#hi i did this in half an hour before bed because i'm sick of doing flats on the bg of the comic i'm working on

[reginas-toy]

Sick day

Wednesday x Enid

Warnings: none?

Synopsis: Willa gets sick

Brought to you by: Big soup (idk I'm writing about soup a bit)

On with Day two where Wednesday is sick and has a terrible feeling! good reading!

[A/N also, before we begin I should mention that these stories are also showcases for series I might write!! So if you like one please do show your support in the comments and it'll be a series.]

Side A- Wednesday's side

 Wednesday got sick. She never did as a child or a teen, but now she was laying in her bed with barely a voice and not too much will to do anything.

 Thankfully the school year was wrapping up and Crackstone and that whole business was taken care of what felt like ages ago now.

 Enid's scars have been healing along nicely which was a relief for Wednesday, because she saw what they did for the werewolf's less than stellar self-image. Wednesday cursed getting Enid involved in this as much as she was, even if she was grateful for her help. Wednesday's mind rushed with ifs and could have's and should have's but in the back of her mind there was a nagging feeling. Something so terrible and unpleasant that she didn't even want to consider it as an option. After a half hour her mind gave in.

 Enid was, well Enid, probably the best friend she never asked for or deserved, but got. Over the semester Wednesday started feeling more and more bats in her stomach every time she and Enid did something together and it was horrible. Was this love or just a deep care for a friend?

 While she was often really rather good at discerning what her mind needed when it came to love for a friend as opposed to romantic love she didn't know what the hell was happening. To be honest she'd never been in love before (she thought she was the only time she went to summer camp, but came to her senses). And if she was, how would that go? Would she just be another person in the string of unsuccessful relationships for Enid. Supposing that Enid liked girls and supposing that she liked Wednesday which is too much supposing, but would Enid grow weary of Wednesday's weird habits and rituals and ways of showing affection?

 As Wednesday lay in bed, Enid returned from the town.

"Hi, Willa, I'm back, I've got some soup from the Thai place we went to a while back and some medicine and whatever else I could muster up on a short notice to make you feel better!" Enid said as she smiled at Wednesday.

 God damnit of course Enid made sure to take care of me. Willa thought as Enid gestured for Wednesday to sit up so she could take her medicine and have the soup. The soup was surprisingly hot for it being a half-hour old at least take-away. It was really rather nice too if for the fact that she had to be fed it, Enid taking her time and attentively feeding Willa.

 "Now, the medicine, it's nothing much, but it should help with the pain and uhhh it says here you might get a little sleepy drowsy and out of it." And with another spoonful Enid's extensive procedures were over. Not for it to sound like a good thing, Wednesday rather liked all the attention Enid was giving, but that was how friends acted wasn't it?

 With all those thoughts swirling around in her head she fell asleep for a good five hours dreaming of all sorts of stuff. Horrible stuff like Enid leaving and being hurt and other more…, well more touchy stuff with them in one bed. Even with all those different dreams it seemed like five minutes when Wednesday woke up.

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

Side B- Enid's side

 Willa was sick and that was not something Enid wanted to see. Not because she was afraid of that stuff or something it was more seeing Wednesday lying about and unable to do anything, of it all that was bothering her. Well, luckily for both of them, Enid grew up with brothers that got sick quite a lot so she knew more or less what to do.  That part was easy, howeverrrr the part where she was madly in love with the goth was harder. It had been months at this point of her hiding it from her roommate out of… fear? Mostly a fear of rejection, cause lately her life was well, a lot. Her mother wasn't the most supportive and Wednesday almost dying (or maybe actually dying for a bit? Enid wasn't entirely sure as Willa didn't talk much about that night). She didn't know if she could take a rejection from Willa. Surely Willa didn’t even like girls like that, cause like what are the chances of two queers being put in the same room and no, Divina and Yoko don't count, cause they chose to be like that (Even if it was kinda weird they allowed it with how strict schools are about relationships). And EVEN if she was what were the chances that the queen of emo alt goth Addams would like a bubbly and colourful person like Enid. Enid wasn't major into maths, but not great she thought, ANYWAY, getting back to their room and helping Wednesday, that was what she should be focusing on.

 As she entered their room, Willa's eye's opened, which  was a rare sight, cause they rarely ever closed. Wednesday looked a little scared and even more terribly her face looked almost of a normal human shade. Enid wanted to hold her little bat tight in her arms and tell her sweet nothings late into the night, buuuuttt she reminded herself, they weren't that close, also little bat? fuck was she deeply in the deep end.

 After the soup and medicine Willa's eyes seemed to calm down as she fell asleep, Enid going over to her side of the room and scrolling on her phone as she often did. She wasn't proud of it, but it got her through the day.

 After a good few tens of minutes Enid heard Willa muttering something in her sleep. She couldn't quite make out what it was, but it didn't sound too pleasant, but then with Willa you never know, maybe it's unicorns and rainbows.

 A few moments later Wednesday's mumbles became more intelligible, something along the lines of '… and ever since that day my dear Enid I have loved you'

 Fuck, she was in for it this time.

To be continued

Hello dear reader, coming to you from like a day in the past!  Soooo I wanted to write seven stories to release between Wednesday the 30th and Wednesday the 6th, but very soon I understood that seven was a lot so three then! That's manageable to do in like a month, surely! It would be if I wasn't away for half of it! So now, I'm writing like I've never before! This was half written for months and I finished it today so yay, 2/3 done.    Hope you liked this sweeter story which followed as I said one of the more depraved I have personally written. And as with the last do tell me if you wanna see a series from this fic!!! see u Wednesday with a story yet unkown

[golyadkin]

it's probably fine. it's probably happened before.

[parfaitblogs]

making the bed ❀ s. reid x reader

in which your night crumbles around you, and spencer is happy to pick up the pieces. 

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: hurt/comfort  tags: established relationship. (prior) alcohol consumption. reader is semi-drunk (but sobers up). post drinking depression. healthy alcohol information/discussion 🫡 word count: 2.1k a/n: do not read too much into this for you will begin to question why i still enjoy going clubbing. (joke...) 😄 plsss tell me if u liked this or even if u didnt thank u i love uuuuuu

Alcohol is a depressant. 

You remembered the God awful lecture your boyfriend had given you when you woke up one Sunday morning with this feeling of existential dread, and nothing to pin it to. A ramble about how alcohol can temporarily increase the body's production of dopamine and serotonin when entering, causing a worse crash of both chemicals when it leaves. Leaving you, evidently, depressed and anxious after a big night. 

You knew that. 

You also knew how quick you were to seclude within your mind when you were with people. Too many drinks and not enough social interaction tended to lead to your own isolation, sitting on the outer edge of the booth, absentmindedly playing with the charm on the end of your phone. 

The room no longer spun the way it had an hour ago. You missed when it spun. When it spun, you weren't thinking about how little you had to contribute to the conversations your friends were having. You weren't tallying up how many drinks you had already drank, then falling flat when you realised you couldn't remember, and that was a thought more horrifying than knowing it was over ten. You were fun, when the room was a carousel. 

Now, it's simply overwhelming. Loud chattering from both your table, and the surrounding ones. Clinking of glasses at the bar. A sports game on the television across the room. Balls on a pool table being dispersed for the first time in a game. Dancing feet. Music. People. So many fucking people.

Your phone buzzes against the table, and you pick it up before any of your friends could turn their heads to see where the vibrations were coming from. You figured they were too drunk to conclude it was you, anyways. Or to care. 

Spencer had texted you fifteen minutes ago to check in on you, and though it wasn't long ago, you not responding immediately in a flurry of half strung together sentences and emojis was worrying for him. That was probably why his name was now lighting up your screen, a funny photo of him mid-bite of an ice cream as his contact photo, enlarged. 

You hadn't responded for no reason other than the fact that you had no will to. Which should've been a big enough red flag to yourself that you should text him, and you should ask if he can pick you up. Thankfully, he loved to prove how well he could read you, and he was calling you anyways. 

"Hi," you mumble into the phone, angling your body away from your friends, hand held up to your other ear to block out some of the noise the best you could. 

"Hi," he parrots back to you. "You okay?"

An automatic yes manifests on your tongue, but you're quick enough to keep it to yourself before you can lie to him. Instead, you let out a quiet, "No."

He seems to have expected that answer, for he leaves no silence in between your admission and his response. "What can I do to help?" He also seems to be expecting your hesitance at asking him for anything that would require him to move, because he adds, "I can pick you up. Do you want me to pick you up?"

"Yes. Please?"

"I'm already leaving," he tells you, and you can hear his shoes against the wooden floor of his apartment to confirm that. "Did something happen? Are you safe?"

"No, nothing happened. I'm safe," you reassure him. "I started feeling sick so I stopped drinking an hour ago. Now I'm just sad."

"You remember what I told you about it being a depressant?"

"Vividly," you mutter, and while it isn't meant to be funny, you hear him huff a short laugh anyways. It makes you feel a little better. 

"It's important to know," he defends. "I'm sorry I shared important information with you."

"Mm."

Your lack of a verbal response was expected, but he still hated the sound of it regardless. You heard him sigh. "I have to hang up now. I'll be there in forty minutes. Will you be okay?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I love you."

"Love you too."

No matter how much time had passed, your head lifted every time the door — that your group was so conveniently close to — opened, letting in a rush of cool air and sobering you up with every hit of it. 

True to his word, Spencer was entering the bar after forty minutes, face scrunching up at the sudden onslaught of noises and visual stimuli. Same boat as you, only he had not a drop of alcohol in his body. At least you weren't crazy about it being overstimulating. 

"This is why I don't go to bars," he says once he's approached your booth, and you had stood up next to you, his hand finding an automatic place on your waist. 

"It's usually not this bad," you tell him, but he decides not to ask you anything else upon hearing just how exhausted your voice sounds. You're grateful for that.

The goodbye to your friends is quick, Spencer rattling off a lie about him needing you home for he had work early the next morning, and you only had one key to the apartment. Even the friends who knew that wasn't the case didn't comment on it, and you made a pointless mental note to thank them for it later. You knew you wouldn't. 

The drive home was even faster. Silence, aside from the rush of the wind from your slightly cracked window as Spencer drove, that helped the sick feeling in your stomach from the alcohol you had consumed. 

It didn't seem to help the hollowness of your chest, though.

You weren't sure if anything would, really. A chemical imbalance in your brain — even one as temporary as the deflation from being drunk — was hard to fix without medication. It would go away, yes. But then you would make the mistake of drinking once more, and you would find yourself back in this brain peeling predicament. 

You showered alone. Despite Spencer's offer to join you, and your own personal desire for him to be there with you. It didn't help your fogged mind at all, and you were exiting the bathroom feeling like you had retreated further into your bones. Every movement felt clunky, your skin a heavy coat to your skeleton, restricting your movement down to short shuffles and barely lifted arm movements. 

He was reading when you reentered your bedroom, and you've never seen him put a book and his glasses back on his bedside table faster. He looked visibly tired. Keeping himself awake a seemingly difficult struggle, that you could feel your body heading towards to as well. 

"Hey," he says as you climb into the bed, and he's very patient as you figure out what position you want your bodies in. Head on his chest, but next to him, you had decided on, and his fingers entangled into your hair.

"Hi," you mumble, staring up at the ceiling, counting brush strokes of the paint, as if it were possible to.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

You huff at the phrase, tilting your head upwards so your eyes could land on him. "Do you have a penny?"

He pauses, then angles his head closer towards yours. "Okay, kiss for your thoughts?"

"That'll just distract me."

"Is that what you want?"

You should say no. Arguably the last thing you should be doing when you're sad is let intimacy with your boyfriend distract you. But then again, you're not the best advocate for healthy coping mechanisms anyways. 

"Maybe."

"Maybe?" he muses, and his lips brush against yours. Your heart flutters. 

"I don't really know what I want," you settle on telling him, honestly. "I want my brain to shut up."

His body deflates beneath you, and you feel guilt chip away up your spine at the killing of the less depressing atmosphere. 

"Sorry," you mumble.

"No. It's good. Be honest with me," he reassures you, quietly. His fingers tap at your scalp, "What's going on up here?"

"I'll cry if I try to verbalise it."

"Crying's good for you, you know," he hums.

"I'm pretty sure I still have eyeliner in my waterline. I'll just stain your sheets," you retort. 

"Yeah, probably. That's fine."

You're silent for a few moments, gathering your thoughts in your brain the best you could despite yourself, before you sit up, his hand dropping to the bed beside you.

"I just don't like being... here? Out? I don't know. I'm just really sick of being sad every time I drink. Is there something wrong with me? Did you get sad whenever you drank? Everyone else I know loves going out for drinks because they have fun and they're giggly drunks, or they're clingy drunks. And if I drink too much then I'm a fucking sad drunk, and I'm the only person I know that gets that way. I want to be normal."

He's silent your entire rant, and then some, waiting for your heaving chest to slow, having caught the few tears that slipped down your cheeks. You were grateful — you needed that time.

He reaches a hand out, and you let him tug you back down to the bed, slotting your body atop his own, just so he could see you properly. 

"To answer your question, no, I didn't get sad when I drank," he says, brushing your hair out of your face, before his hands rest on either side of your face. "But I wasn't really happy, either. I just talked more."

"You already talk a lot."

His lips twitch. "I do. Double whatever you think my worst is, and that was me drunk. Focus on the part where I said I wasn't a happy drunk, please."

"But you weren't sad. So there is something wrong with me."

"No, there's not. Alcohol is a��depressant," he punctuates his words with a kiss to your nose, which you gratefully accept despite your emotions. "Are you willing to give up alcohol as a whole?" 

"My friends will think I'm boring, then."

He hesitates in his response, but ultimately settles on asking, "Do you think I'm boring because I don't drink?"

"No. Obviously not. And you have a real reason for not drinking, so—"

"—and being sad isn't a real reason to not drink?"

Taken aback by his sudden sternness, you go quiet, breath hitching within your throat. He was right, ultimately. No reason is reason enough. You knew that. 

Sensing your discomfort at his tone, he expels a breath of air and lowers his hands down to your hips. His voice drops to something a little less harsh, as he murmurs, "You are allowed to not want to drink alcohol if you don't like the way it makes you feel. If your friends think you're boring for that, then they're not worth it."

You silently nod your head, beginning to curse your emotional regulators. For while you had kept your tears at bay for the vast majority of this conversation, it seemed all it took was the gentle rubbing of circles onto your hip bones, and a fact checked piece of life advice from your boyfriend to make you cry. 

"Sorry," you sniffle, dropping your head to the crook of his neck to hide your newly tear stricken face. 

"Crying's good for you," he repeats his earlier words, and feels you nod your head. "You don't have to decide tonight. I'd encourage you not to, actually. You're technically still intoxicated."

"I'm sober," you protest, weakly. 

"Okay, honey." He's only agreeing with you to wane any further argument. "I don't think your friends will think you're boring, though, if that's any help."

"I don't think they will either."

He nods his head, and you're relaxing against him a little more. 

"Are you just trying to not be the only loser who doesn't drink?" you mumble, voice muffled by his skin.

"You've caught me."

He relishes in the laugh that leaves your lips, and he places the gentlest of kisses on the side of your head, which prompts you to lift it to look at him again. 

"You're not a loser for not drinking," you say, and his lips pull into a smile. 

He leans his head up, brushing his lips against yours, despite the mix of mint toothpaste and alcohol on your tongue. "I know. You wouldn't be either."

"I know."

your reblogs and replies are always appreciated ♡

[navybrat817]

Give Me One More

Pairing: Soft!Dark Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You don't need Bucky. He's going to prove you wrong. Over and over and over...

Word Count: Over 3.7k

Warnings: DUBCON to be safe, explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, masturbation, established and slightly toxic relationship, pet names, possessive behavior, family drama, betrayal, threats (not against reader), loose backstory, slight feels (it's me, okay?), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit mean, okay?).

