#Cushion Complexion

[mintygal411]

The Best All-Weather Base Makeup: Tinted Moisturizer, BB Cream, Cushion Compact

Fall time! My favorite season (also my birthday season!). The change of weather brings cooler temperatures and more expressive makeup. It is easy to skip makeup during these warm months and just opt for sunscreen, but the fall time is great for makeup knowing it won’t melt off of your face. These 3 complexion products keep my skin looking great all year round, all while protecting my skin from…

[eraserbread]

older married!satosugu never really tried to shove their relationship down your throat, but they didn’t try to hide it either.

a kiss here and there is the norm they placed upon you. sometimes, when gojo’s hand is around suguru’s thigh, it erupts your stomach in butterflies. you love how they love each other, but more so how they love you.

and, you weren't crazy... satoru said to be at their house by 8 -- it's well past that, now. and you were alone, standing in their entryway with his text conversation lighting your face in the darkness.

you reach to flick the lights on, tossing your shoes off and making yourself at home in the emptiness. their car was in the driveway, satoru’s location says he’s here. and, once you check, you see suguru’s here, too.

“hello? here i am…!”

you walk deeper into the house, trailing the tips of your fingers across the teal painted walls you move past.

“suguru? satoru?” you glance into the kitchen and see nothing. you can’t help but sigh. you really were excited to see them this time.

but, if they aren’t on the first floor. they had to be upstairs. this silence was almost uncanny.

“sugu?” just for good measure, you try again.

“sat-

your complexion turns two shades redder when you hear it. it.

satoru and suguru. breathless. moaning. curses of love and angst giving the atmosphere a much heavier feel. you can’t believe it’s finally happening. three months together and you haven’t seen them do more than kiss each other goodbye.

you were… excited. as taboo as that felt to admit.

so, you don’t bother them yet. you walk to their slightly cracked bedroom door, cracking it just a bit more to see if they’d notice. nothing.

of course they wouldn’t fucking notice — satoru has suguru splayed out under him, chest pressed to the mattress. with every single inch of his rubbered cock buried inside of his husband.

“when you look at me like that…” gojo whispers so tenderly, tucking hair away from the side of suguru’s face. “reminds me why i married you.”

“is this… all you t-think about?” suguru responds, pretty eyes rolling back into his skull. you can’t help but take him in — the sweat on his back, the strain of his legs and his hair everywhere. with his familiar body flushed red, he’s fisting the pillow, moaning strings of satoru’s first name into the cushion.

satoru’s strong hand cups under suguru’s right knee, keeping it at a right angle. it’s how they accommodate enough room for satoru to fit snugly against him. they’re both just so tall, with their combined length, they’d be hanging off the bed.

“about how beautiful you are? yeah.” satoru takes a fistful of satoru’s hair, yanking his neck bared and completely ready for his lips and teeth. they’re both so tender, tangled between the sheets. it’s hard to interrupt.

but, fuck it. they called you here, so they had to be in on this, too.

“thanks for the show.” you pose in the doorway, pointer finger hanging from your mouth. it’s cocky as hell, and you don’t think you’ll hear the end of it. “i mean, bravo.”

they don’t jump in horror like you expected them to. satoru just peeks over his shoulder, through his sexed hair and laughs.

“hi, honey bunny.”

the second geto heard your voice, he was pushing satoru away, but he wouldn’t budge. it’s hard enough just for him to sit up and turn around to greet you. but, of course when he does, it’s with an innocent smile on his flushed face.

god, help you.

“we definitely remember you saying you were stopping by…” suguru tries to fix his hair, but he’d need a shower and lots of time. satoru loved pulling hair. “he jumped my bones, baby. i’m so sorry.” he shakes his head, but you know he wants to laugh. can see it in his eyes when he looks at you.

“-didn’t jump your bones…” gojo mumbles callously, sliding out of bed and slipping his abandoned work pants back on. the loose belt still hangs from the loops, zipper open giving you just the perfect peek at his thin patch of ivory white hair — the dribble of sweat peeking through the waves of his muscles. you stare dumbly.

you’re whipped.

“depends on what look you gave him…”

satoru’s approaching you like a lion to its prey. pushing you back into the door, still you continue. “if it’s the one i think it is, i’m on gojo’s side.”

suguru drags his feet to you, smirking softly as he drinks in your words. satoru’s nodding you through it like you’re speaking to him — and you are, in a sort. until, you can’t speak anything else because he’s kissing you. he tastes like suguru — every piece of him. it’s so fucking hot, you close your eyes.

“mm, that’s okay.” geto mumbles out a little laugh, closing his hand across your jaw and steals you away from his husbands kisses.

then, the nights all about you. tangled between the two of them is always enough.

part 1, part 2

[mygnolia]

HINCE KISSES | p. sunghoon

୨୧ -› his lips were red like cherries in the spring, and you had to have a taste.

pair -› idol/model!sunghoon x fem!reader | trope -› established relationship | wc -› 500 | warning -› suggestive (kisses) | library

sunghoon’s lips look ten times more delectable than they ever have—you internally thank the photoshoot with HINCE JAPAN for his fresh complexion and the bag of products in his hand.

“someone’s all dolled up,” you compliment, looking at his loose button up and glowing skin.

sunghoon rolls his eyes as you two walk to his car. “it’s just the company, but i saw some of the clips, and they made me look pretty good.” his gloating earns a jealous scowl from you. just how many people got to see him so perfect like how he looks right now?

unfair.

the drive is home is filled less teasing than before. the air is warm with comfort and laced with care as he takes every red light as an opportunity to glance over at you and rest his hand on your thigh, giving a reassuring squeeze as you tell him about your day before you got dropped off to wait for him.

you two go from talking about the little things to getting food, laughing as sunghoon gets sauce on his lip and waits impatiently for you to wipe it off. the night ends when you two get ready for bed, slipping into pajamas back at his dorm and having the privacy to yourself. now, he finally gets the chance to open the complimentary bag of gifts and you marvel over the company’s kindness together.

you open the cushion foundation, trying it out on your palm before moving onto the set of lip tints that he modeled before joining sunghoon on the bed, sitting on his lap as you face him with the tint in hand. “let me put some on?”

sunghoon looks away bashfully, smiling before giving in and letting you slowly layer on the product onto his lips.

your boyfriend watches you carefully, his gaze suggesting that your proximity should lead to more. the hand rests on his shoulder moves to his neck and you lean in for a slow kiss.

“now you’ve tried some, too.” he comments cheekily.

you huff before leaning over to check the mirror, applying some more of the product to see if it really looks good or not.

“i think it looks better on you than me,” you pout. your boyfriend smiles, his eyes crinkling with how much he adores you and your antics.

“don’t say that, baby,” he laughs, tucking your hair back, “give me another kiss?”

you shake your head, about to get off of him in faux anger. sunghoon’s hands immediately travel to your waist as he stops you from leaving, and his gaze begs you to forgive him for the crime of looking too good.

“does this mean i get a kiss from you?” sunghoon reminds you. you pretend to be in thought before he grabs your chin gently to capture your lips in yet another searing kiss.

sunghoon kisses you like he was born to keep his hands on your waist and sighs when it deepens. you boyfriend pulls you closer, tilting his head slightly and swipes at your bottom lip. your hands move to his chest, and he reads your body language, giving you one more peck before you pull away, giggling at the suddenness of everything.

“come on, hoon. let’s sleep.” he reluctantly lets go of you as you place the products on the table, laying down next to him after turning off the lamp.

“i’ve missed you, baby,” he says, pulling you close and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i can tell,” you laugh, seeing the remnants of his tint in the moonlight. “i missed you too, my little beauty ambassador.”

reblogs are appreciated! feedback also appreciated!

going feral over sunghoon day 199339292

[scribs-dibs]

cherry wine

(separate) belle & wise, gn reader, kinda ooc... because im still early game i think..., late-night proofreading. godspeed if ur reading this 🫶🏾

wc; ~1.7k total

phaethon can navigate hollows with ease. but a crush?

Wise does not hear any of the words that play loudly on the screen in front of him. He doesn’t care to. Though this is one of his favorites– his brain is occupied by you just sitting here, beside him.

The documentary buzzes on about its topic, but Wise can’t make out a word over the sound of his rapidly beating heart. He’s stiff– sat up straight as a board even if the soft cushions of the couch beckon him to do otherwise. He can’t think. Usually he is the one who can iron out the folds of a situation, a cool collected mind built to play in contrast to his sister. But now his thoughts are a mess- contorted underneath the blunt of his embarrassment. If Belle were here now, she’d laugh right in his face.

It’s her fault he’s in this mess to begin with.

(“You suck at hiding it, you know,” Belle is at his side in the doorway, waving you goodbye for the day. Her words make him jolt.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Your crush, obviously.”

Wise is almost sure that for a moment, his heart stops beating. He barely manages to suppress the gasp that threatens to spill out of his throat.

Instead he brushes it off, turns on his heel pointedly and shakes his head from a sudden bout of fake-exhaustion.

“Okay. I’m calling it a night—”

“You’re probably not the only one to like them, Wise.”

He stops in his tracks.

Because she's right. In the months the two have come to know you, you've been the kind, helpful neighbor who has helped them through thick and thin. You are known on Sixth Street, a regular name heard from store to store— he'd be foolish to think that he's the only one that has warmth bloom in his chest at the sight of you. Damn.

“Buuut,” Belle nudges him playfully on the shoulder, her signature smile making her eyes crinkle at the edges, “You could be the first to make a move.”

“Belle–”

“I’ll even help! Come on Wise!”)

And now he’s here, with his heart fit to burst out of his chest.

“So…uh,”

Your attention is on him now, the smoothness of his voice pulling you from the visuals of the movie. Little does he know, Wise is a pleasant sight for the eyes. He has a soft, lopsided smile, and his complexion is tinted with warmth because of his room’s dim lighting. (It’s strange, though, that the more you look the more intense it seems to get.) His eyes are usually crystal clear and focused, but now they are glossed over with something that looks like unease.

The longer you stare, the harder his heart beats against his ribcage. It’s not fair, truly. You’ve only sat next to him and looked in his direction, yet his face feels like it burns and his tongue is too heavy to form proper words. Movies are his thing. Belle had suggested this because it should be easy. But he can’t think straight when butterflies are soaring in his stomach.

At the very least, he wants to see if you’re even enjoying the documentary, so he wills his mouth to do something other than open and immediately snap shut.

“Do you…like me?”

The movie. He meant the movie. The sentence was supposed to be: Do you like the movie.

There is something pitiful, Wise thinks, in how he scrambles to make up for his botched words. The calm, steady tones of his voice are replaced by chopped up mix-mashes of sentences, trying desperately to weave into something coherent.

To no avail of course.

His mouth can’t seem to stop now that it’s started, fragment after fragment tumbling freely out of his mouth– like it has a mind of its own. He’s flushed up to the ears, the pink flush to his skin now all- encompassing. His mouth just keeps moving– until you manage to stop it with your own.

You can feel his breath hitch in his throat. Wise doesn’t think he deserves a reward this good after fumbling so badly, but when your lips brush against his he can’t find it in himself to be truly upset. You are pulling at the edges of his jacket, hands digging hard into the material to ensure he doesn’t try to pull away. You can’t stand to see him apologize for crossing some sort of nonexistent line– your feelings are returned.

“Does that answer your question?”

Wise has to take a moment to breathe. The kiss was a short little thing, one that was chaste in nature– you just wanted him to be sure of your own feelings. The blue-green of his eyes are focused on you– truly focused, this time, not a fleeting glance that is quickly cast away.

“Wise?”

Your voice snaps him out of the daze he was in.

“Yeah. Yeah, but,”

It’s his turn to pull you in this time– subtly soft hands cupping your cheeks.

“Would you mind ‘answering’ me again?”

Belle is someone you’ve always looked up to.

She’s sweet and smart, and throughout all your errands throughout Sixth Street she’s always available to lend a hand. You couldn’t find a paper long enough to list all the reasons you’re grateful for her presence.

That being said, when you’re face to face with her, you can’t quite seem to get yourself together.

“C’mon, you’re not going easy on me, are you?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Belle pouting, brows furrowed and bottom lip jutted out. It’s adorable, and you’re so taken that you fully run into her snake on the arcade machine.

It was her idea to go out once the day had come to a close. The sun still hangs lazily in the sky, casting everything in gold. The arcade is a place where you can relax after being pulled this way and that by different people around town. This time, Belle joins you, offhandedly mentioning how she also needs to destress from such a long day at work.

You’re a bit distracted, though, when the neon lights reflect in her eyes and make her smile that much more radiant.

“You’re not answering…” Belle gasps, complete with a theatrical hand to her chest, “You are, aren’t you!”

“No, of course not! I just,” It dawns on you that the arcade is nearly empty, and suddenly this one-on-one game of snake seems far more intimate than it actually is. It’s just you and her. You can’t help but feel a bit giddy on the inside– the excitement must deal a blow to your accuracy.

