#this took me too long and I had to remind myself writing it bad is better than not writing lmao

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

The joyous din of the party was distant as Wyll sat by the riverside. Wyll hadn’t strayed too far from the camp, but the celebrations and singing felt miles away, a lifetime away.

Against all odds, Majexatli had managed not just to save the tieflings, but also save Halsin, take down the goblin leaders, talk Kagha out of the Rite of Thorns, and have the title of Faithwarden bestowed upon them. They were a hero. Wyll couldn’t think of anyone more deserving of a celebration in their honor.

Wyll had helped, certainly, and he couldn’t have been more honored to be by Majexatli’s side. They were a competent leader, a skilled warrior, a sage druid. He had done his best to help them at every turn, help the tiefling refugees in any way possible. But even as he had been teaching the tiefling children how to defend themselves, when he first saw Majexatli, there had only been one thing on his mind. 

Karlach. 

The violent devil he had spent so long hunting, the monster he had sworn to cut down. The one he had traveled to Averus to kill, only to discover she was only a young woman tiefling, a victim of Zariel, forced into servitude. She was no more a monster than he was.

He didn't regret sparing her. He would do it again.

Yet—

His dreams were still haunted by how close he had come to killing her. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel the hellfire burning his skin and his soul was dragged through all the levels of hell. Every time he caught a glimpse of his reflection he was reminded of it all, that he was nothing more than a devil’s puppet. Every time people looked at him, all they saw was his worst.

Wyll never regretted his pact, how could he? How much good has he done because of it, he saved Baldur’s Gate, saved countless people. He couldn’t regret it. He was the Blade of Frontiers, a monster hunter, protecting the innocent with the powers granted by Mizora. He had sworn to only ever hunt monsters and devils.

But how many were just like Karlach—

A twig snapped behind Wyll and he couldn’t help the way his breath hitched, his heart fluttered in anticipation. Perhaps it was selfish, to think that they would leave their own celebration just to see him. He couldn’t ignore that hope though, as much as he tried.

Turning to look where the noise came from, though, that hope vanished.

Stood a few yards away was a wolf, large with dark brown fur and yellow eyes trained on him.

Fear shot through Wyll for a moment, freezing him in place as his mind raced. He was unarmored, unarmed. He had left all his equipment back at camp, he wasn’t even sure how much magic he had left in him after a full day of battle.

Before Wyll’s mind could race much any further, Wyll saw the wolf lower its head and whine.  

Majexatli, Wyll realized, a warmth spreading in his chest. 

The other day, he had seen them wildshape into a wolf while fighting the gnolls on the risen road. It was a form they rarely took, at least for as long as Wyll had known them. 

For a moment on the battlefield, he had wondered what their strategy was, why that form. Often they chose something larger, a bear, a rothé, something that could shrug and walk off arrows and stabs.

His questioning didn’t last long, when a gnoll cornered him and out of nowhere the wolf jumped at the gnoll’s throat, tackling it to the ground and biting down with a jaw powerful enough that Wyll heard the gnoll’s spine crunch.

The wolf before him now looked worlds different from the one he saw with bared teeth and blood-soaked fur. Its eyes were wide and curious, fur clean and soft, though its right ear was still missing, skin raw from where a gnoll had torn it off. 

The wolf padded closer to Wyll cautiously, and Wyll let out a chuckle.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t notice I was gone,”

It was partially true. Some deep, selfish part of him hoped they would come looking for him. He shouldn’t have hoped for it, shouldn’t be glad they left the celebration. 

The wolf whined again as it approached, and mid-stride it was consumed by a golden light. In the blink of an eye, Majexatli was by his side, sitting next to him on the rock. They weren’t quite touching him, but Wyll could feel the warmth radiating off them, melting away the chill of the night. He had to stop himself from leaning into them.

“You were the first person I looked for, of course I noticed,” Majexatli said, adjusting their bad leg with a slight wince.

“Really? I mean— ahem, I’m honored,”

It was hard not to stumble over his words around them.

“Are you alright?”

Majexatli looked over at Wyll, briefly meeting his eyes before returning their gaze to the river. They rarely made eye contact; seeing Majexatli’s green eyes focused on him, even just for a moment, almost made his breath hitch. This close, Wyll could see the worry on their face, the lines on their face more pronounced as they looked out at the river.

“I’m deeply proud of you, a touch less so of myself,” Wyll sighed, joining Majexatli in looking out towards the water, “In truth, I don’t feel in a festive mood and didn’t want to cast a gray cloud over the night.”

Majexatli was silent for a few moments.

“I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do?” 

You coming to find me already means the world.

“It’s alright, you needn’t worry. Any other time and I would love to join you in celebrating, but…” Wyll let out another sigh, “I’m a devil. I love the people from the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays.” 

“Wyll, that’s not true,” 

Majexatli’s frown had deepened, the sight almost hurt to see.

Wyll almost wanted to be honest, tell them the truth. I’ve likely killed innocent people. People used to look at me as a hero but now all they see is a monster. He couldn’t bring himself to say it, though.

“Come on, you don’t want a devil at your party. Claws will pop the balloons, you see. And the sweetcakes don't taste half as good as raw eggs with this blasted forked tongue,” Wyll smiled, trying to make light of it all, trying to keep Majexatli from seeing through him to the truth. 

“You’re no more a devil than any of us,”

In appearance, perhaps. You don’t know everything I’ve done for Mizora. And I chose to be this way. I wouldn’t change what I did. I would make the pact again if given a chance to do it over. I don’t regret it. I don’t. I can’t regret it.

“If only half the world had half the heart you do,”  Wyll said softly before he could stop himself.

“Wyll…”

They sounded so earnest. 

“Ah, but I’ve taken up enough of your time,” Wyll bit back the selfish urge to keep them here, to lean on them, to tell them everything, “You have a party to return to! Have a dance, enjoy the music. I’ll be back to my old self in no time,” 

Wyll patted their shoulder with a smile. He half expected them to leave immediately, that the moment he finished speaking, they would nod politely and be enveloped in golden light as they returned to whichever form they felt suited them.

In the time Wyll had known them, he had learned enough about them to know they weren’t particularly social. Majexatli preferred silence, solitude, being surrounded by nature rather than engaging in small talk or comforting others. 

Even in the river, Wyll had noticed their tension, the faint edge in their voice, the way they kept their distance. He knew they didn’t mean him any ill will, it was just as they had said, they were unused to being around people. They were a druid that spent their time in the wilds far from settlements, it was understandable, even the kindest druids in the Emerald Grove had seemed slightly awkward around outsiders. Perhaps Wyll should have turned down their invitation—

Wyll pulled himself from his thoughts as he realized Majexatli was still sitting there, looking down, fidgeting with their sleeve, or rather, something in their sleeve. Wyll saw the faintest glint of something silver between their fingers.

“I… I came out here for a reason, you know,” 

“Oh?” 

Majexatli shifted slightly, perhaps by accident, perhaps coincidentally, their knee touching his. The playful retort that had been on the tip of Wyll’s tongue died at the sudden contact, heart skipping a beat.

“I did,”

They fidgeted again, moonlight once again reflecting off something by their side. Wyll paid it no mind though, regaining his composure and smiling.

“And here I thought you had stumbled out here by accident, perhaps all the wine has gotten the better of you,”

As much as he was teasing them, looking at them, he could see their lips faintly stained red from wine. With the amount of bottles he had seen at camp before he left, he shouldn’t be surprised that they were likely a bit drunk. The thought hurt, somehow, the idea that what fueled their care for him in this moment might just be the wine talking—

“I’m afraid I’m quite sober,”

Perhaps it should have struck him as strange. Surely they were lying, exaggerating. He hadn’t seen them drink before, perhaps they handled their alcohol better than most.

“Is that so? Surely then you must have been looking for somewhere quiet to relax and I’ve intruded on your solitude and quite ruined your whole evening,”

Wyll was only half joking, trying to hide the fact that he was nervous, second-guessing himself. He scanned their face intently. Surely he must have misread the signs. 

“I wasn’t looking for solitude, actually,”

Majexatli shifted again, just barely, the hand they were leaning on moving over just enough that they brushed Wyll’s own hand. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see they were clutching something tightly in their other hand.

After a moment, Wyll slowly moved his hand over Majexatli’s. He was almost afraid, worried Majexatli might get spooked and bolt like a cornered animal. But they stayed, half turning towards him, eyes wide.

“I—It’s a long shot, but- maybe you’ve grown fond of me. Gods know I’ve grown fond of you.”

He heard Majexatli’s breath hitch.

“I think I do, have feelings for you that is,” Majexatli said slowly, occasionally flicking their eyes over to meet his.

“Then we share a similar affliction, though I can’t say I’ve earned the honor,” Wyll let out a half-laugh, “The Blade hasn’t really lived up to own reputation, I haven’t even managed to kill a single devil,”

It was true—Majexatli hadn’t seen the best of The Blade. They saw him nearly kill an innocent woman, saw him get dragged through the hells in punishment, saw the tight grip Mizora had on him. What must they think of him? If his patron punished him for being good and he hadn’t been punished like this before.

Majexatli pulled back slightly, and Wyll braced himself for rejection.

“You don't need to be the Blade of Frontiers, Wyll,” Was what Majexatli said instead, looking almost hurt, “You’re more than just the Blade,”

“The Blade is my best self, some days I even live up to it,”

Majexatli was quiet for a moment, eyes distant, face stony. What Wyll wouldn’t give to see them smile, relax, feel at ease. They looked far older than they were, aged by a constant stress and frown that seemed unfitting of a druid. As the quiet carried on, Wyll couldn’t help a gnawing guilt, that he was only adding to their stress, adding unnecessary layers to an already awful situation. Majexatli could be celebrating and drinking at a party in their honor, but instead, they were at Wyll’s side, looking more melancholy than ever.

“Does it hurt?” Majexatli asked eventually, breaking the silence.

“I— pardon?”

The question caught Wyll off guard, he wasn’t even sure what they meant. 

“Having a title you feel you aren’t living up to? Does it hurt?” Majexatli continued, “Is the Blade who you are, or is it a role, a front, character, boots you can never fill that contain some ephemeral worth?”

“What brought this on?”

Majexatli looked up at the stars above, they opened their mouth to speak but stopped themselves, tail flicking at their side.

“What happened in the Grove… with Kagha, the way she named me Faithwarden,”

Wyll wasn’t too familiar with druid customs, but he had been able to sense that it was something meaningful. He saw the surprise on the other druids’ faces as Kagha named them Faithwarden, placing the quarterstaff in their hands that radiated a faint golden light.

“I hear it’s quite an honor, you deserve it, for all you did at the Grove. I don’t know much of Silvanus, but you seem to honor his teachings well,”

Majexatli almost flinched at his words.

At their reaction, their visceral disgust, something clicked in Wyll’s mind, a puzzle piece falling into place. As enigmatic and stoic as Majexatli was, all of the little slips in their mask were compounding. Their discomfort in the Grove, their unusual coldness towards Calnys there, their seeming contempt for Wyll’s congratulations and mention of Silvanus…

“I don’t care for the title,” Majexatli said, then added, almost inaudible, “Not this time,”

There was something just beneath the surface, just out of reach.

“This time?”

For the briefest moment, he felt his tadpole twitch, flashes of images in his mind. Pale hands braiding dark curly hair. The feel of fine robes with delicate elven embroidery. Butterflies in stomach, kneeling before an older half-elf before a crowd of druids. 

With a pang of guilt, Wyll wondered if he had probed their mind without meaning to. 

“I just... I need you to know that I care about you, Wyll. I would care about you if you weren't the Blade, I would care about you if you weren't a hero. You matter to me as a person, not a story or title,”

Majexatli’s hand found Wyll’s, warm and calloused, squeezing gently, earnestly, desperately. They had turned to look at him fully for the first time that night, meeting his eyes directly, searching for something. 

This was a different Majexatli than Wyll had seen before, unguarded in a way that felt more intimate than bathing with them in the river the other day. Wyll leaned in closer without realizing.

“I—I’ll try to remember that, but I’m not sure what I have without the title,”

“You’re enough,”

Majexatli still held Wyll’s hand, looked in his eyes, leaned close to him. 

“In another life, I can imagine courting you properly, dancing in ballrooms,” Wyll said softly.

Wyll would have given anything to see it, to live it. To get a chance to lead Majexatli and glide across the dancefloor with them. To see what Majexatli would look like well-rested, well cared for. For them to see him as he used to be, some version of himself more worthy of their affection.

There was a flash of something across Majexatli’s face, something unreadable. They regained composure quickly, face softening as they brought up their hand to cup Wyll’s face. A faintly metallic smell hit Wyll, subtle enough to barely register.

“I don’t have another life, just this one, where I met you,”

Some skeptical part of Wyll had wondered if it had all been a ploy, that Majexatli simply craved intimacy with anyone and he was just romantic enough to fall for it. There was no way they meant what they said, there had to be some hidden motive, and yet—

Majexatli’s calloused thumb stroked his cheek with such tenderness.  

Hells. 

Wyll could court them in this life, even if he was a devil and they both had tadpoles in their heads and the Absolute threatening them at every turn. As much as he wanted it to be perfect, as much as he wanted to take his time—

Wyll leaned in, slowly, cautiously, half expecting Majexatli to stop him. Instead, they closed the distance, pressing their chapped lips to his softly.

The kiss lasted only a moment, Wyll’s hand finding their waist as he kissed back, Majexatli still cupping his cheek with a gentleness he hadn’t seen them show before. He had to stop himself from clinging to them and kissing back with the fevered desperation he felt, trying to chase the warmth and safety he felt in their arms.

“I—well, then,” Wyll started, cheeks burning hot as he pulled away, “Erm, you've got a party to get back to. After all, tonight is about you.”

“Of course. Goodnight, Wyll,”

Majexatli nodded with a faint smile, standing up and immediately being consumed by golden light as they once again assumed their wolf form. They trotted off towards the woods, towards camp Wyll hoped. 

As they disappeared in the treeline, Wyll realized a taste lingered on his lips. 

Not wine.

Blood.

[devilsskettle]

whenever i hear a song that i would like if it weren’t for the fact that it was too long, i think about this:

like you can afford to write tangentially if you/your music is already popular and you know that people are going to listen to you no matter what and in fact laud your longer pieces as being genius etc but can you really be releasing 5+ minute long songs without a built-in audience?

[coco-loco-nut]

Hii!

Can I please ask for an angsty fic with Max, where the reader defends him from Jos after not finishing his race in Melbourne...idk if you remember when Max kept his helmet for four hours after a race because he was afraid of what Jos would have done to him after not winning...and the reader basically tells Jos to get lost even if she's like 5'4 and definitely not as intimidating as them both lol.

And then maybe after the win in Suzuka, they "reconcile" but she still reminds him to act right around her boyfriend, who's now a man and not a little boy he could pressure like he once did.

Sorry if it's too long!! Thanks for taking your time and reading my request!

Guard Dog

Pairing: Max x Reader

Summary: You are sick and tired of watching Max take Jos' shit

TW: verbal abuse

A/n: thank you soooo much for the rec, I love writing these out so much <3

requests open masterlist

----------------

"Maxie... are you okay?" you wait patiently by the door to his driver's room, careful not to barge in like Jos would, as you have for the past year since you first witnessed Jos' beratement of his son. He is sitting on the couch with his helmet between his hands. The fire causing an unpleasant start to the race, and you are just glad you got here first.

"I'm okay," his voice cracks and you step into the room, closing the door behind you. "I know it wasn't my fault, but I can't help but feel like it was my fault," Max looks in your eyes, the fire brewing behind them. You were genuinely the sweetest girl he's ever met, and to get you mad took a lot. God help you if Jos shows up, you are tired of Max feeling bad even when he podiums.

"You're right, you didn't do anything wrong, the car failed you today," you stay calm, sitting beside him and cuddling into him. Max stays quiet, enjoying your warmth, and decompressing from the start. He can understand why the fans were so happy to see him lose, in fact, if he wasn't himself, he would join them. No, the fear of his father is what has him on edge. Rightfully so, because a few seconds later the door is slammed open again.

"Max, what the hell did you-" Jos starts and you launch yourself off the couch. Jos and Max were big guys, and you were average height for a woman, 5'6 or so, but you didn't seem like it in that moment.

"Shut the hell up and leave. You have nothing useful to say and you are going to shift blame to Max who had NO fault in the DNF," you snarl, setting yourself up as a barrier between the two, Jos still in the doorway and Max on the couch.

"Girl, I don't know who you think you are, but I am Max's father, and I can-," You cut Jos off before he can continue.

"No, you aren't his father. A father doesn't talk to his son like that, you are simply a man who shares the same last name as Max. A father is someone like Carlos Sainz Sr or Lawrence Stroll. No, you are a man- sorry a boy in a man's body- who can't cope with the fact that he doesn't race anymore and wants the man who shares the same last name with him to be impossibly perfect and win every single race, even when the car breaks down." You sneer at the man. "You need to leave, before I call security and make them remove you," you don't back down, instead you step closer. Max watches in both awe and fear.