A/N: I spoke about prisoner!Bucky ages back and I couldn't let this go. Especially not when I'm looking at that beautiful edit by the more beautiful @nixakimbo! ❤️Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own (but thanks to @whisperlullaby for discussing this man with me!). Divider by the talented @saradika. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You pushed the curtain aside to look out the bedroom window, the clouds dark and thick in the sky. Your home used to be your safe haven, a place of comfort, and all you wanted to do now was escape from your prison of sorts. Not the kind of place your boyfriend, Bucky, spent time in. The bars that kept you in couldn't be seen by the naked eye.

“Can't stay in there all day,” Bucky said from the hall, his deep voice reminding you that you weren't alone.

You’d never be alone again.

“Yes, I can,” you called back. You had been in your bedroom for well over an hour since you snapped at him and left him alone in the living room. If staying in there meant avoiding him, you were fine with that.

You half expected him to stomp down the hall, but he only said, “You’re being a fucking brat.”

Blood rushed to your cheeks as anger flowed through you. “Leave me alone, asshole!” You shouted, feeling every bit like the brat he said you were.

You weren’t sure what set you off today. It could've been because you were still angry that Bucky used you. How long did it take for an empire to fall? In your case, six months.

Half a year ago, Bucky Barnes bumped into you at your favorite coffee shop. Literally. He was large, built like a powerhouse, but his grip that kept you from falling was so gentle. One look in his cerulean eyes and you were a goner. He easily charmed his way into your life and bed. He treated you like a princess, better than any boyfriend before, and you naively believed it was fate that brought you together.

You should’ve known it wasn't the beginning of a happy new chapter in your story. It was a clock winding down to your doom. More specifically, your father’s doom. Because Bucky wanted to destroy the man who helped land him in jail.

The White Wolf, a nickname for Bucky you recently learned about, wasn't a good man. Far from it and far from being a reformed criminal. He took it personally that your dad got him put behind bars for a short time. So he tore his life apart. Took his job away. Urged his friends to abandon or turn on him. Got him put in jail. Bucky even rubbed it in his face that he fucked his daughter. All in six months.

It would almost be impressive if you weren't the one living with the aftermath.

Had your dad known exactly who you were seeing, he may have tried to stop you.

“Asshole,” you muttered.

What Bucky didn't plan on was falling for you or so he said. You were, apparently, his chance at happiness. Because of that, he wouldn't let you go. And he expected you to just forgive him and move forward.

How could you forgive him?

He promised he’d hunt you down if you tried to leave him. You naturally tried and didn't get very far. The sick part was how much you enjoyed him chasing after you and bringing you back. After he fucked you where he found you.

As if he read your mind, he called out, “I know you're frustrated. Bet if you sit on my cock you'll feel better.”

Your cheeks flamed, your panties damp. Damn him for still arousing you with so little words. “Go fuck yourself.”

That actually wasn't a bad idea. He was right. You were frustrated and itching to get out of your own skin. Maybe if you got yourself off, you’d feel a little better. Not happy, but better.

“I don't need him,” you said.

That was what you told yourself as you stripped down and got on the bed. But as you ran your hands along your breasts, gasping as you moved one hand lower, it didn't feel right. The normal fire within you didn't burn. Didn't even a flicker. A raw ache instead outweighed the pleasure you tried to give yourself.

“Damn it,” you muttered.

You heard Bucky’s dark chuckle from the doorway and made the mistake of looking his way. You weren't sure how long he'd been standing there, but his cock was free from the confines of his pants and he lost his shirt at some point, too. He didn't attempt to hide the array of scars and tattoos that littered his torso. Ones you traced with your fingers and tongue more times than you could count. Back when you weren't a pawn in his game.

But if you really were a pawn, why did he have your name tattooed over his chest?

“Looks like you need a hand,” he said, brushing back his long hair as his eyes moved along your body from head to toe.

You ignored your racing heart as you said through your teeth, “Go away.”

He tore your life apart like a tornado, leaving destruction where there was once calm and beauty. Instead of letting you pick up the pieces, he continued to wreck everything around you. He broke you, too, but you were also the only thing he put back together.

The smirk he gave you was one you used to adore. “What’s wrong, princess? Still mad at me?”

You scoffed. Was he serious? “Yes, I’m fucking mad at you.”

“Still mad about the past? Or is it because you can't get out of your own head long enough to make yourself come?” He taunted, slowly stroking his thick cock. “Did you ever actually get yourself off before me? Or did you not know what an orgasm was until I gave you one?”

You watched with a lustful gaze as his hand moved up and down, your eyes not leaving the sight as you desperately tried to get some sort of relief. “I had plenty before you showed up,” you hissed, sliding a finger into your tight hole.

“You know, all you have to do is admit that I'm right: That I've ruined you and all you can think about is how good it feels when I'm fucking you. Admit it and I’ll get you off.”

Pushing another finger inside yourself, you refused to admit that he was telling the truth. Nothing felt as good as he did. And that was the problem, wasn't it? You shouldn't want or need him. Not after everything he had done to your family.

He groaned as he watched your fingers sink in. “You're so pathetic laying there. My pretty little slut wants to prove the impossible. Just wants to prove that she doesn't need me when we both know that's a fucking lie,” he grunted as his cock twitched, making you clench in want despite your anger at his words. “Better hurry up and say it. Otherwise I'm going to come all over you and you're going to be left begging to come and not get off at all.”

You whined as a tear fell from your eye. “You're an asshole. The lowest of the low.”

He chuckled as he brushed his thumb along the tip, watching as your eyes followed the motion. “Now you're just trying to hurt my feelings and that's mean, princess. That isn't you. I'm the mean one in this relationship.”

Your fingers froze as you narrowed your eyes. “Relationship? Don't you mean your prisoner?”

Your breath caught in your throat when he smirked, something darker than before. “You think you're a prisoner? You have no fucking idea. I’ve been to prison. This is a fucking walk in the park,” he said, pouring more salt in the open wound when he added, “And your dad knows all about prison now, doesn't he?”

You choked on your next breath. “How dare-”

“Relationship, prisoner, my girl. You're still fucking mine,” he snarled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. “And I'm still right. So just say it. Tell me you need my cock and I'll get you off. Fuck that pretty pussy so good you cry for me. Won't even make you apologize for repeatedly calling me an asshole.”

“I wish I never met you,” you blurted out.

Guilt churned in your stomach at the hurt in his eyes. Why did you still care after what he did? Why did he matter to you? “You don't mean that,” he whispered before he blinked, ice in his gaze. “You’re just being a fucking brat.”

You let out a small scream of frustration when you removed your fingers and reached for your side drawer where you kept your vibrator. If Bucky was going to keep being an asshole who wouldn't get you off, your toy would. But he didn't let you get very far. Not when he was on you in a flash, throwing the toy far behind him and pinning your wrists above your head.

His breathing was almost as heavy as yours.

“Oh no, princess. You're so confident you can come without me then that must mean you don't need any help at all coming,” he smirked, gripping your wrists tighter as you squirmed beneath him. You didn't dare look down when his cock brushed against your skin. “It's cute that you think you're stronger than I am. That sexual frustration must really be fucking with your head. I can fix that.”

“You're fucking sick. I don't… I… I don't need you,” you said, not having to see your eyes to know your pupils were blown with lust. Your tongue darted out to lick bottom lip before your gaze settled on his, challenging. “You need me more than I need you. What was it you said? That I was the best pussy you ever had? And you’d be happy to keep your cock in me all day every day?”

“Just like my cock is the best you ever had.”

You opened your legs a bit more when he clenched his jaw. “And you don't want to finish on me. You want to be in me. If it were any other guy, he'd-”

He growled when he grabbed your chin. It was a reminder of just how strong he was and how he could hurt you if he wanted to. “There are no other guys. Do you fucking hear me?”

It was your turn to smirk. Bucky was a lot of things, but he never strayed. Not once. He would forever be faithful. “You sure about that? Maybe I can't relax right now, but if you won't fuck me I’m sure I can find someone who-”

He flipped you on your stomach and gripped the back of your neck before you could finish that statement. “If you think I wouldn’t kill any guy who touches you, you’re out of your fucking mind. Keep pushing me, sweetheart. See what happens.”

You bit back a moan at the gravel in his voice as you turned your head to the side, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. It was dangerous to poke the bear, but you were past the point of caring. Especially when fury looked beautiful on him. “What's wrong, Bucky? Don't like the taste of your own medicine?”

He leaned down, his breath harsh against your ear. “I prefer the taste of your pussy. Always so good for me. You wanna hear that I need you? Fine. I fucking need you,” he rasped, biting at your earlobe. “Happy?”

“And that you’re sorry?”

“For hurting you? Yes,” he whispered, nosing along your neck. “Never meant to hurt you.”

You shuddered, almost delirious from needing to come. And the fact that he admitted that he needed you. That he was sorry for hurting you. But you weren't ready to play nice. “I'll be happier when you finally decide to fuck me, but you're just a fucking asshole, aren't you?”

He let out a slow breath. “Yeah, I'm a fucking asshole.” He nipped your earlobe roughly again in retaliation before settling between your legs and teasingly brushing the tip of his cock along your folds. “And I'll fuck you when you say you need me, too.”

You tried to push back to take him in, but he kept a firm hold on your hips. You tried to wiggle out of it, but it only brought you frustration as you groaned. “If you're really going to make me say it, don't hold your breath. You can't threaten me, Bucky. You're all talk. And guess what?” You said, smiling sweetly. “I can find another guy to fuck me better than you can.”

You couldn’t see the thunderous look in his eyes, but you heard the low and menacing chuckle in his throat. It sent chills down your spine. Maybe you pushed too far this time, but you didn’t care. He deserved it and worse.

“You're trying to piss me off and I want you to remember that you pushed me to this,” he said more to himself than you before sheathing you in one hard thrust, your mouth falling open in a cry at his sudden intrusion. “Hope you enjoy the bed since you won't even be able to walk out of this room.”

You stared at the wall, your eyes unseeing as Bucky tore you apart. Seconds passed. Minutes. Hours. The sound of his grunts from behind you filled your ears, along with the brutal slap of skin-on-skin. Your body burned, the overwhelming stretch from his cock making you lose sense of yourself. You told yourself he’d finish fucking you soon, but that felt like ages ago.

You also told yourself there was no way you’d have another orgasm, but he proved you wrong. Climax after climax, your release practically flooded around him. At this rate, you really wouldn't be able to get out of bed.

“Bucky,” you gasped, trying to grip the sheets for purchase as he pulled out and slammed back into you. “Please…”

You were boneless, exhausted, and he just kept going. “Oh, no, princess. You wanted to get off.”

Tears of ecstasy streamed down your cheeks, whimpering when you felt yourself on the cusp of another orgasm. How was that possible? How many had he given you? “Bucky, I…” you moaned as you clenched around his cock again.

He cooed, a taunting sound when you choked on a sob. “So good, but I want another.”

“I don't… ” Your eyes rolled back, your head spinning. “I can't.”

You’d seriously lost count at that point how many times you’d come. And your whimper didn't stop Bucky from mockingly cooing again. “Aww, you don't think you can? My poor little fuck doll can still talk which means she hasn't had enough yet. This pussy is so fucking wet for me, so swollen,” he taunted, reaching underneath you and flicking your overstimulated clit as a choked moan escaped you, your walls tightening around him once again. “See? Your greedy little cunt can't get enough of me.”

Why did your body need him so badly? “I can't…” you whined as he licked one of your tears away, seemingly unbothered by the sheen of sweat on your face.

“You think anyone else can do this? Work your body up like this over and over again?” He grunted against your cheek. Your eyes squeezed shut at his harsh panting, his pace not slowing. “All you had to do was say that you need me. But no. You just had to be a fucking brat.”

You practically wailed as you teetered on the edge of another orgasm. “I-I need you. Just you, Bucky,” you said. At least, you thought you said it. You had a tough time stringing any thoughts together with his cock splitting you open.

But his thrusts don’t slow. They were just as relentless as before. “Oh, no. You had your chance to say it,” he snarled, leaning up to pull your hips back against his. “And my pussy is telling me all I need to know. So just lay there and give me another.”

The pleasure bordered on the edge of pain as a sob escaped. There was no possible way you could come again. As much as you thought you couldn’t take it, your body tensed. You still craved him and wanted to give him one more. So you did. You shattered. It was almost too easy that he managed to pull another orgasm from your pliable body.

Or maybe you were just easy for him.

Bucky smacked your ass hard enough to make you cry out, his hand kneading the flesh with a delighted groan. “Fuck, each one is better than the last, princess. You want me to fill you up huh? You wanna feel me dripping from you?” He chuckled darkly, finally slowing down as you let out another sob. He shushed you before he put a hand on the back of your neck and kept you down. “I’m gonna fill you up and you’re gonna take it. Then, I'm gonna lick you clean until I'm satisfied.”

“No…”

He gave you one more smack for good measure when you made a sound of protest. “C'mon, princess. Beg for me to fill you up. If you can talk.”

You didn’t know if you could. You were practically a drooling mess as he drove in as deep as he can go. “Pl… Pl… Bu…” you tried to moan, another tear falling as he shushed you again.

“Got you cockdrunk, didn't I? Need to be pumped full? Then let me give you every. Fucking. Drop.”

A tired moan came out when he filled you up, giving a few slow thrusts as he finished. Your body trembled beneath him, a whiplash of chills and heat. You barely registered him pulling out before he flipped you onto your back. Glassy and unfocused eyes. Makeup smeared all your face. Tears stains on your cheeks. You must’ve looked quite the sight.

He relished in ruining you.

And the beautiful bastard didn’t even look like he broke a sweat.

“Should I call you a dog? You’re drooling, princess,” he smirked. You didn’t have it in you to argue as his eyes drifted down to your pussy. It was still twitching and leaking with your mixed release. He licked his lips as he slid down your body more to fully take in the sight. “And you look good enough to eat, so I think that's just what I'll do.”

“What…” you gasped. He couldn't. Not after all that.

You whimpered as you tried to push him away with a tired hand, but he grabbed your wrists with a tsk. “No, no, no, sweetheart. You keep your hands to yourself. I told you I wasn't done with you and it's rude to keep a man from his meal.”

You were still floating from the multiple orgasms he gave you when he took his first lick. Your shivers picked up again and he groaned at your taste before diving in. Any strength you had to try to push him away depleted immediately, even with how sensitive your walls felt. You couldn't stop him.

You’d never be able to stop him.

After a minute, your eyes widened when you felt him build you up again. “No,” you moaned, but the sight of him between your legs, eating you like he was starving, was too much.

He just hummed against you. "Give. Me. One. More.”

Your back arched when his lips latched onto your clit, forcing the orgasm from your worn out body. You weren’t sure if you made a sound, but you trembled as your release went on for what seemed like forever. Bucky’s tongue lapped it all up, humming before he sat back and looked at your wrecked form again. He made a show of licking the shine from his lips and looked just as proud as ruining you with his tongue the way he did with his cock.

“If you ever try to threaten me with another man or refuse to admit you want me again, I'll make sure to tie you to this bed for a week and refuse to let you come even if you beg for it. And I shouldn’t have to mention what else I can do. Do you understand?”

You trembled, knowing exactly what Bucky was capable of. While he never laid a hand on you to inflict pain, you knew the damage he did to others. Like the bodies buried and cold in the ground because of him. Not to mention the connections he still had at the prison. All he had to do was say the word and that would be the true end of your dad.

With unfocused and teary eyes, you gave him a nod. “Yes, Sir,” you whispered.

“Now tell me you love me and that you’re sorry,” he ordered.

A tear slid from the corner of your eye. “…Love you. I’m sorry.”

His smile was tender and for a second you forgot about everything else. “That’s my good girl,” he praised, your heart betraying you like your body did when he kissed your lips. “And I love you, too.”