“I’m just off my game, that’s all.”

Belle hums, contemplative. You can’t help but feel worried when the gears of her brain start turning.

“In that case…That just means we need to up the stakes!”

“Up the stakes?”

She nods, and her smile grows more devious by the second.

“Mhm! Let’s say…” Belle taps her chin, and though she is putting on a show of trying to think of something, you have a sneaking suspicion that she has already decided what it is she’s after, “The loser has to give something to the winner?”

You know, distantly, that this has to play into Belle’s hands somehow. But she’s never done you any harm, and her eagerness is so palpable that you can’t help but concede.

“Alright, alright. Fine.”

There is nothing but the buzz and click of the machine for a while, and Belle was right– the new motivation lights a fire underneath you, and suddenly your nerves are replaced by a burning desire to win. You don’t know what you’ll ask for if you do– by the time you two are finished here, with the score finally settled, you’re sure most of Sixth Street’s shops will be closed. But you want to win.

You swerve at the last minute to avoid Belle’s snake, grabbing a diamond on the tile in front by the skin of your teeth. But Belle has always been sneaky, able to pull a last-minute change in a situation with ease. She cuts a sharp turn, and the rest of her snake is able to encircle yours. You watch with a sickly sense of dread as your snake breaks into itty-bitty pieces.

You heave a sigh– at least it was a good game. But you’re still soured at the loss of a win that was so close.

“Aww, what’s wrong?” Belle is grinning, eyes forming little crescents, “Don’t tell me you’re a sore loser…”

You roll your eyes, but you’re far too endeared to be properly annoyed.

“’Course not. You won,”

The arcade’s lights have started to dim by now, the peachy-colored sky dipped into inky darkness as you step out.

“Even if you were sneaky about it.”

“Was not!”

You glare out of the corner of your eye, and again you are met with a playful pout.

“What is it you want, anyway?” You busy yourself with walking a few steps ahead, avoiding her moonlit face as much as possible. How can you put up a fight when she looks at you like that?

“Well,” Belle gazes upon the shops along Sixth Street, their windows dark and their doors closed, “Everything is closed for the night, looks like. I’ll have to get a bit creative, huh?”

Belle’s footsteps grow louder, and before you know it she’s made her way in front of you, eyes full of starlight.

“How about…”

She takes slow, calculated steps toward you, and your heart leaps in your throat.

“A kiss?”

Belle is but a few inches away from you, her head tilted and her gaze soft. Her voice is quiet and unusually meek as she says it, like her confidence had reached its limit.

“…O-of course, if you don’t want to–”

You pull her in before you can second-guess yourself. Her lips are plush, and though she is initially surprised by your sudden movement, it takes barely a second for you to feel them smile against your own. Her arms link around you like it’s the easiest thing she’s ever done, and the silver-tinted street is drowned out like it never mattered.

When you part, her face is flushed a pretty shade of pink. You aren’t better off– you’re so happy that you now stand on wobbly legs.

“Happy now?”

“Hm, not quite. I think you should give me another.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

ty for reading! rbs w/comments are appreciated!

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

“Well, you’re extra cuddly today.”

Steve chuckles and cradles his lover’s face in his hands, leaning in to kiss the bridge of his nose. Below him, Billy simply hums. Smooths his hands over Steve’s thighs and drags him closer in his lap.

Like he didn’t just manhandle the brunet on top of him mere moments ago with a scowl on his face.

“Mhm,” Billy sighs softly.

Closes his eyes as his face is peppered with more kisses.

“What’s up, hm?” Steve wonders. Smooths his thumbs delicately from side to side over Billy’s cheekbones, tracing over the shape of his Cupid’s bow with his eyes. “Feeling a little touch-starved? Do I not pay enough attention to you?”

Billy pulls him closer.

“Miss you.”

“Miss me? You see me every day.”

When Billy grumbles wordlessly, brows drawing together, Steve snickers. Dips in to press a long, long kiss to the blond’s lips.

Billy instantly melts under him, going slack and earning a muffled giggle from Steve’s lips.

After a few moments, Steve leans back. Chuckles again when Billy whines at the loss and gently pushes his hair out of his face so he can better admire it.

“I miss you too, sweet boy.”

“Yeah?”

Steve grins.

“How could I not when you’re being a big baby after not seeing me all day?” He bites his lip when Billy pouts in an attempt to suppress his amusement. “It’s pretty stinkin’ cute. Kinda makes me never wanna leave ever again.”

Billy’s eyes peak open. He grips Steve’s thighs, smoothing his hands up to his hips.

“You should probably stay with me, then.”

“All the time?”

“All the time.”

Steve sucks in a breath when Billy pinches his ass, and the blond smirks. Interlocks his fingers over the small of Steve’s back thereafter.

“I’ll try my best,” Steve muses. “God, you’re pretty. The air must be agreeing with you or something today because I can’t stop looking at you.”

Billy chuckles, low and rumbly, and his eyes linger on Steve’s lips.

“Thanks.”

“You agree with me? That’s new.”

The brunet blows a raspberry with his lips, brows raised comically high as he tucks Billy’s hair behind both ears with his fingers.

Billy simply shrugs.

“You make me feel pretty,” he says. “Plus, I’m in the mood to believe you today.”

“You’re gorgeous every day, I can’t even look at you without getting kinda sweaty and weird.”

Steve bites his lip when Billy laughs.

“Think you’d still be into me if you were blind?”

For a moment, Steve purses his lips.

He’s been asked questions like this before, strange hypotheticals that he used to assume Billy would ask for the ego boost. Or to make Steve laugh.

Now, though, all he really hears is a different version of would you still love me if I wasn’t attractive?

And it plucks a faint little note on one of his heartstrings.

So, he closes his eyes.

He hones in on all of the points of contact, noticing the warmth of Billy’s body seeping in through the layers of clothing between them. Then he focuses on his hands, still cradling his lover’s face.

On Billy’s arms, stretched around him and holding him so close.

Billy hums amusedly when he carefully touches his skin, tracing his fingers over the curve of his cheekbones and the scruff on his jaw.

Kisses the pad of Steve’s thumb when it brushes over his lips.

“Mm, I’m not really getting a good feel…” Steve murmurs.

He feels the slight puff of air when Billy huffs through his nose, and the way his throat bobs when his chin is tilted up.

Steve leans in close and presses their lips together, smiling when he feels their shared weight sink further into the cushions as Billy slouches more heavily into them.

The blond cranes forward whenever Steve begins to pull away, effectively drawing him back in until he finally has to take a breath.

Steve opens his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says, admiring the subtle flush to Billy’s complexion. “You’re too lovable, even when I can’t see you.”

“Lovable,” Billy repeats, no louder than a whisper.

Steve bites his lip and nods, shuffling impossibly closer in his lover’s lap.

“You’re warm, and you smell good,” he says. “You like being kissed, which makes it pretty damn hard to not wanna kiss you, and you’re grabby in my favorite kind of way.”

“Grabby, huh?”

There’s a smirk playing at the corner of Billy’s mouth, and Steve snickers as he rests his arms around his neck, still close.

“Well, yeah, every cuddle session we have starts out like a damn wrestling match.”

“You’re never where I want you,” Billy huffs. “Should I start telling you to move instead?”

Steve ghosts their lips together, chuckling again when Billy cranes forward eagerly just before he pulls out of reach, denying the blond the kiss he so desires.

“I said I like it,” Steve muses.

Billy’s brows furrow and he pulls Steve forward, pressing their abdomens together and locking him in close.

They’re near enough that he could steal a kiss, but he doesn’t.

“Figured,” Billy murmurs, relaxing his hold just enough to smooth his hands up the length of Steve’s back. “You never really put up any resistance. If you were any daintier, I’d probably just carry you everywhere.”

Steve closes his eyes again and nuzzles their foreheads together.

“How could I resist you? I’m practically wrapped around your finger with those watery blues and tiny freckles.” He loops his finger around one of Billy’s curls, twirling it and letting it slide free. “Also, fuck you, I’m not dainty. We’re like the same size.”

Billy chuckles, soft and sultry, and Steve peaks his eyes open just in time to see a smug grin spread across his face.

“No we’re not.”

“Yes, if anything, I’m taller than you.”

“I’m not talkin’ about height, sweetheart, I got you beat by two pants sizes at least.”

Steve snickers and tilts his head to the side.

“Is this you trying to delicately let me know you’re getting chubby? ‘Cause I already know that.”

The blond scoffs and pinches Steve’s side, which earns a little yelp as he squirms in Billy’s lap.

“I’m just saying if one of us is the man and one of us is the chick, I’m obviously the man.”

“Oh, sure, and does the man always like it up the ass or is that just a you thing?” Steve teases. Snorts when Billy’s face flushes the slightest shade of red. “Y’know I was only half kidding about the chubby thing, right? If anything, you’re just… grabbable.”

There’s a beat of silence. Steve chuckles again when Billy begins to pout and leans in to share another kiss.

Billy’s lips are soft. Plush. He parts them easily and Steve slides his tongue briefly over his bottom lip, and Billy keens under him. Sets his hands on his waist and rubs, keeping him locked in close.

When they part momentarily, Billy sighs, looking on with his half-lidded eyes while Steve hums. Almost swoons before leaning back in and earning a small noise from Billy’s lips.

“Would you be mad if I said I loved you?” Steve mumbles against him.

Then, there’s a chuckle.

“What, like, past tense, or…?”

“Yeah.” Steve bites back on his laugh when Billy’s brows furrow. “I did, y’know… back when we used to wear the same pants size.”

Billy scoffs and Steve cackles before he brings his hands forward to cup his lover’s cheeks in his palms again.

Smooths his thumbs over his skin and watches the offense bleed from his expression.

“That’s unfortunate, I was kinda thinkin’ maybe we were starting to get a little serious.”

“You’re pretty but you’re not very bright, huh?”

Billy’s smile comes back full-force.

“Thanks.”

“Oh, now, that’s something I never wanna hear you agree to,” Steve tuts. “I do love you, though. Right now. Very much.”

Billy shifts beneath him, settling deeper into the sofa cushions, and lets his hands move down to Steve’s thighs again.

“Just right now?”

Steve blows a raspberry and shakes his head.

“Yesterday, too. And tomorrow. And every day after that.”

“What if you decide you hate me in ten years? You never know what’s gonna happen.”

“I’ll love you forever, baby, I promise,” Steve coos. Leans back in to seal Billy into another kiss. “Now say it back.”

Billy hums against his mouth, going slack when Steve squeezes his thighs together at either side of him.

“I love you too,” Billy mumbles between kisses.

Steve keeps one hand on his cheek while he smooths the other down to his chest, pressing his fingers under the collar of his shirt and over his skin. Billy huffs a fussy sound and shifts, bumping up into Steve briefly while they’re apart, and then they’re melting together again.

A large hand palms at Steve’s ass. Then, he feels a sudden pressure underneath him that says that maybe Billy isn’t only looking for cuddles tonight.

And Steve’s never been one to deny his sweetheart anything he wants.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Moon River 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, manipulation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Loki

Summary: your husband is a mischievous man.

Note: this kinda just came together.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your eyelids glow. You open them and stare up at the dark ceiling. Slats of silver drape over your body and the one next to you. Your husband's breaths cascade over you in slow draws, his leg tangled over yours.

You look at his silhouette in the supernatural light. He looks oddly blue as he slumbers. You carefully drag your leg from beneath his as you sleep up. Insomnia has ever been a constant companion, not that you ever lack for energy. It's only that even when you sleep, your mind wanders away.

You go to the window and sit on the cushioned bench before it. You peer up at the lunar deity beaming back at you. You admire the distant craters and the sharp border against the night sky.

An urge to go outside and lay in the grass has you on your feet. You glance at the bed. Loki's lean finger splays over it, nearly corner to corner. You tiptoe past him, snatching up the green cloak from the bedpost. You drape it from your shoulders as you flit into the hall.

You grow careless as you get to the stairs. You hurry down and to the front door. You spin out into the night as you shut the door behind you. You face the moonlight and sigh. You go out past the birdbath and spread the cloak on the ground. You lay on it and bask in the eerie haze of the full moon.

The stars wink back at you as the dewy air breezes over your body. You hum an off-key melody you can't place. You hear footsteps in the grass. You're not scared.

"Darling," Loki stands above you. "What ever are you up to?"

You look at him. The moon illuminates the veins beneath his skin, the blue hue still in his complexion. You smile.

"Look," you point to the sky.

He lifts his chin as he follows your finger, "what am I looking at?"

"The moon! Isn't it wonderful?"

He tuts and steps around you. He sits on the other side of the cloak. His eyes fall down to you.

"I've seen many such moons, darling. It begs to ask why you should be out so late," he touches your arm, "why I should wake to an empty bed."

