#so yeah. whatever. just wanted to get this off my chest.

[reignpage]

Working Hard

“Stay still, ma,” Toji demands again. 

He’s holding himself up above you, bare chested, muscles pronounced and flexing, and a slight sheen of sweat coating his toned body. His hair is all mussed up and you can’t resist running your hand through it, clearing his vision of you. 

With one corner of his lips pulled up, he winks at you and asks, “Gonna lie there and be good for me?”

“I’ll behave, Scout’s honour.” You giggle. 

Rolling his eyes, he bends his arms, biceps bulging delectably, and nears your face. He does it with ease, in one simple move, no hesitation, no creak or friction. So effortlessly, agile and powerful — you feel heat in your cheeks. 

This big, strong man is all yours. 

And he knows it. 

“That’s fifty now, doll. Ya know the drill,” he reminds you. 

Breath fanning across your face, his nose brushes against yours and all you can see is him. Just him. And it’s all you ever want to see for the rest of your life — Toji chasing your lips with every push up, carrying his weight so he won’t crush you, couldn’t bear to do it. Would rather die than bruise your body in ways you wouldn’t like. 

You kiss him on the lips, tasting the salt there and going back for seconds. Tongue tracing the crease of his lips, you push in, desperate to deepen the kiss, to have more. 

He tuts, arms suddenly extending to full height. “Ya said you’ll behave; ya promised.”

“But, Toji,” you begin, pouting, “you’re taking forever to get to one hundred. I don’t want to just peck you every time. I literally cannot wait until one hundred for a proper kiss.”

You reach out, arms outstretched to wrap your hands around his clammy neck, making pitiful attempts to pull him back down. He scrapes his teeth against your wrist, a playful warning. 

“That’s too damn bad, ma. We made a deal and y’r gonna have to honour it, yeah?” 

“Whatever.”

He snorts. “Atta girl.”

And then he’s bending back down, grunting on his way. You swivel your head to the side with a huff, cheek grazing his jutted out lips. 

“Now y’r just being mean,” he snickers, soft lips skimming your jaw, a deep inhale rumbling through his chest. “Come on, ma. I need my reward, don’t I? Y’r not gonna make me beg for it, are ya?”

Toji’s flexing up, body pushing itself higher and higher above you, slowly, testing you. You’re weak; you cave. 

Arms wrapping around him again, you bring down with a grunt. He teases you with part of his weight, pinning you to the ground. Your legs curl around him too until there’s no space existing between you. 

You smother his cheeks in wet, sloppy kisses, giggling as he makes groans of complaint, rolling on the mat until you’re cradled on his chest, still attacking wherever you can with pecks. 

“Knew you’d be a distraction; can never work when you’re here,” he sasses. 

With one final smooch right on his nose — he crinkles it, in fake disgust you hope — you rest your chin on his chest, and suggest, “If it’s cardio you want to do, why not do something more fun, Toji baby?”

He makes another noise of complaint, about the term of endearment but he’s lazily grinning at you, huge hands tightening their grip around your back. 

“Alright, ya win.” He rolls his eyes and smacks your ass. “Pants off and get on my face, ma.”

Working out is fun if it’s with Toji.

[yunniverse]

Can’t Get Rid of You

౨ৎ PAIRING— university student!jeong yunho x university student!reader

౨ৎ GENRE— academic rivals to lovers, angst, fluff, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, fluff, yunho is rude at times, but so is reader

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 4.9k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— both you and yunho are chosen to attend the same conference, staying in a local hotel, only there’s only one room, and you both seemingly hate each other

౨ৎ A/N— it’s here!! i’m sorry it took so long for me to write, but i hope you all still enjoy it and it lives up to expectations!! thank you so much for your interest and lmk what you think <3

“Mind if I sit here?”

Looking up, you’re almost in disbelief at who you see.

“Wha-” you stutter, but he rolls his eyes, taking the seat anyway. “Excuse me-“

“Take it up with the flight attendant. This is my seat.” Yunho responds, a far too cheeky smirk on his face.

“And why do you have a seat right next to me?” you ask, frowning, as you move your stuff so he doesn’t kick it or sit on it.

“Because we’re from the same school and going to the same conference. I’m sure you know that the university paid for our tickets, unless you’re that dumb,” he responds, giving you a sideways look before putting in his AirPods.

“Are you going to the Tokyo conference?” you ask, already knowing the answer.

“Are you deaf or did you not hear when I just told you we’re going to the same conference?” Yunho replies, quirking an eyebrow at you.

“Wow, rude,” you roll your eyes, settling back into your seat, jamming your own earbuds in your ears, just as the plane starts to takeoff. This is going to be a long weekend.

Dragging your suitcase behind you, you begrudgingly follow Yunho into the fairly nice hotel the university had booked for you to stay in over the weekend. He leads the way to the front desk, where he gets the receptionist’s attention. “I have a booking from Seoul National University.”

She types on her keyboard, the keys clicking as she searches. “Names?”

“Jeong Yunho,” he responds, and, before you can say your own name, he adds. “And Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Are you both together?” the receptionist gestures to you and Yunho, making you glance at Yunho too.

“No,” you respond, shaking your head.

She frowns, “Are you both from the same university?”

“Yes…” Yunho replies hesitantly. “Is there an issue?”

“Seoul National University only booked one room,” the lady informs both of you, making your heart sink.

“Are you sure?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Positive. Would you still like to take the room or ask the university first?” she asks, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

“We’ll take it,” Yunho sighs, making you look at him in shock, as the receptionist nods and types on the keyboard before passing Yunho the room key card. With a nod to her, he starts to move again, clearly expecting you to follow.

“Yunho!” you hiss, rushing to follow him as he heads to the elevator. “I am not sharing a room with you all weekend.”

“Or…” he turns sharply to look at you as you almost collide with his chest at the abrupt stop. He bends down a little to be at your height. “You could grow up and realize that the school will take all weekend just to fix the room error and you’re going to have to get used to the idea of living with me for a weekend because it’s the best we’re going to do unless you want to pay for your own expensive room.”

Your mouth snaps shut at his reprimand, even though you really want to fight back. You know it would be fruitless anyway.

“Good. Now, I’m exhausted, so let’s go find the room, yeah?” he raises his eyebrows, expecting you to agree.

“Whatever,” you grumble, hating that he’s right. You bite your tongue to keep from making an additional comment about his character.

“Good girl.”

Your head snaps up, your mouth dropping open slightly, but he’s already walking off toward the elevator again. With a sharp glare at the back of his head, you yank your suitcase along with you as you follow him.

After he unlocks the room, the lock making a clicking sound as the room key works, he pushes the door open, dragging his suitcase with him as he enters the room.

“So let’s get this straight,” you start, pulling your suitcase into the room before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You got chosen to come to the same conference?”

“It’s not that deep,” Yunho responds, already setting up some of his stuff. “If you’d read the flier for the conference, you’d have known that up to four could have been chosen from our university.”

“I read the flier, but why’d you choose this one?” you respond, exasperated.

“Why’d you choose it?” he snaps, looking up at you from his spot crouched in front of his suitcase on the floor.

“Because it made the most sense for my major and I didn’t want to wait until fall to meet potential employers,” you reply confidently.

“I chose it for the same reason,” he retaliates, setting his phone down on the bedside table and plugging it into the wall charger he brought. “The world doesn’t revolve around you, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you glare at him, squeezing the handle of your suitcase. “And you’re not even smart! You’re just naturally good.”

“Hit a nerve, did I?” Yunho chuckles before gesturing to your suitcase. “You better unpack soon or you’ll be awake all night. And you’re just jealous because I don’t have to work as hard as you to be good.”

“Whatever. And I’m getting to it,” you roll your eyes. “And besides, I’m leaving to get something to eat in a minute anyway.”

“So am I,” he replies making you sigh in annoyance. “Let’s just go together. It’ll be easier.”

“I don’t want to go with—”

“Does ramen work for you?” Yunho cuts you off, looking at his phone to see restaurants near the hotel.

“I just said that I—”

“Good!” he responds, his brown eyes meeting yours, daring you to argue further. “Be ready to leave in ten minutes.”

“Yunho!” you call after him as he enters the bathroom, closing the door in your face. With a frustrated huff, you sit back down on the bed, fully aware you’re being childish about the whole situation, but too invested in being annoyed to care.

Exactly ten minutes later, you’re sitting on the bed again, after having unpacked a little, scrolling on your phone.

Yunho exits the bathroom, looking fresher and having changed clothes.

“Did you shower in there?” you ask. “You know other people need the bathroom too.”

“I didn’t shower,” he rolls his eyes, running his fingers through his dark hair. “I just changed out of my airport clothes and washed my face.”

“Well you better be prepared to wait another ten minutes before leaving to get dinner because I need more time,” you retort, grabbing your own change of clothes and heading to the bathroom.

“Take your time then,” Yunho responds, plopping down onto the bed and grabbing his phone.

“Or you could just leave and I’ll get something myself,” you respond, a last ditch effort to get him to leave you alone.

“Nah, I’ll wait. I’m in no rush,” he replies, much to your dismay.

“Of course you aren’t,” you mumble under your breath as you close the bathroom door a little harder than necessary. Why’d Yunho have to be naturally smart enough to come to this conference? He doesn’t even try!

Roughly fifteen minutes later, you exit the bathroom, slipping into some shoes as you sit on the edge of the bed again.

“Took you long enough,” Yunho’s voice greets you as you sigh.

“I gave you fair warning,” you reply, grabbing your purse as Yunho slips his shoes back on.

“Let’s go then, slow poke,” he teases as you follow him out of the room.

It takes about ten minutes to get to the ramen place, following the GPS on Yunho’s phone. It’s a quaint little place that actually looks really cozy. The bell dings overhead as Yunho pushes the door open and you both walk in.

The employees greet you as you enter, Yunho quickly snagging one of the tables near the window. For a moment, you debate sitting somewhere else, but you see that the other tables are pretty full, so you sigh, sitting across from Yunho.

“Is it that much of a struggle for you to get along with me for one single weekend until the conference is over?” Yunho asks, his voice laced with mock sweetness.

“Well it isn’t easy, that’s for sure,” you grumble.

“Well, we’re representing our university at the conference tomorrow so get it together, okay? I’m sure I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to make a fool of myself tomorrow, hm?” Yunho responds, and you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you reply through gritted teeth. “I’ll try, but only if you do too.”

“I already have been, princess,” he winks cheekily, knowing you already warned him about the domineering nickname earlier.

It takes all the restraint you have not to reach across the table and punch his perfect face.

About an hour later, you enter the hotel room again, exhausted and ready for a shower and sleep. “Dibs on the first shower,” you tell him, already grabbing your stuff.

“Be my guest,” Yunho shrugs, gesturing to the bathroom door as you walk through it, closing it and locking it behind you.

Deciding not to wash your hair tonight, you start the shower, still taking your time with cleaning yourself. When you finish, you shut the water off and hop out, slipping into your silk pajamas, brushing your teeth, and doing your skincare.

Yunho is waiting when you finally walk out, his head lifting as he hears you open the bathroom door. “Done?” he asks, to which you simply nod, allowing him to walk past you and into the bathroom.

With a sigh, you sit down on the bed, grabbing your phone and checking your messages. About twenty minutes later, the bathroom door opens, a small amount of steam seeping out as Yunho emerges, shirtless, wearing grey sweatpants slung low on his hips.

You have to forcefully avert your eyes to keep from staring at his slightly defined abs for too long, even though you have to admit his pale skin is gorgeous. Shaking your head, you force your mind out of the gutter. He’s your rival!

Surprisingly, Yunho doesn’t call you out on your ogling, choosing instead to walk over to his suitcase, crouching down, as he searches for something. “You didn’t happen to see a grey hoodie over there, did you?” he asks, looking up at you.

You look down at the bed, spotting it under the blanket you’d thrown onto the bed. “This one?” you hold it up, watching as his face lights up and he nods.

“Yeah, thanks,” Yunho replies, offering you a small smile as he walks over, reaching out to grab it. Your eyes widen as he leans over you a little, his chest nearly directly in front of your face. You swallow, feeling heat creeping up your neck as Yunho finally grabs the hoodie, his fingers brushing against yours as you release the soft fabric from your grip.

Blinking as he pulls back, you snap yourself out of it. “No problem,” you respond, watching out of the corner of your eye as Yunho slips the hoodie over his head before plopping down on the bottom of the bed, phone in hand again.

“So, sleeping arrangement?” he asks after a few minutes of silence, setting his phone down and stretching, his hoodie riding up a little to reveal a sliver of skin.

“Uh, what?”

“How are we going to sleep tonight?” he repeats, slightly exasperated.

“Closing our eyes, I guess,” you shrug, setting your own phone down.

Yunho rolls his eyes, nudging your foot with his hand, making you pull it up closer to your body, wide eyed. “You know what I mean, dummy.”

“Well, obviously, I get the bed,” you respond. “I’m the girl.”

“Oh, and girls can’t sleep on couches?” Yunho asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We can, but it’s polite of the man to let the woman take the bed, is it not?”

“Maybe it’s polite of most men, but this man is too tall to sleep on that couch,” he points at the rather small and short couch that is pushed against the wall on the opposite side of the room.

“And this woman gets cramps if I sleep in a weird position,” you argue, crossing your arms.

“But my legs will hang off the end!” Yunho retorts.

“And my back will cramp and I won’t be able to walk tomorrow!”

“Fine, you know what? I’ll be the bigger person and sleep on the couch. It’s late and I’d rather not argue with you again,” Yunho sighs, standing up as he grabs one of the pillows and a blanket.

“Wait, no, I can be the bigger person and sleep on the couch,” you start to move, suddenly feeling a little bad for making him sleep there.

“No, I’m clearly the bigger person here,” Yunho chuckles, gesturing to his height. “And like I said, I don’t want to argue anymore. So let’s just sleep, yeah?”

“Fine,” you frown, reaching over to turn the light off, bathing the room in darkness, except for the moonlight filtering in through the hotel room window.

About an hour later, you’re still awake, tossing and turning, realizing suddenly that you’re actually worried about the conference tomorrow. What if the presentation you have prepared is horrible and they all laugh at you? Or what if Yunho’s is better and he gets all the recognition and job offers?

You glance over at the couch he’s sleeping on, seeing his legs hanging off the end just as he’d said, and you suddenly feel like a horrible human being for making him sleep like that all night when he’s probably equally as nervous about the conference. “Yunho?”

“Hm?” a sleepy hum greets you as you hear rustling.

“You awake?” you ask, whispering.

“Yeah, why?” he responds, his voice a little deeper, thick with exhaustion.

“Are you sure you don’t want the bed?” you ask, hoping he won’t react strongly to your offer.

“I said you could have it,” he sighs deeply, and you can practically hear the annoyance in his tone.

“I know, but I’m clearly more qualified to take the couch,” you respond softly, surprising even yourself with your gentle tone. Suddenly, you think of something. “Or we could… share the bed?”

“No,” he replies, turning over on the couch, facing away from you.

“But you’re clearly exhausted and so am I,” you frown. “I won’t try anything, I promise.”

“Why would I think you would?” Yunho replies, laughing a little.

“I dunno,” you blush, but at least he can’t see the color on your cheeks in the dark. “I’m just trying to reassure you-“

“You know what?” Yunho sits up a little. “I’ll take you up on the offer. This couch hurts.”

You watch as he stands up, stretching before making his way over to the bed, trying not to trip on your suitcase as he steps over it. “I’ll sleep on top of the sheets, though.”

“Deal,” you nod, moving over to let him onto the bed, laughing slightly at his relieved sigh as he lays down. “Just stay on your side, okay?”

“Noted,” he responds, and you can practically hear the grin on his face. “She doesn’t like cuddling.”

“Not with you at least,” you snort in response, rolling over to face away from him. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, princess.” This time, you don’t even feel the urge to correct him.

Your eyes slowly open as they adjust to the dim light filtering into the room. Feeling warmth to your left, you let your eyes drift closed again as you unconsciously shift closer to it, your face coming in contact with something hard and warm. With a start, your eyes open and you look up to see just grey fabric in your vision.

“Huh?” you pull away, seeing that it’s Yunho’s hoodie your face is pressed into. You quickly sit up, making sure he’s still asleep, his eyes closed and his face peaceful, before you look down, seeing you’re literally in the middle of the bed. How could you go against your own rule and not stay on your side of the bed?