"I-"

"Leave, Jos, now. Don't make me repeat myself," you say, practically slamming the door behind him. You turn around and look at Max, seemingly calm and normal. He looks at you bewildered.

"That was the sexiest thing ever. Thank you, Schatje, you didn't have to do that," Max hugs you, a large weight off of his shoulders.

"Of course I did, who else will be your guard dog?" You smile at him, squeezing him tighter. "Now, get changed and get back to the garage," you tell Max, stepping out to the room. You let out a deep breath, surprised with how you treated Jos and stood up for Max. A couple minutes later, Max rejoins you, quickly stopping inside hospitality for a snack.

The two of you avoid Jos, going extremely low contact, not that he was trying to. Jos would never admit it, but he was embarrassed at how you spoke to him, and his retreat allowed him to ignore it. Instead, you and Max enjoyed your time together in Japan. The both of you were aware Jos was there, but chose to ignore it. After Max won, Jos warily approached the two of you.

"I wanted to congratulate you on winning. You drove well," Jos says stiffly, silently calling for a truce. You let Max take the lead on the conversation.

"Thank you," he says, feeling like a little boy again, but accepting the temporary truce.

"It was good seeing you Jos, but we need to go," you interject, sensing the still tense atmosphere. The older man, still a little scared of you despite your sweet demeanor, lets you go, not quite willing to cross you again.

"Love you, Maxie"

"Love you too, Schatje,"

[byechristopher]

fuck'em all, but us.

– CHRIS STURNIOLO ANGST.

Author's note: Hello, little angels. I have been gone for months, but I've been wanting to write something for a while now. Excuse me for the hiatus. However, I still can not promise that I'll be consistent from now on – but i love you still. Do not copy/steal my work. :)

Warnings: HELLA LONG. This is almost 3.000 words, sweet Jesus. As usual, if you know me, I like writing about dark, angsty shit. Nothing too bad, but you know, mention of fights, blood, smoking, etc.

I caught Chris staring at me again, that same cold, unreadable expression on his face. He had a cigarette between his fingers, as usual. His eyes were like ice, and whenever they landed on me, I felt a chill run down my spine. He never says anything — just watches, arms crossed, jaw clenched, as if I’ve done something to offend him without even knowing it. I don’t understand what I did to make him look at me that way, like he’s barely holding back some hidden resentment. And yet, every time I catch him watching, I can’t help but wonder what he’s really thinking.

I’ve seen him with a few other people. He’s not exactly warm with them either, but there’s something different when he talks to them, a sort of casual ease. With me, it’s like he’s built up walls — high, thick ones, and I’m just standing outside, banging on the gates. And every now and then, I think I catch a glimpse of something behind them, something vulnerable and unexpected, but it’s gone before I can be sure.

Chris was my older brother's closest friend, and he has been ever since they were little kids. No one ever got as close to him as my brother did. Whereas when it came to me, he was rather cold; I never understood why.

My thoughts were roughly interrupted by my brother's hand, which took a strand of my hair and pulled on it to annoy me.

"Ow, you fucking asshole!"

"Hey, wake the fuck up. I said me and Chris are leaving." I rolled my eyes and looked at Chris one more time, seeing that he still had that same look on his face.

Deciding to ignore it one more time, "yeah, bye. God." I said and grabbed the remote to switch on the TV.

I didn’t want to watch anything in particular; I’d just rather avoid looking at my brother’s best friend once again.

"Where the hell are you?"

A notification popped up and before I read the sender's name, I already knew it was Fred. My ex.

Of course, I ignored it, but deep down, I knew he was losing it. Ever since we broke up, he’s been acting stranger and stranger — showing up at places he knows I’ll be, sending messages that alternate between apologies and accusations. It’s like he can’t decide if he wants me back or wants to make me regret ever knowing him. I kept telling myself he’d get over it eventually, that he just needed time. But lately, his behavior had me on edge, and I began wondering if he’d ever really let go.

I’d never go back to him; that’s something I’m certain of. He crossed too many lines, left too many scars I can’t forget. But now, it’s like he’s everywhere—lurking just out of sight, always one step behind me. I feel his presence even when he’s not there, a constant, heavy reminder that he’s still watching, still obsessing.

I’ve started checking over my shoulder more often, catching myself dreading the sound of my phone vibrating with yet another message from him. I tell myself it’s just paranoia, that he’s all talk and no real threat. But some small part of me can’t shake the fear that this time, he might actually be out of control.

And I was right to be cautious. Because he finally crossed the line I’d been hoping he’d stay behind. When I got home, my stomach twisted as I saw it; my car, with its tires slashed and a deep scratch running along the side. It was unmistakably his work; I’d ignored his messages, blocked his number, and now he was trying to force my attention.

My hands shook as I took in the damage, a mix of anger and dread flooding through me. How could he stoop this low? He knew that car was everything to me, the one thing I’d saved for and bought on my own. The memories of late nights spent driving to clear my head, the freedom it gave me — he’d tainted all of it in a single, desperate act. I wanted to scream, to call him and let him know just how furious I was. But I knew that’s exactly what he wanted.

He wanted a reaction, wanted me to feel trapped and afraid, wanted to pull me back into his twisted little game. But I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. Instead, I took a deep breath, locked my jaw, and stared at my car.

"What.. the fuck is that?" My brother's voice echoed in my ears and I turned around to see that he was with Chris.

"Fred. Fucking Fred." I screamed, not able to contain my anger.

"That bastard.. I will fucking kill him." He said and got closer to the car to see the damage, "calm down" was what Chris said to him.

Chris looked shocked and angry, he walked towards me, "this motherfucker lives nearby?"

"Yeah… just a few blocks away." I sat down on the ground, pulling my legs to my chest and hugging them tightly. I looked up at Chris, my voice trembling, "that was my fucking car..." a tear slipped down my cheek, and in that moment, I couldn’t tell if it was from anger or sadness.

Chris clenched his jaw, and I felt a rush of warmth as his hand reached down to cup my cheek. His touch was soft, gentle, and completely disarming. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had held me like that, with such tenderness. He looked down at me with a promising expression, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll see what I can do about your car. I might have a friend who can fix it.”

His thumb brushed softly against my skin, and I felt a flutter in my stomach, a strange mix of comfort and something deeper. The way he touched me sent a shiver down my spine, pulling me out of my anger for just a moment. In such a chaotic moment, I couldn’t help but think it was nice seeing him like this for once. I stayed silent and leaned into his hand, seeking that warmth, desperate for a distraction from the whirlwind of emotions coursing through me.

I was rather quiet the following days – I didn't want to go out of the house much. Not because this asshole scared me with what he did, but because that car meant a lot to me. Me and my brother lived by ourselves, and that car was the only thing I could call my own. Fred would pay and I'd make sure of that.

I was alone in my room getting ready for work, trying to drown out the chaos of the previous days when I heard the front door slam shut. My heart raced with curiosity and unease. Just as I was about to head downstairs, my brother’s voice boomed through the house, cutting through the silence, “what the hell happened to you?”

I sprang to my feet, instinctively rushing toward the sound of the voices. As I reached the living room, I froze at the sight before me. Chris was leaning against the wall, blood dripping from a cut on his eyebrow and cheek, and staining his shirt. My brother stood in front of him, fists clenched, a mixture of concern and fury etched across his face.

“Chris, what the actual fuck!” my brother exclaimed, his voice a mix of anger and worry. Chris turned his gaze toward me, and in that moment, everything else faded. Despite the blood and bruises, there was a softness in his eyes that held me captive, a silent plea that made my heart race.

“I’m fine,” Chris replied, though his voice was strained. He shifted slightly, not even a single emotion of fear, or pain, nothing. If anything, he had a pleased expression on his face, I could almost make out a smile. My brother continued to glare at him, demanding answers, but Chris seemed unwilling to give them to him.

“What happened?” I asked, stepping closer, my heart pounding. Chris’s gaze flickered back to my brother, and for a brief moment, I felt a wave of unease wash over me. I could sense that whatever had happened involved more than just a simple altercation, and the tension in the air was thick with unspoken words.

"Nothing happened. I just shouldn't have gone to Mike's. There was another fight and I got involved." My brother seemed to know what he was talking about, because his whole body language changed, softened.

"I told you, asshole. You should never go to Mike's. This bar is a shithole." He went off to the kitchen, probably going to grab something to clean the blood.

I walked closer to Chris, my sweaty fingers digging into my leather bag. I reached out hesitantly, my fingers trembling as I brushed against his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin contrasted by the coolness of the blood that trickled down from the cut above his eyebrow.

“Chris,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath, my heart racing. “Does it hurt a lot?” My fingertips lingered on his skin, tracing the line of the wound as if I could somehow erase the pain with my touch. His eyes locked onto mine, a storm of emotions swirling within them — vulnerability, frustration, and a glimmer of something deeper that sent shivers down my spine.

He winced slightly at my touch but didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into my hand, a subtle gesture that felt almost intimate in the tense air between us.

“Not much.” he said, his voice low and rough, but it was the way he looked at me that stole my breath. There was a rawness in his gaze, as if he was baring a part of himself that he’d kept hidden, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked, my thumb brushing lightly over his jawline, searching his eyes for reassurance. The moment felt suspended in time, a fragile bubble where nothing else mattered but the two of us. His expression softened, and I could see the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the pain.

“I will be,” he replied, his gaze steady and unwavering, filled with a mixture of gratitude and something that felt like longing. It was as if, in that brief exchange, we shared an unspoken promise — a connection that transcended the chaos around us. My heart raced, and for the first time since the chaos began, I felt a sense of calm in the storm.

Having to go to work and leave him like this pained me, but I had to go, "I have to go to work.." I explained.

"Mhm. D'you want me to take you to work?" He said and I sighed.

"No. Of course not. Stay here, with my brother. I'll see you.. later." I nodded my head and said goodbye one last time before leaving.

The night air was cool against my skin as I walked home from work, each step feeling heavier than the last. The streetlights cast a faint glow on the pavement, illuminating the shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly in the darkness. My thoughts were consumed by what had happened — I couldn’t shake the image of him standing there, bloodied yet resilient, leaning into my touch.

My heart raced at the memory, but alongside it was a gnawing concern. What kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? It was like him to end up in trouble, but I'd never actually see him like this.

As I approached my apartment, a sudden impulse gripped me. I didn’t want to go home and drown in my thoughts; I wanted to see Chris again. I needed to know he was okay, to check on him in a way that felt more personal than just a casual conversation. With each step toward his place, a mix of anxiety and anticipation bubbled within me.

I turned the corner, the familiar path leading me to his apartment building. The windows were dimly lit, casting a warm glow that made me feel a little lighter despite the weight of everything else. I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I was overstepping or if he’d even want to see me after everything that had happened. But the thought of him alone, nursing his wounds and possibly replaying the day in his mind, pushed me forward.

I climbed the stairs, my heart pounding louder with each step. When I reached his door, I raised my hand and knocked softly, the sound echoing in the silence of the hallway. What if he wasn’t ready to see me? But as I waited, I couldn’t help but hope that he’d open the door, that he’d let me in — not just to his apartment, but to whatever was going on in his life.

"What.. are you doing here?" He furrowed his eyebrows, a little band-aid covering the wound on his eyebrow now, a cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry, Chris.. I couldn't.. stop thinking about you. I mean.. what happened to you.. today." I was nervous, I couldn't quite understand why.

He cleared his throat and stepped aside to let me in, and of course, I wasted no time. I sat down on his couch and he sat down beside me. So many years of knowing him, and I've never actually been inside his house, so I took a quick look around, trying to take in everything I could.

"I'm fine. I told you." He insisted and sipped from his beer that was on the coffee table, his cigarette nearly done now.

"Your cheek is swollen, you didn't even bother putting some ice on it. Geez." I huffed and got up to go to the kitchen, opening the freezer and wrapping some ice cubes in a towel.

I walked back to him and sat closer to him, cupping his cheek and gently pressing the ice on his other cheek. Only then did I realise how close we were, I could feel his breath fanning over my lips, his dark blue eyes staring into mine.

"My fiend. Zack. He will help you with the car." He whispered and I whispered back, "thank you.. so much."

The sight of him so vulnerable, the blood still seeping from the cut and the way he tried to mask the pain, made something deep within me stir. I forgot about everything else — the fight, the worry, the uncertainty of where we stood. All I could focus on was him and the way he looked at me, those fierce eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something more that made my pulse quicken.

I could see the way he held back a flinch, how he tried to remain stoic despite the pain. I felt the heat rising in my cheeks, a flush of desire that surprised me. I wanted to kiss him, to close the distance between us and erase the hurt with something softer, something intimate.

As I leaned closer, his gaze flickered to mine, and in that moment, everything else faded away.

“Chris,” I murmured, my voice barely above a whisper, as I hesitated just inches from his face. I could sense that he was just as caught up in the moment as I was, his eyes darkening with something that mirrored my own feelings.

Then, before I could overthink it, I closed the distance between us, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was soft at first, tentative, as if we were both afraid of what this moment meant. But as I felt him respond, his hand gently cupping my neck, deepening the kiss, I knew I had crossed a line that I never wanted to return from.

The kiss was hungry, needy. I needed to catch my breath. As we pulled away for a breath, my heart raced, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions, “this is so wrong..” I whispered, my forehead resting against his.

“I know,” Chris replied, his voice thick with desire. He searched my eyes, a mix of guilt and longing swirling between us, "I cant stop now.”

“I shouldn’t be here,” I breathed, feeling the warmth of his body so close. Yet I leaned in again, capturing his lips with mine once more.

He pulled back slightly, looking conflicted, “what if your brother finds out?”

“I don’t.. care right now,” I admitted, my hands threading through his hair as I kissed him again, the heat of the moment overwhelming any reservations I had, “I just want to be here with you.”

“I shouldn’t want this,” he murmured against my lips, his breath mingling with mine, “but I do.”

“Me too,” I confessed, pulling him closer, lost in the moment, “I can’t stop.”

“Then don’t,” he whispered, his eyes darkening with intensity, “don't think about anything else.”

With that, we dove back into the kiss, the world outside fading as we lost ourselves in each other.

As I left Chris's apartment that night, a rush of exhilaration filled me, and I realised that the unexpected had happened; my ex hadn’t reached out at all since the incident with the car. And for the first time in weeks, I felt a weight lift from my shoulders.

A few days later, while I was passing by my brother's room, I heard him talking on the phone. Curiosity piqued, I paused outside the door, trying to listen in.

“I can’t believe you did that, man,” my brother said, his tone a mix of disbelief and admiration, “how did you even find his place?”

“This bitch peed his pants when he saw me.” Chris replied, his voice low but amused, “it wasn't that hard, just had to ask around.”

Something shifted inside of me, realizing that Chris had taken matters into his own hands.

“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was planning on destroying his car instead", my brother said.

“But I wanted to,” Chris replied firmly, and I could hear him chuckle at what my brother said next.

I stepped back, my heart racing. So, it was Chris who had put an end to my ex’s harassment. I couldn’t help but smile, feeling a warmth spread through me. I knew then that my feelings for Chris were deeper than I had allowed myself to acknowledge, and knowing he had my back made me feel safer than ever.

I found myself running back to his apartment again, right then and there, running up the stairs of his building as if someone was chasing me. I knocked on the door, loud enough for him to open it quickly, worry written in his eyes.

"What–"

And this time I didn't let him finish. With tears in my eyes, I pressed my lips against his and lost myself in his arms.

⠀

⠀

⠀

[romanarose]

Scars

Pre-Outbreak!Joel Miller x pale!fem!reader (see immersivity warnings)

Join my taglist : Masterlist

Summary: You and Joel are taking things slow, really slow. You find that he's easy to open up to about your depression, but you find it's hard to tell him the full extent.

Warnings: Talk of depression and self harm, self harm scars, descriptions of said scars (healed, not bleeding or recent) piv sex, oral f!recieving. Comfort sex. first time between couple, not loss of virginity.

Immersivity: Reader is fem, no specified age. This is a fic i started last year when i was doing very, very poorly and relapsing. I wanted to write something for myself. I usually really try to make things as inclusive as I can but the descriptions of scars are detailed and they are detailed to my skin, which is pale. I'm sorry, but I wanted to write this for myself. I support people writing fics specific to themselves, their skin tone, their hair type, their wieght etc, as long as it's labled right. @fandxmslxt69 said i could do it and said if anyone has a problem, come to her <3

***************

"And the scars remind us that the past is real" Scars, Papa Roach

Joel hadn’t minded when you said you wanted to take things slow. He didn’t mind one bit. Being a dad of a preteen , albeit an easy one, didn’t leave him with much opportunity to move fast. He was busy. In fact, he hadn’t really intended to date at all, at least until Sarah was in college if that… but you had sparkled your way into his life accidentally, and he was trying his best to balance it all. You were understanding, patient, you didn't get mad if he had to rearrange plans or cancel because something with Sarah or work came up, and he thought things were going well. You were beautiful, fun, and the few times you’d briefly met Sarah, she seemed to like you. That was a necessity. Joel absolutely refuses to date someone that made Sarah unhappy, but Sarah had made a few references to him and dating before he met you anyway, so she seemed okay with it. It wasn’t like he had a relationship with her mom, as much as Joel had tried to foster something… her mom hadn’t been interested.