You whined as he left your line of sight, but he came back almost right away to sit beside you, the bed dipping under his weight. “Drink it, princess,” he urged, his voice gentler than before he helped you take a sip of water. He even smiled again when he wiped another tear of yours away. “We can go back to the way it was before, you know. When you were blissfully unaware and we just quickly fell in love.”

The pain in your heart came and went as your breathing evened. You wished you could go back to innocent movie nights and meals. To waking up beside him with a smile on your face. To making love so passionate that you believed you were made for each other. There was no changing anything or going back. You could only move forward with him by your side.

Bucky sighed when you didn't say anything. “I know I’m a piece of shit, but I won't stop loving you. And I think you learned your lesson.”

You blinked a little as you took another sip, on the verge of passing out.

“You’re mine and I’m never letting you go,” he whispered, brushing the gentlest of kisses against the top of your head. “Don’t you ever fucking forget that.”

So... I know he isn't all good, but I had fun writing this and I hope you lovelies enjoyed it! Would love to hear your thoughts and maybe I'll expand on this? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[dreamtheatre]

how do you think your favorite doctor(s) would act when they're sick or injured and their companion is caring for them? does that make any sense lol

a/n ooo I have ideas for this one!

Pairing: 10/11/12 Doctors x GN!Reader Fandom: Doctor Who Genre: headcannons Word Count: 815 Warnings: slight mentions of injuries

10th Doctor

"what!?"

he would deny needing help, but with enough pleading and puppy-dog-eyes you would eventually get him to settle down enough to let you stop him from going on an adventure

"i'm fine!"

"you got stabbed by a half-platypus-half-jaguar-half-whatever-the-hell-that-thing-was alien on a jungle planet, doctor. you're not fine."

you would try to get him to stay in bed, but whenever you left his room for more than a minute you'd return to find him either jumping up and down on the bed or running around the TARDIS halls.

"i can't just sit around doing nothing all day!" although when you were around in his room he found it fine to sit around.

eventually, you and the TARDIS ganged up on him and the TARDIS locked the door to his room, only opening it when you wanted to leave.

the TARDIS also moved your things to his bedroom so that you could make sure he didn't do anything silly while his injury was being healed, and when his wound had finally healed, both you and the time lord came to a silent mutual agreement that your things wouldn't be moving back.

11th Doctor

like his previous regeneration, he would be in denial that he had any sort of injury whatsoever, even after seeing the results from the TARDIS scan.

you and the TARDIS had to force him away from the console room into his bedroom.

when you lounged around the TARDIS for the next couple of hours, you heard him banging at his door (which the TARDIS had locked) and he only stopped when you finally opened the door for him.

"...yes?"

there would be silence before he spoke meekly. "if you're going to force me in here... at least keep me company?" you weren't exactly complaining.

for the next couple of days, you would help the timelord change his bandages with the assistance of the TARDIS and bring food to him (three whole days of endless requests of jammie dodgers and fish fingers and custard... the only reason you coped was because it was the doctor asking).

he would 100% seek any form of physical contact with you, if you were okay with that. he would lay his head on your shoulder while you watched your favourite TV show. not his, since he stated he didn't have one (he did, but he wanted to watch whatever you wanted to watch). he would fall asleep with his head in your lap as you read whatever book the TARDIS gave you aloud to him.

after he recovered, he would remember all the things you let slip during your conversations with him. your favourite place that you had travelled to with him so far (he would take you back), your favourite foods and drinks, and any place you wanted to go. whatever you asked, the doctor would gladly give to you.

12th Doctor

this doctor would try endlessly to convince you that he's just fine

he's a time lord, after all, a simple, common human cold would not affect him! (that's what he kept telling himself, choosing to ignore the constant coughs and sniffles that escaped from him)

when you ask him if he's alright when you witness him fall asleep for the first time (the doctor... sleeping! you never thought you'd see this day), he waves you off and takes you on an adventure

little did he know that that adventure would end in you dragging him back to the TARDIS after he offended some kind of turtle-human alien hybrid race and was too sick to defend the two of you

after that, the doctor continues to grumble and complain when you insist on not going on any adventures for a while (he secretly is grateful, but he'd never tell you that)

you'd find him asleep in the most random places - on the floor of the console room, in the library... etc

noticing how he's intentionally ignoring your asks to help him, you and the TARDIS work together to find little ways to make him feel better.

you prepare tea in the kitchen and get the TARDIS to send it to his room for him with a small note along the lines of "get better soon!" from you. you make him the comfort meal the two of you found together when you travelled. you send him new books to read and sheet music to play on his guitar

in his absence (he refuses to let you in his room to see him in such a weak state), you find a new guitar appear in your room and you start to teach yourself how to play. you learn a few basic chords and begin to build up your skills until one day, you notice someone standing behind you.

"doctor?"

"yes?"

"are you okay now?"

"yes."

there would be a silent pause before the doctor offered tentatively to teach you how to play the guitar properly, and only a short pause before you agreed.

the doctor would never admit that it was him who gifted you the guitar, though

end xx dreamtheatre requests are open! .

[azrielbrainrot]

"memorising their favourite things and treating them when they have a bad day" with azriel or cassian please 😊

A Good Day

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,1k

A/N: I ended up choosing Azriel because I'm extremely biased. I hope you enjoy and thank you for sending it in!

From sleeping in and being late for work to getting a stain on your new shirt over lunch, today hasn't been a good day. The gloomy weather didn't help either, you were always partial to the rain, there really wasn't a best feeling than snuggling into your bed with a good book and the sound of the rain lightly hitting your window, but today's rain was too heavy and it was too cold, making it hard to be outside, and of course with your luck today was precisely the day Rhys needed you to check on several businesses in Velaris, keeping you out for most of the day.

You had gotten home a couple of hours ago and had since taken a long warm bath, but your feet were still frozen and your head still aches. You had barely had a second to yourself since you woke up startled by how late it was and it was all taking a toll on you. It had truly not been your day. You should just go to bed early and rest, hoping tomorrow the sky would clear and you could take it easier.

A soft knock at your bedroom door brings you out of your thoughts, quickly putting on a robe over your nightgown before opening it to reveal Azriel, a crease manifesting between his brows as he takes you in.

“Hard day?”

You simply let out a heavy sigh, opening the door wider for him to come in and walking back to sit at the end of your bed. His shadows were already scattering around the room as he closed the door, some reaching for you, always stopping short of touching you lest Azriel reprimanded them for acting on their own. You take the opportunity to study him while he stands in front of you, his hazel eyes searching the room, a spy's habit you suppose.

Azriel had been out all day as well, you heard him tell Rhys that he would be following up on some leads on the other side of the court, - where you were pretty sure it was snowing, - but no one would have guessed. The bastard looked as perfect as he always did, there wasn't a hair out of place and he wasn't even a little wet from the rain.

His eyes catch yours as you take him in, and you don't have it in you to look away, letting his eyes burn into yours. You didn't have the chance to do it often, it was a shame really, his eyes were achingly beautiful, as was the rest of him.

“Are you sick?” His voice startles you for a moment, forgetting that the world kept spinning as you got lost in the hazel. He had moved closer without you noticing, you now had to crane your neck all the way to keep eye contact. When you still don't answer him, he reaches out a hand, carefully placing it on your forehead, feeling for a change in temperature. “Just tired?”

“Do I look that bad?”

If you even looked half as exhausted and out of it as you felt, it couldn't be a pretty sight. For some reason you were also finding it hard to focus on anything but him; how warm his hand had felt against your skin, the attentiveness in his eyes despite the hint of amusement also present.

“You look beautiful,” he muses, a small smile growing on his lips.

“When have you become such a sweet talker, shadowsinger?”

“Just telling the truth.”

You let out a small hum, not knowing what else to say. It didn't sound like he was lying or teasing you, but you also knew beautiful was too generous for your current state. There was also no reason for him to be complimenting you out of nowhere, was there?

Luckily, a few shadows gather in his hand, saving you from trying to figure out how to respond. It doesn't take long for a box of pastries to manifest before your eyes, the sweet smell taking some of your edge off instantly. You had always found it fascinating how he could carry anything within them, even more when you were the one hiding there with him.

Azriel places the box in your hands, watching you open it and gape at the inside with thinly veiled amusement.

“What's this?”

“Chocolate muffins from the bakery by the Sidra,” he explains even though you could see for yourself. “They're your favorite, right?”

You nod up at him, your eyes darting between his and the open box sitting on your lap, filled with delicious muffins, the ones that are extremely hard to get since they always sell out early.

“Why did you get them?”

“For you.”

“But why?”

You can't help but repeat dumbly. It wasn't your birthday and you don't think you've missed any other important date. There was also a strange tremble in your heart, at the thought that he remembered which ones were your favorite muffins, you don't even remember when you mentioned it.

“I heard you were running around all day in the rain,” he says with a gentle smile. “Just thought you deserved it.”

“Oh.”

You look down at the muffins one more time, a wave of inexplicable emotions washing over you, some threatening to suffocate you in their intensity.

“You've been really nice to me recently,” you murmur. It felt like you were missing something, and the glint in his eyes doesn't help with your suspicions.

“Have I not always been nice to you?”

“I suppose you have.”

He has, hasn't he? Azriel has been a constant by your side for years. Always ready to help you in every way he can, letting you drag him along to anywhere your little heart desires, even taking care of you when you are tired. You had always thought of it as him being a good friend, but you might have been somewhat mistaken.

“I'll let you rest now,” Azriel says, patting your head softly as he often did, except now it felt different, butterflies erupting in your stomach as he did. “Good night.”

“Good night,” you answer absentmindedly, watching him walk to the door, his shadows gathering over his form again.

Azriel leaves before you can say anything more, throwing a breathtaking smile your way and closing the door behind him on the way out, and the whole time you can't stop wondering why you never noticed the way he watches you and listens to everything you tell him attentively, the way his shadows reach for you, and the way his hand lingers on yours.

Oh.

[mnnuni]

Callsign sviper

Jake "hangman" seresin x reader

Summary: Reader's on her period and Jake comes to the rescue

Words: 1956

Genre : fluff

Warnings: none, I just fear it's uneventful (?)

Author's note: disclaimer for the title : the original callsign her mates thought about was "sniper" because she is super cool -obviously- but that would be too cool, and so would have been their second choice "viper" -even if the reason was related to her tough persona- so they combined them together; also I'm trying some new things, so be patient with me, thank you.

* dividers of @strangergraphics

* gif and images from Pinterest

It was rather strange for the pilots of the house to notice that they had to leave for training in ten minutes and there wasn't a sign of (Y/N) yet.

Fanboy went in the kitchen to check it out while Payback got to the board (Y/N) made them hang in the living room with their printed schedules; she was a really organised girl, that's why they needed her -well that and the rent, the main reason she happened to share an apartment with those two was because they needed an extra roommate to minimise their expenses and she was in need of a place to live near work. They actually liked each other though, so after the first difficulty of sharing a house they all settled pretty well together

The duo of pilot and backseater reunited in the corridor whispering, as if they weren't the only ones there, "I don't think she left early, wherever she does she leaves a note"

Payback pondered his man's phrase a little before nodding and pointing it right, "could she have forgotten?"

"tsk. She never forgets"

"right."

They were still in the corridor for at least another two minutes : two grown ass men, pilots of the American navy, froze in place because they couldn't move without their lady.

"Arg fuck it, I'm knocking"

And then another two minutes of diatribes because they were scared she was still asleep and kill them for wake her up or she could have been in company and they didn't notice. When they finally convinced themselves of the "grown man" part they knocked together -like this they were both equally responsible-

They just got a weird verse in response so they opened the door and pocked their head inside. Fanboy swore he never saw her room like this : the only light was from the half open blinds and at least five scented candles, on her desk there was her open laptop left to die -which she never did- and two mugs from the day before filled with whatever, her bed was unmade with dozens of pillows on it and a strange mass...

That's when Payback got it "Oh shit".

(Y/N)'s head emerged from the covers with bags under her eyes and messy hair "hi".

They rushed to her side "what happened?" "You okay?" "Why are you in bed still?" "What's in the mugs" and so on

She closed her eyes and breathed in, they gave her space to elaborate -they learned the hard way she needed time to express herself-

"I got my period tonight, ence why I feel like shit : it was early. I already called Mav to call in sick, tomorrow I'm all yours"

It seemed it pained her just to talk and she, in fact, changed position on the bed.

"Can we do anything for you?"

Sweet, sweet fanboy.

Payback was rubbing his hand on her back and she smiled appreciatively.

"Go to work boys, don't worry, you need training"

"You sure?"

"Positive. And bring me something sweet when you come back" they smiled and got up, "oh and don't tell anyone about this" Payback nodded and Fanboy saluted her.

They knew she didn't want to be considered weak and even if no one would have called her that they still respected her decision... That didn't stop them from texting her constantly through the day to check on her though.

(Y/N) got out of bed around two hours after her roommates left, but just because she stained her pants and needed a warm shower; then she finally put her laptop in charge and pretended to tidy up her bed -it was just a way of rearrange her pillows more comfortably-

She proceeded to vegetate on her bed for the rest of the morning, only moving to eat some cookies before she got nauseous again.

(Y/N) was unaware of the fact that at the station there was a certain Lieutenant on edge since that morning because she wasn't there and her roommates just told everyone she had a "thing" and couldn't come.

Jake really tried to not overstep or, worse, threaten the two boys and squeeze something from them but he really was glued on their tails all morning in hope of gathering anything, really; so much that they had to sneak in the bathroom to call her during their break.

Hangman was just behind the door though, ear attached to the surface.

"How you doin' sweetie?" "Feeling any better?"

Hangman was glad she had them, they were really adoring to her. He didn't understand her answer though.

The roommates were catching her up with their training when she asked something, "oh no, we can't, we have to fly out in 10" said Fanboy

"Want me to order it from here?"

She must have said no, because then Payback said he would have taken her something when they'd come back home.

When the duo got out they were faced with Hangman, hand on his hip and a determinate look on his face. He only said "what does she need?" and ten minutes later he was off with a permit.

In the meantime (Y/N) had changed forty-five position in bed and was currently debating whether to getting up to cook, order take out or starve herself untill she became maniac.

Someone opened the door and she tried to yell "heere" but just came up with a muffled-by-the-sheets grunt. The person must've understood anyway 'cause she could hear footsteps.

Hangman found her with her legs up on the wall and one of her hands stuffed in her pants on her stomach, with the other she was holding her phone. He almost chuckled.

"You good?"

She recognised that voice immediately, (Y/N) arched her neck to have a confirmation of who was standing at her door and sighed when she saw him , "I'm gonna kill those two idiots"

He really chuckled now.

"They didn't say anything, I forced them to when I overheard your phone call", (Y/N) made to move to look at him better but he stopped her "no no, you looked comfortable" and he then proceeded to step in her room until the bed; he was waiting for permission to sit on it when she nodded yes.

Hangman lifted a full bag then "I got you something, if you get up I could cook it for you"

(Y/N) narrowed her eyes "you can cook?"

"You know I can"

She knew he could, but she was in a too vulnerable position to not tease him.

"Can i wait another five minutes to get up?" she almost pleaded while moving her fingers on her stomach

"Sure, I'm gonna start and set up".

When (Y/N) got up it actually passed almost ten minutes, but Jake didn't mind : he had time to discover where things were stored and to organise his space, he was a very finicky guy. She looked at his back and how his muscles moved when he stirred something in a pan, how he looked so comfortable in her kitchen.

"What are you making?" he was turning to face her and answer her but she stopped him "no wait, let it be another surprise. Tell me though, why are you cooking for me?"

(Y/N) got her hairs up in a bun when she sat at the table in front of him and looked a little less pale just from the smell of food. Jake was almost ready to tell her how blue he was at work without her and how much he needed to see for himself that she was actually okay, but he retreated.

"Can't I do something nice for you?"