All you can do is hope he was too deep in sleep to notice. You quietly and carefully slip out of the bed and grab your clothes for the day out of your suitcase, heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

By the time you get out, Yunho is awake and sipping some coffee. “‘Morning,” he greets you with a nod and a small smirk.

“Good morning,” you reply, acting as causal as you can as you go to your suitcase.

“‘No cuddles’, huh?”

You grit your teeth, having half expected this. “It won’t happen again.”

“If it does, I’ll know you lied,” Yunho responds, his tone teasing as he stands up, heading to the bathroom. But before he closes the door, he adds, “And for the record? I didn’t mind.”

His words leave you confused more than anything else as you shake your head, getting back to what you were doing, needing to go over your PowerPoint again before it’s time to present at the conference.

Hours later, when it’s finally your turn to present at the conference, you walk up to the stage, your never making your hands shake. As you start, your nerves slowly dissipate, until disaster strikes. You click the little remote, but the slideshow isn’t playing. Glancing around the room, you give them a nervous smile.

“One moment please…”

Frantically, you press the button, looking at the IT team for help just before the whole computer shuts down.

With a frown, you catch Yunho’s eyes, and he looks concerned. Mustering your courage, you try to salvage the presentation as best you can. “Where was I? Oh um… I think it would really help because… um…”

Your brain feels like it’s malfunctioning and your face is on fire as you try to piece together your thoughts, when you realize. The computer wasn’t doing this for anyone else all day.

Why’d it choose you? Your eyes meet Yunho’s again and it clicks in your head. He sabotaged it. This morning, you left your computer turned on while you went to shower and he must have done something to it.

Holding back tears, you rush off the stage, completely humiliated. You’re so hysterical that you don’t notice Yunho following you out.

You notice him as you turn the corner, hearing him following you as you rush out of the huge conference room, hurrying down the hallway, trying to hold back tears.

“Wait!” Yunho calls out, catching up to you as he grabs your arm, making you whip around on him.

“Why are you acting like you care?! I just spoiled all my chances of ever making it into an elite corporation!” you cry, tears pricking your vision as you move to lean against the wall.

Yunho frowns, taking a step closer to you, “I never said I don’t care. You said that. You’re the one keeping up this ‘rivalry’ like you think there’s something wrong with both of us being smart! You know, in freshman year, I saw how hard you worked and I actually wanted to be your friend! It’s true I don’t have to try as hard, but I still care!”

Your head snaps up as you look at him, really look at him, for what feels like the first time. Your voice is shaky as you ask, “What?”

He steps closer still, “You’re the one making a big thing out of both of us being the smartest at the university and getting into all the prestigious programs together. I’ve only ever wanted the best for you… I mean it. I’ve never wished you’d fail so I could succeed.”

You notice the way his voice softens as he speaks, his brown eyes flicking across your face, trying to gauge your reaction and emotions.

“So you didn’t sabotage my presentation?” you ask, sniffling as you look up at him.

He’s taken aback for a moment, seemingly shocked that you’d even think that before he gently places his hands on your elbows, his warm hands effectively getting you to look up at him, “No, I’d never do that to you. I know how hard you’ve worked because you’re just as good, if not better, than me. What happened today was purely a technical issue and then you clammed up out there when it didn’t go as planned.”

“So, you’re positive you didn’t tamper with it?”

“I didn’t.”

Silence follows as the two of you stand together, your eyes searching his, looking for a shred of proof that he could be lying.

Finding none, you release a shaky sigh before suddenly throwing your arms around his neck, standing on your tippy toes to bury your face in the crook of his neck, finally breaking completely as you sob quietly.

He freezes for a moment, taken aback, but he slowly returns the embrace, trying to comfort you as his hand gently moving to cradle the back of your head, his other resting on your back. “Shh,” he soothes, gently rubbing your back in a soothing motion. “It happens.”

“What? Clamming up completely in front of all my potential employers?” you let out a self deprecating laugh, sniffling.

“Well that’s part of it,” Yunho chuckles softly. “But I mean the computer freezing on you. You couldn’t control that, could you?”

“I could control how I reacted, though,” you frown, pulling away from the impromptu hug. “And I reacted horribly. I crumbled under pressure.”

“You’re young and inexperienced,” Yunho responds, reasoning with you. “I think they’ll take that into account when deciding who to hire. Do you not think it’s impressive enough that you’re in your junior year of college and already got accepted to come to this conference anyway? Do you not think they’ll take that into account too?”

Sighing, you realize he’s right. “Maybe?”

“You don’t sound convinced,” Yunho laughs softly, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. “I’m serious, Y/N. You’re smart, mature, and you’re pretty easy on the eyes if I do say so myself.”

You blush slightly, “You’re just saying that…”

“I’m not,” he shakes his head, squeezing your sides gently. “I’m completely serious.”

“Okay,” you respond softly. “I believe you… even though we’re supposed to hate each other.”

“You said that, not me,” Yunho laughs.

“I can’t believe I spent two of my years of college avoiding you like the plague because I thought you hated me,” you rub your nose, sighing.

He gives you a half smile, “We can make up for it now, though, can’t we?”

“I suppose.”

“And you know what?” Yunho starts, his smile growing.

“What?” you ask curiously.

“There’ll be other conferences, other chances to impress those tycoons,” he replies, bending down a little to look you in the eyes.

You gasp suddenly, your hand moving to cover your mouth, “Yunho! You’re missing your presentation! You’re supposed to be presenting in five minutes!”

“If you screwed yours up, so did I,” Yunho laughs. “Our university will just have to pass this time around, yeah?”

“Yunho…” your hands lift to grip his shoulders. “Please go present. Do it for me? Please?”

“Are you serious? You want me to?” he asks, his eyebrows furrowing. “But why?”

“Because you’ve been kind to me for almost this whole trip, and the times you weren’t were my fault. So please, you deserve this,” you beg him.

“We deserve this,” he responds, his hand slipping into yours, intertwining your fingers, making you look down at your hand clasped in his before looking back up at his smiling face. “We’ll do it together.”

“What?” you’re shocked, confused.

“You heard me,” Yunho starts tugging on your hand. “We’ll present together. You’ll make up for your mess up, and I’ll guide you, okay?”

“For real?” you ask, a small smile growing on your face as you let him guide you back toward the conference room.

“For real.”

The presentation ends with applause from everyone in the room, and you’re beaming, a smile you can’t get rid of on your face as you and Yunho exit the stage.

Different employers talk to you for a while before they finally let you both go, exhausted yet pleased with how you’d done.

As soon as you’re out of sight from the crowd, you throw your arms around Yunho again in a tight hug. “We did it!”

“We did,” he responds, grinning, as he returns your hug, burying his face in your hair.

“Thank you,” you whisper against his neck. “For letting me do that with you.”

“You deserved it,” Yunho responds. “And maybe I was being a little selfish too?”

“Selfish?” you pull back to look at him, confused.

“I wanted you to finally like me,” he replies sheepishly. “I—I’ve been trying to get you to like me ever since I met you. You just always pushed me away.”

“I only did that because I thought we were in an unspoken rivalry,” you sigh, looking down. “I see now how stupid I was to make something like that up you never even acted like it.”

“That’s not true,” Yunho responds softly. “I did act like it quite often just because of my pride. I didn’t want you to think it was one-sided if you were going to be all… competitive.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” he breathes, before grabbing your hand in his again. “Ready to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah,” you smile, letting him lead you out of the building.

As you walk out of the airport, back on the ground in South Korea at the end of the weekend, you’re actually sad to part with Yunho to go home.

“You know, I’m kinda sad that conference was at the end of the school year,” you muse, sighing, as you wait for your sister to come pick you up.

“Why’s that?” Yunho asks, looking down at you.

“Because now I have all summer before we go back to school,” you reply, biting your lip softly.

“Why would you want to go back to school?” Yunho asks, laughing a little at the absurdity of missing school that much.

“Because…” you trail off before look up at him, your voice growing softer. “I’ll miss everything.”

“What’s everything?” Yunho asks, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Well, the campus, classes, my friends…” you trail off before taking a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?” he asks, eyes widening. “You’ll miss me?”

“Of course I will,” you respond, a small smile growing on your face. “This weekend has taught me a lot about things, including you.”

“Has the princess grown up?” Yunho asks, a hint of his old teasing tone peeking through.

“I have,” you laugh softly. “Thanks to you.”

“Glad I could be of service,” he smiles, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

Just then, you see your sister’s car pulling up. “Well, that’s my ride I guess.”

“Yeah?” Yunho asks, standing up with you as you prepare to tell him goodbye.

“Yeah,” you breathe, grabbing the handle of your suitcase. “See you later?”

“Of course,” Yunho responds, smiling softly, his beautiful brown eyes sparkling.

“Bye,” you return his smile, starting to walk toward your sister’s car. Inside, you’re warring with yourself, debating back and forth. Should you do it?

Without a second thought about it, you let go of your suitcase handle, running back to Yunho and basically launching yourself into his arms as your lips collide with his. He freezes for only a moment before he grips your sides, returning the kiss. Your lips move against his for a moment before you pull back slowly, panting slightly.

“What was that for?” he asks, breathless, as he brushes his nose against yours.

“I like you too, Yunho,” you respond, a small smile on your face as you glance at his perfect, pink lips again. “I think I always have… I was just scared.”

He grins, joy radiating from his smile, “You like me?”

“I do,” you nod shyly.

Yunho leans in again, capturing your lips with his in another, much softer kiss. When he pulls away, his gaze meets yours. “I’m so happy we spent the weekend together.”

“So am I,” you smile, reluctantly pulling away. “Well, I should go meet my sister before she wonders what’s happening.”

“Yeah,” he nods, letting you go. “Can I give you my number and maybe we can meet up sometime this summer?”

“Please,” you nod, taking his phone from him to type on your number. With a mischievous smile, you make the contact name ‘Princess’ with a heart emoji. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” he responds, smiling when he sees the contact name. “I’ll text you soon.”

“Alright,” you smile, leaning in to give him one more hug before pulling away for real this time. “You know, I’m glad the university made a mistake with the rooms.”

“Me too,” Yunho smiles. “I got to see how much of a cuddle bug you really are.”

“Well, if you ask me out soon, you might get to see it again.”

“Is now too soon?” Yunho laughs, but you can tell he’s serious. “Will tomorrow work? I can come anywhere.”

“There’s a cafe in downtown Seoul. Would that work?” you suggest.

“Perfect,” he smiles, nodding. “I’ll text you the time I’ll pick you up once you send the address, alright?”

“I guess I was worried for nothing,” you laugh, shaking your head slightly.

“About what?” Yunho asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

“Missing you this summer.”

He winks as you move to go to your sister’s car, “You can’t get rid of me that easily, princess.”

“I think I’m slowly learning that fact.”

Taglist: @hongjoongspoetry, @originallyyn, @outlawinthisworld1117, @anxieteez, @touchme-teezme, @fixonateez8, @hum4n-e4ter, @cherriehaz, @eixila, @i-love-ateez, @gigikubolong29, @kyeos4ng, @annoyingretard, @grandlightcandy, @vanishingboots, @bkimrose, @hobarihope, @sunshiinmidnight, @yuyusuyu, @yunnierights, @sunkissedchocobeauty, @seonghwasprincess, @yunhowooyo, @bloomyroses, @hwalilac, @sheerfreesia007

if there’s a strike through your name, i couldn’t tag </3

[reiding-writing]

please please please write a part two to adrenaline, i bet Spencer would be so worried about cold!reader in the hospital

OXYTOCIN — SPENCER REID!

you wake up in the hospital after the explosion, and spencer hasn’t left your side.

spencer reid x cold!reader | 2.0k | h/c? | cold!reader masterlist.

part one. | main masterlist.

a/n — singing sabrina carpenter in my head whilst reading this request

When you wake, it feels like you’ve been hit by a truck, repeatedly. The sterile scent of antiseptic and faint hum of machines confirms your location before your eyes even open. A hospital. Great. Just great.

You groan, blinking against the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. Everything hurts. Your thigh feels like it's been through a meat grinder, and even breathing feels like a chore.

“You’re awake,” a voice says from your side, a mixture of relief and exhaustion colouring the words.

You turn your head—too quickly, judging by the sharp sting in your neck—and find Spencer sitting in a chair near your bed. His hair is a mess, his clothes wrinkled, and his face is pale. There’s a small bandage on his temple and soot still clinging to the creases of his shirt, like he hasn’t left since the explosion.

“What... what are you doing here?” Your voice is raspy, dry. You try to clear your throat, grimacing as the action sends a dull ache through your chest.

“I...” He shifts, looking momentarily sheepish. “I didn’t want to leave until you woke up.”

You narrow your eyes, trying to ignore the way your stomach flips at his words. “You should be resting. You were barely conscious when we got out of there.”

His brows knit together in concern. “You were bleeding out when we got out of there.”

You don’t have a good retort to that. Instead, you glance down at yourself, noting the IV in your arm and the thick bandages wrapped around your thigh. A hospital gown replaces your smoke-stained clothes, and your boots—well, they’re long gone.

“God,” you mutter, leaning your head back against the pillow. “I hate hospitals.”

Spencer lets out a soft chuckle, though it’s tinged with guilt. “I know. You need one though,”

You scoff. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,”

The faintest smile tugs at his lips, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He shifts in his chair, his hands wringing together in his lap. There’s a heaviness about him now, a weight he seems unable to shake.

“What’s wrong with you?” you ask bluntly, unable to help yourself. “You look like someone ran over your cat.”

He winces at your choice of words, his fingers tightening around each other as he leans forward, his elbows braced on his knees. “I didn’t notice,” he says quietly.

“Notice what?”

He meets your gaze, his eyes glassy with guilt. “The injury. Your leg. I didn’t notice it when we were trying to get out. You were helping me the whole time, and I didn’t even see that you were hurt.”

You frown, watching as he rubs a hand over his face, frustration etched into every line of his features.

“It was chaos,” he continues, his voice trembling. “And I relied on you—again—to keep us alive, and I didn’t even—” He breaks off, inhaling sharply as if to steady himself. “I should’ve seen it. I should’ve done something. Instead, you almost—”

“Reid. Shut up.” The words come out harsher than you intend, and his mouth snaps shut. You sit up a little straighter, ignoring the stab of pain that radiates from your thigh. “You’re spiraling, and it’s annoying.”

“Annoying?” His voice is incredulous, his brows knitting together.

“Yes,” you say firmly. “Because none of this is your fault. Do you hear me? None of it. Not the explosion, not my injury, nothing.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“You couldn’t have known about my leg. Hell, I didn’t even know about my leg until I was half-unconscious on the ground. And as for relying on me—” You pause, exhaling sharply. “That’s what we do. We rely on each other. It’s how we survive. You’d have done the same for me if the roles were reversed.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Your voice softens, though your tone remains firm. “You’re not a superhero, Reid. None of us are. We make do with what we’ve got, and we did. We’re here. We made it out. That’s what matters.”

He stares at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he looks away, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I just— I hate that you got hurt because of me.”

You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t because of you. It was because some lunatic decided to blow up a building while we were inside it.”

That earns a faint smile from him, though it’s fleeting. He rubs the back of his neck, his posture still tense. “I guess I just... I don’t know. I keep replaying it in my head, thinking of all the things I could’ve done differently.”

“Join the club,” you mutter. “But fuck that, it’s over now,”

He nods slowly, though the guilt doesn’t fully leave his face. You watch him for a moment, the vulnerability in his expression tugging at something deep inside you.

“You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?” you say softly.

He glances up at you, his brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders like it’s your job,” you reply. “You don’t have to, Reid. Not with us. Not with me.”

Something in his gaze shifts at your words, a flicker of emotion you can’t quite place. He sits back in his chair, his hands resting in his lap as he looks at you.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” he says quietly, the honesty in his voice catching you off guard.

You don’t know how to respond to that. For once, the words escape you. Instead, you reach out, your pinky finger brushing against his. It’s a small gesture, but it’s enough. He looks down at your hand, his lips curving into a faint smile.

For a moment, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, the weight of the day easing just slightly. And despite the sterile surroundings and the ache in your body, you feel... okay.

And then the door opens. And you regret even thinking such an absurd thought.

