#so I could be pretty straight up with him and he won’t judge or be unsympathetic | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

skzdarlings · 4 months ago

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the rescue ; skz; aotm!hyunjin x reader

original ask: requested by @tattywood: ❛ i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty. ❜ would 100000% fit Hyunjin 🩶 + requested by anonymous: ❛ you're mine, and i take care of what belongs to me. ❜ with hyunjin? thank you

pairing: hwang hyunjin/reader content info: artist of the month!hyunjin was inspo here. gangster stuff, reader has been kidnapped and is in a see through nightdress, most violence off page though, bad guy hyunjin who is actually a good guy, arranged marriage, multiple smut scenes, not great communication but gets better lol. smut includes fingering, blow jobs, pussy eating, piv, spanking, light choking, husband/wife kink. word count: 6300 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

“I’ve already explained,” you say, equal parts frustrated and exhausted. “My husband isn’t coming for me.”

The gangster cronies still don’t seem to understand. You are tied to a chair in their basement (because they are preposterously corny goons, tying you up like a comically silly damsel in a ridiculous film) while they berate you for your husband’s tardiness.

You have tried explaining, over and over, that Hyunjin is not coming, but they won’t accept that answer. The fools try in vain to reach him again, but his line leads straight to a dial tone.

He went radio silent after the initial video contact, when your captors demanded a price for your healthy return.

Hyunjin was quiet on the call. Your husband is a quiet man in general, though he knows how to use his charms and work a room, and he has certainly perfected the art of severe intimidation. When your marriage was arranged, one mob family to the other, you mistakenly assumed you were marrying a monster.

Hyunjin is very reserved when not conducting business. He doesn’t engage in any of the more debauched sides of the business, unlike the men in your family. Evenings at home are silent and still, the penthouse view of the glittering cityscape the only real bustle.

Maybe that shouldn’t have surprised you. When he took over his family’s business, Hyunjin altered a lot of their practices, cutting the crueler sectors, opting for illicit crimes of more practical varieties.

The country is in a political chokehold, government affairs conducted none too differently from the criminal underworld. The cops are all dirty, the politicians corrupt, the wealthy depraved. Hyunjin has taken it upon himself to alleviate the pressure suffered by the regular people, the civilians who truly pay the price of a broken system.

In a world with no good guys, sometimes only villains can be heroes.

You think of his face now, how he certainly looked the part of a villain on the video call. Hyunjin has a very austere demeanour, exacerbated by his severe appearance: sharp marble features and dark, vicious eyes often further darkened with heavy lining, sleek black hair, scattered scars and tattoos, and the sort of regard that judges at a glance. He is young, but he has the air of a man who has already traversed the universe and found it wanting.

You think of his face now, the silent perusal he gave your bound body on that video call. You are dressed in your favourite nightgown, your underthings partially visible through the light material, but it was not willingly donned. At the time of your kidnapping, you were attired appropriately for the wealthy wife of a famous gangster. You were returning from a family visit when your captors intercepted you in transit from the airport.

Either to intimidate or threaten or just because they could, they made you remove all your jewelry and fine clothes. They rifled through your luggage and demanded you change into the nightgown.

Hyunjin recognized the nightdress, realized you must have been stripped, and likely inferred the very worst.

“Address,” was the only word Hyunjin said. He ended the call seconds later.

“Oh, he’ll come,” your captor says. He points at you with a hand that feels more threatening than a knife. It makes your terrified heart leap into your throat. “Or else.”

“He won’t, though!” you exclaim. “You’re wasting your time!”

They are not listening. They leave the basement, slamming the door behind them.

You huff and settle back in your bonds.

It is only a matter of time before they realize you are telling the truth. Hyunjin will not waste the money or resources to rescue you. He has always been respectful of the marriage arrangement, but your husband is not sentimental. There is a professional distance between you. His decision will be based in the logic of all his strategies: nothing personal, just a matter of business.

You sometimes see a different side of him, something buried under that quiet intensity. He collects fine art and spends hours poring over his favourite pieces, listening to music, losing himself to artistic fantasies. He always comes back, but you know there are other worlds in his mind.

Every attempt to bridge the gap has been gently rebuffed, but there have been moments when your husband seems curious about you. You often catch him staring. He gets a wistful look that softens his face, even with that shield of make-up. His eyes are gentle when you talk about your passions. You never let his quietude deter your friendly penchant for chatter. He seems more than content to listen. He remembers everything too.

You know he finds you attractive, if nothing else. He has caved on that front several times over, though not right away. He didn’t touch you on the wedding night, nor the honeymoon. He left your beach holiday early to return to business, leaving you in a villa with security and his credit card. It was the first time you realized the material world was no replacement for true companionship. You missed his dark eyes.

Your family also had expectations. There would be consequences if the marriage fell through. You would be blamed, not him. Worried he would renege on the nuptials, you did everything to try and seduce him.

He politely rejected you at every turn.

Just when you were resigned, he arrived home after a job. It was almost three in the morning when he entered the penthouse. You have separate bedrooms but they share a connecting bathroom. You could hear him cursing above the running water.

You only meant to peek. The sliding door on your side was partially ajar so you tip-toed over.

Hyunjin was standing in front of the mirror, shirtless, pressing a rag to his wounded shoulder. There was a mess of blood streaked down his back, making you gasp at the terrible mosaic of pain, his body littered with violent scars.

That gasp contained multitudes, for the horror, for his beauty. His dark eyes were as severely lined as ever, expression intense as he breathed hard through the pain. Smooth black hair fell across his face when he tipped his head.

He froze at the sound of your gasp. His turn was very slow, eyes peeking through the curtain of his short hair. They captured yours.

You held your breath.

Eventually, he straightened, flicking his hair out of his face. He looked in the mirror and sighed.

“You can come in,” he said. “This is your home too.”

You slid the door open, just enough to squeeze through. Your attention was utterly transfixed on his bleeding shoulder. You could see the wound was a thin stripe. It was not deep so stitches were not necessary, but it was slightly out of his reach as it sloped towards his back.

“Oh, Hyunjin,” you said, thoughtlessly taking the rag right out of his hands.

In spite of the violence that raised you, or maybe because of it, you can’t stand to see suffering. You and Hyunjin have had that in common from the start. You were quick to help him clean the wound, wordlessly wiping all the blood then applying cream across the clotted cut.

He flinched when the stinging cream made contact. You went to apologize but your words evaporated when your eyes met through the mirror. You were surprised to find him already looking at you, that expressive gaze as thoughtful as ever.

“How did this happen?” you couldn’t help but ask, eyes rivetted to his reflection. “You – you have people to protect you.” You managed to rip your gaze away, looking at your task, feeling hot in the face.

“I do,” he said. “But I’d never ask someone to do something I’m not willing to do myself.”

This did not surprise you to hear. It is obvious that Hyunjin cares very deeply about the wellbeing of other people. It is a fact known to few. It aggravates you at times, but his reputation does not seem to bother him. He would rather people think him a monster while he secretly does good rather than be praised in public while cruel in private.

You have never known another man like him. Looking at that scar that night, the realization truly struck you.

Your fingers began to tremble where they brushed his bare skin, your eyes widening as you looked at the scar and many others. If something happened to him, what would become of you? Certainly, as his widow, you would be financially sound, but what did that matter? This world would lose something irreplaceable if it lost Hwang Hyunjin. This penthouse could be brimming with silver and gold and it would be empty, worthless.

Tears in your eyes, you succumbed to desire, kissing him very gently on his hurt shoulder.

“Hyunjin,” you said, your eyes closed, lips grazing his skin as you spoke. “Please make sure you always come home, okay?”

He did not answer at first. When you lifted your eyes and looked in the mirror, those dark eyes were so enflamed that you were surprised nothing caught fire.

“Hyunjin?” you said softly.

“You mean that,” he said, not quite a question, more like a realization.

“Of course,” you replied. You looked at his scarred back again, let your fingertips brush down the length of his spine. It made him stand a little straighter. “Have you ever known me to lie?” you asked.

He finally turned around, looking at you with an long-engrained wariness, but also a hunger. He was a starving man presented with a banquet, but one who did not easily trust when sitting at someone else’s table.

“You’re a smart woman,” he said. “I know that. And I know that you’re – good.”

Good was an exhale, like the word was too heavy for his tongue. You realized that his wariness was less suspicion for you than hesitation regarding himself. He was only starving because he though himself undeserving of the meal he wanted.

“You’ve seen – and done – many bad things tonight, haven’t you?” you asked.

Having the full force of his gaze was overwhelmingly heady. You remember how it made your heart race like you were being chased, your breath catching over and over until you were almost panting.

Arousal struck quickly, a sensation like you never experienced before. You thought you understood attraction, but not until that moment when he released a breath, so close to your face, and you became truly aware of his proximity. Of him, of all that he was, all that he did. His character, his hidden depths.

Your husband.

It made your racing heart thunder something fierce, your blood pumping hotly, throbbing places you did not know were so sensitive.

You desperately wondered what was on his mind. The gears in his head were spinning and whirring, delaying his response. Was he feeling the same tension? Were his thoughts the same realization?

My wife.

“Yes,” he finally said.

“Is there something I can do to help?” you asked.

His tattooed hand cupped your head, tilting it just so. It made your lips part with a gasp, eyelids heavy with anticipation for a kiss.

He took his time looking at you, like he was scrubbing all those bad memories away, replacing them with the flustered look on his aroused wife’s face.

“Yes,” he said again, and kissed you for the first time.

You were so glad he rebuffed your previous half-hearted advances, clumsy seductions made out of obligation rather than desire. It was so different to that kiss. You would not have known how to even ask for a kiss like that. You never knew what you were missing.

Your quiet husband and his multitudes. All that simmering intensity, hot just below the surface of his icy demeanour, burned right through his skin. His kiss was ravishing, entirely possessive, like he wished to take your whole essence into him and hold it forever.

He walked you backwards. With a snap of his wrist, he slid the door open the rest of the way, so sharp that it tried to bounce back. He continued onward, kissing you until you were dizzy with it.

He picked you up just to put you on the bed himself. Your kiss separated only then as you landed with a bounce and a breath.

He loomed over the edge of the bed, this man who was both stranger and husband, hero and villain. He looked at you like he already loved you. He looked at you and saw the reciprocation. You had fallen for him without realizing you had ever even stumbled.

He ran his hands through his hair, the sleek black locks fluttering back into place. His eyes were still rivetted to your face, to your body. You were wearing the nightdress you are wearing now. It is why it became your favourite.

He looked down at you, the material translucent enough to see the details of your body. It broke through that last layer of ice. He surrendered with a choked breath.

He unclasped a holster on his thigh, dropped a knife that was hidden in a pocket. Once unarmed, his hands went to his belt. You watched those nimble, efficient fingers, swallowing hard. You were aching to an embarrassing degree, undoubtedly obvious in your desires. No one ever warned you it would feel like this, just being looked at, never mind touched.

Then his belt was on the floor and he touchedyou for real. His calloused hands moved up your thighs, pushing the nightdress up and out of his way. He climbed on top of you, swift as a feline, mouth descending onto yours with that same desperate hunger as before.

Recollection makes you crave another kiss. You think you will always be starving for more.

“Hyunjin,” you whispered, hands on his face, his shoulders, down to his chest.

He took your hands and laced your fingers with his, pinning those hands to the bed. He kissed you again, long and slow. It was all more sensual than desperate.

His voice, however, was desperate when he begged, “Let me make you feel good, please.” He kissed down your face, your jaw, your throat. “Please, my wife.” He kissed further down still, through your nightdress, tracing the curve of your breast with his tongue, wetting the material and awakening every nerve beneath it. “My wife,” he repeated.

“My husband.” The words left your lips in a dizzy, delirious whisper.

It was all the confirmation he needed. Those deft and skilled hands, so quick to assemble weapons and pull triggers, applied themselves with a startling gentleness. He took you apart and put you together with the same efficient ease.

He hooked his fingers in the only material between him and his desire, tugged it out of his way. His fingers went to you, slipping through all that wetness. Those intense eyes rolled back even though it was just his fingers inside you, then he closed his eyes like it was too much, and it seemed he had to temper himself, murmuring nonsense as he let his fingers sink into you.

He kissed you again, drinking down every sigh and gasp and moan while he fucked you with his long fingers. It was like he could taste your pleasure, like he was trying to get drunk on it, every noise you made filling his mouth. He gave them back and brought you over a peak, first with his hands, then with his mouth. He laid between your legs and put your thighs around his head, losing himself entirely in you.

He did not remove a single article of your clothing nor his pants, not that first time. He simply held the material to the side as he unzipped and finally got inside you. It made your whole body keen, coming to life like it never had before. You forgot all your sensibilities and let every wanton sound and action loose.

He responded in kind. His kiss tasted like your pleasure, his heart pounding as fast as yours where your chests pressed together. You were careful near his injured shoulder, fingertips dodging scars. Your soft touch made him whimper, this powerful man entirely undone by a few caresses.

His skin was hot and he worked up a sweat, but his stamina seemed endless. He always wanted more.

You fell asleep tucked in his arms, content to believe the walls had crumbled. However, they revealed themselves in the morning light, as concrete as ever. He slipped away and left a note to excuse his absence as he was called away to business. You thought about phoning or messaging him, but those lines were not always secure, not for such intimate conversations.

When he returned a few days later, he hid behind those concrete walls, but too much had changed. There was now an awareness of your proximity and your distance. The lack of intimacy was not called into question before, the absence of something being a nothing. But now that nothing was something, or had been something for a moment, and it made you both very aware of how it was now missing – and anticipating always when it might again appear.

He tried very hard to keep away, to stay cordial at best, his habitual quietude even heavier than before. But while his silence was significant, so was his glance. Every time you turned around, he was already looking at you, a longing in his eyes and a thought on his lips that he never dared to speak aloud.

You granted him some distance for a time. When it became abundantly obvious he was holding himself in check, you realized that your own vulnerability was required to bridge the gap.

One night you crossed through the bathroom, slid open the door on his side. You found him at his desk, dressed down in a white dress shirt and pants. His blazer was discarded on the floor, his face still made up.

He stood quickly when you entered, though he didn’t say anything.

It was strange to imagine this man would need any reassurance, but you felt that was the case. His fingers fidgeted at his sides, his roving eyes studious.

You said nothing. You approached him, laid your hands on his chest, and gently guided him back into his chair. He sat slowly, his eyes on your face the entire time, even when he had to tip his head back to peer up at you.

You ran your fingers through his hair. When you entered the room, his face was tightly screwed in an expression of aggravation, but all those harsh lines softened as you traced a thumb down the sharp slope of his cheek.

There were some wipes on his desk. You took one and began to carefully remove that shield of dark make-up. His hand lifted but not to stop you, simply to rest his palm on your waist. He began to really touch you, feeling the shape of your body through your robe as you helped him come back to himself.

“Hello,” you finally said, looking at his bare face. Still impossibly beautiful.

“Hello,” he replied.

His fingertips dipped towards the hem of the robe. Before he could distract you with your own pleasure, you sunk to your knees in front of him. This startled him, his hand frozen in the air as you fit yourself between his open knees.

He caught your hand, his reflexes fast, before it could reach his fly. You could see he was already affected, a heavy bulge in the black material making your mouth water and core tighten.

He squeezed your hand and you looked up at his face. He tipped his head, blinked rapidly, an expression of mild confusion.

You took your hand back and unknotted your robe. The silk fell from your shoulders and down, sliding like water right off your body. You were completedly naked underneath.

It clarified everything, his confusion gone, replaced with surprise.

“You—” he began. It was interrupted when you put your head in his lap, resting on his thigh. You led his hand to the back of your neck and kissed him through his pants. It made his fingers clasp tighter around you.

“Please,” you said.

He would never deny you anything. Not the smallest gift nor grandest gesture. When you started a new charity to further your combined philanthropic efforts, he spared no expense in aiding the endeavour. You shared passions, and now you shared this.