"She's so pretty."

"Who?"

"The moon, silly," you stick your tongue out.

"Ah, not so much as you," he slithers.

You swat him playfully. "You are cheesy."

"Shall I be cruel instead?" He counters.

You put your hand on his and bring it to your heart. You hold it there and gaze up at the sky with a smile. He relents and lays next to you.

"You Midgardians are apt to catch an ague in the night chill," he girds.

"I've me fae husband to keep me safe," you insist.

He sighs, "must you call me that. I am not a fairy, dear."

"You are magical!"

"Hm," he exhales again and drags your hand to his chest instead. He shifts and snakes his arm under your head. He brings you against his side and you nestle into him, eyes clinging to the goddess above.

You blink and wake in bed. You're still against him. He's asleep. He got you in one of his tricks. You know the moon was no dream but he would not let you stay outside. He worries more than he likes to admit.

You try to sit up and he groans, catching your shoulder with his other arm and pushing you back down. He turns onto his side as his hand goes to your cheek. "You are running away again?"

"No!" You argue. "I'm awake and bored."

"You are restless," he reprimands. "Be still, let the world rise."

"Loki," you gently pull his hand away and sit up. "I have an idea."

You get to your knees and bounce. His hand settles on your thigh. He watches you with languid eyes.

"Yes?"

"The aquarium."

"Derived of your midgardian Latin, aquarius, pertaining to water..."

"A big museum of water," you explain. "And fishes."

"Fish, I believe is the plural." He corrects.

"And turtles," you smile. "I always wanted to go. It was on my list. Remember?"

His cheeks tauten and he nods. His eyes stray. "Yes, but that list was for... then."

"The list is forever, so..."

"Hmm," he drones, as he so often does. "Today?"

"Why not?"

He frowns, "you are always in such a hurry." He slowly sits up, leaning on the heels of his hands. His dark hair hangs to his shoulders, tangled. "Is there a reason I should know?"

"Loki," you brush his arm. "I'm well, I promise."

"Yes, let us see this aqua room."

"Aquarium," you correct.

"Yes, yes, as you will," he lifts a hand to your chin, "only after you are ready."

He leans in and kisses you. You smile as he does then push away. You bounce across the bed excited.

"You make certain you do not miss anything," he girds.

"I won't," you chirp as you hurry into the bathroom.

You take out the long container with its seven compartments; one for each day of the week. The doctor gave you these pills. You pluck out Tuesday's dose and swipe up the swirling green bottle that Loki prepared. You wash it down with a measured helping of the sickly elixir. Loki appears behind you in the mirror.

"You certainly are lively, as late," he muses.

"Mm," you give a tight smile as the icy flow permeates your stomach. "I'm just... happy."

"Happy?" He muses as he goes to the shower and cranks it on.

"Very. Aren't you?"

He hums, "so I am." He comes to you and tugs at your nightgown. He teased you last night for the little sheep printed on it. "And I daresay a bit ripe from last night's games."

You make a face at him and raise your arms as he strips you of the cotton. You sigh and drop your arms as his gaze lingers on your torso. You put your hands to your scars, not ashamed, but aware.

"Lulu," you call him by your pet name. His eyes meet yours.

"We match," he traces the deep scar down the center of his chest.

"We do," you shimmy and let your fingers fall down the ridged tissue beneath your skin. Not quite the same but both marked.

"Let us be clean, for a time," he takes your hand guides you to the show. "I can never wait very long before dirtying you once more."

[lil-elle]

Overbooked

group: riize

pair: anton x fem!reader

genre: forced proximity, fluff, suggestive

word count: 4.3k

content: coarse language, kissing, nsfw implications

a/n: the way I've been in such an Anton mood recently is insane

���Uhhh…who'd you say booked this room for us..?” Anton questioned, his voice cracking slightly.

“Seunghan, why, what's wrong?” You stood on your tiptoes, his 6 foot height blocking you from peaking into the room.

“Fucking Seunghan…” he mumbled under his breath. Letting out a shaky breath, he took a few more steps into the room, allowing you to squeeze through the doorway past him.

Your eyes roamed the pristine hotel room, grazing the lush grey carpeting, the silky white curtains, and the wide screen TV mounted on the wall. It was a very elegant room, and you thanked Seunghan in your head for getting it for you…that was until your gaze landed on the lone king sized bed against the left wall, wrapped cleanly in white silk sheets and decorated with plush pillows and two towels sat at the end of it.

“Oh…” You cautiously glanced up at him, his head turned towards the wall with only his bright red pierced ears peeking through his hair as a hint to the thoughts running through his mind.

You placed a soft hand on his arm, to which he trembled almost unnoticeably. “Hey, it's fine. I can sleep on the floor.” You reassured him. He whipped his head around, revealing that the red from his ears had spread to his cheeks too.

“N-no! I'll sleep on the floor, it's alright!” The determined look on his face told you that he wasn't backing down from this and that there was no point in arguing. You smiled softly at him, warmed by his charming sweetness and slight stubbornness.

“Thank you…Anton…” His pupils dilated and you watched as the splotchy red on his cheeks spread to the rest of his face and his lips parted, taking in a quick and sharp breath of air. Suddenly he spun around, stomping towards the bed and landing face down onto the soft and sweet smelling sheets. You hurried over to him, concerned, and reached him just in time to hear a muffled “...when I catch you, Seunghan…”

After you two got settled in, kicking your shoes off, placing your bags in the corner of the room and plugging your phones in to charge on either side of the bed, he picked up one of the towels folded neatly on the end. He looked up at you as you melted into a large cushioned chair next to the bed, his complexion back to its regular pinkish olive colour. “I'll go shower really quick, ‘kay?” The sun had begun to set, casting an orange light across the room and prompting you two to start getting ready for bed.

“Okayyy.” You smiled happily at him and heard him gasp lightly again before he quickly disappeared into the bathroom.

The sound of the running water thrummed again your ears as you closed your eyes and settled further into the chair, noticing just how soft it really was. Without even realising, you drifted off, the noise of the shower and the comfort of the chair lulling you to sleep.

Your consciousness slowly drifted back to you as you felt a gentle poke to your cheek, your eyes fluttering open and meeting a very familiar face. His wet bangs brushed gently against your forehead and his round doe eyes went wide as he processed you looking at him. He somehow ended up with his back against the wall on the other side of the room within a second, his forehead all the way down to his neck flushed a deep red. “I-I didn't, I mean-”

You took in the sight of him, damp hair, plain grey shirt drizzled with wet spots from where water droplets fell from his hair, black sweatpants emphasising his long legs. And on top of all of that he was blushing. Hard. You couldn't deny how charming he looked in this moment.

You spoke up, ignoring the obvious heat creeping up the back of your neck and up to your ears, “I-I should shower now…”

You picked up the other towel, and some pyjamas you'd folded next to it, and rushed to the bathroom, heat overtaking your face. As you passed him, you could've sworn you could hear his heartbeat, fast and hard against his chest.

Locking yourself away in the bathroom, you gazed at yourself in the fogged up mirror. From the sight of your whole face, a deep crimson colour, you could tell the heat covering your body was not from the humidity in the small bathroom.

The shower passed by in a daze. You couldn't believe how many times your brain replayed the scene of waking up to Anton's face so deathly close to yours. Close enough that his freshly washed bangs left a streak of water on your forehead. Close enough that you could feel his breath. Close enough that you could've kis–

Your hairbrush fell to the floor with a clang, startling you out of your thoughts. You met your own wide eyes in the mirror as his muffled voice coming from outside the door filled your ear. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah…yeah, fine…” You responded, bending down to pick yourself hairbrush back up, a slight uncertainty in your voice.

“Be careful, please.” His soft, concerned voice filtering through the door stuck a needle in your heart and you placed the brush onto the vanity with a sigh.

You rushed through your routine, washing and moisturising your face, scrunching your hair with the towel to dry it as much as you could, and slipping into your pyjamas. Cautiously, you opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out, taking in the room now with the blinds closed and the lamps on each bedside table filling the room with warm yellow light. Anton was seated back in the chair you previously slept in, bringing the image of his face so close to yours back into your mind once again.

You took a step forward and the floorboard creaked under you, catching his attention and causing him to look up from his phone. Instantly, he froze. There was no way he was hiding the almost neon red that covered his face within a second of seeing you. Your damp hair, you draped in a shirt a little too big for you, your shorts barely peeking out from under it. The cold wetness of your hair against the back of your neck contrasted the warmth of your skin as you tried to push down the hard thrumming of your heart.

You walked forward, watching as his adams apple bobbed nervously and his eyes traced over your figure as if he was in a daze. You made your way to your bag, tucking your previously worn clothes into it, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from your cheeks. You didn't understand why you suddenly felt this way, why the unfinished fantasy of what Anton could've done that close to your face wouldn't leave your mind.

You slipped between the cold silk sheets as you watched Anton meticulously set up a “bed” on the floor next to you with an extra sheet he found. The pitiful set up had you feeling guilty for making him do this, and a subtle thought poked at your brain, a thought that made your cheeks flare up again for the 20th time that night. “H-hey Anton, maybe I should-”

“No. It's fine. You stay there.” He reassured as he slipped between the thin sheet, barely separating him from the hard ground beneath him. He turned off the lamp on his side and you turned off the other one in response, leaving the room dark and silent. The only thing that broke through the silence was the sound of his soft breathing, somehow loud in your right ear as you stared up at the ceiling. The sound of your heartbeat joined not long after, rippling through your body and keeping you from drifting off to sleep. Minutes passed, though you couldn’t tell how many.

“A-Anton…?” You stuttered softly, to which he responded with a low groan, ringing through your ear and bringing heat to your cheeks. “...are you awake…?” You heard him chuckle lightly.

“Of course,” the sound of rustling fabric came from your right side and you just knew he was shifting around to face your direction, “why, what's up?”

“It's just…it can't be comfortable down there…” Your voice was laced with guilt as you spoke.

“Hey. I'm not making you sleep on the floor…okay?” His concern made your heart flutter in a way you hadn't felt before.

There was silence for a moment and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well what if…” you heard his breathing slow to a stop, as if he was holding his breath and waiting for you to continue. “What if…we both sleep…in the bed…”

The familiar sound of a sharp breath in, followed by silence. The silence continued to stretch out with no sign from Anton that he was going to respond. Had he fallen asleep?

You quickly turned over and flicked the lamp on, letting your gaze land on where you knew he was laying on the floor. His long figure, outlined by the thin sheet draped over him, was laid flat on his back, his hands completely covering his face. His ears were once again giving away his true feelings, bright red behind his long black hair. As if it was contagious, your own ears heated up along with your cheeks. “...A-Anton..?” His breath caught in his throat and you watched as he parted his fingers, peeking up at you.

In a weak and almost inaudible voice, he spoke, “Are you serious…?”

You nodded gently, biting the inside of your lip. He covered his eyes again and rolled over, turning his back to you as he mumbled, the only words you were able to pick up being “...fuck…Seunghan, why…she's so…”

He suddenly sat up with a strained sigh, propping himself up with one of his hands and the other still covering his face. With a better view of his features, you could now see the very familiar sight of him blushing bright red. “An-”

“...fuck it.” He picked himself up off of the ground and turned to face you, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Scoot over…” A wide smile overtook your features and you quickly shimmied to the other side of the bed, giving him space to crawl in with you. His slightly shaky hand pulled the covers back and he hesitantly layed down, as if afraid that making contact with the clean sheets would dirty them somehow. He laid awkwardly staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You turned over to lean on your side, looking towards him.

“Anton…?” You spoke suddenly, making him flinch.

“Uh- huh?” His throat sounded dry and his gaze didn't move from a single spot on the ceiling.

“Can you…turn the lamp off?” There was a soft smile on your face, like you were enjoying seeing him so anxious and flustered. Despite that, your heart was still pounding harder than you've ever felt and your whole body burned like you had a fever.

“O-oh…” his voice cracked and he quickly reached his long arm behind him and flicked off the lamp, leaving the room in total darkness once again.

The air around you felt heavy with tension as you both laid there in the darkness. It was just like before, the only sound making its way to your ears being his breathing, only this time it was much closer and faster.

You don't know what prompted you to do it, but you extended your right arm out, your knuckles brushing against his arm lightly and making him twitch. His breathing caught in his throat and the silence that flooded the room made the tension all the more dense and palpable. You trailed the tip of your finger down his arm until you felt the veins on the back of his hand and you swore that you could hear his heart pounding against his ribs. Heat sat overwhelmingly on your cheeks as your fingers clamoured against his hand, intertwining themselves with his. His hand was much larger than yours, fitting with his height but not the soft and introverted personality he presented. He hesitated, his fingers sitting limply between yours, but after a few moments his hand tightened and embraced yours, the sound of his heartbeat only becoming louder.