“Hey hey hey, look who’s awake, how you feeling?” Derek Morgan strides into the room with a grin that’s entirely too bright for the situation. Behind him, Emily and JJ trail in, their expressions a mix of relief and exhaustion.

“Oh, fantastic,” you say dryly, pulling your hands back to drag them down your face. “The circus is here.”

Morgan chuckles, unbothered by your sarcasm, and sets a small bouquet of slightly wilted daisies on the bedside table. “We were starting to think you’d sleep forever. Reid here hasn’t left your side, you know.” He gives Spencer a pointed look, one eyebrow raised. “We had to practically threaten him just to get his head stitched up.”

Spencer shifts uncomfortably in his chair, mumbling, “I was fine.”

“No, you weren’t,” Emily chimes in, her tone matter-of-fact as she crosses her arms. “You were one sneeze away from collapsing yourself. But of course, you’d rather run yourself into the ground than listen to medical advice.”

“Runs in the family,” Morgan quips, throwing you a knowing glance.

You roll your eyes, already regretting being conscious for this conversation. “I don’t need a play-by-play of Reid’s stubbornness, thanks. I’ve lived it.”

“That’s true,” JJ says with a small smile. “You’re the only one as bad as he is when it comes to ignoring injuries.”

You open your mouth to respond—probably something sarcastic—but Emily beats you to it, her voice softer now. “We were worried about you,” she says. “Both of you.”

The words catch you off guard. You glance at Spencer, who looks down at his hands, avoiding the weight of Emily’s gaze. Your own throat tightens, and for once, you’re at a loss for something snarky to say.

“I’m fine,” you manage eventually, though you’re not entirely sure if it’s for their benefit or your own. “Just... ready to get out of here.”

“That’s not happening anytime soon,” JJ says gently. “The doctors want to keep you overnight, at least,”

You groan, leaning back against the pillow. “Of course they do.”

“Could be worse,” Morgan says with a smirk. “At least you’ve got Reid here playing nursemaid,”

“Don’t tempt me to throw something at you,” you mutter, glaring halfheartedly at him.

Spencer clears his throat, his cheeks tinged pink as he stands. “I should, uh, give you guys some time. I’ll grab coffee or something,”

“You’ve had six cups already,” JJ points out.

“Then I’ll grab water,” he counters, already heading for the door. He pauses just long enough to glance back at you. “I’ll be back.”

“You don’t have to hover, Reid,” you call after him, but he’s already gone.

The room feels quieter without him, though not exactly peaceful—not with the three pairs of eyes now fixed on you.

“Okay,” Morgan says, clapping his hands together. “Let’s hear it. What’s going on between you two?”

Your stomach drops. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he says, grinning like a cat who’s cornered a mouse. “You and the boy wonder. Something’s different,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You fold your arms across your chest.

“Sure you don’t,” Emily says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because it’s completely normal for you to nearly break down a wall looking for him and then collapse from blood loss without saying a word about it,”

You glare at her, though the heat in your face betrays you. “That was the adrenaline. And the smoke. It messes with people.”

Morgan raises an eyebrow. “Right. So the way you two were holding hands when we walked in—definitely adrenaline?”

“We weren’t—” You groan exasperatedly, and then grimace the pain it causes your throat. “I was comforting him. He’s got a guilt complex and I don’t want to deal with that for the next however long if he insists on staying.”

“Sure, sweet stuff,” Morgan smiles. “Maybe I should start calling you a puddle with how fast you melt around Boy Wonder,”

“Don’t you all have something better to do?” you snap, wishing desperately for an escape hatch.

“Not really,” JJ says with a sly smile. “Unless you count pestering you as ‘better’,”

You groan, dragging a hand over your face. “There’s nothing going on. Drop it.”

“Fine,” Morgan says, though the mischievous glint in his eyes tells you he’s anything but convinced. “But if you change your mind, let us know. We’ve got bets going,”

“You what?”

But before you can unleash your full indignation, the door opens again, and Spencer steps back in, a bottle of water in his hand. He looks between you and the team, his brow furrowing slightly. “Did I miss something?”

“Nothing important,” you say quickly, shooting a warning glare at the others.

Morgan grins but says nothing, and for once, you’re grateful. Spencer hands you the water, his expression softening. “How are you feeling now?”

“Tired,” you admit, taking the bottle. “And ready to get out of here.”

“I’ll talk to the doctors,” he offers. “See if they can expedite things,”

The warmth in his voice makes your chest tighten, and you look away, focusing on twisting the cap off the bottle.

The team watches the exchange with barely concealed amusement, but thankfully, they choose to keep their commentary to themselves. For now.

[magical-reid]

A Fine Mess

Pairing: 40s!Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 1.1 K

Prompt: 5: “Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we’re dating?” 

Summary: In 1943 Brooklyn, you’ve been friends with Bucky Barnes for as long as you can remember. When he interferes with your date, you’re determined to confront him—but the truth has a way of coming out in the most unexpected moments.

The night was one of those perfect Brooklyn summer evenings, the air warm but not stifling, carrying the faint scent of street vendor hot dogs and fresh-cut flowers from the bodega down the block. You adjusted the hem of your dress for the fifth time, staring down the street where Eddie Johnston had just disappeared, looking half-apologetic and fully confused.

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

“Did you just tell the person I was gonna go out with that we’re dating?”

Your voice cut through the quiet hum of the evening, sharp and incredulous, as you turned to face the culprit leaning against the stoop railing with all the smugness of a man who thought he could charm his way out of anything.

Bucky grinned like the cat that got the cream, arms folded and his suspenders hanging loose over his broad shoulders. “I mean… yeah. Technically, I might’ve said somethin’ like that.”

“Technically?” you snapped, climbing the steps to meet him face-to-face. “Bucky!”

“What?” He held up his hands in mock innocence, though his grin never faltered. “The guy didn’t seem like much fun anyway. Didn’t even laugh when I told him that joke about the two pigeons and the bread cart.”

Your mouth fell open. “You… you told him a joke before you lied to him about us?”

Bucky shrugged, his dark hair falling boyishly across his forehead. “Wanted to test his sense of humor. It’s important to you, isn’t it? A guy who can make you laugh?”

“Oh, so now you’re vetting my dates?” You jabbed a finger into his chest, ignoring the faint warmth that spread through your hand when you made contact. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Thank you,” he said smoothly, like you’d just paid him a compliment.

“That wasn’t a—” You groaned, dragging your hand down your face. “Bucky, you can’t just go around scaring off guys like this! Eddie was nice, okay? He was polite, he was kind, and he didn’t deserve whatever you said to him!”

Bucky’s smirk faltered just slightly, his gaze softening. “He didn’t deserve it, huh?”

“No, he didn’t,” you said firmly.

He tilted his head, studying you for a moment before asking, “So, what’d you like about him?”

“What does that matter?” you huffed.

“It matters,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse stutter. “Because if you liked him so much, why’d you let me talk him into leavin’?”

Your breath hitched, but you quickly crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “I didn’t let you do anything, Barnes. You ambushed him. You didn’t give me a choice.”

“Maybe.” He took a step closer, his shoes scuffing softly against the stoop. “Or maybe you didn’t stop me because deep down, you didn’t really wanna go out with him.”

Your heart skipped, the warmth of his words sinking in before you could shove them away. “That’s ridiculous,” you said weakly.

“Is it?” His eyes searched yours, and for once, there was no teasing, no smirk—just Bucky, stripped of his bravado. “C’mon, doll. You know me better than that. You know us better than that.”

His words hit harder than they should have, the weight of them settling in your chest. For years, you’d told yourself that Bucky was just your best friend, the boy who walked you home and shared his sandwiches and made you laugh when the world felt like too much. But now, with the way he was looking at you, it felt like the truth had been waiting just beneath the surface all along.

You shook your head, trying to gather your thoughts. “You—you don’t get to do this,” you said quietly. “You don’t get to swoop in and mess everything up just because you’re—”

“Because I’m what?” he asked, his voice soft and insistent.

“Because you’re scared to lose me,” you finished, meeting his gaze.

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the faint hum of a distant radio playing a swing tune. Bucky’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he might brush it off with one of his usual quips. But then he exhaled, his shoulders slumping just slightly.

“You’re right,” he said. “I am scared. I’ve been scared for a long time.”

Your heart ached at the quiet vulnerability in his voice, and before you could stop yourself, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his arm. “Bucky…”

He looked at you then, his blue eyes impossibly soft. “The thought of you with someone else—of you fallin’ for someone who ain’t me—it drives me crazy, doll. And I know I screwed this up, and I know you’re mad at me, but if there’s even a chance that you might…”

He trailed off, his words hanging in the air like a wish.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. Then, slowly, you stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth of him, and reached up to rest a hand against his cheek. His breath hitched at the touch, his lashes fluttering as he leaned into it.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Barnes,” you murmured, a small smile tugging at your lips.

His grin returned, bright and boyish, and he let out a soft laugh. “So, that a yes?”

“Don’t push it,” you said, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you.

But when his hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, you didn’t resist. And when his lips finally met yours, soft and warm and everything you’d been too afraid to admit you wanted, it felt like the world had finally snapped into place.

The kiss lingered, sweet and unhurried, the faint sound of the radio mixing with the rhythm of your heart. When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s forehead rested against yours, his smile so wide it made your chest ache in the best way.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice teasing again, “if I knew it’d feel this good, I’d have scared off Eddie a lot sooner.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re mine,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice making your knees weak.

“Yeah,” you whispered, your smile matching his. “I guess I am.”

And for the first time, it felt exactly right.

[blackmissfrizzle]

Dracarys

Pairings: Dragon Shifter!Terry Richmond x black!reader

Summary: The reader just wants to be a dragon rider for a bit and Terry is not up for it.

Warnings: None really. This might be the most PG thing I've written. Its fluff and right now the reader and Terry are not in a relationship, just friends.

A/N: This is part of a series of one-shots, rather than a linear series. Some fics will be multiple parts and some will not. This one might have a part 2.

Check out my old ass work here -> My Masterlist

“No, absolutely not.”

“Why not?”

“Because I respect myself.”

“I respect you too.”

“Not if you’re asking me to do that.”

“Don’t you love me? Your bestest friend in the whole wide world.”

“Bestest is not a word.”

Terry Richmond was absolutely infuriating. First, he wouldn’t let you ride him and scream dracarys and now he’s correcting your grammar. This is what you get for being friends with an old ass dragon shifter. Where was the YN dragons at?

“Shut the fuck up, Terry.” You stomped behind him, not catching the little smirk that graced his face.

“Oooh, such unladylike language. You know what your mama would do if she caught you cussing like that.”

“Good thing, my mama ain’t here!” How did you, the kinda silly, bend a couple of rules kind of girl end with the strait-laced, strict boy best friend? Probably had to do with him being a couple of centuries old. He must’ve been really lonely. Now he was never getting rid of you.

It took a slow jog for you to catch up to him and smack him behind his head. Terry whipped his head towards you and instead of those stormy green eyes you were met by black slits. “That stopped scaring me months ago. Try something new.” You waved him off, unaffected by his reptilian eyes.

Terry grunted and kept walking. “Why is this so important to you?”

“Because it would be cool, and I can be like Danerys or Rhaynera. But the black version of them.”

The only change in his face was a slightly raised eyebrow. If you didn’t know Terry well, you wouldn’t be able to decipher his expression. Right now, this was, ‘I’m gonna correct her ass’ face. “Isn’t there a couple of black Targaryrens in the show?”

You jumped up and down in his face. “I knew you liked watching House of the Dragon! Yeah, they’re from Corlys’ line.”

“The old dread head that never listens to  his snow bunny?”

“THE QUEEN THAT NEVER WAS! RIP to a real one. Nigga, you really do be paying attention.” You were tickled pink. Every Sunday night when you drugged Terry to watch HOTD, the man always acted like he had something better to do.

A minute quirk of his mouth let you know he was amused and not really annoyed with you. “It’s one of the more accurate depictions of dragons, Personality wise at least.” The reactions and commentary of Seasmoke toying with that knight was the best. Terry did have to agree that dragons and cats has similar temperament to a degree,

“I thought of you more like Smaug, greedy and grumpy.”

The low rumble let you know to get your knees to your chest or duck. More than on one occasion, Terry blew fire in your direction. He literally lit a fire under your ass. “Okay, maybe not Smaug. Maybe more like Toothless.” You couldn’t help yourself and egged him on.

“A cartoon dragon?!” He roared.

A huge grin appeared as you ducked under the stream of fire. Haha! A reaction, finally!

“Now, I’m never letting you ride me.” He crossed his arms, making his muscles just *pop*.  God, dragon God, whatever higher power really took their time with this man. What a shame he wasn’t interested. The man or dragon was searching for his mate and that was not you.

“Your loss, big boy.” You patted his chest. “I could’ve rocked your world!” You whined your hips to the music in your head.

A charge of heart and maybe head (lower head), made Terry give in. “Fine,” He sighed, shifting into his dragon. The North Carolian mountains provided the perfect cover. He could cruise the sky without being detected. Also, if needed he possessed the ability to become invisible. A gift from helping a witch long ago.

Giggles and a huge smile consumed you. “I knew you couldn’t tell me no. Now don’t be going fast or trying to throw me off. I know how you like to play too much.” You kissed a scale on his neck.

Of course, he couldn’t tell you no. You were his mate after all and he would do anything to make you happy, even if he felt like a fool.

[measuredingold]

my soul is useless without you

author's note: part two to i'd walk through hell for you is finally here ! i'm not sure if i want to do a third part, but we’ll see lol but i'm currently working on something for folio 👀 as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated ! also, if yall have any requests, send them my way :) i'm in the mood to write but inspiration is running thin lol

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.5k

cross posted on ao3 / part one

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, Noah Sebastian Is Bad At Feelings But A Good Friend, reader is going through it, anxiety, hints/mentions of depression, noah is just a good guy and cares about reader a lot ( more than he realizes ), friends to lovers pining lol, 18+ minors do not interact

It's when Jolly asks Noah in-between takes if he'd heard from you recently that the anxiety finally settles in.

Because he doesn't know the last time he's heard from you. Which isn't normal.

He's a bad texter, notorious for looking at messages and making a note to reply to them later or replying in his mind, but he always makes sure to reply to you whenever the two of you aren't together. It's just always been a thing, to always have some form of communication with you when he wasn't over at yours or if you weren't at his, so it panics him when he can't remember the last time he'd spoken to you.

He goes through your messages and finds that it wasn't him this time who didn't respond, but instead it was you. Relief washes over him briefly, the guilt of forgetting to respond to his best friend vanishing, but then that anxiety comes back full force. 

You didn't respond.

You always responded.

He sends off a quick message to you, apologizing for being in studio mode and not leaving the house and asks if you're alright. He waits. They go through another take, he somehow doesn't fuck it up even though his mind isn't all the way there. You still haven't responded by the fifth take and that's when he starts to feel sick, stomach twisting with the worry of what could be wrong. 

He tries to think back to if you've ever gone this long without speaking and he can't think of a time when that has happened. 

"Earth to Noah." Jolly's voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

"Oh. Uh, sorry." 

"All good, man." His bandmate eyes him for a second before his eyes flicker towards his phone. "She respond?"

"Um. No." His brows furrowed as he stared at his phone, the black screen mocking him. "Kind of worried."

"Yeah... I am, too." Jolly murmurs. He clicks around on the screen a few times before twisting his chair around to fully face Noah, arms crossing over his chest. "You should go over there. Check and make sure she's alright."

Noah raises a brow at him. "We're in the middle of recording?"

"And?" Jolly shrugs, waving him off. "We got a lot done today, we can wrap it up. Something's obviously wrong and she might need you. That's more important than some song."

He blinks at his friend, letting his words settle in. Jolly's right, he thinks. You are more important than whatever song they're working on. That confirmation makes him feel funny, something tightening beneath his chest but he ignores it, nodding slowly. 

"Okay. You wanna come?"

Jolly shakes his head. "Nah. The both of us might be overwhelming. If you do need me then call, if not..." He shrugs again before lifting himself up out of his chair, groaning softly to himself, "...might be best for just you to go. She'd probably feel better if it's just you, anyways. You know how she is."

Noah isn't quite sure what he means, but nods along anyways. He checks his phone again and still no text, but he notices that you read the message. He should feel relieved at the sign of life but it only makes his anxiety worse, stomach twisting violently. 

