#sorry let me be annoying i feel combative right now

[gwandas]

I’d be mad too if Nesta was the only Archeron sister whose friends weren’t paid to be around her 🤭

[kill4luvina]

"Right thru me"

Onyankopon x Black!Reader

Summary : You and your man been havin' this dumb argument, and he know you so well it lowkey freaks you out. Especially today because he already had your whole routine down from prior nights when you'd act up exactly like this.

CW : SMUT, Pussy Slapping, Overstimulation, reader tryna run from the dick,Unprotected sex, (probably a lil more),not proof read. (This is a really really old draft im posting.)

" What are we doin'? Could you see through me? 'Cause you say, "Y/N," and I say, "Who, me?" And you say, "No, you," and I say, "Screw you"

Your jaw would drop as your stared at your boyfriend after hearing the bullshit that just came out his mouth. "You blowin my shi, like shut the actual fuck up." You'd say before turning your body away from him annoyed as fuck. "Mamas, you know damn well this ain't worth gettin' all worked up about," Ony would say, glancin' at you for a sec before realizing you were genuinely mad.

"Mamas… can you at least finish my hair before you get mad…?" he'd ask, getting up from where he was sitting and slowly walking over to you. You'd turn your back quickly, throwing the comb you had from doing his hair straight at him. He'd catch it, pissing you off even more as you stormed off into your room, leaving him completely alone in the living room.

He already knew you'd be in your room hitting your vape like a mad woman just out of pure anger. "Mamas.." He'd call from the opposite side of the door, slowly opening as you two make eye contact. "Come back please," he'd plead, already knowing you'd say no as you'd turn your body so your back was now facing him.

You'd hit your vape a couple of times before feeling a small kiss in your neck. "I'm sorry.." He'd whisper softly, knowing this always made you weak. Even before this, in a life before when it came to him his soul knew how to make yours feel better no matter what.

"Why would you say that..?" You'd ask firmly, trying to stand your ground. You'd be caught off guard feeling Ony's warm hands up against your skin. He'd softly play with your tits under your shirt leaving soft love bites on your neck. "You know I don't mean it.." he'd whisper.

"Onyyy-" you'd moan eyes rolling back as you felt his dick hitting you in all the right places. Your pussy creaming all over his dick as he gave you slow deep strokes. "You like that?" He'd ask, slapping your ass as he kept a constant speed.

"Oh-- oh my god.." You'd cry as you felt him pull out slapping his dick against your pussy. Slowly pushing himself back in you'd push your hips back so it'd slip in faster. He'd softly whimper, his eyes focusing on how your pussy swallowed him whole.

"Mama's, stop acting like you can take this dick.." He'd slap your ass getting a gasp out of you. "Y-yes I can!" You'd try to say as you started fucking back into him trying to prove him wrong.

"You always saying that shit until I'm rearranging your guts and you runnin'.." He'd said as he used a hand to push you head down into the bed, already aware of what your stubborn ass was gonna say. "Onyy, fuck mee" you'd whine getting your head pushed down, arching your back more for him.

"mmhm," He'd say putting a leg up onto the bed, as he started to pick up his pace. His eyes focusing now how creamy he could make your pussy, your moans getting louder as you tried your hardest to keep fucking back into him to prove him wrong.

Your eyes getting blurry the moment you felt a slap to your ass, whining you'd turn to look up at him. "Ony, stop being so mean.." You'd weakly let out as you kept fucking yourself onto his dick, he'd raise a brow before pulling out and slapping your pussy. "Ony!" You'd moan the mixture of pain & pleasure confusing you.

He'd go right back to fucking you, but this time his thrusts were deeper, quicker and much more rough. Not even a minute passes by and your cumming, your eyes rolling so far back as your pussy tightened around him.

"See, look at you, a mess." He'd say still fucking you, at the same pace but even rougher. "O-onyyy, too muchhh." you'd cry tears already rolling down you cheek as you felt him speeding up his pace. "But you can take it, right?" He'd continue as he'd slap your ass here and there.

"Can'ttt" you'd cry, reaching a hand back to attempt to push him back. "Mama's, what i said abt running from the dick?" he'd ask ignoring your silly attempt as he picked the pace up fucking you even deeper. "ddont rememberr" you'd babble out feeling like you couldn't remember anything.

"yeah, alright. just move this fucking hand."

" You make me laugh, you make hoarse from yelling at you And getting at you, picking up dishes, throwing them at you "

[write4cench]

kisses and braids.

summary: you braid central cee’s hair, but he seems to be a bit too distracted.

pairs: girlfriendreader x boyfriendcee

genre: fluff + making out?

word count: 1.2k

a/n: idk about u but something about braiding a mans hair just does it for me. 😩

“oakley, if you don’t stop moving i swear your braids won’t turn out right.” you complained as he leaned over to pick up something that he managed to drop on the floor, a smile only grew on his lips amused at your annoyance.

central cee and you were seated in the bedroom of your apartment as he found himself comfortable upon the floor, rested on a pillow within your legs whilst you were seated upon your bed.

it was a random time within the evening when the idea of braids came across his mind and of course he turned to you, pleading for you to braid his hair.

and now here you were, braiding his hair into cornrows and having been doing so for the past hour or so, only getting to about half of his head.

one thing about central cee is that he had a lot of hair, but for some reason despite your advice, he always decided to keep it underneath something.

“shit, does it have to be this tight?” he asks you as his tattooed hand comes to rest upon his newly braided hair, you giggled at his silliness.

“baby i’m sorry, but if you want them to look good for longer they can’t be loose.” you insist to him and he sighs, staring off towards the television in your room.

“i just wanna look good for my show this saturday.” he mumbles as he opens a packet of whatever it is that he decides to eat, eyes glued onto the screen.

you pick out a comb and part his head, pulling apart his hair as you do so. “you always look good, “ you start causing an adorable smile to grow on his lips, “why don’t you just keep your hair out once in a while?” you ask him.

he shrugs his shoulders, “i guess it’s too much work innit, at least now there’ll be something done to it.” he insists, implying towards the braids you do.

you pull off of his head and lean back checking out your job so far, unable to see the front you sigh. “can you like turn this way?” you ask him.

you tilt your head towards him to get a better view of the job you’ve done so far. the two of you make eye contact with one one another and a smile grows upon his lips.

“what’s funny?” you ask him confused, comb in other hand. he smiles brightly and adorably, “nah nothing, you just look cute when you’re focused.”

you roll your eyes upon hearing his words and it only makes him laugh, “shut up.” you mumble. “it’s real cute.” he continues.

the room fell quiet and you turned your focus back onto braiding as neat as you possibly could do so, you were on the final braid luckily so it wasn’t a hard job.

cench was too busy eating upon on the crisps within his hands as he found himself interested in whatever it was that he was watching, one thing about the two of you is although you might not talk a lot with each other, something about the quiet company is comforting.

his hand came to playfully hit against your leg in a rhythmic form, the sudden feeling wasn’t annoying but comforting knowing the way he would be playful with you.

“why are you hitting my leg now?” you ask him, slightly moving after each hit of his hand, he doesn’t stop instead continuing on not uttering an explanation causing you to let out a stressed sigh. "alright i guess you want to be annoying." you mutter, loud enough for him to hear.

your hands focus on finish the braid, your hands interwinding his hair between one another as you approach the end, trying to finish it as fast as you possibly can, and when you do you sit back and glance at the finished product.

cench remains seated for a moment, filling his mouth, when he doesn't feel your hands on his hair he turns around to look towards you, eyes wide and hopeful, you beam.

"are we done?" he blinks and you nod your head, he exhales tired yet excitedly whilst you lean over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders pulling him into a hug from behind, he eases into your embrace.

"i'm tired." you yawn as you rest your hands for a short moment, "get some rest." you insists and you refuse, shaking you head.

as soon as you lean back he gets up from the floor, stretching for a short moment and you watch him do so. you take the chance to get up from the bed as well, standing beside him.

"wanna see how it looks?" you manage to say through a yawn, he only looks towards you with thankful eyes, pulling you into his arms.

you almost squeal at the sudden affection, his arms rest against your lower back as he holds you close, his eyes studying yours noticing how you pretend to wish to pull away from him.

"i asked you if you wanted to see your hair, not if you wanted to kiss me." you tell him and he tiredly laughs, arms still holding around onto you. "i don't care, why can't i be close with my girl?"

his head comes to teasingly rest against your shoulder and you giggle as you find a comfort in wrapping your arms over his own, you feel him pecker a few lips onto your skin and since your ticklish a few laughs manage escape through your lips.

"stop." you manage to say through your laughter a hand gently holding onto your head, but he only continues holding you close, you feel his lips form a grin against the skin of your neck.

as soon as he pulls apart you meet eye contact once again, you don't utter a word instead your smile lingers upon your lips and one mirrors upon his own. you lean in, your lips meeting his and he doesn't hesitate to kiss you back.

you kiss one another a passionate moment, enjoying the feeling. the sound of your lips against one another sounds throughout the silence and the comfort of your bedroom. you forget about everything, instead you're focused about spending this moment with the man who you truly love.

you pull away from the kiss when you feel it begin to grow a little too heated, feeling the tingles and sparks that flow throughout your body. playfully you push him away from you, his arms widen and his mouth drops jokingly confused yet enjoying the act.

"we need to stop there." you tell him warningly, it almost as if he knows the affect you have on him since he doesn't complain and you know that he knows.

"alright." he simply says.

nothing but love fills his eyes and it's almost as if you always catch yourself smiling whenever you're with him. "i love you." you say.

he remains quiet for a good moment, realising he's about to catch himself saying something he never thought he would, you watch him expectantly watching how his lips agape to utter the words, just when he's about to he buries his head into his hands.

"i love you too."

[xblackkurox]

The Neighborhood

Warnings: Smut, fem reader, sub!reader x Dom!Toji, dirty talk, p in v, degradation, penetration, fingering, a bit of oral if you squint, slut shaming, big dick toji, you are doing it while Megumi sleeps, Toji is rough, spitting, unprotected sex (use it!), belly bulge, dacryphilia, cum eating, orgasm denial, Toji is a little mean, nipple play, creampie, breeding kink. I think that's it! Please let me know if I missed something!! And OFC: MINORS DON'T INTERACT!!!! This might be full of grammar mistakes since eng is not my first language, sowy :).

ENJOY BABES <3

In which you arrive to a new building to start a new life. Little do you know what type of neighbors await you.

First off, the older and tired single dad Toji, whom you help out with taking care of his kid a couple of times.

You looked around, hands in your hips. Finally, you say to yourself. It’s been a whole afternoon of unpacking and decorating, but your new apartment is officially done. You just arrived to this new building yesterday, first time living alone, actually first time moving out of your parent’s house. 

The apartment was small, you didn’t really care and even if you did, that’s all you could afford at the moment. Looking at the bright side of it, it was quick to decor.

You wiped away a drop of sweat in your forehead, time for a shower. 

Trail of your clothes to the bathroom, you turned on the shower and choose the artist for today. Arctic Monkeys it is. You enter the shower as the music starts blasting. The fresh water cleaning and relaxing you. The feeling is amazing, this is what freedom tastes like?

You are so immersed in yourself, vibing to the music and enjoying the water running down your body, you don’t even realize there is someone knocking at your door until the slams get hard enough.

Fuck, you swear to yourself. Stepping out of the shower, you grab a towel and wrap it down your body. The knocking getting more and more insistent. You stop the song now playing and hurry to the door, still soaking. 

“Going! Damn…” And you open the door. 

Oh…

Tall, black haired, a scar on the corner of his lip. The too small for him shirt wraps his toned arms and chest, God you can even see his abs through it. His gray eyes looking at you, he’s obviously angry, but he still scans your barely covered body up and down. 

“Turn the damn music down.” His deep voice commands. 

“Why should I?” You raise a brow at him, annoyed that he is rudely scolding you for 10 minutes of some music. He ruined your well deserved relaxing shower. 

He clicks his tongue before talking again, he looks like he’s having a hard time trying to control his tone while speaking. It’s actually pretty intimidating, specially because he is built like a wardrobe. 

“Do you even know what time is it?” Before you answer back, he rises his hand slightly and stops you. “Late.” He states. 

His fingers comb his dark hair back, he looks tired. 

“Look, I live next door, I have a kid, and I’m trying to put him to sleep… So just stop being a brat and tone it down, alright?”

He almost sounds desperate. Your lips press together in an empathic and apologetic expression. 

“I’m sorry, didn’t know. It was just for my shower, so anyw…”

“Nice.” And he left to his still open door. Asshole, I should blast my music even louder now, you think to yourself.

You watch him walk and right before he closes the door to his apartment you see a little black haired kid rubbing his eyes. Well, maybe you behave for the little kid. 

A couple of days later, you are eating some Chinese food in your couch when you hear a knock on the door. You stop scrolling down on your Instagram, put the food down on the table and head to the door. 

When you open it, there’s no one… Until you look down. The little’s kid eyes wandering on the floor, you can see a slight blush on his cheeks. Squatting down to match his height, you tilt your head and give him a soft smile. 

“Hello there… Is something wrong?” He seems a little cautious when talking to you. 

“I can’t get inside the house… Dad is not here.”

“Well, do you know your dad’s number? I can call him.” The kid says no with his head. 

“Ummmm… Alright, you can wait with me until he arrives, I’ll leave him a note on the door. Is that okay?” He nods, he hasn’t looked you once in the eyes yet. 

He follows you into the apartment, you grab a post-it a quickly write there: “Your kid locked himself out of the house, he is with me. Atte: Your brat neighbor next door.” 

Once it’s hooked to their door, you come back to your own house. The black haired child is standing awkwardly in your living room. 

You sit in the couch and tap the place by your side. 

