss for a second longer, but they pulled back laughing.

"you're all snotty." they giggled. "but i love you." they pecked his lips before pulling him to the bed. "let's sleep."

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