"Okay. I'll text you when I get there." 

He's practically running out of the studio after that, the only thing on his mind was you. He needed to make sure you were okay. Deep down he knew that if this was him, you would've already been here, and he feels guilty all over again. He should've paid more attention, shouldn't have let this slip his mind so easily. He thinks back to your last messages together and how you were talking about your work day, overwhelmed and quite frankly, upset about it all. He should've paid closer attention.

He makes it to yours in record time, legs moving him to the door before he can even think about it. He sends up a quiet prayer to the universe that you had given him an extra key months ago and uses it to unlock the door, slowly pushing it open.

He calls out your name, but no answer.

His eyes sweep over your apartment as he enters, scanning the open space. Your kitchen looked untouched, minus the few dirty dishes that were in your sink. A few boxes of Chinese take-out and some bottles of water. He feels almost relieved. You'd been eating and as far as he can tell you'd been keeping yourself somewhat hydrated, so that was a plus. He knows how bad you can be when you get into this headspace - brain fog, forgetting to do basic things like eating and drinking water. But this... this is a step in the right direction.

His eyes move towards the living room and it's just about the same. A pile of blankets lay together at one end of the couch, pillows scattered along the length of the cushions. You'd been there quite a bit, he can tell, but other than that nothing was too bad.

Noah feels like he can breathe for just a second, eyes going straight to the cracked open door to your bedroom. He hears the faint hum of your television and hears the muffled voice of your favorite characters in your favorite comfort show. His chest tightens. You only ever watch it when things get bad inside your head, when things start to become too overwhelming and you need to cling onto something that you know. Something that won't throw any surprises at you and make things worse. 

He makes his way towards your room, ready to call out your name again as he pushes open your door but stops halfway. You're curled up in your bed, covered in a pile of blankets. He steps closer to get a better look at you and he doesn't think he's ever seen you look so peaceful. Lashes against the tops of your cheeks, lips parted. The crease between your brows is relaxed, which never happens. 

Noah takes a deep breath.

You're alright. He can see that you're safe and sound, at least for now, and that's enough for him. He shuts your door behind him and makes his way back into the main room, taking his shoes off by the door. He takes another deep breath to center himself as he looks around your space, hand finding its way to his hair. 

He decides he'll clean up your kitchen and living room. It isn't too bad, and it won't take him too long. He also just... doesn't want to leave yet. He'll wait until you wake up. Make you talk to him, ask what’s up. Probably make you eat something. Then he'll head home. 

Sounds like a good plan to him.

Even though your door is shut he still tries to be quiet, making sure to carefully wash and put away your dishes without making too much of a fuss. After the dishes, he throws away all the take-out boxes and water bottles. He even makes a note to take the trash out for you when he's all done, because he knows you would've done it for him. 

The constant reminder of you and knowing that you'd do something like this for him, and have, is the motivation he needs to continue. It makes him feel warm all over and he thinks how lucky he is to have someone like you as his best friend.

And he definitely ignores the bitter taste in his mouth at the word best friend. 

It's maybe an hour after he's finished, curled up on your couch that now has its pillows in place, and the pile of blankets are neatly folded and put away, that you finally emerge from your room. You rub the sleep out of your eyes, not noticing him on the couch at first, but when you do you make a noise of surprise that has Noah laughing.

"Hey."

He notices the slight flush of your cheeks but ignores it. "Hi?"

"I uh," He scratches the back of his neck, sending you a sheepish smile. "Hadn't talked to you in a few days. Got worried. So did Jolly. Told me to come over. Check on you. You were sleeping so I just," He throws his arms around, gesturing to the space around him, "cleaned up a little? Figured you would appreciate a clean house when you woke up so..." 

He's talking too much, he knows it, but he can't seem to stop the word vomit from coming out. Noah knows you wouldn't mind, but he was nervous, especially because all you do is stare at him without saying a word. Stare and stare and stare until you sniff, brows furrowing.

"...Thanks."

You're unusually quiet and it makes his stomach turn again. You sniff again and Noah swears you look like you're on the verge of tears, and he sits up on the couch. He watches you closely as you wring your hands together in front of you, mouth opening and closing as if you want to say something. You don't, and Noah catches the exact moment when your bottom lip trembles, and he's moving before he can even think about it.

"Hey. It's okay. You’re okay."

He tries to keep his voice soft and free of any panic, but his heart is beating so rapidly against his chest he swears you can hear it. You sniff again, head shaking as your lip continues to tremble and he does the only thing he can think of. He pulls you into his arms and presses you into his chest. You don't move for a second, but eventually your arms circle around his waist. You squeeze, tight, but he doesn't mind. He just squeezes you back. 

Your body begins to shake as the cries start to rack through you, the sound muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Noah swallows down the lump that was beginning to form, cheek resting on the top of your head. He's always hated when you cry. He himself wasn’t one for much display of emotions, but when it came to the people he cared about, he hated seeing them anything but happy. 

Especially you.

He's seen you cry a few times. Well, more than a few times. Sometimes it was over nothing, and then sometimes it was over an incredibly cute dog you'd seen scrolling on Twitter. He didn't mind those, but when it was over something serious, he fucking hated that. He never wanted you to be anything but happy, and whenever you weren’t, it’s like a piece of him breaks. 

“What’s wrong?” He whispers into your hair, trying to pull you even closer to him.

“Everything.” You eventually mumble against his chest, sucking in a deep breath as you try to control your tears. “Fucking everything is wrong.” 

He fucking hates the way that answer makes him feel. His chest feels like it's on fire, and he swears his heart just fucking broke at how sad you sounded, voice muffled by his shirt. He squeezes you to his chest again.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

He wants you to talk about it, to tell him what's wrong so he can make it better. Noah knows it'll probably be damn near impossible to even do that, but god, he'd try absolutely anything to make your tears stop. You take a long moment to respond, trying to control your breathing, before you eventually shake your head against his chest.

"Not right now." 

"Okay.” He mumbles, raising a hand to smooth down your hair. “That's okay, we don't have to."

"Thank you."

You stay like that for a moment, in the middle of your living room. Noah doesn't plan on letting go any time soon, thinking for a split second that he wished he could keep you in his arms forever. If you were there, he'd always know if you were okay. The thought fades before he could think too hard about it when you finally pull away from him, and Noah catches sight of your slight red and blotchy face. He frowns.

He doesn't remember the last time he's ever seen you so sad. So defeated. Whatever was going on really pained you, and he wishes you'd just tell him so he can fix it. Another passing, fleeting thought, but he thinks he'd do just about anything right now to see you smile again. 

"Have you eaten?" He breaks the silence between the two of you, not waiting to hear whatever you were planning on saying.

You blink up at him. "Um... no. Not since this morning. Had some fruit and coffee." 

"I figured." He guides you towards the couch, practically pushing you onto it. You snort when he grabs a throw blanket and dumps it onto you. "Pick something to watch." 

It's not a question, but more of a command, and Noah ignores the way his chest flutters at the small smile you give him. He turned away from you, pushing whatever feeling was brewing inside of him so far down and got his brain to focus. Food. You need food. To be honest, so does he. He’d been so worried about you for the last few hours that he didn’t even think of getting something to eat. 

It takes him a few minutes of rummaging around your kitchen to settle on making something easy - instant ramen. He’s surprised you hadn't eaten it all in the week you’ve been off-grid, but thankful nonetheless. Noah's way too impatient to wait any longer to actually cook something, especially knowing you hadn't eaten anything since this morning. Every so often he looked over his shoulder to watch you, wishing you'd say something, but would find you either staring blankly at the television or your phone.

A bitter taste settles in the back of his throat every time he turns back around to the stove. He hated this, and he fucking hated that he couldn't do a goddamn thing about it.

He brings your bowl to you once he's finished, already making a mental note to clean up the mess he had made while cooking. You blink up at him and reach for it, giving him a quiet, "Thank you."

Noah doesn't verbally say anything, just hums out a response as he ventures back into the kitchen to grab you something to drink. When he comes back he notices you had slowly begun to eat, and he feels his shoulders finally relax. Just knowing you ate something eases him, the tension in his body leaving him completely. You're already reaching out for the glass of water in his hand that he happily hands off to you, giving you a gentle smile.

"Need anything else?"

You shake your head, peering up at him. "No. Just want you to come sit with me." 

That same fluttery feeling beneath his chest returns and he wishes he could ignore it again, but it doesn't go away. No, it stays perched underneath his chest, as if it's decided that it's making a home there and never leaving. He doesn't say anything, just nods at your request before grabbing his own bowl and a Pepsi you had in the fridge before making his way back to you.

You wait until he's settled on the couch to scoot closer to him, legs pressed flushed together. You're already halfway through your ramen and for a split second he forgets that weird feeling in his chest, instead focusing on the intense pride filling him. He was able to get you to eat, he was able to help out in some way. Knowing you were alright for the most part and it was from his doing made him feel good.

The both of you eat in silence as whatever show you decided to put on plays in the background. He’s just now realized it was The Office, and he huffs out a small laugh at something Michael Scott said. Another one of your comfort shows, something easy. 

It isn't until you both are finished with your food and Noah's back in the kitchen cleaning up that you finally speak. He doesn't hear you come up behind him, focused on washing the dishes and making sure everything's clean and good to go, so he can't help but jump when he feels your arms slip around his waist and squeeze.

"Shit." He swears, followed by a breathy chuckle. "You scared me."

You don't say anything to that, just squeeze him harder and he feels you press your face against his back. Then ever so softly, he picks up the faintest, "Thank you," muffled against his back. His face flushes, eyes casting down to the soapy water his hands were currently submerged in. He's glad you can't see the blush on his cheeks, and he fucking hopes you can't hear the way his heart is pounding beneath his chest. Can probably feel it, though, and that makes his face burn even more. 

"For what?" He manages to mumble out, resuming his efforts. Your arms squeeze his waist again.

"For being here." You sound so small. "You don't have to be, but you are, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"You'd do it for me." His response comes easily, voice nonchalant because it's true. He knows you'd do the same for him, and the thought has his stomach flipping every which way. "And have done it for me. It's the least I can do."

You're silent after that but don't part from him, and Noah can't help the smile that spreads across his lips at the feeling of you rubbing your face against him. It makes him feel warm all over, and that damned fluttery feeling in his chest is back yet again. You stay like that until he's finished with the dishes, moving with him as he shuffles to the side to dry them off. You don't pick your head up even when he manages to turn in your arms, finally facing you. 

Noah's arms wrap around you, pulling you closer to him and now you can rub your face against his chest. He laughs softly, pressing his cheek against the top of your head.

"Still don't wanna talk about it?" He knows he's pressing but he can't help it, a part of him still needs to know what's wrong and how he can fix this for you.

You shake your head. "Not yet. Tomorrow, okay? I just... don't wanna think about it tonight."

"Okay." He thinks he can handle that. 

"Thank you." You say again and finally lift your head up from his chest, blinking up at him. There's still a sadness there, roaming around behind your eyes, but not as prevalent as it was earlier. He’s at least done something right. "I'm really fucking lucky to have you, you know that, right?"

The way you're looking up at him is overwhelming, Noah's throat tightening at the softness surrounding your tired eyes. You smile at him and this time it reaches your gaze, not faked but real, and his heart slams against his chest. A thought passes his mind again, something he hasn't thought of in years, and he pushes it back with a hard swallow.

"You're just saying that because you didn't have to do the dishes."

You roll your eyes but that smile never drops from your lips, and Noah thinks he'd like to keep you smiling like that for the rest of his life. 

"Shut up. I'm being serious." You're giggling now, eyes crinkling and he catches a glimpse of the real you for the first time in hours - probably days, weeks even. 

"So am I." Noah yelps when you pinch his side, your laughter growing louder. "Hey!"

"I'm trying to be nice here, asshole. You can at least try, too."

He softens at that, eyes meeting yours. He's well aware his face is on fire right now, cheeks pink.

"You already know I'm lucky to have you. Didn't realize I had to say it."

Even if he doesn't say it often, he is very lucky. So incredibly lucky to have you in his life, for sticking by him and for understanding him. For always being patient with him. Jolly reminds him occasionally how lucky he is to have you, how all of them are lucky to have someone like you in their lives. He doesn't know what the fuck he or anyone did to be so deserving of you, but dammit, he's fucking thankful for it everyday. 

You don't say anything, just continue to beam up at him and Noah can't seem to stop himself, tilting his head down to brush his lips against your forehead. He feels you press further into his chest, if it was even possible, and practically melt in his arms. 

He wishes he could keep you here forever, tucked away in his arms. He thinks there isn't much he wouldn't do to keep you safe, to make sure you were okay, and that thought alone scares him. He'd never admit it, at least not out loud, and he tucks that thought away for another time. Or to possibly be never thought of again, he doesn't know. He doesn't really care.

No, all he cares about right now is that you're okay, at least for now, and that you're nestled against his chest like it's the only place you want to be. 

And that's enough for him. 

[yurozo]

holidays headcanons (resident evil)

┌─── ∘°❉°∘ ───┐ characters: chris, leon, jill, claire, rebecca, carlos, luis, ada, wesker warnings: mentions of alcohol, some swearing.

a/n: i know this is late but all the recent love for the restaurant au inspired me!! check that one out here! love u pookies and i hope you had a great holidays <3 if you want me to cover anyone else, or have any other suggestions for au's please let me know! └─── °∘❉∘° ───┘

chris redfield:

this man comes for one reason and one reason alone: the food. you best believe chris redfield is grabbing two plates piled sky-high and scarfing it down before the rest have even served themselves. because of a particular incident involving leon and a nerf gun, chris has been banished to the kids table for the foreseeable future. he gets to sit there with (baby) sherry in a shitty little plastic barbie chair that claire bought off amazon-- the legs are bowing under his weight and are clearly destined to snap during some point in the night. as for the games, chris takes no part in it. why? he's stone cold passed out in the lazyboy. i'm talking full on snoring, scratching at his chest, mouth open, and drooling asleep. nothing is waking that man up from his food coma, other than literally firing a gun three inches away from his ears.

as for you, chris softens a little bit. he'll reluctantly indulge whatever you want to do, even if he's grumbling about it a little the whole time. this man is a practical gift giver, unless claire gets involved and gets you something indulgent in chris' name. if it were up to chris alone, he's replacing whatever you have that's worn down or unusable. he just wants to see you comfortable and stress-free, and he really doesn't have the mind for other things.

leon kennedy:

respectfully, he's the typical white dad of the group. he eats a good amount of mashed potatoes and roast beef, downs a couple whiskeys, and he's out for the count. there's been a couple occasions that he's gotten a little too rowdy, and relentlessly barraged the dinner table with whatever one-liners or borderline traumatic stories that come to his mind. he's fine, he swears, it really was funny that time he almost got blown up.

god forbid sherry grows up and starts bringing partners around the place, leon takes it upon themselves to act like her personal bodyguard. he'll sit in an armchair and stare daggers at them every time they so much as touch her, and it takes a while for him to warm up to them. for the games, do NOT ask that man to play charades. honestly, it will just be embarrassing for the both of you.

leon really does try his best when it comes to you. his gifts are usually something you eyed while out with him somewhere, which he very sneakily bought while you weren't looking. however, he's downright terrible at hiding it for you if he buys it ahead of time. you have to just act surprised and loving about the whole thing, and leon's putty in your hands. there's always a hand around your waist when you're in the vicinity, and leon loves to brag about your title in casual conversations. (eg. "yeah, my wife/husband is a pretty good cook. it's no big deal")

jill valentine:

jill's been banned from helping in the kitchen for five years. it's not her fault, honestly, she got a little too distracted sharing war stories with the others that she forgot the yorkshires were still in the oven. she'll happily eat everything though, or bring a store-bought dessert if need be. every single year, she takes photos of chris passed out in the armchair until she can make a photo album to gift him. there's a framed photo of chris mid-fall after the barbie chair finally gave way that's hanging above the fireplace, courtesy of her. also likes to take lil sips of leons whiskey when he's not looking since he always brings the good stuff.

she claims that she doesn't get into the games, but she gets super intense about charades to the point that everyone's reluctant to team up with her. she's shouting answers like there's a ticking bomb that will go off when the time runs out, and she'll scold you if she thinks your acting performance wasn't oscar worthy. she's flinging around a beer can during the whole thing and nearly soaking everyone in the vicinity.