He was stiff at the start, but gradually let himself go lax in his seat. His hand kept a steady grip on the back of your neck, not guiding but holding, like he thought you might disappear otherwise. He murmured your name, letting his head fall back as you worked him in your mouth.

You intended to make him finish like that, seeking nothing for yourself at that precise moment. He had other ideas, needing more of your shared pleasure to take him over that brink.

He lifted your face, adjusted his pants, and was on his feet in a matter of seconds. That hand on your neck dragged you up, up, up until your naked body was pressed against his clothed one. He clung to you needily, claiming your mouth in a wanting kiss.

His hands moved over you, every new inch of skin making him moan as he walked you towards the bed. The kiss only broke when you both sat down, his lips against yours as he breathed, almost smiling, “My pretty wife.”

“Hyunjin,” you said, shaking your head, feeling suddenly shy just because of a simple compliment.

He did not allow you to curl into yourself with any shame. When you tried, he seized you, pulling you onto his lap so you straddled it. His eyes moved up and down your body, hands following, from your thighs to hips to waist and up.

“What are you doing?” you said, laughing helplessly when he kissed somewhere ticklish on your throat. The sound made him smile, even softer than before, though it turned a little wicked as his mouth went lower.

“I’m simply enjoying the view,” he said, then wrapped his lips around the stiff peak of your breast, ran his tongue up and over. He licked and kissed back up to your mouth. “It’s not everyday I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

As he said this, he opened his pants again, eyes on yours as he grabbed your thighs and moved you so he could thrust up into you. His hips moved with a slow roll, letting you adjust to him. It had been a little while, and this angle was different.

And Hyunjin is not small. Your husband is built in perfect proportion, his body a long, hard, slender build – everything inside you at that moment was no exception. This angle made you whimper, clinging to him like he was a life preserver in a storm. The roll of his hips kept coming like waves and you were sure you would drown otherwise.

Your arms were around his neck, his graceful but strong hands digging into the meat of your thighs as he fucked you. He felt impossibly deep, every upward stroke feeling like it was bursting past something, pushing everything inside your body up to your throat.

You swallowed again and again, the taste of him still on your lips, the feel of him inside every inch of you. You clenched and tightened involuntarily, just pure animal reaction, and it made him moan and find all those sweet spots to make it happen again.

“Help,” was your somewhat nonsensical request, blurted in the midst of some moaning babbling.

Fortunately, he was and is a smart man. He understood. He clasped you tight to his body and fell back on the bed, thrusting up into you with sharper, more focussed determination, faster until you were weeping on his chest, delirious with pleasure. His shirt was unbuttoned and you accidentally ripped a few buttons right off, trying to press your face to bare skin.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you said as you tumbled over a height you never reached before. You never knew you could come just from that, stimulated somewhere so deep inside you, but it made you come undone in his arms.

He watched you unravel and it made him follow, clinging to you as he just barely pulled out before coming between your dripping thighs. It was all so messy and wet, your legs trembling, but it felt so good that it hardly mattered.

He caught his breath, then looked at your face just lose that breath again. He moaned and dragged you in for another kiss.

Then you were on your back, the night far from over.

That second night is the one that truly opened the door to more. Though your husband can be reticent in other regards, he is not quiet when he is inside you. You have come together again and again, a conversation with your bodies as you look for pleasure in a dangerous world. You always find it, tucked in the protective circle of his arms, wrapped around every inch of him.

You have been out of his arms for too long. Your visit to your family grew tedious before long. Your home is with Hyunjin now and you were eager to return.

Now it seems you may never see it again. You may never see him again.

No.

Just like the night when you took control for yourself, you must take control now. You realize if anything is to happen, then you must take the reins of your own rescue. You would not want Hyunjin to compromise himself or his important business. You know if something bad happened to you, it would weigh on his conscious, even if it was the better business decision. You must eliminate the need for choice.

It turns out, comical rope bindings are truly best suited for silly movies. When the men come to check on you again, you have slipped free of your bindings. There was an array of weapons in the room, so carelessly disposed because the assailants never assumed you would get free – or, if you did get free, that you would not know how to use them.

It is true, you do not like violence.

That does not mean you do not understand it.

You leave the two men unconscious in their basement. Unfortunately, you cannot find your suitcase and you do not want to hang around, so you venture outside in your nightgown. You are debating your next move when a car pulls into the driveway.

You back away quickly, raising the gun you stole as more men get out of the vehicle. You only stay your hand because you recognize one of them, though it takes a second to place him as one of Hyunjin’s lieutenants.

Then Hyunjin emerges. You have seen your husband before and after a confrontation, but never during it. If you thought he was an intimidating figure in the aftermath, he is all danger and darkness as he storms up the driveway now. There is such an energy radiating from him, it makes you stumble and forget yourself entirely.

Then he stumbles, recognizing you. You are both startled, staring at each other with the gun raised between you.

He looks nowhere but your eyes.

“Hyunjin?” you finally say.

“I—” He looks at you, the gun, the nightdress. He shakes his head. Some of that bravado returns when he says, “I’m here to save you.”

“Ah,” you say. You slowly lower the gun, at a loss how to reply. You were so resigned to the idea this was all still business. The reality of your husband risking himself to rescue you from unknown hostiles is making your heart pound.

In the end, all you can think to say is, “Sorry. You’re late.”

That wicked smile crosses his face, his tongue pushing at the corner of his mouth. He is suddenly nothing but amused, looking at you, then at the house.

“I can see that,” he says.

He whistles sharply and gestures to the house with a gloved hand. His lieutenants run past you and charge the door, no doubt heading inside to finish the job you started.

You turn to watch them go. In your distraction, Hyunjin grabs your arm. He is fast, effectively disarming you. He catches the gun with a twirl before tossing it aside.

It is not the gun he wants; it’s you.

Still holding your wrist, he tugs you into him. You throw your arms around him. The hug is surprisingly chaste, his face in your neck as he squeezes you like it is the only thing keeping him alive and standing.

“Are you hurt?” he asks.

When in his arms, it seems impossible to consider you could ever feel any pain.

You shake your head, daring to kiss his cheek. He turns his face to yours, your lips close enough to brush in a swipe.

“I’m all right now,” you say. “Sorry I beat you to the punch. I – I wasn’t sure if—”

His brow crinkles. That gloved hand goes from your wrist to your chin, seizing it between thumb and forefinger. He tips your head so he can look at your face. He always regards you like he does one of his masterpieces, like he can never get his fill, like there is always something new to find. He is enchanted every time.

“You’re mine,” he says. “And I take care of what belongs to me.”

You gasp when those fingers go from your chin to your throat, just enough to pull you in that last breath of a space. He kisses you there in the sunlight, utterly shameless.

“Do not ever doubt that,” he says. His eyes are soft with his affection, but his voice is hard, skirting the edge of a threat he would issue an adversary. It makes you tingle from head to toe. “Do I need to remind you?”

You never actually answer. You are not sure if your answer would have made a difference, as Hyunjin is determined to show you the very second you are home.

You reach the penthouse. There is no time to shower or decompress once you cross the threshhold. He sweeps you off your feet, your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist. You are wearing his blazer over your nightdress to preserve your modesty – not that it will last long.

He carries you to the bedroom where so many slow and subtle exchanges took place. Now, he is not slow or subtle. He is a force of nature. He tells you that he held no greater fear than losing you and he tried to keep his distance, but he regretted it the moment he saw you on that video call.

“You’re my wife,” he says, peeling his blazer off your body. “I’m your husband. There is nothing I should be holding back.”

“Yes,” you say, running your fingers through that smooth black hair. You shiver as he bunches the fabric of your nightdress, the material spilling over his fingers. “Don’t hold back,” you say, mouth open against his, stealing his every breath. “Do whatever you want.”

He tells you exactly what he wants, using his words for a change, finally letting those walls come down. He whispers every filthy thought into your ear, between kisses, between bites. You shiver at every suggestion.

And so, moments later, he is sitting on your bed. He arranges you to lay across his lap, facedown in the pillows while he runs his hands down your spine and over the curve of your ass.

“You’re my wife,” he says. The first tap of his open palm is through the thin material of your nightdress. It is truly just a warning tap, just enough to make you bounce. “Don’t ever doubt me again,” he says, swinging that strong hand a little harder.

This time a yelp escapes your lips. You wriggle until he pins you down, a hand on the back of your neck and the other lifting your dress. He already stripped your underthings, his open palm smoothing down all that bare skin.

You tingle with anticipation, braced yet still unprepared for the sharp smack he next delivers. You feel it tingle all the way up to your head, as well as the next one, and the next. You squirm under his firm grip, groaning his name as your thighs get tense and press together.

“Don’t say my name,” he says, and smacks you again. “Who am I?”

“M-my husband,” you say, practically mewling like a kitten when he next brings his hand down. “My husband,” you say again.

“And you are—”

“Your wife,” you say, though it comes out almost like a sob, a desperate gasp as he slips his fingers between your thighs and finds a new way to torture you. With your backside hot and stinging, the pleasure of his hand in that sensitive place feels amplified by a tenfold.

“Husband,” you say, hips bucking. His free hand goes from the back of your neck to your lower spine, holding you in his lap as he slowly finger-fucks you.

“Yes?” he says.

You do not even remember what you were going to say, or beg, or plead. You are overcome with sensation, tingling all over, intensifying the press of his fingers as he curls his fingers into that soft, soft place. Then you are really squirming, helplessly, instinctively, whining into the pillows.

“I make you feel good,” he says. “I take care of you. You, who are so good, and so smart, but so—”

You cry out when he angles his hand just a little differently. Your vision swims with stars as he speeds up.

“So soft,” he says, his own voice going soft, just a whisper as he makes you come all over his hand in a throbbing, aching, desperate wet mess. “Just for me,” he says in that whisper. “Just for your husband.”

“Mmmf,” is all the response you have left in you.

Your thighs are trembling and your pussy throbbing with aftershocks when he picks you up. He stands and turns, laying you on your side in the bed. You are grateful, as your backside still stings, though you suspect he is not done yet.

He strips out of his clothes, tearing through his shirt, leaving the pants in a heap. He forgets to remove his necklace. All that silver is cold against your hot skin as he lays down behind you. You do not have time to linger on it, as he gathers up the hem of your dress and adjusts himself behind you.

He has taken you many times, in many ways, many positions. When you are on your hands and knees, he is overtaken by a primal urge, your hips as leverage in his hands as he pounds into you like it is a chase. When you are on your back, he sinks into you slowly and deeply, rocking his hips into yours like he intends to fuck you forever. When you are in his lap, he rolls his hips in steady, needy waves, captivated by the sight of you in his arms.

He lays behind you now and wraps his arms around you, coaxes your thighs apart. Your nightdress is bunched every which way, leaving nothing to the imagination, and you feel especially exposed and vulnerable in this position somehow. Perhaps it is the fact he is the one holding you open, keeping you in position so he can take you.

You let yourself fall into it, fall into him. You let him tell you, with words and actions, exactly how he feels.

Before it ends, you change position. He lays back and you straddle his hips while stripping off your dress entirely. He keeps rolling up into you, only stopping when you plant your hands on his chest to slow him down. Then he practically sinks in the mattress, murmuring your name. His make-up is smudged, his calloused hands rough on your body. Whatever pains you experienced have been overtaken by his hands, by the smarting on your backside, still tender as you bring your body down onto his again and again. He has completely claimed you for himself and you take the same in turn.

“Hyunjin,” you say. “My husband, oh—”

He kisses your hand, long and hard, like he needs his mouth on some part of you desperately. Your fingers are curled into his pretty mouth when he comes, his hands on your hips and his cock buried inside you.

“Oh,” is your final sound before you slump on top of him, skin to skin.

He rolls you onto your side, though he keeps you wrapped around him, his arms around you in turn. His hair is already a sweaty mess and you rub your thumb through some of his shadowy make-up, but those familiar dark eyes are gazing at you with so much warmth. There is no more ice, no more cold concrete.

“I should let you rescue me more often,” you say with a laugh.

He doesn’t laugh back, but he does smile softly. It should be incongruous with his severe appearance, but it somehow comes together, layers of him exposed all at once as he strokes your cheek.

He looks at you like his favourite work of art.

“You were the one who rescued you,” he says. “Just like you rescued me.”

You cannot find the words to reply, so you kiss him. It speaks volumes, and he replies, kissing back.

You lose yourself to the sweetness, to the heat, to the passion, to all those things more, knowing there are many more to come with this man as your husband.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x you #hyunjin x you #skz x you #valentinesdaystories

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hoshifighting · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I love your work 🥹 I hope you are well

Just wanna ask your thoughts on how the seventeen members would react to see you driving speed / you being fast on connected apps like ‘Find My’ heheheeheh

Thank you ❤️

a/n: thank u sweetie, i loved it!! im doing well!! <33 i hope i understood well.. like a gearhead girlfriend?... made w/ luv ❤️

WARNINGS: mentions of breakig the speed limit

seungcheol: “yo yo yo, slow the fuck down, we ain’t tryna die today!!” he’s literally shouting through the app, and you could almost see him gripping the imaginary 'oh shit' handle in the backseat. he loves you, but he’s lowkey shitting bricks rn, “bruh, this ain't fast & furious... i swear if we crash, it’s on you.”

jeonghan: sigh “baby, why you gotta be like this?” he’s too cool to actually panic, but you can feel him judging the fuck outta you. he’ll make you feel like the most irresponsible person alive while also making it clear he’s kinda impressed. “next time, let me drive so we don’t both end up with speeding tickets… but like… you kinda look hot doing it though, not gonna lie.” he’s smirking on the other side of the screen.

joshua: “ok but like… are we trying to break a record or what?” he’s nervous but trying to stay calm, but you can tell he’s clutching his pearls behind that smooth tone. “maybe, uh, we could slow down just a tiny bit? just a suggestion...” definitely trying not to freak out completely, but he’s one bad swerve from straight-up praying.

jun’s all for it, honestly. he’s got his phone up to show the speedometer on his end, clearly thriving. “you wanna hit 120? bet, i’m down, let’s fucking go!” jun’s just living it, probably snapping selfies like it’s no big deal while the car’s shaking at 90 mph.

hoshi: “wait—WAIT! y/n, no no NO, what the hell?? slow down before i shit my pants.” he close his eyes, dramatic as fuck, genuinely convinced y’all are about to fly off the highway. nearly crying as he clutches his phone. “i got shit to do tomorrow!! i can’t die today, not like this!”

wonwoo’s just... chillin’. he doesn’t really say much at first. just sends a simple, “you good?” text. he’s the only one calm in this whole situation. when you don’t respond right away, he hits you with, “bet you won’t keep up with the guy in the ferrari tho...” and you’re like, oh shit. he’s egging you on. he's vibing with the chaos, but lowkey wants to see how far you'll take it.

woozi: “y/n, you better chill the fuck out.” straight-up scolding you. no fluff, just pure frustration. jihoon’s too rational for this speed demon shit, and he’s already calculating how much the damn fine’s gonna be if you get caught. “if you crash, you better hope i’m not in the car, ‘cause i ain’t helping your ass.” classic jihoon—pissed, but still kinda impressed at your audacity.

seokmin: “YO, SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!” pure panic in his voice,like he’s watching a horror movie. “do you wanna give me a heart attack? holy shit!!” he’s basically pleading with you at this point, full-on hands shaking, worried sick like a damn mother hen. “i’m way too pretty to die like this, please, for the love of god, just slow down.”

mingyu: WELL THIS MAN HAVE LICENSE FOR IT, no fear at all. “you drive like a fucking beast, lemme hop in the car next time.” he’s fully living for the thrill, no reservations whatsoever. he’s gassing you up like no one would. adrenaline junkie.

minghao’s already over it. deadpan as fuck. “why you gotta stress me like this? i’m way too zen for this shit.”

seungkwan: “OKAY STOP! STOP! i didn’t sign up for this kinda trauma. you tryna die young, huh?!” yelling in the app for you to pull over before he passes out from sheer anxiety. “i’m never getting in a car with you ever again, swear on my life.”

vernon: “i mean, if we crash, we crash. kinda sick though, right?” no panic, no complaints, just lowkey impressed. “but like… how fast can you actually go?”

chan: “y/n, this isn’t a fucking video game!” poor baby is stressed out, clenching his fists like his life’s on the line. “i can’t do this. my heart can’t handle this. you tryna give me a heart attack?!” genuinely scared shitless. “you really gotta slow down before i fucking pass out in the toilet bro”

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moomine · 27 days ago

Note

Dad swansea and reader x daisuke established relationship

black friday | daisuke

author's note: this is based on the q&a where the devs said swansea was a sneakerhead lol. i love love love the concept of dad-swansea sm!! it actually maybe sorta kinda has me brainstorming another series.. thank you for the request! (cover image credit)

summary: (daisuke x f!reader) (modern au?) The semester is over and winter break has just begun. You and Daisuke met on campus and have been dating for a while now. When it's time for him to finally meet your dad, Swansea, he insists on getting him something for the season.

word count: 2,661

warnings: no trigger warnings (all fluff here)! all characters are 18+

now playing: Drugdealer, Kate Bollinger - "Pictures of You"

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

The mall was a bustling hellscape. Packed like sardines, people pushed and shoved as they tried to meander from place to place. The line for the shoe store wrapped around the corner, down a long, wide hall, and into the food court. You stood side by side with Daisuke, your coat rustling as you hugged yourself. A cold draft blew past as other customers came and went through the grand entrance, each time causing a shiver to rake through you harshly. Daisuke, who was previously twisting his silver rings out of an anxious habit, stopped and began running his hands up and down the length of your arms. The friction of his hands sent waves of much-appreciated warmth throughout your body. You looked up at him, a grateful smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, breathing a sigh of relief.