“Sit here, we can watch TV.” He climbs beside you. “So, what’s your name?”

“Megumi…” 

He’s so shy. 

“And where’s dad?” Megumi looks directly at you for the first time. 

“Working.”

“And you are alone?” A nod in response. “ Why were you out of the house?”

His cheeks blushing harshly, he looks away once again. He confesses anyway.

“There was a spider, the door closed.” 

You hold in a laugh. “It’s okay, I am scared of spiders too. Now, are you hungry?”

“No, thank you.” He declines politely. He is way more of a gentleman than his dad.

“You sure? I can order some pizza.” His eyes light up as he looks at you. “Pizza it is, then.”

Little by little, Megumi is loosening up a bit. He becomes more chatty while you eat pizza, he evens smile from time to time. You are getting done with dinner when knocks on the door interrupt you. Must be him.

You stand from the floor where you were with Megumi and walk to the door. The handsome man has the post-it in hand, his head peeks inside to check on the kid. 

“He’s safe and sound, don’t worry.” His eyes lock with yours. 

“Thank you…” He seems sincere.

“Wanna come in? He’s just finishing dinner.” His eyes widen while entering the apartment. 

“Dinner? You didn’t have to…”

“I ordered pizza for me and shared, no big deal” You lie. He side eyes you, probably suspecting that’s not true. 

He squats in front of Megumi. “How you doing kid? You’ve been good to the young lady, I suppose?”

Megumi nods, and shakes off the hand his dad places on his little head. Too focused on the TV. I laugh while sitting on the couch. 

“Have a seat, don’t need to rush him.”

He sits beside you, his legs spread and his elbows on each knee. Your breath gets stuck in your throat for a moment, in this distance you can smell his manly scent. His eyes gaze at you. 

“So, what’s your name, doll?” You answer. “Right, thank you again, y/n.”

You can tell by his deep voice how exhausted he is, so the next sentence you pronounce it carefully. 

“Does Megumi stay alone at home often?” He remains silent for a moment, looking at you. Seemed like he was trying to figure out whether you were judging his parenting or not. Finally, he sighed and brushed back his hair. 

“Nah, only when I work in the afternoons, not happens much… I usually work in the mornings and Megumi is at school.” His eyes looking down at his son, he’s finished with the pizza, but he is still enchanted with the movie on the TV.

You're playing with your own fingers in your lap, clearing your throat before speaking again.

“I could take care of him when that happens, I also work in the mornings.”

“Can’t pay for a babysitter.” He cuts you quickly.

“Wasn’t expecting to get paid. Megumi is a sweet kid, I wouldn’t mind taking care of him.”

The kid is sweet, but the dad is hot as hell.

His gray eyes light up slightly, he is looking so deep into you, you fear he could read your thoughts. He then looks at his son again.

“Hey Megu.” The kid turns his head to his dad with an annoyed grin. “Would you like to spend time here when dad’s not home?”

Megumi’s eyes look at you shortly. “Cool.” He simply answers, thumb up. 

You laugh, a bit flattered with the kid’s approval. Toji sighs and gets up from the couch. 

“Thank you doll. I’ll let you know beforehand each time.” The nickname giving you butterflies in your tummy. 

“Sure.”

Toji grabs Megumi and puts him over his shoulder, walking to the door. The kid whines and demands to keep watching TV.

“Megumi be polite with the pretty girl and thank her.” Megumi obeys his father and mumbles a little “thanks” to you with embarrassment. 

And like that, you became Megumi’s occasional babysitter. 

……

You were laying in Toji’s couch, scrolling through your socials waiting for the man to get home. You putted Megumi to bed a while ago now, since it was already late at night. 

You heard the keys on the lock and then the door opening. Toji’s lazy steps took a while to get into the living room. His eyes gazed at you as he took off his jacket. 

“Comfortable there doll?” Were his first words as his gaze scanned your laying body.

“Megumi is in bed already.” You reply, putting away your phone and looking at him. His black bangs falling on his forehead, gray tired eyes.

“I figured.” He sits on the couch beside your feet. 

“How’s work” You sit up on the couch. 

“Good, actually got some news for you. I’ve been promoted at work, so from now on, ill be able to pay for an actual babysitter. You don’t need to do this no more.” 

You clear your throat slightly before talking, don’t want him to notice the disappointment in your voice. 

“Aw, so this is my last time baby sitting Megu?” He nods. “Hope I can still come around to hang out with him sometime.”

“I’m sure he would love that.” Would you? The question gets stuck in your chest. 

“Well…” You say while getting up. “It’s been a pleasure-”

“Come sit on my lap.” He pats his thighs with his big hand. 

“Wait… What?” You’re actually not sure if he said those words or your brain is playing a trick on you. Either way, you go red in your cheeks.

“You’ve heard me, sit on my lap.” Alright, he said that. You stay still. “Know you want it, so don’t make me repeat myself again.” 

His voice sounds demanding and slightly annoyed. Even if you didn't want to, it would be hard to disobey him. Good for you that you wanted. 

With shaky legs, you sit astride on his lap, your hands finding his hard chest for balance. 

Now that you’ve obeyed him, his expression softens considerably. The scar on the corner of his mouth deforming into a mischievous smirk.

“There you go. Now don’t be so shy, I’ve seen how you look at me.” His big hand cups your face, his thumb gently rubbing your hot cheek. “Huh? Where did all your confidence go all of a sudden? Just wanna pay you back for taking care of my kiddo.”

The rough palm of his free hand teasing from your knee up your thigh, finding its way under your sporty shorts. Grabbing your ass cheek with no shame. Your legs tremble on top of him, your lips part as if to moan. 

Toji lets out a mean chuckle before lifting you from your lap and throwing you back on the couch, you gasp as your back touches de cushions. The man wastes no time as he towers you and slides both your shorts and panties off your legs in a smooth motion. 

“Oh? Toji!” Your voice coming out high-pitched. 

“You better keep it quiet, doll face.” He spreads wide open your shaky legs. “Don’t wanna wake up Megumi now, don’t ya?”

Next thing you feel is two of his thick long fingers forcing its way inside of you, stretching you open. “W-wait.” You plead, trying to keep your voice lower this time. 

“For what? You're already soaking wet, darling.” His palm smacks against your clit with each thrust, splashing your juices all over your belly and thighs. 

“Fuuuuck-” A whine leaving your lips as he slides in another finger. 

“Stop complaining, doin this for your own good.” He scissors and stretches you open, his thumb playing and rubbing in circular movements on your swollen button. With his other hand, he pulls your shirt over your bare breasts.

“Of course, not wearing bra, like the little whore you are.” He takes your nipple between his thumb and his index, pinching and pulling from it. You hiss, he’s too harsh. “You thought I was not gonna catch how your nipples always peek through your slutty clothes? Or maybe that’s exactly what ya wanted…” 

He spits in your unattended breast right before spreading his saliva around your boob with his tongue. Your back arches when he teases with his teeth. Your hand covering your mouth, muffling soft moans. 

Your hips start to roll back against his hand, a familiar tension building up in your stomach. By now, you already need to be biting on your fingers, so your pornographic sounds don’t get too loud. That’s when he pulls his thick, calloused fingers out from your pussy. 

“You’re only cumming on my dick.” He sentences. “Now take off that shirt, don’t want it covering your pretty tits.”

As you do so, he also takes off his shirt. Exposing his very much toned torso, tell me about pretty tits. His gaze checking out your naked and spread body as he pulls down his trousers and boxers to his knees. 

“Wait.” Your eyes widen.

You are no scared virgin, but you can’t deny the little sense of anxiety that settles in your chest when you see his size. Now you understand what he meant by that doing this for your own good comment.

“There’s no way that’s going to fit in.” Your voice coming out tremulous. His face turning into an almost cynical expression. 

“Bet it does.” Your legs spread wider by his hands. By this point, it’s not even necessary, he just wants to see your soaking cunt on display for him. “And you're gonna take it with no nagging, got it?”

He doesn't even wait for an answer, a nod, some sort of approval. No, he is already pushing his thick and long cock pass your folds. 

The sting of pain is immediate, making you shed some tears. 

“Fuck Toji! It hurts!” His hand going to your mouth like a slap, except he keeps it there. Covering right under your nose, muffling any sound and pinning your head to the couch. You can taste yourself in the skin of his palm.

“I thought I told you to be quiet.” Threatening and deep voice, it shouldn’t turn you on so much. 

Your eyes shut as he stretches you open and fills you up like you’ve never been before. He is looking down, watching how stuffed you are with his dick, a little bulge poking in your belly. 

He moves, sliding himself out until just his fat tip is in, only to thrust all of him back in. Over and over again. The hand on your mouth, already wet with your tears and drool. 

His jaw is clenched, growling in a predatory way. 

“Don’t be so dramatic doll, from the way your sensitive cunt is throbbing and sucking me in I can tell you like it.”

He sets a fast pace, and finally he stops muzzling you. He chuckles when he sees your expression, watching how he already turned you into a whimpering mess. 

Both his hands going to grip your waist, pushing your body down to meet his brutal ramming. He is gonna leave bruises there. It hurts, but it hurts so good.

“Nnnnnngh- so full-”  Your fingers are grabbing the cushions, holding in for dear life. 

“Fuck- I didn't think you were going to be so tight… Based on how slutty you look.” 

Drops of sweat running down his pectorals to his abs, his skin shiny, just like yours must look too. Your breasts bouncing up and down with the back and forth of his hips. 

Each time, being harder to swallow your own moans, as the pain fades away and the intense pleasure of being full replaces it. 

Toji is fucking you out of your senses, losing consciousness of where you are and, of course, of how loud you are being. 

He pulls out for a second, flipping you on your stomach, his hands pulling your hips up, making your knees bend. Ass up for him. “Bite the damn cushion, since you can’t be fucking quiet.”

At first, you don’t do it, but when he thrusts back in, his pelvis smacking your booty cheeks, you hurry to grab a cushion and stuff your mouth with it. 

You can hear him chuckle meanly behind you, hands massaging and spreading your ass as he keeps charging against you.

The plushie muffling your struggled cries. 

“That’s it… next time we fuckin at your place, gonna make you bounce on my dick and be as loud as you want, alright doll face? Wanna hear those sweet whimpers of yours.” You turn your face to look at him over your shoulder, nodding. You look so fucked up, a stray tear rolling down your blushed cheek. That view only fuels Toji’s lust, he goes harder and reaches deeper. 

One of his hands wrap around your hair and yanks you up, your back pressed against his board chest. His other hand goes to your neck, choking you slightly. Not enough to leave you breathless, but enough to keep your sounds at bay. 

Like this, he reaches too deep, hitting your cervix over and over again. You are getting closer, dangerously quickly. Your eyes roll back, and your hands search something to grip desperately, finding his forearms to dig your nails on. 

“Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I won’t last long.” You weren’t even doing that on purpose, you weren’t doing anything voluntary right now. Your mind too far gone to have any type of control over your body. 

“Gonna cum inside, you are so sweet to my kid bet you would be a good mama huh? Want me to put a baby in you?” 

You definitely not wanted to be a mother right now, but those words hit something primal within you. You nodded, head falling back in his shoulder. 

“Yeah! Fill me up!” His grip in your throat and waist tighten after your words, the ramming so animalistic pushing you over the edge. 

Your eyes rolling back, toes curling, whole body spasming, mouth wide open letting go hoarse and struggled babbling. 

Toji cums right after, with some final sloppy thrusts. Filling your insides with his seed. 

“Fuck- taking me so good-”

He lets go of you after a moment, causing you to fall to your previous position, back arched and ass lifted, eyes shut while you pant. Toji watches in delight how the mix of his cum and your juices drool out of you. The view enough to make him hard again. 

“You alright there doll face?” His voice was hoarse and sounded out of breath. His hands wrapped around your waist to flip you around. He chuckled at your fucked out expression. 

You bat your wet eyelashes at him, finally coming back to reality, a little nod to his question. 

“Good. Now, how many times you’ve taken care of Megumi?”

You tilt your head, confused by the sudden question and still gasping for air. 

“Like five?” 

With a nod, he crawled back in the couch, lowering in between your thighs. His tongue sticking out and lapping at your sensitive cunt. Recollecting the mix of both your cums. You squirm and hiss, overstimulated.

“Four more and we’ll be even.”

[stark-ironman]

Dancing in the Rain

18+ No Minors

A/N: no really many warnings, mentions of smut but that's it mainly fluff. I wanted to write a little something for my fellow Americans who are upset this past week. It's not much but it's something! Love you all.

Hugh knew the moment the rain started pouring, that your mood was fixing to go from bad to worse. You had a bad week at work and have been arguing with your family a little more than usual so Hugh suggested he grill out for dinner and it cheered you up, right up until now when the rain decided to ruin that.

"Perfect ending to a perfect week." You grumbled as you walked past the kitchen window. "It's not that bad, darling. I can still cook something if you want." Hugh suggests, trying to cheer you up. "It's fine. I think there's some soup in the freezer we can heat up." You say as you walk over to the fridge.

Hugh sighs, knowing that you're not being cold on purpose but it still hurts his feelings when you act like this towards him, especially when he's done nothing wrong. "C'mon. I have an idea." He says holding his hand out for you. "Hugh, I just want to eat and go to bed." You tell him.

"Darling, please." His voice stays soft but you can tell by his tone he's getting annoyed. You grab his hand and he opens the sliding door, pulling you outside. "Hugh!" You exclaim as the rain soaks you both immediately.

His hands wrap around your waist and pull you to him as he starts swaying side to side. "Remember our first date when we danced in the rain?" He asks, feeling you start to relax at the memory. "After the restaurant messed up our reservation and the picnic you tried to take me out to later on." You reminisce, smiling softly as he twirls you.