You could've cut the tension in the room with a knife as you two laid hand in hand in silence, your hearts beating in sync.

Him accepting your hand hold made you bolder and the darkness in the room that obscured you two from seeing each other encouraged your confidence. Slowly, you scooted closer to him, as if afraid to startle him away. He took a breath in, as if he was able to feel your warmth get stronger.

“Y/n…” His voice was soft and deep like usual, although there was a slight strain to it, like he was holding something back. You turned your head, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, to see him lying on his side, his head resting on the pillow. His eyes looked at you with emotion you've never seen before, emotion that overwhelmed you and forced the butterflies in your stomach to go wild.

He brought your hand that he was holding up to his lips, pressing them against the back of your hand so softly and your flustered brain struggled to comprehend where he got this boldness from. “Anton…” Your voice was weak and breathy, staring back into his siren-like gaze as he held his lips to your hand.

His lips disconnected from your skin with a subtle wet smack and he spoke, his voice rough and quiet. “I'm glad it's so dark in here right now…I'm sure my face is burning up…”

“You–” your trembling voice was cut off by his hand letting go of yours and moving to rest on your waist. His strong hand grasped your hip before pulling you closer to him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. You looked up at him with a shine in your eyes, just shocked by his actions. He sighed softly before chuckling to himself.

“Y'know, Seunghan definitely did this on purpose.” His eyes stared deeply into yours as you processed his words.

“H-huh…?”

“Booking us a room with one bed? Totally on purpose.” His pinky finger fidgeted with the fabric of your shirt, pulling and twisting it with obvious nervousness.

He leaned his forehead against yours as his gaze stayed locked on your eyes, your breath catching in your throat.

He muttered something so quietly that the only reason you were able to pick it up was because of his proximity and the deathly silence that occupied the rest of the room. “...Should never have told him I like you…”

Suddenly every thought in your head came to a halt as his words played over and over again in your mind. It was as if you were forced onto a treadmill, your heart rate rising like crazy and your breathing heavy.

“Y-you…”

He sighed, closing his eyes and nuzzling against your forehead slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he confirmed your uncertainty. “...Yup…” His voice cracked slightly and you heard him swallow anxiously as he opened his eyes to gaze at you again. He chuckled awkwardly to himself, “It's a little obvious…”

You struggled to speak, your throat dry with nerves, but you managed to get just his name out in a slightly scratchy, whiny tone. “Anton…” You watched a shiver run through him as the breath that uttered his name hit his lips. His eyes dropped to your lips and his breathing slowed. The moment seemed to last for hours, despite it only being a few seconds before he met your gaze again.

“Y/n…” his voice, barely above a whisper at this point, speaking your name like that made you let out a soft gasp for air, like you were drowning. “Can I…?” His eyes gestured down at your lips again and when they flew back up to meet yours they were glossy and full of emotion, almost pleading.

Your lips were parted, trying to take in as much air as you could to fuel your rapidly beating heart. His implication muddled your thoughts and you felt as if you were free-falling. You squeezed your eyes shut before taking that final leap and nodding, giving him the reassurance and consent he needed to do something he'd waited so long to do.

His hand on your waist slid up slowly, his fingertips trailing along your arm and coming to rest on your cheek. You could feel his hand trembling.

Almost in slow motion, he closed the gap between you and him, his soft pillowy first only grazing yours and you found yourself fighting a full-body shiver. His breath was hot, almost unbearably so as it covered your lips.

He was hesitating, refusing to finish closing the gap, making you restless.

“An-” With that your mouth was sealed, your words swallowed by the sudden push of his lips to yours. An inaudible squeak pushed up through your throat, drowned out by the soft wet sounds of his lips pressing repeatedly to yours.

He was desperate, much more than you'd expected. It was obvious now that this was something he's wanted to do for a very long time.

His breathing turned to panting as his fingers tightened against your cheek.

“An-mm-”

He used his other arm to prop himself up, putting him in a position where he was leaning over you, his lips still relentless in stealing air from your lungs. His bangs fell against your forehead, light and fluffy from his shower earlier that night, making an obvious shiver run through you.

What you didn't expect was his response to that shiver, a melodic hum from deep in his throat that made you see stars.

His hand trailed back down to your waist, gripping and bunching your shirt in his fist as he tilted his head for a better angle. You gasped for breath against his lips, overwhelmed with the sudden passion he'd drowned you in, but he only submerges you further when he takes the opportunity to flick his tongue against your bottom lip. You gasped, this time with shock and you didn't even notice your hand pushing against his chest, prying his lips from yours.

For a moment, you two just looked at each other's faces, his bright red even in the dark room, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, and his eyelids sitting half-closed. The light coating of saliva on his lips made your head heat up even more and you licked your own unconsciously, making his eyes immediately dart back down to stare at them.

“Y/n…” his voice was raspy and deep, making you squeak with surprise. His hand tightened on your waist and your breath only sped up, anticipating his next words. “I think…I need…to sleep on the floor….” Your eyes shot open at his unexpected words, words that came out through heavy breaths and you were surprised at how he was still out of breath.

“A-Ant-”

“I don't want to stop…” He whispered, almost inaudibly, and it was only now you noticed the look of lust in his eyes. “So…I need to sleep on the floor…”

You sat stunned as he pried himself off of you and made his way back to the makeshift bed on the floor. You couldn't even utter a single word, the memory of the way he was looking down at you, almost like a wild animal that hadn't eaten in days, burned into your mind. What surprised you most, though, was the way your heart fluttered and your stomach turned at the sight.

“A-are you sure?” You managed to stutter out, lifting yourself up to look at him, only for your gaze to meet his broad back. He stayed silent, the audible rapid beat of his heart giving you enough of an answer. You laid back down, your face going red with embarrassment at the thought that you were slightly disappointed.

Safe to say you didn't get a wink of sleep that night, fully awake to welcome the first chirps of the birds outside and the orange light of the sunrise streaming through the blinds. You didn't even spare a glance for Anton as you packed up your individual belongings and cleaned the room, a slave to the way your heart threatened to burst from your chest at the slightest glance of his messy bed hair or busy hands making the bed and gathering his things.

You both made your way out of the room, bags slung over your backs, walking an awkward distance apart from each other as you struggled to keep a blush from overtaking your face. Even his finger pressing the button for the elevator was too much for you, keeping your eyes glued to the floor until you heard the ding signalling the arrival of the elevator. You stepped into the elevator cautiously, your mind swimming at the realisation that you'd be in this small space with just him, if even for a few moments, being too much for you.

The subtle rumbling of the elevator as it travelled floor to floor filled your ears and you could feel heat on the back of your neck from the now close proximity of him.

You were quickly pulled from your chaotic train of thought by the elevator suddenly coming to a stop. Your eyes darted up to the screen above the buttons reading “5” when it should say “G”.

“W-what happened…?” You stuttered out, still unable to bring yourself to look at him. Although, it was a pointless endeavour, as he suddenly invaded your vision, stepping in front of you to spam the button that opens the door. Unsurprisingly, the doors didn't respond, and it seemed you were completely stuck.

“Great…” he sighed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down. For the first time all morning, you were able to look directly at him, your worry taking over all other emotions. You carefully sat down next to him, ignoring the beat of your heart as you peered into his face.

“W-what…do we do…?” You questioned, a slight shake in your voice.

He sighed before leaning his cheek against his knees, looking at you softly.

“There isn't much we can do except sit here and wait for someone to show up and help us.” His soft gaze brought a subtle heat to your cheeks and you questioned how it took you so long to realise you liked him. Suddenly, another realisation hit you like a lightning bolt.

“...Should never have told him I like you…”

His words replayed in your mind. He likes you…and you like him…

Your face flared up, something he definitely noticed as his eyes got slightly wider.

“A-are you okay…?” he questioned anxiously, “claustrophobic…?”

You shook your head slowly, swallowing your nerves. Taking a deep breath in, you finally spoke what was on your mind.

“So…you like me?”

His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open as a pink tint crept onto his face. You gave him a moment to gather himself and he plucked his head from his knees, staring straight ahead for a moment before nodding softly.

Your heart raced as you prepared to confess your feelings to him as well.

“I think I-”

“I'm so sorry.” He hurriedly spat out, leaving you dazed.

“F-for what?” You spoke with a hint of confusion.

“...Kissing you…” He hung his head, as if ashamed.

“Hey, it's okay, you asked and I said yes.” You explained, kneeling to face him. He took in a breath before continuing.

“B-but I got carried away, and you don't even like me like that, and-”

You grasped his face, turning his head towards you to look directly into his glossy eyes.

“Hey…who said I didn't like you…” You said the words with as much composure as you could muster, but the radiating heat in your skin gave away your true feelings. His expression froze in one of shock and you could feel his warm skin under your fingers grow warmer. After a few moments you felt his fingers creep up onto your cheeks, cradling your face.

“Can-”

“Please.”

Without another second of hesitation, he pressed the softest and sweetest kiss to your lips, much different from the passion of last night. You wanted time to freeze in this moment, but the kiss was already over as quickly as it started. You were still steeped in a pool of heat when he spoke again.

“-end?”

“H-huh…?” Your eyes refocused on his, serious and determined.

“...Will you be my girlfriend…?” He repeated, making your heart skip and a wide smile stretched across your face before you even realised. You could only nod before he quickly pulled you into his arms, burying his head into your neck. You giggled as his nose and lips tickled tickled your skin and your heart raced with love and joy.

You both flinched as the elevator suddenly started moving again, the screen finally flicking from “5” to “4” and continuing to go down. You buried your hand in his soft head of hair, chuckling.

“It's like it was waiting for us to sort everything out.” You felt him smile against your skin, making your heart flutter in your chest. He breathed out, his warm breath spreading across the skin of your neck.

“And I suppose I actually need to thank Seunghan…” He mumbled, earning another giggle from you.

“Y'know we're not getting away from this whole thing without a lot of gloating and teasing, right?”

He sighed, finally pulling back from you and looking into your eyes, a wide smile stretching across his cheeks.

He ran a thumb along your cheek gently.

“It's worth it…”

-

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

TAGLIST:

@hyunromi @chocoeon @hyunukitty @minjaezed @ihyeokzu @cake1box @chiiyuuvv

[inkspiredwriting]

The Fainting Incident

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Summary: Y/n can't stand the sight of blood, which leads to a funny situation.

Warnings: none

It was a peaceful Saturday morning in the Hargreeves household. Y/n was in the kitchen preparing breakfast, humming softly to herself, while Five was engrossed in one of his many intricate projects at the dining table. Their children, Maddie and Milo, were still fast asleep, the house enjoying a rare moment of calm.

Y/n smiled as she flipped a pancake, the aroma filling the kitchen. She loved these moments, the simple domesticity of it all. Five glanced up from his work, momentarily distracted by the delightful smell.

"Smells good, love," he said, a rare, genuine smile gracing his features.

"Thanks," Y/n replied, beaming back at him. "Pancakes should be ready in a few minutes."

Just as she was about to pour another dollop of batter onto the griddle, she heard a small, sharp hiss. Turning around, she saw Five examining his finger, a drop of blood oozing from a fresh cut.

"Oh my God, Five! Are you okay?" she exclaimed, rushing over.

"It's just a small cut, nothing to worry about," Five assured her, but his words were cut off by Y/n's sudden paling complexion. Her eyes fixated on the blood, and before Five could react, she swayed and collapsed in a faint.

"Y/n!" Five shouted, jumping up from his chair.

At that exact moment, Diego walked into the kitchen, holding a cup of coffee. He stopped short, taking in the scene: Y/n sprawled on the floor, Five kneeling beside her with a mildly bleeding finger.

"What the hell happened?" Diego asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Y/n fainted," Five said, looking exasperated. "She can't handle the sight of blood."

Diego smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. "Does your wife often faint at the sight of you?"

Five rolled his eyes. "Very funny, Diego. Help me get her to the couch."

With Diego's help, they carefully lifted Y/n and carried her to the living room couch. Five gently placed a cushion under her head and sat by her side, waiting for her to wake up. Diego leaned against the doorway, still amused by the whole situation.

After a few moments, Y/n stirred, her eyes fluttering open. She blinked a few times, her vision clearing to see Five's concerned face hovering over her.

"Hey there," Five said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

Y/n managed a weak smile, trying to make light of the situation. "You see, darling, you make me weak."

Five couldn't help but laugh, his earlier worry dissipating. "You scared me for a second there," he said, still chuckling. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Y/n reassured him, sitting up slowly. "I just... really can't stand the sight of blood."

Diego, who had been quietly observing, snorted. "That's an understatement."

Y/n glanced at him, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Alright, alright, it's a bit more than just 'not liking it.'"

Five wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. "It's okay. I'll just make sure to keep my blood to myself from now on."

"Please do," Y/n said, resting her head on his shoulder. "And maybe next time, just use a band-aid without showing me."