“Of course. It won’t be so bad once we get ‘round the corner.” Daisuke peeked over your head and past the line, peering ahead to see how much longer it would take. It was moving at a snail’s pace, and all he could think about was empty shelves. In the nightmare of worst-case scenarios running rampant in his mind, the sneakers he had been keeping a watchful eye on for months were already sold out. Daisuke’s brows furrowed as he caught his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing at the soft skin absentmindedly.

“Maybe we should have gotten here earlier,” you observed, glancing around at the line of people as it only grew larger. You turned back to your boyfriend with a sympathetic expression, features softening as you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to do this. Y’know that, right? My dad will be happy just to meet you at all.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. I absolutely do.” He laughed nervously, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and using his now free hand to run his fingers through his hair. “You’re, like, the most important person in my life. Your dad has to like me, he just has to. If he doesn’t I might straight up disappear. POOF! Daisuke’s gone, vanished into thin air.”

“You gotta relax. He’s gonna love you, I know he will,” you replied, leaning into him for a little extra warmth.

Daisuke held you tighter and shook his head apprehensively. “I just gotta make sure. I really, really want to make a good impression.”

“And you will! You wanna know how I know?” you asked, shifting under his arm so you were facing him. The line moved up and so did the two of you.

He nodded, eyes filling with admiration as his gaze fell from the line before you two to your face. God, he loved your face. No matter how hard he tried, he could never understand how a guy like him got so lucky. Daisuke knew he was a pretty good-looking guy, but you were gorgeous. Must have been his charming personality and impeccable sense of style.

“I know because you’re kind. ‘Cause you have a good heart and you care so much. My dad’s a good judge of character, he’ll see that.” Daisuke opened his mouth to protest, but you raised a finger and pressed it to his lips before he could. “Hey, I’m not finished. So what you don’t know what you want to be yet? You’re ambitious and talented, and you’ve got time. Don’t stress about that, ‘kay? He won’t care, I promise.”

“Can I talk now?” Daisuke asked, your finger still pressed against his lips.

“You may,” you replied with a playful grin, your hand dropping to your side once again.

“I know I technically don’t have to, but I’m gonna get these shoes and impress the pants off your dad,” he stated, all proud until he had the chance to process what it was he had said. “That didn’t come out right…”

You laughed, taking another step forward as the line continued to move up.

A couple of weeks had passed since Daisuke bought those sneakers. Finals season came and went, ushered out by the frantic wrap-up of the fall semester and the introduction to winter break. It was early December when the two of you finally drove back home, meaning it had finally come time for your boyfriend to meet your parents.

The entire way there Daisuke was a nervous mess. That anxiety only intensified the moment you were leading him to the front door of your family’s home. On top of the gifts he was already carrying, Daisuke had insisted on still carrying the bulk of your luggage inside as well. With one hand he held his presents to your folks, and in the other, he used to pull your suitcase behind him; your backpack was slung over his shoulders. He said it was about chivalry or something like that. As you stepped onto the front porch an onslaught of barking erupted from just beyond the door.

“Lucy! C’mon, old girl, that's enough!” your dad, Swansea, shouted from inside the house.

You turned to smile at Daisuke only to notice his attention was busy elsewhere. He looked down at the gifts in his arms, biting at his lips. After a moment he noticed you had stopped and his gaze drifted back to you, offering you a timid smile of his own. You reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, keeping it there as you began to rub small, comforting circles against the wooly fabric of his coat.

“It’s gonna be okay,” you whispered in a soft tone.

Daisuke looked down at the gifts in his hands, then back to you with a quick nod.

Now with his approval, you unlatched your keys from your belt loop and unlocked the door. As it swung open with a familiar groan, Lucy, your elderly border collie, came stumbling up to the doorway as she barked an excited ‘hello’. The dark patches of her fur were speckled with long, white hairs and her eyes held a little gray in them. She breathed heavily from her mouth, panting with her tongue hanging out. She looked from you to Daisuke, just as excited to see his new face as your well-known one.

“Hi, mama.” You knelt to her level, petting her head with one hand and scratching her chin with the other. “I’m home!” you shouted into the house.

The smells of garlic and onion wafted from the direction of the kitchen. Daisuke closed the door behind him, looking around the entryway with a curious eye. It dawned on him at that moment that he was standing in your childhood home. Over the course of your life, you had walked in and out of that very entryway countless times —going to school, coming home from your first job at that local coffee shop, leaving for prom or practice.

“Took you long enough,” Swansea called back as he made his way from the kitchen to the two of you. “I was startin’ to worry you wouldn’t make it in time for dinner.”

Swansea stood in the doorway of the kitchen, a red apron that read ‘Kiss the cook’ tied loosely around his torso —one of the many stupid Father’s Day presents your mom had gotten him over the years. You stood up quickly, racing to him with open arms. He eagerly took you into a tight hug, his clothes and skin smelling faintly of 3-in-1 soap and motor oil.

“Haha. How about a ‘welcome home’ or ‘I missed you so much’?” you said sarcastically as you pulled away from him.

“Welcome home, kid. I missed you.” Swansea’s normal gruff tone of voice was much softer as he spoke to you.

Daisuke stood awkwardly by the front door, still carrying your belongings as well as his own. You glanced over your shoulder with a wide smile and motioned toward him. “Oh! Dad, this is Daisuke. Daisuke, this is my dad.” You took a step back, allowing the two of them to get a better view of one another.

His eyes shot from Lucy, who was now lying at his feet, and toward your dad. Almost too quickly, Daisuke let go of the suitcase and took a long step toward Swansea. He extended his hand, ready to shake, and adorned a toothy smile. The gifts along his other arm wobbled as he reached your father, which he clumsily saved from falling at the last minute.

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Daisuke said.

“That so? Looks like you got a lot on your plate, son.” Swansea took his hand, holding it firmly as he shook it. Daisuke did his best to match his grip, almost squeezing too hard. Swansea motioned with a nod to your luggage still on Daisuke’s person, along with the gifts in his arms.

“What this? Nothing I can’t handle,” your boyfriend replied, almost smugly. “These are actually for you. Well, and your wife.”

“I think we’re gonna go take my stuff upstairs,” you butt in, looking between the two with a slightly worried expression.

“All right then. Your mom’ll be home soon, dinner’s on in fifteen. I’m makin’ paella.” Swansea turned around with a skeptical look. “Sound good?”

“Sounds perfect. Thank you, dad!”

Once the two of you were upstairs, it became incredibly clear that Daisuke’s anxiety had intensified greatly. As the two of you walked through the threshold into your room, he let out a quiet sigh —both out of relief and distress. Over the semester, your room had become closer to a memory and now, as you returned to it exactly as you had left it, it had become an almost nostalgic sight. It was exactly as Daisuke had imagined. The pale blue walls were littered with band posters and pictures of you with friends from high school. You had everything you’d expect in a student’s room. In one corner, snugged away and smothered in soft blankets and pillows, was a full-sized bed. In another were a mismatched desk and dresser. Daisuke could easily see you sitting at that desk, engaging with one of your many hobbies or finishing up some assignments. The visual managed to make a small smile creep onto his lips, but it faltered quickly when he heard Swansea on the phone with your mother just downstairs.

“He hates me, I can already tell,” Daisuke said. He carefully set down your luggage as well as the gifts, tucking them away nicely on your desk.

“You don’t know that. My dad’s just like that with everyone at first, but he always warms up eventually. I promise.” You sat on your bed, pulling your shoes from your feet and tossing them in different directions.

To keep himself from pacing, Daisuke took a seat beside you before flopping back into the comforter. The plush blanket quickly engulfed him as he rested an arm over his eyes. With a little laugh, you laid down on your side next to him, caressing his face with your hand. It felt soft against his skin as you cupped his cheek. His arm fell back to his side as he leaned into your touch, letting out a content sigh at the comfort that alone brought him. His eyes trailed over your face with that same lovesick adoration he normally harbored while looking at you —a stare that said more than he ever could with words. He knew he would never get tired of looking at you.

“It’s going to be okay,” you finally said, pressing your forehead against his. “I love you.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he tried to melt into you. Like it was second nature, Daisuke tilted his head ever so slightly to the side and closed the gap between the two of you. Sparks of electricity tingled against your lips as he kissed you softly. Abandoning their posts, his hands found their proper positions —one on your hip and the other along the back of your neck— and pulled you closer. You couldn’t help but smile against his lips as he kissed you, your chest becoming light at his touch.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, keeping his forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he breathed, sounding far more relaxed than before. “So much.”

His gaze met yours once more, and it looked like he was going in for another kiss. Just as you felt his breath against your cupid’s bow, there was a knock at the door, followed by the sound of Swansea clearing his throat.

“C’mon, get your asses up. I’m makin’ you set the table before your mother gets home. I want it to look nice for her, understood?” Your dad looked between the two of you with that questionable face Daisuke was starting to become accustomed to. He then turned around, shaking his head from side to side.

Dinner was a surprisingly quick affair. To nobody’s surprise, Swansea’s paella was a hit —other than a couple of gripes from your mother who had grown sick of the dish. She fell in love with Daisuke from the first second she saw him, and she only loved him more when he got comfortable enough to talk. After everyone was finished eating, Daisuke insisted on helping clean up and he did so happily. While your mom stepped outside to smoke a cigarette, Swansea, Daisuke, and you sat in the living room as your dad began to open his gift.

Swansea tore into the wrapping paper, eyes going wide when he saw the brightly colored shoebox beneath. He looked up from the present in his hands, and his gaze fell to Daisuke with an expression of pure disbelief.

“Son, I-” he started before promptly getting cut off by you.

“Just open it, dad.”

Daisuke shifted beside you as Swansea discarded the rest of the wrapping paper. He leaned forward, elbows resting on either of his knees as he bit at his lower lip. Swansea ran his hand along the top of the box and slowly opened it. After lifting the tissue paper and getting a proper look at the sneakers underneath, Swansea turned to your boyfriend again.

“These aren’t easy to come by. How on earth did you get them?”

“I, uh- well, we camped out for them. [Name] told me you had been checking out a pair online for a while, and I thought I’d save you the effort,” Daisuke responded, running a hand along the back of his neck. “It was totally worth it. I got a super good deal on ‘em and everything.”

“Thank you.” Your dad just nodded with the faintest smile on his face. Although his words were simple, cut, and dry, it was obvious to you and Daisuke alike that he was truly grateful.

“Of course. I’m really happy you like them,” Daisuke said. He was practically glowing, beaming with pride as he looked from Swansea to you. He mouthed an oblivious ‘hell yeah’ in celebration.

Later that night while you were getting ready for bed, Daisuke ventured down the upstairs hallway toward the bathroom. Along the way, he passed your parents' room. Through the crack in the door, a narrow stream of light illuminated the otherwise darkened hall. Daisuke froze in place as he overheard your mom and Swansea talking from inside.

“So, what did you think of him? He’s just a delight. Isn’t he, hun?” Your mom questioned.

“Who? Daisuke?” Swansea replied. The springs within the mattress groaned as he eased himself into bed. “The boy seems like a good man. I like him for her. She needs someone who’ll help her loosen up. Poor girl is too damn high-strung.”

Realizing he probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, Daisuke rushed to the bathroom with a look of pride on his face. Your dad liked him. Better yet, Swansea thought he was good for you. That was a better gift than anything he could have hoped for.

#reader #x reader #reader insert #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing daisuke #mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #daisuke #fem reader #curly mouthwashing #swansea mouthwashing #jimmy mouthwashing #anya mouthwashing

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darlingdaisyfarm · 25 days ago

Text

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚 ˖° a day at the beach with the Pines twins headcanons

author note: okay, this is kinda a “what if au” where Stan never got kicked out of home (Filbrick I hate you), meaning he and Ford stayed together in new jersey and grew there too

u can imagine Stan with his mullet and twins being like… i bet you seen those edited screenshots of them where they are young and look like cousins of Mabel and Dipper? IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN I’m so sorry

Stan x reader x Ford, nsfw? (mostly it’s just wholesome and intimate but there’s mentions of sex still)

✧ Stan’s got you perched on his shoulders for a fight in the water and he’s talking shit the entire time, calling Ford “the human string bean” and yelling, “ya better hold on, sweetheart, ‘cause i ain’t lettin’ this nerd win!” spoiler: Ford wins

✧ the three of you build a sandcastle, no, no really. because Stan and Ford argue over everything in the process. Ford wants it to have “structural integrity,” while Stan insists on making it look “badass.” somehow, it ends up being both, a tower with a moat and little seaweed flags that Stan claims are “pirate-approved!!!” you’re the judge, of course

✧ Stan steals your sun hat. just straight-up snatches it off your head and plops it on his, smirking at you. “whaddya think, doll? does it suit me?” and honestly it kinda does, but you’re not gonna tell him that. Ford’s the one who eventually grabs it back, muttering about “immature antics” while carefully placing it back on your head

✧ imagine playing with Ford’s hair as you lay next to him on the beach, getting your fingers tangled in his soft strands, the ocean breeze making it swirl a little. you’re leaning closer to his face next thing he does is pressing soft kisses to your wrist. Ford’s eyes are beautiful, so when he glances up at you, he looks like he’s asking for permission to take that next step. like he can’t wait to kiss you, but he’s waiting for you to make the first move

✧ sharing the towel with Stan and Ford after you’ve all been in the water. sand sticking to your skin, that salty taste all over your lips. Stan just drops his towel on top of yours, pulling you in close so you’re trapped between them. “ain’t no way I’m lettin’ ya get cold, pretty,” Stan’s hands are sliding up your legs, getting close to the waistband of your swimsuit bottoms. Ford’s fingers caress your skin, too, both of them deciding who gets to take you first. god, you could melt between them. it’s totally not because of the sun

✧ they challenge you to a volleyball match, and oh god, it’s a disaster. because Stan’s so competitive, diving for every ball and yelling, “yer gonna hafta do better than that, sixer!” while Ford tries to play by the actual rules. sadly, it ends with Stanley smacking ball right into Ford’s face with “oops”

✧ Ford’s got sunscreen smeared across his nose because he applied it so meticulously he missed the most obvious spot. Stan, being a little shit, doesn’t say a word until you point it out and that makes him die at his brother’s embarrassed reaction. Ford just says, “at least i won’t look like a lobster.”