"Everybody said that it was a sign this wasn't meant to be but baby," Hugh dips you, holding onto tightly while he stars in your eyes, "That day only made me want more of you." You push the hair out from his forehead, kissing him deeply.

He stands you up again and you both start dancing more, giggling as he lifts you up and spins the two of you around. His chin sits on your stomach as you look down at him with a big smile.

You wrap your legs around his waist, holding his face in your hands as you admire each little wrinkle you've fallen in love with. "I'm sorry that I've been such a pain lately. I don't deserve the patience you've given me.' You softly say, hoping he can hear over the sound of the rain.

"You have every right to be mad, darling. All that matters to me is that you feel safe enough with me to let your emotions out. I will do anything to make you feel better." He tells you while your hands attempt to comb his hair back. "How about we go back in the house and I make it up to you?" You ask with a small smirk. "I think I would love that. And after you do that, I will help you out with remembering nothing but my name." His voice quickly turns deep, causing a blush to spread across your face as he carries you inside.

[creepling]

⋆.˚☀︎٠ ࣪⭑ A KNOCK AWAY

synopsis: returning packages and a broken washing machine lead you to spend the night with your hot neighbour, digger harkness.

tags: smut - minors dni. fem!reader. age difference (early 20s x late 30s). domestic elements. reader described as "shy" but not really. sexual tension. alcohol use. drinking games. awkward moments. oral (f receiving). couch sex. big dick (it's canon it's out of my control!!!). p in v. creampie. 4.4k words.

Your neighbour had a habit of ordering ludicrous amounts of packages but is never at home to collect them. It was almost every day they arrived and piled at your front door. The last few days you’ve knocked on his door to give them, but met by silence. Your small apartment is running out of room if any more decide to show up. You had been going in the afternoons once you came off work, but he either didn’t answer or wasn’t in. This time, on Saturday morning, you decided to knock on his door. Who cares if it’s the weekend, or it’s too early, you were determined to get those packages out of your house.

You knock gently at first and wait for a minute. No answer. A week. A whole week of this bullshit. Impatience clouds your sympathy, and you knock on the door harder. You hear a thud, a clank of glass, and a curse on the other side of the door. You knock again, calling up a groan of annoyance and an “I’m coming!”

The door opens, and you’re greeted by your neighbour for the first time since you moved here. He is shirtless, showing off a collection of tattoos. His mop of hair hadn’t met a comb yet; still scuffled by sleep. You could tell he was older, and you were taken aback by how attractive he was. Given in a rugged way. You half-expected a balding divorcee with a beer belly.

“You’re George, right? I live next door,” You introduce.

Eyes squint and bloodshot, he looks you up and down before nodding. “You know what time it is, sunshine? Too bloody early to be knocking on people’s doors.” He said, fighting through a hangover to communicate. The twang of an Aussie accent was the second thing to surprise you. Even with the twang of annoyance in his tone, you bite your cheek to fight off a flattered smile.

Your bashfulness forces you to ditch the defiant speech you prepared. “I’m aware of that- but I’ve tried to get a hold of you all week, but you seem to not be in during the afternoon.” You shuffle to your open door, grab one of the packages and gesture it to George, “There’s a ton of packages here for you.”

George’s annoyed face began to soften, and he let out an idle chuckle. “Shiiiiit, I forgot about those!”

He opened his door wider and began collecting the parcels from you. You got a peek inside his apartment. Your suspicions of his home were accurate, resembling what all men living alone succumb themself to; their own squaller.

“Thanks for holding onto them for me. And sorry for being cranky, hangovers, y’know?” George said, his tone now different, one more pleasant. You smile, feeling pleased that you have the chance to converse with a neighbour and know who lives next door.

“Hope you had a good night so it’s worth it,” you chuckle, taking a stack of the packages and shuffling to his door. George takes them from your hands swiftly. This left you standing by his door, looking around the living room, stumped on the small talk. You were never really good at this.

“I mean- it was alright. They just hit you more when you get older,” he dropped the remaining boxes by his door, rubbing his temples as he stretched. His abdomen extended, shifting the waistband of his pants, making you look away and stand in silence. George scratches the back of his neck as he looks at you, feeling the interaction fade to a farewell.

“I better get going, you’ve got a lot to unbox,” you say, slowly backing away.

George gets to the door, nodding and shooting you a smile. “Thanks again for keeping them safe.” You could have sworn he looked you up and down, in a different way this time. Sizing you up, for other means. Maybe it was your imagination.

You meekly wave before retreating to your apartment. With the packages gone, your eyes adjust to the clear space, and the lingering images of your neighbour hot in your thoughts.

The washing machine was stuck again, and no matter how hard you hit it, it was still broken. Today is not going well, and you were on the edge, especially since the only other machine in the block has an ‘out of order’ sign on it. You rub your hands along your face, the skin already flushed from anger. A shuffle of footsteps approaches the entrance, and you reveal yourself to see who is witnessing your self-pity.

“Useless fucking thing, ain’t it?” It was George, the first time you’ve seen him in clothes that weren’t pyjama pants with socks and slides. He looks like he’s back from work, or the gym, it is hard to tell. You did wonder what he did for a living.

“I’m lucky it broke before I put my laundry in,” You look at the bright side with heavy eyes and a half-assed smile.

“Well, I don’t wanna brag, but I do have a machine. Wouldn’t mind ya using it until they fix it,” George shrugs with a ‘no big deal’ attitude. Suddenly your neighbour was a beacon of hope, and the stress left you with a sigh of relief.

“That would be really helpful, thanks,” you pick up your laundry basket, following up the stairs. He hunched the duffle bags over his shoulder. Reaching the top of the stairs, he unlocks his front door and lets you in first, taking a look at his living room and huffing. “Sorry about the mess.”

Beer bottles and cans littering the coffee table, clothes on the floor or hanging from the couch and chairs. You take one breath and smell the stale air, keeping a straight face. “It’s okay,” You smile through it, not wanting to place judgment. Maybe he’s just a busy guy.

George quickly shows you the settings on the machine (which he wasn’t so sure about) before excusing himself to the shower. Before you could ask questions, he was dashing to the bathroom, leaving you to your own devices. You load the machine, press the button and hope for the best.

Alone in his apartment was daunting and you begin to explore. Mostly focused on the messiness, the environment nagging at your senses. Clean space, clean mind, as they say. You pick up the trash and throw it out, starting with the beer cans. Luckily you didn’t find anything too disgusting, with the odd dirty plate you could place in the sink. You open the curtains, coughing from the dust and open the window to release the smell of stale pizza and beer. Your mind is clearer, you go to wash your hands until you spot George standing by the entrance of the living room in awe. He is still in his towel, his right hand clenching the side to keep it in place, his hair wet and slicked back. You turn away immediately, looking anywhere but him, a kick of adrenaline overtaking your insides.

“Wasn’t aware I ordered room service,” he joked, amused by your embarrassment.

“I’m sorry- I should have just left and come back later for the laundry. But- I don’t know- your place looked like it needed a tidy-up. I can’t help myself, it’s a habit. God- I’m so stupid-”

“Don’t get your undies in a twist, it’s fine. I appreciate it,” George reassures, rubbing the back of his neck, “As you can see, I don’t get many visitors.”

When he closes the bedroom door to change, it’s safe for you to look again. That feeling in your stomach didn’t go away, it still brewed in the pit and crawled its way up your core. It makes you think about him again, like those sleepless nights after your first encounter, and your cheeks grow hot. Maybe this is a good time to slip out and avoid him like the plague. But what else would you be doing? Watching TV? Playing video games? All alone in your apartment, like you always are. That’s how your life has been, work, home, bed; absent of social life, of anything remotely adventurous. You keep your feet firmly on the ground, chewing your lip in thought. There was a time when you lived life on the edge, out every weekend, hooked up with people. Letting your old self come out to play wouldn’t be so bad, would it?

“Where do you keep your cleaning supplies? I could do the rest for you if you want,” you call, inching towards the bedroom door so he can hear you. He opens the door quickly, startling you, wearing casual grey sweatpants and a white tee.

“Are you like a freelance maid or something? This how you get clients?” He leaned an arm on the door frame, looking down at you. He becomes the only thing in eyesight and you freeze, giving a shy smile.

“No, I just like cleaning, that's all. You seem like you need it, being a busy guy and all.” You study his eyes, wondering if he sees right through you.

George slowly nods, then snaps his fingers, heading towards the front door and sliding his shoes on. “Tell you what, love. I have to run a few errands, while I’m out I’ll leave you to it.”

You frown, crossing your arms. “You’re just gonna leave me, your neighbour you’ve met like once, in your house alone? You trust me like that?”

He shrugs, taking one of the duffle bags full of… something. “I’ve got many weapons I can pull on you if you try anything. Plus, you’re young and don’t look that strong, so I think I can take you on.” You weren’t sure if he was joking, but there was a cheeky look in his eye that allowed you to chuckle.

“That would do it. You can trust me.”

George gives a little salute, exiting the door. “Stuff’s under the kitchen sink. Good luck!”

You look at his limited supply, an empty bottle of bleach and a mysterious liquid in a spray bottle. You decide to use your supplies, grab them from your apartment, and come back to start the work.

You collapse on the couch gasping for air. People underestimate how much energy it takes to clean, especially when cleaning George’s house. Within an hour you cleaned the living room and kitchen and hung up your laundry to dry in your apartment. The worst part was the vacuuming, as like not owning cleaning supplies, he also didn’t have a vacuum. Go figure.

George eventually returned, greeted by your efforts and your limp body sprawled on his couch. You quickly got up, hoping he didn’t mind. Heck, this guy doesn’t have a vacuum, he can’t be the judge. “So, what do you think?” You anticipate.

“You did a bloody good job, I’ll tell ya that,” a smile on his face, making you smile too. “And since ya the best neighbour on this side of Metropolis, I got ya a lil payment to say thanks.”

George pulls out a crate of beers and takeaway pizza, presenting them to you. Your eyebrows knit in confusion, but you smile at the thought. “Thanks, George.”

“Please, call me Digger, everyone calls me that,” he said, “Thought we could have a couple of beers and I’d feed ya, but I’m no chef, hence the pizza.”

“So, Digger… is this you inviting me over for dinner?” You ask, pursing your lips. He thought about it and then nodded his head. “I guess I am,” he smirks.

Pizza crusts and beer cans decorate the coffee table, the television musing low music. You laugh at a joke Digger told you, hiding your mouth to not spit all over the place. He sits low on the couch, his hands resting between his legs with a beer. With your legs close to your chest, you take a sip of beer when a silence falls between you.

“Thanks for having me, I’m having a lovely time.” You confess, a little tipsy. You get shy admitting that, focusing on the music, unaware of Digger’s eyes not leaving your sight.

“I didn’t have a college kid cleaning my house on my bingo card,” he muses teasingly, smirking at your bashful smile.

“I am not a college kid! I graduated ages ago.”

“And by ages ago you mean in the last five years?”

He chuckles at your look of defeat. “Says the guy who’s five years off getting a pension,” you tease in defence.

“I’m not that old!” He defended back, “Nowhere near it!”

“Well, you’re at least old enough to clean your own house and have a vacuum.”

“You got me there…” he says into his beer.

The silence fell between you once again, but surprisingly it was not awkward. The air was thick, and not with stale air like before. You convince yourself it’s one-sided, keeping yourself together. You had an idea, but it was juvenile. When he doesn't say anything to keep the conversation going, you go on and suggest it.

“How about we play truth or drink?”

“How old are you? Five?” He scoffs.

“We already established my age, remember? C’mon, it’ll be a good icebreaker. Don’t you wanna get to know your friendly neighbour?” You nudge his arm playfully, realising you’ve been going that a lot since you had a drink. Mostly when he told a joke. You try not to cringe, realising your inferiority. He probably thinks you’re immature, and you suddenly see yourself as a fool. But when he turns his body towards you, giving you his full attention while cracking open another beer, you feel a little better about yourself.

“Who’s asking first?” He asks.

You volunteered since you suggested playing. You turn towards him, fighting through a fit of giggles, liking the way his eyes smile at you. He has nice eyes, light in colour, a mix of blue and grey with crow's feet winging the sides.

“Okay, let’s start easy. How long have you lived on the block?” You ask.

“‘Bout five months, I’d say,” he says.

“Do you move around a lot?”

“Oi, thought you ask one question at a time?”

“Yeah, sorry. Just curious,” you dart your eyes to his smirking lips before looking away.

“To answer your other question, I do move around a bit. It’s a job thing.”

You look back at him, catching his stare, the one that never seems to fade from you. You like the way he stares at you, so attentive like he refuses to have you out of his sight. It’s the type of stare that makes someone feel special.

“My turn,” he chirps, “are you always this shy around people?”

“What? I’m not shy,” you scoff.

“Really? You’re not shy?”

“What happened to starting easy?”

“No, you said that. I didn’t. I never start easy,” he says haughtily.

You roll your eyes, taking the beer can to your lips and taking a sip. Digger scoffs in shock, “No way are you drinking to that.”

“It’s a ridiculous question, plus I technically did answer the question. I’m not shy.”

Digger shakes his head in disappointment, breaking eye contact to chuckle into his hand. You narrow your eyes, readying the next question.

“Do you have a wife and kids?” You ask.

Digger didn’t act like you struck a nerve, but he wasn’t laughing anymore. He shook his head, and you take that as an answer, not wanting to press further. Yet, he begins to speak, in a tone softer than the one you’ve been getting used to;

“I know at my age I probably should, but it’s never worked out, y’know? The whole love thing I’ve never gotten the hang of.”

You resonate with him, meekly returning a smile. “Me either.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Digger said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, you’re good-looking. Woulda bet somebody snagged ya by now.”