when you start coming around for the holidays, jill visibly relaxes. she can let a lot of her guard down, and everyone likes to give her shit about how lovesick and happy she becomes. she's also a victim of the practical gift giving trait, but occasionally she likes to buy you something just because she thinks you would look nice in it. but there's always an extra gift at home that she won't let you open in front of the others, she has to maintain some sort of dignity.

claire redfield:

her and rebecca are the only reasons this tradition goes on for as long as it does. rebecca does most of the logistics, claire is the one who keeps that ship running while it's happening. the two of them are such a scary pair when they want shit done, that everyone else just has to follow along. claire is the one that banished chris to the kids table, but still lingers around to keep an eye on sherry and make sure she's eating enough. when sherry's old enough to bring partners around, she's the welcoming one, and will secretly jab leon in the ribs whenever he starts acting up.

claire likes to experiment with the games every single year, usually after incidents or fights break out. white elephant got banned after four different people just bought gift cards to the gun store (im assuming this exists there, im canadian). she's shaking the box of names aggressively at anyone who tries to get away, and will tip chris right out of that damn chair. they rarely get to be together with all the missions, so help her god they're going to enjoy it.

you're the first person claire actually brings around. sure, she's had relationships, but bringing you around to family christmas is a big deal. and don't worry, everyone else will tell you just how much of a big deal it is. you're the first person she tells everything too, and on the drive there, she's giving you a full run down on what she thinks of everyone (claire has very strong opinions). for gifts, she loves to buy you things. her favourite gifts are outfits either you can wear on her motorcycle, or matching clothes she painted herself.

rebecca chambers:

the holidays are a stressful time for her. not only does she have to cook for the most ravenous group of people that definitely do not cook for themselves enough, but she has to make sure they don't kill each other during it. despite that, dinner is always amazing, and the desserts are just to die for. she takes a special pride in her desserts, and if a couple extra supplements sneak themselves into the dinner, she definitely does not know anything about that. one of the few things that gets her through the holidays is the extra sweet hot chocolate and egg nog concoction that she makes for herself. leon tried it one time by accident and nearly gagged at just how sweet it was.

rebecca is very into the games and gifts section. it's the one time she gets to sit down and relax a little bit, and she does love how intense everyone gets about the whole thing. she's just happy that everyone can get together, and maybe relax after everything that's happened. despite her enthusiasm and smarts, she is downright terrible at charades. her answers are always way too complex for the minute they have to guess whatever she's miming. how the hell is anyone supposed to guess t-011 from hand gestures?

rebecca is by far the best gift giver out of the bunch. whatever she buys you is well-thought out, personal, and helpful. she likes to have you hang around the kitchen while she cooks, and will always feed you little spoonfuls under the guise of taste-testing. really, she just wants to make sure you eat, especially before chris can get his grubby little hands on the entrees.

luis sera:

leon invited him a total of one time, and luis had just become a permanent fixture of the whole thing. you best believe luis is bringing a karaoke machine and performing bad renditions of holiday music complete with an improvised choreography. he tried to bring leon into it one time, and nearly got roundhoused so hard that rebecca had to take them both out like misbehaving dogs. despite that, he always brings around a home-cooked entree to dinner, which rebecca appreciated greatly. luis also has the tendency to spin great tales about what he did during the year, which are definitely all lies.

in part two of the party, luis likes to be a little tipsy for the whole thing. who can blame him, he likes a party. just don't get him talking about his work, he'll talk about it for hours with increasingly complicated language that only rebecca can understand. like her too, he also gets really into the games section. luis is mentally keeping track of the stores, and will argue with anyone that tries to get the one up on him. i mean, he really deserved the point on the last one, so what if he buffs the numbers a little?

luis love to brag about you to all the others, you're his lovely partner and somehow agreed to date him, how could he not? his gifts for you are always a little extravagant, because he wants everyone else to know just what a good boyfriend he is. you're also the reason why he got chewed out over pda during the holidays. luis is just not the kind of man that can keep his hands off you, it's the season of romance.

carlos oliveira:

he's the one person who rebecca allows in the kitchen. carlos is always willing to help, and he'll even do it with a cheesy little apron on. it just makes his ass look nice, and these people deserve a treat on the holidays. god forbid carlos, leon, and jill are sitting together for dinner. they're throwing around the worst jokes known to man, and cackling loudly the whole time, especially if they're a couple beers deep. he's used to a big family, so this kind of gathering is right in his element. he makes sure there's enough food and drink for everyone, even if he's next to chris in eating it all.

another victim of getting too into the games. he likes to have fun and joke around, so he's definitely energetic, but doesn't take it too seriously. carlos is ultimately there to have a good time, and if a pretty woman is telling him to play, he's definitely not going to say no. he's relaxing back in his chair, beer in hand, yelling out suggestions and laughing loudly.

for you, he's just happy to bring you around and show you a good time. you don't have to worry about a damn thing during the holidays, carlos is doing everything so you can just lay back and enjoy the festivities. your drink is empty? carlos is already up and heading to the fridge. you want more dessert? there's another plate already in your hands.

ada wong:

no one really knows the reason she's here. people suspect she found out the location through her own means and just started showing up. or that wesker invited her for insurance reasons. she'll offer to help in the kitchen, and they always turn her down because she's definitely overdressed and they don't want to risk her getting dirty. during the dinner, she just like to witness the inevitable trash fire, or chatting quietly with luis about whatever work drama happening with him.

she's not playing any games. don't ask her. ada will give you a mean glare until you leave her alone. she wants to sit there and watch the wreckage and drink her little drink, she is not playing charades even if there's a gun to her head. get her to gossip though? she will happily engage in telling you dirty secrets about everyone else ( no one can figure out how the hell she knows these things).

ada's rigging the whole thing so you win. she wants to see you happy, and you'll be even happier when you see what she's got you. again, there's no way to tell exactly how she knows what you wanted, but you can be sure you're getting it. and it's in a pretty box, carefully put together and wrapped with a red bow. there's also a mistletoe in her pocket, for when she can finally get you alone.

albert wesker:

no one knows who invited him. no one knows where he is the whole time (he's in the bedroom, pointedly avoiding everyone else). he'll come down to dinner, eat his food, say nothing, and go back upstairs. he's also not going to engage in any sort of ugly sweater tradition, he's wearing all black, and god help anyone who tries to get him to wear anything else. wesker will speak up about his open disdain for chris, but it's quickly shut down by rebecca before he can start a fight.

he doesn't really come around all that often. he prefers to do his work, have his own celebration, and pretend all these people don't exist. after certain events, he becomes a bit of an unspoken topic amongst everyone else-- just a person that used to come around thats' been replaced by their new family.

the only way he'll do anything for the holidays is if you're there. yes, he's going to complain and say he has better things to do, and he would much rather have your own private celebration, but he'll reluctantly do it if you bother him enough. he's giving you his present in private and away from prying eyes, because that relationship is just between you two, not these other people unworthy of even looking at you. whatever you tell him you want, he'll buy. money's no object for him, and anything that will make you happy while he works on other things.

[ethereal555]

FUCK BOY PT.1

player!jude x stonerblackfem!reader

You laugh, not quite believing your ears, “What?'

'Please don't make me say it again. Honestly baby, I'll never forgive myself'.

You fixate on him. The man you loved, gave your body to and had the lowest of lows with has done the one thing he promised never to do.

He betrayed you.

You get off of the couch, as if it’d become hot lava. You feel your blood vigorously pumping through your veins, heating up your cheeks and ears. Like church bells had just gone off, your ears were ringing.

“Get out my flat - now” you forced out shakily, you felt as if your throat was closing in. Your chest raising rapidly.

He blinks, as if I was speaking a foregin language.

'No, sit down' he pleads reaching for my hand. You swat his hand off of you, taking a huge step away from him.

“Jude please, I don’t want you to touch me. How dare you think you can even come into my home right after disrepecting me? Do you think I'm a joke?” you pant

'I'm not going to even ask you why you did it? She's clearly who you wanted all along. The world's right; you only got with a black girl to make your Mum feel better. I swear I should have listenied when they called you a man!fucking!whore”.

'I've wasted my time with you, time I'll never get back'! I realise in hysterics. You feel like someone has hit a wong in your ear, its an intense feeling you feel in your head. You cover your ears to silence your thoughts that were going off on autopilot.

You pace around going on a tangent, finding all the offesive words in the dictiionary to throw at him. You search to find any small inanimate objects to throw at him, a way to inflict the hurt you felt emotionally onto him.

'Yeah, Yeah,ok' he bitterly chuckled trying to play off as unfazed, as if all the lethal words you spat had fallen upon deaf ears. His jaw was tense, it was taking everything for him not to shut you up himself, but he knew how genuinely wrong he was in this situation and how much he deserved the names so he decided against taking any action. This time.

You scower the kitchen trying to find any items that were bought for you by him. You take the Gucci scarf off of your kitchen highchair, lobbing it at him. He sat there, with the nerve to have a scowl of his face 'Take it' you yelled as you threw the cloth. 'I don't want anything of yours, you're disgusting'.

It landed on his face, and he, in an act of self -discipline didn't react, folded it up placing next to him on your couch, licking his lips. I must admit it must've taken a lot for him to not retaliate, the Jude last year was another story.

'This too’', you removed the burgundy coloured Van Cleef bracelet he had gifted you for your birthday back in May, aiming it for his face. The athletic boy, with instincts like a cat, caught this too, placing it untop of the scarf next to him. His left leg was shaking with irritation. A scowl on his face. His teeth tucked into his plump bottom lip as he sat back cross armed on the couch, pissed.

“You're not fucking intimidating me, not in my own house. Good try. GET the fuck OUT JUDE!”

I was seeing red, because he wasn't listening to me. My nose and eyes running like a water fountain. I looked a hot mess. I wipe my face with the back of my hands. Embarrassed.

To my advantage, I find my tedbaker slippers on the floor near the door. I laugh at myself picking it up with full intention to throw it -

He stand ups “Don’t you fucking dare, I swear to God Tiana act like you have some fucking sense”.

'I will do whatever the fuck I want to you. You’re not welcome here anymore, I dont want you in my house anymore. Listen to me Jude, for once... leave' I cry, shaking. “I’ve told you to leave and you’re still here”

“I can’t, I can't leave you. Why dont you listen to me for once, just once, I can explain” he fought shouting over her cries.

'Why dont you understand' i hiccup, 'i cant, i physically cant sit here, whilst you, a fucking vile the vilest man ive ever met, wants to speak, to me and justify him sleeping with someone he's lied to me about for 8 FUCKING MONTHS'

' A bitch that racially abused me, and you fucking too? You are not worth anymore of my time. Like, really Jude? Are you that fucking desperate for pussy? Are you that desperate to hurt me? For fucks sake, if you really needed to fuck someone, at least fuck someone that resemebles the woman you claim to love 'more than football' she looks nothing like me Jude' you drag..

'It didn't happen rec-' he started

You felt the waterworks again but you didnt want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. It was the fact he wasn't understanding that him explaining the details was causing you to have to envision him with another woman. Having had enough of this row, you turn around immediately going to your cabinet to get your pre rolled blunt.

'I wasn't in the right mind, I have no excuse, it was a genuine mistake. Baby, please..' he argued.

You turn on your stove, shoving your blunt into it, to light it. You sit on your counter once it finally draws and you inhale deeply, making sure to cough so it hit you harder, Cali. You weren’t in the right mental headspace to deal with this sober.

“You hear me Ti?” he begged

It was like pathetic fallacy, a dark day for you emotionally and the only things illuminating the house were the many Central London streetlights outside your grand glass windows as well as your purple led's shining from your room upstairs.

'You can check my phone, my social media DM’s, theres not one trace of a woman Tianna, because I've decided all I need you. You don't understand I cant do it without you- this thing called life, no. Hell i cant even go a day without thinking about you and the life we could have’ he confesses clapsing at his heart.

Then there's a deafening silence.

You transfix on him fresh tears still imprinted on your cheeks, as you inhale, one toke after another after another. You both hold each other’s eye contact for a split second, before you withdraw focusing on your blunt.

The boy you loved most in the world, now turned traitor, sat across from you looking helpless. The only things that can be heard in the flat were both your infrequent sniffles, your sharp inhales and distant modes of transport outside.

Emptiness.

He rubs his eyes, typical, always seeming to cry when you cried, excusing it as something he couldnt help because he loved you so much. Well if only he thought of that before he decided to fuck the bimbo.

You snigger, you’re eyes low, the weed has you feeling like you’re floating.

“Jayy” You drag, your head and body feeling extremely light

“Yeah, yes” he answers quick, attentive

“You know, it’s a true shame, for Denise. I just wonder, like, if only she knew what an absolute bitch she would have raised before having you, would she have had an a-' you giggle

' Don't finish that sentence or we'll have a problem' he growls shooting up, charging towards me.

'Get up off the counter now, Tiana. Have you lost your fucking mind?' he spat. His natural doe - shaped eyes enlarged with anger, this dark brows furrowed.

You look at him, your giggles disentergrating into the air just like your weed smoke, daring him to do what he's been doing indirecting for the past 8 months.

'Fucking dare do what, what are you going to do about it? Hm, Jude? I’m going to continue to make you feel like shit until you leave because I’ve asked you to LEAVE MY HOUSE and you're still here, so take the insult”. You take another puff of your blunt, feeling the anger rising again.

Granted, the blunt was probably making you say things you shouldn't, he deserved it.

“I could’ve hurt you, so so badly” he lets out his jaw clenched.

'I beg your pardon?, you fucking idiot what do you think I'm -“

'Shut up and let me talk, i could have kept it silent and have the whole world find out at the same time as you, but i didnt. i've flown here on Chrismas to tell you. To be here I’ve sacrificed spending time with my brother and my parents. I've literally put your feelings and wellbeing first before my families,before mine but you're too bloody dense to be objective and see things from another person's perspective'.

You drop your blunt on the counter, hopping off of it. At the same time, not caring if you blew the rest out in his face, although you knew he hated the smell.

'I don’t give a fuck about how it all unravels, or who's feeling you are putting first over others. You got your self here in the first place, you wouldnt be in this predicament if you had some sense about you; and stayed loyal to what we have built. And shit, even if you genuinely needed to fuck a girl, do better next time and fuck a woman who wont go round running your business, dumb boy. But you're too thick and pussy hungry to realise that' she seethed pushing at his chest with every last world.

'Jude, we are sooooooo done' you ridicule 'i cant actually emphasise it enough'

'We're not, technically can't be. Tiana, we havent been together since March, which is another reason I dont know why you're so angry'

You sneer, clenching your fists as your sides. Your nostrils flared, you decided against screaming or shouting; you didn't have the energy. So using up all the mature strength you could muster, you leave to go to your room. Genuine rage and shock slapped onto your facial features. You barge past him walking at high speed until he grips your wrist pulling you back to stand infront of him.

'Don't walk away from me when I''m speaking to you.' you snatch out of his harsh grasp.

You push at his chest, 'I've told you stop touching me, Jude. I'm walking away because this conversation can't be had with a 2 year old.'

'And who's the two year old?, I havent been the one throwing a fucking tantrum this whole time and gettting high thinking it’s cool, whilst an adult has been trying to have a mature conversation with you! He spits.

'A tantrum ? I have everyright to be fuming. You’re so lucky I'm high right now you should thank God because, if I was sober you know exactly what would happen' you threaten.

'Yeah I do know, because that’s the type of person you are. You’re so quick to dehumanise people',

“And rightfully so for you at least.. so... where do we go from here? Nowhere, bye. Shut the door after you'.

You push yourself off of the kitchen counter, that you were reluctantly leaning on.

'Stop fucking walking away from me. Tiana. We’re not finished. Act your fucking age', he exclaimed trapping you between himself and the counter, leaving no room for you too escape. Both his arms, decorated in bulging green veins, clenched either side of you.

He gets in my face as if you make it clear to me ‘I’m going to ask you again ok.. Why are you so fucking angry?'

'BECAUSE YOU'RE STILL FUCKING ME JUDE ME !!! WHAT DONT YOU UNDERSTAND!! you rage in this face.

You feel you're eyes watering again so you break out from his constraint and turn around to go a relight your blunt before taking another 3 tokes.