"Deal," Five agreed, kissing the top of her head.

Diego shook his head, grinning. "You two are something else. I'm going to finish my coffee. Try not to faint again, Y/n."

As Diego left the room, Five and Y/n stayed on the couch, enjoying the quiet moment.

"You know," Y/n said, looking up at him, "despite all the chaos, I wouldn't trade this life for anything."

"Neither would I," Five replied, his eyes softening as he gazed at her. "Even with the fainting and all."

Y/n chuckled, feeling grateful for her husband and their quirky, loving life together. "Good to know."

The rest of the day passed without further incident, filled with laughter, family, and the comforting knowledge that no matter what happened, they had each other, fainting and all.

[sevasey51]

I have been loving the POTS series as another girl who has it I always felt alone and that no one understood it. I was always gaslit by doctors saying it’s anxiety etc. 🥺

I always LOVE Rhodes as well. I would love an imagine of reader having an episode at home with Connor. 🥺 like they are dating and like others Halstead brothers 🥺❤️ thank you darling❤️I hope you are well ❤️

❤️❤️❤️

In Sickness and in Health

Summary: Y/N has a POTS episode at home, and Connor calls her brothers, Will and Jay, to help when her heart rate won’t stabilize. Though Y/N is reluctant to worry them, the brothers reassure her and make it clear they’ll always be there for her.

Y/N sat curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over her legs as she flipped absentmindedly through a book. Connor was in the kitchen, humming softly as he prepared dinner. The faint aroma of pasta wafted through the air, a comforting smell that normally would have made her smile. But tonight, something felt… off.

Her chest felt tight, her heart pounding faster than usual. She took a deep breath, trying to shake the dizziness creeping in. Maybe it was just dehydration. Grabbing the glass of water Connor had left for her, she took a few sips and hoped it would pass.

But it didn’t.

“Connor…” her voice trembled, barely louder than a whisper.

He appeared almost instantly, concern etched into his face as he crouched in front of her. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

She clutched her chest, her breathing shallow. “It’s… it’s happening again. My heart’s racing, and I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

Connor’s medical instincts kicked in immediately. He didn’t panic—he never did—but there was a sharpness to his movements as he assessed her. He gently helped her lie down on the couch, elevating her legs with a cushion.

“Okay, stay with me,” he said, his tone calm but firm. “Let’s slow your breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

She tried to follow his instructions, but the dizziness only worsened. “Connor… I-I can’t…”

He reached for the pulse oximeter he always kept in the living room drawer, slipping it onto her finger. His jaw tightened as he saw her heart rate spiking. “You’re okay, Y/N. I’ve got you. Just focus on my voice.”

He retrieved a glass of water with an electrolyte tablet dissolved in it and held it to her lips. “Sip this. Slowly.”

She obeyed, though her hands trembled as she held the glass. The fear in her eyes broke his heart.

The Decision

For the next fifteen minutes, Connor worked to stabilize her, but her heart rate remained stubbornly high, and her breathing was still labored. She was pale and visibly drained. He knew she needed more help.

“Sweetheart,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “I think I need to call Will and Jay.”

Her eyes widened in alarm. “No… please, Connor. Don’t. I don’t want them to worry.”

“They’ll want to know,” he argued gently. “And honestly, I could use their help right now. They love you—they’ll understand.”

Tears pricked at her eyes, but she gave a small nod, too exhausted to argue further. “Okay… just don’t let them freak out.”

“I promise,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead before stepping away to make the calls.

The Halstead Brothers Arrive

Jay arrived first, having bolted from the district the moment Connor called. His face was tight with worry as he rushed into the apartment. “Sweetheart,” he said, dropping to his knees beside the couch. “What happened?”

She gave him a weak smile, her voice barely audible. “Just… my heart being dramatic.”

Jay glanced at Connor, his protective instincts in overdrive. “Is she okay?”

“She’ll be fine,” Connor assured him. “Her heart rate’s been stubborn, but I’ve been managing it. I didn’t want to risk her being alone if it got worse.”

Will arrived moments later, a medical bag slung over his shoulder. His eyes scanned his sister, taking in her pale complexion and shallow breaths. “Honey,” he murmured, kneeling on her other side. “How bad is it?”

“I’m okay,” she insisted, though her voice wavered. “Really.”

Connor gave Will a rundown of her symptoms and what he’d already done. The two of them worked together seamlessly, Connor monitoring her vitals while Will administered a small dose of her prescribed beta-blocker to help bring her heart rate down.

Reassurance

As her heart rate finally started to stabilize, Y/N let out a shaky breath of relief. Jay sat at her feet, his hand resting gently on her ankle, while Will perched on the arm of the couch, watching her closely.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” she whispered, her eyes darting between her brothers and Connor.

“Don’t apologize,” Jay said firmly. “You’re our sister. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

Will nodded, his expression softening. “Honey, we’d rather know when something’s wrong than find out later. You’re family. That’s what we’re here for.”

Connor squeezed her hand, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “They’re right. You don’t have to hide this from us. We love you—episodes and all.”

Her eyes filled with tears, but this time, they were tears of gratitude. “Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Always, sweetheart,” Jay said, his tone gentle.

“Always,” Will echoed, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

Aftercare

Once her episode had fully passed, Jay stayed behind to keep her company while Connor and Will worked on cleaning up. Jay kept the mood light, cracking jokes to make her laugh, while Connor prepared tea and a light snack for her.

“Next time,” Connor said as he handed her the tea, “we’re not waiting so long to call them.”

Y/N smiled softly, leaning against his shoulder. “Okay. I promise.”

Her brothers stayed until she fell asleep, each of them silently vowing to always be there for her—no matter what.

Hunni you are so so welcome, i totally get where you coming from with being gaslit by the doctors and just anyone it’s exhausting and mentally draining currently having to fight with my doctors about a cyst :/. But I’m so glad this little corner of the world helps and with that you love this imagine and that it brings some much needed comfort 🫶🏻

[iinryer]

for the scene prompts! number 30 and 🛋️🔑💭!

a little scene prompt game to get me writing!

[🛋️🔑💭 + 30: grabbing onto their arm]

takes place between s2 and s3!

—

The muffled, scraping sound of a key in the lock is what finally catches his attention.

Buck can’t even find it in himself to react. He’s nauseous and in so much pain that, at this point, embarrassment isn’t even close to being on the menu. He can’t go anywhere anyway, so he simply waits to be found.

It’s Eddie, because of course it’s Eddie.

Buck can’t see him yet from where he’s perched on the stairs, but he can hear his soft humming amidst the quiet shuffling and gentle click of the door being closed with care. He must have been listening to the radio on his way over. Music has been sticking to him again, Buck’s noticed. It’s endearing. And relieving, to know he’s doing better after—

Buck closes his eyes on an inhale and lets his forehead roll against the wall. Breathes out harshly.

When he opens them, Eddie is in the kitchen, finally in line of sight, setting a paper grocery bag on the counter before turning towards the sofa. Because that’s where Buck is supposed to be.

The double take Eddie does would be comical if Buck weren’t so miserable. Can’t even muster a grimace-meant-to-be-a-smile when Eddie meets his eyes.

There’s a beat, then Eddie blinks. Scans over Buck, and across the stairs, clearly spots the crutches propped at the bottom, where Buck left them. He takes in Buck’s sweat stained t-shirt, the surely pathetic and drooping expression on his face, greasy curls, nausea-pale complexion, where he’s slumped halfway between the main floor and the lofted bedroom. Stuck. Couldn’t make it up the stairs. Couldn’t get himself back down.

Buck’s not sure what he expects. An eye roll. A chewing out, maybe. A frustrated sigh and a disappointed comment.

What were you thinking, Buck. How long have you been stuck sitting there, Buck. Why didn’t you call for help, Buck.

All easy contenders. All questions he doesn’t really have any answers to.

But what he surely doesn’t expect is for Eddie to… deflate, is the only way he can think to describe it.

His eyes go all sad and his shoulders fall, just a little. His mouth pinches in the way it does when he’s worried, but he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t ask anything. Doesn’t sigh or roll his eyes or look irritated or disappointed. He just climbs the stairs—two at a time, the show-off—and gingerly sets himself on the step below where Buck is all but collapsed in a heap, head still resting against the wall under the railing.

Eddie’s careful when he presses the pads of his fingers against the inside of Buck’s wrist, careful when he examines the cast on his leg for damage or strain, careful when he feels for the pulse at the bottom of his useless foot, careful when he pulls out his phone light to check Buck’s pupils.

Careful, careful, careful.

He doesn’t say a word.

Neither does Buck.

After finishing his assessment, and apparently deeming Buck safe for transport back to the sofa—no C-collar required—Eddie simply rises to his feet and offers a hand. Like it’s that simple. Like Buck had just been lounging on the stairs of his own volition. Like he hasn’t been trapped there by his own injuries for the better part of an hour.

Buck feels a telltale burning in the back of his nose that he immediately elects to ignore, and belatedly drops his hand into Eddie’s.

By mostly Eddie’s strength, they’re able to get Buck’s near-dead weight upright with an arm thrown over Eddie’s shoulders, lowering himself one agonizing step at a time down to the floor. He’s heaving and sweating and shaking, but he’s once more on solid ground. Eddie maneuvers the bulky cast on Buck’s leg around the obstacles and disarray in the loft before finally, delicately depositing Buck onto the sofa. Buck immediately slumps into the cushions, head rolling back, trying to catch his breath and stave off the worst of the pain.

The next thing he knows, there’s a hand on his shoulder, rousing him gently. Buck opens his eyes to Eddie with his water bottle and the little orange container of pain meds. Pitifully, but gratefully, Buck accepts both.

As soon as he’s swallowed the pills and rehydrated a bit, he finds himself caught up in a whirlwind of touch and motion. Eddie bullying him into a clean shirt. Then there’s a warm, wet cloth wiping down his neck, his face, his arms, and embarrassingly, his armpits. He feels like a ragdoll, letting Eddie maneuver his limbs, his torso, his head.

The last thing Eddie does is tilt Buck’s head down, and absolutely goes to town on his greasy, wild hair with a canister of dry shampoo.

He has no idea if Eddie figured out that’s what Buck had been willing to risk life and limb for on the stairs to retrieve from the loft, or if it was just a lucky pull, but it makes his eyes start to water for real. By the time Eddie has finished his work, Buck is sniffling in earnest. Eddie kindly says nothing, just encourages Buck to rest his forehead against his stomach, just keeps up the charade of combing the powder through Buck’s hair with his fingers until the shaking stops—and then a little longer still.

After a while, Buck reaches up—eyes still closed, face still hidden in the fabric of Eddie’s shirt and the warmth of his stomach, hair still being brushed through by Eddie’s deft fingers—and grasps onto Eddie’s forearm. Squeezes. Releases.

Before he gets too far into untangling himself though, Eddie catches him. The arm Buck had grabbed, rotating and pushing back into Buck’s palm, Eddie’s hand finding its way to the soft swell of Buck’s forearm in kind. A facsimile of a warrior’s arm clasp. But not posturing, no show of strength, simply holding.

After a beat, the hand still in Buck’s hair slides around to the back of his head. Fingertips brushing the shell of his ear. Palm cradling. The charade of an act of service long forgotten.

They breathe.

And Buck lets himself be held.

[now on ao3]

[clawsdevour]

just stfu

wc: 0.3k content warning: established relationship, iwaizumi x reader, fluff, not proofread

೨౿*:..

"hajjj..!!!" you exclaimed while sitting next to him on the couch where he was situating himself with the buzzing, colorful, entertainment in front of him.

"hmm?" he hummed out, beady slender eyes fixing their gaze on you the moment he heard his name called out from the other room.

"okay so basically i want a new dress that screams out summer since we're gonna go to okinawa next week," explaining your reason for coming to him despite knowing he has no sense of women's fashion.

staring at his smooth complexion, an eyebrow tilting up the moment you bring out your phone for his viewing. the lit up screen showing a simple white flowy dress. swiping to the next dress, it's a cute and flowery sundress.

"don't you have something similar to these already?" averting his narrow eyes at you.

well.. he wasn't wrong, but why not have multiple? every click on the images, he's imagining what you'd look like as the model. a subtle smile ghostly appears on his thin lips as he continues to press on the photos with your face in mind.

"but they're cute!" you playfuly whined, iwaizumi's smile growing on his face. "also i DON'T have something similar to the white dress, just saying haj.."

slouching yourself into the plush and soft cushion of the couch as you continued to observe him look at the choices, you're running your mouth about the cut and how the shape of the dress is able to outline your curves and how they're different from the dresses you already own.

"soooo... haj," catching him in your irresistible eye contact after your little lecture on different articles of dresses.

"which one do you think i should get–" stopping right when you were about to finish your sentence.