You can’t help but chuckle, hearing how wrong his words are. “I guess I’ve gotten close before, but it was never meant to be.”

Digger nods in agreement like he is in the same boat. You had a strong urge to move closer to him, but resort to fidgeting with a thread on the coach. “Who’s turn is it?”

“Mine,” Digger returns his gaze to you. It was more intense, and you feel him all over you. As you grow the courage to meet his eyes, you see them trailing from your lips to meet you, his icy eyes darkening and lips parting as he readies his words.

“How would you feel about kissing me?”

Your stillness speaks volumes to him, and from the look of shock in your eyes, Digger’s smile fades and turns sour. He hides his face in his hands, cursing under his breath.

“Fuck- Just drink to that, it was bloody stupid,” his self-depreciation eats at you and you try and find the words to explain yourself. He was right, you were shy, and it got in the way of your feelings. So much for being the big flirt like you planned.

“No, it’s fine, honestly-”

He cuts you off, “I just thought- why else would wanna hang out with an old fuck like me? Keep my packages, clean my house,” he groans out a sigh, “and the way you look at me, fuck, it’s been driving me insane all day.”

“Digger-” you catch his attention, softening your face, and placing your beer on the coffee table. You shift your body closer to his, your movement swift but gentle. “I’d like it if you kissed me.”

He blinks, adjusting his eyes to the proximity, noticing the small details of your features, the softness of your lips. He swallows back his nerves, “Nah- you’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

There is only one way to prove him wrong, and you did it by making the first move. You press your lips against him, and you're struck with his immediate touch as he engulfs you in his arms. Your hands snake up his chest to the back of his neck, deepening the kiss as he beckons you to press your body against him with his firm hold. He grins into the kiss at the sound of your whimpers, holding the small of your waist and guiding you to his lap. You go with the motion, swinging your leg around and straddling him, enamoured by the hold he has on you. The makeout was sloppy, tipsy on beer and getting more drunk on each other’s lips. Digger’s kisses were firm and deep, his chapped lips coated in your sweet spot as he glided his tongue along yours. His hands lay haven on your asses, rubbing his callous palm around the fabric of your pants, enchanting your hips to move ever so slightly.

“Ain’t so shy now, are ya?” He grunts into your ear, migrating his lips down your neck, sucking and nibbling on your faint skin. You see stars, closing your eyes in bliss, your fingers tugging at his shirt and fighting off the urge to rip it off. He takes the time to remove his t-shirt with your eager assistance, latching onto you once you discard it.

“Please, I need you,” you plead. You gaze down at him, your stare both close and far. His bucking hips invite your crotch to feel his length, the tip of his bulge grinding against your thigh.

He whispers to you, “Tell me what you want.”

 “Use me, I know you want to,” you taunt, enjoying the light that ignites in his eyes, his grip tighter on your skin.

“You’ll regret saying that, but I bet you can handle it,” he jesters, pulling your hair to expose your neck, his lips latching back onto your sweet skin. His other hand pushes your top over your breasts, exposing your hardening nipples. Licking towards your nipples, sucking on them gently and cupping your tits in his hands, grazing his teeth when you grind down on his erection.

Digger, hungry for more of you, lays you down on the couch. His eyes demand your attention, taking time to pull down your pants and underwear, drenched in your arousal. He lowers his head to your cunt, prying your legs open as you try to hide how wet you were.

“Don’t hide from me, love, show me how pretty you are,” he muses, admiring your glistening walls, lapping them tenderly with the tip of his fingers. Relishing in your squirms, he gazes at you under his lashes. “Fuck, you’re drenched.”

Your hands grip his hair when his tongue makes contact with your sensitive walls, his prominent nose snug on your clit as he eats you out. His movements are deep and steady, keeping himself in place between your quivering thighs, refusing to come up for breath as a rising feeling of release fills your insides. Shifting his tongue from your walls to your clit, his nose taking place not to neglect your pleasure, his eyes checking your reactions as his pride swelled from your raptured state. He takes a breath to tease you in between, his hoarse voice wavering against your heat, “Look at you, getting so worked up for me.”

“’m so close,” that was music to Digger’s ears, egging him on to keep up the pace.

Your whimpers rise into moans, and your thighs shiver under his grip and come undone. Digger doesn’t stop, pressing a firm hand on your stomach, keeping you in place so he rides out your high. You’re flushed in humility, but fuck it feels amazing. You break a sweat, shivering at the cooling of your hot skin, sighing in relief when Digger finally relaxes his hold on you. His face meets yours, your arousal coating the stubble on his chin and spreading to his chops. He is ferocious and light-headed – as if drunk on the taste of you.

“Hope you’ve still got some spunk in ya,” he pants, “I’m as stiff as a board here.”

Digger invites your hand to feel his erection. You didn’t think he could be harder than he was before, but he comes full of surprises. He slings the waistband of his trousers down and his cock springs free, twitching at the touch of your flinching fingers.

“Jesus fucking Christ-” Blessed by the man himself, his size was insane. You straighten in intimidation.

“I’ll go slow, okay? Just- fuck- I’m bursting at the seams here,” he begs, cupping your cheek with a reassuring hand.

You nod with a morbid curiosity, unable to deny the instinct to have him inside you, to feel every inch of him. Digger litters you in kisses, sloppy and idle as he dampens your cheeks and lips. Opening your legs wide, sucking in a breath, you watch as he lines his cock to your entrance. There was no fuss in sliding inside you, your dripping cunt lubing his tip and coating his shaft, the feeling of him inside you more filling than painful. It sets a spark in your mind, your eyes distant, the twitch of his cock against your walls melting your senses.

An unexpected moan escapes Digger’s lips, but he is attentive enough to coo for your attention, holding your face and bringing you back to earth.

“You still with me, hun?” He chuckles at your dazed look, trying to keep himself together as you tighten around him. You blink back to reality and wrap your legs around him, mewling at the slow thrusts coming into you. You eventually nod a reply, straining your neck to witness his cock buried inside you to train your hole for his massive size. He takes advantage of your position, locking a hand behind your head and picking up the pace. He is smitten by your squeaks. His rough hand clenches your hip, setting out to fuck you good. As you will soon learn, Digger has a habit of getting carried away. You learn a lot of dirty things about him that both shock you and fill you with sweetly sick lust.

Digger has you bent over the arm of the couch, his cock pummelling in and out of your abused cunt, muffling your feral moans with a hand clasped over your mouth. He arches your back and presses his lips against your ear, reminding you that he can see right through you.

“Is this what you wanted? To fuck you; get you drunk on my fat dick. Bet you didn’t think I had it in me.”

“You’re so good, so ‘fucking good,” you moan, your eyes glued to him with lust, a sly smile across your face. Digger sticks two fingers into your mouth, teasing your tongue to swirl around them, smirking at your eagerness.

“Shit, that’s enough to make me finish,” he says in a low voice, “And you wouldn’t want me cumming inside you, would ya?”

The way you clench around his dick and the sidious look in the dim light suggest the opposite. “No, come inside me,” you seal the deal.

“You’re so bloody dirty.” Digger’s eyes turn dark, his hand wrapping around your neck, rutting into you faster and harder than before. You see stars, giving into the numbing pleasure you succumb to. A dumbfound smile stretches across your lips once you feel the warmth of Digger’s seed filling your cunt, hitting against your womb. His weight falls on you momentarily, leaving kisses along your back while his energy is slowly sucked out of him. His cock slips out and before his heavy eyes close over, he gazes at the cum dripping from your slit, groping your ass for a better view.

Digger gathers his senses, only noticing you struggling to get up from your stiff knees. He brings you onto his lap, soothing your legs and resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, that was something…” He chuckles, “Ya think we got a little carried away?”

“I think I’ll never be able to walk again,” you joke, yet anticipated the next few days entailing leg pain.

He felt guilty, knowing to make up for it he would need more than pizza and beer. He continues to sooth your legs, nuzzling his nose into your hair.

“How’s about I run you a bath?” He suggests.

There he is again, that beacon of hope. He is going to find it hard to get rid of you now. “That’d be amazing.”

[waldau-archived]

hihi could you write a fic with the prompts

it's very rude to stare + you look better in my clothes than i do with Vernon

hey, good lookin' — chwe hansol | 1,135 words | fluff

feel free to sue me because i couldn't find any other way to write this except for f2l. thank you for requesting!!!

gender neutral reader. warnings: reader has slightly long hair.

“i think he hates me,” you say, leaning down to wash your hair in the sink for the last time. you’d almost forgotten how annoying it was to get sand out of your hair.

“no, he doesn’t,” vernon says, from where he’s sitting on the closed lid of the toilet seat, watching you as you work.

“how do you know that?”

“i know what he’s like when he hates someone, and that’s not what he was like with you. it was just a mistake. you saw how he tripped before he tripped you, right?”

“that’s not good enough,” you grumble, turning off the tap. cold water runs down your neck, adding to the cold you’re already feeling from your wet clothes sticking to your skin. “he could’ve just fallen by himself. he didn’t need to pull me down, too. why did he do that?”

“i don’t know. but he doesn’t hate you, i promise.”

you stand up straight, an idea striking you. “i know why.”

“hmm?”

“he’s just jealous i’m your other best friend.”

vernon lets out an unrestrained snort at that, his eyes crinkling with amusement. “then he’d also be jealous of the fact that i have eleven other best friends, apart from you guys.”

“yeah, but we’re like your…best best friends. right?”

“right,” he says, a smile on his face. “my best best friends who hang out even without me sometimes. seungkwan definitely hates you.”

“ugh.” you hate when vernon makes sense, which is almost always. “then it’s probably because that ice cream in the fridge i ate was his.”

“maybe.”

“how am i supposed to know what belongs to who? don’t you guys label your food when you keep leftovers in the fridge?”

“nah. we’re kinda lazy.”

“i’m never going to understand how you didn’t end up killing each other over the years,” you say shaking your head.

“it's the power of friendship,” vernon says, deadpan.

you focus on not looking at him as you rub your hair with the towel he’s given you. you also try not to focus on the fact that you’re alone in the bathroom with your best friend who also happens to be your crush. even if he’s just watching you towel your hair dry. you probably look like a sad, wet puppy.

how romantic.

“okay, now what?” you ask, gesturing to yourself. your clothes are still as wet as they were twenty minutes ago. “think you can chuck me in the dryer for a while? till i get dry?”

vernon gets to his feet. “don’t worry, i have a spare set of clothes for this exact reason.”

“seungkwan pushing you into the ocean being the reason?”

“accidents,” he calls out. you wait patiently for him as he gets you a shirt and sweats, both of which are perfectly oversized.

it’s not the first time you’ve worn his clothes, thanks to your sleepovers or that one time you turned up to his house drenched in the rain, but it never fails to make you feel the same way — tingly, shy, feeling like someone you’re not.

you step out of the bathroom after giving yourself one last look to find vernon thumbing through his phone. you’re going to have to get ready for dinner now if you want to be on time.

you catch vernon’s gaze in the mirror as you comb your hair, making sure it’s not dripping into his clothes, but he doesn’t stop looking at you even when you move across the room to dry the towel on a chair. it’s only when you throw the towel at his head that he finally blinks out of his daze. it’s weird.

you know he zones out sometimes, thinking about something else while staring at nothing in particular. this is different. he’s focusing. on you. till you got him to stop, at least.

“it’s very rude to stare,” you say, picking up your towel. “don’t you know that?”

“sorry,” vernon says, licking his lips. “i didn’t mean to. you just…”

“what?”

“nothing. sorry,” he says, pocketing his phone. “think we’ll get late if we don’t leave now.”

you feel odd standing in his room, in his clothes. he’s never looked at you like that before. “do i…look weird? is that it?”

vernon turns to look up at you, a frown on his features. “no. of course not. you’ve never looked weird. if anything, you look good.”

oh. he’s never said that before, either.

“…even with my hair all weird?”

“even then. come here?” he asks, and you comply, standing in front of him where he’s sitting. he holds his hoodie up to you. “it’s still cold outside. wear this.”

there’s something…intimate about wearing his hoodie. it’s something he uses every single day, it’s one of his favourite possessions, and he doesn’t part with it so easily. still, you don’t question it as you slip it on, feeling warmer the moment you wear it.

and he’s looking at you again. it ignites a weird feeling in your stomach, like he’s looking at something you’re not aware of.

“vernon, i swear if you don’t tell me what’s up i’ll ask seungkwan to push—”

“you look better in my clothes than i do,” vernon says, not breaking eye contact. “i never realized that before.”

“i…what? don’t stay stuff like that,” you chide him, feeling your skin heat up.

“why not?”

“because it sounds like a...pickup line.”

“it doesn’t have to mean anything if you don’t want it to.” his eyes are fixed on the way you’re playing with the sweater paws, and it makes you want to say something completely outrageous. enough to destroy your friendship.

“what’s that supposed to mean?” you ask, instead.

“just that you look good in my clothes. nothing more.”

“that’s not something friends just…say to each other,” you mumble.

“that would be an issue if i wanted us to be just friends, wouldn’t it?”

“you…” you turn to look at him. there’s a neutral expression on his face, but you can tell he’s nervous, the way his brown eyes are looking at you. “want to be…more?”

“if i do?”

how is he so nonchalant about this?

“i won’t say no,” you say, reaching out for his hand. he gives it to you instantly. “but…i don’t want this to be a prank, either.”

“it’s not,” vernon assures you, squeezing your hand. “took me long enough to get here.” he pulls you down onto his lap. “and for the record, seungkwan told me he had a plan to help me confess,” he says, looking up at you apologetically. “i just didn’t expect him to do that.”

your heart’s racing, but you somehow manage to thread a hand through vernon’s hair. “guess we’ll have to get him all that ice cream back, then.”