✧ Stan teaches you how to skip stones. but “teaches” is a strong word because he mostly just shows off, throwing perfect skips and smirking at you every time yours plops straight into the water. “ain’t no shame in bein’ bad at it, sweetheart. not everyone can be as talented as me.” Ford, of course, chimes in with, “it’s all about the angle of release,” and then he decides to demonstrate, making it look annoyingly easy

✧ they both get weirdly protective when some random guy starts chatting you up. guess who’s first to speak and says “don’tcha got somewhere else to be, buddy?” ???

✧ IDK WHY BUT I JUST SEE IT HAPPENING. hear me out. Stan buys you ice cream from a cart on the boardwalk, but the bastard purposely gets himself the messiest one he can find, idk, like a triple scoop with chocolate drizzle and sprinkles AND GUESS WHAT? it’s melting faster than he can eat it, dripping all over his hands and chest. HAH SUCKER (sorry i love him sm) and if you’ll look at him, his chest especially, thinking he won’t notice, believe me he will, “whatcha lookin’ at, doll? ya wanna lick it off me or somethin’?”

✧ Ford’s way more methodical with his treat, carefully choosing something sensible like a popsicle. he tries to eat it while reading, holding his book with one hand and the other balancing the melting stick. but he’s a silly guy who doesn’t know what summer is, so his popsicle drips onto the page and Stan immediately makes fun of him for it

✧ more bout ice cream thing: it becomes like some kind of foreplay. Stan insists on buying you the biggest cone they have, all drippy and sweet, just so he can watch you try to eat it before it melts. “careful, baby,” as he messily licks a stray drop off your wrist. Ford doesn’t stop himself from leaning in to kiss the corner of your mouth, tasting the sweetness. by the time you’re done, the three of you are a mess of sugar and salt and heat

✧ at one point, Stan flops onto your towel, shaking sand everywhere. “hope ya don’t mind sharin’ with yer favorite guy,” he says, throwing an arm around your shoulders. however Ford tries to protest, pointing out that there are plenty of other towels, but his brother just smirks and says, “don’t be jealous, sixer. there’s room for you too.” and that’s how you three end up all squeezed together in a ridiculous pile

✧ Ford collects seashells. of course he does. hes a cutie. he’s walking along the shore, muttering to himself about “the fascinating variety of mollusk species” while carefully placing his finds into a small bag. Stan tries to look cool in front of you so he mocks his twin, calling it “nerd treasure,” or “typical nerds hobbies”, but later you catch him sneaking one of Ford’s shells into his pocket :)

✧ you challenge ford to a sand sculpting contest and he takes it so seriously because he’s sketching out blueprints in the sand, muttering about “load-bearing structures” while you’re just piling up sand with your hands. Stan joins your team, of course, and together you make the stupidest creation ever. Ford’s castle is a masterpiece, all detailed and structured, but when you ask the kids nearby to judge, they pick yours because it “looks funny!”

✧ Stan’s sunglasses break because he sits on them and instead of admitting defeat, he just steals Ford’s

✧ it starts innocent, like most things do. Ford’s helping you tie the strings of your bikini top after a swim. but he’s not as composed and cool as he seems. Stan, being nearby, catches the whole thing. “aw, sixer, don’t be that nervous. want me to show ya how it’s done?”

✧ Stan’s teaching you how to body surf, him standing waist-deep in the water, his chest glistening from salt water and all golden from the sun. “so you just have to let the wave carry ya, toots,” he grins but he doesn’t let you go far, placing his big hands on your hips before squeezing your ass

✧ they’ve set up a beach blanket, which is big enough for all three of you, and somehow you’ve ended up pinned between them. as always. not like you complaining though. Stan’s lying back, laying his arm around your shoulders. but Ford is more intimate, he’s talking about something you can’t even focus on because his hand is on your thigh as he brushes his fingers against the skin just beneath your bikini bottom. and then you both hear: “ya gotta share, sixer. can’t hog her all to yerself.”

✧ they both look at you like they’d devour you right there if they could

✧ Stan likes to tease, but he’s downright filthy when he gets you alone in the water. the sunlight makes your skin glisten beautifully and he can’t keep his hands off you. “ain’t nobody around, cmon,” he whispers in your ear as his fingers sneak beneath your bikini bottoms. “lemme feel ya, darlin’.” the saltwater does nothing to cool the burn as his fingers press in slowly and your body trembles, while his free hand holds you steady against him, his cock hard against your ass

✧ Ford acts all gentlemanly at first, adjusting your sun hat when the wind threatens to blow it off, complimenting how stunning you look with the ocean behind you. but you just have to tease him, so you lean into him and whisper something sweet and a little filthy in his ear. his reaction is immediate when he pulls you into the shade of a lifeguard tower, slipping his hand under your bikini as he kisses you and grinds his hips against you

✧ Stan cant help himself, he likes to watch your lips wrapped around the straw of your drink. it drives him wild. guess why

✧ Ford’s chest a little pink from the sunburn he’ll complain about later, but right now, he’s distracted by the way Stan’s fingers are trailing up your thigh as he applies sunscreen on you. he spreads the slick lotion higher, closer to where your thighs meet. Ford glares, but he doesn’t stop him; instead, he leans down and kisses your shoulder, saying something about needing to check for missed spots

✧ uh. . . imagine sneaking off to one of those little wooden beach huts which are meant for changing clothes, but it barely fits all three of you. but don’t be sad, the cramped space only makes things hotter!

✧ you’re dripping wet from a late afternoon swim and your bikini clings to your skin what makes Stan whistle and Ford fumble with his towel. the sun is setting behind you, turning everything in this golden, honey-like colour and you look like something out of a dream for both twins. “y-you’ll catch a cold,” Ford says as he wraps the towel around your shoulders. “nah, she’s burnin’ up already, don’t u see,” Stan is already behind you as he kisses your neck and the towel falls to the sand

✧ there’s something so funny but intimate about the way they take turns rubbing sunscreen onto your skin, even when you protest you’re fine on your own

#help I just want summer #gravity falls x reader #gravity falls #gravity falls x you #x reader #gravity falls smut #ford pines x reader #ford pines smut #stanford pines #stan pines x reader #stan pines smut #stan pines x you #stanley pines smut #stanley pines x you #stanley pines x reader #ford pines x you #gravity falls fanfic #stanford pines x reader

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skylarsblue · 9 months ago

Text

★RDR2 Incorrect Quotes★

(If you see duplicates from my COD version of these? Shh, no you didn't) ★Border made by @fairytopea★

Ms.Grimshaw What are you doing, you oaf? Young!Arthur, staring at Y/N: They’re pretty. Ms.Grimshaw …and you’re ugly, now get back to work.

- (Pre-joining the gang) Abigail, trying to get paid: What’s your favorite color, John? John: Blue. No, green. Abigail: Awesome! I love learning about you. John: I fucked up, it’s yellow.

- Arthur, cutting a huge knot out of John’s hair: I fucked up, we gotta go bald. *head locks him still* Young!John, flailing violently: WAAAAAHHHH-

Seán: Psst, Lenny, ay mate, wake up! Lenny: Huh- Wh-what? What is it? Seán: I heard something outside the tent. Lenny: What? Seán: Like a woman crying in the distance, but I couldn’t hear her footsteps. Lenny: Okay?? What do you want me to do? Seán: Come look with me! Lenny: Hell no! Seán: Why not? Lenny: I got too much melanin and too much sense for that white people shit. You wanna let demons get you, be my guest, leave me out of it.

- (John HAD to have SOMETHING that captivated her, for humor’s sake? We’ll say he had jokes)

Abigail: You have to find my darling husband, I’m so worried about him. Arthur: Seriously, what do you see in that guy? Abigail: He makes me laugh.

- Micha: I've got the urge to say something. Arthur: And what's that? Micha: The N-Word- Arthur: WHOA-

- Bill: But seriously, is it your whole emo thing that she’s into or what? John: …yeah, long flowing straight hair, very emo.

- Karen: This- Hmm. Tilly: Be nice. Karen: I’m findin’ it. Mary-Beth: …it takes you that long to find- Karen: It does, it does.

- (O’Driscoll troubles) Kieran: Arthur we’re going to get murdered. We’re going to get murdered by a man who can’t tie a fucking bow tie. Arthur: At least he won’t torture us, can’t tie a rope either.

- John: Ugh, you know they’re gonna make us do one of those tacky family happiness photos that comes in the restaurants shitty frame. Tilly: Why are you so fucking negative all the time? John: Wh- uh- I just- Arthur: *slowly sucks tea through straw*

- Seán: Someone just said; “You’re a criminal!” Seán: *handkerchief on, gun in one hand, bag of money in the other* Seán: Well I’ll tell ya what, Sherlock Holmes. You are unbelievable.

- The Gang: Arthur is dying and Micha is a rat! Dutch, dancing with money: *insert that audio that goes “I don’t give a fuck cause I’m a ✨millionaire✨, I do what I want, middle finger in the air!”*

- John, drunk: You think the wind is ever tryna tell us something and we don’t know how to hear it anymore? Charles, loading up a drunk Arthur into a wagon: I just want you to stop saying odd shit.

- Abigail: If we lose, I’m gonna cut the judge. John: Wh- you brought your switchblade?? Abigail: Mhm. John: But they patted us down on the way in, where did you hide i- ohhhhhhh.

- Arthur: …you ever wish you could just, turn into a bird and fly away from everything? Charles: I think we need to get you to a therapist for depression. John: I’d wanna be a wolf. Charles: And we should get you psych evaluation for Autism.

- Sheriff: You seem like a reasonable and good natured person. Arthur: *looks around* And you look like you need glasses.

- Abigail: What would your father say?! Jack: Uhhh “I’ll fix it!” And then make it worse until luck comes around and makes it work, and then act like that was the plan the whole time? Abigail: …that’s my bad, I should’ve used a different phrase to express my disappointment.

- (I dunno why but John being super mean to some people is so fucking funny to me. I don't hate Bill, but bullying him is fun)

Bill: You enjoyin’ the wife everyone else paid to have? John: You mean the woman I never had to pay for? The woman who liked me so much, she didn’t ask for any money to sleep with me? In fact; she liked me so much, she married me? The woman who makes me a warm dinner and kisses me everyday? Mother of my child? John: I am enjoyin’ yeah. What about you, Bill? Bill: John: You enjoyin’ your lonely life, you unlovable sorry sack of shit? You enjoyin’ having to pay for someone to pretend they like you? Cause they never actually do. They hate you actually, like me. I hate you. Eat shit and die, Bill.

- Arthur: …him? Really? Mary-Beth Don’t be mean! Arthur: He looks like a rescue dog, Mary-Beth. Mary-Beth: I know, I like that! Arthur: ….you like that?? Mary-Beth: His pathetic wet eyes and general wimpy stature have captivated me. Arthur: *sigh* Whatever makes you happy.

- Bill: At the end of the day, Arthur. I am a MAN. Arthur: A MAN WHO’S GAY. You like fellers GETTHATTHROUGHYOURHEAD!

- Dutch: I have a plan. Hosea: You haven’t planned shit. Dutch: I’ve planned it.

- Hosea: Arthur! What on earth are you doing?! Young!Arthur: Getting rid of this demon. Young!John: *screeching and trying to get out of Arthur’s grip* Hosea: And why do you plan to get rid of him? Arthur: Because, Hosea! He woke me up by leaning over me and whispering, “I know what death feels like, it’s cold. Have you felt death?” Arthur: HE’S CLEARLY EVIL, HOSEA Hosea: That’s just how children are, Arthur. Dutch: He’s right son, put the boy down. Dutch, leaning and whispering to Hosea: But maybe we should buy a Bible just in case. Hosea: And a cross.

- (Modern au and suicide joke)

John: It’s not a phase! It’s a lifestyle, you just wouldn’t get it! Arthur: You think I didn’t go through the “I can’t tell if I want to kill myself or everyone around me” phase? Come on. John: What? I don’t wanna kill myself at all. Arthur: … John: … John: Should I- should we go talk to Hose- Arthur: We should forget this conversation happened. Take this Nirvana CD and keep your mouth shut.

- Abigail: …John. John: Yes, my angel? Abigail: You forgot something. John: No I didn’t! I took the list with me, checked it three times, even crossed things off when I put it in the cart! See, look. Apples, frozen hamhocks, cranberry juice- Abigail: John. You took Jack with you. John: Abigail: John: Abigail: John: SHIT I LEFT HIM BY THE PASTA SECTION Abigail: STOP STANDING THERE AND GO GET HIM!

- Jack: Pa, how did you get mom to marry you? John: Well son, I- John: John: I have no idea. Jack: Should I ask mom? John: I’ll be honest, I don’t think she knows the answer either.

- Charles: You did good back there. Arthur: Oh? Heh, nah, you did all the fancy stuff. I just helped. Charles: Don’t undersell yourself, Arthur. I wouldn’t be complimenting you for no reason. Arthur: Oh yeah? And here I thought you were just trying to fluff up my ego. Charles: Wouldn’t hurt to do when you work so hard, no? Arthur: Now you’re just being’ sweet- John: Can y’all wait til we’re done before you start your spiritual dick sucking? Arthur: Can you repent to the lord fast enough to save your soul in the time it’ll take me to throw you into the damn ocean, Marston?!

- Arthur: Do you even have a brain? John: Do you even have someone that loves you? Arthur: John: John: I heard it that time, I’m sorry. Arthur: This is what Abigail hears sometimes, just so you know. John: I heard it that time, I got it. I- I’ll just- Arthur: Whiskey, full bottle. The nice kind. John: Apology alcohol, got it.

NPC: My husband’s parents are so crazy. In-laws always are, huh? Abigail: Well, uh-

*John being an orphan* *John’s adoptive dads being criminals, one particularly off his rocker*

Abigail: ….aha, yeah;;

- Abigail: John Marston, you useless, foolish, stupid man! Bill: To hell with John! Abigail, suddenly with a very large gun: NO ONE INSULTS MY HUSBAND.

- Arthur, holding up a proper painting he actually put time and effort into: Could a depressed person make this? Charles: The painting: *a wolf in the rain laying it’s head over the body of a deer shot with an arrow* Charles: I’m, in fact, more convinced you have depression now. Arthur: …yeah this wasn’t the best evidence for my argument, huh? Charles: No. Not at all.

- John: What are you talking about? That’s completely normal, it’s like having opinions. just cause it doesn’t happen to you doesn’t mean- Tilly: No, John! No. It’s not normal to have that reaction to the sound of hearing metal on metal. John: No look, uh- Arthur! Arthur come here! Arthur: What now? John: What happens when you hear metal on metal? Like, a can bein’ rubbed with a knife. Arthur: Ugh, I hate that sound. It makes my damn skin crawl, like I got beetles underneath. Makes me wanna skin myself to get’em out. John: Right! See, Tilly? It’s not just me! Tilly: ????

Charles: …and you never got them evaluated? Hosea: In hindsight, an autistic diagnosis probably would’ve made more things make sense. But, what can ya do.

- Arthur after a dog didn’t positively react to him: Maybe this is my final straw. Charles: No. Arthur: It might be. Charles: It’s one dog. There are twenty that you stopped to pet along the way here, plenty more for you to pet after this. Arthur: You don’t understand, this is devastatin’. Charles: Arthur, please- Arthur: Utterly devastatin’, Charles.

- Arthur, tipsy: Just cause you’re gorgeous don’t mean I’ma do whatever you say. Charles: Drink the water, Arthur. Arthur: *grabs the glass* Yes, sir.