Tommy was a lifesaver. When he noticed Joel had been struggling, Tommy sat him down and asked to help him. Tommy asked Joel. 

“You deserve a life.” Tommy had insisted.

“Sarah is my life.”

“Joel, you deserve m-”

“Don’t say I deserve more, Tommy. Sarah is enough. I don’t need more.”

Tommy sighed. “I know, brother, but can I at least help you out a bit? Give you a little free time to see that pretty girl of yours?”

Tommy had only met you once, but he liked you too. Joel acquiesced, letting Tommy take care of taking her to soccer practices (but he would NOT miss a game). This did end up being a big help and Joel had more and more time to see you… and when Tommy took Sarah out for a movie or she had plans with friends, he found more and more time alone in the evening with you.

Joel didn’t want to take his hands off your body the first time you and him made out on his couch, but when his hand went to feel up your breasts, you noticeably tensed. Fearing he overstepped, Joel quickly pulled back and apologized. Both of you nervous messes, it took a moment before you and Joel got full sentences out.

“Shit, I’m sorry-”

“No no it’s okay!”

“I just thought-”

“And I want too-!”

“No, I didn’t mean for anything tonight-”

“Oh, uh, right-”

“Not that I don’t want to!”

“Me too!”

Eventually, Joel clarified he was just enjoying feeling you, he didn’t want you to feel pressured into anything ‘like that’, and you explained he can touch you like that, you just wanted to wait a little bit… You sat back, nervous, but figured now was as good a time as any. 

“Actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about, if we could…” You shuffle on the couch.

Joel looks nervous, but open. He wants to know you, good and bad, and if something was bothering you, he wanted to know. “Of course, I’m all ears.”

You take a deep breath. “Do you know what depression is?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah, I have an aunt with it but we don’t really talk about it much… Sometimes Sarah’s school sends her home with pamphlets… so I know a little, I guess.” That’s not what he was expecting.

“Well… I have it.”

“Oh.” He says again, dumbly. “I'm sorry. Or… am I not supposed to say that?”

You can’t help laughing a little. He was sweet, and he was trying. “It’s okay, Joel, and thank you. Well, about 6 months ago I started therapy and started taking an antidepressant, and things have been a lot better but… I need you to understand, things can get really dark for me sometimes and… it can be a lot for other people to deal with. I promise, it’s nothing dangerous to others!” You quickly add when you see his confused face. “It’s just, sometimes I’m not myself… and, if that’s not something you can handle, I want you to know that’s okay.”

Joel sat there for a moment, looking at you. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what depression was… but in the South, it wasn’t like they talked about that sort of thing much. Still, he liked you… he liked you a lot, actually, and he wanted to be there to support you. He couldn’t just run away from difficult times, not when he had a preteen. It would mean he wasn’t fit to be there for Sarah…

“I wanna be there for you.” Joel assured you, to your growing smile. “I may not know how to, but I wanna try my best.”

You smile more, and scoot up next to him, in turn Joel lays an arm around you. “Thank you, Joel”

Still, you were nervous… because Joel hasn’t seen you without sleeves… nonetheless without clothes. 

*

In the end, it was almost 4 months before you had sex. Physically, you’d taken things slow, but emotionally you hadn’t at all. You were in love, and you’d both told each other as much. Tommy had given Joel shit for committing to a girlfriend without having sex, but Joel had told Tommy he could talk after he got an actual girlfriend, not hookups. Still, Tommy wanted to provide a good opportunity for Joel to fuck you the way Joel would want to. Sappy and romantic. So, when Sarah’s favorite band Halican Drops was coming to Housten, Tommy offered to pay for them to go and for a hotel. 

Joel had tried to protest, saying it was too expensive, saying he wasn’t sure he wanted Sarah that far away, and that he should just come, but Tommy smacked him on the head.

“Dumbass, I’m giving you a night with your girlfriend!”

When Tommy promised not to have a single drop of alcohol, text every hour, not let her stand by any men, call when they leave the venue and get to the hotel ETC, Joel allowed it to happen. Sarah was ECSTATIC, being the first concert she’d ever been to, and although a teeny bopper band wasn’t exactly on Tommy’s dream list, he was excited to be a cool uncle. Also, Joel needed to get laid. He was getting cranky at work.

The night itself was a lot of fun. Joel took you to a nice restaurant, and after you came back to his place and changed into more comfortable clothes, you’d spent the night watching American Idol. Joel was very critical.

As the night progressed, your nerves grew as you knew where the natural progression of the night would take you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to fuck Joel; you really, really wanted to. And you weren’t nervous about him. You knew Joel would stop if you said stop. What you were nervous about was your body. Joel looked good, but he had a bit of a stomach himself so you didn’t think he’d be worried about your shape or small imperfections… Joel was a gentle soul, kind, loving. Yeah, that wasn’t the worry. The worry had been on your skin.

In the middle of winter, you’d managed to not show much skin around him, with jackets and long sleeves and pants… but it was inevitable. Joel had been a wonderful support to you these 4 months, holding your hand, listening to you when you cried. Slowly you opened up to him about the circumstances that meant you needed extra help, and he was everything you could ask for. 

But how would he react to this?

Joel had you laid out on the bed, both of you still dressed and his pajama covered pants grinding into your warm cunt. Joel sure liked to take his time. 

“We don’t gotta do noth’n, you know that right?” Joel muttered into your neck, drunk on you but still being respectful like the gentle man he was.

“I know”

He pulled back. “Then why’dya seem so nervous?”

You look up at him, wide eyed and nervous, but you needed this… you needed to tell him the truth. “Joel…”

He got off you, standing up at the edge of the bed. The massive, rock hard erection in his pants couldn’t have been comfortable, but his willingness to stop anyway meant a lot. It was a low bar but it was there.

“We can stop, I’m sorry-”

You sit up on your elbows. “It’s not you, it’s just um… I should tell you something before we start…”

“Okay.” He was few on words, but he looked receptive.

You weren’t sure how to do this, how to open up that conversation… so you decided just to show him. Lights still on, you begin to take off your shirt.

Joel tried to stop you. “Hey, hey, no, let’s talk.”

You smile at him. “We will, Joel, just… let me show you…” After the shirt was off, you slid off your pants and laid on the bed, spread out and close to naked in a bra and underwear.

“Jesus, darl’n…” Joel mumbled, taking in the sight before him. 

Scars littered your body.

It wasn’t a few, it was a lot, and the coverage was significant. Joel’s eyes roamed your body, cock softening quickly despite your near-nakedness and took in the expanse of the scaring. Your thighs were the most noticeable, pink slaves across your skin from the hips to mid-thigh. His hand reached out instinctively, but pulled back. You noticed.

Your voice was soft, reassuring. You knew he was confused and curious. “You can touch me, it’s okay.”

He does. Joel’s fingers a feather light across your skin, feeling the way the scars dipped and raised depending on severity. There there cuts, but also burn mark; small circles from cigarettes twisting up the patterns more. It was all over, reaching back to the curve of your ass. His eyes followed the trail up and the cuts became less in intensity and number, but never stopping over your hip bone and to your stomach. These were lighter; less that split open the skin but the silver lines were still raised over the belly fat as his fingers touched you. Your bra-line showed more burns, and he stopped short of the cloth. 

You take his hands and guide Joel to reach behind you to unclasp the bra, allowing him to pull it up and reveal your breasts. His eyes water as he sees the scars never stopped, marring your breasts, although not nearly the horrific amount on your thighs.

“I don’t understand…” He mumbles, sadness and distress clear in his eyes. “You did this to yourself?” Joel takes your hand in his, examining the scars making a ring around your wrist. He kissed the inside, eyes threatening to pool over.

You nod. “Yeah…”

His voice cracks. “But… why?”

“Sometimes…” You start, overcome with emotions at the clear pain on his face. He loved you so much, the thought of you in this much pain hurt him as well. “It was all I could do to cope.”

He didn’t seem like he understood, but he wasn’t judging you. He didn’t look at you like a freak like so many others did. He just knew he didn’t want you to feel this way again. 

“I havn’t done it in a while.” You give him a smile. “You make things easier. I mean, I’m still… yeah… but you do make things much better.” He did. Having someone who held you, listened to you, helped pick up the pieces… it wasn’t going to cure you, but it was amazing how much support helped with the addition of meds and therapy. 

Joel relaxed at that, a relieved and gentle smile on his face. “I’m glad, darl’n…” He held you hand to his face, chapped lips nuzzling against your damaged skin. “”M here to take care of you now, okay? I wanna help.”

“You do.” You assure him, pulling his face down to you again and taking his mouth in yours. “You mean so much to me Joel, you make me so happy…” His body covers yours once more, his warm encasing you as he protectively holds you.

“You’re safe with me.” Joel mutters against your mouth, fingers digging into your soft flesh.

You pull him closer to you, grinding yourself up against him, enticing him again. “Still want you tonight, please? I can’t wait any longer.” It’s had been a long 4 months and fuck, fuck you wanted him, badly. 

“Always gonna take care of you, princesa.” Joel grinds his jeans-clothed cock against the soft fabric of your underwear, making you shutter. “Gonna take care of my pretty girl, always.”

And god, did he.

Joel’s mouth was sloppy, wet, hot between your legs. His tongue fucked into your hole, prodding you open and his hips bucking against the bed. Insatiable. Arms locked around your legs, his nose nudged against your clit as it seemed he was trying push himself as strongly against your body as he could, to devour you, to bring you and him the most absolute pleasure he could.

You tug at his hair, soft waves in between your fingers as you draw him closer to you. Warmth pooling in your stomach, you felt that pressure grow with every moan, every vibration, every sluuuuuuuuuurp! of your juices, christ he was incredible. You felt elevated, devoted too and adorned in affection the way you had always wanted to be. He was everything in this moment. Joel’s tongue slid up in a swift swipe, mouth and that pouty lower lip latching onto your clit with his fingers pumped into you.

“JOEL! J-ohhhhhh” Your cry for his name melted into moans as you came on his mouth and fingers, crushing his head between thighs as your legs bent. The power of your orgasm caused you to tense and then melt into the bed. You give a low hum as he kisses your inner thighs. As you come to reality again, you register Joel’s sweet kisses all over your legs. He’s kissing the trail of your scars. Joel kisses over the scars on your right thigh and up the crease at your inner hip.

“What are you doing?” You mutter, never for a moment fully let go of his hair.

“Appreciating every inch of you.”

Joel kissed his way up your torso, over the scars under your tits and over the mounds. Latching onto your nipple, he swirled his tongue around the sensitive skin. You can feel him smile against your skin when your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, Joel, your fucking mouth…” You whimper, and when his mouth lets go his hands never do. Softly, he touches you in all the scarred, squishy parts of you you were trained for so long to hate. 

He kissed you tenderly, gentle hands a contrast to his hungry mouth. That tongue, that goddamn tongue…

When he slides in, your eyes can’t help but roll back; your chest rises up against his broad expanse. He filled you so perfectly, fucking deep inside you and filling you up. You never felt so full. Your heart, your life, your stretched out cunt… every part of you was full and euphoric.

“My sweet, perfect girl…” Joel grunts as he pumps into you, hand braced against the headboard and towering over you. You gazed up at him, the yellow lighting of the ceiling fan created a halo around him. Joel looked positively angelic. 

Fitting, as he was your angel.

You were aware how he was perceived in his culésac. Joel was highly respected; kind, hard working if a bit disorganized. A good southern man who raised his brother and daughter well, helped the elderly neighbors, bailed his brother out of pinches and would use his truck to help anyone move. Yeah, people liked Joel. But they wouldn’t call him gentle, like how you feel his hands over your stomach. They wouldn’t call him soft like you felt his stomach against yours. They wouldn’t call him angelic, but that was all you could say as you came on his cock.

They certainly would not call him warm, but that was all you felt as you pulled out and sprayed ropes of cum on your stomach. 

You dozed off to sleep as he spread his cum around your scarred skin.

You vaguely register him cleaning you up, tired and content, and wait for him to join you again. His body felt perfect against your, fitting so well against your body like two puzzle pieces so close together. You had mumbled a request to be dressed, just in case Sarah and Tommy came home early, so you were both cuddled up in sweats under a thick blanket.

Everything with Joel felt safe and warm.

"Scars remind us where we've been. They don't have to dictate where we're going" -David Rossi, Criminal Minds.

******************

So, there we are. I'm very frustrated by the new bought of scars that are quite noticable that I have to wait to fade again but I refuse to be ashamed the way I used to. My scars are just scars from my trauma and illness. It's a moral failing of the people who have and continue to harm me, not mine.

Thank you all for reading, this was quite a venerable piece for me but I see a light at te end of the tunnel, and things will be getting better, I know it <3

@fandxmslxt69 @runa-falls @k-ra @ahookedheroespureheart @mikaelak @littlenosoul @stevenandmarcslove @pikapuff-316 @del-ightfulling @faretheeoscar @harriedandharassed @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @campingwiththecharmings @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @milly-louise @casa-boiardi @joeldjarin @mrs-oharaxx @pedge-page @readingiskeepingmegoing @survivingandenduring @yorksgirl

[leaky-bunny]

yet another episode of "does my girlfriend actually also have a piss kink or am i just reading too much into things?"

(warning: descriptive writing of sucking dick, so if that's an ick for you no worries, just move along)

alright, so this time we had been snuggling on the couch watching a movie when i realized i really needed to pee. i decided i could wait long enough for the scene to be over, but after a few minutes, we ended up starting to make out hot and heavy. i eventually started kissing down her body to her obvious hard-on, and because i fuckin love giving head and will do it at any opportunity, i took her in my mouth without a second thought and got to work.

it was about at this time i was reminded of just how badly i had to go. my bladder was round and pressing into the couch as i bent over, causing me to shiver and wonder if i could actually possibly leak like this. she didn't seem to notice, too immersed in pleasure and stifling her moans to catch my subtle squirming between her legs.

the more worked up i got, the harder it became to hold, and eventually i pulled off and told her in a hoarse voice "i have to pee so bad, i'm sorry hun, i'll be right back." i made a move to get up but was surprised when she threaded her fingers through my hair, pulling me back down whimpering out a "please wait i'm so close, hold it a little bit longer for me."

my brain completely short-circuited, staring at her with wide eyes as i felt myself spike in arousal. without thinking, i deepthroated her in one go and continued sucking, focused on holding all the pee inside of myself for her, even if that's not exactly what she meant. it was so hot, and by the time she came down my throat with a moan, i had let out a couple dribbles into my panties while fighting my desperation. she was leaned back against the couch, chest heaving, and with a smirk said "go on, you can go piss now love." i didn't even respond before rushing to the bathroom and emptying my tired bladder into the toilet, fingers playing with my clit and that stupid smirk of hers plastered inside my brain.

please tell me what you guys think about this? i genuinely can't tell if she's trying to test the waters or i'm just an overthinking piss slut.

[rainychaoloveshack]

hiiii i stumbled across ur blog like a couple days ago and. ive been so obsessed with all ur posts theyre so yummy!!! (ESPECIALLY UR BOOM??? ik u mentioned u werent all that familar with him but,,, that one oneshot had me salivating oml)

anyways could i maybe ask for a sonic x reader where they give him a bath bc he's stinky 🤧 just modern/game is fine smile

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠.

sonic had a nice adventure outside. unfortunately, remnants of said adventure were brought into your home. its bath time.

⋆°•☁︎ content . sonic x gn!reader, fluff, sort of shitpost-esque writing but i still did take it seriously i swear anon

☂︎ wc. 1.1k ☂︎ a/n. hueheh this request had me giggling. silly dirty ass mf 😭😭😭 i was messing around during it huehehe this is your reminder to not take me too seriously sometimes 😋still pretty short but i hope you like it ^^ def not my best work but i hope you like it regardless ^^'

likes, reblogs, and especially comments are extremely appreciated!!! (i like chatting to you guys!)

“You know I can take a simple bath by myself, right?” Sonic growls, watching you kneel down and check the water's temperature for him with your forefinger. Not too hot, not too cold. “Plus, I already took a shower. The dirt’s gone already. No need for a bath, right?” Now why is he acting like that bathtub is going to kill him? 

“Could’ve gotten it all out if you hadn’t pulled me out the shower.” He mutters. “If you had wanted me to take a bath at all, you should’ve said that bef-” You frown, interrupting his rambling by knocking on the side of the bathtub with your fingers in a way that’s telling him to hurry up and get in. You can still smell the mud on him.