“see? he doesn’t hate you.”

[barcaatthemoon]

red || jenni hermoso x reader ||

you ask jenni to stop.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

it's not really smutty, but still.

jenni's hands were gripping your hips so tightly that you swore you could feel the bruises forming already. she had been rough with you all day, starting before the two of you had even gotten out of bed. then, it had been more of a playful rough housing. now, she was thrusting her hips into you as hard as she could to make sure that you could feel every inch of her.

it wasn't what you had expected whenever she had taken you back to the bedroom. you were no stranger to jenni's moods, but she wasn't usually this rough for no reason. jenni wasn't jealous, nobody had been around either one of you today. it had been a bit of a lazy day, with the exception of jenni trying to annoy you throughout the afternoon. if anything, you should have been the one to be a bit aggressive in bed.

and in a way, you had been. you had held jenni's head down in between your legs earlier. that wasn't enough to warrant jenni fucking you like this though. it was fairly indulgent, and usually, you'd be fine with that, but it didn't feel right.

"jenni, red. i'm red," you whined. it was quiet, just barely a whisper. you hated interrupting jenni whenever she was focused, but you couldn't take any more. a part of you had said it so quietly that you thought she wouldn't hear you, but jenni was pulling out of you and rolling you onto your back as quickly as she could.

"what's wrong?" jenni asked immediately. her eyes were wide with fear, and you immediately were engulfed in guilt. you hated making jenni feel bad, especially whenever you didn't even know what was wrong. "did i hurt you?"

"n-no, it's not that," you reassured her. jenni looked absolutely distraught as she mentally combed over every little thing she had done that day. you had been a bit snappy with her before dinner, but that wouldn't have caused this. jenni had apologized to you long before the two of you made your way back here.

"is there anything that i can get or do for you?" jenni asked you. she was gentle as she reached towards you. you let her hand come to rest on your arm. slowly, jenni began to pull you into her arms. you hummed happily at the feeling of her holding you. it was soft and nice in all the ways that you realized that you had been craving jenni.

"i'm sorry," you apologized. jenni pulled back a bit. there was a puzzled look on her face. her eyebrows were furrowed deeply as she pouted a little. it was something you usually would have teased her about, rubbing out the furrow as you joked about wrinkles. tonight, you didn't feel like joking, instead going straight for clarity. "i stopped us. i don't think i can keep going. i'm sorry, jenni."

"you have nothing to apologize for, my vida. i'm sorry for not paying better attention to you, okay?" jenni pulled back just enough to force you to look at her.

"but you wanted this. it's been so long," you whispered.

"you tell me to stop, and we stop. i don't care what's happening. all i care about is you. do you understand me?" jenni asked you. you nodded, having completely understood her words. whether or not you took them to heart was a completely different thing. "i need to hear you say it and mean it."

"you care about me. if i need to stop, it's okay to tell you. you won't be mad, because you care." it wasn't word for word, which jenni appreciated. the two of you had been working on properly communicating needs, something that jenni felt was testing her patience. she didn't understand how someone so lovely and caring could be so unkind to themselves.

"thank you. i love you," jenni muttered against your forehead as she pressed a kiss to it.

"i love you too," you told her. jenni was absolutely beaming at your words, and you didn't have to see her to know. the way that she shook you a little as she hugged you told you everything that you needed to know. "what now?"

"that, my dear, is up to you. what would you like to happen?" jenni asked you. you thought a lot about it before deciding on just laying back with her. jenni got out of bed and grabbed some clothes for the two of you. she fished through her side of the closet for a sweatshirt for you to sleep in, along with the softest pair of underwear that jenni could find. you happily accepted the boxer briefs, not commenting on jenni only grabbing a sports bra for herself.

"can you hold me please?" you knew not to be nervous, but it wasn't easy for you to ask for things. jenni smiled as she climbed into bed with you, clad in a black sports bra and a pair of grey joggers. you were pretty sure that the pants were yours since they were both a little loose and too short on jenni.

"of course. i'll always hold you. you don't even have to ask." jenni pressed a kiss to the top of your head as the two of you positioned yourselves comfortably. you laid with your head on jenni's chest and your leg thrown over her body. she was completely trapped between the bed and your body, covered by the comforter, just how she liked it. "good night, mi amor."

"night jenni," you hummed happily.

[sapphistically]

the leather jacket

read on ao3 | masterlist/s

description: you’re having a bad day and spike runs into you, a conversation sparks and you realise you might actually feel something for him.

relationship: spike & reader

a/n: in my mind reader is fem, but idk if i specified it anywhere? they are wearing a dress, but that’s mentioned once, in the beginning.

wc: 1140

You sat down on a bench, it was dark, there was only one lantern a couple meters away from where you were. You felt the cold air caressing your bare arms and calves, as your skirt reached a little below your knees. It was hard, adjusting to living like this, living and haunting demons while you had your own demons haunting you, for a good while now, life was just, too much. Buffy’s life seemed to be piecing together, Willow met Tara and was obviously in love, Xander started to work and had Anya, you were just… there.

Wishes and what ifs filled your thoughts, you wanted to go back to high school, when it was just the Scooby Gang, when you had Cordelia, who you were close with at the time, you two were always outcasted to an extent, she was especially after Xander cheated on her, that’s when you distanced yourself more from him, while Willow always seemed honestly sorry, he never did. It was never the same after that, while you enjoyed spending time with them, you just never got that close again and your life seemed to go down hill from that ever since.

You watched people passing by in distance, you felt so empty, like someone cut a whole in you that could never be filled, today was especially bad and all everyone cared about was demons and other strange creatures of the dark to fight. A set of footsteps caught your attention, it was getting closer to you, you looked over to see a face you recognised, but haven’t seen in a while.

His hair was still platinum, combed back, he had his leather jacket on per usual and a funeral like — all black — outfit. Your eyes stopped at his face, he tilted his head, as he just stood there for a moment, his gaze lingering on your face, you could swear you saw his eyes soften for a brief moment, before they went back to being cold as usual.

“What’s wrong?” He said and the question took you aback for a second, you parted your lips ready to answer, but ended up biting your own tongue in time.

“What do you want, Spike?” Your voice was calm, almost emotionless, a chill run down your spine as the wind blew again, creating goosebumps on your skin.

“What? What do I want?” Spike let out a scoff, as he relaxed more, now standing in a less of a dull position. “Do I always have to want something?”

“Well, you usually do so… What is it?”

He scoffed again, you could feel your hands clenching slightly at that, he was bothering you and now wouldn’t even say what he wanted.

You just focused back on the people you could see in the windows of the dorm rooms, those passing nearby or those going out, probably to party. You kept a mental note of the fact that he was still there, his gaze was lingering on you and you could feel it. He eventually moved to sit down next to you, you glanced at him, your gaze paused on him, as you noticed his eyes softened again.

“If you’re hoping to see Buffy, she’s not coming.”

“Oh right, the slayer…What a loss.” He said, his tone more playful now, you just glanced between him and the passers by.

Silence fell between you two for a moment, he was just… sitting there and so were you, you didn’t really mind or care as long as he didn’t annoy you too much, it was quite nice, having company wasn’t so bad, even if it meant his company.

“Something is wrong.” Spike said, catching your attention, you turned to him, this time focusing on him. “What’s wrong, hm? Maybe I can help out.”

“I don’t need your help. Or want it.”

“Gee, no wonder you’re sitting alone.”

Ouch.

Your lips lightly pouted, it was instinctual, your head moved down as you looked at him with hurt in your eyes.

“Well, you’re sitting with me. So…”

“So what? You’re not alone? You’re in my company, a bloody vampires and not your ‘my little pony’ friend group?”

You let out a sight answering with a simple, “No.”

He took out a flask bottle out of his coat, he took a long sip, moving it towards you with a raise of a brow.

“What is it?”

“Apple juice— What do you think it is?” He scoffed.

“God you’re insufferable.” You mumbled taking it from his hand and taking a huge sip yourself.

It didn’t take long for you to get more talkative, you had a pretty weak head when it came to alcohol, you were shivering by then, the cold becoming unbearable. You began to think how cool was the fact that the cold couldn’t affect him, he was dead after all and probably cold himself as well… you stopped your train of thought there, because why on earth were you thinking if he was hot— warm or cold.

“You’re shivering.” He noticed, his voice was deep, he took his jacket off. He moved it onto your shoulders, allowing you to adjust it, so you did, doing your best to cover up as much as you could, it just ended with you putting it on fully.

You smiled lightly at him, your cheeks were flushed from the alcohol, “Thanks.”

“So you were saying…” He clears his throat as he takes another sip of the drink.

“Right… Um… What was I…” You frowned your brows, your mind was fuzzy, each thought went in and out within seconds, not letting you to focus on anything. He seemed to notice you struggled with putting it together so he just spoke for now.

“Well truth be told, the… whatever you called them gang… they are not as half as cool as you are, I mean, think of that prat Xander.”

You just nodded in an agreement, there was something in common between you, a human, struggling mentally and a blood thirsty, old as time vampire — your hate for Xander Harris.

“I— I don’t know…” You shook your head, drinking more, the flask was almost empty. “It’s all just… I’m just… Tired.” You looked down as you spoke, voicing it all felt a little too real.

“God this is so depressing.”

“Is it? I think that’s just you, love.” He smiles lightly at you, making you smile, he had a pretty smile… wait what?

God.

“You know what… I- I need to go.” You got up, giving him back the flask, unable to say much you just… took off. You could hear him yelling a couple of “hold up” after you, but you kept on walking, you eventually reached your dorm room, you walked inside.

You took your leather jacket off, but it wasn’t yours, was it?

[atxxzist]

spring in our hearts | c.s (preview)

summary: the spring where you finally fall in love and experience everything that comes with it; the good and the bad

pairing: choi san x f!reader

genre: angst, slice of life, suggestive, romance, fluff?

release date: sometime around next week, idk

and he probably didn’t push too hard because it’s almost like he knew you’re gonna be there; waking up before it’s even 7 and sitting at the same table from before, watching guests go in and out of the room hoping to catch the boy that sent you the text last night.

his face lights up the same as you when he enters, waving in the air and heading your direction, you really shouldn’t feel so nervous but excited at the sight of him walking.

“hey!” he greets cheerfully, sliding into the seat across with a smile.

“good morning,” you return, hands curled in your lap and happy he can’t see them because you wonder what he’d think.

“how you’d sleep?” he ask the same time he combs over his morning hair, never in your life has someone looked so good doing so, you didn’t even think it was possible.

“good,” you manage to answer with composure. “and you?”

“alright.” he shrugs. “wooyoung was just mostly drunk and annoying from last night’s dinner.”

a small giggle also laced with empathy escapes from you. “well i’m sorry to hear. i hope today will be better.”

he nods. “hopefully.” then realizing you haven’t even gotten your food, talking in a concerned tone, “don’t tell me you were waiting for me.”

“i was,” you say. “don’t worry about it. i’m not that hungry. the dinner last night kept me filled plenty.”

“if you say so…” he lingers a bit before continuing, “should we go now?”

“sure.”

you also get close to the same thing you got last time, with the exception that they’ve switched out pancakes for waffles, getting a question from san after sitting down about your food choices.

“well, i really only eat korean foods,” you tell him. “i’m not too fond of anything else besides what’s on my plate right now.”

“ahh. so you’re a picky eater?”

“somewhat. that’s why yeosang hates going out to eat with me.”

san lets out a quiet snicker, something more mischievous bubbling in his eyes that you don’t read into.

“you talk about yeosang a lot… does yours and his relationship ever bothers your other friend?” he asks, the question stopping you from sipping your coffee.

the friendly and harmless tone still in the air but you can’t hide the fact the question flusters you a little.

“well, me and yeosang have known each other for a while… even before grace, so she understands that we don’t see each other like that at all.”

san quirks his lips and nods, taking your words for it.

“why?” you speak again. “do we give out that kind of vibe?” you ask worriedly, because you would never want to unintentionally (or intentionally) hurt grace in any ways. on your life you have never seen yeosang for more than the annoying middle schooler you couldn’t get rid of.

but as san shakes his head, you feel a sense of relief, watching as a light smirk creep up on his face.

“just wondering,” he says, so calmly but eerie at the same time, you can’t quite grasp the intention. but then something else comes over, and you forget all about deciphering san’s answer; not really wanting to but letting the intrusive thoughts win.

“and that girl you were with yesterday? you guys together?” you ask, no menance in your voice; just a natural curioisity because you wanna know… not for any reasons deeper.

“she’s a friend,” he answers fast and casual. “i know her from my previous school because we were under the same program and have similar interests and whatnot.”

“i see,” you mumble, a light smile anyone would’ve missed because you don’t wanna admit to anyone why the fact brings you a sense of comfort.

but it doesn’t cut it with grace.

“that’s what they always say!” she cries dramatically, after storming into your room when she was finally done sleeping past noon and the events of yesterday hit her.

but you don’t have any reasons to doubt san, even if you love your best friend and wanna take her words for it, you don’t think it’s fair to assume someone you barely know is trying to take your man that isn’t really your man.

“for all you know, they could be fucking behind doors.”

“grace!” you yell your friend’s name at such accusation, your ears turning red at even the thought of it.

“sorry,” she mutters, but barely meaning it, only shrugging off what needed to be said.

“i just don’t want you to be hurt in the end,” she says, voice a kind of sympathy you didn’t even know you need.

because yes, you think san is handsome. he is kind and unusually attentive to you for whatever reasons, and seeing someone else by his side made your stomach queasy all for the wrong reasons… but you don’t feel justified in feeling a certain way just because your friend says you should.

you’re not with him and you still don’t even know if you wanna be with him.