- (Got a Y/N one, also, modern Au)

Arthur: That’s the Aberdeen farm. Y/N: …what’s wrong with it? Arthur: What’cha mean? Y/N: The vibes, they’re off. Arthur: …the…vibes? Y/N: The energy, Mister Morgan. The vibe of the place. They’re off, they’re weird, wack even. I sense insidious and wretched wavelengths wafting from the aura of that property. Arthur: I see…well, to answer your question, it’s cause they are weird. And I ain’t even confirmed why cause I don’t really wanna know. Y/N: I see you can also sense the vibes are rank. Arthur: …sure, whatever that means.

- Micha: Well I think- Y/N: Well I’m certain no one fucking asked, Micha! Not a single damn person asked what the hell you thought, ever! In fact, I’m pretty sure you don’t think. I’m pretty sure your skull fills with all the bullshit in your organs, and it just spills out your mouth! Micha: Micha: I- Y/N: Shut up, Micha!

- Arthur, after Albert explains some super dangerous plan in order to get wild animals near him to photograph: You’re stupid, I like that in a man.

- Y/N: Bye Arthur, bye Karen, bye Hosea, bye Arthur. Sadie: You said ‘bye Arthur’ twice. Y/N: I like Arthur.

- NPC: Lovebirds, eh? Sadie: Arthur: Sadie: I’d rather eat a poison ivy plant with Holly Berries for dressing. *looks at Arthur* No offense. Arthur: No no, none taken. All things considered, I’d rather dive into a pit of tar and then drag myself face first through a plain of rotten chitlins. Sadie: Completely fair!

- Bill: I need you to realize you ain’t in charge here. Y/N: I need you to realize I don’t give a shit.

- Arthur: Hey Charles, uh, I got an Uhm…a spiritual question. Charles: Any particular reason you chose to ask me? Arthur: Uh well- I didn’t mean for it to be like that- I just- Charles: *sigh* What is it? Arthur: Do you know what it means when an elk stands up on its back legs? Charles: That means- Charles: WE SHOULD LEAVE, we need to leave, that’s what that means!

- Jack: …why are your boobs so big? Charles: They’re not boobs. Jack: Do you have to wear a brasier? Charles: *sigh* Arthur: He asked me the same thing a couple weeks ago, don’t think to hard bout it.

(Story spoilers!!) Y/N: I'm sorry, let me get this straight. Y/N: You picked up that man when he was a destitute child, grieving and starving. Taught him almost everything he knows. Y/N: Then, you did that with, what? Three others? In similar circumstances? Y/N: Created a sense of family and community, a strong bond between so many misfortuned people. With your trustworthy long term friend by your side. Y/N: And then. Y/N: One RAT. WHO IS OPENLY ANTAGONISTIC AND REEKS OF SUSPICION AS MUCH AS HE DOES HORSE SHIT, SOMEHOW CONVINCES YOU TO GO OFF YOUR ROCKER AND HARM YOUR GANG?! Y/N: Explain! Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: He praised me- Y/N: YOUR PRAISE KINK GOT YOU TO AIM A GUN AT YOUR SONS????

- Arthur: Naaah they’re an angel. Lenny: They punched Bill in the face. Seán: They told Strauss he was a waste of human material, in his own language, which they’re not fluent in. Mary-Beth: They framed Micha for a crime and got him put in prison again. Arthur: Like I said, an angel!

- John: Woman. (Translation: Darling.) Abigail: Moron. (Translation: Lovebug.)

Arthur: You tellin’ me they’re being affectionate right now? Jack: Can’t’cha read subtext, Uncle Arthur? Arthur: ???

(Insert Alcohol is truth serum reference)

Drunk Bill: Not to be gay, but you’re gorgeous bro. Kieran, afraid: You don’t have to be gay to appreciate a man’s beauty. Absolutely shit-faced Bill: Nah, like I’d fuck you, bro. Kieran, terrified: Okay, never mind!

- (How I imagine their first couple years together went)

Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: Dutch: How do you feel about me? Hosea, naked & beside him: ….we’re sharin’ a bedroll, Dutch. Dutch: Yes, but what are we, Hosea? Hosea: ….we’re both naked, alone, in a tent, Dutch. Dutch: That doesn’t answer my question. Hosea:

- (This one's sad, not funny, sorry-) John: You’re such a hypocrite, why is it that anything I do that you’ve done before that you get so bent outta shape?! Arthur: Because I’ve done it before you, John. John: So why do you think it’s fair to tell me not to?! Most people are proud when their younger brother ends up like’em. You don’t want anyone like you, is that it? Arthur: John: John: …oh. Arthur: Now that you got my point, will you take my god damn advice without a big fuss…please.

- John: She drives me insane! She somehow managed to make me the angriest I’ve ever been almost daily. NPC: Then leave her. John: The fu- no. What? She’s the wind beneath my wings, my darling wife, my beautiful angel. How the hell could you even think to suggest such a thing? NPC: But- John: Get outta my sight, you fuckin’ disgrace.

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gamerwoo · 1 year ago

Text

dumb/random things skz would do while ur dating

a/n: don’t ask me what this is or why i came up w it these are just Thoughts That I Have Sometimes

chan: if he has spare time and gets bored, he’ll splice up voicemails or voice messages you’ve sent him to make you say random shit and then he sends it to you out of nowhere with absolutely zero context. it could be anywhere from the raunchiest, dirtiest things you’ve ever heard, to just straight up dumb things, to him making you say how amazing and great he is and how much you love him. either way, he thinks he’s hilarious

minho: literally just stares at you for no reason. you’re on your phone across the room and he’s staring. just deadpan staring. and once you notice and make eye contact he gives you a mean look like you were staring at him first and he’s mad about it. even after you look away, he’s still staring. if you ask what he wants he’ll be like “why tf are you staring at me?? get a hobby, freak”

changbin: actually expects you to open doors for him and pull out his chair and lay your jacket out over a puddle. if you don’t, he just stares at you and eyes the thing he wanted you to do for him. obviously you’d never put your jacket over a puddle when he could literally walk around it but he’ll scoff and dramatically roll his eyes and make some comment about “guess romance really is dead” or something dumb

hyunjin: maybe he used to actually sketch you really nicely at one point but now he’s comfortable with you and now the only times he draws you is a really rough and quick sketch that’s so poorly done and it’s always you making ugly faces and he just slides it over to you and goes “this is you rn" and it’s you looking very pissed off and with a unibrow and you’re shrimp-backing so hard

jisung: keeps making those powerpoint presentations for you about different topics but he only makes them between like 11pm-3am so the farther into it he gets, the weirder it gets and the less sense it makes. usually the topics don’t really make sense either, though. like the time he showed you ‘101 reasons why you should still love me as a worm :)’. but there was the time he presented you with ‘69 reasons why i love you’ and even though 25% of them were weird things like ‘your breath smells normal’ and ‘you haven’t committed a felony so i don’t have to have a long distance relationship with someone in prison’ you still thought it was pretty sweet

felix: if you think he won’t act like those cringey gamer couples, you’re so fucking wrong. whether he’s doing it ironically or seriously, he’s going to drag you into his shenanigans. your names on different games have to match. they’ve been shit like ‘their dps / his pocket’ and 'grilled cheese / tomato soup’ to unhinged things like ‘mike huchie / mike hunt’ and ‘blowing smoke / smoke’. he always thinks it’s so fucking funny but you want to die. your discord names are ‘their daddy / his kitten’ and whenever you change it, he changes it back

seungmin: he does literally anything and pretends it wasn’t him. plays with your hair while you’re cooking dinner, but when you turn to look at him, he looks around and starts whistling. he’ll knock your closed water bottle straight out of your hand for no reason and then shrug at you like it was the fucking wind. even when he kisses your cheek he’ll gasp and be like “who did that?”

jeongin: he’ll act cute or whatever when he wants something but god forbid you do it back. the amount of judging he’ll do will make you want to leave the house. “please don’t ever do that again, you’re embarrassing me” as if you didn’t just copy everything he’s ever done to you. he’s gone so far as to pretend he doesn’t know you out in public over this. only he can be cute to get his way. if you do it, it’s cringe

#k-labels #stray kids #skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #bang chan #lee know #minho #changbin #hyunjin #han #han jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin #i.n

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amazinglyegg · 1 year ago

Note

a bit of an angsty ask-- could you do companions react to sole having a panic attack?

Of course! Angsty prompts are my favorite <3

Companions react: Sole having a panic attack

Includes: Cait, Curie, Codsworth, Danse, Deacon, Gage, Hancock, Maccready, Maxson, Nick, Piper, Preston, and X6

Cait:

As long as she’s known Sole for more than a few days she’ll be pretty decent at comfort

She gets it. Panic attacks suck. All she can do is try to make it less-sucky.

Won’t get all sappy or dramatic but will just sit with Sole somewhere and remind them that they’re alright

She also won’t let it overstay it’s welcome either, if that makes sense.

Once the panic attack is over and Sole’s willing to continue Cait will just get up and go along with her day, not bringing extra attention to what happened or trying to talk about it or anything

Curie:

Catch her re-reading (or even writing) notes while Sole’s panicking

Obviously Sole’s comfort is top priority but Curie doesn’t remember everything she’s supposed to do! She’s gotta read up on it!

“Think about something nice… like a field of flowers, or a puppy!”

She's very empathetic so she might end up crying a bit alongside Sole, and will probably tell Sole to just ignore her and focus on themself

Great at talking through emotions with! She'll never judge Sole for what they're feeling, even if it's "irrational" or "dramatic". Emotions are confusing, she gets it!

Codsworth:

Codsworth will do whatever he can to make up for his lack of ability to give physical comfort

Blankets, drinks, distractions via books or games, more blankets…

A lot of verbal comfort as well, but he might gear towards gentle jokes or stories rather than traditional comfort

He will mother-hen Sole for a while, even after the panic attack is over. Acts of service is his love language and he really wants Sole to know how much he loves them!

Might stress-clean afterwards, he’s just really worried about Sole and has a bit of abandonment issues he's gotta work through

Danse:

Surprisingly he’s not terrible at helping!

Gets Sole away from the situation, gives them some water, asks simple yes/no questions, etc. etc.

You can kind of tell he has a mental checklist going on and once he exhausts it he just kinda sits there and waits for the panic attack to end

Other than that he has no real clue what to say, so don't expect much more than a "there, there" and an awkward shoulder pat

He's definitely open for Sole if they need to vent or whatever but he's terrible at letting them know that, so Sole will probably have to be the one to initiate any further conversations about it

Catch him reading some medical book written in the 1900's for advice and going up to Sole like "Have you tried cocaine?"

Deacon:

Uhh. Panic.

Deacon is NOT good with these things! Lots of awkward laughter and (gentle) jokes and tense body language that kinda makes Sole a little more stressed

He’ll get better with time (and practice) though, although he may still need Sole to tell him what they need from him from time to time

He IS good at reading body language and such, so it won't take long for him to pick up details like whether they want to be touched or not

Definitely mentally noting down what triggers Sole’s anxiety so he can help them avoid it in the future

Gage:

Will straight up admit he has no clue what to do.

Doesn’t want to make things worse and doesn’t want to accidentally piss off Sole so he’ll probably just give them space and leave a beer next to them

The best Sole will get out of him is a pat on the back

Does defend Sole from any onlookers and will gently guide them somewhere more private if there are people around when they have the panic attack

To him, he'd be mortified if anyone saw him panicking like that! Catch him telling Sole embarrassing stories about himself so they feel better about being that vulnerable around him (even if they don't mind at all)

Hancock:

I think he’ll be good at recognizing the signs of a panic attack and comforting Sole even if they aren’t super close yet

He’s just the type of guy to get along with strangers, and that goes with comforting them too

He’ll rub Sole’s back and talk them through it quietly without drawing too much attention to it

He’s willing to just continue the conversation or act like nothing’s happening if it’ll help Sole - sometimes ignoring it will make it go away faster!

Generally just lets Sole take the lead and picks up on what they want/need from him

Nick Valentine

Okay we all know he'd be AMAZING at this

He'd notice Sole's anxiety, potentially before they even have the panic attack, and will lead them away somewhere calmer to de-stress

He's great at reassuring them of whatever they need to hear ("It's going to be okay, you're safe, I'm here...) and he'll stay calm and composed in the process

Honestly wouldn't be surprised if he kept like, a stuffed animal or something in his giant coat of his for this reason

Might be hesitant on physical touch, or even eye contact - he's self conscious and afraid he'll freak them out with his eyes or metal hand

WILL let them wear his coat like a blanket though... if they can excuse the smell of cigarettes

Maccready:

He doesn’t know what to do but he can’t just leave them, so he’ll try anything really

Talking them through breathing exercises, keeping them away from crowds/busy areas, patting their shoulder awkwardly, hell he’ll even give them a hug if they ask

Tries to just be there for them, even if he doesn’t really know what to say or do

Might just resort to “keeping watch” by sitting a few feet away from them with a gun, both so they can have their space and so they know they’re safe and he’s still within earshot.

Maxson:

Definitely a “just calm down” / “just breathe” type of guy

Either that or he’ll straight up panic and send Sole to the med bay thinking they're having a heart attack

He’s never really had anyone to role model good responses to these kinds of situations before! He’s trying his hardest but he has no clue what to do

He WANTS to know what to say though, so if Sole explains it to him after the fact he’ll pay attention and use their advice for any future panic attacks

Canonically he views mental health as just as important as physical health, so he will definitely take Sole seriously and do whatever it takes to keep them happy and healthy

Piper:

“Haha what’s wrong Sole?? 😀 … oh shit what’s wrong 😥” type of reaction

Basically it might take her a bit to realize Sole’s having a panic attack, but she’ll do what she can to help once she notices it

Takes “rest and digest” literally - will give Sole food and tuck them into bed if she can

Might try to throw every coping strategy she knows at Sole all at once in hopes one of them will work well

Uhh BREATHING and FOOD and and PET DOGMEAT do you want to go on a walk?? How about some hot chocolate???

Might be a good idea for Sole to make a checklist for her to go down one by one...

Preston:

Great at speaking gently and keeping Sole from panicking more

Slow movements, low voice, maybe holding their hand or rubbing their back comfortingly

He doesn’t always know exactly what to say so he’ll focus on self-soothing for himself to help Sole calm down as well

Things like taking deep breaths so Sole can follow along or going on a walk with them

He's also very respectful of their space and privacy, and will immediately give them space if they ask for it (even though he's almost worried sick about them)

Will reassure them that he doesn't think any differently of them or their ability to lead the Minutemen!

X6:

I think X6 would actually be pretty good at comforting Sole, all things considered

The last thing you need while having a panic attack is other people panicking as well, right?

And X6 will definitely stay calm, that’s for certain.

He might also end up overloading Sole with facts about panic attacks though

Sole will be like “I think I’m having a heart attack” and X6 will respond by giving a list of every single symptom of both to compare and contrast as proof it's a panic attack

You can definitely catch him silently panicking the first time Sole has a panic attack though

He’s not good with emotions man he’s trying his hardest

#fallout 4 #companions react #cw panic attack #cait #curie #codsworth #paladin danse #deacon #porter gage #john hancock #nick valentine #maccready #elder maxson #piper wright #preston garvey #x6 88

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pilot-boi · 10 months ago

Note

Jaune’s friends throw him a birthday party only to find out he has long forgotten his own birthday in the Ever After, never mind how old he technically is.

Jaune’s friends have been acting weird all week.

Of course, he’s not a very good judge of what counts as weird anymore. Living for decades in a world where the brooks would literally babble and time was literally money would do that to you.

But he feels pretty sure that they’re being weird.

They keep huddling in groups whispering to each other, only to see him coming and abruptly change the subject, or just straight up walk away. He might be out of practice reading social cues (and he was pretty abysmal to begin with, let’s be honest here) but even he can notice that.