They weren't exactly the best of friends, so this phrase unsettled her a little. Still, there was always some kind of tension between them, a spark every time they teased each other -and there wasn't one day without a snark comment from the both of them-

(Y/N) just shrugged her shoulders with a little grin on her face, one he copied before continuing to work.

She spent all the time admiring him cook while he recounted her his day at work. It felt so good to be like this with him that she almost forgot her pain.

In about half an hour Jake was turning to face her again, this time with two full plates.

"I heard spaghetti with red and yellow tomatoes is your favourite"

(Y/N) was speechless: the dish smelled delicious and Jake looked so good in an apron with an hot plate in hand that she could have just smile.

They ate in a comfortable silence, occasionally sharing smiling glances. Jake was taking everything in, hoping to do something like this again.

When it was time to clean Jake offered to tidy everything up while she could relax, but (Y/N) swore that she had to help him because she couldn't take advantage of his strange generosity.

"I am always generous" she wasn't sure if he was faking or not his offence but she scoffed either way, "sure Hangman".

While he washed the dishes, she dried them so they were "equally contributing".

Finally (Y/N) offered him her couch, she dreaded to sit on it from the moment she had to stand to help Jake -even thought she didn't mind one bit staying with him in the kitchen, the back pain was coming again-

She sat with her legs curled in front of her and a pillow on her lap; Jake sat next to her, relatively close but not too close to cause her discomfort.

"A movie or a show?" , he looked at her "be honest, how many movies have you already watched today?"

She made a fake thinking expression and then sighed "one and a half", he arched his brow "what? I got bored" Jake chuckled then, "show it is. What do you wanna watch?"

The next few minutes passed with (Y/N) explaining why law and order was one of the best franchise in the world and Jake almost drooling at her enthusiasm.

Halfway through one episode he noticed she was pressing the pillow on her stomach so he got closer and asked if she wanted him to make her a hot-water-bag, "oh no, the water movements make me nauseous, I prefer pillows or my hand usually. But thank you"

"Oh"

Another two minutes passed before he found the courage to ask her another question.

"Do you want to use my hand? I um tend to run hot"

(Y/N) looked at him with wide eyes and a weird feeling in them; she was so touched by his offer, it was such a sweet and caring thing to do for someone.

"Sure" she whispered and got closer to him.

Jake didn't expect his suggestion to be accepted, but after the initial confusion he slowly approached her. He opened his arm to make her settle in his side and after he circled her with his arm, he slightly lifted her shirt and positioned his hand on her stomach. (Y/N) was trying so hard to stay still and concentrate on the TV, but it was true that Jake's touch was so warm and soft.

After she finally accepted his presence on her, (Y/N) moved his hand to where she wanted it and snuggled up in his side.

Jake was feeling so ecstatic.

It didn't take long for (Y/N) to fall asleep on him after Jake started to move his thumbs in soothing circles. Eventually he slumbered too after he confirmed she was comfortable and sound asleep.

When Payback and Fanboy came back home they found the lieutenants still curled up on the couch, they looked so cozy and happy together like that.

"They are so cute"

"The cutest"

"Ohh Phoenix's gonna eat up these photos"

[leyavo]

Hello!! I hope you're having a nice day!! I absolutely LOVE your writing!! I was wondering if you would be able to write about a sickly!reader? I'm chronically ill and have been since birth and I can never find representation for us frail bony besties. Could you either do general headcanons (platonic pls) or like dad!price with sickly!reader?

Hey thank you (🤕 anon) for the kind words. Sorry for the long wait. (I included some chronic illnesses that I am familiar with and know people that have them, but all illnesses are different for each person and not the same) I hope you have a nice day too!! 🥹 I did your request with Dad!Price.

[Main masterlist]

TF141 x Chronically ill!reader (platonic)

John Price x Daughter!reader:

You’d over done it yesterday, pushed yourself to do all your errands in one day and you were reaping the consequences of it today. The weight of your limbs not lifting as they kept you in bed. So sore that you could feel the ache deep into your bones.

The house silent, nothing but the warm summer breeze pushing the veiled curtains at the bottom of your bed. You don't want to move, cant stomach the searing pain of sitting up, so you give in to the fact you'll be doing nothing. The remote control left beside the tv, too far for you to reach.

A soft knock taps on your closed door and you mumble for them to come in. You Dad's head creeping in through the small opening, "bad day, kiddo?"

You nod, regretting the action. You’d clenched your jaw last night to counteract the pain and now your whole face hurt this morning. He walks in, picking the remote up as he passes it and drops it into your lap, gently.

"On a scale of one to ten?" He says, large hand slipping behind your shoulders as he helps you lean against the three well positioned pillows against the headboard. His gaze locked on yours, as if telling you not to downplay the pain.

"Eight," you mumbled, trying not to focus on the aching stabs surging through your hips as you sat up. It’s better than laying down though, least your hair won’t get too greasy or knotty.

"I feel sick.”

He glances to the bedside table, the packet of medication scattered the surface, the leaflet half tucked under the bed. The glass half empty, sitting on top of a bit of water you'd spilt when you tried to put it back on the table. "That's because ya' took your meds on an empty stomach," he said, no doubt having counted the strip of pills.

"I'm in too much pain to eat." Your words slurred as you spoke, eyes heavy as you tried to fight the drowsiness of the pills. That and the sleepless night you had, not able to find a comfortable position to lay in.

"I know, I know," he says, hand pawing the hair out of your face. "Why don't I make you some honey porridge? You'll feel a bit better and the meds will kick in soon." Your favourite and something easy to eat, nothing too chewy either. Plus it was your favourite, you ate it for breakfast and lunch nearly everyday as a two year old. He leans down, kissing your forehead before he leaves you to search the tv guide as you wait.

He returns with a tray, two bowls and a few snacks scattered around them. You can smell the honey as soon as he walks in, thankful that he’d checked on you before going to work.

“You’re uh, staying?” You asked as he peels the blanket back and joins you in the bed, his large frame hanging off the edge a little but he didn’t complain.

“Yeah, paperwork I can do later here.” He shrugs, placing the tray on your lap and taking a bowl of cereal for him self, it balances in his palm as he flicks through the tv. “You wanna watch that new movie?”

Of course you do, you’ve been on at him to watch the third one of the trilogy you both like. Waiting, because you know he’ll want to see your reaction and you his. Gives you something to talk about, theories to create whilst you wait for the next instalment or spinoff.

It’s over two hours long though, the porridge warming your aching stomach. You both talk back and forth about the characters, but you can’t fight the heavy weight pulling on your eyelids. You’re gone before you realise it, head on your dad’s shoulder and sleeping.

When you wake up, your dad’s snoring beside you. The end credits still rolling, your meds have kicked in, but you’re still in for a rough few days maybe even weeks. But you’re glad your dad’s there to help. You’re sure he’ll stay home until you’re walking about the house.

Simon Riley x Childhood friend!reader with multiple sclerosis:

You don't know why you let Simon pick the pub, the dingy place reminding you to wipe your boots on the way out. The worn carpet looked like it had been excavated for fossils, lumps here and there, crosses of gaffa tape holding torn parts together.

Simon's hand hovers over the small of your back, head dipped as he mumbles for you to watch your step. One drink, obviously something soft and not alcoholic. All you wanted to do was play a few games of darts like you used to every time Simon returned home. A little tradition you'd cancelled on the last three times due to a flare up.

Not that Simon minded, no he'd spent the night at your flat and watched a whole season of a tv show with you.

You were feeling good, made sure you hadn't done much the past few days in hopes it would conserve your energy and not trigger anything.

Simon guides you to the booth in the back, right next to the dart board. He waits for you to sit back in the leather seat and set your walking stick to the side before he leaves to get the drinks in.

An ice cold vanilla and lemonade float slides on the table in front of you. "Ready to lose, mate?" he says, taking a gulp of his beer and setting it on the table.

You let the melted ice cream over flow the glass, scooping a lump into your mouth with the chunky straw. "Don't cry when I win, Si." you pat his shoulder, hand wrapping around the darts he hands you.

The evening's filled with laughter, the odd teasing and nudging when you so accidentally elbow him. "Oh you wanna play dirty eh."

It doesn't last long though as you go to grab your glass, the tremor in your hand stopping you from tightening your grip. The glass drops, shattering to the floor. Your vision blurring as you tried to focus on your twitching fingers instead of the surge of pain shooting down to your wrist.

The cool drink splashing on your trousers, but you just stare at mess. Simon's already crouching down and mopping it up, taking the brush from the bar maid and sweeping it off your boots.

"Come on," Simon said, pulling you out of your thoughts. "Lets go get a kebab on the way home." He gently guides your walking stick into your hand and walks with you out of the pub. He’s a grounding presence for you to hold on to, not just in the physical sense but in every other too. He’s quick to think, act and make you feel like you’re not at a total loss. A scrap of normality thrown in as he talks about the flickering light that still hasn’t been fixed outside the kebab shop. How many years is tha’ now?

You're quiet as he queues up to order, the plastic chair on the side of the street digging into legs. The dull tingling in your hand has now spread up your arm and its hard trying to ignore it.

Simon doesn't say much as you both eat your food, his gaze flitting to you every now and then as you drop your wrap between each bite. Brown eyes assessing you for any knowing tells. He was covered in grazes and bruises and still made time for you.

"I'm sorry."

He shakes his head, "none of tha, you ain't apologising. Don't look at me like tha," he said, voice rough as he stared you down. You'd known each other long enough to not beat around the bush and say what you thought. You used to apologise for the smallest things, even for stuff you shouldn't. Simon always the one to tell you that you didn't need to.

"It's good to see you," you say, chucking a slice of pickle at him.

"Any excuse to get out of losing," he said, dodging the pickle and it landed on his shoulder, slipping down his leather jacket. “Let’s get you home, dying for a cuppa.”

Simon’s good at taking your mind off things and reminding you not to be too hard on yourself. Always there to listen if you need to get something off your chest.

Johnny MacTavish x sister!reader with a pacemaker:

“Johnny, you really didn’t have to take leave from work,” you grumbled, huffing as he gently took the milk carton out of your hands. “I can lift a bloody…”

The skin across your collarbone tightening as you turned to shut the fridge door. You squeezed your eyes shut, teeth sinking into your bottom lip trying to muffle a sob. The incision in your chest ached, the pacemaker underneath your flesh heavy on your left.

“You want mam to be looking after ya?” He said, palm smoothing your back. “Six weeks is nothing, compared to the months of rehab you helped me through after I got shot.” He says it like he’s repaying a debt, but you don’t call him out on it. Always the one to pay it back without a reminder. Not that you’d call it in.

You shook your head, knowing your younger brother was less suffocating than your own mother. There’s dishes of homemade food filling the freezer already, no doubt Johnny will go through them in a week the amount he eats.

“Shoot me now,” you mumbled under your breath.

“Aye, don't carry weapons at home." Johnny chuckles, guiding you to the living room and nudging his head for you to sit on the sofa. You laid down, letting him drape a blanket over your lap and turn on your favourite show on the tv.

Your gaze trailed after Johnny each time he came in the house. A basket of dried clothes leaning on his hip. He dropped it to the floor and sunk into the armchair next to you, his hands diving in the basket as he plucked out a shirt and folded it. He bent, down and hesitated, brows scrunching as he pushed something aside. You leant forward and groaned, the tight pull making you fall back against the cushions.

"Don' worry, I'm not going to touch ya' underwear. Might need to burn me eyes out.." he said, elbowing the stack of clothes off his knee. "I'll take ya' washing to Mam's." He picks them up and dumps them back in the basket, straightening them out so their half folded again.

"I can do my own washing Johnny." You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. Johnny had surprisingly picked you up from the hospital after the pacemaker had been fitted, your mother neglecting to tell you that he'd offered himself up to help you and live at your house for the next six weeks.

"Ya not supposed to be lifting your arm or carrying stuff."

You lift your left arm slightly, middle finger raising. "Look at tha' I think I'm just fine."

Johnny chuckles, shaking his head. “Why don’ we go for a walk?”

You frown as he picks up your car keys from the hook on the wall, a knowing look of him scolding you for letting everyone see it. Stuff like that should be stored away.

He drives to the nearest loch, knowing that you like to walk the Munro there, but you’re capable of that yet so you walk down to the pebbly loch. He skims some rocks across the water, talking with you and asking you what he’s missed since he’s been gone.

The air is clear and you breathe it in, chest shuddering but it’s not too bad. Johnny starts to take you for daily walks, a nice way for you to both get out of the stuffy house and talk. You talk about a lot, stuff you’ve never before and you’re glad Johnny took the time to come home. To come help you.

The days turn the weeks and you’re finally walking the sloping hills with Johnny. Just like you did as kids, he’s even got his camera and taking pictures at the top. Something he used to do before he joined the military.

And when the six weeks are up, you don’t want to say a goodbye. Even Johnny lingers in the doorway, his arms wrapping around you as his chin rests on your shoulder.

You stare at your clothes and Johnny's military folding in the drawer. The scribbled mess of his handwriting telling you what’s in the lunchboxes of the freezer. He’d done so much for you and you knew he would anyways.

Kyle Garrick x brother!reader with arthritis:

You could always count on Kyle to give you a lift to the hospital. He waits in the doctors office, your jacket draped over his crossed arms in his lap.

Every three months, Kyle made sure that you’d have someone to take you and if there wasn’t anyone available he made sure he was there for you. Most times it was Kyle though, ready to take the whole day and spend it with you, even if you were pencilled in for the morning or evening.

He smiles, waiting for you to shrug your jacket back on. You regularly get steroid injections in your spine for your arthritis, the only way to ease the pain. Sure it took a couple days to really feel a difference, but it was worth the quick stab in order to feel the weight lifted off your back.

The first few hours you feel the pulsing heat at the base of your spine and it tingles up and down your back. Kyle doesn’t rush you as you walk back to the car park, he refuses your handful of change as he taps his card for the parking fees.

“Don’t worry mate,” he says, shoving his card back in his wallet. “You wanna pick up some food before we go back to yours, there’s a good Thai place I heard about,” he says, swiping his phone unlocked and showing you the saved tab of the menu. Always prepared.

You never say no to food, you’d both tried out a load of different restaurants each time and it had come sort of tradition to order a large amount of food. Eat it for lunch and dinner whilst catching up, sometimes breakfast the next day too.

“Yeah, why don’t we get one of the fixed meal options?” You say, lips tugging as Kyle slows down and falls in step beside you. He’s observant matching your energy, making sure you don’t feel too rushed.

Maybe it’s the way you lean forward slightly that gives the aches away or the sharp intake of air each time your shoes hit the uneven pavement.

“You alright mate?” Kyle always notices.

He opens your door for you and lets you settle in the seat comfortably before he gently closes it. He rounds the front of the car and slides into the drivers seat. He’s careful as he drives, making sure it’s a smooth ride and tries his best to dodge the potholes in the road for your sake and the tyres.

You’ve already ordered your food, Kyle picking it up and dropping it into your lap as he returns. The tender skin where you got the injection burns, no doubt bruised already. You're just hoping you start feeling the benefits soon and can get on with all the little things again.

Thankfully the lift up to your flat is working again, so you don’t have to drag yourself up the stairs. Your limbs start to feel heavy, but you’re close to your front door so push on.

Kyle’s one step ahead, plastic bags straining in his grasp as he twists your key in the lock. The door opening as soon as you catch up with him.

“I got it, why don’t you find a movie while I sort the food.” He’s already taking the plates out the cupboard, knives and forks clinking together.

The afternoon is spent catching up, mindlessly flicking through the streaming services for something decent, but you end watching the football once it kicks off. A crate of alcohol free beer dwindling to nothing, Kyle's good at taking your mind off the pain. Always there to make you laugh, but not too hard that your whole body shakes.