“What type of question is that-have you no emotional intelligence or sympathy?” you exhale

'Because you fly me out to Madrid to fuck and hang out. You choose to spend time with me when instead you could be with your family or friends. You come over here during you're off season to fuck me, kiss me, cuddle me, give me presents, bags and jewellery. You eat my ass, we've been fucking on my period for Gods sake - all these things have happened whilst we've been broken up. so dont - please dont try to play it like we're just sneaky links, sneaky links dont have history , sneaky links are not ex's'

'For Jobe’s birthday you flew me out, for Mark’s and Denise’s birthday you flew me out to celebrate with you and them. When you went to go check on your grandma I was there, all of this happened when we were broken up. Doesn’t this sound particularly “together” to you ?

'I explicitly rememeber telling you that if this was truly over than the fucking, and seeing each others family and all that had to stop, and then what did you do, you came to London the very next month and stayed 3 nights.'

'So excuse me for feeling cheated on, Jude’ you pant, out of breathe, you take some tissue roll from your counter top, wiping your eyes. Saying all of this makes you feel dumb, and taken advantage off.

He only looks at you, with regret, sympathy. Stillness befriended him. He turns around going to sit down.

“I wish you and Laura the best in the future.”

Jude sits down on your black fur rug, playing with his fingers, something he never did unless we was uncomfortable. His plump lips parted looking at the ground.

He clears his throat, his eyes glazed over. His tone was soft, you'd given a different persepctive he was to blind to have seen

'Love, I've tried to explain to you that there was no emotional connection there with Laura, she was something easy, she was something i used, as horrible as it sounds, to distract myself from the fact that i felt like i might lose you, the love of my life. But now that, well, we were back on track I feel the need to tell you because i don’t want anything in the way of our relationship progression. I - can assure all the while we have been sleeping with other, i swear i havent so much as touched another girl, this happened in early April before we started messing around again. When you gave me the expression it was really done. I needed to tell you about it today, because she’s been threatening to tell people and news outlets. And if she did that-“ he paused swallowing the lump in his throat.

'It would kill me Ti, you have to believe me, i don’t want to do this thing called life without, i'd rather die' he swears.

You stand there watching him, your blunt was now finished and to be honest you were so high, not even his most compassionate love poem would sober you up.

You start to clap, obnoxiously 'Weooooo, and the Oscar goes to Jude Belligoallll, wooooo', you fall into a fit of laughter.

He wasn’t amused. Not one bit. He looks directly at you, his widened eyes connecting with your red hazy ones.

You walk over to sit down infront of him on the floor. He listens attentively.

'Ok that was mean, sorry' you giggle

'Jude you can't hurt me and then apologize expecting everything to be better again, we need to - ' you hesistate trying to find the right words.

'To, level the score, surely. You play football baby, you know how it goes. We need to draw, right now its 1-0 to you. When I score, then its over right because then it'll be 1-1', you advise.

'Between me and you' I lean in closer, he stares following my lips.

'I like the look of Levi', you draw back, you lick your lips. The cotton mouth getting to you.

'I need water Jude, and you look like you've just seen a ghost. So I'll make that two waters, since you're not going to leave anytime soon right?'.

He snickers,a frown on his face when he grabs my jaw, tight.

'You're not going to do such a thing, not to me'

'So what? you can do it but I can't, boy please' you tut trying to leave from his grip.

'Sleep with him or any man for that matter and I swear I'll make you miserable' he swears

Your mouth drops, the audacity you think mentally

'Jude you're insane, clinically -'

' I mean just think of all the friends you've lost, because they were trying to fuck me, all those friends you've had to cut off are at my beck and call you know that right'

'You wouldnt dare' you snatch out of his grip on your jaw. You felt dizzy moving your head too fast, and the cali was only intensifiying both feeling of heartbreak and dizziness.

'I actually hate you Jude, oh my God, why would you say that?" you softly cried. It was such as slap in your face, espeically because those women he was mentioning were childhood bestfriends that it had taken you ages to get over, still to this day.

You stumble up, stomping into your room, slamming the door shut.

'What, are your feelings hurt baby?" he shouts after me, mockingly. His voice following me up the stairs.

---

part 2 may have smut

this was requested, a toxic jude. this page is for my girls that have been through many toxic relationships. im here to heal you LMAOO

[jjscrybaby]

A request for JJ!!

I was thinking something kinda angst. So JJ hates the reader and she hates him. They both think each other has a great life and is jealous. But maybe one day on her usual bike ride around the cut, y/n sees JJ’s dad get aggressive with him and realises how JJ’s life is hard. But she doesn’t go to help because she was scared. Feeling bad that she didn’t help she wonders around and she goes home late which results in an argument with her mom. At that time JJ was doing a delivery with Pope and hears and sees everything and when y/n is outside walking around trying to calm herself down and distract from the pain she accidentally bumps into JJ and they have a talk.

jj maybank x fem!reader | hurt & comfort | (luke maybank being an ass, reader’s mom is also an ass, overall just bad parents!)

not proofread and written at 6am so my bad if there’s any mistakes 🤗

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

One of the main differences between you and JJ were your social status’. JJ came from the Cut, he grew up catching his own food, roaming the streets at the age of seven without a care in the world, stealing just to get by. You grew up on Figure Eight, you never had to lift a finger, your parents never had to worry about where their next pay check was coming from. He was jealous.

JJ grew up with freedom, with a group of friends he called his family, he never had to worry about grades or being perfect because no one cared if he was. You grew up with snobby rich kids as the only people you could hang out with, your mom dictated everything you did down to the clothes you’d wear to the mall, you felt embarrassed to even leave the house if your hair was slightly greasy. You were jealous.

You’d known JJ Maybank since you were a kid, you went to the same Elementary school and then over the years you’d see each other at parties or at the club where he worked. There wasn’t ever something that happened that gave you both a reason to hate the other, you just did.

Something your parents were definitely not aware of was the route you’d take on your weekly bike ride. You needed an escape from the ‘perfect’ life, so at least once a week you’d take your little pink bicycle and you’d ride around the Cut. You weren’t sure what it was that drew you to it in the first place, especially after the horror stories you’d grown up hearing, but you always felt calm when you rode around with your AirPods in.

It was about six o’clock, you were supposed to be home for dinner in an hour because your father had some clients coming over and you were wanted as well. You were about to head back home when the sound of yelling caught your attention. You turned round the corner, standing still at the end of the street.

“You smell like a damn bar!” It was JJ. You didn’t know he lived here, but then again why would you? You weren’t friends. There was an older man stumbling after him, following the blonde down the porch steps.

“Ain’t that rich comin’ from you?” The man, who you assumed was non other than Luke Maybank, snorted.

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” JJ scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he turned to look at his dad.

“Means you ain’t better than me, kid. It’s in your blood, you’re a Maybank,” Luke mocked.

You could see JJ shake his head, a scowl on his face that was hiding the hurt he felt. “I’m nothin’ like you. And I never will be.”

“Say whatever you want, don’t make it true,” Luke shrugged, taking a sip from the beer that you hadn’t noticed was in his hand. “Where the fuck you goin’, anyways? Ain’t been home in weeks.”

Weeks? You had heard the stories about Luke, the robberies and the bar fights, but you didn’t think he’d treat his own son like this. He spoke to him as if he was a stranger, as if he couldn’t care less about him.

“Yeah, and I shouldn’t have bothered coming back at all,” JJ stated, turning to continue walking away. Luke grabbed his arm, yanking him back and holding him in place. “Get the fuck off me, man!”

“Gotta show some respect, Jay!” Luke yelled, making you flinch.

Why were the neighbours not coming out? Why hadn’t anyone done something about this? You felt sick, and you felt even worse when you got on your bike and rode away before you had to see how this ended.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

“You alright?” JJ hated that question, especially when he knew why it was being asked. The shiner that he sported now. Pope looked at him sympathetically, a sad smile on his face.

“I’m fine. Ready to get some good tips,” JJ shrugged, taking the grocery bags from his hands. “Who orders food at eight o’clock?”

“Rich people,” Pope muttered. “Don’t lose any of that shit.“

“Yeah, yeah.”

JJ walked to your house, he knew it was yours from the last name above the slip of paper Pope had given him. He was starting to walk up the driveway when he heard the noise coming from the open front door.

“I told you to be here by seven! It’s half past!” Your mother exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air.

“I— I got held up, I’m sorry.” He’d never heard you sound so small. Usually, when the two of you got at each other’s throats at a Kegger, you’d stand your ground without a care in the world. It was one of the only things he respected about you.

“Held up with what?” Your mom scoffed. He could see through the cracks in the bushes that she was shaking her head, looking disappointed.

“It’s just dinner, mom. I don’t need to be here,” you tried to argue.

“Well, I’ve already told the Henderson’s that you aren’t home. So, therefore, you will not be home. Don’t come back until they’re gone,” she stated.

“What? Mom. I haven’t got anywhere to go,” you exclaimed, voice wavering.

The door closed in your face and you let out a shaky sigh. You’d been preoccupied, feeling guilty for not sticking up for JJ, so you’d gotten home a little later than planned. Was it really that big of a deal? Tears fell as you wandered back down your driveway, trying to think of where the hell you can go.

“Uh, hey.” You flinched in shock, turning to see JJ lurking by the bushes with two grocery bags.

“What’re you doing here?” You asked quietly.

“Delivery,” he explained.

“Right, well, I can’t take it,” you muttered. “Just go knock.”

“Wait there.” You weren’t sure why you did what he said, but it wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You stood and waited, watching as he left the bags on your front door step and knocked before coming back; he didn’t even wait for a tip. “C’mon.”

The two of you walked through Figure Eight in silence, him puffing on his vape every now and then whilst you tried not to burst into tears. “I saw you and your dad, earlier.”

“What?” He turned to look at you in confusion.

“Outside your house.”

“Why were you outside my house?” He asked.

“I wasn’t, I just happened to be going past,” you explained. You bit your nails before speaking again, letting out a quiet sigh. “He’s an ass.”

Surprisingly, JJ let out a chuckle. He nodded his head. “Yeah, he is. So is your mom.” You giggled, agreeing with him. “Guess we both have shitty parents, huh?”

“Seems like it,” you shrugged. “Never thought we’d have something in common.”

“You know, my friend, John B, his house is sorta the hangout for kids with shitty parents. Did you want to… you could come over, until you can go back home,” JJ offered. He sounded anxious, as if he was asking you on a date.

You found yourself nodding your head, shyly smiling at him. “Yeah, just until I can go back home.”

You didn’t go home, instead you spent the night chatting shit about your mom with JJ whilst he rambled about his dad. You ended the night in his bed, laid on his chest as the two of you shared a joint. You didn’t feel so jealous anymore, and you were certain he didn’t either.

[mindless-existence1]

Sonic and reader becomes friends!

would shadow get jealous? Like his lover just became friends with his enemy lol

the shock on Sonic’s face learning g shadow has a lover lol

also I don’t know if it went through but I asked you to marry me

Authors note: Put a ring on it @luc1dw0rld

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

Sonic’s room was its usual chaos: posters plastered on the walls, random gadgets scattered on every surface, and a distinct smell of chili dogs lingering in the air. You were sprawled on his bed, flipping through a comic book while he sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in his own.

“Okay, but tell me this,” Sonic said, pointing to a panel in his comic. “How does this dude survive getting thrown into a volcano? Like, plot armor is one thing, but come on.”

You snorted, not even looking up from your page. “He’s the main character, Sonic. Logic doesn’t apply to him.”

“Still dumb,” he muttered, flicking the page with unnecessary force. You glanced at your watch, and your eyes widened. “Oh, shit! I have to leave and get ready for my date.”

Sonic looked up from his comic, raising an eyebrow. “Still can’t believe you’re dating Shadow.” You rolled your eyes with a grin, heading for the door. “You’ve said that every time I’ve mentioned him. I don't see what's so unbelievable."

“I dunno,” Sonic said, shrugging. “He’s just so... serious. And, like, broody and grumpy and you're....not. It’s weird.” You smirked. “Opposites attract, Sonic.”

He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Whatever. Tell him I said hi. And tell him not to glare at me next time we’re in the same room.”

“Will do, see ya later,” you called over your shoulder as you grabbed your things and headed out the door.

-----

By the time you got back to your place, the evening sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, expecting to find Shadow waiting as he usually did. Sure enough, there he was—sitting on your couch with his arms crossed and an unmistakable pout on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted warmly, setting your bag down. “You’re early.” Shadow’s crimson eyes flicked toward you briefly before he looked away. “Hmph.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “What’s with the attitude? Something happen?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied curtly, though the slight furrow of his brow said otherwise. You sighed, sitting down next to him. “Shadow, no offense but you'rea terrible lair. So spill.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the coffee table. Finally, he muttered, “You were with Sonic earlier.” You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah? We were just hanging out and reading comics. Why?”

Shadow shifted uncomfortably, his arms tightening over his chest. “…You spend a lot of time with him.” Realization dawned on you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Wait. Are you jealous?”

Shadow’s eyes snapped to yours, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “I am not jealous.”

“You totally are,” you teased, leaning closer. “You’re sulking because I was with Sonic. Admit it.”

“I don’t sulk,” he grumbled, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed him. You laughed softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

“Shadow, you have nothing to worry about. Sonic’s my best friend, yeah, but you’re the one I’m dating. You’re the one I want to be with because I love you.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. You don't miss the way his shoulders loose their tension, what you don't know is how his heart rate spikes every time you say that “…It’s irrational,” he admitted quietly.

“Very,” you agreed, grinning. The tension in his posture easing as he leaned back against the couch. “I just don’t understand how someone like him can take up so much of your attention.”

“Well, he’s my friend,” you said simply, “but you’re the one I am lucky enough to be dating.” He didn’t respond immediately, but the small hum he gave you was enough to know he understood.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, a warm silence settling between you. After a moment, you added playfull, "It’s kind of cute seeing you like this.”

Shadow rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smirk from appearing on his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” you teased, earning a quiet chuckle from him as the sun dipped below the horizon.

After a moment of comfortable silence you hear Shadow mumble something under his breath that makes your heart swell, "I love you to."

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (Matthew Sturniolo)

pt. 6

The bar was stunning—built on small wooden platforms connected by narrow walkways, all surrounded by glistening water under the moonlight. The soft hum of music and the chatter of people filled the air as we made our way toward the main area.

As we walked, I felt Matt’s hand on the small of my back. It was subtle, just enough to guide me forward as the crowd got a little tighter near the entrance.

I stiffened for a split second, fully aware of his touch, but I didn’t argue or pull away. It felt… natural, in a way I wasn’t sure how to process.

“You good?” Matt asked, leaning down slightly so I could hear him over the noise.

“Yeah,” I replied, glancing up at him briefly. “I’m fine.”

We made it to the bar, and Matt finally let his hand drop as we found an open spot. Charlie and Chris were a few steps behind us, laughing about something, while Nick was already waving down the bartender.

“What are we drinking tonight?” Charlie asked as she slid up beside me.

“Something strong,” I said with a grin, trying to push any lingering thoughts about Matt aside.

Matt smirked. “I’ll get the first round,” he offered, already signaling the bartender.

As he started ordering, I leaned against the counter, letting the cool night air brush over my skin. This trip was supposed to be fun, and I was determined to make sure it stayed that way—no matter how complicated things might get.

An hour and a half in, the bar was buzzing, and so was I. The drinks were flowing, the music was loud, and I was well past tipsy—solidly in drunk territory. Everything felt light, like I was floating. I couldn’t stop laughing at something Charlie said before she disappeared with Chris to dance.

Somehow, Matt had become my unofficial babysitter.

“Alright, easy there,” Matt said, steadying me as I swayed in my spot. His hands gripped my hips firmly, keeping me upright as I stumbled toward him.

“I’m fine!” I said, giggling as I leaned into him. “Totally fine.”

“You’re hammered,” he countered, a half-smile on his face. “Let’s just get some water.”

I pouted, but I didn’t argue. Matt was close, his hands still on me, and I couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled—like his cologne mixed with the salty sea air.

“Matt,” I said, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“What?” he asked, his tone cautious but amused.

I leaned in closer, lowering my voice, even though my filter was long gone. “How about we fuck on this trip?”

Matt froze, his hands tightening slightly on my hips. His jaw clenched as he processed what I’d just said.

I grinned, feeling bold. “The whole trip. But when we’re back home? Back to reality. It’s over.”