Are they mad at him? He’s been trying his best to hold himself together since getting back. He’s been talking to Ren and Nora and Ruby when he’s spiring. Oscar has been a HUGE help adjusting to feeling out of place in his own skin. Heck, this morning he didn’t even wake up freaking out about being late! All things considered he thinks he’s been doing pretty okay.

So why are they all avoiding him?

“Do you have…”

“No, Ren’s taking care…”

“Oh good, then you can-”

Ruby and Weiss are lurking outside of an unused classroom, whispering intently to each other over an open notebook. Jaune perks up. “Hey guys! What’re you-”

They both look up at him, immediately cutting off their conversation. Weiss shuts her notebook with a snap. Jaune’s greeting trails off and his smile slips from his face as they stare at him.

“What uh… what are you guys up to?” Jaune asks.

Ruby and Weiss glance at each other. “Nothing you need to worry about,” Weiss responds eventually, Ruby shifting awkwardly behind her

“Are you sure? I could… maybe I could help!” he offers, hating how over-eager he must sound.

“I’m sure,” Weiss replies firmly, and Jaune wilts further. “Besides, we were just going, right Ruby?”

“We were? I mean, yeah! Yeah we were,” Ruby nods, already edging away. Can she really not even stand to be around him? “See ya later, I guess!” And the two of them hurry off down the hallway, already whispering to each other.

Jaune slumps. He thought he was doing better, but if Weiss and Ruby beat that hasty of a retreat at his mere presence? And not even the first one this week? Yeah, they’re definitely mad at him. He just wishes he knows what he did.

He shuffles his way back to the JNPER dorm. The whole time, he’s replaying the conversation in his head, nitpicking every over-exuberance, every awkward moment. He knows he’s out of practice, but he’s trying, really he is. Maybe they’re just finally getting tired of his lackluster performance? Tired of playing nice in the face of his bumbling?

The door is ajar when he returns, and he can hear Oscar and Nora’s voices inside.

“...just hard seeing him this way.”

“I know, it hurts me, too.”

He hesitates, hand hovering over the doorknob. He can’t help it. And yeah, eavesdropping is bad. But they’re talking about him, and if they don’t know he’s there, they will continue to do so. Of course, he might not like what he hears, but at least he’ll have answers. And since when does he do what’s good for him?

“...having trouble adjusting.”

“Yeah. But hopefully this will help!”

“I hope so. It’s been a while, but if we all work together we can make sure he stays away while we-”

Yeah. He’s heard enough.

Jaune shuts the door with a quiet click. Well, he was wrong at least. His friends aren’t mad at him.

No. No, they hate him.

He lets his steps carry him away. He doesn’t much care where he ends up, he knows his friends won’t be there.

If they want him to stay away, he can do that. It was selfish of him (stupid of him) to want to immediately insert himself back into the team dynamic. They spent months grieving him while he was living in fairytale land, and then he shows back up and what? Just slots back in like nothing happened? Like they didn’t just spend the last few months of their lives thinking he was dead?

“Having trouble adjusting” Nora had said, and she’s right of course. It’s no secret that he’s been taking to Remnant like a fish to the desert.

But he’s been trying, gods he’s been trying!

Jaune knows he’s awkward and too loud and too big. Too used to stiffness in his limbs that would slow his movements, too used to a creak and a crack in his voice that would lower his tone. Too used to being alone to fit, like he’s a puzzle piece from a different set thrown in a box it doesn’t belong.

He knows he’s not okay, he’s not right. He knows that as well as he knows his name. (His name or his title? Which one is he anymore?) But to hear it spoken so plainly from a friend’s mouth…

Jaune doesn’t realize he’s crying until his vision blurs with tears.

Weiss and Ruby whispering to themselves about Ren (his teammate, his brother, he doesn’t even know what his brother is doing), saying they don’t need him, and leaving abruptly when he approaches. Nora and Oscar talking quietly about how badly he’s adjusting and how they need him to stay away.

He just wanted to be less alone, but he’s just pushing everyone away again. Too loud, too big, too much. Just like Alyx.

“Hey Arc, what’s with the moping?” Jaune jumps, whirls around, and blinks back into awareness. He’s in a courtyard dappled with the warm tones of sunset (Wasn’t it midday? How much time did he lose?), one of the few places in the city with plantlife. And there, glaring at him from under a palm tree, is Emerald.

He stares at her. She stares back. He can’t tell if she’s giving him time to calm down (stupid crying, stupid trauma, why won’t his lungs just work right) or if she just refuses to ask the question again.

Eventually his breathing steadies as much as it’s going to, and his panic begins to ebb. She’s still just staring at him.

His brain catches up. Right, she asked him a question.

“I’m not-” He swallows. No more bottling things up. He tried that already, and look where it got him. A bowl full of poison and a lake full of tattered paper. “I think everyone is mad at me. I think… I think they’re all just psyching themselves up to tell me that they’re… that they hate me.” Jaune admits, voice getting more quiet as he goes. And wow, he really must be hard up for people to talk to if he’s telling Emerald this.

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “What? No. No they’re not.”

Jaune blinks, taken aback by her immediate response. “They’re not? But… but they’ve been avoiding me all week! Saying they don’t need me and that they want me to stay away! I just heard Nora, and she said-”

“They don’t hate you, trust me,” Emerald assures, cutting off his increasingly panicked rambling. And somehow, she sounds so sure of herself that he can’t help but trust her. “I don’t think they can hate you. Believe me, I’ve tried, and you’re annoyingly likeable. It sucks.”

“But if they don’t hate me then…” The words won’t come. Why are they avoiding him? Why are they working on something while deliberately not including him? Why do they want him to stay away?

The bewilderment must be plain on his face because Emerald sighs and stands. She mutters something under her breath that sounds like “those idiots can’t even…” but he doesn’t catch the rest.

“Gods damn puppy eyes. They’re just planning a… wait. Actually-” Emerald pulls out her Scroll. Jaune can’t see who she dials, but whoever it is picks up immediately. “Hey it’s me. Yeah. Yeah I know you’re busy but- Yeah I know you’re almost out of time-”

At this, Emerald glances at the sky for some reason and Jaune automatically follows her gaze. The sun is dipping behind the roof of the building, sending cool shadows across the courtyard. Jaune winces, reminded of the time he lost. How long was he wandering around the halls of Shade before he stumbled across Emerald?

“Yeah I know, I KNOW! Listen, Arc’s-” She gets cut off again, clearly growing more and more irritated. It’s probably Yang then, or Ruby. “Will you just shut up and listen?! Arc’s here! He’s here with me, so you can tell the rest of the idiot squad to stop worrying! He’s right here!” Jaune perks up. They were worried about him? But…

“He wandered past me after overhearing one of you… No he still doesn’t know, somehow, but he showed up freaking out and VERY disassociating and I had to calm him down! So if you don’t want a full meltdown on your hands, one of you get over here and get this show on the road, because I swear I am not equipped to deal with Jaune crying.”

Jaune. She called him Jaune.

And earlier she said she doesn’t hate him.

And if she doesn’t hate him then… then maybe she wasn’t lying about the rest of his friends not hating him. It feels like there’s a happy balloon swelling in his chest, and gods dammit he’s starting to cry again.

Stupid high strung emotions, stupid post-meltdown crying, stupid heart caring so stupid much.

Emerald catches his eye and she winces. “Ah shit um… No everything’s fine, Arc’s just crying again. No I think it’s good tears this time, he’s got this big dopey smile on his face. Yeah. Yeah that’s the one. Can one of you get over here now? We’re in the garden off of our room. No the other one. See ya.”

She sighs and tucks her Scroll back in her pocket. “Ruby should be here any second.” Jaune beams at her. She squints at him. “What.”

He shrugs. “You’re a good friend.”

Emerald scoffs, folding her arms and looking away. “Yeah, whatever.”

There’s a burst of rose petals and Ruby materializes next to them. She’s speaking before her feet touch the ground! “-so sorry! Jaune! Oh gods we’ve been looking for you everywhere! Come on, the others are waiting-”

“You have? They are?? Wait what are-” Before he knows what’s happening, Ruby has wrapped herself, himself, and a reluctant Emerald up in her cape. “-you talking about?” Jaune says as soon as they land. And then the nausea hits.

“Oh crap, I forgot! Sorry…” Ruby apologizes, patting his back as he doubles over, breathing shallowly and leaning heavily on hands resting on shaky knees. “You okay?”

“Better than ever,” Jaune replies, chuckling weakly. “Just warn me next time. Please. Airships are bad enough but that was…”

“Horrible??!” Emerald interrupts, looking thoroughly ruffled.

“Intense,” he concludes, straightening with a shudder. They’re standing outside of an unused classroom, the same one as before. But then… why did Weiss and Ruby leave?

“Well? Go inside!” Ruby prods, bouncing next to the door.

Again, weird. But again, he’s no longer a great judge of what’s weird. So Jaune just opens the door and-

-and is immediately hit with a wall of sound comparable to a bomb going off.

They’re all lucky his sword is back in the dorm, or they’d all be nursing a few gashes. As it is, it takes an embarrassingly long amount of time for Jaune to realize he’s not under attack, and that all the yelling is just…

Birthday wishes? Is this a surprise party?

“Is this… for me?” Jaune asks, once his voice finds its way back to his throat.

“Of course it is, we’ve been planning this all week!” Yang hollers, from where she’s standing next to Blake and a pile of haphazardly wrapped presents.

“We wanted it to be a surprise,” Blake shrugs, looking sheepish. “Guess we took the secrecy a bit too far.”

“We didn’t mean to make you worry!” Nora apologizes, from beside the biggest cake Jaune’s ever seen. “I think you might’ve overheard me and Oscar talking earlier and-”

Everything slots into place. The whispering, the planning, wanting to keep him away, not including him in the process, Ren’s key involvement (That cake could only have been made by him), wanting to help him adjust. It was all just them doing… this.

There’s a pile of presents, each wrapped individually and labeled with Yang’s scrawl and Blake’s tidy printing. A banner hangs overhead with “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!” written on it in block letters, and the last few letters of birthday are all smushed at the end. The cake is iced yellow with the double crescents of the Arc crest emblazoned at the top.

And his friends. His friends. All working together for a week to do this, for him, and he can feel his heart tight in his chest, and gods dammit here come the water works. How could ever think they hate him while they were doing this for him??

His friends are alls taring at him anxiously, and he realizes they think he doesn’t like it.

“I love you guys,” he sobs, and holds his arms out for a hug.

They all surge forward and sink to the floor. Oscar tucks himself under one arm, Ruby under the other. Weiss, Blake, and Ren curl around his sides. And on top of it all he can feel Yang and Nora’s exuberance.

They don’t hate him. They don’t hate him. Gods, how could he ever think they hate him?

In the middle of the hug huddle (Hud? Huggle?) Jaune frowns. “Wait… is it my birthday?” he asks nobody in particular.

He can feel someone adjust against his chest. “Course it is,” he feels Oscar’s voice hum through him. The pod loosens so his baby brother can look up at him, and Jaune ducks to avoid his discerning gaze.

“I…” Jaune swallows, and finds that he’s looking right at Ruby. She looks gentle, understanding, and when he glances around he sees the same warmth on all of his friends’ faces. He swallows. No more bottling things up. “I forgot,” he admits.

“You forgot it’s today?” Emerald asks, and of course, she’s sitting cross-legged just outside of the slowly detaching hug pile.

“I forgot it entirely,” he says quietly, and he feels Oscar tuck into his side, and Jaune wraps an arm around him without even looking. “There wasn’t any reliable way to count days after so long, and even if there was… the days just weren’t consistent.” Time flowing away like sand in a shattered hourglass. Days that last minutes, nights that last days, days that last months, nights that last seconds. He shrugs. “So I just… forgot. I forgot a lot of things.”

“You didn’t forget us,” Nora reminds him, thudding her head down on his shoulder.

“I couldn’t let myself,” he says. “You guys…” Jaune takes the time to look them all in the eye. “Knowing I’d eventually get back to you all is all that kept me going.”

“Well, if you forget again, if you fall again… we’ll catch you,” Ruby says simply. “Me, Ren, Nora, all of us. And if that’s not enough, and you forget, and you lose yourself…” She swallows, and Jaune’s suddenly quite certain that he’s not the only one on the verge of tears. “Then we’ll just find you and show you who you are.”

“A million bajillion times,” Nora agrees, muffled against his chest.

“As many times as it takes,” Ren nods, and the others all murmur their assent. And Jaune’s heart swells with love for these people who have walked through hell, and who he would walk through hell for, and who would walk through hell for him.

The presents could be bricks and the cake could be sawdust and he wouldn’t care. This, these friends holding him in their arms… this is the only thing he could have ever wanted for a birthday he forgot but they remembered.

Love.

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #nora valkyrie #oscar pine #emerald sustrai #weiss schnee #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #mine #asks #my writing #anonymous #healing rust au

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urperfectcinnamonroll07 · 10 months ago

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Falling In Love With You

requested?: no pairing(s): hwang hyunjin x afab!reader genre: smut, fluff, angst (kinda, not much) warning(s): mentions of insicurities (not specified), angst if you squint, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 you tap it ladies nd gents), mentions of crying, hyune being whipped for reader, praise, breast play, hyune being a boob guy, soft sex, not proof read, lmk if i missed anything:) summary: the reader is feeling insecure, so hyune tells the reader in his own little way that they're perfect word count: 1.5k a/n: was thinking of writing one of these, so here you all go. reader's body type is never specified, so, go wild. remember to eat and drink some water, love yas mwah

lately, you were feeling quite insecure. you had an idol boyfriend, and you just thought he could do better. you saw all of these pretty girls fawning and flirting with him, but he chose you? he could do so much better.

hyunjin had just come back from his choreo practice with the rest of stray kids, you didn’t hear the door open as you were too busy scrolling through your phone in bed, reading all of the comments on hyunjin’s latest insta post. it was a pic of the both if you, chan had taken it. he had his arms around you with his chin resting on your shoulder. you had your head facing him over your shoulder, smiling widely.

the comments started out sweet, at first. you had all of your friends and long-term fans supporting you and him, saying you were cute together. but then all of the comments just turned sour, like you had just bitten into a lemon.

you scrolled through them, letting tears flow down the sides of your face, you couldn’t help them. it was only when hyune opened the door to your bedroom and saw you curled up on your side, that you realized he was home. you tried to wipe away the tears as fast as you could, but hyune was faster.

he took your hands in his and kneeled at the side of the bed, looking for the source of why you were crying.

“honey, what’s wrong? have you started your- oh wait, you don’t start for another week. honey, what’s wrong? I won’t judge, I swear” he spoke frantically and fast, his words tumbling out of his mouth. you shook your head in response, signaling nothing was wrong, he knew you were lying, he always did.

“don’t bullshit me love, I know when you’re lying” he spoke, pressing a small kiss to your forehead.

you glanced at the phone in your hand, it was still open on twitter, the comments on the screen. hyune followed your gaze and frowned. you were quick to try and hide it, but he was quicker in snatching your phone and reading the comments. he scrolled for a little bit before looking at you with a serious look.

“jagiya” he spoke softly, lifting your chin to look at him, “i told you not to look at those comments” his tone was soft, much unlike his face. his brown eyes were piercing straight through you.

“i know, i’m sorry” you whispered. he clicked his tongue and brought you in for a hug, wrapping your arms around him.

you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of being with him, until you felt feather light kisses on your neck.

“y’know, you really shouldn’t listen to all them, they don’t know what they are saying, you’re absolutely gorgeous jagi”

you whimper lightly as you feel him begin to nip at your neck and leave small bites. he smirked against your neck, knowing it was getting you worked up. he knew everything about you, how to get you to sleep to how to get you so turned on with the slightest touch. he knew damn well it was working, and you were already horny, he just liked taking the piss and teasing you, making you melt like putty in his hands.