Iwaizumi shuts you up with his lips crashing against yours for a gentle, delicate peck that completely quiets you down as your eyes widen in surprise. taking his lips off yours, he looks back down to point at your phone.

"just get them, i want to see you in both dresses."

masterlist here

[ven-venthatgirl]

Title: A Demon’s Christmas Glow

My honest reaction:

—————————————

Snowflakes drifted softly outside, painting the barren land in a blanket of white. The air was crisp, and the night sky shimmered with stars, twinkling like tiny crystals. Inside the modest cabin you and Gyutaro had claimed as your temporary hideout, warmth radiated from a small hearth, and the faint scent of spiced tea lingered in the air.

For most, Christmas was a time of joy, family, and celebration. For you and Gyutaro, it was something entirely different—a rare moment to embrace humanity amid the shadows. Tonight wasn’t about grand gifts or lavish decorations but about the comfort of being together.

Gyutaro sat by the window, his gangly frame hunched over as he traced patterns in the frosted glass with a clawed finger. His green eyes, marbled with hues of sorrow and longing, reflected the flickering firelight. He wore a threadbare sweater you had insisted he try, though he protested that it looked ridiculous on him. It was oversized and lopsided, the bright red contrasting starkly with his pale, sickly complexion. Yet, to you, he looked endearingly out of place, like a forgotten piece of a broken puzzle finally finding its fit.

“You’re staring again,” he muttered, his raspy voice cutting through the silence. His tone was gruff, but there was no venom in it—just the hint of embarrassment he couldn’t hide.

You smiled, leaning back against the cushions on the floor. “Can you blame me? You look… festive.”

“Festive?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I look stupid.” But the faint flush creeping up his neck betrayed his true feelings.

Rising to your feet, you crossed the room and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You look perfect,” you said softly, letting your fingers linger. His shoulders stiffened at first, but he didn’t pull away.

“What’s the point of this anyway?” he grumbled, motioning vaguely at the room. You had strung together makeshift decorations—paper snowflakes, a small tree you’d scavenged and adorned with candles, and a single garland draped across the mantle. It wasn’t much, but it transformed the space into something magical.

“The point,” you began, leaning against the window beside him, “is to make memories. Good ones. Ones that remind us we’re more than just what the world sees.”

He was silent for a moment, his gaze fixed on the snowy landscape outside. Then, almost hesitantly, he asked, “And you really think I deserve that?”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. Gyutaro was so much more than the cruel, bitter demon he often portrayed. Beneath the rough exterior was someone who had been hurt, abandoned, and scorned by a world that refused to understand him. And yet, here he was, allowing you into his broken heart piece by piece.

“Of course you do,” you replied firmly. “You’ve been through so much, Gyutaro. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve happiness.”

He turned to face you, his mismatched eyes searching yours for any hint of deception. When he found none, he sighed, his lips curving into a crooked smile. “You’re too good to me, y’know that?”

“Someone has to be,” you teased, earning a soft chuckle from him. It was a rare sound, one that warmed you more than any fire ever could.

As the night wore on, you coaxed him into helping you with the final touches of the evening. Together, you prepared a simple meal—more for the tradition than necessity—and sat by the fire, sharing stories from your past. Gyutaro, who rarely opened up, surprised you with snippets of his childhood. His voice was tinged with bitterness, but there was also a fragile yearning for the innocence he’d lost.

At some point, you produced a small gift you’d hidden under the tree—a scarf you had painstakingly knit over the past few weeks. It wasn’t perfect, with uneven stitches and frayed edges, but it was made with love.

“For me?” he asked, staring at it as if it were the most precious thing he’d ever seen.

“Who else?” you joked, wrapping it around his neck. The deep green fabric matched his eyes, and though he looked awkward wearing it, you couldn’t help but beam. “Now you’ll stay warm, even on the coldest nights.”

He didn’t respond immediately, instead pulling the scarf closer to his face. His clawed hands trembled slightly, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice raw with emotion.

You reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Merry Christmas, Gyutaro.”

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to believe in something good. Sitting by the fire with you, the world outside forgotten, he thought maybe—just maybe—he could have a place in this world, too.

And as snow continued to fall, blanketing the earth in quiet serenity, the two of you shared a moment of peace that neither would ever forget.

—————————————

A gyutaro comfort fanfic coming right up for @mrsshabana

[unboundprompts]

writing a fic where blorbo is poisoned and blorbo in love with her has to take care of her, ideas for how i could get this across?

I would recommend doing some research on the poison involved so that it's as realistic as possible. In a fantasy/sci-fi setting you can probably make up your own poison and choose the symptoms and treatment you deem the best for the situation. Here are some ideas to help you with that:

General Symptoms of Poison

-> from this source.

Stomach Pain

Feeling Nauseous/Being Sick

Drowsiness

Dizziness

Weakness

High Temperature

Chills (shivering)

Loss of Appetite

Headache

Irritability

Difficulty Swallowing

Breathing Difficulties

Skin Rash

Blue Lips and Skin

Double Vision/Blurred Vision

Sudden, Noticeable Heartbeats (Palpitations)

Mental Confusion

Seizures

Loss of Consciousness

Treatment

-> seeking medical help is also a good idea. The best idea probably.

-> from this source.

If they are poisoned by swallowing something, try to get them to spit out anything that is remaining in their mouth.

If they are unconscious and swallowed something, try to wake them to encourage them to spit out anything left in their mouth. Do not put your hand into their mouth and do not try to make them sick.

If the poison is on their skin or clothes, remove their clothes and wash the affected area with warm or cool water. Be careful not to contaminate yourself.

Lay the person on their side with a cushion behind their back and their upper leg pulled slightly forward so that they do not fall on their face or roll backwards. (Recovery Position)

If vomiting, keep their head pointed down to prevent them from breathing it in or swallowing it. Do not give them anything to eat or drink.

If they have stopped breathing or their heart has stopped, perform CPR.

It is important to know what substances you think the person may have swallowed, when it was taken, why it was taken, how it was taken, and how much was taken.

Any existing medical conditions prior to being poisoned are important to be aware of, as it may impact their recovery/ the poison may have effects on their condition.

Activated Charcoal - sometimes used to treat someone who's been poisoned. It binds to the poison and stops it being further absorbed into the blood.

Antidotes - these are substances that either prevent the poison from working or reverse its effects.

Sedatives - may be given if the person is agitated.

Ventilator (breathing machine) - may be used if the person stops breathing.

Anti-epileptic medicine - may be used if the person has seizures.

Writing Prompts For a Character Being Poisoned

-> feel free to edit and adjust pronouns as you see fit.

"Hey, hey, hey," she was lightly tapping his face, his head lulled to the side. "Open your eyes," she said to him gently, her heart sinking with each passing second. "Wake up, I need you here with me."

She had trouble keeping her eyes open. The room was spinning. She felt so weak. All she could hear was their voice, as if they were far away, telling her not to fall asleep.

They had this awful marking on their skin. It crawled across their shoulders and peeked out from underneath their shirt at the sleeves and neck. She thought it looked like it was getting worse every day, slowly blossoming across their skin. "It's not as bad as it looks," they said, trying to make her feel better. The raspiness of their voice and pale complexion did not fill her with hope.

"Your heart is pounding," she said, pressing a hand to his chest. His skin was feverish, warmth radiating off of him. Yet, he shivered as if he were freezing. "Only because I get nervous around you," he responds, a flirty tilt to his voice. They both knew that wasn't the only reason, but she smiled anyway.

"Will you eat something? For me?" They shook their head miserably. "I can't."

If you like what I do and want to support me, please consider donating! I also offer editing services and other writing advice on my Ko-fi!

[hmhas-00]

Ch. 19

Hit Me Hard & Soft

A/N- I hope everyone is prepared for the next few chapters because ohh my. 💔 Can we get a like and rb for Billie and Remy, because they are going THRU ittt rn.

Billie’s POV

Remy lay still, recovering from anesthesia, on a hospital bed that seemed to swallow her whole. I wanted to climb in with her, shut my eyes, and wake up in her apartment with the little window shining down on us.

I walked into the room. The nurse, about to walk out and shut the door behind her gave me a reassuring smile.

“Wait, could I ask you to do me a favor?” I asked, just before she left.

“Anything, dear.”

“Could you make sure that when she wakes up, she doesn’t know that I was here?” I said, my voice soft as I briefly glanced at Remy.

The little old lady looked a bit confused, as she had probably never received a request this odd.

“We’re in a fight. I don’t even think we’re friends anymore,” I added.

“Friendships can be tough.” Her expression became kind and understanding. “I’ll see to it that she doesn’t know. Even though you showed up, and it would probably warm her heart.”

I nodded, “Thank you.”

She left, closing the door behind her, and giving us some space.

I sat in a cold, cushioned chair, scooting it forward until my knees touched the hospital bed. I didn’t know what to do, so I just watched her breathe along with the beeping on the heart monitor. Her forehead was bruised from it probably hitting the stirring wheel, and her arm was in a long cast, keeping her wrist and forearm in place. Her lips were dry and pale, cracking a bit, and her complexion was paler than usual, with a dark, purple hue under her eyes.

My hand trembled a bit as I grabbed her free hand, the one connected to the IV. I interlocked our fingers, using my other hand to keep them together. “Oh, Remy.” I sighed. I vacantly stared at her, watching her chest rise and fall slowly, as I withdrew from reality.

I straightened up my slumped shoulders, looking up at my mom who I hadn’t even noticed was in the room.

“Hey… how’s our girl doing?” She gently patted my shoulder.

I shrugged, looking back at Remy.

“Why don’t we get some food before she wakes up? The doctor said she needed lots of rest to recover from the concussion.”

I shook my head, but my loss of appetite wasn’t the reason why. I wanted to be with her for as long as I could, before she woke up.

“I want to leave when she wakes up.” I said, quietly.

“Honey, why?” She furrowed her brows, looking down at me.

My voice trembled, “I don’t want her to know I was ever here, okay? She doesn’t want me here. I wouldn’t want me here.”

“That’s not true. Not in the slightest. When your wisdom teeth got removed, the first thing you asked for was Remy, and she was in the car with us.”

I shook my head, “This is different, mom.”

She crossed her arms, wanting to say more, but she knew when I put my mind to something she wasn’t going to change it.

“We’ll be out in the waiting room.” She stepped out.

I slid my chair closer to her top half, moving her hair out of her face, and behind her ears. I took some aquafor balm out of my pocket, squeezing some out onto my finger and smearing it gently on her lips. I traced the outlines of them, getting rid of the chapped, dry feeling.

I held her hand with both of mine again, warming up her cold fingers with my hot breath.

I do my best to keep my feelings inside. Despite trying not to, I can’t help but feel anger. I just had a strong feeling she was on her phone with either her boss, or Rachel.

How could she be so reckless? I thought.

It was easier to be upset at her, and blame her for everything, than to feel guilty. I felt like I was going through several stages of grief, even though she was going to be perfectly fine after a few weeks of recovery. The thought of her not being so lucky slithered back into my mind, making my stomach stir. I was a tennis ball being spiked back and forth between resentment and culpability.

Although I wanted to wake her up and tell her how selfish she was for almost leaving me in this cruel world all alone, I didn’t want to let go of her. I wanted to lay with her, pull her into my chest so she throws a leg over me, and kiss her forehead.

Part of me didn’t want her to know I was ever here, so she would know what I felt like each time I expected her.

I couldn’t keep my eyes from watering as I quietly said, “I’m sorry, Remy.” My head shook slowly, my eyes hooded and tired from getting close to no sleep these days.

“I’m sorry things are like this. I’m sorry I’m like this.” I whispered, tears falling on our intertwined hands.

“I love you so much.” I said, looking at her. “You don’t know it, but I do.”

I leaned my forehead on our hands, crying for our friendship, crying for our fights, crying for our memories. I cried for myself, and how broken my heart was. It wasn’t even fair how I’d put myself in her shoes in a heartbeat so she didn’t have to feel an ounce of pain. I wanted to think she’d do the same. Deep down, I knew she would. And I knew she’d be here sitting with me if it were the other way around. After all, she took a plane to see me for a few hours the day before.

Which brings me back to my anger. I didn’t want to be like this. But it was easier than hating myself for pushing her away.

Somewhere between the void of emotions present, I must’ve dozed off with my head on the side of the hospital bed. That is, until the heart rate monitor began to beep a little faster than before, bringing the nurse inside to check.

I lifted my head up, wiping the corner of my mouth and looking up startled. I turned to look at Remy, seeing her move her jaw and nose together, attempting to say something that only came out as slight grunts. Her brows furrowed, and you could see her eyelids, still shut but moving as her eyeballs looked around at nothing.

“She must be waking up from the anesthesia.” The nurse smiled at me, allowing me to feel a sense of calmness I hadn’t felt since we received the news.

“I should go.” I backed away, but she stopped me.