And it’s not bad to take precautions. Plus, if the shower didn’t get every single spec of dirt out of his quills, the bath will. Having even one spec of dirt come back inside the house after Sonic’s grand entrance of mud-filled footsteps, and right after you had to clean said mess, might just make you go crazy.

“I already said I was sorry...” He trails off, peering into the tub before taking a step back. You mutter a short curse his way and tug him by his arm, refusing to take no for an answer.

Sonic winces slightly at the volume of the water in the tub but lets out a sigh once he sees your stern expression. “Oh, alright…” He grumbles, spitting out soft curses about his distaste for water as he slips off his gloves, following with his socks right after.

… Paw-beans.

“Hmm?” Sonic’s ear flicks at your small murmuring, turning your way just as he’s about to step into the bath. “You say something?”

You shake your head, trying to make him forget your small slip-up, and urge him into the tub with a small shove. The moment his foot enters the water, you can visibly see a shiver tremble through his body.

“Eugh.” Despite his little complaints, he takes another step in the bubbly water, slowly settling himself into it with unpleasant grumbling, the water reaching up to his chin. “Make it fast. Being submerged in water for too long makes me uneasy…”

Like him? Make it as fast as ‘Sonic speed’, some might say?

His head snaps in your direction, opening his mouth to say something back to your crude teasing, but it closes instantly as you cup water into your hands and pour it over his head, watching it run off his quills and back into the bath.

That shut him up quickly. 

And so it begins.

The water runs down and seeps into his fur, then drips off once it gets too soaked, mixing with the bubbly suds already present. You rub his ear in a slow motion, cupping water up from the bath and pouring it over to get any extra dirt out. So far so surprisingly good; the baths running fairly clear, besides the small bit of dirt or so. Maybe he did get all the dirt out after all? Or maybe it was just his shoes that were the problem? No, then you wouldn’t have seen all those specs of black and brown in his fur. What, did he roll down a hill or-

“Hey, be careful with my quills!” Sonic’s body flinches as you accidentally prod and pull too deeply during your thoughts. “Can’t you be a little more gentle? The bath’s been clear for the past half hour.” He clarifies. “At this point, I’m not sure if you’re still trying to get any dirt out, or if you just like pampering me.”

Oh. Well damn.

Your hand lowers from his head, and it dawns upon you that yes, for once Sonic is actually right about your behavior, and the embarrassment washes over your figure, staggering your motions as you go to unplug the drain, but he stops you with a small kick of his foot at your hand.

“I didn’t say you had to stop.” Sonic mutters, before putting on his best ‘I deserve the world’ act a spoiled child would have towards everyone else. “I’m actually enjoying the attention!” He puffs his chest out, trying to put on a smug face for you, but a splash of water in his face turns that smugness to irritation, shaking his head around like a dog would their body as water flings in every direction possible. You hold your hands up in front of your face, your soaking wet hands dripping onto your lap and the bathroom floor as you shield yourself from the blue blurs little water assault. Ugh. Looks like he’s getting a kick out of your annoyance.

“It’s not so bad.” Sonic says plainly, flexing his fingers in the water in front of him, before adjusting himself to rest his arms on the tub’s edge, resting his head down to let your preen and run your fingers through his quills, forgetting to scrub through them at all. “You know, I wouldn’t mind if you pampered me like this more often.” Sonic reaches over and drags a soggy, wet, finger across your arm, leaving small water droplets on your skin as he moves it up towards your hand, currently resting on your lap as the other one rubs against his shoulder briefly. “Think I deserve it a little, ya’ know?” He shimmies his shoulders a bit, yet his tail wags all the same under the water, eager for your answer, even if you give him a plain ‘no’.

Well, if he could be more aware of himself and clean up after his little escapades, you would. But for now, the punishment bath it is. Though, with the way he was acting at first, someone might’ve thought he was taking a small dunk in acid.

Sonic doesn’t utter a word at your own little joke, but he shakes his head disapprovingly, glaring at you for a few seconds as his eyes flick over you up and down, then he relaxes. “You’re gonna help me dry off after this too, right?” He chirps, and you shake your head, already firm in the belief that you deserve some rest after cleaning up the house. Not to mention the other house chores you’ve already done today.

“Aw man...” Sonic says softly, before growling under his breath in your direction, ears pinning down, obviously in a joking manner, and he flicks some water in your direction off his fingertips, splashing onto your shirt and lap. “You can’t just take me a bath and then chicken out once we’re almost at the finish line! Come on.” Another flick of water comes flying your way, this time hitting you in the face, and you scowl, cupping up some water in your palm to splash it back at him.

“Aw, hey, come on!” His tone of voice makes it sound like a complaint, but his expression is the complete opposite; a fat grin spreads across his muzzle and another small splash of water makes its way to you, soaking your shirt. Oh, so that's how it is?

“What? What’re you gonna do about it?”

Stupid hedgehog. Sometimes it’s a mystery how you haven’t gone crazy by now from all his antics.

… Oh well; time to fetch that towel.

[froggibus]

The Second Choice - Leon S Kennedy

Pairing: Leon S Kennedy x gn! reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2k

Summary: after losing Ada, Leon can’t get her off of his mind—and can’t stop comparing you to her

CW: angst, feelings of inadequacy, second guessing, unhealthy relationship, feelings of loss, allusion to death/loss, Leon comparing you to Ada, alcohol abuse, hurt comfort, groveling (but pretty weak cause I can never stay mad at this man), arguing, insecurities, allusion to panic attacks

honestly have been feeling super angsty the past few days and needed to write a lil angst as a treat to myself lol. definitely not my best work but whatever

————

It’s no secret that after he lost Ada, your boyfriend was never quite the same. Aside from having nightmares for months, he also never quite got over her.

You’d be lying if you said a part of you wasn’t relieved the day he told you the news. She was always a point of contention in your relationship and you felt as though Leon would never be able to fully give himself to you as long as she was in the picture. You thought this would be a new leaf for you guys, a step in the right direction to further progress your relationship.

You’ve never been more wrong.

The first few months of the aftermath were rough. Leon drank more and came home less, and the times he came home made you wish he never did. You tried to take a deep breath and turn the other cheek to his drinking. He’s in pain, you’d remind yourself. He needs time.

It all came to a head one night after he hadn’t been home in almost a week—too busy out on a binge. You had been texting and calling him the whole week, desperately clinging onto him when you knew he didn’t belong to you. He never did.

Leon got home with the worst hangover of his life, hoping to just crash in bed and forget for a while. It had been so long since he slept—the nightmares that plagued him chasing away any hope of rest. But today he felt tired enough and the comfort of having you at home was more than enough to have the man dreaming of sleeping the whole way home.

The last thing he wanted to see was his bed covered in your clothes, a suitcase thrown open on your side of the bed and you desperately rummaging through the closet. “Honey?” He spoke softly, voice raspy from the constant burn of alcohol.

Your head snapped up, red rimmed eyes meeting his. “You’re back.”

“What’s going on? What’s—what’s all this?”

You almost felt bad for him. “I need some time away, Leon. I-I can’t do this anymore.”

“Do what?” He wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“This. The long nights and the drinking and you never coming home anymore. It’s killing me, Leon. And I,” your voice broke and you took a deep breath, “I deserve better.”

Leon felt his heart drop into his stomach, a weight forcing him onto his knees, He looked up at you with glistening eyes, “y/n, please don’t do this. Please. I-I love you, I don’t know who I am without you.”

You sighed, trying to swallow back the lump in your throat. It’s not fair, it’s never been fair. But it’s Leon, and you’ve always loved him, and no matter how angry you were in the moment, you knew he needed you.

“Alright,” you said quietly, placing the suitcase back in the closet.

Hope filled Leon’s eyes once more, like azure sparkling in sunlight. He wasted no time in striding over to you and wrapping his arms around you. He held you so tightly it hurt.

He whispered, “I promise things will get better from here. I promise, y/n.”

—

Leon doesn’t drink as much after that. He comes home at a normal time but even then it feels like your boyfriend is vacant. Gone. The closer he is to you, the further away he seems. 

She’s always on his mind—and he makes that obvious to you. 

Leon’s eyes practically glaze over the day he sees you wearing red. The garment clings to your body in such a perfect way, the scarlet complimenting all of your features perfectly. 

You almost smile at the way his jaw drops. He’s never been a very reactive person so seeing him like this is enough to make you giggle. Of course, that’s before he speaks. 

“Ada had a dress that was almost the exact same colour.”

Your heart sinks at the mention of her name. He’s grieving, you try to remind yourself. It's only natural she’s on his mind. 

“Red was her favourite colour, she wore it all the time.”

You sigh, trying not to let your tensed muscles show. He misses her. It’s okay. But it’s not okay, and your stomach hurts and now you don’t want to go out at all. 

“It’s kinda itchy,” you say quietly. “I’m gonna change.”

And you find yourself tossing the cloth into the bottom of your hamper, never to be worn again. In fact, you don’t feel like wearing red ever again. 

The comparisons don’t stop after that day. Ada never seems to leave his mind, and any time he looks at you, there’s a look in his eyes that says he’s not really seeing you. 

It feels like anything you do, anything you wear, any interest you have—she had it too. 

You’re watching a movie on the couch, cuddled into his side. You have your arms wrapped around one of his, feeling the muscle beneath his skin. 

You giggle and point at the tv, “I love him. He was my favorite character as a kid.”

You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth and Leon turns to look at you. His blue eyes are clouded over with nostalgia. 

“Ada always loved him, too. Only guy that ever made her flustered,” he shakes his head, smiling at the thought of her. 

You can’t help but pull away from him and withdraw to your side of the couch. Leon looks at you in concern, head tilted to the side. 

“Can—can you stop comparing me? I hate that,” your voice comes out exasperated and desperate. 

Leon doesn’t say anything but a confused look takes over his face. His silence is almost worse than his comparisons—almost. 

He’s at a loss for words. He doesn’t know what to say. That’s just how his mind works; he makes connections between things like that. A force of habit he gained from his strenuous line of work. He thought you understood that. 

“Just,” you sigh, pushing yourself off of the couch, “nevermind.”

You trudge your way to the bedroom and throw yourself on the bed, closing your eyes and forcing the tears away. He promised things would get better. He promised. 

—

Leon notices you withdrawing from him after that. Never in his life had he heard you sound so defeated and so angry. You’ve never been good at voicing your feelings, especially not to him, so he knew something was wrong the minute you spoke up. 

“Honey?” He shuffles over to his side of the bed, the mattress dipping down under his weight. 

You don’t answer, drawing your arms and knees closer to your chest. Leon sighs—he’s really messed up. 

“I’m really sorry. I didn’t realize I was making you so upset.” He takes a deep breath, “I just miss her so much, and you know how my brain works and—”

You whimper, “it’s not fair, Leon. You’re not being fair to me here.”

“I-I know! But you knew how things were getting into this so maybe you shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what, Leon?” You snap. 

The blond stays awfully silent, staring at his clenched fists in his lap. He doesn’t know how to talk his way out of this—he doesn’t know how to keep you with him. 

“I think I need some time away.” 

Leon stares at you slack jawed. As soon as you stand up, he’s jumping to his feet too. He practically dives into your way, blocking your path. 

You stare at him expectantly and try to avoid the burning in your eyes. 

He looks at you dead seriously. “For every thing you have in common with her, there’s another thing that you don’t.” 

His words are enough to get you to sit back down on the bed. The beating in his chest settles down as you do. You’re not leaving. 

“She was really athletic for one thing, and a serial flirt. I mean, she was just so beautiful she could have any man wrapped around her finger. And she loved to fight and she loved gory movies and—why are you standing up?”

Leon stares at you in confusion. Did he say something wrong? He doesn’t understand. 

Your mind races a million miles a second. It’s clear from the way he talks about her that he loved her in a way he could never love you. Even from the way he talked about her compared to you. Beautiful, athletic, charismatic. Everything you wished you were, everything he wishes you are. 

“I need to get out of here, I-I feel like I can’t breathe.” You clutch your chest, shoving past him and grabbing your keys and your coat. 

Leon watches you walk out the door, hopeless to do anything to stop you. 

—

Leon waits for you to come home, sitting in a chair by the door for hours. The more time that passes, the more worried he gets that you’ll never come home. He taps his foot in anticipation—a habit he’d never had until now. 

He can’t believe how caught up he got. He was so focused on the ghosts of his past that he forgot about his future. And sitting in this old chair, his ass hurting from sitting so long, he wishes he could go back in time and shut his own stupid mouth. 

It’s nearly 1am when he hears your key in the door. Leon shoots to his feet, standing only a foot away from the opening door. 

The minute you see him, you feel like crying again. You were hoping he would be asleep and you wouldn’t have to have this conversation now. 

You close the door behind you and lock it, not even sparing a look at Leon as you make your way down the hall and to the bathroom. You only get halfway before Leon grabs your wrist and tugs you to face him. 

He drops to both knees in front of you, looking up at you with desperate eyes. “Y/n.”

You shake your head and try to tug your hand away but Leon keeps a firm grip. 

“I am so fucking sorry, y/n. I-I got so caught up in things that I didn’t even realize how I was treating you. I want to make it up to you.”

“You promised things would get better, Leon.” Your voice is shaking dangerously, “but all you’ve done is make me feel like her replacement. Like I’m the next best thing. And it has me second guessing everything. How do I know you even love me for me? How do I know you love me at all?”

Leon’s heart aches at your words. He knew he messed up but he didn’t realize the extent to how unloved he was making you feel. 

“No, no, no. Y/n, no. Look at me.” His eyes are wet, and he looks so vulnerable sitting in front of you on his knees. “I love you. I love you. You and only you. You’re not her, and I know that. I never loved her in the same way I love you.”

Tears fall down your cheeks, splashing on the floor in front of you and Leon. 

He keeps going. “You’re not a replacement. You’ve never been a replacement. You’re the best thing I could have asked for, and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best boyfriend lately.”

Leon slowly rises to his feet, slipping his hands into yours. “Let me make it up to you. Please, let me make it up to you.”

You sigh, biting your lip and trying to force the tears away. “Leon…”

“Let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you, y/n. I will do anything to make you feel happy and safe again.”

And looking into his eyes, you know he means that. 

“Alright, alright, just—” you wipe your eyes and offer a weak smile, “let’s sleep on it, okay?”

Leon nods and lets you tug him to the bedroom. He still has a lot of work to do, but that can wait until the morning. For now, he’s just glad he has you back.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Skull is happy and safe now. But sometimes, the worst habits are the hardest to break.

(Short thing I cooked up while feeling sad. It's pretty angsty, and involves dealing with family death, so be warned, but it has a bittersweet happy ending.)

---

“... Skull?”

...

He didn’t respond. He sat there, staring at the front door, motionless and silent. He’d been like that for almost two hours.

You sat beside him, but he made no move to greet you. He didn’t seem to realise you were even there. It was only when you touched the top of his hand, gently, that he spoke, iris trained unwaveringly on the door.

“... crooks’ll be home soon.” He mumbled.

Ah. Your chest ached... it was one of those days.

... Crooks was Skull’s younger brother. His only family. Skull had told you a lot about him, over the course of your time together- he told you about raising Crooks himself, a consequence of losing their parents at a very young age. He told you about taking care of Crooks before he even knew how to take care of himself. He told you about teaching him to read, to write, to cook, to use magic. He told you about Crooks’ love of puzzles and logic games, his bombastic personality and endless kindness, the hours he spent pouring over junior jumble. He told you about how when his own depressive episodes became too much, Crooks kept him from slipping. He told you about how, since before he could remember, it had always been the two of them. They were an inseparable pair.

...

Crooks had fallen to hopelessness, in the Underground. Only a few years before the Monsters were freed.

... Skull didn’t talk much about those last years. You didn’t ask. But Skull clearly never recovered from losing the last piece of his family. Deluding himself into believing that his brother was simply ‘out’ and would come home soon was his only way of coping. Of surviving.

Even now, he still wasn't good at being alone.

Skull was better, on the surface. He had new friends and acquaintances. New routines, new comforts. He had you- his partner. But sometimes, when he had bad days, he would slip back into the mental patterns that had kept him alive for so long.

... You wondered how many hours Skull had spent, alone in a silent home, down in the Underground. Waiting for Crooks to come back. Staring blankly at a door that would never open again.

...

You took his hand in both of yours. You played gently with his worn, cracked bones... giving him a little more time in a world where his brother was still alive.

...

“Skull?” You said, softly. “... I’m a bit hungry. Could you make me something?”

That was the only thing that ever worked.

...

His eyelight shifted. Then blossomed a little wider... his mouth started to make minute movements, like he was sleeptalking.

“... hungry.” He eventually said aloud. His hand twitched, then carefully curled around yours- he sounded like he still wasn’t all there.

“Yes.”

“... she’s hungry...” His eyelight flickered again. “... get up... she’s... hungry...” 

Skull swayed slightly, then stood. You stood with him... he lumbered to the kitchen, but kept a tight hold of your hand, taking you with him.