“trust me, grace,” you assure her, a confident smile settling on your lips that she only frowns to. “i’ll be fine.”

and as much as she wants to believe it, it’s hard not to doubt knowing the way you are.

how, though you’ve navigated through life barely getting romantically involved with boys, it wouldn’t be difficult for someone like san to get you wrapped around his fingers if he wants to.

the guy way too charming; how he just casually checks all criteria from looks to personality, the girl herself rooting for you and him initially, but quickly rethinking the choice after last night.

[beomboomboom]

Cure for me

genre: fluff, established relationship

pairing: Junhui x reader

summary: When you discover Jun has been hiding his sickness from you for the past week, to say you're furious when you find out would be an understatement. But Jun already feels terrible as is, so rather than unleashing your fury on him, you try to cure his pain through the best way you know, cuddles.

warnings: cuteness overload :D

note: Please tell me if there is anything I should fix! Enjoy reading the fic <33

"You told me that you were okay! You promised!" You shouted, livid after finding out how sick Jun has been for the past week. Even more furious at the fact that he didn't even think of telling you he wasn't feeling alright.

Sure, you could feel something was off. Jun hadn't been responding to your text messages as quick as he normally did. Jun had also made a ton of excuses when you offered to go to his house to check up on him. But when you questioned him about his suspicious behavior, he simply brushed you off. "I'm fine, I promise," Jun had texted.

Liar.

Jun was not fine.

When you finally went to his house to check up on him, he had a 103 degree fever and could only stumble against a wall whenever he tried to walk.

"Sit up," you order gently as you hold a bowl of warm soup with a spoon, and sit down next to Jun's bed.

"Thanks love, but I'm fine. I'm not even that sick. You didn't need to come here," Jun weakly mumbles in protest as he sits up slowly and takes the warm bowl from your hands.

"You idiot. You're obviously not fine. Do you even realize how high your fever is right now?" You say, annoyed by the fact that Jun has the audacity to think he's fine and doesn't need help, when he so obviously does.

You're about to lecture him further, but once you see Jun start to have a coughing fit and groan in pain afterwards, you instantly become worried.

"Let me get the cough medicine," you say, your tone gentle and worried as you pat Jun on the back a few times and go on a search for the medicine box.

When you finally return, this time with the medicine box in hand, you quickly take out the cough medicine and measure out the correct dose. Once you feed Jun the medicine, you quickly tell him lay down and take some time to rest and recuperate. "It's for your own good,' you say, laughing lightly as you tuck him into bed.

But just as you're about to stand up and leave, you feel a hand latch around your wrist.

"Sorry I didn't tell you I was feeling sick. I didn't want to be a burden to you." Jun blurts out shyly, embarrassed.

Your eyes immediately soften upon hearing his confession. "Oh, Jun. You'll never be a burden for me," you say as you cup your hands around Jun's face lovingly. You give him a fond smile before continuing on saying, "I always love taking care of you. Here, move over, let me cuddle with you, maybe you'll feel a little better."

"Wha-," Jun splutters out, flabbergasted. "But I'm sick, I don't want you to get sick too." He says as he begins to protest, not wanting to risk your health for his own comfort and enjoyment.

"It's okay, you're worth getting sick for. Besides, if I do get sick, we can be sick together." You say while smiling teasingly.

Jun sighs then pauses for a minute, contemplating, before reluctantly lifting up his blanket so that you can join him under the covers.

The second you lay down next to Jun, he pulls you close to his chest and envelopes you into a tight and warm hug. You yelp in surprise at first before turning around to face Jun as you give him a small peck on his nose. "You're silly," you say with a little giggle.

"You love it," Jun teasingly replies as he combs his fingers through your hair and gazes at your face lovingly. He then places his hands on your cheeks and litters small little kisses all over your face.

"I-" you mutter, speechless, as a light blush travels across your cheeks. You then let out an embarrassed squeal before turning your back to Jun to hide your pink face.

But Jun, as flirty as ever, simply comes closer from behind you and slowly wraps his hands around your waist. He even has the audacity to then rest his head on your shoulder and nuzzle his nose into your neck.

"Does this make you feel better?" You teasingly ask as you turn your face upwards to face Jun.

"Whenever I'm with you, I feel better," Jun admits while giving you a sheepish smile, before continuing on to say, "You're the perfect cure for me."

[ghostykapi]

are we on tonight? [are you mine tonight?]

son chaeyoung & fem!reader // simp

"hey hotshot, come here often?"

son chaeyoung, how on earth will you describe her?

for starters, you can say that she's annoying.

ever since you met her, your life has been turned into ways you don't know how to even pinpoint. always by your side, always ready to distract you from important work, always ready to cause chaos and ultimately always ready to give you a headache

"chaeyoung what did you do this time?"

she's giggling, reapplying the lipstick on her lips "stained your white top to have my kiss marks as an experiment"

"SON CHAEYOUNG"

despite being the most annoying clingy person you ever met, others are shocked to find out that you are not together yet

"unnie?" tzuyu's curious tone cuts you out from your preparation of your makeup kit

"yes tzu?" you turn around, only to find not only her, but the rest of the group, minus the little tiger who's trying to find a vending machine, looking at you also in curiosity

"are you sure you aren't dating chaeyoung?" she asks innocently, but you swear you see her sport that tiny little smirk

"what! no" you huff, ears turning red out of embarrassment as everyone gives out noises of disbelief "don't be absurd tzutzu, she's too small to be my type"

"i heard that!" you hear a roar from the hallway "you're not that taller than me!"

despite that though, it doesn't stop your heart from beating out of your chest every time you have to fix her makeup, it doesn't stop your eyes staying on her lips for a bit too long than necessary, it doesn't stop her from grazing her thumb over your lips when it's her turn, it doesn't stop the want in both of your eyes when you make eye contact with her

so how will you describe chaeyoung? annoying? cute? hot? small?

you don't know, maybe that's why it always comes to you as a surprise that she can be a romantic and protective to you despite the lack of talking about the tension or the feelings you both have

"that’s a horrible pickup line. back off" chaeyoung slips her arm around your waist, effectively making the male idol immediately take a step back, shocked to see a senior up close

"chaeyoung-sunbaenim!" he immediately bows, despite him being taller he looks like he would shrink at the glare she's sending his way "i-i'm sorry i didn't know-"

she doesn't even let him finish as she tugs you away, towards the exit of that christmas party and into the parking lot

"chaeyoung" you try to snap her out of it, but her firm grip is what kept you both moving towards the van "c-chaeyoung the driver is still upstairs we-"

she also doesn't let you finish what you want to say before kissing you, her hands tugging on your clothes to get you closer to her heart

even if you are perplexed by her behavior, you don't deny what a part of you had always wanted. you kiss her back, letting her push your body up against the van's door and your hands combing and gripping her hair

“chaeng” another weak attempt to get her to snap out of it, and another reaction of her simply kissing you, now on your neck “c-chae oh god baby”

for a brief moment she pauses, eyes looking up at you with a little bit more clarity. surely she must have already drank some liquor for her to act this way, but you barely saw her take a sip. the only thing she’d be wanting to drink in is your moans and you.

“again” her hair is out of place and lipstick smuggled against yours. the sight brings you to need more “say it again”

“baby” a kiss

“my baby” another kiss

“fuck you’re my baby right?” a needy kiss

“mmmmm so cute, my cute baby” an embarrassed but still needy kiss

every time you say it, it drives chaeyoung crazy, it doesn’t stop her from kissing you even when you get tired and the kisses turn into kisses on any exposed part of your skin. she doesn’t stop even if the rest of twice and the driver finally show up to a lipstick stained makeup artist and their tiger with a grin

“damn” jihyo wants to scold her, she really does, but she’s no better with lipstick stains on her neck and sana with a even wider grin with smudged makeup by her side “all right, let’s go home now. chaeyoung behave”

“i behave!” she protests, shaking your arm to get you to defend her “tell them y/n/n”

“you don’t baby” you give her another kiss to shut her up, effectively making her go quiet and lovestruck

“ok i’ll do my best to behave”

“ha simp”

“shut up unnie!!”

[riverbutghost]

Can you write a one shot where Y/n is self harming and how Simon is reacting to that?

This is my first request!!!!!!!

Also, I’m so so so sorry for this, this isn’t how i expected it to turn out, also I have a severe migraine right now and can’t look at screen too much. I wrote it super fast. Apologies, and promise that i’ll write more soon.

Go ahead and request with an angst prompt !!

Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x GN!Reader

Summary: You used to self harm, but after attending military you stopped. Certain someone made you break, though.

Warnings: Graves is an asshole, no touching but cat calling?, Self harm, depression topics, kind of ooc simon, mentions of suicide…

Even though you were feeling down lately, your friends were always there for you. You knew it.

Your mental health wasn’t always perfect, and you knew it would take a while to heal. But even after healing, you knew it would always come back.

“It’s okay, you’re okay. I’m glad you chose me to vent about it.”

It was always easy to vent to Soap, he would always make you chuckle or smile.

“It’s cool y’know? I know why you’re feeling this way. But it will always get better.”

Gaz would pat your hair, cuddle you a little like a brother and give you a chocolate. He would make you smile.

Simon wasn’t there usually. And no, you wouldn’t seek comfort from him either way. You knew the man wasn’t a people person, and he wouldn’t do anything other than getting annoyed.

So after your mission went smoothly, everyone wanted to celebrate and drink. Not you for sure.

You weren’t feeling good and stable so you politely declined. This, of course drew your friends’ attention. You just told them you were tired, because you didn’t want them to miss out on their time. They finally accepted and left the base to have fun.

You, on the other hand wasn’t feeling too well. It was overwhelming, to feel that way after a success.

“Congratulations, soldier. But you missed your shot. It was a stupid thing to do, the target wasn’t even moving ahahah.”

You furrowed your eyebrows after remembering your commander’s words. Graves, he was something. He would constantly pick on you, even though he had told you he liked you. You couldn’t understand him, was he that kind of person who would bully their crushes? Yeah, no.

You shook your head, clearing your mind of those thoughts. You needed a bath, and the base was empty. You smiled to yourself weakly. This was going to be a long shower.

You closed your door, but didn’t lock it. You didn’t care because the base was empty. You stripped off your clothes and got in.

-

“Is she okay?”

Simon furrowed his eyebrows.

“Who?”

Soap rolled his eyes and cursed through the phone. He told him your name, and Simon cursed himself too.

“Didn’t know she was here,”

Simon swore that he heard Soap rolling his eyes.

“Whatever, I gotta go. Don’t get wasted, yeah?”

Simon didn’t wait for an answer before shutting the phone down. He got up and went to his bathroom, ready to take a shower. He locked the door before pulling his mask off.

He got in, warm water immediately softening his tense shoulders. He sighed and closed his eyes.

-

You had decided to grab something from the kitchen before combing your hair. So here you were, eating an apple while going to your room.

“Ooof, here you are.”

You stopped dead in your tracks after someone grabbed your shoulders from behind.

“Our talk was interrupted,”

You swallowed and smiled at him, even though his eyes were raking up and down your body. You shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh, uhm- yeah. I don’t see you like that-“

His hands moved to your waist and you gasped quietly.

“C’mon, we both know what you want. Don’t resist it.”

You pushed him hard enough to let him off and he just snorted.

“I told you. I don’t want you, Graves.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that why you wear these shorts huh? Why your hair is wet and free? Don’t play dumb, you want it. Don’t worry, even if you’re bad in bed it would worth it and I won’t tell anyone.”

He winked and that was the final straw. You kicked him in his crotch, and pushed him with all your force. He groaned and gritted his teeth.

“Fuckin’ bitch. You’re gonna regret that!”

You just walked hurriedly to your room and locked the door behind you.

You didn’t know when, but you had started crying. You sat down in front of your door and cried silently.

When you realized you had dropped your apple there, you started crying harder.

“Fuck,”

You sniffled and gripped your phone. But you couldn’t, they were having fun and you wouldn’t dare to ruin it.

You closed your eyes, tried doing the breathing techniques your therapist had taught you.

“I can’t believe you’re our teammate now, you should be a model.”

“I can keep you company, you know?”

“But you’re asking for it.”

“You don’t have a boyfriend? Such a shame, you have a good physique.”

“Believe me sweetheart, no one would talk to you if you weren’t that beautiful.”

“That pretty face is missing something, a smile?”

“Oh my God, be a lady and bow down to me will you? ahahah..”

“Fuck!”

You quickly got up, the voices in your head were ringing and ringing. Graves’ voice was ringing. It kept getting louder.

You opened your drawer and took out your knife, and held it in your hand for a second.

The voices are going to stop, you thought. It will get better if I do this, you convinced yourself.

You cut your wrist, hands shaky from the panic attack. Your breaths were unstable, shallow.

You cut your wrist again, the voices were now getting weaker.

“What the fuck is going on?!”

You jumped forward with the knife in your hand. Simon gasped for a second before holding you and looking at you.

“What happened?!”

Simon shook your shoulders, not knowing what to do. You were just as shocked as him, and didn’t move a muscle.

Simon’s eyes went up to your hair and down to your feet. His breath shook as he noticed the blood dropping from your cuts.

“What the- What did you do?!”

Simon quickly took the knife and threw it across the room, then he picked you up and carried you to the bathroom.

He put you down to the floor of the shower cabin and washed your face.

“Wait here, ‘kay? I’ll be back.”

He quickly went back to his room, grabbed the first aid kit and came rushing back.

He carefully took your wrist, inspected it and worked on it quietly.

You were still in shock, eyes looking empty at the ground. It was all so quick, and your mind wasn’t comprehending it.

Simon called your real name and you suddenly looked up. It was like a switch. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at your wrist.

“Oh my God- I fuck!”