“hyune” you whimpered out, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you. he quickly got up and on top of you, pinning you down onto the bed and pinning your hands next to the sides of your head, making sure he kisses every inch of your neck before moving down.

he makes quick work of getting his shirt off, and then yours (his). he fiddles with the clasp of your bra before you try to intervene, but he just pins your arms back to where they were at the side of your head.

“i can do it” he says with a small pout on his lips, you giggle softly and he melts at the sound, smiling softly.

he’s quick to get back into it though, managing to unclasp your bra and throwing it god knows where in the room. he slowly kissed down your collarbone, leaving small nips and love bites on his way down to your tits. he took one of your hardened peaks in your mouth, sucking on it. you arched your back up into him, trying to give him more access. you moaned loudly as you felt his other hand roll your nipple through his index finger and thumb, giving your other breast attention while he licked and sucked on your other.

he looked up at your face, taking in all of your facial expressions and memorizing them for later on while he was on tour to jerk off to. he would have to think about that later, there was a much bigger task at hand which he needed to solve: getting your panties off and fucking you slowly, just how you liked it.

“so fucking gorgeous, jagi, every inch of you. your hips” he squeezed your hips, “your stomach” he left a kiss on your stomach “and these gorgeous fucking tits that only i can see and suck on like this” he said, taking your other breast in his mouth and groaning at the feeling of your hardened nipple against his tongue.

“but the prettiest part of you is your pussy. is it wet for me? wet enough for me to fuck you so slowly just how you like it, and tell you how gorgeous you are? hm?” you nodded softly, biting your lip lightly as you look down at him, his mouth still attached to your right breast.

he smiled at your response.

“can I see jagi? your pretty pussy wet for me?” you nod again, “jagi” he says in a warning tone “what did we say about using our words baby?”

“m’ sorry hyune, you can see” you whisper

“good girl, love your pretty pussy so fuckin’ much” he husks, hooking a finger in your panties and dragging them down your legs, you help him by moving your hips upwards so he could get them off.

he groans when he sees your pussy, glistening with your juices. he drags his grey sweats down his hips and throws them to the floor.

“you ready?” he asks, his eyes half lidded, a seductive look glistening in his eyes.

“please hyune” you whimper, trying to widen your legs even more, if it were possible.

he nods before sinking himself inside of you, slowly stretching you out around his thick cock, but that wasn’t the aim of what he was doing. he wanted to fuck you slowly and sensually, making sure you thought you looked so gorgeous all of the way through and remembered how absolutely stunning you were in his eyes.

you pulled him closer via the back of his neck, tugging lightly at the strands of hair on the nape of his neck. slowly moved in and out of you, making sure you could feel every inch of him inside of you, every vein every inch, everything. he wanted to make you feel special tonight, not the usual where you’re all fucked out and tired, no, he wanted you to feel so good while he told you that you were enough for him.

he moved in and out of you, whispering soft praises into your ear, telling him how well your pussy took him in, how well you fit around his fat cock.

“fuck, so pretty jagi, so fucking pretty. don’t let anyone tell you otherwise, you look so fucking gorgeous the way you are, you don’t need to change for anyone” he groans into your ear, you moan out in response

“say you’re gorgeous baby, wanna hear you say it” he close to whimpers

“fuck hyune- i’m gorgeous” you say, mostly to him than yourself

“louder” he says, quickening the pace, but not by much

“i’m gorgeous” you moan out

“louder” he growls loudly in your ear, hitting that gummy spot inside of you over and over

“fuck gonna cum- i’m gorgeous!” you scream out as you’re thrown over the edge into pure ecstasy, your orgasm shaking you violently. hyune came not long after, feeling your gummy walls clench around him was enough to make him come.

he pulls out and lays next to you.

“seriously, jagi, you are absolutely the most gorgeous human being in this universe, don’t let all those people online tell you otherwise, they hide behind vile comments for a reason, they’re all too scared to say it to your face” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear “lets get you in the bath, hm? and then we can binge that show you love so much and take a nap, sound good?” you nod and smile in response, he smiles back “good, lets go then” he says, helping you up to the bathroom to run you a nice hot bath.

you knew people online hated you and hyune’s relationship, and they thought he could do better. but at least you had reassurance from hyune to tell you that you’re gorgeous and no one can change that for him. he will always love you, and you love him too.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin smut #stray kids #kpop

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rookiesbookies · 1 year ago

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The difference between Krueger and Konig with their darlings.

Thank you @shotmrmiller for listening to my ramblings

The difference between Konig and Krueger with their darlings is a bit crazy.

Konig was so rude when he first met his darling, talking down to her. However, a Konig who is teary after his first rut. His benevolent sexism makes him feel awful for using such a delicate and sweet creature for his gross needs. His anxiety feeding him thoughts that he may have hurt his darling, that she is too pretty for him, that her situation may have made her have to sign up for this job when she may not have even wanted it, and how she must view him as such a vile monster.

Almost all of that melts away when his darling reaches under his hood and rubs his face, running her fingers through his hair. She tells him how grateful she is that he was so careful with her in such an intense moment, how grateful she is that he didn’t judge her body. His eyes widen as he realizes she understands. The next few hours were full of sweet conversations and bonding.

Krueger who is so rude as well, but has no benevolence. That a woman is a distraction from his work. That his frustrations of any kind or taken out on the field.

Krueger, who his darling finds sitting outside her bedroom door in the early mornings, mask clutched tightly in his hands, eyes blown out and down right begging. He won’t say it, he wont apologize to a woman, but he needs NEEDS his darling he understands why she’s needed now. His hand, now well washed from the sink in his bathroom, was not enough. He’s telling her to let him just touch her, but he wouldn’t without her permission. He’s only running his hands over her forearms, grinding lazily against her pajamas pants the first time he ends up needing her. He cums in his pants and threatens her before leaving, some bullshit about how she will never tell anyone if she wants to live.

A Kruger, who now gets sexual satisfaction just from her scent. He’s addicted to her, she brings him comfort, yet he has no clue how to express it properly so he comes off angry and mean. She can see in his eyes he’s not, she just wishes he could say it to her.

Krueger who tries desperately to ask Konig how he got his darling to be so obedient. Not knowing how soft Konig is with her, and not knowing how to ask without sounding condescending.

Konig who acts all tough and rude but in reality he’s reaching behind him to hold her foot while sitting in this meeting because she’s his emotional support animal (like Jelly Roll and Bunny when he presented at the senate (i think it was the senate))

Konig, who won’t dare tell Krueger that the only reason his darling always knows is because he got those stupid couples bracelets off tiktok so he can press the button and her’s lights up. She presses it the first time to let him know she saw it, pressing a second time when she’s near. Sometimes he makes it light up just to let her know he needs her in that moment, sometimes its just to sit there and exist near him, sometimes its standing outside the door looking in the glass where he can see her when he talks in a meeting, sometimes it’s rubbing his back and holding his hand in stressful training with new recruits, sometimes he needs her sexual right then in there.

All Krueger sees is that every time Konig needs her, his darling is there and Krueger craves it.

Konig tries to tell him without telling him that he melted into the arms of his darling, but Krueger won’t understand it unless told straight up.

Krueger who goes to his darling to try to talk but finds her door unlocked and her laying in her bath.

“Are you-”

“I’m just incredibly sore.” She hummed, head propped on the edge of the tub with a towel and a cool wash cloth over her eyes.

“I-”

“They said in your file you wouldn’t apologize, so don’t bother trying.” She grumbled.

“If you know-”

“Why do I seem so grumpy?” She mocked, taking the wash cloth off her face. “I’m doing you a favor and I still get called a whore.” She said, putting her pointer finger to his chest.

There was silence.

Kruger who is trying to make you understand the way Konig made his darling understand but he has no clue how gentle Konig is with her, nor does he understand the chaos in Konig’s head when his darling isn't near brought on by his monster. Krueger, who does everything but beg and plead and cry to Konig about it, asking how he did it because his darling is so hateful and he hates it because he knows he caused it.

“I’m sorry for how I was.” He mumbled, not meeting her eyes. He didn’t see them soften as she got up to leave. She was too shocked to go after him, too sore to chase him, too naked and wet to do anything.

He locked her door and closed it as he stepped out, a small act of kindness that she didn’t realize until someone tried to open it as she was getting dressed later to give her papers.

She slipped a little sticky note written with words of forgiveness on it under his door later that night.

Maybe he wouldn’t have to be jealous of Konig anymore.

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

#cod x reader #call of duty #konig call of duty #konig x reader #sebastian krueger x reader #cod krueger #cod monster au

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pinkorchidsinspring · 6 months ago

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“It’s like they don’t actually listen to her or her songs” ……. Bitches be trippin

Here is some lyrics from HER songs off the top of my head btw…

SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY

Sit quiet by my side in the shade. And not the kind that’s thrown, i mean the kind under where a tree has grown ( no one asked for this clarification btw and as in her publicist tree Paine covers up-shades any rumors of being gay?)

Your finger on my hairpin trigger

too in love to think straight

Your braids like a pattern. Love you to the moon and to Saturn.

Everybody’s watching her but she’s looking at you

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet

it’s new the shape of your body

Wear you like a necklace

No one knows how much I miss you

bet i can still melt your world argumentative, antithetical, dream girl

then you won’t have to cry, or hide in the closet

you can want who you want, boys & boys and girls & girls!

why are you mad? when you could be GLAAD?” (it’s literally spelled GLAAD in the lyrics on spotify I can’t make this up)

we're a crooked love, in a straight line down

save your dirtiest joke for me and at every table, I save you a seat… I’m sorry, but she wants a man sitting on her? 😐🙄

I don’t want to keep secrets just to keep you

big reputation, ooh you and me would be a big conversation

All we are is skin and bone, trained to get along Always going with the flow, but you're friction

The rest of the world was in black & white (straight, see straight pride flag), but we were in screaming color (queer, LGBTQ+ pride flag)

What’s it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models?

Like a rainbow with all of the colors you’ll never find another like me!

It’s okay we’re the best of friends……aaanyway

I want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever, confess my truth In swooping, sloping, cursive letters

don’t you worry your pretty little mind

I got a boyfriend, he’s older than us. I haven’t seen him in a couple of months. (Bearding much?)

Your lover in the foyer doesn’t even know you.

Bad bad boy shiny toy with a price you know that I bought it

don’t step on OUR gowns

If you never touched me, I would've Gone along with the righteous If I never blushed, then they could've Never whispered about this And if you never saved me from boredom I could've gone on as I was But, Lord, you made me feel important And then you tried to erase us

What would you do if they never found us out

You showed me colours you know I can’t see with anyone else

Seems like there’s always someone who disapproves, they’ll judge it like they know about me and you

The entirety of lavender haze

🫥 come at us swifties.

Why in the world would they agree to the stunt… I wonder when they gain absolutely nothing from the attention put on people whose names are attached to a WORLD renowned superstar…….. 🤑🤑🤑

#gaylor #swifties #get over yourselves

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lace-coffin · 11 months ago

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Hey! I’m genuinely in love with your characterisation/headcanons of Asa Emory, so could i get some headcanons of him and an S/O who has an oral fixation? like, they put things in their mouth to chew for stimulation/stimming, if that make sense.

That makes me so happy to hear omg!! Thanks for the request < 3

Asa Emory x Autistic!FTM!Reader with an oral fixation/stim

-Asa first notices briefly after kidnapping you, he always caught you chewing on your fingers or fingernails until they were red raw, that would have to change

-he would tell you to stop firmly whenever he catches you, pulling your bitten fingers away from your mouth, you apologise softly, looking a little embarrassed

-this however didn’t stop you he came to find, he’d have to try another approach. He does some online research and realises it might be a way you stim, and by proxy falls down a rabbit hole about autism. The pieces seem to fit and he eventually asks you straight up.

-for now you’re given things like stuffed animals and blankets to occupy your mouth with, this is until he can get some more appropriate items specifically made for stimming. He doesn’t want to risk giving you anything too hard and damaging your teeth

-he won’t judge you for it, he’s had all kinds of pets before you and to be honest he’s probably autistic too (bc I say so)

-if your his favourite pet and his boyfriend then you can pick stim toys together online, he’ll sit you on his lap and let you browse on his laptop, head resting over your shoulder

-doesn’t mind if you chew him, he’ll let you bite at his finger for a little before redirecting you to a toy, you only get away with it bc you’re his favourite boy

-you still end up chewing holes into your hoodie sleeves and biting at the strings but it’s pretty harmless

-chewllery! Asa will totally try get you some bug themed chewlerry. Totally not for his own amusement or anything, he might even try some after he sees you using it, getting a little more comfortable with his own autism after seeing you unmask around him

#slashers #slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #writing #asa emory #asa emory x reader #my writing #the collection #autistic reader #autistic writer

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luffyvace · 11 months ago

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Tanjiro x male reader<3

Tanjiro x male reader won second place in the poll!! :) enjoy tanjiro stans<3

Starting back at the final selection let’s say that’s when you met

just to clear things up

and you two started dating some time after that

of course eventually making it official

tanjiro was quite flustered when he realized his sexuality might be different from tradition

but he wasn’t afraid to be bi/gay/pan or anything

he just thought- ..! Actually he never really thought of that type of thing..

I mean he was kinda too young

but now that your together!

he has time to figure it all out :)

tanjiro is such a sweet lover!

and helpful!

and caring!

(Really he’s a ball of love)

if you feel tired he carries you

(Even if your both beat up after a mission)

if you need water he’ll spare you some of his or go fetch some

And he’s always down to spar at any type of day!

I will say he’s not thinking about you in that way when you take your shirt off

but when you do he definitely admires you!

you might have abs seeing as though the demon slayer corps has………...harsh (brutal) training 😅

if you do then he sees it as a result of your hard work!

same with scars!

especially with scars<3

he can 100% relate and you two share stories about each one

if you have any—you probably trauma bond

you guys just end up talking all night long about your past, everything that happened, your pain, whether you want revenge or not and so on!

It strengthens your trust and relationship with each other

btw if anyone asks why your together as two males or how you know you actually like men..

tanjiro will humbly and politely educate (lecture) them on how important you are to each other, how you met, why/when you started dating and even if they don’t like it, it’s simple to walk away instead of disrespecting your relationship!

I hope y’all don’t run into uzui..

(y’all do)

that man has THREE wives why wouldn’t he question when he sees you two?? 😬🧍‍♀️

tanjiro had to hit em with the quick fix cuz when I tell you he did not let that slide 😂

especially with how slick uzui mouth be gettin..😒

Tanjiro also has learned to adjust to scavenging for food (he grew crops with his mom)

as well as inosuke (he grew up in the wild) and zenitsu (he used to have crops with his sensei)

so if you can too, great!

if not the 3 of them work together to make the 4 of you meals

and after they learn how to stop burning them

theyre pretty tasty too!!

don’t expect inosuke to share.

do expect inosuke to take

-note to self, m/n.

zenitsu doesn’t see the attraction to males instead of females

he won’t judge but will ask you two if your sure your into males

and after tanjiro gives him that lecture about being respectful-

he doesn’t question it again

LOL

inosuke straight up don’t care

he doesn’t really view relationships in a romantic way

its more so between “they’re beneath me” , “they’re above me, I must beat them”

so no worries about him judging either 😋

if nezuko doesn’t like you

it’s not to say tanjiro won’t date you because of it

but I’ll honestly say it plays a factor

If sweet nezuko doesn’t like you it prob means something..🤨

she has good instincts so tanjiro might start to assume you have ill intent or smth 😬

he’ll try to get her to like you and if she warms up to you he assumes it might’ve been personal 😂🤷‍♀️

but if she doesn’t..

he finds you like 30% less attractive🧍‍♀️

if she does like you from jump, she starts to protect you as well

and loves to spend time with you when she’s outside her box

tanjiro adores this and you three cuddle or play in each other’s hair whenever you have the time

It also makes him happy if you accept nezuko as a demon quickly

after missions tanjiro finds you, nezuko, zenitsu and inosuke

then cries

like your all just a crying mess tbh

i mean unless your like emotionally unavailable..