Kyle's a storyteller, so he describes his latest op, leaving out sensitive information with the word classified and his pointer and middle finger making bunny ears as he quotes it "classified." You can picture it like a movie in your head, that you miss an own goal on the tv. You're convinced he exaggerates on some parts, anything to get you questioning whatever craziness he's spewing.

"Nah, how can you fall out a helicopter and still be alive mate? You're havin me on." You shake your head, "What you were just hanging? Nah."

[spacebaby1]

hiyaaa

Can I ask Rindou's reaction to the fact that his partner is expecting his child?

and for more drama (I'm a dramatic girl and I love drama) you could have Rindou's partner hide the situation from him

drama, angst but happy ending 😝

Hiii! Bestie, I got you! One thing about me is that I live for drama in writing 🎀😌🫱🏻‍🫲🏼 let's start!

You and Rindou never had an argument because he always listened to you, but that didn't last long. You couldn't even remember what escalated the whole conversation into an argument, which led to Rindou slamming the door behind him as he left you'd house last night. The whole night you couldn't sleep not until the sun was out and your eyes gave up from all the crying; you weren't even sure why you were feeling emotional usually it's hard to make you cry. Anyways, you fell asleep around the early hours of the day after shutting your phone completely.

All the crying tired your body to no end that you ended up sleeping until late afternoon. Around four in the afternoon you woke up with a painful headache and aching in your abdomen and before you could grab your phone you felt your stomach turned and you ran to the bathroom, throwing up for a good half an hour before you sat on the bathroom floor.

The memories of yesterday's argument came rushing to you after you were back in your room sitting on your bed with your head in your hands. You weren't feeling well at all and thought the argument took a toll on you so bad that you were about to get sick. You didn't question the vomiting because it was how you'd react if you had a heated argument; it was natural body response to you. Finally, picking up your phone, you turned it on only for Rindou's texts. Fill your screen, followed by numerous of missed calls:

My love: Baby are you okay?

Look, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I just lost control. But it wasn't your fault. It was me. Please forgive me?

My love:Darling? Can I call you?

*missed call*

*missed call*

My love: baby please answer me, at least end the ringing so I'll know you can see my calls.

My love: I'm so soo sooo sorry

My love: I can't sleep after I made you upset, I'm an idiot! I wish I can hold you right now...

My love: Are you sleeping, sweetie? Good night, my beautiful baby.

12:23 P.M

My love: baby? Sweetheart? Please text back.

My love: at least tell me you're not hurt I'm fucking going insane!

My love: y/n! Baby, I'm sorry!

3:50 P.M

My love: I'm worried about you angel, text me! It's not your usual self to sleep this much.

My love: Can I come by? I'm sorry baby, please don't give me the silent treatment. I'm so sorry, and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time."

He must've seen you reading the texts, and before you could reply, he called you. You sighed and answered, "Baby? Baby, are you okay?" You heard his tired voice. It wasn't until you answered that you realised how sore your throat was, "hi," it came out almost as a whisper before your cough holding the phone away a bit. Rindou panicked at the sound of your tired voice and coughing, "I'm coming over-"

"No, please not now," you replied in a low voice, "I'm not feeling well, just-just- I nee-" you were crying again, he heard you snuffling. "D-dont cry," now he was crying, You shook your head as if he could see you, "I'm so sorry, I hurt you. "I'm so sorry and i would apologize a thousand times if it means you'll forgive me the thousandth time. Just let me see you."

"Please, Rindou. I need space."

"You're not breaking up with me, are you?" He asked with a shaking voice. "No, Rin, I just need to be alone now." You heard his little sigh, "Okay, baby. Did you just wake up? You sound tired, let me order you some food-"

"No, Rin. I can-"

"No, please. At least let me do what I'm supposed to do as your boyfriend. Let me take care of you?" He sounded defeated, but you loved how he always took care of you No matter where he was. "Okay, I love you." You could almost hear his smile when you said that, "I love you more baby, call me if you need anything." You hung up and rubbed your forehead. The next two days were blurry because of how exhausted and sick you were. Usually, you'd let the fever go away, but it kept getting worse to the point that you couldn't put food down in your stomach.

On the third day you decided to visit the doctors and run some blood test to make sure it isn't anything serious and you wish it wasn't what you heard. "Miss Y/n? The blood test shows that everything is fine, just a slight changes in BP but it's normal at this stage."

"Huh? What do you mean at this stage?" You asked the doctor, and she looked at you confused then back at the chart that she was holding. "The pregnancy, you are three months pregnant, Y/n. Did you not know that?" Your eyes widened, and you could barely hear anything after that. Suddenly, it hit you. You were late, and you've been feeling so much different.

"I'm pregnant? Three mo-month?" You whispered more to yourself than a question to your doctor. The doctor nodded, "it explains that vomiting and the abdominal pain, are you okay?"

You got up, " Can you do an ultrasound? Can i see it?"

The doctor nodded, "Sure, if you'd want to."

You almost cried when you saw the screen of your ultrasound, "This is the baby." She pointed at the screen, and you smiled, forgetting the whole world the moment you saw your baby, "do you want the prints?" You nodded, whipping your happy tears away. It wasn't until you got home and saw the picture of you and Rindou on your phone screen is when your smile dropped; Rindou will not take the news well, you thought to yourself and you thought you were doing a good job at avoiding his texts and calls; it was a bad idea because he only grew more concerned about your relationship.

It was another day of you feeling absolutely horrible and vomiting all morning until your stomach was in knots. You heard the frantic bell ringing, followed by knocking on the front door. Groaning you got up holding your stomach with one hand as to you made your way towards the front door without asking who it was you opend the door slowly only to find Rindou standing there with tired eyes and looking panicked. He immediately gathered you in his arms making you yelp in surprise of how hard he was holding you; one of his hands on the back of your head and the other hilding you by the shoulder, "how could you avoid me for two weeks? I'm going insane thinking about you, baby. Why do you hate me so much? Fuck! I missed you." You gasped for air, "Ri, you are c-cruching me, I'm in pain-" He immediately let go and you almost fell on the ground passing out but he held you to his chest as you caught your breath, "you gonna crush me to death?" You asked in a low voice and groaned in pain holding your stomach. "Did I hurt you? I am so sorry, baby." He picked you up bridle style and headed towards your room, carefully placing you on your bed before sitting beside you and checking your forehead, "baby? You're burning." You shook your head, holding his hand in yours, "it's nothing, just an upset stomach. W-what are you doing here?" You asked, feeling yourself drifting to sleep. He sat on the floor next to the bed, kissed your hand, "you haven't text back for two weeks. I was worried, and you're sick yet you didn't call me?"

You shook your head, "I went to the doctors, it's nothing just a stomachache, it'll go by it's own." Rindou shook his head, "No, let me take care of you, do you wanna eat something?"

"I can't, I'll throw up, and it only hurt my stomach more, I just need to lay down." You said almost in a whisper before eventually falling back asleep, still holding Rindou's hands. "My baby," he kissed your forehead before running to get some cold cloth and place it on your forehead. Since you were sleeping, he decided to tide up your vanity a bit since you couldn't do it, and he noticed your things everywhere.

Rindou picked your make-up and placed them to the side, then your accessories which he put away in the box, and he grabbed your other things and opend the drawer to put them away only to find the ultrasound prints next to the results. His heart started beating fast as he took the picture in hand, eyes wide open he read it again and again making sure what he was looking at was indeed a baby and the test had your name on it. You were pregnant, and he felt his eyes blurred when he saw the date; it was a two and half week old test. He could hold back his sobs as he looked at the ultrasound prints. He was trying not to wake you up with his sobbing and he was shaking so hard that he had to sit down on the floor because he didn't trust his knees to hold him standing; he's gonna be a father? Did you even want the baby? Why didn't you tell him?

He sobbed for an hour before making his way towards you and softly kissing your forehead which made you wake up, and you blinked at him. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand with tears falling from his eyes which made you immediately sit on your bed, "Rinny? Wh-why are you crying? What's wrong?" You cupped his puffy face in your weak hands as your eyes met with his hand holding the ultrasound prints in his hands as more tears fell from his beautiful eyes, "Why didn't you tell me? I'm I not en-" you hugged him closer feeling yourself about to cry, "Don't say that, please." You whispered and he hugged you.

You both stayed like that for minutes and on until Rindou whipped his tears and sat beside you on the bed, with you covered with the blanket and head resting on his chest while he couldn't stop smiling at the picture of your baby. "I'm sorry I wasn’t there for this." You shook your head cuddling closer, "you seem happy." He looked down at you and wrapped his arms around you, "I'm gonna be a dad, of course I'm happy. I can't believe it. I'm gonna be a dad. There's gonna be a mini version of our love? I hope it's a girl, then she'll look as beautiful as you. Did you check? Is it a girl? Or boy?"

You chuckled at his excitement, "No, I didn't. I was just terrified and happy to see the baby." He hugged you closer, "you don't need to be terrified. We'll be great, Mama and dada. I promise."

[wolls-angel]

୨୧ ‧₊˚ long day - j. woll ˚₊‧ ୨୧

pairing: j. woll x fem!reader summary: Y/N is exhausted and Joesph hasn't really noticed until she breaks down after a long day. request: Can I request?? Joesph Woll (my one true love) with reader maybe something along the lines of ‘you look after everyone else but who looks after you’ like super soft ?! I can’t write but I NEED this please, of course only if you are up for it🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼 word count: 1078 warning(s): FLUFF, established relationship, joe being oblivious, not proof read notes: my first request !! i know exactly how reader feels rn. finals are kicking my ass. this is not crazy long because i'm still learning to write long fics but i really hope you enjoy it !! xoxo

Joe's keys jingle as he unlocks the door to your shared condo. He kicks off his sneakers and drops his gym bag on the ground.

"Hey, baby, I'm home!" he raises his voice so you can hear him from another room. There's no response. Weird, normally you are working in the kitchen or taking a nap by the time he gets home from practice. The TV in the living room is off and the condo is eerily silent.

Making his way down the hallway towards your bedroom, he opens the door. The bed is made and your purse, keys and phone are gone from their usual spot on the nightside table. Joe furrows his brow in confusion and walks back into the main area of the house. He pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees a missed call from you, but only one. And no texts.

Wandering into the kitchen, he sees a sticky note on the fridge. Joe takes it off and reads it.

Got called into work. See you at 9:00.

9:00? It's only 5:00 right now. He pulls out his phone and opens your chat.

Sorry about work, sweetheart. See you when you get home.

He sighs. You weren't scheduled to work today. You weren't even supposed to be called in today. He rubs his eyes and yawns. Five hour practice has him wiped. He'll just watch Seinfeld and wait for you to get home, he decides. Then you can both eat together and go to bed.

"Ow, fuck!"

Joe eyes open fast. He jerks awake and almost falls off the couch. He blinks a few times and turns over on his back.

"Joeeeee!!"

He jumps slightly again. You make your way into the living room, "Why are your shoes and bag just in the middle of the floor? I just tripped on them". You look at him with your mouth slightly open, emphasizing you shock.

"Sorry, baby, I-". "Whatever, I'm going to bed" you walk towards your bedroom and close the door hard. You change quickly into more comfortable clothes before Joe walks in.

"How was your day?" he asks, coming over to sit on the side of the bed with you. "Long," you reply, not looking up from your bag as you rummage around, searching for a hair slip. Joe chuckles, "I assumed so, but that's not what I asked. How was your day? What did you do?".

You look up at him and he notices tears swelling in your eyes. "Can I have a hug?" you ask softly. He nods, "Of course". Immediately, your arms wrap around his waist and he can hear soft sobs coming from where your head is buried in his chest.

"Y/N, is everything ok?"

You lift your head and look at him. You nod slowly, a single tear falling from your left eye. Joe moves his thumb to wipe it away and you sniffle.

"Don't lie to me, love. You know that doesn't work."

As if on cue, you start sobbing once more. "Today was so hard, Joey. I have exams coming up and I have barely studied. I was called into work because Jessica called in sick and we are short staffed. Even though I told my boss I couldn't come in, he insisted. He said he'd pay me time and a half but it wasn't worth it.". You pause and inhale deeply, then continue, "Jessica has done none of her work for an article due for publishing in two days, so I basically edited the whole thing. And then on the way home, my sister called and said she needs us to watch the boys next week while she and her husband go to Seattle. We don't have space for them, Joe. But, of course, my mom can't because she is off in Europe for 6 weeks. So, who else will they go to? An orphanage? No, they will come live in our not baby proofed one bedroom condo for 4 days".

By this point you have stopped crying as much and are more in a rant of rage than anything. Joe sits quietly with his hand on your back, feeling your heartbeat. He listens. Normally, you are a ray of sunshine. So peaceful and bright. However, right now, you seem more like a bridge collapsing under too much weight.

"On top of that, I missed the exit for Wendy's so I didn't even get to eat. I'm starving and I'm tired and burnt out and I can't rest because everyone needs something constantly. I'm just... done". You stop ranting and sigh, feeling defeated.

"Wow"

You look up at him, confused, "What?"

"Y/N, you're so... strong". Joe smiles softly and continues, "You take care of everyone. All their bullshit, all their needs. Even mine. I come home every night to a wonderful girlfriend who is getting her education and has a demanding job, but still makes sure my home feels like home. You look after everyone else. But let me ask you something, baby, who looks after you?"

You tilt your head in confusion at the question, "I don't know. Me, I guess". Joe shakes his head. "Wrong, I do. Or, at least, I should be. I'm sorry I haven't noticed the pressure you are under. Do you work tomorrow?"

You nod again. He shakes his head once more, “Call in sick. I have practice early tomorrow but no game. When I get home, I'll help you study for exams. Then, I'll take you out for a nice dinner and we can go see a movie. Sound good?"

You nod again, this time with a small smile forming on your face. He picks you up, slamming you back down on the bed. You laugh and yawn.

He asks, "Time for bed?"

You stretch and wipe your eyes. "Mhm, long day". Joe laughs and slips you both under the covers after turning off the lights and closing your blinds. He places his arm under your head and you body instinctively shifts toward him.

"Joe?" you ask, your eyes already closed.

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow... can we go to the pretty library to study? The one... on Queen?". Joe chuckles at the pauses you take mid sentence. You must truly be exhausted. "Of course, baby, anything you want," he replies, stroking your cheek and tucking your hair behind your ear, "I love you, Y/N".

"I love you too, Joey"

[dippindaz]

Hello again, it is I, the anon who requested the Steve/overweight reader bully thingy a few weeks ago, loved what you did btw, you genuinely wrote Steve so well (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

I was wondering, if mayhaps, I could request something sweet and simple, like Steve and Reader making out for the first time (bonus kudos if it's chubby reader again) and maybe, despite it obviously not being Steve's first time making out, he's still incredibly flustered and everything?

Thank you in advance, even if you don't write it🙏♥️

Hi lovely! I'd be happy to write this! :)

Forgot to add taglist, I'm sorry if anyone on this already read it!!

Warnings: Making out but it's pure fluff sooo

Unexpectedly Breathless (Steve Harrington x Chubby!Reader)

You weren’t exactly sure how you ended up with Steve Harrington in your bedroom on a Thursday night.

Well—okay, you did know how. Robin had bailed on movie night, claiming food poisoning in a very dramatic voicemail, and Steve had shown up at your door anyway, holding two VHS tapes and a family-sized bag of popcorn like it was a peace offering.

“I know I’m not your first choice,” he’d said with that crooked smile, “but I am your most handsome friend.”

You'd rolled your eyes and let him in.

That had been three hours ago.

Now, the credits of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off rolled quietly on the TV across the room. The popcorn bowl sat between you two—mostly kernels by now—and you were both camped out on the floor of Steve’s room, leaning back against his bed. At some point during the second half of the movie, your shoulders had started touching. Neither of you moved away.

It wasn’t awkward. Not really. Just… a little tense. The kind of tension that’s charged, like the air before a summer storm. The kind where you were very aware of your own heartbeat—and his.