...

He was already cutting the steak, when you saw him ‘wake up’. 

There was a noticeable pause, in his ministrations. The previously almost-robotic movements of the knife slowed to a halt. You saw his eyelight shiver... he blinked, then started slowly looking around at the room. 

His line of sight focused on a vase full of flowers. The two of you had set those up, around the house, always within line of sight. Things that would remind him he’s on the surface now.

Two seconds. Three, four...

...

“... sorry.” He mumbled, putting the knife down. There he was; Skull was back. He seemed embarrassed.

“Hey, hey.” You squeezed his hand. “No, don’t apologise. It’s okay. You just needed a minute.”

He sighed, forlorn. “i cut up our good steak...”

“Well. I’d rather you handled that steak than me. I don’t trust myself with something so nice.”

He snorted, trying to hold back his laughter. When he looked at you, his eyelight was big and shiny, and you felt a smile creep onto your face.

“... might as well cook it anyway.” He mumbled, taking the knife up again. “expensive steak for lunch, huh?”

“I’m not complaining.”

Another snort. He was grinning now.

He didn’t let go of your hand... you were impressed he cooked the whole meal one-handed.

[urfavbooblover]

Hi:) can I request a dbh connor x reader fluff? It can be anything you are comfortable with, I only carve for a cute, , nervous, blushing Connor :’)

Hi! Thank you for your request :) I apologize for this late publish, i was taking a quite long break but i still hope you’ll be happy to read this and enjoy it, i had much fun to write this cute imagine btw!

Blushing mess || Connor x gender neutral reader

Warnings: slight cursing but just fluff

(remind me if I missed any)

- Detroit become human masterlist link -

Y/N’s pov:

I was awoken from my sleep, by my annoying alarm, as i rolled onto my other side, reaching out my arm and lazily turning it off, letting out a groan of frustration. Another day of work was waiting for me and i was already not having it. So much shit has been going on lately and it seems like everyone is expecting way too much from me.

I’m surprised Hank is pretty understanding when it comes to my situation, usually he’s a big jerk but we built a good and steady friendship, which lead us to being great work buddies if i’m being honest. He can still be a pain in the ass sometimes.

I sat up on my bed, my mind wandering off to think of one special person. Well, he’s not a person, Connor is more likely a machine, one of the androids to be exact. He has been assigned to work with Hank but they don’t get along very well, i’m full of hope it’ll change any time soon though.

I felt a smile forming to my face, just thinking about him. Connor is probably one of the main reasons i still enjoy work, don’t get me wrong i actually learned to like my job, he just makes it a lot better. I couldn’t help but feel interested in him, he’s not just good looking but i started a liking in his personality too.

I reached a different type of motivation for this day and decided to get ready and have some breakfast. I didn’t notice how fast time was moving forward, so that’s when i rushed out of the house and grabbed some coffee on the way to my working place.

Arriving at the police department central station, i got out of my car, reaching the entrance. I walked in and took a sip of my still warm drink. I greeted my coworkers as friendly as i could be and finally took my seat across from Hank.

“Morning Y/N”, he spoke, gazing up at me from his computer. “Good morning Hank.”, i replied in a somewhat really nice tone, noticing he wasn’t in such a bad mood today. Kind of suspicious if you ask me.

“Oh good morning Y/N. It’s nice to see you again.”, i heard a familiar voice saying, seeing Connor back at Hanks side. “Good morning to you too Connor. It looks like you’re being positive, huh?”, i said, my eyes never leaving him. I’m not quite sure but i could bet i just heard Hank letting out a scoff.

“If Lieutenant Anderson hasn’t told you yet, we got some news for one of the deviants, it seems like he has been spottet somewhere and we’re about to investigate the location. I did a good job myself.”, Connor explained and earned an unamused glance from Hank, who wasn’t too happy about Connor’s own praise.

“Well, sounds great! You guys should inspect and move forward then. I probably got lots of work to finish here.”, i said, expressing the last sentence in a bored tone. “Actually, we want you to come with us on the mission today.”, Connor replied, trying to hide the fact, that his lips formed into a small smile.

“Yea. More like you. It was your idea Connor.”, Hank stated, letting out a huff. He was obviously exposing him there. “What? Uh, maybe i just don’t mind some help.”, he defended himself, blocking off any accusations, even though his face was slightly flushed. Androids could in fact blush, they’re designed so much like humans, it’s crazy.

And I myself couldn’t help but grin at the situation in front of me. “It’s alright guys, i’m glad to come with you. I rather be out from this place anyways.”, i stood up, waiting for them both to return the act, so we could go.

____________________________________________

On the ride to the spot, it was mostly quiet. Connor was the only one who began to talk a lot, explaining everything about the deviant he found out and it was honestly interesting, but i could see from the passenger seat that Hank was annoyed by hearing all of this again.

it didn’t take too long though and Hank finally parked the car. I took a look out of the window, seeing an old house, the color was already coming off and it seems like the people living there didn’t care much about it.

After my small inspection, i opened the door and stepped out of the vehicle. Hank was on his way to the front porch, as i heard another door close behind me. I turned my head, to find Connor right next to me. Was he waiting for me the whole time or why was he still sitting in there?

“The deviant is supposed to hide here. I just know an old couple is living there.”, he spoke up still looking forward, his gaze fixed on the house, before he decided to lock eyes with me. I almost forgot how beautiful they looked.

“Well, makes sense then, that no one took care of it.”, i responded, quickly turning my attention back to Hank, where i was about to walk off to anyway, but i was stopped when i felt a hand gently wrapped around my underarm. “I should mention, Y/N. You look very pretty today.”, Connor nervously smiled at me. I wasn’t even able to respond, cause he was gone in a second.

I don’t think i would’ve ever expected this. He couldn’t even keep the eye contact, was he that nervous? Little did i know, he was practicing how he was going to confront me about it the whole car ride. I like this side of him though.

I was so stuck in my mind, i didn’t even notice anything around me, till- “Y/N! Are you coming now!”, Hank screamed me out of my thoughts. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, realizing they’re both waiting for me. I jogged up to them, my eyes landing on Connor who was grinning from ear to ear.

“You need to-“, “Pay attention, yea yea. I literally just zoned out for a second, it’s not that deep Hank.”, i interrupted his sentence, cause i already knew what he was going to try to lecture me about again. He only sighed at me in response, as i slid past him to enter the house.

“And now? Where is everyone?”, i asked in confusion, us three standing in a completely empty, old fashioned furnished house. “Yea, if you would’ve paid attention earlier, you would’ve known by now.”, Hank responded in his usual sassy voice. “Oh come on Hank, just inform me, instead of going on with ur childish games”

“Nobody responded to our knocks, Y/N. They didn’t open the door, so Hank kicked it in.”, Connor replied instead, a soft expression on his face. I gave Hank a weirded out look, as he shrugged his shoulders. Who cares if he was even allowed to do any of this, i just quickly wanna get this over with.

“Okay, you know what? I will search everything down here. You two, go upstairs.”, Hank commands, already walking away from this scene. I spun around, taking a look at Connor, who watched Hank closely with narrowed eyes.

“Let’s get going, Connor.”, i said, preceding to get up the staircase. He followed shortly behind, as his voice could be heard really close to me. “Hank is pretty hotheaded. He’s somehow always mad at everyone.”, “He got a very short tempter. It’s like he’s always mad at the world.”, i replied.

Connor nodded his head, before i decided to enter one of the rooms. My hand had a tight grip on my gun, that my belt was holding, but it wasn’t needed, the room was just as empty as the rest of the house.

Connor scanned the entire room as he suddenly crouched down, reaching out his arm. I watched as his fingers touched the blue liquid on the floor as he took a taste of it. I’m used to him doing this but i still scrunch up my face every time. “The androids blood is still fresh, he must’ve been here just a few minutes ago.”, he said.

My eyes were wide, interested in what he had to say. “And maybe he saw the cop car and us approaching the house. He probably fled cause he was too afraid to face the situation.”, Connor added to it as i crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Well, wouldn’t you do the same.”, i said with a slight smirk on my face, to which he was taken back. A nervous expression was painted all over his face once again, making my smile just grow wider. “I guess you’re right, Y/N.”, he replied, in a soft voice.

He had such a warm and welcoming look on his face as his eyes were fixed on me. You could say i was melting right on spot, trying not to show it too much. I could see his led on his face turning yellow for a moment, meaning he was just scanning me.

He quickly looked away though, now staring at the ground, which gave me the opportunity to silently watch him. He hasn’t said anything about what he has found out. Was I showing signs of anxiety? Most definitely.

“What’s wrong Connor? Are you nervous?”, i boldly asked, making him raise his head. “Nervous? Oh i was just-“, “You don’t have to lie to me, Connor.”, i chuckled, taking a step closer to him.

His cheeks were flushed and i could swear my heart was racing at this point. I’ve never had a guy being this cute, i also never had something going on with an android, nor have i ever felt anything for one. But with Connor it’s different.

And i wasn’t the only one who was all up in my mind, Connor seemed like his thoughts were overflowing. I may regret this forever now or my future me will be thankful i did this, when i decided to reach for his hand. My fingertips touched his skin as i grabbed his soft hand, my thumb slowly moving over the back of it.

His face was only turning into a deeper red tone and i wasn’t even able to read it. His eyes turned even softer if that’s possible and they were staring right into mine. My knees felt weak, but at least they could still hold my weight, right?

Connor on the other hand looked like he didn’t know what to do at all. I was in charge of the situation, which i myself couldn’t believe with a man like him. But it’s not like i didn’t enjoy any of this. Instead i moved closer to his body, till i could feel his breath, till our lips were only a few inches apart.

Soon to be, there was no space between us left anymore. Our lips finally touched and i was taken by surprise of how good his lips felt on mine. Connor’s lips moved smoothly against my own, my hand moving to the back of his head. I gently took a hold of his wrist, guiding his hand to my waist, placing it right there.

I didn’t know that androids could have such soft lips, due to my lack of experience with them. Connor probably hasn’t had any of them yet, but he’s even cuter this way. I never would’ve thought, that i would make the first move.

The kiss lasted for a good while, but someone just had to ruin it. “Hey guys, have you found-“, Hank rushed into the room, cutting off his own sentence when he saw the scene in front of him. We broke apart real fast as i spun my head around, facing the disappointed Hank.

“Hank we can explain-“, Connor tried to talk, but was now the one to be cut off. “Really?”, Hank said all bored, shaking his head. I could hear out the sarcasm though, he wasn’t mad at us for doing this. “And i thought this would never happen.”, he continued. Right, he was just mad it didn’t happen any sooner.

[dazzlingjaeyun]

𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - 𝐲𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐰𝐨𝐧

✧ in which the attempt to get distracted from your feelings might not end exactly as you planned

jungwon x fem!reader (feat. sunghoon)

genre: mostly angst, some fluff

warnings: skinship, (a tiny little bit suggestive if you squint your eyes), mentions: physical violence, blood, alcohol, cheating, breaking up, toxic relationship, crying, and panic

word count: ~6.8k

a/n: phew, this took me like forever to write but the idea had been in my head for so long. i hope y'all enjoy this read ! ≧◡≦ (i highly recommend to read the teaser to this before for better understanding; it's linked in the pink text -> if you click on 'previously')

↝ dazzlingjaeyun's bookshelf

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

previously:

"you're still not seeing anyone?", his eyes locked with yours again, "i'm sure there are some guys in college who are all over you. maybe you should try your luck?"

he gave you a knowing look, as if he subtly wanted to tell you: get yourself out there and distract yourself from him.

over the weekend, you replayed jay's words in your head over and over again. he wasn't wrong; it wasn't too bad of an idea after all. you wouldn't try to force anything, but you decided to allow things to happen if they decided to roll around. you couldn't keep on sulking over your one-sided feelings, especially not when jungwon was your friend and almost in a relationship. you should be happy for him after all, you thought.

as if on cue, you bumped right into said potentional distraction the following week.

you were rushing down the stairs of the lecture building, eager to catch the subway three minutes later, as you tripped over your untied shoelace and right into someone walking up the stairs.

the force you hit him with made said someone stumble back a step.

before you could realize what happened, you felt a strong grip on each of your arms steadying you, eventually preventing you from falling down the stairs and taking him along with you.

"woah, careful there", you heard his semi-familiar voice as you looked up to meet his widened, chocolate-brown eyes.

"wait... y/n, right?" you nodded slowly, trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together. you remembered his face and his voice, but you couldn't figure out from where.

apparently, you couldn't seem to hide the confusion; the corners of his lips shot up into a smile the same time that a chuckle left his mouth. "sunghoon. we had a group project last semester." right. that's why he looked familiar.

still shocked from the moment, all you could utter was a little "i'm sorry" along with an apologetic smile. "for forgetting and for running you over", you added. only then, you realized his hands were still holding onto your arms. you cleared your throat. "and thanks for um... catching me, i guess?"

he gave you a short smile and loosened the grip around your arms until he let go of them fully. "i mean... i was kinda saving myself", he said, reminding you of how the scenario would have ended hadn't he reacted so fast - namely, with both of you at the bottom of the staircase, probably with at least one broken bone and definitely not with the grin he gave you now. the thought made your stomach twist.

"hey, it's fine", he tried to somewhat comfort you, noticing how all color had left your face. "although, i do think you owe me... for saving your life practically, you know"

he was exaggerating. you knew he was. but it still twisted your stomach a second time, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. relax, maybe he just wants some notes from a lecture he didn't attend. or he has an essay due tomorrow that he didn't want to write. or-

"come to my match tomorrow. if i win, you'll go on a date with me"

what.

your intuition told you to decline. however, the look in his eyes proved that he insisted, and you really did owe him.

maybe you should try your luck, jay's words echoed in the back of your head. right. maybe i should.

without wasting another second, you nodded your head, which caused a smile to spread across sunghoon's lips.

"i still have your number saved. i'll text you the details", he replied as he walked past you and up the stairs a few steps, before he turned around to look at you again. "you might want to tie your shoelace unless you planned to run someone else over"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

the same evening, as promised, you received a text message from sunghoon with the place and the time for the following day.

yet again, your stomach flipped for the split of a second, the thought if you were out of your mind for agreeing on the deal with a stranger clouding your mind. but then again, he wasn't a complete stranger and it was only a college ice hockey match. it would be nice getting your mind off your feelings and any recent events jungwon never hesitated to tell you about.

and that's how you found yourself on your way to the college's ice hockey rink less than 24 hours later. as you walked closer, you noticed sunghoon standing in front of the entrance, carrying a big bag in one hand and holding his phone in the other. you picked up your pace for the last few meters.

"sorry, i lost track of the time while getting ready", you greeted him. he looked you up and down for a second before smiling softly. "don't worry, it was worth the wait."

you felt yourself smiling slightly at the compliment, your cheeks covered in a light pink shade.

sunghoon guided you inside and to a seat in the first row, waiting for you to sit down before he spoke. "i have to change and warm up now. do you need anything before i go?" you shook your head.

"i'm wearing number 7 so watch out for me. and remember, if my team wins", he said, confidence radiating from his voice, "you owe me a date". he gave you the hint of a grin before disappearing to what you assumed was the locker room.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as time passed, you found yourself feeling more and more invested in the match. although you had no knowledge about any rules, and the players' movements were too fast for you to follow, you quickly adjusted to the speed of the match and started to put the puzzle of possible rules together. as soon as it started to make sense to you, your interest grew bigger.

you hadn't noticed how you had unintentionally followed a certain player's every move until you cheered for a goal he scored, his head turning to look at you and his eyes lighting up as they met your cheerful ones. you swore you could see him giving you a quick wink, before turning on his skates to continue the match.

even as the match was over and the crowd of people around you started leaving, you were still trying to figure out if the fast rhythm of your heartbeat was due to the adrenaline in your body that the game had caused or due to your tiny interaction with said certain player. back number 7. said certain player, who you now owed a date.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

after your date with sunghoon, you found yourself accompanying him to every single one of his weekly matches, not even cancelling when you really had to finish an assignment that was due the end of that day - and that you hadn't even started. besides the matches, that had by now become like a weekly ritual for you, the two of you spent more and more time together, getting to know each other better and growing closer.

he would wait for you after your classes so he could walk you home - something you would usually refuse to do. but walking meant you didn't have to take the subway that was, more often that not, packed to a point that the doors barely closed. and walking with sunghoon meant spending some extra time with him, listening to how his day went and telling him about yours, and sometimes, just sometimes, it also meant having him holding your small hand in his bigger one, your fingers softly intertwined.

you would come over to his place after his practice, to order dinner and watch movies until one of you fell asleep cuddled up against the other.

the two of you would go out on dates, although neither of you officially addressed them as such, and you would slowly begin to feel more and more comfortable around each other.

what had started as a deal - all because you almost knocked him over on the college stairs a few months ago - and as sort of a distraction from your one-sided feelings for your best friend, had by now become a part of your life. a part that made your stomach all fuzzy and your heart warm up each second you spent together.

the plan to distract yourself, however, seemed to work - if jay's judgement was anything to go by, at least. a few weeks ago, you had finally briefed him on the entire situation with sunghoon. part of you felt bad for not letting him know earlier, mostly because he had given you the idea of 'trying your luck', but you had wanted to wait until things were more settled.

jungwon, on the other hand, didn't know yet. remembering how you'd felt whenever he was telling you about the girl he'd liked when you still had feelings for him, you decided to keep everything concerning sunhoon a secret from him. at least for now that the relationship with his girlfriend was in a slump that it couldn't seem to get out of. given your feelings a few months ago, you would have probably been happy to hear the news - although you hated yourself for that - but now that your heart didn't stung anymore at the thought of your friend with another girl, you felt bad for him.

if jay had told him already, which he pinky-promised he wouldn't do, jungwon was very good at hiding. or his mind was elsewhere. just like now, during your weekly bar-catch-up-meeting, when he didn't really seem to listen to jay's updates. you didn't have to ask him; you knew what lay heavily on his heart - and it made you feel even worse about your decision to introduce sunghoon to them that night. but recent events had sort of pushed you to finally do so;

a few days ago, the two of you were sitting in a café for one of your (unofficial) dates, when sunghoon suddenly handed you a bag. hesitantly, you took it from his hands and lurked inside. after shooting him another glance, and earning an approving nod from him, you shoved your hand inside the bag, grabbed the piece of fabric and slowly pulled it out. although you immediately recognized the familiar colors of the jersey, you unfolded it slowly, the '7' on its back confirming your suspicion.