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and laced with disbelief, “you’re drunk. You don’t mean that.”

“I do,” I insisted, poking his chest. “I’m dead serious.”

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head as if trying to shake off what I’d just proposed. “You don’t know what you’re saying right now.”

I stood on my tiptoes, bringing my face closer to his. “Oh, I know exactly what I’m saying.”

Matt looked at me, his expression unreadable, before gently guiding me toward a nearby chair. “Sit down, Y/N,” he said softly. “We’ll talk about this when you’re sober.”

I huffed but didn’t fight him, letting him settle me into the seat. He crouched in front of me, his eyes searching mine with a mix of frustration and something else I couldn’t quite name.

“Drink this,” he said, handing me a bottle of water. “And stop talking like that.”

I took the water, still grinning at him. He looked rattled, and for some reason, that made me feel triumphant.

“Whatever you say, Matt,” I said with a teasing lilt, taking a sip.

But the truth was, even in my drunken haze, I knew I was gonna get  exactly what I wanted—and I had a feeling he did too.

The drive back to the Airbnb after the bar was quiet, the night air cooling my flushed face as I leaned my head against the window. Matt sat beside me in the backseat, his arm steadying me whenever we hit a bump in the road. His touch was gentle but firm, like he was afraid I might shatter.

Once we got to the house, everyone scattered—Nick and Chris laughing about something as they headed to their rooms, and Charlie muttering about needing water before stumbling off to meet Chris in hers. I walked toward my door, but I didn’t go in. Instead, I turned around and found Matt lingering in the hallway.

“Hey,” I whispered, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” he said softly, his hands in his pockets, watching me carefully.

I didn’t say anything else, just stepped forward, closing the space between us. Slowly, I reached out and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him down until our lips met. He hesitated for a split second before kissing me back, his hands finding my waist, pulling me closer.

It was desperate, a mix of anger, longing, and years of unresolved feelings. His lips were soft, but there was nothing gentle about the way he kissed me. It felt like we were both trying to make up for lost time and fight against it at the same time.

I pulled him toward my room, our lips never breaking apart. Once inside, the door clicked shut behind us, and I pushed him down onto the edge of the bed. I stood in front of him, catching my breath as I looked at him, my heart racing in my chest.

“Matt,” I said, my voice shaky.

He reached for my hand, holding it tightly. “Y/N, wait.”

I frowned, confused. “Bitch what?”

He shook his head, his jaw tight as he avoided my eyes. “Not like this. Not tonight.”

“Why not?” I asked, my voice rising slightly. “I want this. You want this. Why not just—”

“Because I don’t trust this,” Matt cut me off, his voice firm but not unkind. “You’ve been drinking, and I—Y/N, I can’t do this just to have you pretend it never happened in the morning. I can’t be heartbroken again.”

His words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I wobbled slightly, crossing my arms over my chest in a weak attempt to shield myself from the sting of his rejection.

“I’m not asking for a relationship,” I whispered, my words slurring slightly. “I’m just tryna bust one.”

Matt stared at me for a moment, his lips twitching in what looked like an attempt not to laugh. “Yeah, I know,” he said, finally letting out a small, exasperated chuckle as he stood up. “But I’m not doing this just so you can use me to get off. You’re drunk, Y/N.”

“TSA took my rose toy,” I said, my voice breaking into a dramatic whine. “C’mooonnn, Matt. I need to cum, and I know you can make it happen!”

He ran a hand down his face, clearly trying to hold it together. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, stepping closer to me. His expression softened as he leaned down, brushing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he said quietly, turning toward the door.

“Matt,” I called after him weakly, but he didn’t turn around. The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone in the room.

For a moment, I just stood there, staring at the empty space he left behind. Then, the emotions hit me like a tidal wave. Tears welled up in my eyes, and before I knew it, I was full-on sobbing. Feeling desperate and in need of comfort, I stumbled out of the room, my feet carrying me to Charlie and Chris’s door.

As I got closer, I heard… noises. Moaning. A lot of it.

I paused for a moment, my drunken brain trying to process what was happening on the other side of the door. My face flushed as I realized what I was hearing—Charlie and Chris were definitely in the middle of something.

I should have turned around. Anyone with half a brain would have. But I was too drunk, too emotional, and way too sad to care.

Without knocking, I opened the door and walked in.

“Y/N, what the—” Chris yelled, scrambling to pull the sheets up over him and Charlie. They were both very clearly naked, flushed, and—judging by Chris’s exasperated groan—not thrilled about the interruption.  

But I didn’t care. Tears streaming down my face, I stumbled into the room and flopped dramatically onto the bed in between charlie and chris. “Matt wouldn’t touch me!” I wailed, burying my face in the pillow.

There was a moment of stunned silence. Then, Charlie burst out laughing.

“Are you serious right now?” she choked out, her laughter bubbling uncontrollably. “You barged in here while we were literally fucking—oh my God, Y/N, I can’t.”

Chris groaned loudly, running a hand down his face. “Y/N, you couldn’t wait, like, ten minutes?”

“No!” I sobbed into the pillow, my voice muffled. “He kissed me on the forehead and said goodnight like I was a child! He wouldn’t even—ugh, it’s so embarrassing!”

Charlie, still laughing, reached out to rub my head. “Okay, okay,” she said between giggles, her tone shifting into an exaggeratedly soothing one. “It’s fine, sweetie. You’re just drunk and sad and—oh my God, this is the funniest thing that’s ever happened.”

Chris groaned again. “Why do you always encourage her?”

“Because it’s hilarious,” Charlie said, wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Scoot over, babe. She’s sleeping with us tonight.”

“Charlie—” Chris started, his voice filled with disbelief.

“Move,” she ordered, still laughing. “Our girl is heartbroken and hasn’t been touched in months. She needs us.”

Grumbling, Chris slid over as Charlie tugged me under the covers. “There, there,” she said in a mockingly motherly tone. “Matt’s a jerk. But we still love you, even if you’re a hot mess.”

Chris sighed dramatically. “If this turns into a slumber party, I’m moving out.”

Charlie snorted. “You’ll survive, babe. Now hush. Y/N, we’ll figure out your Matt drama tomorrow, okay?”

I sniffled, finally letting out a small laugh despite myself. “Thanks, guys.”

“Anytime, babe,” Charlie said, grinning. “Now get some sleep. And maybe next time, knock before entering. I had him almost whimpering man.”

“Charlie!” Chris yelled and turned over in bed, his back facing Charlie.

I let out another choked sob. “Guys stop! I miss when Matt would whimper under me.” 

Chris shot up in bed like a rocket. “God, ew! I don’t need to know about that—you know what, that’s it,” he said, swinging his legs off the bed. He grabbed his boxers off the floor and quickly pulled them on before marching toward the door.

“Where are you going?” Charlie called after him, still half-laughing.

“To fix this mess before it gets worse!” Chris barked, slamming the door behind him.

Charlie shook her head, stifling another laugh as she looked down at me. “See what you’ve done? You’ve traumatized my man.”

I sniffled dramatically. “Good. He deserves it.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, lying back down. “You’re a menace. And if Matt doesn’t fix this tonight, I will. But for now, shut up and sleep.”

Meanwhile, Chris found Matt sitting in the living room, scrolling on his phone with an unreadable expression.

“Hey,” Chris said, walking over to him.

Matt looked up, his jaw tightening slightly. “What do you want?”

Chris crossed his arms. “I want you to go get Y/N.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Pretty sure she’s in your bed right now, interrupting whatever you were doing.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Chris muttered dryly. “Look, she’s drunk, sad, and crying because you wouldn’t touch her—”

“Chris—” Matt started, a defensive edge in his voice.

“—and honestly? She needs you. Just take her to bed and lie with her or something. I don’t care. Just do something before she sobs herself into dehydration in my room.”

Matt hesitated, his jaw tightening further, but finally sighed and stood up. “Fine.”

Chris smirked. “Good. Now hurry up. I’ve got important things to do.”

Matt rolled his eyes as Chris walked off, muttering under his breath about “cock blocking” and “getting back to business" 

Back in the room, Charlie was gently stroking my hair, whispering, “It’s okay, babe. You’re still hot even if Matt’s being a dumbass.”

The door creaked open, and I froze as Matt stepped in. Charlie and I both turned toward him, though her smirk immediately grew mischievous.

“Well, well, well,” she said. “Look who decided to grow a pair.”

“Charlie, don’t start,” Matt said, his voice low and calm. He walked over to the bed and, without saying another word, scooped me up into his arms.

“Matt, what are you—” I started, but he didn’t answer. He just carried me toward the door.

“Goodnight, Charlie,” he said pointedly before walking out.

“Good luck, Matt!” Charlie called after us, her laughter echoing down the hall.

As we left the room, I glanced back over Matt’s shoulder just in time to see Chris taking off his boxers and pouncing back on top of Charlie. “Seriously?” I mumbled, but Matt didn’t react.

When we got to my room, Matt carefully laid me down on the bed, pulling the blanket over me. He moved to leave, but I grabbed his wrist, holding him there.

“Matt,” I whispered, my voice thick with desperation. “Don’t go. Stay with me.”

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed softly and climbed into bed beside me. He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close until we were spooning. His warmth and the steady rhythm of his breathing were comforting, but it wasn’t enough.

“Matt,” I whispered again, my voice trembling. “Please. Touch me.”

His grip tightened around me slightly, but he shook his head. “Not tonight, Y/N. You’ve had too much to drink, and I’m not doing this like this.”

“Please,” I begged, turning slightly to look at him. “I need you.”

“You need sleep,” he said softly, his voice firm but kind. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. But this? It has to wait.”

Tears pricked at my eyes again, but I didn’t argue. Instead, I buried my face in his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall as he held me.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head. And despite the ache in between my legs, his presence was enough to lull me into a peaceful sleep.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0llies @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @sturnsvelocity @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[distinctlywhumpthing]

It's Never Too Late for Christmas

Alright, look. This might be the fluffiest thing I have ever written. It's barely 1000 words so don't anyone come for me saying I've gone soft. Probably takes place a few weeks after First Night Home. Due credit to @deluxewhump's Wishbone for getting me thinking of the smell of Home. Wow, see what I did there: Full circle.

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“Merry Christmas!” Leo says, immediately wanting to dial it back. He holds out the repurposed brown grocery bag between them. 

Aiden looks down, one arm crossing over his torso. “But...mmm’it’s not…” 

Definitely too much enthusiasm. 

Leo lowers the bag. “Right, yeah. I just thought—well, we only missed it by a few weeks…you know back when we met. I mean… It seemed like…” 

Why had this seemed like a good idea again? 

“It’s nothing big,” he tries but Aiden won’t look at him. Like Aiden’s the one who misstepped instead of vice versa. The kid grips his own arm like it’s a lifeline, fingertips digging into his flesh. Never mind that he’s wearing just a t-shirt in late February. Even with the heat a few degrees warmer than he used to keep it, Leo has to bite his tongue to not ask if he wants a sweatshirt. He tries to limit his questions to the ten thousand a day he can’t avoid. 

“I didn’t even wrap it really,” Leo rushes to say. “It’s never too late for Christmas. ‘Honour it in your heart and try to keep it all the year’, you know—” God, stop talking. “‘Live in the Past, the Present, and the Future’—”

Well, at least he got the kid’s attention. Albeit paired with a confused and I’m-embarrassed-for-you grimace. 

“Please, just take it. Put me out of my misery.” 

Aiden takes a half step back but he does. 

Because Leo told him to. Fuck, this was a terrible idea.  

He holds the bag from the bottom with both hands, as gingerly as if something might be alive in there. His eyes flash up to Leo’s before he reaches inside. He opens his mouth once, twice, like he’s trying to say something, but doesn’t. Instead, he looks to Leo for permission again. 

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead,” he says absently, still stuck on what Aiden stopped himself from saying. 

The way the kid reaches into the bag with all the gusto of sticking his hand into a live fire hollows Leo’s chest. Once his fingers meet fabric instead of whatever horrors he’s expecting, Aiden pulls the bundle out with a little more conviction. 

Leo relieves him of the bag, fingers unconsciously creasing it back up along all the seams, as he watches Aiden unfold the jacket. For the past few weeks, he’s lent Aiden his Carhartt and carried rather than worn an embarrassingly retro ski parka. 

“I—” He looks at Leo, something between disbelief and awe in his face. 

“Try it on—I mean, you can try it on if you want to,” he revises. 

He threads a skinny arm through the first sleeve. 

Leo reaches around to hold the jacket so he can reach the other. “It’s the same size as mine…so you can wear more layers while it’s cold.” 

Aiden fingers the ends of the sleeves. “Thank…you...” 

“The color suits you,” Leo blurts, caught off guard by the shy smile Aiden’s trying to hide while inspecting the coat. A total one-eighty he hopes isn’t just Aiden placating him. 

–––

“Aiden? Are you ready?” Leo calls up the stairs as he heads to the door to get his shoes on. “We need to leave in two minutes if we’re going to—” 

He’s already there. 

Standing by the door with the Converse pulled on, the laces tucked inside, and wearing Leo’s jacket. He bites his lips together as he pulls the zipper up, slow enough for Leo to stop him. When he reaches the top without interruption, he lets his gaze slide over to the new navy jacket, still hanging from its hook, and back to Leo. 

He lets out the laugh he’s been holding in and pulls on the coat. “I knew there was a reason I got this in my size.” 

“Color…mmm’s-s-suits…you,” Aiden says, tucking his chin into the soft collar of the old brown jacket, hiding what Leo is sure is a grin. 

Leo scoops him into a hug. “You’ve been plotting this from the beginning, haven’t you?” He swings them side to side a little, the gentlest roughhousing. Aiden shakes his head against Leo’s chest, he’s laughing now but trying to hide it. “This is absolutely not going to work when I buy you workboots. We are not the same size.” 

Aiden’s reply is muffled so Leo pulls back just far enough for him to lift his head. “Layers,” he repeats, barely able to get it out before he’s shaking with laughter again, pressing his face into Leo’s shoulder.  

“You’re incorrigible.” Before he can overthink it, he presses a chaste kiss to the crown of his head. He smells like home. His home. H— 

Leo backpedals against the possessiveness before he even completes the thought. 

But the part of him that spent countless nights wondering if he’d wake up to an empty house finds it profoundly comforting. The evidence that on the basest, organic level Aiden belongs to this home. Has been engrained in its rhythms and smells. The fabric softener from the sheets he tangles up every night, the lavender shower gel he picked out himself, toothpaste from brushing his teeth after the breakfast they cooked together. 

And not least of all, Leo himself. Wrapped up in his arms and wearing his old jacket. 

Home. 

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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess

@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump

@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings

@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup

@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump

@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @pigeonwhumps @batfacedliar-yetagain

@whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight @whumps-and-bumps

@i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney @alternateminds @taterswhump

[nerd-space]

Chris Hartley in a black skimask + black fitted shirt combo. stay with me guys.

Convincing Chris to do this is not hard at all he's definitely thought about trying a skimask just for fun and then seeing his face covered in the mirror with his broad muscles suddenly makes him understand why you were practically BEGGING him to try it on.

Not so politely begging him to let you suck his cock with the mask on was another thing... that he 100% gave into because.. its you.. plus he can admit he does look good as hell like this.

"Yeah? whoa- jeez, babe.. you're practically drooling staring at me!-you- you what? you want..oh? oh.. you're even gonna beg me? well how could i turn down my sweet girl for asking me without any thought.."

Just the way he looks from this angle has you moaning around his dick.

Chest heaving through the tight shirt- his muscular chest and arms at the perfect angle for you to see just how bulky he is under those stupid loose sweaters.

Him lifting his shirt up because he knows how much you get off on his happy trail- despite feeling a little insecure about his pudgy stomach..

"Ba-baby.. oohhh.. ohhhmygod!- never seen you so-fuck- eager like this!- holyshit-"

Whiney moaning and tugging on your hair- his glasses are off by now- growing too foggy from the skimask.

his pretty glass blue eyes rolling and fluttering as he switches between his chin hitting his chest to watch your take his cock and his head rolling back against his gaming chair while his back arches when you suck a little harder..