“So Ferris fakes sick, lies to his friends, and still gets away with everything,” you said, tossing a kernel at the screen. “Kinda annoying, honestly.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, but it’s like… charming. If I tried that, I’d probably get punched.”

You turned to him with a grin. “You have tried that.”

“Okay, fair,” he laughed, nudging your knee with his. “Still charming, though.”

Your stomach fluttered a little, even though you tried to play it off with a small scoff.

Steve was looking at you differently now—soft around the eyes, like he was seeing you in high-definition for the first time. His gaze dropped to your mouth and lingered for just a second too long.

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the space between you. Or lack of it.

He leaned in a little closer. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice quieter than before, but sincere.

Your breath caught. “Yeah,” you said, barely louder than a whisper. “If you want to.”

He hesitated—not because he didn’t want to, you could feel he did—but like he didn’t want to mess it up. That kind of hesitation made your chest tighten in the best way.

Then, he kissed you.

It was soft, tentative, like he was waiting for you to pull away. His lips were warm and a little uncertain, but the way his hand gently cupped your cheek sent a shiver down your spine.

You kissed him back, slow and shy and full of nerves. You weren’t exactly an expert, and it felt like he was holding back for your sake, which only made it sweeter.

When he finally pulled away—barely—his cheeks were pink, and he looked almost startled.

“Wow,” he murmured. “That was…”

“Nice?” you offered, your voice a little breathless.

He gave a sheepish laugh. “Yeah. Really nice. Like—wow. I’ve, uh… I’ve kissed people before, but that felt kinda like my first first kiss, you know?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Steve Harrington, being flustered? That’s a new one.”

He groaned and dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Don’t make fun of me.”

"How could I not?" You asked with a laugh.

Steve looked up at you, an exaggerated pout on his face. "I'm serious..." he said, voice low and earnest. “That felt... different. Like in a really good way.”

You smiled, heart doing tiny somersaults. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He blinked, then added, “You’re, like... very kissable. Dangerously so.”

You snorted. “Dangerously?”

“I might never stop,” he said, his tone mock-serious but his eyes all sincerity.

Your stomach swooped, heat crawling up your neck. “Then don’t.”

That short-circuited whatever cool, flirtatious thing Steve was trying to pull off, because his ears turned bright red and he froze for half a beat before laughing nervously.

“Oh my god,” he mumbled, shaking his head like he couldn’t believe this was real. “Okay. Uh—”

But before he could second-guess it, you leaned in and kissed him again.

This time, it was deeper. A little longer. His hand found your waist—tentative at first, like he was scared to touch too much—and when you didn’t flinch away, he let out a quiet breath through his nose and kissed you more confidently.

You shifted, turning a bit more toward him, and suddenly his other hand was cradling your jaw again, thumb brushing the soft skin under your ear. He kissed like he cared too much—like he wasn’t just trying to make out, he was trying to make you feel something.

And you did.

God, you did.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “Is this okay?”

Your eyes fluttered open. “More than okay.”

That made him grin—dazed and boyish—and then he kissed you again, slower this time, like he had all the time in the world. Your hand slid up to the back of his neck, fingers threading into that famously fluffy hair, and you felt him shiver under your touch.

He let out a soft, totally involuntary “mmph” when your nails lightly scraped his scalp, and it hit you then: Steve Harrington is melting. Right here. Because of you.

“You’re really bad at pretending this is normal,” you murmured between kisses.

He huffed a laugh against your lips. “Because it’s not normal,” he muttered. “You’re... you’re so pretty, and you smell amazing, and I think I’m having a full-on heart attack right now.”

You giggled, and he kissed you again like he was trying to get that sound back. You kissed him slower, letting him set the pace but pushing just a little—tongue flicking out, catching his bottom lip—and the way he groaned was so soft and genuine it made you feel brave.

“Jesus,” he whispered, forehead resting against yours. “I don’t even care if you’re doing that on purpose. Please keep doing that.”

You were both flushed and out of breath now, knees brushing, his hands warm and solid on your waist like he didn’t want to let go. The movie had long since ended, but neither of you noticed. You were too busy getting lost in each other—slowly, softly, and completely.

Taglist: @starrz2009 @anothersoulless @maximmee @yunnie-f1 @liils-lu @starzfl @lemonysweetheart

[masonmtxo]

Anytime you need me - Rewrite

Summary: Mason gets a call to pick his girlfriend up from the club

Words: 3k ish

Note: this is a rewrite of my first ever fic! It’s doubled in length and has been changed slightly so hopefully it’s a bit better than the original! As always, feedback is appreciated 🩷

Mason awoke with a start at the sound of his phone continuously buzzing on his bedside table. Rolling over and reaching to grab it, the time 2:06 am flashed up on the screen.

Squinting at the bright light, he flicked his messages open, clicking on your name as numerous notifications filtered down the screen.

He smiled to himself, rolling his eyes at your blatant drunkenness but pleasantly surprised that the messages were entirely coherent, half expecting you to have blown his phone up with nonsense. He slowly sat up and stretched as he clicked the call icon beside your name, eyes still too full of sleep to attempt texting you back.

You picked up on the first ring, some rustling coming down the line before he heard you speak, “Maseyyy, hiiii baby!” Your voice was slurred, a faint thumping from the bass of the club's music could be heard in the background but not so loud he couldn't hear you. Mason frowned slightly, assuming you couldn't have been inside the venue if the music was so distant.

It wasn't often you rang Mason in the middle of the night to pick you up from a night out, when you went out for drinks with friends it would usually end at a much more civilized hour, Mason more often than not acting as your taxi. But on the rare occasion you were out beyond midnight, you would avoid disturbing Mason at all costs, not wanting to wake him up when he had a match or training the following day. You had always promised to ring him in an emergency though, so his heart jumped at the thought of you potentially being unsafe.

"Hi pretty girl, are you okay?” He tried to keep his voice level as his anxiety spiked.

“Yeah baby I’m okay,” your wobbly voice echoed into his ear, “I was wondering if you could pick me up? Lana has found a random bloke so isn’t going home now. I was gonna get a taxi home because I can’t stay at hers like planned but since you're off tomorrow I figured you'd get mad if I did.”

“Yeah of course, I'm just getting ready to come and get you now,” he couldn't help but feel irritation swell in his chest and the thought of your friend abandoning you but was relieved that you had asked, “Where are you?"

He stood from the bed, walking to the chair stood in the corner of your bedroom and yanked on his hoodie and joggers that he had thrown on it a few hours prior.

“outsideeee", you giggled down the line after a pause and another rustle in the background.

He sighed deeply, coming to the quick realisation that you weren't as sober as your messages had led him to believe, "I know that baby, what club are you at?"

In between drunken giggles you revealed the name of the club that you had ended up in that night, quietly whispering down the line that it smelt like sweaty feet in there and that was why you had taken it upon yourself to wait outside.

Furrowing his eyebrows at your response he quickly grabbed his keys from the dresser and jogged down the stairs, "Wait, are you on your own?"

"Noooo, there's a man being sick next to the lamppost and I think his friend is asleep on the floor right by my feet!" You giggled, resulting in another deep sigh from your boyfriend.

"Y/n how many times have I told you not to wander off on your own?” He grumbled out as he slid into his car, his half asleep body shivering from the cold.

The call dropped for a second as he started his engine, connecting through his car causing him to wince as your voice echoed through his speakers.

"I'm not on my own baby, I just told you, I'm with new friends!"

Mason couldn’t help but laugh at your cheer before quickly remembering his drunk girlfriend was standing outside a sketchy club, "Two random drunk men do not count as friends love, where’s Lana?”

“I told you Mase, she left with a man just now!”

“You didn't say she had already left!” He chastised, “just she wasn't going back to hers.”

Mason couldn't help but feel his anger grow towards your friend, pissed off she had ditched you in favour of hooking up with a stranger from the club. Lana was a nice girl, but Mason had seen straight through her from day dot and was forever reminding you Lana’s friendship was only there until a man came on the scene. He never anticipated she would be one to desert you on a night out when you had plans to stay at hers, otherwise he would have stayed awake and kept tabs on you.

Mason sighed yet again, “please go and wait inside until I get there baby, I'll be 10 minutes.”

“It’s okay Mase, I’ll stay with my friends!” You smiled as the man on the floor beside you began to stir.

Mason could hear the man muttering in the background of the call, panic growing by the second. He didn't mean to sound so sharp, but knew it would be the only way to get you to pay attention through your drunken haze, “Get back inside. Now, Y/N."

Mason pulled off the driveway and began his drive through the quiet streets of Surrey as you mumbled down the line in protest but followed his instructions, the music now coming through the line louder and clearer than before, "Good girl, I'm hanging up now you're inside. Just wait there, I'm only round the corner."

Mason pressed his foot to the accelerator a bit harder, praying silently there were no police cars roaming the streets as he sped to your location.

A few minutes later the club came into sight and Mason pulled up in an empty space across the street. The two men he presumed you had been standing beside were still outside on the pavement, though two more men, who he suspected were bouncers, had now joined them.

Mason looked up from his phone to see your dress-clad figure stumble from the front entrance, rolling down his window to give you a wave as he spotted you scanning the road in front of you in search of his car.

Your face broke into a grin as you spotted him, quickly darting across the empty street to his car, but not before throwing a "Bye guys!" to the two partially unconscious men you had 'befriended'.

You reached his car, leaning in through the drivers window, pouting your lips to ask for a kiss which Mason granted, pressing his lips to yours in a quick peck.

"Hi baby, I missed you", you giggled into his neck as you leaned further into the car and cuddled into his warm body.

Mason reached up to stroke your hair back, gently lifting your head so he could see your face, "missed you too pretty, did you have a good night?" He asked.

You grinned back at him, slowly nodding your head and letting out a dragged out "Yesss, the best!"

"Good, now get in the car please before someone sees and thinks I'm soliciting you", he teased, aware you weren't in the nicest area and having a half dressed woman hanging through his car window down a dark street may have looked a bit suspicious to onlookers. He leaned across the car to open the passenger side door ready for you as you let out an offended gasp.

"Hey! I'm not a prostitute! I'm your girlfriend!" You laughed, lightly smacking his chest before stumbling around to the passenger side.

He hummed in response as you slid into your seat, throwing your bag at your feet with a tired sigh. He leaned across to plug your belt in after watching you struggle, giving you another quick kiss before starting his engine and pulling away.

He spent the entirety of the short drive home quietly chuckling in response to your drunken ramblings, animatedly giving him a play by play of your night's adventures.

"And then, as I was waiting to order my drink, this guy came over and I think he might've been flirting with me, Mase!" You gasped, "he offered to buy me a drink and he kept looking at my boobs, which I thought was pretty rude. But anyway, I told him I wasn't interested and 5 minutes later he was necking on with some other girl on the dance floor so I really don't think he was that interested either!"

Mason couldn't help but burst out laughing, reaching his hand across the center console to grasp your hand in his, giving your fingers a light squeeze.

“Why are you laughing at me?” You frowned, head tilted in confusion, “That is not very nice. I haven't said anything funny.”

His lips trembled as he tried to contain his chuckles, pulling your hand up to place a kiss to it in apology, “sorry baby, you're right. Did you have a good time apart from that?”

“Yesss!” You nodded animatedly, “I had to make new friends though as Lana was sitting at the bar with this bloke most of the night.”

Mason sighed in response, reminding himself in the morning to speak to you about being careful around your so-called friend. He would never tell you what you could or couldn't do, but he couldn't help but itch at the thought of you going out with just her again. His brain was in overdrive imagining the position you may have been in if he wasn't there to come and pick you up.

“I’m glad you had fun baby girl,” he kissed the back of your hand once again, holding it against his lips for a moment as he focused on the road ahead.

He looked across at you as he pulled onto the drive, innocently staring up at him with a soft smile making his heart clench at how much he adored you. Mason turned and pressed a kiss to your softly pouted lips, pecking you one, two, three times before turning to climb out the car and walk round to the passenger side to help you out. You'd made it as far as unplugging your seatbelt as he pulled the door open, reaching down to grab your clutch and heels that you had slipped off during the journey before scooping you up from the seat and carrying you bridal style up the driveway.

"Thank you for coming to get me," you whispered into his neck as he carried you to the front door, glancing back to check the car had locked as he placed you carefully on the doorstep.

"Anytime baby" he breathed against the side of your head as he unlocked the door.

The house was dark as you made your way in, the both of you heading straight for the stairs to take you up to your bedroom, fatigue setting in as the warmth of your house consumed you. You took the stairs slowly, Mason’s large hands wrapped around your waist to guide you from behind. You leant heavily into Mason's grip as he guided you through the bedroom door and directed you into your ensuite.

"C'mon baby, sit up on the counter,” he instructed, turning you and lightly lifting you from the hips until you were settled in front of him beside the sink.

He reached into the draw to his right, pulling out some wipes and gently beginning to wash away your makeup, softly tugging the false lashes from your lids as he stood between your thighs.

You stared up at him as he worked away, brows furrowed in concentration as he attempted to wipe away every trace of makeup on your skin.

You hadn't even realised your eyes were fluttering shut until the fingers that were cupping your jaw tapped lightly against your skin, "don't fall asleep on me just yet, pretty girl, you'll be annoyed if you wake up in the morning with makeup on."

You grumbled in response, eyes shutting completely as you felt your head beginning to spin, tiredness settling deep in your bones. You heard the click of a lid, flinching slightly as Mason wiped a cold blob of what you assumed was moisturizer onto your forehead, his gentle fingers massaging the cream into your skin making you sigh in contentment.

Reaching across behind you, fumbling around until you located your toothbrush and the tooth paste, eyes too blearly to properly see what you were doing. You squinted slightly as you squirted a blob onto the head of the brush, quickly wetting it and shoving it into your mouth.

"Good try babe,” Mason paused, a chuckle leaving his mouth, “but that's my brush.”

Glancing down to the toothbrush in your hand, you shrugged, continuing to scrub your teeth as he shook his head, muttering under his breath that he would just get another one tomorrow. You rolled your eyes, figuring he had shared enough of your germs throughout the years to be that concerned but settled down when he flashed you a cheeky smile.

Carefully unwrapping your legs from his waist, he ducked out of the bathroom, returning moments later with your pajamas in his hand.

“Spit,” he murmured after stepping back between your parted thighs.

Leaning to the side, you spat the tooth paste from your mouth as instructed and turned back to look up at your boyfriend who wiped the excess foam from the corner of your mouth with his thumb.

Holding onto your hips, he gently slid you down from the counter and settled you on your feet, lifting your dress and slowly pulling it over your head. He worked in silence, unclipping your bra and sliding your knickers down your legs, quickly slipping his old t-shirt over your head before helping you step into your sleep shorts.

Once you were suitably dressed for bed and make-up free, he pressed another kiss to your lips and nodded his head towards the toilet, "go for a wee quick, otherwise you'll have us both awake again in an hour.”

You nodded in response, doing as you were told as Mason busied himself filling you a glass of water to take to bed and clearing away the used make up wipes. With a sideway glance, daring you to make a comment, he grabbed his toothbrush and gave his own teeth a quick refresh.

Flushing the toilet and shimmying your shorts back up, you joined him at the sink, knocking your hip into his as you washed your hands. He smiled with a shake of his head, watching as you skipped past him back into your bedroom and dove head first into the pile of sheets that had been left unmade from his previously disturbed slumber.

You sat up and watched him as he placed the glass of water on your nightstand, pulling your phone from your discarded clutch and plugged it in to charge. It was small actions like that that made your heart leap with affection for your boyfriend, knowing you would always be looked after and doted on as if it was second nature to him.

Mason stood back after helping you under the duvet, walking around to his side of the bed. Your eyes locked onto his bare body as you watched him pull his jumper over his head, admiring the way his back muscles moved under his soft skin. There was something so sexy to you about the way he undressed himself, roughly grabbing the collar of his top and seamlessly pulling it over his head, a sight that had you brain running away with itself as you thought back to all the times he had done that same action before having his way with you. The sight made you shiver and your skin heat, your alcohol fuelled hormones making your head spin.