“She won’t be completely attentive, if you want to stick around a bit longer. I’ll be back in a few minutes to check on her.” She checked her IV drip and her vitals faster than I thought it could be done. She looked like she could do it blindfolded and in her sleep. She must’ve come with the hospital when it was built, I thought. “I know, don’t worry, she won’t know you were here.” She added, smiling at me sweetly.

I got nervous, watching Remy barely open her eyes. She looked like she was about to doze off again, leaning her face to the side.

“Don’t worry.” She ensured, standing nearby.

I sat back down, looking at her. “Hey,” I hummed, my voice soft as she reached for my hand.

She murmured nonsense, frowning, squeezing my hand with the small amount of strength left in her.

“It’s okay,” I skimmed the back of her hand with my thumb. “You’re okay.” I nodded slowly, bringing her hand up to my lips. They grazed over her knuckles as she tried to move her other, freshly operated arm.

She breathed out a small painful moan.

“Aht aht!” I say gently, pressing her shoulder down against the hospital bed.

Her light blue hospital gown seemed itchy and uncomfortable. I wondered if she wore the clothes I sent her this morning. I wonder if they had blood on them from the accident, if she needed any new clothes for when she leaves. I wonder if that beautiful red dress was in the back of the rental, still waiting to be towed away on the highway.

She looked drop-dead gorgeous in that dress. I didn’t want her to know that. That hurt piece of my heart wanted her to know it disappointed me, her getting all ready and wearing that for her superiors. The truth is, that dress complimented her glowy, tan skin perfectly. Her hazel eyes were a dark shade of forest green that made her look more beautiful than Christmas. Staring at her was bewitching. Intoxicating. It didn’t even matter what she was wearing, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get that red dress out of my mind. I’d never seen that dress in her closet before. She must’ve purchased it prior to her meeting. I wonder if she’d ever buy an outfit to impress me.

She looked straight at me with droopy eyes and my heart fell down into my stomach. I smiled at her shyly.

“Mmm… Billie.” She murmured.

I looked at the nurse. She nodded at me.

“Yes, pretty, it’s me.” I tilted my head, turning back to Remy. “I’m here.”

She gave me a faint smile, but her pain interrupted our interaction again. She scrunched her face, letting go of my hand to clutch her arm. She moaned in pain, closing her eyes.

“She’s- she’s in pain.” I watched the nurse approach her bedside. I ran my hand through her hair, concerned as she put something in her IV bag.

“This will take the edge off. The local anesthetic is wearing off, but this will help.”

I nodded, brushing away the bangs that had fallen over her eyes. Remy’s eyes continued to fight her sleep. “Do you think she’ll remember this later?”

“Not a chance.” She shook her head. “If she does, she’ll probably think it’s a dream.”

Remy dozed off, finally leaving her eyes shut. “There you go...” I whispered. I stroked her hair, de-tangling it a bit.

The nurse gave me a smile, walking out. “Will you be okay?”

I nodded, telling her thank you.

I spent the next two hours watching her sleep. It was hard to convince myself to leave her. The thought of her mom coming to see her made me feel a little better, but I knew I could take better care of her. I fought myself on if I should stay or not. Finally, I gathered the courage to rip the bandaid off and leave.

I lingered a minute, standing next to her to see her pretty lips and pretty nose one more time. I leaned, hovering over her for a moment. I slowly lowered myself, planting a soft kiss on her cheek. I moved a couple inches over, meeting her lips with mine. The softest, most undetectable, barely-there kiss made my heart flutter. I knew it would fuel my dreams for the rest of my life, in good and bad ways.

I stood up straight and turned around, seeing my mom standing at the doorway. My breathing stopped and I froze in place. Her head was tilted, taking in what she saw. She opened her arms for me and I walked straight into them. Her embrace healed my soul, regulating my heartbeat and making me feel seen.

“Come on. Bus is waiting.” She pulled away, giving me a warm, sympathetic smile.

[bigmpregnm]

Billy's Choice - Part 2

[Story Collection] | [Part 1] [●] [Part 3]

The sun was beginning to set on Sunday, September 1st. Billy walked briskly down the sidewalk, with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his hoodie as he tried to ignore the persistent queasiness swirling in his stomach. Eight weeks had passed since his day at the beach with Antonio, and the memories of their intimate moment in the car were still fresh in Billy’s mind. They hadn’t met since that day, but Antonio had invited him over for a relaxed night of video games and catching up, something that Billy never declined.

He had been feeling off for the past few days. It started with mild nausea that he initially brushed off as a simple stomach bug, but the symptoms gradually intensified. He was constantly fatigued, his energy levels dipping unexpectedly throughout the day. His appetite was all over the place; some days, he couldn’t stand the sight of food, while on others, he was ravenous beyond belief, craving the most unusual combinations. Additionally, his lower abdomen felt unusually bloated and tender, his jeans fitting a tad tighter than usual around his waist, which only added to his discomfort.

As he approached Antonio’s apartment building, Billy took a moment to catch his breath, pressing a hand lightly against his unsettled stomach. He hoped that a fun evening with his best friend would distract him from whatever was going on with his body. Billy entered the familiar lobby and took the elevator to Antonio’s floor. As he walked down the hallway, he could already feel a smile tugging at his lips in anticipation. Reaching Antonio’s door, he knocked twice and waited, hearing the muffled sounds of movement from inside.

When the door opened, Antonio welcomed Billy with his perfect smile, only wearing a pair of snug, dark gray short shorts that clung to his hips and thighs, accentuating his lean muscles and athletic look. The shorts ended mid-thigh, revealing his well-defined legs. Billy couldn’t help but notice the light dusting of hair that trailed down from Antonio’s abs and disappeared beneath the waistband. The sight made Billy gasp as he remembered what Antonio’s shorts were hiding in his bulge.

“Hey, Billy! Antonio exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine delight. He stepped forward, enveloping Billy in a tight, warm hug.

Billy returned the embrace, feeling a sense of comfort wash over him despite his earlier discomfort. “Hey, Antonio,” Billy replied, his voice slightly muffled against Antonio’s shoulder. “Good to see you.”

Antonio pulled back, his eyes narrowing slightly in concern as he took in Billy’s slightly pale complexion. “You alright, man? You look a little under the weather,” Antonio asked, his tone laced with genuine worry.

Billy shrugged, offering a small, tired smile as he stepped into the apartment, Antonio closing the door behind them. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling kind of off lately. Probably just a bug or something.”

Antonio followed him into the living room, gesturing for Billy to sit on the plush, comfortable couch. “Maybe something you ate earlier?”

Billy sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. “Well, it started a few days ago. I’ve been feeling nauseous, especially in the mornings. Sometimes, it gets better during the day, but other times it lingers. I’ve also been super tired. I could sleep all day and still feel exhausted. And my appetite is all over the place. One minute, I’m starving, and the next, I can’t even think about food without feeling sick.”

Antonio listened carefully; his brow furrowed in concern. “That doesn’t sound like just a regular bug. Have you been to a doctor yet?”

Billy shook his head. “No, I figured I’d wait it out a bit and see if it gets better on its own. Plus, with classes starting up again, I’ve been pretty busy.”

“Maybe you should get it checked out, just to be safe,” Antonio said, smiling at Billy, who responded with a firm nod. “In the meantime, I have something that might take your mind off things.”

Billy raised an eyebrow, recognizing that playful tone all too well. “Oh no, what are you up to now?”

Antonio chuckled, leaning back and stretching his arms behind his head, his muscles flexing subtly with the movement. “How about a little rematch? Same stakes as last time.”

Billy groaned though he couldn’t suppress the grin forming on his lips. “Seriously? After what happened last time? You’re not going to make me wear another ridiculous speedo, are you?”

Antonio faked innocence, his grin widening. “Who, me? Would I do that?”

Billy laughed, shaking his head. “Yes, you would.”

Antonio leaned forward, his eyes dancing with amusement. “Come on, Billy! Think of it as a distraction from all the stuff you’re feeling. Plus, maybe you’ll win this time and get your revenge.”

Billy eyed him skeptically, but the idea of getting revenge was too tempting. “Alright, fine. But this time, I want to know what I’m getting into.”

Antonio wagged his finger playfully. “Nope. Just like last time, it’s a surprise.”

Billy hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Alright, but promise me it isn’t a speedo.”

“I promise it’s not a speedo,” Antonio exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and grabbing two controllers from the entertainment center. He tossed one to Billy, who caught it deftly despite his sluggishness.

As the game loaded up on the large flat-screen TV, Billy felt his stomach grumble loudly, reminding him of the persistent hunger he’d been feeling all day. Antonio glanced over, eyebrows raised.

“Hungry much?” He teased, though his tone was light.

Billy rubbed his stomach sheepishly. “You have no idea. I could eat a horse right now.”

Antonio laughed, getting up and heading towards the kitchen. “Well, lucky for you, I stocked up on snacks. Stay put; I’ll bring out the goods.”

Antonio returned moments later carrying an impressive array of snacks—potato chips, pretzels, cookies, sandwiches, and sodas. He set them down on the coffee table in front of Billy, who immediately reached for a handful of chips, popping them into his mouth. Antonio chuckled as he sat beside Billy on the couch, surprised by his friend’s hunger.

They dove into the first round, but it quickly became apparent that Billy’s focus was elsewhere. He couldn’t stop reaching for the snacks, his hunger seemingly insatiable. Every few seconds, he’d grab another handful, barely taking his eyes off the food as he tried to keep up with Antonio’s skilled gameplay.

Unsurprisingly, Antonio won the first match with ease. He shot Billy a teasing glance. “Looks like your mind’s more on the food than the game.”

Billy shrugged, unapologetic, as he munched on a cookie. “Can’t help it. I’m starving.”

They started the second round, but the pattern continued. Billy’s attention was split between the screen and the snacks. So, despite his best efforts, Antonio dominated the game once again. After the third round ended in another decisive victory for Antonio, Billy leaned back against the couch, his hands resting on his now satisfied and bloated stomach. He let out a contented sigh, though a part of him was slightly disappointed at losing so badly.

Antonio turned to him, a triumphant grin on his face. “Well, well, looks like I won again.”

Billy rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Yeah, yeah. I blame the snacks. They were too distracting.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Antonio teased as he got up from the couch. “Wait right here. I have something for you.”

Billy watched as Antonio disappeared into his bedroom, returning moments later with a small box wrapped in bright red paper, identical to the one from their previous bet.

“Oh no,” Billy groaned, eyeing the box warily. “What did you get me this time?”

Antonio devilishly grinned as he handed the box over. ��Only one way to find out.”

Billy took the box hesitantly, weighing it in his hands before carefully undoing the ribbon and peeling back the wrapping paper. His eyes widened in shock as he pulled out a tiny, vibrant red posing thong—the kind that bodybuilders wore on stage to showcase every muscle. There was barely any fabric to it—just a thin waistband and a small pouch in the front, with even thinner straps in the back.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Billy exclaimed, holding the minuscule garment between his fingers. The thin straps and minimal fabric left little to the imagination, and he couldn’t fathom how he was supposed to fit into it.

Antonio chuckled, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What? I think it suits you.”

Billy looked at him incredulously. “Suits me? This thing barely covers anything! There’s no way it’s going to fit over all this.” He gestured vaguely towards his hips and glutes, emphasizing his point, also looking at his big bulge, which would barely fit into the small pouch.

Antonio shrugged, unbothered. “A bet’s a bet, Billy. And besides, I promise you won’t have to wear it in public this time. It’s just for fun.”

Billy sighed, contemplating the absurdity of the situation. Part of him wanted to refuse outright, but another part—the part that enjoyed these playful antics with Antonio—found himself considering it. “Fine,” he relented after a moment, shaking his head with a small smile.

Antonio laughed, clapping his hands together. “Yay! Now, off you go. The bathroom awaits.”

Taking the tiny thong and steeling himself for the inevitable struggle, Billy went to the bathroom. Closing the door behind him, he took a deep breath and began to undress, folding his clothes neatly and setting them on the countertop. Standing there naked, he once again examined the thong, turning it over in his hands as he tried to figure out the best way to approach this challenge.

He carefully stepped into the thong, pulling it up slowly over his thighs. The fabric stretched taut almost immediately, the thin straps digging slightly into his skin as he worked to maneuver it upward. Billy encountered a significant obstacle as he tried to pull the waistband over his hips. His wide hips resisted the minimal give of the elastic, making it a strenuous effort to get the thong into position. Billy huffed in frustration, wiggling and adjusting his stance.

“Come on,” he muttered under his breath, gripping the straps firmly and giving another determined tug. The fabric strained but held, inching slowly over his hips until finally, with a final pull, it snapped into place around his waist. He carefully fit his big balls and large dick into the too-small pouch, groaning in discomfort.