“Shh-“

You silently cried as he bandaged your wrist, thankfully you didn’t cut that deep.

After a minute or so, he got up and picked you up. He went towards your bed, and put you down. He sat down as well.

“Why? I don’t understand anything.”

You swallowed and looked down.

“I was suicidal before. And it just, I don’t know. I got triggered I guess.” You mumbled and shrugged.

Simon just narrowed his eyes. How could you be so calm about it?

“But what happened? What triggered it?”

You sighed as you let yourself down on your mattress.

“Don’twannatalkaboutit.”

Simon raised an eyebrow.

“What? Speak up soldier. C’mon now, you know you can talk to me.”

“Graves…”

Simon shot up.

“What did that fucker do?!”

You just sighed and curled up more.

“Nothing,I-“

Simon quickly got out of your room, leaving you speechless and scared. You were scared to be alone, and scared that Graves would say some shit and Ghost would believe them.

You just closed your eyes and sighed again, suddenly fee exhausted and tired.

It was so quick, so fast like it was a dream.

“What the fuck just happened..” You mumbled to yourself.

Soon enough, Simon came back. He knocked on your door and you mumbled for him to come in.

“Took care of it.”

Your heart broke a little after that. Not in a bad way, you might add.

“Thank you. I’m just exhausted, I guess. Never really thought I would ever do that again.”

Simon held your hand as you looked up at him. His eyes took you in and left you breathless in an instant. He attempted to say something, but didn’t. You smiled at him softly, laying down on the bed.

“I’m gonna go, yeah..”

He scratched the back of his neck, and contemplated for a moment to say anything else.

But he got up, leaving your room after looking you one last time.

It was probably for another day. You would talk with him another day.

[homelanderbutbig]

You're Just The Right Size (G/T Homelander x Reader)

2120 words. Hurt/comfort and fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

Homelander feels self-conscious about his height, and you make him feel better with expert big boy appreciation.

Homelander has a meeting today with Stan Edgar, the CEO of Vought. You personally have never met Mr. Edgar and barely know anything about him, but you have noticed Homelander's anxiety spike whenever they have their little 'discussions'. Somehow, this man not only shows no fear of Homelander, but managed to turn the tables and actually scare the giant supe. On days like these, whatever words he exchanges with Mr. Edgar tend to leave him a bit more gloomy than usual, so you have scheduled in to get off work early to spend more time making him feel better.

When you enter Homelander's penthouse, you call out for him but hear no response. Perplexed, you drop your belongings off at the entrance and start walking inside, expecting to see him moping in the living room. Instead, all you see is his large body huddled into a ball on the couch with his back facing you. You can hear him sniffling and trying to stifle his sobs in your presence; even in times like this he still wants to uphold his bravado and not be completely vulnerable in front of you.

"Oh, honey," you breathe. You've never seen him get this distressed before, and it pains you not knowing how long he has been up here by himself. You climb up onto the oversized couch, nestling yourself into the edge by the armrest. His head is buried in the corner, leaving you enough of a sliver to sit down without being knocked off by his massive back and shoulders.

When you try to console Homelander by placing your hand on his shoulder, you are disheartened when he jerks away from you. Usually he will do anything to get closer to your contact, but right now it appears like he doesn't want anything to do with you. However, you are not going to just leave him alone to collapse further into his sadness. He deserves better.

Again, you put your hand on his shoulder, refusing to back down when he attempts to shake you off. After a while, he huffs in an annoyed acceptance that you aren't going to give up on him, even if it's what he really wanted all along. Gingerly, you begin massaging him as you gauge where he is mentally.

"Mr. Edgar hurt you pretty bad?" you ask, trying to choose your words carefully, as the last thing you want is to trouble him further. When Homelander gives you a tentative nod, you move your hand from his shoulder up to pet the back of his head.

"I'm so sorry sweetie," you try to cheer him up, combing your fingers through his hair. "You know I'm not going anywhere. We're going to get through this together."

Seeming to appreciate your words, Homelander pushes himself back slightly to angle his head into your lap. You still aren't able to see his face as he has buried it into your chest, but you can feel from the wetness growing on your shirt how much he has been crying.

"Can you tell me what he said?" you inquire. You want him to open up and relieve the heaviness he's carrying in his heart, hoping your soothing can keep him grounded.

"H-he… h-he s-said…" Homelander stutters, tensing as he struggles to let his walls down. There is so much that he wants to tell you, to bare his soul about everything Edgar told him that's left him so insecure. But right now he finds it so difficult to talk, trapped in this mute headspace that's stopping his mouth from forming the sentences that are swirling around in his mind. Instead, he settles on getting out the simplest sentence, and what bothered him the most. "I-I… I-I-I'm a-a-a… m-m-monst-ter…" he manages to whisper before breaking down, the weight of those words hitting him like a freight train.

You are unsure of what you can say in this situation, powerless to stop this colossal mountain of a man from bawling and hyperventilating in your lap. He is desperate for any form of tactile comfort, but he still refuses to touch you with his gigantic, destructive hands. Despite knowing you have no fear of him, he is terrified that he will injure you if he attempts to hold you right now. Instead, he wraps his arms around himself in a pathetic simulation of a hug.

Regardless of your own feelings of helplessness, you decide to hug his head tightly while you let him work through his emotions. You bring your heartbeat closer to his ears while you breathe deeply in and out, doing your best to help him focus on you. Thankfully, after a few minutes of uncontrollable sobbing this seems to work as his shaky breaths begin to slow down and match your steady ones.

Once he has calmed down enough, or at least ran out of tears, you give him a light tap on his head to signal him to separate himself from his hiding place and look at you with his red, puffy eyes. As if he is completely in sync with you, he understands what you're after and slowly flips over onto his back and moves further up onto the couch to rest his head on the armrest. This allows you to prop yourself up on Homelander's abs, finally letting you get a clear look at him. He looks like he's been through the wringer, eyes saturated and face physically drained, with his hands clenched tight by his sides. The trauma of his childhood has broken through the armoured exterior he's tried to hard to maintain, and now its fragility is entirely exposed to you.

"You aren't a monster, baby," you reassure him, leaning closer to stroke his cheek. "You might be a little larger than most people, but that just means there's more of you for me to love. There's nothing about you that's scary."

"Can I show you?" you ask, smiling warmly as you sit back upright. Although he is apprehensive at how you could possibly make him feel better about being a giant freak, he cautiously nods. He doesn't want to disappoint you, especially if you already have this speech prepared.

"Well… for starters, you have these lovely big hands," you say, picking up one of Homelander's hands. You take your time to run your hand down his large fingers, each one longer than your entire hand. When you look up at him, he is thoroughly engrossed by your every movement, unable to tear his vision away for a split second.

"They're the perfect size to pick me up with," you continue, gesturing for him to turn his hand over so you can make the same motions along his palm. "They're so warm, soft�� and gentle," you note, drawing little hearts along the creases.

"And then you have these big arms," you proceed, brushing your hand up from his wrist to his bicep, which is practically the same circumference as your head. "The right size for me to fit in so snugly," you comment, giving his bicep a firm squeeze. "For the world's best hugs."

"And your big pecs," you detail as you pat Homelander's chest, the length of which is wider across than your shoulders. "They're the best size for me to rest my head on," you remark as you feel along his pecs with your palms, pressing into the soft cushion from his suit's padding. "For first-rate cuddles."

"And your big shoulders," you tell him, moving your hands up to lightly knead his trapezius muscles. His shoulders are twice the length of your own, not even including his eagle pauldrons. "They're the proper size to wrap around when you hold me," you proclaim, lifting your hands up to his neck to caress his jawline with your thumbs.

"And then you have this big head," you say, continuing to raise your hands up from Homelander's jaw to his hair. "It's got a lot of great things about it."

"You have such beautiful hair, which I can't stop combing my fingers through," you explain as you run your nails through his undercut, causing him to whimper. He really can't stop himself from making such happy little noises when you scratch his head like that; you just have this power over him.

"Your big eyes," you add, moving your hands down to his temples. You feel Homelander stiffen slightly as you stop his favourite head scratches, but he quickly softens when you delicately wipe the remaining tears away from his eyes. "That never fail to make me smile, because they always look at me with such love that I can't help but feel happy."

"This big nose", you go on, lowering your hands down to his cheeks. When you rub your nose against his, you can feel him fighting not to use his full strength to push completely into you. "It never forgets to let me know that it appreciates my cooking… or my choice of shampoo", you giggle, kissing the tip of his nose.

"And finally, your big mouth," you state, at last resting your hands back down to Homelander's jaw. "Sometimes it says some really stupid stuff. And sometimes it can be really mean," you reflect, ghosting your fingers over his lip to feel them tremble at your featherlight touches. "But it also tells me how much you love me, and it always makes me feel like I'm the most important person in the world," you reveal, subsequently leaning in for a kiss.

Homelander closes his eyes and breathes deeply through his nose, letting go of the tension he was reluctantly holding onto as he becomes consumed by your affection. Absentmindedly, his hands shift from his sides up to your back, finally allowing himself to hold onto your tiny body.

It doesn't even register in his mind anymore that your frame is so much smaller than him, or how his lips are twice the size of yours. Right now, all he can observe is how easily you've silenced the negative voices in his head, just by being yourself. Truly, you are the guardian swaddling this lost little boy in your blanket of love, protecting him from the vicious beasts that want nothing more than to wound him more than he already has been.

When you eventually break from your kiss, Homelander's gaze flutters open to reveal how dilated his pupils have become from your heartfelt praises. At long last, his body feels like it's been released from the all of the internal torment he was holding onto from Edgar's words, melted into a malleable dough from your compassion.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else has to say," you declare, still cupping his face. His raw eyes are utterly fixated on you, soaking in every word of your admiration. "They're all wrong. They don't know how special you are."

"You're just the right size. My perfect, big boy," you promise him, giving him a gentle peck on his forehead. You leave one hand on his cheek while you gently stroke the top of his hair with the other. "Who are you, Homelander?"

"I… I-I'm your… b-big boy," he mumbles, desperate to hear more validation. He is doing his best not to blink, refusing to miss even a millisecond of your adoration.

"That's right", you hum, smiling at this sad child masquerading as an intimidating eight foot tall superhuman. "You are my big boy. And I think you deserve to know how good you are, right?"

Swallowing thickly, he nods at your honey-laced request, trying not to seem too enthusiastic. He wonders why he even had doubts that you would make him feel better about himself, you always know precisely what he needs.

"Mmmmph…" he sighs soundly when you resume scratching his scalp, purposefully giving him the most attention in his favourite spots. Chuckling, you feel your body vibrating from the deep purring emanating from Homelander's chest, a telltale sign that he has become putty in your hands. He grips onto you tightly, not enough to hurt you, but just to reassure himself that you aren't going anywhere.

When he's in this vulnerable state, you could ask him to do anything for you and he would do it without any hesitation. He would bring the moon down from space, steal the Eiffel Tower from France, rob the Crown Jewels from the Tower of London, or even wipe any city you desire off the map. And yet, he knows you never would. You aren't placating him for selfish reasons, it's purely because you love him and want him to be happy.

And one day, Homelander wishes he could find a way to show you how much he loves you too.

[l0serloki]

If you’re not too busy- would it be cool if I requested how the Val agents (Sova, Chamber, Cypher, Phoenix, Breach, and Harbor if you write for him- and anyone else you wanna add) reacting to the reader giving them the silent treatment!

Silence!

(Chamber, Yoru, Phoenix, Cypher, Breach, Harbor)

CW : GN!Reader, tiny cut (Yoru), drinking (Breach)

A/N : I’m blind and also haven’t been to bed so I didn’t even notice that you asked for Sova too.. I’m so sorry 😭

Chamber :

He’s going to pretend not to notice for a while. You want to play? Let's play.

“What is the benefit of ignoring me, my love? You are just making us both suffer”

He will buy you your favorite foods/something you’ve mentioned to “get in good graces”. He tries his best..

The tension in the air only elevated as you turned in your seat. It was late at night and you were working to repair some gear that broke in the field. Your boyfriend, Chamber, just happened to be working on his guns as well. You had started a little challenge to see how he would react to silent treatment after he ignored you one night. He was more resilient than he seemed, going a full day of basking in the awkward silence. The clicking of metal was the only sound breaking the void of nothingness.

“Y/N, if you are going to continue doing this I think I will lose my mind. I simply don’t know what to do anymore. Why do you insist on making both of us suffer?” Chamber’s voice cracked as his breath tickled your neck. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, tingles going down your flesh. When did he get this close? He was right.. this was getting to be too much.

“You’re right. Maybe I wanted to see you suffer a bit though.” You smirked as you turned to the man, finger tracing his soft skin. His chestnut hues widened at the sound of your voice, leaning into your warm touch.

“Your voice is music to my ears, mon amour.”

Yoru :

He’ll get moody. He probably won’t talk to you!

“Are you done being childish? Good. I hope you learned your lesson.”

If he notices you’re just teasing him.. he will have revenge.

Nothing bad, just him teasing you in front of the other agents or giving you a taste of your own medicine.

What had started as a little game to push Yoru’s buttons turned into much more. The subtle touches and the angered silence added a dark atmosphere to each day. His snide coughs and taps of his feet put you on edge. You knew that you would end up cracking before the man got out of his stubborn views.

Your fingers knocked against his comb, the metal cutting open your thumb. You hissed at the pain, bringing the cut up to your lips.

“Why are you trying to mess with my knife? Are you okay? Done being childish?” Yoru yanked your hand, eyes softening at the sight of you hurt. You relaxed at his touch, glad to have your snarky boyfriend back.

“Yeah.. I love you.”

“Whatever.. Love you too.”

Phoenix :

He will BEG for attention.