"it's my jersey... my spare one, don't worry, it's clean", he added hastily. "it's to...", he reached up to scratched the back of his head, a tiny hint of nervousness spreading across his face, "to have a reminder of why we started dating in the first place, sort of. you can wear it to my matches from now on", he declared sheepishly.

the smile on your face grew wider with every word he said. "that's cute... thank you, hoon", you leaned in to quickly peck his cheek, only resulting in your own cheeks heating up even more. "i'll always wear it from now on"

you couldn't help but notice the warm, bubbly feeling the gesture caused in your stomach. it was a small one, yet it felt somewhat so big, so official.

you bit down on your lower lip at the thought. you had been meeting regularly, and when you didn't fall asleep at each other's place, you had been calling every night, even if it was just to say good night. sunghoon would keep his hand on the small of your back when you were walking and sometimes you even held hands in public. now that you thought about it, it did feel official. but it wasn't. neither of you had ever addressed the title-topic, until -

"will you finally be my girlfriend?"

now that you were official, you didn't want to hide it from your friends anymore, although jay technically knew. he just didn't know about the boyfriend girlfriend kind of thing.

you knew now wasn't the right timing, but a quick glance at your phone and the incoming message from sunghoon that he'd just arrived, told you that it was too late to change your mind.

just a few moments later, you saw sunghoon appearing near the entrance, his gaze scanning the bar until his eyes finally met yours and softened slightly at the sight. he gave you the hint of a smile and waited for a sign from you that he could walk over to the table you shared with your two friends. they were sitting with their backs to the entrance, so they hadn't seen him yet when jay finished with his weekly update just a minute later.

for the first time in a while, you rose to speak without jay needing to ask you to do so.

"i have kind of an update this week", you said sheepishly, looking over their shoulders to give sunghoon a tiny nod. he took the hint and made his way to your table. "actually, i want to introduce you to someone"

just in time, sunghoon walked past the table and stopped next to you, giving you a short smile and mouthing a 'hi' before looking at your friends.

"jay, jungwon", you pointed at them as you named them, "this is sunghoon", you introduced the three guys to each other, hesitating to continue. the last boyfriend you'd introduced to your friends had turned out to be a complete disappointment, and ever since, you hadn't been in a relationship again. now, it felt almost weird to open up to your friends about this topic.

sunghoon sensed your slight nervousness and softly placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a short, careful squeeze - as if to give you a sign that it was okay to continue.

"he's my boyfriend", you finally said, a nervous smile spread across your lips.

jay bit his lower lip to surpress a grin, but he gave you a look that said i knew it, before quickly standing up and reaching out his hand to greet sunghoon.

jungwon, on the other hand, hesitated before he mimicked jay's action.

he's my boyfriend. your words echoed in his mind, even long after sunghoon had sat down next to you.

my boyfriend. his brain replayed the scene over and over again like a broken record.

while his elder friend interviewed the couple about how they had met and so on and so forth - although, in secret, he already knew the story - jungwon paid no attention to any word spoken at the table. his focus moved from the hand sunghoon had casually placed on your thigh, to your smaller hand on top of his, and back to his hand and his thumb that slowly and softly caressed the skin on your thigh that your skirt exposed. then, to the smile that spread across your lips as you were talking about whatever, the short moments of eye contact you'd share with your boyfriend, the way his lips curled up when he talked about the relationship, and finally the short peck he placed on your cheek that painted your cheeks a light pink.

jungwon's chest felt tight. uncomfortably tight. tightness, paired with a stinging pain on the left side of his chest that spread like a wildfire to his stomach. with just a hint of hope, he picked up his phone from the table to check for a notification - only to feel even the last bit of optimism shatter to pieces, as he saw the empty screen. no message. no call. no nothing. of course.

only a few weeks ago, he used to experience all these tiny moments that you and sunghoon now shared, too. only a few weeks ago, he'd looked as happy as you did now. had felt as much in love as you did now, maybe even more. only to find all of that slowly fading away more and more with each day that passed, like an old photograph that had been too exposed to sunlight.

now that he saw it happening in front of him, he swore he could hear his heart ripping a little in his chest.

he didn't know if he should blame it on the alcohol in his blood or on the current situation with his own girlfriend when a spark of anger mixed with the sadness he felt. you were aware of his situation, yet you decided to introduce your boyfriend to them that night?

then again, he had no right to keep you from having a good time just because he wasn't. and if the look on your face and the way you slightly leaned against sunghoon were anything to go by, you did have a good time. but who guaranteed that, after all? the last time he'd been introduced to a boyfriend of yours, the relationship had turned out to be the prime example of a disaster.

paying close attention to sunghoon's every move, jungwon's grip tightened around his glass when his gaze went down to his hand on your leg again and he swore he saw it moving up your bare skin just by an inch.

jay, who'd learned to read his best friend's body language in next to no time over the several years of friendship, stepped on jungwon's foot under the table and shot him a confused look that caused the younger to empty whatever liquor was left in his glass and swallowing part of his anger along with it.

a few hours later (or more like what felt like an eternity to jungwon), your night out ended with bidding goodbye's to each other, a friendly 'it was nice meeting you' from jay and a more drunk than sober 'you better not hurt her' from jungwon.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

while jay contacted you a few times after your night out, asking the usual how are you's and the not-yet-usual how are things with sunghoon, you'd heard nothing from jungwon. you'd tried to reach out to him, but he had kept your communication to a minimum, his replies coming late, short and dry - if even.

that was until you found him in front of your door the next thursday night, after he had successfully woken you up by ringing the doorbell almost non-stop. when you opened the door and saw him standing in front of your apartment, you were ready to throw all kinds of complaints right at his face. because where did he get the audacity from to randomly pay you a visit past your bed time, when he knew for a fact how much you cherished your sleep and especially when he'd barely talked to you over the past week.

however, it took only a second look at his face for you to quickly close your mouth and swallow your complaints. you'd seen him feeling down before, but you'd never seen him like this. dark circles marred his usually bright eyes - eyes that were now red, either from anger or from tears. his skin was pale and his lips looked like they hadn't formed a smile in days. you couldn't quite make out his expression, swinging somewhere between the lines of sadness and sheer emptiness.

suddenly, it didn't matter that he interrupted your sacred sleeping time. worry rushed over you as you wordlessly stepped aside, eyebrows furrowed and lower lip sucked between your teeth, to make space for your friend to enter.

after jungwon had hesitantly stepped inside your apartment, you carefully grabbed his wrist, leading him to the living room and putting both your hands on his shoulders, pushing down softly until he sat on the sofa. your soft touch left tiny sparks on his skin that lingered there even after you left the living room again.

as you came back moments later with a mug of tea in both hands, you found jungwon still sitting in the same position. his gaze stuck to his knees, almost as if he didn't dare to look at you.

you exhaled a small sigh, before handing him one of the cups, placing the other on the small coffee table. you grabbed a blanket from the other side of the sofa and carefully put it around his shoulders in hopes it would somehow comfort him.

after you sat down next to him, it took him only the blink of an eye to blurt out all the thoughts that clouded his mind at once.

"i'm sorry for bothering you at this time, i know you were probably sleeping and i really tried to reach jay, but he didn't answer his calls and he wasn't home and-... and i know i didn't even talk to you properly the past days but-"

"jungwon.", you interrupted him, softly placing your hand on his upper arm. "what happened?"

he was right. you were sleeping and he hadn't talked to you properly the past days, but that didn't matter anymore. your chest felt tight at the sight of your friend in such a state.

you could hear jungwon release a long sigh before he said the words you'd already expected to hear: "we broke up."

you listened attentively as he gave you a summary of the previous happenings. it sounded like the prime example of a nasty break up; hour long arguments with a lot of screaming and crying included. trying to make up, only to fuck it all over the next second. you could feel your heart aching for him, only imagining how overwhelmed he must have felt, especially after being so in love.

"oh, jungwon...", you sighed once he was done, taking his hand that had started shaking in his lap at the memory of everything he told you in yours and giving it a careful squeeze.

his shaking hand came to a halt at your soft touch and for a reason unknown to himself, jungwon wished that you'd never let go.

"i'm so sorry", you broke the silence again and slowly let go of his hand, leaving it cold without your touch.

you knew he would talk to you or jay whenever he felt the need to and you certainly didn't want to push him to speak, nor dig too deep with further questions.

"comfort movie and ice cream?"

jungwon's lips curled into the hint of a smile just for the blink of an eye before it disappeared again and he nodded.

"comfort movie and ice cream"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

even a week later, jungwon caught himself thinking back to the night he rang your doorbell in despair and how you'd comforted him so effortlessly. he swore if he thought about it hard enough, he could still feel your warm touch around his wrist, on his shoulders, on his arm, and on his hand. sometimes, he even caught himself wondering what it would feel like to hold your hand for longer, or how much comfort it would give him to hold your body close to his if only the tiny amount of skinship had felt like this. like the first ray of sunshine after a storm. like home.

although he knew he had no business to neither think nor feel like that, his mind tricked him into the same train of thoughts over and over again. and whenever it happened, he'd feel guilty. he'd hate himself for letting his thoughts wander back to you so frequently, knowing it was straight up egoistic. you had comforted him that night. you had given him the tiny bit of affection that he'd been so deprived of ever since his relationship went downhill - even if it had just been platonically. he blamed the fact that you were running laps around his mind on the situation he'd been in, but that only made it worse. knowing he was only longing to relive these tiny moments with you for the sake of feeling at ease - of forgetting about his break up. or so he thought.

over the next few weeks, he was proven wrong. he couldn't say he was over his ex girlfriend yet, but she for sure started to matter less and less to him. at the same time, thoughts of you clouded his mind more often than he'd liked to admit.

at first, he'd tried to shrug it off. but as time passed, he couldn't deny the small pang in his chest whenever sunghoon picked you up from your night outs, whenever he saw your phone light up from a notification, the picture of you and sunghoon that you had put as your lockscreen greeting him, or each time you posted your boyfriend on social media - being all lovey-dovey, of course.

if he thought all of these feelings were just caused by the sudden lack of love in his life at first, by now he was sure that they were the outcome of the lack of your love.

you, on the other hand, blamed any glares at your boyfriend, any of jungwon's sighs at the sight of you two together, and any other more or less weird behaviour from jungwon on the fact that he was still not over his break up and simply felt a bit uneasy at seeing love happening right in front of him.

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

as the weekend rolled around, you were hoping that saturday afternoon would not only lighten up jungwon's mood overall, but also ease the uncomfortable tension between the two of you.

it was jay's birthday and as per his wish, you met up with him and some of his other friends from college to play bowling all together. you had been hesitant about letting sunghoon tag along, given the circumstances with jungwon and you not wanting to be the reason for a ruined birthday, but jay, who had also grown closer to sunghoon over time, convinced you otherwise.

although you were enormously behind in points, the game was fun and everyone seemed to have a good time. small waves of relief washed over you each time you saw jungwon scoring a strike, followed by a cheerful jubilation. finally.

it was your last turn before the game was over. even though your chances of winning were zero, you still tried your best to at least hit a few pins - just so the results wouldn't be as embarrassing. and against your own expectations, you indeed scored a solid seven.

when you turned around, jungwon tried his best to surpress a proud smile at your result. there was no need. it would have gone unnoticed by you anyways, your eyes falling right on sunghoon, his wide smile and his opened arms that embraced you in a short hug after you approached him.

"see, i told you; you just need some practice and you'll do well", he mumbled in your hair, leaving a soft peck on top of them, before he let go of the hug, cupped your face in his hands and captured your lips in a short but loving kiss.

"i guess seven is my lucky number", you replied jokingly flirtous.

sunghoon opened his mouth to reply, but was quickly interrupted by an annoyed groan coming from the other side of the table.

"you guys are gross"

the glare you gave jungwon for his words made his insides twist and he decided to keep whatever else words he wanted to throw at you - out of pure jealousy, admittedly - to himself.

in fact, you didn't hear any other word from him that day, until you used a moment in which sunghoon and jay were busy discussing whether baseball or ice hockey was better, to follow jungwon as he excused himself to the restroom. you were dedicated to confront him about the prior situation.

"what the fuck was that for, jungwon?"

he raised his eyebrows cluelessly.

"you know what i mean. it was unnecessary. and not exactly respectful." you crossed your arms in front of your chest, looking at him expectantly.

"it hurts seeing you with him."

fuck. his own eyes widened as the words of confession left his mouth. out of all the lies he could have come up with, did he really have to say the truth?

you sighed, dropping your arms to your sides. "listen, jungwon. i'm sorry about your break up and your loss, but just because you ended your realtionship doesn't mean that i have to-"

"am i not being obvious enough?", he interrupted, causing you to look at him in disbelief.

"what? i don't think i'm rubbing your nose in-"

"oh, cut the cap, y/n", he interrupted again, a slight hint of annoyance shadowing over his words this time. he blamed it for the sudden confidence it gave him as the next words just rolled off his tongue without any warning.

"you really don't understand i'm in love with you?"

the words hit you like a punch in the gut, its pain spreading all over your stomach as you took a step back.

this world cannot be so sick and twisted, you thought as the uneasy feeling made its way to your chest like a heavy weight that made it hard to breathe.

you swallowed hard, as if that would subside the feeling.

"i don't think this is the place and time to have this conversation now", you tried your best to stay calm, although all you wanted was to run off and escape the situation.

"why?" jungwon asked, and with each step he took towards you, you took a step back. "cause your boyfriend is just a few steps away?"

your heart was hammering against your chest.

"and what if he hurts you?", he continued.

memories of your previous relationship, memories which you had worked so hard to shove all the way to the very back of our mind, hit you like a wave. what if he hurts you?

you shook your head in an attempt to shake them off, trying to keep your cool with the attempt of a deep breath. you wouldn't panic. not here, not now.

"what would you know about his intentions?"

"nothing. but i don't trust him and i know about mine. you can still choose me over him and we'll-"

"stop", you said sternly. your head hurt and everything was spinning. "stop making everything about you." words left your mouth before your head was done forming them into sentences. "i had liked you for so long before and you never cared how i felt when you talked about her non-stop."

jungwon's eyes widened as your confession rang in his ears. "i...", he swallowed hard, "i care about how you're feeling"

"i'm feeling happy now. you care? then don't ruin this for me"

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

weeks later, the stress the situation had left you in, had calmed down. you were laying on the side you claimed as yours on sunghoon's bed, scrolling through tiktok and effectively procrastinating on your studies. after sunghoon had left to meet with his study group, you were alone in his apartment. he'd offered you to tag along, but after you'd declined, you just decided to stay in his place so you could spend the evening together once he came back.

after a few more minutes of scrolling, you finally put your phone down and started studying. just when you felt too exhausted to continue, you heard keys turning in the lock of the front door. what a timing.

you quickly closed your laptop, stood up and made your way to the front door to greet sunghoon, only for him to quickly rush past you, not even granting you a look, but instead keeping his face down.

you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion and turned around to follow him.

"babe?"

you tried to understand what it was that caused him to act like that all of a sudden. everything was fine when he left. your mind started racing about all the things you could have possibly done wrong when he shut the door to the bathroom right in front of your face.

he didn't lock, but you didn't want to enter like an intrudor, so you took a deep breath before carefully knocking on the wooden door.