"Yesyesyeeeesss.. fuck i gotta wear this.. stupid mask more...oh!-"

Dont get me started on fucking with that on? christ almighty,

Mirror. in the bathroom. bent over. mhm.

he can hardly see himself due to not having his glasses on but god the way your moans are so much louder and so much more pathetic while he's got the mask on is making him feel physically tingly.

"Chris!- ah!-uh!-ah!- yeah! yeahfuck! yesyesyes fuck me harder ohmygod fuuuck!-"

"Wha-whatever you want, baby.. whateveryouwant..mhm."

"S'deep! mm! mm! mmph! feel you n'my fucking gut-fuckshit fuck feels 'sgood, Chris!"

"oh-my god- babe if- you keep t-talking like that.. i'm not lasting... for shit!-"

okay sorry tbis got really long...

[airybcby]

Hello! I just read your “but my luck couldn't get any worse” and I’m obsessed with the crossover idea!

I would like to suggest Nagi with 🍓🍫

And if you cant get to it that’s totally okay ! I will be reading all the other ones anyways 🩵🥰

hi hi!!

a nagi seishiro chocolate covered strawberry :)

જ⁀♡⊹｡° hang up, give up

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event !

♡ content — nagi seishiro x gn! reader, gn! reader, i leaned very heavy into nagi being lazy, pls know ik there's more to his character but this made the story flow better, unrequited love, reo mentioned a lot, reo has slight feelings for reader, reader kinda likes reo, mentions of nagi being unhelpful

♡ synopsis — nagi seishiro wasn't known for being the most productive person, but even your feelings for him can't stop you from wondering what life would be like if you were paired with someone else

You didn’t expect much when your name showed up next to Nagi Seishiro’s on the list of marriage simulation pairs.

If anything, it felt like a cruel joke.

Nagi wasn’t someone who made an effort in relationships—platonic or otherwise. You’d known that for years. And yet, despite everything, you’d fallen for him. Slowly. Hopelessly.

He’d always been so unattainable, a puzzle you could never solve.

So when the simulation started, you tried to convince yourself it didn’t mean anything. It was just a program. A grade.

But being in close quarters with him every day made it harder to pretend.

Nagi wasn’t exactly the ideal partner.

He spent most of his time sprawled on the couch, scrolling through his phone or playing video games.

“You don’t have to do anything for this to work,” he said once, when you suggested setting up a schedule for chores. “We can just...exist. Isn’t that easier?”

You bit your tongue, unwilling to start an argument.

It was so typically Nagi—avoiding effort at all costs. And yet, you couldn’t stop the small flicker of hope in your chest.

Maybe this was your chance to finally break through his walls.

One afternoon, Reo stopped by to check in.

He’d been your friend for as long as you could remember, always lingering on the periphery of your relationship with Nagi.

“Still alive?” he teased, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk.

“Barely,” you muttered, glancing over your shoulder at Nagi, who was curled up on the couch, half-asleep.

Reo laughed, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “You deserve a medal for putting up with him, you know that?”

You forced a smile, unsure how to respond.

Because lately, you’d started noticing the way Reo looked at you—the way he always seemed to be there when you needed someone.

And it terrified you.

The turning point came during one of the simulation’s mandatory couple tasks: a mock date night.

You’d spent the entire afternoon trying to get Nagi to engage, but he’d shrugged off every suggestion you made.

“Can’t we just skip it?” he mumbled, burying his face in a pillow.

“No, we can’t,” you snapped, frustration boiling over. “This is important, Nagi. Can’t you at least try?”

He sighed, sitting up slowly. “Fine. Whatever you want.”

But his indifference stung more than you cared to admit.

Reo was the one who noticed your mood the next day.

“You okay?” he asked, catching you in the hallway after class.

“Yeah,” you said quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Just tired.”

But Reo didn’t buy it.

“Hey,” he said softly, stepping closer. “You don’t have to stress out about him. If you ever help to get him to start doing things, I’m here.”

For a moment, you felt a pang of something warm and unfamiliar—comfort, maybe.

And it scared you. Because no matter how kind Reo was, your heart still belonged to Nagi.

As the weeks went on, your feelings for Nagi only grew more complicated.

There were moments when he seemed almost...present. Like when he helped you carry groceries up to the apartment without being asked, or when he casually draped a blanket over your shoulders during a movie night.

But those moments were fleeting, drowned out by his usual apathy.

And through it all, Reo remained a constant presence in your life, always there to pick up the pieces when Nagi let you down.

On the final night of the simulation, you found yourself alone with Nagi in the living room, the silence stretching between you like an unspoken truth.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, his voice soft.

You hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

“I’m just...tired,” you admitted finally. “This whole thing—it’s been a lot.”

Nagi frowned, his expression unreadable. “I didn’t mean to make it harder for you.”

For a moment, you thought he might say more. That he might finally acknowledge the connection you’d been chasing all this time.

But instead, he stood up, yawning. “I’m going to bed. Night.”

And just like that, the moment was gone.

When the simulation ended, you packed up your things and said goodbye to Nagi without looking back.

Reo was waiting for you outside, his expression a mix of concern and something else you couldn’t quite place.

“You could have asked for help with him. I know he's kinda hard to deal with. ” he said again, his voice steady.

And for the first time, you considered the possibility that maybe, just maybe, Reo could be what you needed.

But as you walked away, your heart still ached for Nagi—for the boy who would never love you the way you wanted him to.

And you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to let him go.

i wrote this very late in the night and idk if i like it

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

[bonniepop]

“hey.”

you swivel your head, hair fanning around you. atsumu is standing to the entrance of the sparring grounds in just his shirt and trousers, and your mind betrays you by acknowledging his handsomeness. your face falls into a familiar scowl. “what do you want?”

he nods at the sabre as he walks closer, ignoring your animosity. “done with practice?”

“all my students refused to spar me,” you grumble, wiping at the sweat on your brow with the back of your hand. “cowards.”

“i’ll spar you,” he says then, eyes flitting to you.

your eyebrow hitches up. “you’re joking.”

“i may not be as good as my wife,” he says, moseying over to the sword rack. “but i can handle myself.”

you watch as he picks something relatively pliable, similar to the one you held in your hand. the word wife makes you bristle, and your nerves light up. “and if i kick your ass?”

he pauses briefly, and says, almost solemnly, “then i’ll deserve it.”

your eyes follow him as he walks to the center of the empty training arena. you walk, taking tentative steps closer until you were a duel’s distance away. brandishing your sword, you get into position, and atsumu mirrors you.

“widen your stance,” you tell him, and he looks down to adjust. you ensure that the next thing he sees is you charging at him.

there’s an unreasonable anger within you as he fluidly parries your attacks, because he’s a prince, of course he was trained in swordfighting, but the fact that this wouldn’t be an easy victory ticked you off.

he deserved to have his ass kicked.

he’s quick on his feet and has a long reach, so you find yourself dodging a few swings, but the second you see him flick his wrist in a move that looked like a retreat, you’re incensed. “are you going easy on me?”

you dart down and swing your leg, catching his ankles. he yelps as he falls, but he manages to roll away and get back up. you cry out, opting to hurl your sword at him.

he dodges, but it’s by crouching low, and you ram yourself at his torso. your shoulder hits his rib and he lets out a pained huff, but you make quick work of disarming him, sliding his sword in your grip as you push him unto his back and straddle his sides. you point the tip of the blade at his neck as the dust settles around you.

his brings his hands up to surrender. “okay, okay, i give up,” he breathes, a thin sheen of sweat shining on his forehead. “you win.” your chest heaves in time with his, and you lean back and toss the sword to the side.

when you get up, he pushes himself up by his elbows. “for the record,” he croaks as he cradles his side, “i didn’t let you win.” 

“you withdrew your blade,” you point out, collecting the fallen swords and putting them back.

“you were going so fast i didn't even know what i was doing,” his face crumples in effort as he stands up. “holy shit, you kicked my ass.”

“yeah, well,” you say, sheathing the sword so roughly that the rack rattles. “i’m mad.”

“i know,” he says, hobbling over to you. “look, i’m—”

“save it,” you say, raising your hand before walking away. “i’m not interested whatever you have to say.”

you can hear atsumu hobble after you. “i know, but—i’m sorry. i just... i’m sorry, okay? i fucked up.”

“yes." you don’t want to hear it, you just want to go and leave and hide somewhere you won't see his face, but your feet slow in their tracks.  "you did.”

“but i didn't do it."

you turn to him slowly and look at him straight in the eye. "didn't do what?"

"i didn't sleep with her," atsumu admits, coming closer. “i lied.”

your temper flares to an alarming degree that you force yourself to close your eyes and take a deep breath. it calms you none. “why?” you demand when you open your eyes to glare at him. “we were doing so well, atsumu. we were finally making this farce of a marriage work, and then you go and—”

“because,” he interrupts angrily, “i want this to be a real marriage.”

the answer takes you by surprise, and the rest of your retaliation dies in your throat.

“when this first started out, i wasn’t under any illusion that this marriage would actually turn into the real thing,” he says, visibly annoyed. “you didn’t want me—hell, you didn’t even like me! you’ve made that very, very clear, and i got the picture. i was willing to just be the husband who didn't give a shit about his wife, just like damn near every fucker in this kingdom, but then i got to know you, and i—” it's as if his rising frustration hit a ceiling and evaporated into smoke. he sighs, defeated. “i wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

you huff. “why?”

“because—" he hesitates, "because after the banquet—"

your memory flashes quickly. the gentle of his hand on your lower back, the heat of his breath near your ear. it was pretend, you kept telling yourself that night, pretending that things were not the way they were, the agreement you'd both discussed that whatever ire had wedged itself between you two be forgotten in the face of neighboring kingdoms.

"—i wanted to know if things had changed.” his eyes meet yours. "that by any chance, that the—" he stops himself, but your memories are faster.

the feel of his lips, softer than you thought they'd be, warmer than they had any right to be, against the back of your hand, against your cheek, against your mouth. fast, fleeting.

wanting.

his eyes meet yours, as if hearing your memory. “if what we have has a chance at the real thing.”

your chest flares with warmth, but then a sharpness takes over when the night plays further in your head. him pulling away, flirting with another woman in plain sight; him, flashing you the most antagonistic sneer you've seen on his face as the ballroom thins and he escapes with a woman, making sure you've seen.

he hurt you then.

“you betrayed my trust,” you say, trying to control your voice, but it croaks pathetically. it’s a feeble excuse, even to you.

“i’m sorry,” he mutters sincerely, coming closer. “i'm sorry, i truly am. trust me. i—” he huffs, “i miss you.”

your throat tightens and you sniff.

“getting to know you," he continues, "even when you were a nightmare, was—was fun. sneaking around and playing games and making fun of people was fun. i actually… i grew to like you, because you’re not as bad as i thought you were, and at this point i’m hoping that you don’t think i was as bad as the asshole i made myself out to be in the beginning, and at the banquet. and i—” he swallows, “i’m hoping that, now that you know me… that this could be... that things could be different."

he groans and looks up at the ceiling. “god. what is happening to me.”

it’s such a juvenile reaction that it makes your lip twitch. “do you even know what you’re asking?” you ask, trying to school your expression. “what makes you think this will work?”

he tips his chin down to look at you. “we’ve survived this long, right?” he asks, coming closer. “what’s another eternity? besides,” he reaches forward to brush your hair back. “you’re not so bad.” 

you sniffle and he presses his forehead to yours, eyes closing. “i’m really sorry,” he whispers. “please forgive me.”

you swallow, wanting to respond with so many things, but instead, you say, “you’re not so bad either.” 

he pulls back in surprise, and the smile that takes over his face is blindingly bright.

[milliesfishes]

Billy comforting you when you’ve had the worst day and just break down in his arms and life just feels too much

writing this to be self indulgent rn because I'm beyond rn

౨ৎ꣑ৎbilly when you've had a bad day౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

The door opened, and his boots clunked on the floor as he walked in, but you didn't stir, lying sideways on the floor by your bed. Your eyes were closed. You didn't feel like moving, simply letting everything pass you by. There was a sad part of you that didn't want to throw away any day, but a worse part that wanted it to be over. Today had been a wreck.

"Honey?" Billy's voice barely pierced your senses, and you opened your eyes lazily. "I'm home!"

On a normal day, you would have gone to greet him, folded your arms around his neck and told him how happy you were to see him. Not that you weren't now. His presence settled a smidge of relief on your shoulders.

"Where are you?" Billy was close to the bedroom now, and you heard him open the door. Now he'd surely see you. "Hey-what are you doing? You okay?"

A gentle pair of hands found your sides, lifting you off the ground and leaning you against something warm and solid. You leaned your cheek against him- an instant response. Billy kissed your forehead, clasping you close as he pulled you to sit over his thigh. "What happened, baby?"

Your lower lip began to tremble, but you tried to stop it. "I fell."

"Fell?" You didn't have to look to know his brow was creasing. "'n you couldn't get up?"

"Bad day," you whispered, still trying to keep it together.

"Oh, sweetheart." Billy adjusted you, his hand splaying over your tummy. "I'm sorry." His voice was gentle, and you felt tears stubbornly prick at your eyelids. Not wanting to cry, you pushed your face into his chest, a sniffle betraying you. Fingers hooking on one of his shirt buttons, you hung on for dear life.

"C'mere, baby. Let's come up here." Billy managed to maneuver you onto the bed, and as soon as he joined you, you were snuggling back into his chest. Ignoring the dirt on his clothes from riding, you took in a deep breath. He still smelled like him. Like your Billy.

The familiarity of it all broke down your walls. Tears started coming and they wouldn't stop, soaking Billy's shirt as your breaths stuttered. He moved his hand to your crown, holding you there and using his other to keep you pressed to his side. "Shh, shh. I've got you. I'm here." You nodded, a little sob escaping. Billy didn't miss a beat, pressing his lips to your hair. "I know, I know." Beginning to stroke her back, he murmured, "What happened, my love?"

Still sniffling, you started to speak, your words hitching here and there. "I w-woke up later than I wanted to and-d I barely got anything done and there's still wash to do and I fell and s-so there wasn't any time to really ma-ake dinner and then I fell again."

He was quiet all through your explanation, but when you finished, his arms wound around you. It was like he was building a shell around you, something unbreakable by whatever else the day could possibly throw at you.

"Oh, sunshine," Billy whispered, turning sideways to hold you better. You hid your face in his chest, his scent completely enveloping you. Horses, worn leather, the faintest whiff of gunpowder. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. That must've been so hard."

"I missed you," you mumbled, and he held his lips to your forehead.

"I missed you too." Billy pressed a few fast kisses to your hair. "My girl...it's gonna be all better, okay? We're gonna make it all better."

He was speaking so sweetly that you believed him. Billy lifted you up under your arms, sitting you in front of him. You sniffled, lifting your hand to brush away any other tears. "Better?"

"Yeah," he promised softly, looking into your eyes and cupping your cheek. "You wanna get into something more comfy?"

Your lips lifted just a little bit when you realized what he meant. He took that as a yes, standing up and retrieving a clean shirt of his from the drawer. He unbuttoned your dress carefully, pulling it over your head. The feeling of the well-worn fabric on your skin only further served to help you relax. Billy took one of the blankets from the foot of your bed and dragged it over your shoulders. "I brought some strawberries from town. That sound good?"

Nodding, you pulled the blanket edges around yourself as he trailed into the kitchen. Your heart nearly felt warm with how sweet he was being. Billy's job was rough, and he endured far more hardship in a day than you could imagine. And still he never once made you feel bad if you had a rough day.

"Here you are," he smiled, setting a bowl of sliced strawberries in your hands. Billy sat behind you, pulling you to sit between his legs. While you ate he was quiet, keeping a hand over your midsection and letting you lean back into his chest.

When your fork scraped the bottom of the bowl, Billy took it out of your hands, setting it on the nightstand. "Better?"

You smiled, happily cozied up in his arms. He began to rock you back and forth, and a little giggle escaped you. "Better. I love you."

"I love you too, sunshine." Billy kissed your hair. "You're a sweetheart, y'know? You're the best thing that ever happened to me."

It only made your smile grow, and you snuggled into his chest. "Billy."

"There's my girl." He was still rocking you, cheek against your hair. "We're gonna get some sleep, okay baby? It's gonna be all better in the morning."

"Yeah." You were already drifting off. He pulled the blanket over your legs, swaying gently back and forth. "Sleep."

Your eyes were closed, so you couldn't see him smiling, but you knew he was.