“Darling.. What did I do wrong?! Cmon.. Just tell me already!”

He’s so annoyed.. He leans in for a kiss and you move out of the way. He tries to talk to you and you pretend not to hear him. The audacity!

You’ll end up having to listen to him because he’s the type that will make you feel guilty.. he’s a sweetheart.

Phoenix had not shut up the whole ride back from the mission. You could only roll your eyes as you shuffled into your shared room, ignoring his words.

“Babe.. Are you even listening?” Phoenix’s voice raised an octave, watching as you climbed into bed. Your fingers reached for the bedside light, turning it off. Not even a second later, your personal heater hopped into bed behind you. His arms encompassed your form making it hard to get away.

“I don’t appreciate you ignoring me all day. I’m letting you know now that you aren’t moving from this bed till I get attention.. You hear that?” You could practically hear his smirk. You snorted at the remark and hummed.

“Yeah yeah, whatever dork. Go to bed.”

Cypher :

He will think it’s funny for a bit. You think this is a silly game? He does too.

The awkward glances and silence shared between you two is just a ticking bomb. One of you is seeing who will crack first. (Spoiler, it’s you.)

Cypher can be silent for days on end. He can keep busy with work or just sit and stay in his head..

“My my, look who actually has a voice! I thought you had lost it.”

When you had thought of ignoring Cypher it seemed funny. Well, that was days ago and it was no longer that humorous anymore.. He had noticed your little ‘challenge’ and joined, turning the whole thing into a battle. You wracked your brain with any kind of way to get him to crack first - to no avail. You sighed, hand brushing against your face in disappointment. You turned to the side to peer at your boyfriend. The blanket covered his legs, his nimble fingers typing away at his computer. You were desperate for his attention at this point, not caring much about winning.

A small noise came out of your throat causing his fingers to stop.

“Cypher..” You groaned and the man’s mouth widened in a grin.

“Oh dear, look who is crawling back.. Come here then, little bug.”

Breach :

He will roll his eyes at the antics for the first five minutes.. then he’s done.

“Okay babe.. Funny joke. It’s time to talk back now.”

He can and will be the loudest person ever/push all of your buttons. That only annoys you more and he quickly notices.

He ends up apologizing for whatever he did, begging you to be back to normal. You could imagine the sigh of relief when you laugh and say you were trying to get on his nerves.

“Don’t EVER do that again.. I thought I was going crazy.”

Breach and you were sat at the kitchen counter drinking with some of the other agents. He had already been on his fourth beer and spewing nonsense into your ear. You learned to ignore him as he got like this. He didn’t notice most of the time anyways.

“I told him that I could practically break anything.. Babe, hello? Are you even listening to me?” Breach’s voice continued to drone on as you tuned out. You were only brought back to the real world as he shook you.

“I may be drunk but it’s not that funny to ignore me. You sure you’re okay?” His eyebrow raised and you smiled.

“Yeah, sorry! Just out of it. Let's get you to bed.”

“Good idea, sweet thing.”

Harbor :

He’s reasonable and notices your silence! He backs off and gives you a day to yourself. After all, everyone needs time for themselves.

He checks in and sets food down for you when he sees you. He’s more just worried for your health.

You’ll have to tell him it’s a joke because he mostly just dotes on you and gives you worried glances.

“I thought you were having a really tough time! Don’t do that again, honey.”

You were curious as to how your boyfriend would respond to you being silent but that had more turned into guilt. He had given you space, understanding the need to be alone. Your heart melted when you woke up to water and some snacks and even when he came in to give you a kiss.

Making your way to the training room, you opened the doors. You snuck up behind the man, arms wrapping around his torso in a sneak-hug. Harbor grunted, surprised by the sudden intrusion.

“You are feeling better!” He smiled, eyes gleaming as he stared down.

“You’re too sweet for your own good. I just wanted to see how you’d react to the silent treatment. I’m sorry.” Your eyes softened. He only laughed, hand patting your head.

“Good. I’m glad nothing is seriously wrong, little wave.”

[glennjaminhow]

My newest hyperfixation ship finally manifests as a sick fic because of course it does.

~

You Know Me Best

Tim wakes up disoriented.

While that’s not unusual for most, it is unusual for him. He’s alert before he’s even aware of his surroundings. That was drilled into him by the time he was four.

He rubs his eyes and groans as he pulls himself up, out of breath from the simplest task. He blinks through the darkness of his bedroom and sags against the headboard, careful not to get too comfortable. Dizziness brews in his skull, thick and foggy. He feels like he’s on a raft in the middle of the ocean, the waves relentless, violent, treacherous. It’s ridiculous. He’s in his bed, at home in Los Angeles. The idea that he’d be anywhere else is as absurd as it is impossible.

Okay. No big deal. He’s a little out of it, and that’s fine.

Kojo whines at his feet.

Tim runs a hand through his hair as he peels himself off the mattress. A wet cough rattles through his chest, but he ignores it in favor of letting Kojo out. The wooden floor is icy beneath his thermal socks. He usually goes outside with Kojo – sometimes even plays fetch with him depending on how late he got in – but not today. He feels strange… distant. Kind of like he isn’t really here. Instead, he stands at the door and stares out the frosted window, eyes heavy.

He jumps when Kojo barks.

“Sorry, pal,” Tim says as he lets him back inside.

The dog huffs and scampers away. His automatic feeder goes off, and then Kojo’s gone.

Tim should be eating too. He isn’t a big breakfast guy, so he typically just has overnight oats or a smoothie, but the idea of eating right not makes his stomach squirm. He has about half an hour before he has to shower. He could lie down on the couch – or better yet in his bed – and bundle himself in blankets, but the here-but-not-here feeling is so strong he’s afraid he won’t be able to get back up. He resorts to sitting at the kitchen table, too exhausted to make coffee even though maybe it’d help fix whatever is wrong with him.

Time passes in a glazed blur, too fast and too slow all at once. He autopilots his way through his morning routine. He brushes his teeth, combs his hair, puts in his contacts, throws on jeans and a hoodie, and is out of the house five minutes ahead of schedule. It doesn’t make any sense. Sometimes, he wakes up wrong, guilty or angry or upset or exhausted, but it never lasts this long. He’s great at snapping out of any funk before he enters the station.

“You okay?” is the first thing he hears when he opens the side door. Chen. Great.

He rolls his eyes. He just wants to get into uniform and on the road. Maybe focusing on the job will help.

“Fine,” he says. He heads to the locker room without looking back, even though the urge to read her facial expression is strong. Lucy always wants to know everything, even if it’s irrelevant things like his favorite ice cream flavor or that he’s allergic to strawberries. She’s like this way with other people too, but it’s more annoying because she was his boot and now she’s his gopher. It’s like he just can’t get away from her.

Tim changes. Grabs his thick police-issued coat. Coughs into his elbow a few times. Stands in front of the mirror to make sure his sure is tucked in properly and his hair is up to standards. Heads to morning roll call.

Lucy stops him before he can head inside. She places her hand on his chest; Tim shrinks back from the touch.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim nods. “I’m good.”

“You’re wearing your coat,” she points out. “You never wear your coat.”

“It’s December.” His voice is hushed and scratchy. Shit. He clears his throat, but it sounds weird.

Fantastic.

Lucy’s eyebrows furrow. “And?”

“Aaand I don’t have to explain myself to you,” Tim says as he pushes past her. “It’s just a coat.”

“It’s never ‘just’ anything with you,” Lucy mutters as she trails behind him.

Tim ignores her.

Somehow, by the grace of whatever, Tim doesn’t have to say a word during the briefing. Grey does all the talking, even down to announcing their jurisdictions and duties for the day. Tim stands off to the side, arms crossed over his chest and giving his best thousand-yard stare. He doesn’t focus on anything because focusing means feeling, and feeling means acknowledging that he’s shivering. Hard. So hard he swears his teeth are chattering.

No one seems to notice. Good.

Grey releases them. They disperse.

By the time he makes it to the shop, Lucy’s in the driver’s seat.

The urge to be in control is strong, but not as strong as the urge to sit down.

He’s thankful the shop is already warm, heat cranked to the max.

Lucy immediately passes him a thermos.

“Tea with honey,” she says.

Tim buckles his seatbelt and nods once. “Thanks.”

“Have you eaten?”

“I’m fine,” he tells her again.

Is it really that obvious?

He has to get better at hiding these things.

“Do you want an applesauce pouch? It could help your throat.”

Tim frowns. “Like the things that little kids eat?”

“Adults can eat them too,” Lucy says adamantly. He doesn’t know why he believes her. “I have apple, cinnamon, and peach mango.”

“Pass,” Tim says. “And my throat is fine.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. She hands Tim his sunglasses, which were tucked away in her breast pocket for some reason, and puts the shop in drive.

Tim puts them on without a second thought, pulls the sleeves of his coat over his hands, and crosses his arms. He stares out the window as they drive through the busy streets of LA. The morning is drizzling and overcast, but that doesn’t stop the Christmas festivities. He should be BOLOing and patrolling even from the shop, but the road ahead of him is fuzzy. There’s a tightness in his chest that builds with each passing second. He gulps and shifts in his seat, biting his bottom lip. He should be able to handle this. Whatever it is, whatever is going on with him, isn’t bad enough to cause all this drama.

He can handle it. He can handle it.

And he tries to breathe through it. He really does. But now he’s nauseous, and his mouth is salivating, and each blink hurts. His dad would kill him. His military brothers and leaders would laugh in his face and tell him to suck it up. Because that’s what he should do. That’s what he has to do. He needs to suck it up. He doesn’t know why he can’t. But the fact that he can’t means that he’s out of control and being out of control means chaos and chaos means –

“Tim?”

He swallows thickly.

“Pull over.”

She does, and Tim is barely able to open the door before he spills out onto the concrete below, coughing up nothing but bile. His stomach heaves. Everything is raw and exposed and open, and he doesn’t like this. He shouldn’t behave like this. He should be able to hold it in like he always does. But he doesn’t hold it in. Of course he doesn’t. That would take a level of discipline that he clearly doesn’t possess.

“It’s okay,” he hears. The voice is soft, kind.

Lucy’s hand is on his lower back, rubbing it in soothing circles.

He shakes his head. “’s not okay,” he mumbles, swiping at his messy chin with his hand. He hiccups, and more bile splatters on the ground below.

None of this is okay.

Tim screws his eyes shut when Lucy’s hand leaves his back.

He coughs and hunches in on himself. Maybe if he curls into the smallest, tightest ball imaginable, he can disappear. His heart hammers in his chest, skipping beats and double-timing. The rest of his body feels like it’s been stored away in a deep freezer for months on end. He tries to hide his face in his knees, but moving is a herculean effort. His limbs don’t feel like they belong to him anyway, so it’s pointless.

“Tim, hey,” he hears. The hand on his back returns and then moves to his shoulder and then to palm his forehead.

His instinct is to flinch away, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t.

“I’m gonna clean you up a little, and then we’re gonna get you home.”

Tim shakes his head. He doesn’t know why there are tears streaming down his cheeks. He can’t remember the last time he cried, but he’s sure it wasn’t because of something as dumb or idiotic as not feeling in control.

Lucy unclenches his hands for him. Cleans them with something cold and wet. Does the same thing to his chin and the front of his coat. Tim shivers. Coughs again. Blinks rapidly. He doesn’t – maybe can’t – fully understand all of what’s happening. Delirium settles in, nestling and burrowing. He just knows one second he’s on the ground and the next he’s sagging against Lucy’s side as she helps him into the shop. She wipes his cheeks with her thumb and buckles him in, safe and sound. Tim leans on the door, pressing his cheek to the cool window, hoping that it’s enough to ground him, to help him stay in reality, to let him get back to himself in one piece.

He closes his eyes and tries to breathe through it, but things – everything – just feels wrong.

Tim isn’t sure how or when it happens, but somehow he’s in his bed. His gray comforter is soft against his skin, pulled up over his chin. He tries to roll onto his back, but he can’t seem to muster the strength. Instead, he coughs wetly and attempts to place how he got here. He’s home, so it isn’t anything sinister, and he knows Lucy was with him the whole time. His former boot wouldn’t let anything bad happen to him. It’s weird to acknowledge that, to understand that someone has his back, but he knows it’s the truth.

Something wet drips from his forehead and down his cheek.

Tim blinks. His arms feel like they’re glued to his side.

“Any better?” he hears.

Lucy comes into his line of vision, kneeling down in front of him. She replaces the wet thing on his forehead – a washcloth apparently – with an icepack. Tim bites his bottom lip and winces.

“Sorry,” she whispers. “But you’re gonna hate this even more.”

Lucy invades his cocoon, exposing him to the air outside. Tim lets out a groan that’s dangerously close to a cry and shrivels in on himself. Lucy places an icepack under each armpit, and this time tears swell in his eyes. The cold is immediate and fucking hurts. Like needles. He hates needles, but she’s right: he hates this even more.

“It’s just for a few minutes. Your fever is through the roof, and you need to cool down before you fry your brain,” Lucy says.

She pulls the comforter back over him. Tim wraps his arms around himself and coughs, body shaking harshly. He chews the inside of his cheek with chattering teeth. His dad would absolutely annihilate him for this… this…

“Tim,” Lucy whispers. She’s still kneeling down in front of him. “You’re okay. This is only temporary.

He gulps. “You sure?” His voice is weak.

Everything about him is weak.

“I’m sure. Just breathe. You’ll get through this.”

Tim nods. He looks at Lucy, whose brown eyes are shining with tears, yet also full of reassurance. She’s trying to make him feel better. He ignores the desperate ache for her to hold him close, to run her fingers through his hair, for her to whisper comforts in his ear.

He breathes. Closes his eyes. Lets sleep tug him under.