"sunghoon?"

when you heard nothing but the sound of water running, you decided to open the door slowly, little by little, until you could see him leaning over the sink and washing his face.

when you caught sight of the sink, painted in red, an alarm went off in your head. you quickly rushed over to him and stopped his attempt to splash more water on his face by grabbing both his wrists, tight but careful enough to not hurt him.

when he finally faced you, your heart dropped. his lip was slightly bruised and blood ran down his nose. you gave him a worried look to which he averted his gaze.

a few moments later, he was sitting on the edge of the bathtub with you kneeling in front of him, cleaning up the blood on his face and treating his wounds. although you were careful, you could hear him hiss in pain from time to time.

"are you going to tell me what happened?", you broke the silence while tapping a tissue on his lip.

no answer.

you took his hands in yours, scanning his knuckles for any injuries.

"you didn't fight back", you established.

still no answer.

you stood up with a sigh, ready to leave the bathroom, when only one word from sunghoon made you freeze right at the spot.

"jungwon."

.｡*ﾟ+.*.｡

when you didn't find jungwon at his place, you drove to the café he recently started working at, in hopes of finding him there. you knew he was busy working, if he was there, but you couldn't care less.

sunghoon had tried to talk you out of it, practically begging you to just let it be and to stay home with him, and the memories of the last time you tried to tackle a problem with jungwon weren't exactly encouraging you to do so again, either. everything told you to not confront jungwon about the whole situation, but anger got the best of you when you, nevertheless, decided to do so.

when you arrived to the café, you caught a glimpse of the counter, half relieved to see jungwon behind it, half not. not wanting to cause a scene, you waited in the queue until it was your turn.

"hi, what can i get-"

jungwon's words got stuck in his throat when he realized who was standing in front of him.

he believed in coincidences, but this would be too much of an coincidence, even for him. he knew you knew.

"let me guess, your lovely boyfriend told you already?", he cocked an eyebrow.

"care to explain?", you asked back, mimicking his attitude.

instead of replying, he left his spot, grabbed a glass and started to add ingredients you couldn't quite make out from the speed he was working at. once he was done, he placed it on the counter in front of you.

"i'm off in half an hour", he slid the glass across the wood, closer to you, "if you wait, i'll tell you after. the coffee's on the house."

and without another word, he turned to the next customer, ready to take their order.

you sighed, but grabbed the drink and sat down in an empty chair, swirling the straw. you hadn't exactly planned for the day to end with you sitting there, waiting for jungwon to finish his shift, and sipping on a coffee that tasted surprisingly good - but here you were.

a few minutes later, jungwon, who was now changed out of his working clothes, approached your table.

"i told you to stay out of it", you said, before he even had the chance to say anything. "what makes you think getting involved and punching him was okay?"

how and where did you two even meet? why did you start this, and why didn't sunghoon fight back? tons of questions rose up all at once, making it hard to not lose your focus.

instead of replying, he silently reached out his hand, to which you just gave him a confused look.

"you won't believe me, anyways. so i'll show you."

not sure how to feel about what he had to show you, you hesitated before standing up, but refusing to take his hand. you followed him through a door that prohibited access to customers with a sign that read 'staff only'.

without a word, he sat down in front of a big computer screen, repeatedly clicking on different things with the mouse and tapping on the keyboard here and there. his narrowed eyes indicated he was searching something.

an uneasy feeling crept up on you, spread from your stomach, to your chest, and finally the rest of your body. you had no clue what jungwon was about to show you, but what you were sure of was that it couldn't be good.

"got it", he finally said, after what felt like an eternity. part of you was curious to see what he'd show you, while another, bigger part was eager to run away and pretend the day had never happened.

hesitantly, you took a few steps into his direction, until you could see the screen. at the second glimpse, you understood that what you saw in front of you on the screen was the café you'd been sitting in less than five minutes ago. he was showing you the café's cctv file.

"that was right before my shift", jungwon said, before he clicked play and leaned back for you to see the screen better. although, when you saw and realized, you wished your vision was blocked.

what you saw was no one other than your boyfriend sharing a table with an unfamiliar girl, both of them sitting a little too close to each other for your liking. you weren't a jealous person per se, but you also had boundaries. and your boyfriend's arm around the shoulders of a random girl you didn't know came very close to crossing them.

you tried to tell yourself that they were waiting for the other members of their study group, but no one else arrived, and nothing on the table looked like studying.

your stomach sank further and further, pearls of cold sweat pooled in the palms of your hands and your knees started to feel weak the closer the two got to each other. by now, you were anticipating what you saw next, but you still clung desperately to the tiny bit of hope that you had left; that told you you were exaggerating and it would be fine.

but even that tiny spark of hope died when you saw exactly what you'd expected to see. your boyfriend leaned in for a kiss.

your breath got caught in your throat and by now you knees felt like they'd give in and let you hit the ground.

the last thing you saw on the screen was jungwon pulling sunghoon away and placing a delicate punch right in his face without hesitation - then the screen went black.

it wasn't until you saw your reflection in the screen that you realized jungwon had stood up and placed his hand on the small of your back, as if to steady you.

silent tears rolled down your cheeks until they fully blurred your vision. what if he hurts you, jungwon's words from several weeks prior replayed in your head.

before your mind could wander off to questions such as how long it had been going on or what you did wrong to get cheated on, you were pulled into a tight hug.

jungwon held you through your sobs, let you soak his shirt in tears and carefully stroked your back in an attempt to calm you down.

although his heart was aching, ripping a little every time you let out another bitter sob, he held you tight to his chest as if keeping you close to him could protect you from all the bad in the world. oh, how he wished it could.

after you'd calmed down, he slowly let go of you, taking his hands off your back and on your cheeks instead, cupping your face and slowly wiping away your tears.

"now if after this you still don't choose me over him, i don't know either", he tried hard to make it sound like a joke, "also, my skills in making coffee are immaculate, so..."

the last part elicited a small chuckle on your behalf that quickly died again.

"i need time, won"

he nodded and gave you a soft smile, your face still cupped by his hands.

"as much time as you need", he said softly, "whenever you feel ready, i'll be here waiting for you, okay? as long as it takes you"

‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊

© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.

taglist: @ilovejungwonandhaechan @aloloveswonie @jungwonloverr @laylasbunbunny @rawrszh @avacelestepereira @aishigrey @ilabjungwon @heeheeyeoiizz01

join my taglist here

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Would you write something where the reader feels some kind of insecurity and by talking about it with Spencer she feels better? Only if you want!

“Spencer,” you murmured from the front desk.

It was already night in the bullpen and there were only the two of you left, so your friend didn't even look up from the reports he was reviewing to respond to you.

"Yeah?"

“Do you think I'm weird?”

"Definitely"

The response had been sudden and playful, probably without any intention of hurting you, but the pencil crashing into his long, golden hair forced him to look at you only for him to realize that you were expecting a different kind of response.

“I'm serious,” you insisted, a little sterner than the first time you spoke.

Spencer observed your lightly made-up face with a smile, not too much to make you look vulgar but enough to enhance your features, and stopped to connect with your eyes, obviously restless.

"Why do you ask me that?"

“Do you think I am?”

“There are many kinds of weirdness, sometimes they don't necessarily involve something bad.”

“Yeah, but I mean like awkward weirdness. You know, those people who are suddenly too loud or too annoying or too… I don't know, just like they don't fit in.”

The tone of genuine concern made him frown and he suddenly wondered why you were having those kinds of thoughts. Had the team done anything to make you feel this way? Spencer wasn't very good with social cues and that's why he constantly felt like a weirdo, but he never believed that someone like you would have those kinds of fears.

You were always so kind and pure, like you didn't care about anything. You had a lovely way of saying things and you brought joy wherever you were. You and Garcia were the best of friends because of that, thanks to the surprising optimism you both seemed to share even in the worst situations.

And then there was him, who loved you like he had never loved any girl even with the few years you had known him. You were passionate about completely random things and he listened attentively to all your talks about why seahorses carry their children or about the life of butterflies or about strange weather phenomena.

Spencer had always seen a little of him in you and that's why he felt great affection, as well as trust.

“I don't think you are. Not like that”

“It's just that the other day... with that officer in Washington I felt pretty stupid, you know?” you started to say. He thanked his eidetic memory because he knew exactly what incident you were talking about. “She was so pretty and professional and I felt like I was thirteen again with a mean girl. And on those occasions I see myself and, I don't know, I feel very weird”

“So what if you are?” He asked nonchalantly, “We all are, haven't you seen who you sit in front of every day?”

That comment finally brought out one of those smiles that he loved to see on your face and so he took it as a victory.

“You're right, it's nonsense.”

“I don't think it is,” he murmured gently. “It's a valid fear, but if you want a professional’s opinion I wouldn't describe you with that adjective. You're not weird, you're more like... unique”

Another smile flooded your face and then you looked away, slightly embarrassed to be having that conversation with your coworker.

"Thanks for being honest"

“Don't be ashamed of who you are. You are wonderful, we are lucky to have you here” he continued. He didn't even have to go out of his way to seek praise for you, his mouth spewed it out as if worshiping you was his full-time job.

“I love you, Reid, have I ever told you that?”

“Not as much as you should, but yes,” he responded and one of your laughs filled the air.

“How about we leave this for tomorrow? And I’ll take you home” you offered and he smiled.

Spencer's voice describing you as something unique would accompany you for the rest of the night and would repeat itself in your mind every time the situation warranted it, reminding you that, in the right eyes, we are all special.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @instabull @rhiannonhippiegirl @r-3dlips @missabsey @olivia’s-25 @liptonsbabe

[catsushizz]

My Belle - S.R

Spencer Reid x Fem!reader

Warning: fluff at first then just angst, death, grief, major character death (do tell me if I miss something)

Summary: Spencer loves you like it was breathing but what would he do when that source of oxygen is gone?

a/n: first time writing Spencer, I'm a sucker for the angst I hope you like it!

---

Look how she lights up the sky...

Spencer heard it from a mile away which brought a small smile to his lips, he heard footsteps which isn't surprising that he knew it was yours because of the skip of your steps and that melody you kept humming.

He heard you open the door still humming the song as you took off your shoes. "Hey, Angel," he says lovingly as he greets you by the door.

You smile and kiss him on the cheek "Hello Dr. Handsome" he chuckled at the endearment and engulfed you in a tight hug.

You have been dating for 3 months and Spencer knew he was going too fast by telling you to share an apartment with him but that lingering doubt quickly disappeared as fast as it came when you suggested it yourself.

Spencer knew you were it for him. He knows your favorite movies to your favorite songs he knows almost everything about you actually.

You hummed the song and dragged Spencer to the living room "What got you in such a good mood?" Spencer chuckled.

"Having you all by myself today" you grinned, resting both of your hands on his shoulder. Spencer couldn't stop smiling, he was looking at you fondly, his hand on your waist as if it was meant to be there.

"Let's dance" you whispered, nuzzling your head to his chest "Explain how we are gonna dance with no music-"

"So far above me yet I...know his heart belongs to only me" You smile as you sing the song, you love changing the lyrics, Spencer specifically loves it when you change Evangeline to his name he remembered hearing it for the first time and he couldn't stop thinking about it for months.

"Je t'adore, Je t'aime Spencer" You chuckled at how off-key it was but it didn't matter when you saw that sweet smile of his. You started guiding him to move, your head resting near his heart and his finger stroking circles on your waist as he held you closer. Loving you was something he wished he had done a long time ago, he wished that he was there your whole life.

It became a routine, you dancing with him.

After a bad case, you'd sing for him, and if he was feeling down you'd urge him to stand and dance with him and that always made him forget why he was sad in the first place. He would never get tired of that song or your voice. Whenever you fight it always ends up with both of you in each other's arms and in tangled bed sheets in the morning.

3 months turned into a year and a year turned into 4 years and now you're engaged, his love never withered and neither did yours.

his team always asked him how he got so lucky he didn't know the answer to that and he just thanked whatever God that brought you to him.

But the gods were cruel. They give and they take.

He visited your grave every day with fresh flowers in his hands but they always ended up disheveled from how tight he was holding them. Everything changed after you left, he changed and he no longer rambled about his fun facts to the team, in fact, they hadn't heard him laugh or smile in a while.

He'd get snappy with them whenever they asked a simple question, his state wasn't any better too, he looked as if he needed to seek professional help.

"Spence?" JJ knocked on his apartment door but received no answer, she was about to try again but the door swung open. Spencer stood there annoyed and a frown displayed on his lips.

"What?" He asked, he didn't mean to sound so harsh but he was just having a hard time, he had a nightmare again, usually, it was you who would coax him until he calmed down but you were gone and it was a painful reminder every time he wakes up from a bad dream, he would much rather prefer to be stuck in that dream than face the truth.

"can I come in?" JJ's voice is gentle that was something he came to despise, everyone has been walking on eggshells whenever he's around and he hates it because it just makes him remember that you were gone.

Spencer let her in reluctantly, JJ's gaze darted everywhere in his apartment, it was a mess. She looked at Spencer with worry, a question hanging from the tip of her tongue.

As if sensing it, Spencer sighed and massaged his temple "No, I'm not using Dilaudid" he said harshly.

"That was not what I was gonna say-"

"Why are you here?" For the first time since she came in, he looked her in the eye. She freezes, she did not think this through.

"Spence, I know it has been hard for you, just let me help you- let us help you," she said with a hint of urgency in her voice.

Spencer clicked his tongue "I don't need help, get out" he calmly said but the way he said it begged to differ.

"I said get out!" He snapped making JJ flinch, she had never seen Spencer act like this but instead of backing out, she fought back.

"I know this is hard for you Spencer but didn't you stop and think that the whole team not only felt guilty because they couldn't save her but they lost her too? She was like family to them." She was crying now. Spencer was about to retort that they didn't know her like he did but she stopped him.

"I know she was your fiancé, Reid, but she was my sister, and losing her meant losing half of me so don't act like you're the only one grieving because we all are, let us help you and we can fix this, it might take a long- long time but let us do it together" she pleaded and fresh tears started to flow from Spencer's eyes.

It was quiet for a while nothing but broken sobs from both of them.

"I- I can't remember her voice" Spencer's voice trembled, his hands shaking making JJ engulf him in a hug. He held her tightly, his tears staining her clothes "I can't remember her voice" he repeated again like a broken record.

"shh, it's okay" JJ coed.

"I couldn't save her, I promised her I would protect her, s-she trusted me to protect her" he stutters, his breathing becoming labored "I don't know what to do, I love her too much to let her go"

"I know" JJ's voice broke. She remembered the night vividly, the night she lost you, she remembered how nothing could calm Spencer down, and she remembered how he cradled your blooded form from the comfort of your own bed, his sobbed mix with his overwhelming fast breathing, it tore her to shreds.

When you were at the hospital, she remembered the whole team was there, she remembered how Spencer couldn't sit still and how he had been crying for hours but when the doctor dropped the dreaded news, she could feel Spencer's heart drop, how his eyes became void of any emotions in just a second.

He dropped to the floor with his hand gripping his shirt near his heart where your head always rests when you're slow dancing, just remembering that made him let out a gut-wrenching cry, his shoulder shaking as he kept repeating the word 'no' over and over again.

When he felt like he couldn't breathe Morgan coaxed him to breathe with him but nothing could work. Losing someone special is like losing your purpose to function and having you gone was something he didn't realize he'd had to face.

--

"I have- uhm, I have a video of her," JJ said, pulling out a disc from her bag. Spencer had now calmed down, and seeing the disc from JJ's hand brought him an unfamiliar surge of emotions.

"She loved recording herself talking and singing, and she mentioned you here more than I can count" she chuckled holding back herself from crying.

She handed Spencer the disc with a tight-lipped smile "I'm gonna give you some privacy" she said taping his shoulder as she made her way out of his apartment.

Spencer didn't say anything nor did he move from his spot on the couch. The disc on his hand felt heavy as he stared at it.

He's scared, he's scared that maybe if he plays this video he won't ever move on and fall into a cycle where he can't stop watching the video for fear of forgetting your face and your voice.

He didn't even realize he had played the disc until he saw you and heard your voice in the video and when he heard it, it brought a new batch of tears pouring out from his eyes.

"Oh hi! Shit, how does this thing work?" You mumbled as you adjusted the camera. "JJ? Is this thing broken or am I just tweaking?" You called out, Spencer saw the camera shift to JJ her face contoured with annoyance.

"you're holding it wrong-" The video ended and for a few seconds it came back again but this time he was met with your beaming smile. Spencer choked on his tears, his heart clenching seeing your infectious smile.

"I met a guy" you giggled making Spencer smile despite the tears flowing down his cheeks "I'm gonna marry him someday, I just know it. He's my sister's colleague, he's smart and extremely handsome, and he likes reading as well, can you believe that?" You exhaled a disbelief sigh.

Hearing that brought a wave of nausea in his system, you never got to marry him.

The video then showed JJ looking at the camera with Emily on her side as JJ tells Emily to be quiet, and then the camera shifts to you and Spencer.

He remembers this, this was 2 years ago on New Year's Day, the both of you were at Rossi's mansion but decided to come out to have the time for both of yourselves.