Billy exhaled in relief, though his reprieve was short-lived as he took in his reflection. The thong was undeniably tiny, the bright red fabric contrasting sharply against his skin. At the back, the thin strap disappeared entirely between his ass cheeks. The front wasn’t much better; the pouch looked dangerously overstuffed, the material stretched to its limits and appearing as though it could give way at any moment. His bull balls were dangerously close to bursting out of the sides, and his dick pulled the waistband lower at the front, revealing its thick base.

A small, almost shy smile curled his lips as he turned slightly, observing himself from different angles. Billy couldn’t deny he liked how the thong fitted him. It wasn’t something he would wear in public, but it was perfect to show off his incredible ass and the impressive size of his dick and balls. He felt a certain confidence that came with wearing something so daring, and Billy found himself standing a little taller, his posture straightening as he admired the view.

Feeling nervous but confident, Billy gathered his discarded clothes and took a deep breath before opening the bathroom door. He walked back into the living room, his steps cautious as he felt the straps shift slightly with each movement.

Antonio was sprawled out on the couch but immediately sat up straight as Billy entered the room. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he seemed genuinely speechless, his gaze traveling slowly from Billy’s face down to his feet and back up again. “Wow,” Antonio finally breathed out, a slow grin spreading across his face. “You look incredible.”

Billy’s cheeks flushed a deep red as he tried to play it off with a casual shrug. “I feel ridiculous. This thing barely covers anything.”

Antonio stood up, walking over to get a closer look. He circled around Billy slowly, his eyes taking in every detail. “Ridiculous? I’d say impressive. Seriously, you’re pulling this off way better than I expected.”

Billy laughed nervously, his hands twitching at his sides as he resisted the urge to cover himself. “If by pulling it off, you mean barely containing everything, then sure.”

Antonio stood in front of him, his gaze dropping briefly to the strained fabric at the front before returning to meet Billy’s eyes. “Well, I got the smallest size they had, just to make it interesting. I’m surprised your things fit in there at all.”

Billy rolled his eyes, though there was a playful glint in his expression. “Of course, you did get the smallest size. Very funny.”

Antonio walked around Billy again, admiring the plump ass cheeks, fully exposed at the back. He reached gently out and adjusted one of the straps that had twisted slightly on Billy’s butt, his fingers brushing lightly against his skin. “There, that’s better.”

Billy shivered slightly at the touch, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with embarrassment. “Thanks.”

Antonio smiled and approached from behind, wrapping his arms around Billy’s midsection and resting his head on his shoulder. “You know… I haven’t forgotten about our day at the beach,” he whispered, his bulge firmly pressed against Billy’s ass. “I can’t forget a single second of it.”

Billy softly moaned when he felt Antonio’s dick stirring to live against his ass. “I can’t forget it either,” he said as Antonio’s hands caressed his lower abdomen, focusing on the bloated area.

“You’re pretty bloated,” Antonio remarked softly, his fingers rubbing small, soothing circles over the tender area. “Does it hurt?”

Billy glanced down at Antonio’s hand, surprised by the gesture but finding it oddly comforting. “A little tender, but not too bad. It just feels full, I guess.”

Antonio’s brow slightly furrowed as he continued the gentle massage, his touch careful and attentive. “I really think you should see a doctor, Billy. To make sure everything’s okay.”

Billy sighed, leaning into the touch subconsciously. The gentle pressure seemed to ease some of the discomfort, and he felt a sense of calm wash over him. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I’ll make an appointment soon.”

Antonio smiled as his dick hardened against Billy’s ass. “Good. I only want to make sure you feel alright,” he said, his voice soft and playful. “And maybe there’s another way to help you feel better?” He moved his hands lower to rub Billy’s crotch, his fingers tracing over the shape of his soft dick, which immediately came to life.

Billy gasped, feeling his dick hardening and stretching the fabric of the overstuffed pouch even more. “Ho-How?” Billy asked, closing his eyes and enjoying Antonio’s touch.

“I think you know, and I think you want the same,” Antonio said, quickly pulling the front of his short shorts down to let his hard dick out and push it against Billy’s bare ass. “Would you mind if we repeat what we did in the car that day?”

Billy moaned, his body shivering due to Antonio’s touch. His big dick was getting harder by the second, and the thong’s fabric could barely handle it. “I wouldn’t mind. I-I need it, ugh,” he said, feeling his dick stretching the thong to the limit until the fabric finally gave up. With a loud snap, Billy’s dick burst out of the pouch, also revealing his bull balls and making him gasp.

Antonio smiled when he realized what had happened and slowly guided Billy to the couch as the thong fell to the ground. Antonio immediately removed his shorts, and Billy leaned over the couch, exposing his butt in full glory to a highly aroused Antonio, who didn’t hesitate to fit his dick into Billy’s hole. Both guys moaned loudly, enjoying the sensation more than the last time as Antonio pushed his whole dick into his best friend.

Antonio smiled, feeling Billy’s hole squirming in need around his dick. “Fuck! You feel even better than last time. Are you enjoying this as much as me?”

Billy grinned, letting his body adjust to Antonio’s dick. “Yes. I love it. Now, keep going! You made me wear the ridiculous thong; you better fuck me good in exchange,” Billy said as Antonio started thrusting hard, making the moans grow louder.

****

Billy woke up the next morning feeling worse than ever. The constant nausea, the relentless fatigue, the extreme hunger, and the strange bloating—it was all too much. He knew he couldn’t keep dismissing these symptoms. As he stood in front of his bathroom mirror, his hands instinctively went to his bloated abdomen, pressing lightly against the unfamiliar roundness. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he remembered the big load Antonio had pumped into him the night before, which only accentuated the strange bloating.

He had enjoyed his night with Antonio, but Billy knew something wasn’t right with his body and needed answers. Determined to get to the bottom of it, Billy made a doctor’s appointment, hoping it was just some strange bug or stress from the coming school year. However, deep down, a gnawing anxiety whispered that it might be something more.

As he dressed in a loose hoodie and sweatpants—choosing comfort over his usual fitted attire—Billy couldn’t shake the nervousness building inside him. The thought of Antonio briefly crossed his mind again, but Billy pushed it aside to focus on the immediate task at hand. After all, he needed to figure out what was wrong with him before he could worry about anything else. He didn’t know how the recent events would impact his friendship with Antonio, but at the moment, he only needed to get over the strange sickness.

The trip to the doctor’s office was a blur, his mind racing with possibilities. His mind was elsewhere, barely paying attention to his steps. His hands were again in the pockets of his hoodie, absentmindedly caressing his abdomen. When Billy was right outside the clinic, he was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice the tall figure walking toward him until they collided, nearly sending him to the ground. A strong hand grabbed his arm, steadying him before he could fall.

“Whoa, easy there!” A deep voice chuckled. Billy looked up, blinking in surprise at the familiar face smiling down at him, the face of his best friend from school.

“Callum?” Billy stammered, trying to reconcile the man in front of him with the memory of the lanky teenager he had known years ago. The man before him was anything but lanky now.

Callum Gibson had always been tall, but the years had filled him out in ways that were impossible to ignore. Standing at 6’4” and weighing in at a solid 250 pounds of pure muscle, Callum was the epitome of a fitness model. His dark hair was neatly trimmed, and his blue eyes sparkled with an easygoing charm that hadn’t changed a bit. He wore an oversized t-shirt that somehow still clung to his massive chest and shoulders, the fabric straining slightly across his bulging pectorals and large biceps. His jeans, though meant to be loose, hugged his thick legs, unable to hide the sheer size and strength that lay beneath.

“Billy? What a coincidence! It’s been so long,” Callum said with a grin, pulling Billy into a tight hug that made him feel like a child wrapped in the arms of a giant. “I’ve missed you, man!”

Billy couldn’t help but smile despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him. “Callum, wow, you’ve grown,” he said, trying to find the right words as Callum released him from the hug. “You’re huge!”

Callum laughed, a deep, resonant sound. “Yeah, I guess I’ve been hitting the gym pretty hard. But look at you!” He stepped back, his eyes sweeping over Billy with genuine admiration. “You’re looking great too. Butt is as big as always. Damn, man!” Callum winked at Billy, remembering the old times when Callum used to tease Billy about his ass.

Billy blushed, his hand instinctively moving to his hips. “Thanks, I guess,” he mumbled, feeling a bit self-conscious under Callum’s gaze. But there was no denying that Callum’s compliment had an effect on him. For a moment, it was as if the discomfort of the last few days melted away, leaving only the simple pleasure of reconnecting with an old friend.

“What are you doing here?” Billy asked, eager to change the subject.

“Just moved into town a few days ago,” Callum explained. “I’ve been studying abroad, but now I’m back for good. I was getting checked by a doctor. He said I’m perfectly healthy,” Callum said, lifting one arm to flex his big bicep, emphasizing his excellent conditioning.

“Oh, I’m arriving for a schedule,” Billy said, remembering why he was there. “I’ve been a bit sick, so I came to make sure it’s only a bug,” he added, looking down at his abdomen.

“I’m sure you’re perfectly healthy. You look as great as when we played soccer in school,” Callum said, smiling at Billy, who gasped as he admired his friend’s perfect look. “Maybe… What if I wait for you? I’d love to have a coffee or juice and catch up. What do you say?”

Billy hesitated, his mind still reeling due to his sickness. But Callum’s infectious enthusiasm was hard to resist, so he nodded. “Sure, why not? If you don’t mind waiting for me, I’ll gladly join,” he smiled.

As Callum walked with him into the clinic, Billy couldn’t help but admire his friend’s perfect looks. The strong jawline, the piercing blue eyes, the way his muscles bulged beneath his t-shirt—it was hard not to notice. And for the first time, Billy observed Callum in a new light. Maybe it was the recent emotional rollercoaster or the comfort of reconnecting with someone he trusted. But Billy felt a warmth spreading through him as he stared at Callum, and the memories of his encounters with Antonio slowly faded.

...

[n3ssier]

May i request Levi with a civilian reader on a first date ❤️

why of course ! sorry it took a small while to write this, i was brainstorming but then got caught up with extra shifts at work.

levi x reader - first date (set after the events of season 4)

The indistinct chatter of nearby tables would be loud in any other circumstance, but right now all you could hear was the strong silence between you and the raven haired man sitting across from you. You look up from the menu laid open in front of you to see him inspecting his, flipping through the pages intently with a blank expression on his face that you truly wish you could read. Your eyes shift from him to your surroundings, he'd picked a pretty elegant restaurant. The wide range of dishes on the menu, the candle lit at your table, and the well dressed people around you, including him, told you that this was a high-end place. Somewhere you'd never be able to afford on your own as the fairly average life you live could not uphold such a lifestyle, even for just one night.

You had already decided what you wanted to order 5 minutes ago, but had continued to look through the menu as if you were still deciding due to the sheer nervousness to start conversation. You notice Levi shutting his menu and looking up at you, and that is the sign needed for you to shut yours too and make eye contact with him.

"So, uh, how are you?" you manage to say, shifting uncomfortably in the cushioned seat. "Not bad, yourself?" he then responds with, leaning back in his chair and running his right hand through his hair. Your attention is brought to his hand as he does so, and you notice his index and middle finger missing with a scar in place of them down the top of his hand. "yeah I'm doing pretty good, this is a pretty nice restaurant you picked huh?" this was your attempt to make the conversation go somewhere. His eye scans the room as you speak, and he gives a small nod. "Of course. I don't often go out to eat at all, but I would much rather have the piece of mind that we are at a place which is clean and of high value, rather than one of those filthy bars I see other men take women into, just to sit her aside while they drink and make a damn fool of themselves."

As he speaks you notice the white of his right eye, the combination of this, the scars running down his face which disturb his smooth complexion, and the two missing fingers on his right hand strikes curiosity within you that you wish you could detain. "I understand what you mean, I've seen it myself all too much. Uhm, do you mind if I ask what happened to your hand and eye?" Fear and regret begin to take over as you realise this might come off as rude or nosey, but you want to know his story, and what could have possibly put him in the state he's in now.

Levi looks at you with his eyebrows ever so slightly raised and the same blank expression he's worn the whole evening so far, before telling you, "I was caught in an explosion from a thunderspear, but, it's part of a much bigger story that perhaps I should save for another occasion." You didn't know what you expected, but this was still a shock, and guilt began to set in for even asking in the first place. You utter a small "Oh, I'm sorry" before looking down at the table to take a breath and curse yourself mentally before returning your gaze to the handsome man currently giving you his attention. "Don't be. you deserve to know what you're getting yourself into here, but my war is over and I'm done with the fighting." As he speaks you see a hint of relief on his face as he looks over at the tall candle burning at your table. You chime back with "I'm glad, my life's always been a quiet one, which I guess might be for the best even if I find it boring at times."

You send a soft smile his way before as he then follows up with "That's what I'm now looking for, and I believe it's something I could enjoy with you," oh boy, this date might actually go pretty well after all

requests are open btw guys :3