Mason kept his back to you as he dropped his joggers over his narrow hips, sitting down on the edge of the bed to yank them off before settling in beside you, reaching to turn his bedside lamp off and engulfing the room in darkness.

You groaned in protest that the show had ended, rolling onto his chest as he laid back, gently scratching your nails across the light smattering of hair. He moaned in contentment at the feeling, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around you to pin you against his chest.

"I love you," you whispered into the dark, tucking your head into his neck, hooking your leg over his hips to cuddle into him impossibly closer.

"I love you too baby," Mason hummed, rolling himself into you so your bodies were pressed against each other, lips finding yours in the dark for a loving kiss. His lips molded against yours with ease, the kiss slow and gentle, Mason eventually pulling away to let out a tired yawn.

“We better get some sleep,” he sighed, settling into the pillow, nose brushing against yours as you had decided to share his for the night, not wanting to part from his embrace.

“Night Masey,” you whispered, pecking his lips one more time for good measure, “thank you for looking after me.”

"Always."

[cherry-holmes]

REGRET

Part 1

(Javier Peña x F!Reader)

Credits of the gif on the image.

MAIN MASTERLIST

Summary: Finding out you’re pregnant create a split between you and Javier. He soon will discover that one can regret they own words.

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word count: +3k

Warnings: Writer prefer to not give details to prevent spoilers. Read under your own responsibility.

A/N: Hello👋🏻 This is a little something that came to my mind when a saw this gifs last week🧍🏻‍♀️ Let me know in comments if you like it👀

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

Javier and you have been dating for a year and a half now. It started as something casual. You were just neighbors, then you used to talk about the weather when you crossed paths in the building. Then, he invited you for a drink, and you ended up in his bed.

He told you he was a DEA agent, and you talked about your community service as an English teacher in Bogotá.

Javier was funny and charming. He always treated you like a princess and fucked you like a slut. He was attentive, but he worked a lot. You never seriously talked about what exactly you were, but you spent much more time at his place than yours. He hadn't given you a key, precisely, but he told you he had a copy on top of his door so you could enter when you arrive and he was still at work. He picked you up from the school, and you cut his hair when needed.

Life had been busy, and you never really stopped to ask him if your relationship had a label. The truth is, neither of you had actually stopped and asked each other what would come next when he caught Escobar and/or you finished your community service.

You never thought about it, until that damn morning.

"Fuck."

It can't be happening. Two lines on a pregnancy test were the last thing you needed. You looked at it for a long, long time, trying to process what was going on. You wanted a blood test to confirm, but there's a reason why you already took a pee test. Morning sickness and a delay in your period activated the alarms. You hadn't told Javier anything yet, but it was only a matter of time now.

That afternoon you went to the laboratory, and by noon you received a phone call confirming the results. You were, indeed, very pregnant. After you hung up the phone, you cried a lot. How were you going to tell Javi? What would you do with your job? What were you going to tell your parents? Did you really want to have it... him/her?

You felt the urgency to make a decision in that very moment. Javier was going to ask you when you told him, and you knew he hated the "I don't know."

It took you one, two, three hours, and you had an answer. You knew it was the right one because you thought it would take you a lot longer to decide. But when your heart landed in the same place over and over so quickly, you simply knew it.

Javier came home late at night, but earlier than usual. He looked tired and pissed, and he let his weight fall on the kitchen chair to devour what you had made for dinner. You looked at him the entire time, and the nervousness in your chest made it impossible to eat anything. You wanted to tell him. You couldn't contain the news any longer.

"Javi," you began. He didn't look at you for more than a second before his sleepy eyes fell on his plate again. "I have something to tell you. It's very important."

"What is it, babe?" he asked, his voice slurred.

"I..." You fought the lump in your throat, encouraging yourself to tell him. "I'm pregnant."

Until that moment, you didn't know what you expected. You didn't imagine him crying with emotion and jumping around the apartment, screaming to the four winds that he was going to be a dad. But you didn't imagine what his real reaction would be, either.

Javier didn't even look at you. He dropped his fork, leaned back in his chair, and passed his hands over his face. It wasn't a surprised, emotional reaction. He was pissed. He was cursing the situation.

You didn't say anything as you felt your heart and soul sink into your stomach. Disappointment washed over you as you saw his reaction. You tried to think of something else to say, but you went blank.

"We can't," he finally said, really looking at you for the first time that night.

"What do you mean we can't?" your voice was only a whisper.

He looked at you like you were crazy. "You're not seriously thinking about having it."

Your mouth went dry, but tears welled up in your eyes. "Well... I do."

Javier's face hardened. "It's not safe, not with what I do, not with Escobar still out there."

"We can figure this out together," you said, your voice quivering. "I-I know this country is dangerous and this is probably not the right time, but is already happening and I..."

"Are you sure you're...?" he began. It hurt you the fact that he couldn't even say it.

You stood up and reached for your purse. He saw you as you placed both the pee and the blood test in front of him.

"Puta madre." Javier stood up, pacing the kitchen. "Did you take the pills?" he demanded.

You nodded. "I do. But they're not a hundred percent effective."

He ran his fingers through his hair in an almost desperate gesture. "I can't do this. Parenting is not on my plans, and you know it."

"I didn't want this to happen either, Javier, and I'm sorry," you said, trying not to cry. "But you need to people to make a baby. So, we have to figure this out together."

"Don't complicate things more," he added. He made his way to the living room, pacing like a caged animal. "Think about the consequences. I can't risk my focus on this job for this."

Tears streamed down your face. "So, what? You want me to get rid of it?"

"I think it's the best option for both of us."

After a long, cold moment of silence, you shook your head, stepping back. "I can't believe you."

He sighed heavily, looking away. "You don't understand... it's too dangerous."

"I don't care," you cried. "I'm gonna have this baby. With or without you."

He sighed. He saw the determination on you. Now he needed to make a decision, since you're not going to change yours.

"Ok," he said finally. "It will happen, but you need to go back to the States."

"No," you sentenced. Javier couldn't believe your stubbornness. "I'm not going to leave, either. I can't leave the school. Those kids need my help."

He was doing his best to not completely lost his patience and say something (more) that he could – and will – regret.

"I can't concentrate on my job and take care of a pregnant woman," he sentenced, adding your name at the end in a way you had never heard before.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your voice. "Well, then don't worry about me. I can handle this on my own."

Javier stared at you, his eyes dark with frustration. He thought of his parents. They didn't raise a man who shirks responsibility, one who doesn't own the consequences of his actions.

For a long moment, the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the kitchen wall. Finally, Javier sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"No," he said. "If that's what you want, fine. You'll have my financial support, but that's all. As soon as you finish your community service, you'll go back home. I'll send you money, that's it."

"I don't want anything from you, Javier. Not if you're not going to do it with real love," you whispered, heartbroken.

Javier's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. He turned away, staring at the wall, his hands clenched into fists.

He looked down, unable to meet your gaze. "I never saw myself as a dad. I don't think I ever will," he admitted. "That's all I can offer. I'm sorry it's not what you expected. I'm sorry I can't be the man you need."

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

Days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Javier seemed to be stuck in a constant struggle of awkward interactions and avoiding each other. He started working even later, and sometimes he didn't even spend the night at the apartment. He came back the next morning smelling like whiskey and cigarettes. When he did sleep at home, he took the couch while you slept on his bed. When you woke up in the morning, he wasn't there.

Both of you finally reached an agreement. You recognized that you needed his help, and he was aware that he had to be responsible for the situation. You moved in with Javier so you wouldn't have to waste money paying rent. Moreover, you would return to the US when you were seven months pregnant. He would conclude his duty in Colombia however long it took. Neither of you wanted to talk about what would happen then.

Your belly was now thirteen weeks along. Soon, Javier found his place filled with baby stuff. Every day he discovered something new you had bought: tiny clothes, maternity clothing, maternity books. His bathroom smelled like the body cream you used to apply on your belly, and there was a list of pregnancy-friendly foods hung on the refrigerator. He could tell you were putting your heart into preparing for the baby, and at times he felt guilty for not being able to find his own paternal instinct.

On the contrary, you were caught in a fragile rhythm. He continued his dangerous work, and you dedicated yourself to your work at school.

Nights were still lonely, but at least you had your baby. You talked and sang to them. You applied anti-stretch mark creams to your belly, and read everything about babies and labor. You were excited to meet your baby boy or girl, but sadly, at the same time, you felt heartbroken because you loved Javier, and you wished he was more present during the process. However, you had to accept that it wasn't mutual. He didn't love you; he never truly did and probably never would. He just liked to fuck. You should have known it before. Maybe you did, but you were so in love with him that you thought you could change him. Either way, it was too late now.

Javier gave you more money than you needed to cover everything you needed. He never said no when you told him you needed medicine, to pay for a doctor's appointment, or special food that didn't provoke nausea.

But he never went to those appointments with you. He never asked how they went, either. He never showed any interest in the progress of your pregnancy. It was as if he had completely detached himself from the situation, leaving you to navigate the journey alone.

Or at least, that was how you saw it. The truth was, Javier was having a difficult time processing the fact that he would be a father. He had never seen himself getting married, let alone having children.

Furthermore, there was something terrifying about having a baby in Colombia during the war he was fighting. He had witnessed men fall, leaving widows and orphans behind.

He realized that he was more scared of leaving you and his child alone in this chaotic and unfair world if something happened to him. Or worse, he feared that you have to pay for his sins and mistakes. He couldn't bear the thought of that, and he often had nightmares about losing you both.

He didn't know how to express his feelings for you. He couldn't let himself relax and just settle into the nest with you.

One of those nights, when he decided to come home earlier after work, he found you sleeping in bed. You had an open book beside you on a page about what to expect during the second trimester. You had fallen asleep in an awkward position, so he had to gently wake you up to help you move into a more comfortable one. You mumbled in your sleep, calling his name softly and sweetly. Javier felt warmth in his chest, a need to cuddle with you, touch your belly for the first time, and hold you and the baby close.

But he just couldn't do it. He didn't know why, but he couldn't. He limited himself to tucking you in with a warm blanket and opening the window for fresh air, as you liked it. He went to the kitchen, filled a glass with water, and put it on your nightstand because he knew you got thirsty in the middle of the night.

Javier observed you for a moment, peacefully sleeping, carrying his baby. He missed your soft lips and your fingers in his hair. He missed making you laugh and talking to you about each other's days. And now, he longed to make things right and try to win your heart back.

Tomorrow, he said. Turning down the lights, he went to his place on the couch.

But tomorrow was too late.

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

He left early in the morning to attend an emergency meeting at the Embassy. Steve spend all morning complaining about Messina and the tie-and-suit motherfuckers, but Javier's thoughts were on you.

He was lost on his own thoughts, trying to find the right words to tell you. He was still scared, but he was determined to try. To make it work.

He was on his desk, a report on his hands but he wasn't reading it, when his landline rang.

"Peña," he picked up.

"Is this Javier?" a woman's voice asked urgently.

"Who's this?"

"This is María from the school," she said. He immediately knew something was wrong. He barely remembered María, you had presented each other last year on your birthday.

"There's been an emergency," she continued explaining, anguish filling her voice. "She's been taken to the hospital."

Javier's heart dropped. "Is she okay?"

"She collapsed in class. They think it might be related to her pregnancy. You need to get to the hospital as soon as you can."

Javier didn't waste a second. He grabbed his jacket and bolted out of the Embassy, ignoring Steve's confused shouts. The drive to the hospital was a blur, his mind racing with fear.

What happened? You were fine last night... Didn't you? He felt a pang of guilt. What if you didn't felt well but you didn't say anything because you thought he would be mad? Fuck... He should be more available for you. You should trust him.

When he finally arrived at the hospital, he rushed to the reception desk, asking for your name. The nurse nodded and directed him to the emergency room. His heart pounded as he approached the doors, dread settling in his stomach.

He found you lying on a hospital bed, pale and hooked up to monitors. The doctor was speaking to a nurse nearby. Javier's throat tightened as he stepped closer.

The doctor noticed him and approached. "Are you related?"

"Yes, how is she?" Javier asked, his voice shaky.

The doctor sighed. "I'm sorry to inform you, but she lost the baby. There was nothing we could do. It was a miscarriage."

Javier felt like the ground had been ripped out from under him. He looked at your unconscious form, tears welling up in his eyes. "Can I see her?"

"Of course, but she's sleeping right now," the doctor said gently. "She's stable now, but you had to sedate her. This has been very traumatic for her."

Javier nodded and moved to your bedside. He took your hand in his, feeling the weight of his own failures crashing down on him. He had failed to protect you, to be there when you needed him the most.

Hours passed as he sat by your side, holding your hand and watching you sleep. When you finally stirred and opened your eyes, he was there. His eyes were teary, reddened from his contained emotions.

"Hey," he whispered, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I'm here," he said, squeezing your hand. "I'm so sorry. I should have been there. I should have done more."

You closed your eyes, tears slipping down your cheeks. "I lost my baby." Your voice was barely a whisper, little sobs escaping your lips. You were still in a haze of sedatives and mourning.

Javier nodded, his heart breaking at the pain in your voice. "I know. I'm so, so sorry."

"No, you don't," you said, hurt and anger painting your weak voice. "You didn't want my baby."

"I was scared," he confessed, his voice cracking. "I didn't know how to handle any of this. But I never wanted this to happen. I never wanted to lose our baby."

You shook your head, tears streaming like rivers down your cheeks. The gaze you gave him was filled with anger and resentment, piercing through his chest.

"Fuck you," you cried.

Javier flinched as if you had struck him. He looked away, unable to bear the intensity of your anger and sorrow.

"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible.

"You never be there for us, so don't come and say you're sorry," your words melted into an unstoppable crying. You felt like if your heart would literally broke into a million pieces. Grief and exhaustion weighing heavily on you, you felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness.

"I know I can't make this right. I know I failed you. But please, let me be here for you now," he pleaded, but there was nothing he could say to soothe your unbearable pain.

"You're a piece of shit, Javier," you spat, your voice trembling with anger and grief. "I don't want to see you ever again."

You turned away from him, your tears flowing freely.

He lingered for a moment, hoping for some sign of forgiveness, but when none came, he slowly left the room, closing the door behind him.

He stood in the hallway, leaning against the wall, feeling the crushing weight of his failures. He had lost not only his child but also the trust and love of the woman who meant more to him than he had ever admitted.

Part 2

[rubra-wav]

Hiya! I absolutely loved your posts about the HH main cast dealing with a sick reader and them being sick. You did a phenomenal job with them!

As for a request, what about Vox, hell’s resident bipedal tv, hc’s of him realizing he’s legitimately falling for reader?

Vox realises he has feelings for you

A/N : Thank you so much seriously!! 💛

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, suggestive comment at one point, angst-ish/ Vox coping

- It'll be a good long time before he realises he's fallen for you, and when he finally does, he's fully in it. There's no turning back and there's no backpedalling. He's absolutely whipped.

- It hits him one day like a train that he's actually in love with you all at once.

- He hung out with you the afternoon, and that night he's laying on his back with his phone gripped in his hand against his chest.

- It's been exactly 3 and a half hours since you were out together on a movie date at the VIP premiere. (as in in the ridiculously lavish movie room he had within Vee tower)

- He had been counting.

- You hadn't texted him back yet, and he was tapping his claw impatiently waiting for you to message him back with the world's biggest pout on his face.

- He'd already sent 4 texts, and none of them had been answered yet. He had to stop himself from sending more because he didn't want to seem too desperate. (Even though he was)

- He told himself he'd be mad that you had made him wait whenever you got back to him. He'd blow up over it.

- However, the second his phone buzzes and he sees the notification from you saying you had fun and were sorry you hadn't gotten back immediately it's like his dopamine receptors have been kicked into absolute overdrive.