You were singing but it was muffled because the camera was too far away "Move closer!" He heard Emily whisper "I can't, they'll see us" JJ rebutted but Emily grabbed the camera and the sound of her running with the camera violently shaking from her grasp made him chuckle.

He heard you clearly now, he had never been so thankful for Emily. You were humming and in between the humming, you told him that you love him and Spencer had to pause the video because he was having a hard time breathing again. He didn't finish the video and he fell asleep crying.

Spencer thinks he can't ever forget you, even if he settles down with someone else (which he doubts) he knows he can't ever forget you because loving you was different, different in a way where you'll yearn for it your entire life.

And when he played the tape again, the fleeting moment in which he genuinely smiles is then replaced by him crying again whenever you mention how much you really loved him.

Nothing feels light in grieving and when time passes it gets heavier it may be subtle but it's there. His future with you was forever gone in the wind, merely a whisper in his dreams and his heart ached for your warmth to be back again.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

hello! can you please write oneshot (or headcanons) of yandere!sonic with a reader who tries to escape/hide?? it can be platonic or romantic, you choose :)

A/N: OF DCWJSUHSNW YESS I'LL WRITE A LITTLE BIT OF ONE SHOT AND A LIL BIT OF HEADCANONS, I'm still kinda new to writing fanfics so I'm like super duper sorry if this is bad 😔😔

Tw: kidnapping (taken place before narrative), forced affection, yandere (if any more tws, let me know!!

Yandere!sonic x reader

Romantic...

Did you seriously think you could get away from him?

Small reminder here bud, he's THE fastest.

It's really not hard for him to catch you.

Sonic POV:

There was the sound of keys jingling as the door unlocked and sonic stepped inside, bag in hand, smiling widely as he called out. "Hey babe, I got us some chili dogs!"

...

No answer?

Weird...

But no matter!

He set the bag down on the table as he set out to look for you, calling your name as he looked through the house.

...

Wait did he lock the do- click, creak, kachunk

Of course...

Reader POV:

You breathed in and out quickly running as fast as you could.

Shit shit shit, damn it! Why can't you run faster.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you kept running. Of course you knew sonic was fast, you weren't stupid, so you tried turning corners, tried running to anywhere where you could be concealed.

...

You seemed to be running for some time now no?

It was weird, sonic was way faster than you he surely should have been here by now... But he wasn't. As anxiety set in you ran faster and faster, trying to get as far as you could, to anyone you could.

...

At this point it felt like your legs were about to give out, you shut your eyes trying to think of anything other than the sheer exhaustion you held.

Maybe you could just sit down for a sec-

Suddenly you feel something slam against you, knocking the air out of your lungs. You heaved to get air as arms wrapped around you. Looking up you felt your heart drop as you saw Sonic's eyes stare blankly at yours, still keeping a smile on his face.

"Whatcha doing there?"

"..."

"You do remember I'm the fastest right? I thought you'd remember?"

"..."

"Anyways! Sorry it took so long, had to get caught up in that show we were watching together, you don't mind that I finished it without you right?"

"..."

"Jeez why so quiet? It's like I'm talking to myself at this point! C'mon, let's get home, I could really go for some more chili dogs right now."

He carries you in his arms might just be dragging you if you were still struggling, but you're too tired to do anything at this point. Anyways, when you get home, he places you on the couch, and makes sure to lock the door.

...

...

...

After you finished eating he sat you down.

"Look, I get it, running? Love it! But I'd just prefer you tone it down, when things change we can go out together and run as much as you want, but just.. Not now, y'know? So just don't do that again. Okay?"

He sounds like he's asking but it really isn't a choice for you

He takes most, of not all things as a joke/game, and you running away or hiding isn't an exception

He would in fact purposefully take slower or just waist time before starting to run at all, he's cocky. He's sure that he could reach you quickly, so he doesn't worry about you actually getting anywhere. All he needs to do is just wait until your too tired too even move and then swoop in, it makes it way easier for him to bring you back.

I kinda focused more on running away but I didn't do too much on hiding so I'm gonna do a few head canons in this same post

⬇

⬇

⬇

Who doesn't LOVE hide and seek, plus, you finally playing a game with him? Total win in his book.

Will toy with you, not in a like "oh I'm the best and I use people as my playthings" way but a "lol, imagine trying to hide lmfao 😂😂" way if that makes sense, just feels like him idk

"Where are youuuu?"

While looking for where you could be hiding, he's acting as if he's lost some mundane item.

"Where did I put it.. Hmmmmmm"

Will pull out the scratching his head while looking confused asf combo (Looney toone moment)

If you actually think he can't find you, you're deluding yourself

As soon as you breathe a sigh of relief, any door, or cabinet, to said hiding spot will be flung open, air rushing past. "Found you! :D"

Again, all of this is just a game to him, but he's not stupid. He sees the terror in your eyes, pretending not to notice it as he yaps about how said 'hiding spot' was a good one and how it was fun.

Will get clingy afterwards, regardless if you hid or ran, cuddles, doesn't matter if you don't want them, you're getting them!

Even if you tried running away he wouldn't chain you up, or tie you down, I think he would like the chase tbh, even if realistically he would reach you in a matter of seconds, regardless of how far you were.

A/n: I hope you liked these!!

I wrote these late on a school night, I might be cooked, yall its 12:54 am 😭😭

[cripplecharacters]

I'm writing a character with intellectual disability and I can't find much about how the different skill areas affected will be affected based on the level of ID. He has mild ID, IQ measured to be between 60-69, but I was wondering if I made his symptoms too severe and if what he has would actually be moderate. Are these realistic for someone with mild ID, or would these indicate more severe ID?

He started copying sounds at around the same age most babies do, maybe a month or so late, but didn't really understand what they meant until he was around four, when he made the connection that certain sounds had certain meanings. He picked up language decently after that, a bit slower than most but he did eventually hit language milestones, just a few years late

He's not good at problem solving. If he's seen a similar problem get solved he can usually replicate the solution, but if he's never seen this problem or the solution to it he'll struggle to come up with a solution that works. If the solution he's seen work in the past isn't possible, that's also something that'll throw him through a loop. Like if he drops and breaks a plate and he knows the solution to this situation in the past, get his dad and then go find the broom and dustpan so his dad can clean it up, isn't possible because his dad isn't home, it'll take him a little bit before he can adapt that solution to "I need to get the broom and dustpan to clean this up." He can get there, it just takes him a minute.

He was very late to reading and basic math, picking up reading at writing at around seven, addition and subtraction a little bit after, and multiplication, division, and fractions at around ten. Once he gets it he can start growing the skill, it just took him a while to get it.

Planning ahead is also something he struggles to do well. He can come up with unrealistic plans easily, but coming up with an actual plan on how to spend a day out is hard for him and when he does have that plan, any deviance from the plan really stresses him out because now he needs a whole new plan.

He's good at abstract thinking, but there are some things he can't understand. He gets that ableism is a thing, that people see him and think less of him for being disabled (outside of the ID, he is visibly disabled,) but he can't for the life of him figure out why people are taking their observations and using them to be cruel.

His ability to learn from experience is good, it's one of the easiest ways for him to learn things and it's the way his parents taught him some things. He can also learn from the experiences of others- if his dad cuts his hand on a knife while cooking and is thus injured, he can understand from that that knives can hurt and that if they hurt his dad, they'll hurt him, so he shouldn't mess with them without being very careful.

He is also very bad at picking up on body language and facial expressions.

Because he was homeschooled (the elementary and middle school didn't have a good special education system,) a lot of this was kind of brushed off as "Oh, it's because he was homeschooled" when he did start going to school as a teenager. His teachers knew, of course, but the people he befriended didn't really notice, brushing off the things they noticed him struggling with as being products of him being homeschooled. So he's not extremely obviously intellectually disabled to the untrained eye, but teachers and people who know other people with ID can usually pick up on it.

I feel like all of this might be a bit too severe for mild ID, but I also worry that if I change it so he has moderate ID I'll be underplaying what moderate ID is. Sorry for the long ask.

Hi!

A lot of the traits remind me less of myself (mild end of mild) and more of some of my ex classmates (moderate). Some of the points are more universal (understanding of body language can be really hard or really easy depending on the cause of the ID, e.g. intellectually disabled people with autism will usually have a hard time regardless of ID level) but most to me read as "more disabled than me" so either he's on the severe end of mild, or just moderate. The only one that reads pretty strictly as mild is the last one, if someone only has ID with no comorbidity then often others can't tell for a while or brush it off as something else (I'm autistic and people sometimes guess autism, sometimes ID, sometimes things I don't have). I feel like if he experiences all the other points, other people would probably be able to notice rather quickly, if not as "obviously ID" then they would notice that he's developmentally disabled in some way (though, from interacting with moderately ID people in SPED, pretty much everyone could tell, especially abled people).

Other than his classmates not being able to tell, this sounds like a pretty good representation of someone with moderate intellectual disability. I wouldn't hang on what exact number or exact severity he was diagnosed with, just saying "intellectually disabled" is good. ID is a spectrum and it doesn't have hard edges (IQ measurement is deeply flawed), sometimes it can be hard to tell where someone exactly lies on it. There's not that much difference between me, very close to the "normal range", and someone else, very close to the "ID range". I just wouldn't say that your character has mild since it does sound like it's probably in the moderate range rather than in the mild or Ambiguous one, but focusing on the exact label isn't that important in my opinion.

If you want him to have mild ID because he has a condition that causes ID that is specifically mild and not more severe, then I think it would be easier to change the condition than the character. Many of these traits seem thought-out and impact the character a lot, so changing them could be almost like rewriting the entire character.

I hope this helps,

mod Sasza

[blueicequeen19]

Right Side Of Wrong

Warnings: JJ & John B’s off limits sister 👀

I love this trope. I’ll write it 100 times 🔥

Part Two

I propped myself up on some pillows and leaned back against my headboard, tangy scented smoke filling the air as I exhaled from my weed pen. I was freshly showered wearing only a pair of boxers with my legs sprawled out, my comforter kicked to the foot of my bed as I fought to erase the inappropriate thoughts I was having about my best friends little sister.

Y/N Routledge had been in my life as long as John B had. The three of us did everything together until we didn’t. She was my annoying little sister too, until she wasn’t. I constantly had to hear about John B being the over protective big brother and running everyone off that looked at her. Or asked about her. Or so much as walked in her direction.

For awhile, I was helping run off all the boys. Now part of me was glad that no one had touched her yet. She had the face of an Angel and the body of the devil. And she slowly began to realize that. She dressed for attention now and she was sure getting a lot from it. It was hard not to notice with her long, tan legs and perky tits. Her ass bounced with every step she took and my palm itched to smack the smooth flesh.

I couldn’t sleep without her invading my every fantasy. I wanted to know what she felt like.. on the inside and the outside. I wanted to taste her skin and her pussy. I wanted to know what those tits looked like when she bounced on my cock. I wanted to know what she sounded like when she came and when she gagged on me. I wanted to know if she was a squirter or a crier. If she’d like her hair pulled or choked. She was a brat, she probably liked both.

“JJ?” I blink back to reality, seeing Y/N standing at the foot of my bed in the same tiny bikini she wore in the hot tub tonight. I thought the vein in John B’s forehead was going to burst when he saw her. I suddenly realized I was sporting a hard on and her eyes were locked on it, making me harder. I yanked the comforter up over my waist to conceal myself but the damage was done. She wasn’t hiding her curiosity.

“W-what are you doing in here, Y/N?” I asked, trying to slow my racing heart. All the blood in my body seemed to be racing to my dick and I couldn’t stop it. She looked like a fucking wet dream.

“I just wanted to check on you. See if you needed anything.” She said with fake innocence, batting her lashes at me as she rounded the bed and sat on the edge next to me. My hands fisted the comforter as she checked me out, not even bothering to hide her interest. Her eyes lingered on the shark tooth necklace, probably remembering the night she made it for me.

“I’m fine. Thanks.” I tried to keep my voice even but my dick was so hard it hurt. I was going to have to rub one out at least a four times tonight.

“You sure about that? Nothing bothering you?” Her eyes moved down to my waist where I was clutching the comforter. Why was she doing this? The ultimate forbidden fruit offering herself up on a silver platter.

“Nope.” I swallowed hard.

“Okay.” Her brows furrowed, obviously not buying it. I watched as she reached behind her back and untied her top, letting it fall freely and exposing her perfect tits to me. I looked away, heat coursing through my body.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” I bit out. She took my hand, placing it over one of her tits and making me squeeze.

“Seizing the opportunity.” Her voice is soft and seductive, reminding me that I am not a strong man. Her hand falls from mine as I start to squeeze and pinch her nipple, rolling it between two fingers. I wanted to pinch her clit next. How wet would she be right now for me?

“We can’t do this.” I pull my hand away and she gives a small pout.

“Why not?” She tries to pull the comforter back but I don’t let her. I fix her with a knowing look, trying to keep my resolve from slipping.

“You know why. You’re like my sister.” I spit the words like they leave a bad taste in my mouth but she only chuckles, getting to her feet then throwing her leg over me to straddle me. I throw my hands up, sinking against the headboard as far as I can.

“You don’t look at me like a sister.” She leans in and whispers in my ear, her hands against my bare chest.

“I’m getting all this male attention when I’ve only ever wanted yours, JJ.” I fight to catch my breath but I can’t. My dick was jabbed into her thigh and I could feel the heat from her pussy.

“Stop.” I pant, wishing I had the strength to push her away.

“But you’re so hard, JJ. I can feel you.” His sultry voice in my ear as my eyes almost rolling back in my head. I can’t move my hands from their spot fisting the comforter or I’m liable to shove her on her back and eat that forbidden pussy like it’s my last meal.

“John B.” I bite out, shuddering when her lips ghost over my cheek and down my neck.

“This isn’t about him. This is about me and you and what’s coming. What’s been coming.” She kisses my neck just once and my restraint withers away by half. I swallow the lump in my throat just as her tongue swipes out and licks where she just kissed.

“He would hate me.” I rasp, feeling her tongue and teeth along my sweet spot. I had chills up and down my arms. She was pushing every single one of my buttons with her arms draped over my shoulders and her tits pressed against my chest. Her nipples were so hard against my skin, begging for my teeth.

“He would understand.” Then she bites me. Hard. It’s claiming and something inside me snaps. My arms circle her waist and I slam her down on her back on the bed, making her gasp in surprise. An animalistic sound leaves my throat as I gaze at her willing body. I couldn’t decide where I wanted to start but my cock knew.

I dive down and suck one of her pert nipples into my mouth, slapping my hand over her lips in time to muffle her cries. Her hands find my hair as I suck and bite her needy little buds one at a time until she’s withering and whimpering beneath me.

My hand slid between us and I groaned, feeling the heat and juices slipping from her already. My thumb barely swiped over her clit when there’s a pounding on my door, snapping me from my trance. I jump back, getting as far from her as I can when John B’s voice comes through the door.

“Yo, you hungry? We’re ordering pizza.” My heart was racing, I could barely register what he said as I palmed my chest. Y/N kicked me gently to get my attention.

“Yea! Pizza’s fine!” I call back.

“Okay! Have you seen Y/N? She wasn’t in her room.” John B asks and I move further away from her and her tempting tits. Her eyes narrow at me as she tries to determine what I’m going to say. God, if he hadn’t knocked on the door I would’ve fucked her. Fucked her with a house full of Pogues like she wasn’t off limits to everyone on this island.

“No, last time I seen her she was outside!” I call back, yanking on a pair of sweats and grabbing a pillow to conceal my hard on. Y/N spreads her legs and slides her delicate hand down her body, slowly running the tip of her finger over her clit until she panting softly. Oh god.

My dick jerks with the need to be buried inside something hot and wet.

“Okay, I’ll check outside.” John B’s voice makes me jump again, my nerves fucking shot.

“Okay! I’ll come help!” I hear his disappearing footsteps and I move to run after him when she slips her bikini bottoms to the side, revealing a glistening bare cunt.

All the air leaves my lungs and I step back until my back meets the wall, my jaw hanging open and my knees damn near giving out. She whimpers softly, circling her clit and gathering her wetness on her fingers before plunging a finger inside herself.

“Cum with me, JJ.” She moans under her breath, adding a second finger to her clenching hole.

“Nope. Nope. I can’t do this.” I feel like I’m having a heart attack as I make a mad dash for my bathroom, shutting myself inside just as I hear her rapidly approaching footsteps. I lock the door and plant my back against, hearing her curse on the other side.

“I won’t stop, JJ. I won’t.” I groan, hearing the determination in her voice before she walks away.

I quickly shove my sweats and boxers down, fisting my cock hard as the picture of her fingering herself plays on loop in my head. I could hear how wet she was. Her pussy should’ve been sucking on my cock, not her fingers.

I barely stroke myself three times and I cum harder than I have in a very long time, unable to catch my breath as I realize just how royally fucked I am.