BC I DON’T SEE HOW YOU COULD NOT CRY AS A MINOR WHO HAS TO KILL LITERAL HORRIFYING BEASTS FOR A LIVING?!?!?!?

Tanjiro will help you achieve your goals as you likely help him achieve his

even more so after that night you had where you opened up to each other about your past

(again, only if you have truama)

tanjiro is really grateful for you

before all he had was nezuko

and aside from zenitsu and inosuke

now he has you!! 💗

tanjiro’s love languages are acts of service, quality time, words of affirmation and (shy) physical touch

actually maybe some gift giving when he can too!!

so all?!

such a green flag 💖

for acts of service as I said he’ll genuinely do any sane thing you ask of him

he cares about you that much

he won’t bother to complain about being tired either

he automatically assumes your either doing worse or he’s fine

as for quality time he gets really relieved when he gets sent on missions with you

at least he can be there to see and protect you

(or maybe vice versa 😂)

he’d beat himself up about not being able to protect you more if you get serious injures

tends to your wounds everyday then trains vigorously

to get stronger and protect you as you fight along side him when he fights muzan

if your gonna fight along side him in that battle? He’s gonna need to be strong enough to protect you.

he doesn’t want to loose you.

especially not to that man.

he lost everything to him.

he won’t let it happen again.

💗💕💖🍡♥︎

for quality time outside of missions ✌︎('ω')✌︎

tanjiro likes to train, cuddle, go on walks, go shopping, chit chat :)

All that good stuff <3

with words of affirmation he really just praises you all the time

”you did your best today in training! I could tell! :D”

“You look great today m/n!! I’m glad your wearing the (favorite men’s jewelry piece) I got you!”

”I can definitely tell your getting stronger, m/n!!!”

it can also be

“get a good nights sleep, m/n! I love you!”

”be careful on your mission okay? I love you, m/n!”

“thank goodness we surviveeeeed!!! I love you m/n!! I love you so much!!”

now lastly for (shy) physical touch

he is nervous to touch you

he doesn’t wanna make you uncomfortable, yes that’s the last thing he wants

he doesn’t know how to execute it so he ends up either asking or making it very obvious of what he’s trying to do

that way you can shut him down early on just in case

and you won’t feel pressured to let him if you dislike affection

which mind you he does asks if your okay with it first

so that’s likely not the case

if you did mention your distaste for physical affection, however, it’s duly noted in his mind and will keep it to a minimum

your gonna have to discuss boundaries or else he’s gonna act like you have the plague trying not to upset you 🤦‍♀️🤷‍♀️

Tanjiro doesn’t dislike pda or anything

he’s just a bit embarrassed about it

maybe if it’s more subtle like resting your head on his shoulder, then yeah that’s okay!

hugging too!!

but direct kissing or hand holding?

his face is a cherry and he’s apologizing to the passerbyers for disturbing them

even if they don’t mind

he’s self aware when it comes to not disturbing others

tanjiro can be a little flustered/shy about things but he’s certainly isn’t embarrassed about your relationship!

he’s quite proud, actually!

will happily tell/correct anyone that asks or misjudges♡♡♡

It’ll make me happy if you enjoyed this, so hopes to you did!

(apologies for the procrastination, and thank you for your patience lovelies!)

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morganski-19 · 14 days ago

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 58

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 55, part 56, part 57

the first half takes place during part 35, the second half takes place after part 37,

“Did you get it?” Eddie asks as Steve closes the door behind him.

Steve nods, pulling a takeout bag out from under his jacket, placing it on the tray. He pulls out a burger and hands it to Eddie.

He can’t unwrap it fast enough. After weeks of eating nothing but hospital slop, all he wanted was a greasy burger. Something that drips down his wrists with flavor that’s so rich it could kill you. Eddie bites into it and has to hold back a moan.

“You must go there a lot, they knew it was you from the order.”

It’s not like he’s that creative, just the perfect amount of pain in the cook’s ass for them to know it’s him. Regular cheeseburger, hold the tomato, double the pickles, and an onion ring. If he’s feeling it, a little bit of hot sauce. Fries on the side and a medium coke.

“Nah,” Eddie says over a mouthful of food. “Just how memorable I am.”

Steve snorts, “I’m sure.” He unwraps his own burger and turns to the television. Watching the dumb soap operas that play twenty-four seven. It was their thing, watching them and yelling at the characters for making dumb decisions. Or that one instant where they were both upset when their favorite character died.

What Steve doesn’t know, is that Eddie doesn’t really watch the TV when he’s here. Because, when everything else in his life hurts, he takes these moments to let himself live a little. Taking the risk in the areas he can.

The best part of it all, is that even when Steve catches him, he never judges. Or assumes. Or anything. He just smiles when they lock eyes before turning away again. It’s like he doesn’t care that Eddie’s staring. He just lets it happen.

It’s reckless, what Eddie’s doing. It’s a path that’s going to lead to more pain. There’s no end that will lead to these stupid feelings going anywhere. Steve was straight, Eddie wasn’t. If Eddie’s lucky, Steve won’t care about that. But he can’t see this ending without Steve being uncomfortable. Who wouldn’t be in this situation.

Eddie just couldn’t stop. For these moments, he wasn’t trapped in a hospital bed. His legs were fully functional, and his arms didn’t shake when he lifted them. There wasn’t a burn that encircled his abdomen, marking each and every inch of healed skin. No nausea from the pain.

He was normal again. So if this road ended in heartbreak, Eddie would travel down it willingly. Just if it meant feeling something other than pain.

And sometimes, if he let himself believe it, when Steve locks eyes with him, it could be real.

“How’s your burger?”

Such a simple question, but it captivates him. Everything about Steve captivates him.

“Good. Thanks for getting it.”

He smiles. That sinful smile. “It’s no problem. I can’t imagine being holed up here for this long, I’d be begging for anything other than the shit they bring you.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “If I see oatmeal again, it will be too soon.”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugs. “Make it right and it’s not so bad.”

“Would consider you much of a chef, there, Steve.” Eddie crumples up the empty wrapper and leans forward to put it in the bag. Ignoring the pain that shoots up his arms as his muscles stretch. The constant tremor of his hands as they move.

“Well when you live by yourself, you learn pretty fast that you need to learn how to make something other than frozen pizza.”

Something Eddie’s learned about Steve is that he just drops random facts about himself and plays them off as normal. When, in reality, they’re not. They’re a lot sadder than they should be.

Steve keeps surprising him with how sad he really is. Now that he sees it, it’s hard not to notice.

“Maybe you can make me something when me and Wayne move in.”

Because that was happening. He still can’t believe Wayne actually agreed to it, but he was glad he did. He deserved to stay someplace where he didn’t have to worry that much. Eddie’s put him through enough these past three months, he doesn’t need anything else weighing on him.

And if it meant he didn’t have to pop this little bubble that he lives in with Steve, well then who was he to argue.

“Maybe,” Steve smiles. God, that smile would make Eddie believe anything.

Even this.

Wayne stops by in the evening, passing Steve on his way out. The nurses bring in Eddie’s dinner tray, not knowing he’s going to ignore all of this. Now that his bills are being paid off, he can afford to let some things go to waste. Which is a crazy concept.

But he will eat the Jello. It’s the only thing on this plate that actually looks edible.

“How’s living in the mansion,” he asks Wayne. The disbelief that he will actually get to know what that is like still amazing him.

“Don’t think it’s officially a mansion,” Wayne downplays. He always does that. “It’s just a big house.”

A house bigger than Eddie’s ever dreamed of living in. “Same thing.”

“It’s fine,” he responds, watching as Eddie stabs the Jello with his fork.

“And living with Steve?”

He doesn’t know the answer he’s begging for, but he needs something. Something to prove to him that Steve is like this outside of this room. Outside of the chaos. That the person he’s falling for faster than he should is the person he thinks he is, and it wasn’t just some cruel façade.

“Also fine,” Wayne answers, a knowing lilt to his voice.

A breath of relief leaves Eddie’s lungs before he realizes it. Before he feels the weight of Wayne’s stare, and the knowingness behind it.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Eddie finally eats the Jello, the little bits he’s made falling off of the fork. Why they don’t give him a spoon, he doesn’t know.

“Because I know you, and I’ve seen this look before. Didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now.”

Then wasn’t like this. Then was back in high school when Eddie was stupidly optimistic about his romantic prowess. Now, he’s a little more realistic. Except every single time Steve walks through that door, there’s this bubbling hope that makes him want to throw up. That maybe, just maybe, he isn’t wrong about it this time. It terrifies him to think that it could be real.

Eddie clicks his tongue, trying to get the topic to change. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?”

“No, you don’t.” Eddie doesn’t mean to, but he slams the Jello down onto the tray. His arms never quite working in the way he needs them to. But it gets Wayne to shup up, to move on.

Because, as much as he hates to admit it, Wayne does know Eddie. He knows, and it’s too much to have another person know. It’s bad enough that he has feelings for Steve at all, it’s another thing to have someone know about it. Especially when he knows what Wayne is going to say.

Wayne has this thing where he likes to get stuck in the past. Look at people for what they’ve done and nothing else. Which isn’t bad, it’s something Eddie’s done too. But with Steve, he’s changed so much that Eddie’s afraid Wayne going to see the reputation he’s had before as the end all be all. That he’s going to get all protective and refuse to think that this could be a good thing.

Most of all, though, he’s afraid that saying the feelings out loud are going to make them real. Right now, it’s a fantasy to help him sleep at night. But as soon as someone knows, as soon as it gets out, it’s more. It’s real. Something Eddie has to deal with real consequences for.

He’s not ready for that.

. . .

It’s one of those nights where Eddie can’t sleep. Not because he doesn’t want to, he’s practically begging to. But because the pain is just loud enough to still be painful. After weeks of living with it, it’s gotten better. Or more, Eddie’s gotten so used to it that he thinks it’s gotten better. But he hopes that it actually has.

Night like these, though, when the dull hum he’s gotten used to grows into a screaming storm that just won’t stop, he can’t sleep. His body is exhausted. His mind is tired, and his eyes droop closed. Yet, he still can’t sleep.

To make matters worse, he’s so damn thirsty. Which means he has to move.

Taking the blankets off him already makes him want to quit. Waves of pain shooting up his arm, making his muscles tense. Still sore from the physical therapy appointment he had yesterday. He lets it fall back on the bed and takes a few deep breaths. Then, he sits up.

Fire spreads through his body, burning. Making his skin hot, and his brain scream out to lay back down.

Still, this wasn’t as bad as it could be.

He grabs his crutches and uses them as leverage to stand. His legs joining the fire as he starts to walk out of the room. Each step feels like knives, but not he’s stepping on them. Like there is a cage around each of his legs filled with needles, and every step forces them to break skin.

Most days, he can get through it. Tonight, it’s enough to make him fall to the floor and give up.

But maybe the universe decides to give him some form of relief, because when he gets to the kitchen, Steve’s there. Sitting in the dull light of the kitchen, eating.

He hears Eddie coming and turns to look at him. “Hey.”

Eddie hasn’t seen Steve in three days. Not since the morning after he moved in. Then, it looked like Steve was hit by a bus. Face drained and tired, barely able to stand. He looks just slightly better than that. Like the bus didn’t manage to kill him.

“Hey.” It comes out pained. He sets his crutches against the side of the island and sits down. Needing a minute to catch his breath.

Steve’s face fills with a concern he’d rather not see. “You ok?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” he explains. “Came out here to get some water, but need a breather.”

He nods, that concern morphing into a state of understanding. Out of everyone, Steve is the one who can understand this the most. He never will completely understand it, but it’s just enough where he knows pity won’t change anything. It’s something Eddie’s grateful for. Sitting here, with Steve, he doesn’t need to mask it, doesn’t need to dull it on the outside for the betterment of whoever’s seeing it. He can sit here and feel it, instead of trying to make everyone else around him feel better about it.

“Want me to get you some?” Steve asks, nothing but consideration in his voice.

Eddie nods. His legs already dreading getting up again. “Please.”

Silently, Steve gets up and grabs a glass from the cabinet. For someone with such a big reputation, most things Steve does are silent. When he’s moving around in a place he doesn’t have to hide, the rawness that lies beneath the surface shines. Eddie likes seeing this side of Steve.

Eddie thanks Steve when the water is placed in front of him. Takes a deep breath to gather himself for the pain that sparks when he lifts it to drink. “How’s your head,” Eddie asks. Generally curious, but also wanting distraction.

“Liks someone keeps stabbing it, but with a smaller knife this time. At least I can eat something now.”

“That is an improvement.” Eddie winces when he puts the glass down, the pain really giving him no breaks.

“Bad night?”

Eddie laughs. “You have no idea. Hasn’t been this bad since I woke up. You weren’t kidding about the scars.”

If the pain itself wasn’t enough, his scars sting. He can feel every place those fuckers bit into his skin. Feel the stretch of regrown skin pull with each movement. An itch so deep that it makes him want to claw the skin right off again.

“Yeah, I’d say it gets better, but I still wake up from it sometimes.”

“It gets better, it doesn’t get better, which is it? You all keep telling me things and I’m not sure which to believe anymore.”

Steve sighs. “Probably because we don’t even know what to believe. It’ve been doing this shit for four years, and each one gets worse. And there are days where I get and I feel normal, think it might be the end of everything. Then I get a nightmare that gets me reaching for the bat under my bed and I get so scared of a shadow I almost break a hole in my wall. Better starts feeling like a word you don’t know the definition of anymore.”

He turns to look at Eddie. His face reeks of tiredness and lingering pain. Like half the soul inside was sucked away, leaving this. It’s so vulnerable, Eddie finds cruel comfort in it. The kind that rots in his core, because how could he be comforted by another’s pain. Yet, to know he isn’t alone is a feeling he can’t explain.

“I started making small goals for myself,” Eddie starts. “At first it was walking to the bathroom by myself. Then standing for longer periods of time. Do one extra rep for this exercise. Just to prove that something is changing, that there’s the possibility that I could get better. Some days I don’t think that’s in the cards for me.”

“Better doesn’t mean perfect. Robin said that to me a while ago. It didn’t really help then, I had just started getting my really bad migraines and I—I thought that I’d spend the rest of my life suffering. And the medications help, but not entirely. But I am still better than I was a year ago. Doesn’t mean I’ll ever reach perfection, but I’ll take better.”

Eddie lets that thought roll around in his mind for a moment. The words themselves seep compassion, but he can’t help but feel the wrongness of it all. The desperate claw to get back to where he was. To touch that guitar that’s sitting in the corner of his room and actually be able to play it again.

Progress, healing, everything after this has taken time. Eddie hates it. He’s so used to jumping from thing to thing, learning a new song to drawing up a new campaign. Finding joy in the things that he loves is becoming work that will make him resent it. It was easy for him once, he doesn’t know how to make it easy again.

“I know it’s hard,” Steve continues. He looks at Eddie again. The trust Eddie holds in this gaze should be criminal. “I know I’ll never know your pain. All I can tell you is that it does get better, however that looks for you. And don’t let yourself get dragged down when it doesn’t get better immediately, it’ll only make things worse.”

“Wow, when did Steve Harrington get so wise?” Eddie jokes. It feels wrong on his tongue, but it’s all he can do instead of crying.

Steve snorts. A soft smile forming on his lips. “Years of practice.”

Is it cruel to think that Eddie could kiss him right now? That, now that he’s thinking about it, they’re sitting so close to each other it would be so easy. It could be the easiest thing Eddie’s done in weeks, just lean a few inches and know what’s it like to kiss someone without the fear of getting caught. To know what it’s like to kiss Steve.

For a second, Steve blinks, his eyes glancing down and back up again. He could do it, right now. But he doesn’t.

Because Eddie is a coward, and a shameful one at that.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson #steve harrington #wayne munson #pre steddie #chronic pain eddie munson

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