- He's giddy. Warmth is flooding his chest, and he starts breathing heavier as the world's dorkiest smile spreads across his face.

- It isn't then that he realises exactly, but it's when you leave to go to sleep after texting him for a couple of hours with a flirtatious comment that has his head spinning and sparking.

- You were talking about how you'd washed your sheets that day and were making your bed. He acted like he was bored, and your next words absolutely took him out.

- "Fine. Next time, come over, and I'll spread you out on my bed then."

- When he calms down, it's messed up again as he's questioning himself.

- Why did I glitch out to them saying something that resembles a shitty pick-up line? Why did I count every minute that passed the second you went home? Why do I feel like I'm on drugs the second you pay me the slightest bit of attention.

- OH FUCK -

- He goes through all stages of grief as he realises he's in love with you in a single second and ends up causing a blackout in his bedroom in the process.

- When he roboots, he holds his head in his hands and chugs delulu juice instantly feels absolutely terrified.

- It's humiliating for him to have such delicate feelings, let alone for someone who surely doesn't feel the same way. His experiences with real, genuine romantic love for other people have hardly ended well.

- He likely tries to distance himself from you because he's scared of the fact he is so attached to you.

- It's been ages and ages of being attached to you but he's only fully realised - or at least fully acknowledged the extent of that attachment.

- His distance from you is shortly lived however as he craves you and your presence so badly he's disgusted at himself.

- He would not be the one to confess 9 times out of 10.

- Even if it's glaringly obvious you are also into him, he copes so fucking hard he's actually delusional with the excuses he makes about it.

- He basically friendzones HIMSELF.

- You could kiss him on the cheek or hold his hands in yours or cup his face lovingly and he would be there glitching while thinking about how you must just be like this with everyone else-

- He's charismatic, charming, and can often read everyone around him like an open book - analyse their behaviours, true intentions, expressions, thoughts under it all, etc.

- But he's so terribly stupid with love.

- You need to confess to him first most likely and he'll probably still think you're bullshitting him.

- Literally finds every reason of why you aren't in love with him and tries to twist everything that way.

- Even when he's in love, he wants it to be reciprocated obviously. The thought of it not being requited as he expects is embarrassing at best.

- But, he's genuinely probably even more terrified of what that means if you do love him back.

- It's easier if you don't love him back for him because he's scared of the way you might further bring out whatever imperfections and vulnerability he's shown you already after actually being in a relationship with you.

- He craves being in a relationship with you and the security you could bring him to expose those parts of himself he desperately conceals with masks resting on masks, but also its deeply unnerving to him simultaneously.

Infuriating watching the process of this man actually realising he's in love for real, honestly 😭

[sonolynn]

What the Fates Allow-C1

summary | You were used to your routine. Tending to drunk men and then the drunken prince, but what happens when he comes to you with an offer.

pairing | Aegon Targaryen x Bastard!Reader

tags | mentions of overconsumption, drunkenness, talks of "whores", not proof read

w.c | 2.0 k

note(s) | I don't think I've mentioned this, but I'm definitely making this out of cannon.

____________________________________________

You stood aimlessly behind the bar, humming softly to yourself as you cleaned the dirty pints in front of you. This was how you spent most of your mornings; cleaning the dirty cups, trays, tables, pints etc etc, only to fill them up later and throw them in the hands of extremely intoxicated men. But, every night came with the same routine. 

Drunk men. 

Filling and empty pints.

Cleaning tables. 

Aegon. 

That was the order in which your night always seemed to go. And you always looked forward to when the drunken prince would stumble his way into the brothel and make his way over to her. There were times when Aegon would find himself in the bed of one of the ladies, but he would always make a point to walk his way over to the bar, sit down, and have a “pint”.

In truth the pint was just water, because you did not wish for him to get sick. 

And, in truth, Aegon knew this, but he indulged you nonetheless. 

“A moment of your time?” Aegon asked softly, a goofy smile on his face as he slid two dragon coins over to you. You rolled your eyes, accepting the coins. 

“And what would you like to discuss today, my prince?” You smiled at him, leaning over the edge of the bar, tilting your head slightly in Aegon’s direction. You had always found him captivating. The premise of how someone could look like they washed their hair in straight olive oil and yet look devilishly handsome always made the gears turn inside of your head. 

“Well…My mother is a raging cunt,” Aegon frowned gently, shrugging as he reached over the bar and grabbed himself a full pint, “and she seems to not like it when I have fun.” 

“You do spend half of the Targaryen wealth on this particular brothel, my prince.” You smiled softly as he drank the pint, knowing you were in for a long night. 

“I do not understand her. She says I ought to be in the library. Studying.” At his words, your eyebrows furrowed. Aegon? With his head inside of some books? That was like asking him to stay sober for more than three hours at a time. 

“For what exactly?” 

“That,” Aegon said while pointing his pint straight at you, “Is exactly what I said. She wants me to study, and yet she will not tell me why. She wants me in the training yard for a war that has not happened in a decade, she wants this, she wants that! It is sickening how much she expects of me, really.” You listened carefully as Aegon spoke. It was often that he would come in and spew his disheartening thoughts about his mother. You had grown to expect it honestly; if it was a day in which Aegon did not come in and rant about his mother, then perhaps it was a good day. 

“She is your mother, my prince-” 

“Aegon.” He corrected. He had a habit of doing such-correcting you in the middle of your thoughts. 

“Aegon,” You spoke teasingly, before bending down and grabbing a dirty tray. “And you are her firstborn. Such things are natural for a mother.”

“And you would know?” Aegon spoke with annoyance, but his face softened slightly as he realized what he said. “Fuck. I’m sorry I-”

“I’m not offended, Aegon. You are right; I do not know what it is like to have a real mother,” You leaned forward, your eyes gazing into his own as you smiled softly. “But what is common knowledge is the fact that mother’s only wish the best for their children. Hence, perhaps, why she has such high standards for you.” 

Aegon went silent at that. He didn’t wish to correct you. You did not know Alicent like he did, obviously; She was his mother, and he lived with her. Yet, it never felt like she had his best in mind. More so, he thought quietly to himself whenever you would say such things, or when his mother would berate him, that she only had survival on her mind; Only thinking of her best, no one else's. 

“Sometimes, I think these standards are too high.” 

“What if you are just not reaching far enough?” 

“Everytime I try to grab at or even meet her standards it is like she raises them!” Aegon angrily slams his drink on the table, his face now slightly flushed. “She does not let me get to these standards of hers. And I do not think I ever will.” His voice faltered, and when you looked up, you noticed the glossy nature of his eyes. You frowned softly and you placed your hand over his, a comforting gesture that wasn’t remotely comforting in a situation like this. 

“Aegon-” “Dont.” He spoke more harshly than he meant to, but you didn’t take offense. You never did. 

“I did not mean to hurt you.” You spoke softly, as if a slight infliction or raise in your tone would set the gates flooding open. 

“You didn’t. You never do.” 

___________________________________________

Aegon sat in his chambers later that evening, his mind reeling with the words you had spoken. He thought to himself over and over again about the way your words felt. 

“What if you are just not reaching far enough?” 

In truth the words stung, they hurt like hell and even though he knew them to be true, he never once thought that they would come from you. 

As he sat, and pondered, he made a silent promise to himself.

He would make everyone around him proud. He would reach as far as he could, strive to be the best. If at all to make you recant your words. Or, he would give up entirely, perhaps run away and sail as far as he could. 

In Aegon’s mind, he seemed to enjoy the latter. The idea of running away and starting a new life with a new name in a new place was seducing beyond comprehension. But, how would he do it? 

___________________________________________

Eat, clean, wash, repeat. You told yourself. You were ready for another boring, dull day. One just like the others, and only continuing the next day. As you were cleaning, Aegon walked in, a set determination on his features. You had never seen him look so determined in the multitude of years that you had been by his side. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you opened your mouth to speak but Aegon shook his head. 

“I have a proposition for you.” He spoke hurriedly. That's when you noticed his attire. The hood around his face, and the shitty clothes that he wore. You had never seen Aegon so dressed down, and never had you expected to see it. 

“A proposition?” You spoke softly, cleaning the mug carefully as you eyed him. His determined face didn’t falter, and before you knew it, Aegon grabbed your hand, and dragged you towards an empty room. Once inside the room you stumbled back, giving him a look. 

“Aegon what is this about? You cannot just drag me away from-” “Run away with me.” He spoke hurriedly, like time was chasing him, which, in truth, it very well could be.  You stared at him for a while, your mind refusing to actually comprehend the fact that a Taragryen Prince just asked you, a barmaid, to run away with him. 

“You jest-”

“Maybe before but not now.” Aegon walked closer to you, gently taking your arms in his calloused hands as he stared you down. “What you said yesterday made me realize that I would never be enough. Not for my father, nor my mother, nor anyone. But you..” He trailed off, staring into your eyes. His heart skipped a beat, at least he thought. He did not know truly. 

“But me..?” The words that came from Aegon’s lips confused you like none other. He had many drunken rants before, but this, even though a “sober” thought, was hard for your mind to comprehend. 

“You think me better than what I was made for.” His voice dropped, and he placed his hands on your face, cupping your jaw with the utmost tenderness. “You are my one true friend.” 

“I do not see how this correlates-” 

“It does! I swear to you it does.” His voice dropped, a pleading and pathetic sound. You didn’t seem convinced. 

“Aegon you’re drunk-” You moved to get away from him, but he grabbed your arm and pulled you close to him. 

“Not this time.” He spoke, his eyes piercing into yours. “You’ve always said your life, as it is now, is just as strenuous as it is boring. It needn't be! Not anymore!” “Aegon, this is ridiculous! You speak nonsense-”

“I have enough money to pay for a ship, or-or a carte ride! One that will take us as far as Winterfell or as far as Dorne.” “The..North? Dorne? Aegon this is madness! You speak of giving up your luxuries, your pleasures-” 

“Pleasures and luxuries be damned, I wish to be free!” He raised his voice slightly, but only a bit. He whispered your name, his eyes softening and his hands itching to touch you. “Free, y/n. Just as you do! If we run away we would never need to know boredom again.” 

You listened to his words, because oh did they sound tempting. Running away with your one friend to a new land and masking new identities. It was thrilling, and it was risky beyond comprehension but you couldn’t shake the feeling of excitement that laced through your veins with every word that he spoke. But, even with the excitement came logical reasoning. 

“Money and coin do not last forever, Aegon.” “ I am a prince. I can get us enough coin to be comfortable for the first couple months. Then, well, then we may work, and trade, just as the common folk do.” 

“You? Work? That is more unbelievable than the notion of running away.” 

“Do not jest with me! Now is not the time for you to jest!” He stared at you, watching you as you mentally went through all the downsides and upsides to running away with him. But, the longer you took the more restless he got. “I am leaving tonight, late in the evening around the twenty-third hour. I will be waiting at the docks. If you come you come, but if you don’t, we will never see each other again.” 

And with that, Aegon gave you one more look over before he rushed himself away, clear on his intentions. 

You stood, absolutely shocked. How dare he? He comes to you whilst you are working and demands that you make a decision in less than a mere few hours? This was a life altering decision, one that very well could get you killed if you were found.  

Maybe it was the adrenaline of getting caught, or the idea of living a life of comfort with your dear friend. Perhaps the latter, perhaps both. But which ever it was, caused you to start packing your bag, taking a few changes of clothes and a necklace, the nicest thing you owned. 

You gave yourself a once over as you threw the hood over your head, staring at the mark on your chin. You ran your finger over it for a moment before you turned, grabbed your bag and left your brothel room for the final time. 

___________________________________________

Aegon stood at the dock, placing two gold coins in the crewmate's palm. The crewmate bowed, a small “thank you, my prince”, before he rushed off. The hour was almost at the twenty fourth, and with a reluctant sigh Aegon tried to mentally prepare himself for the trip alone. But, then he heard your voice. He immediately turned, smiling widely as he saw you. 

You ran up the dock, panting softly as you stood in front of him. 

“I cannot possibly let you drink yourself to death. At least, not alone.”

___________________________________________

AHHHH I have so many fun ideas for this now 🤭

[starlostastronaut]

━ VALENTINE'S DAY WITH STRAY KIDS

PAIRING: stray kids x reader

GENRE: fluff, headcanons

CW: reader is called princess in changbin's, they are all whipped af and spoil their partner to the maximum

a little late, but here we are! just a few headcanons on how i think stray kids would spend valentine's day with you! also using this as a thank you gift for you, because we reached 222 followers which i'm so thankful for ❤️ enjoy reading <3

my masterlist

BANG CHAN

apologizes days in advance because he will be probably busy because of comeback deadlines

has flowers delivered for you multiple time throughout the day with little notes that say how much he loves you

spends two hours on a video call with you to make up for it

when you come home in the evening, there's a candlelit dinner waiting for you

chan is already there, taking off your coat like a gentleman

"i'm sorry i couldn't be with you today but i was preparing a surprise"

this man-

he spend the whole day in the studio making a song for you

when he plays it, you tear up a bit

absolutely will slowdance with you in the living room to the song he wrote for you

LEE MINHO

acts like he forgot it

"do you know what today is?" "wednesday. why?"

he asks you to meet him for breakfast like any casual day

what you don't know that while you're getting breakfast together, he has a secret agent jisung at your place packing your bags

instead of driving you to the school/work how he promised, you end up on the airport

"suprise!"

he booked you a two-day vacation in japan

you can't believe it but it is really not a joke

you pretend to be mad

but the moment you arrive at your destination you're just excited for everything that awaits you

SEO CHANGBIN

starts planning two weeks in advance because he has to beat last year

a two hour long videoconference with wooyoung happened to determine the best valentine's day surprise for you

he has it all planned out

he messages you first thing in the morning to wish you happy valentine's and to tell you he loves you

in the afternoon, he picks up from school/work and you go to your favourite shop

"i'm buying today, pick anything you want princess"

then he prepared a romantic picnic at the han river to end the day together

chan had to talk him out of arranging fireworks for you

HWANG HYUNJIN

the week before valentine's day you barely see him

he was busy painting a portrait to give to you as a gift (he painted the photo of you and him that you have as a phone background)

despite being the resident romantic, hyunjin believes simple and intimate is more than grand gestures

which is why he prepares a seemingly simple dinner with candles and wine

and then it's time for the second present, a set of sexy red lingerie you've been eyeing for a while

it's worth mentioning that the dinner is soon forgotten in favour of other activities

HAN JISUNG

decides to surprise you

instead of simple dinner and flowers he plans a romantic walk to the restaurant

spoiler alert: he gets lost

most of the date is you finding your way back to where you know it

he keeps apologizing but you're having so much fun

it feels like a romantic adventure that has a treasure (dinner) waiting for you

plus you get to hold his hand the whole time because he's scared you'll get separated

you make it to the restaurant an hour and half later and they somehow haven't canceled your reservation, so you can enjoy your dinner

few days later you're already making jokes about the experience, because it's a date you'll remember forever

LEE FELIX

princess treatment all day long

he wakes you up with breakfast in bed

how did he get into your place you still don't know

if it's a work/school day for you, he calls in sick for you so he can spend the whole day with you

it's one surprise after another since

chocolate, flowers, teddy bears... he has it all

he cooked for you and everything

you don't even have to lift a finger, he will do anything you ask him to

just showers you in his love the whole day

definitely makes one of those cheesy valetine's day instagram posts

KIM SEUNGMIN

he was never the one to make a huge deal out of valentine's day, a simple bouquet or chocolate is usually enough

that is until he learns you never had the proper valentine's day experience

he will go out of his way to make sure you get everything there possibly is for your first valentine's day with him

halfway through planning everything he realizes it's pointless since he doesn’t know if you would like it, so he sticks to what he knows

of course he gets you flowers and chocolate, that's a must

but instead of planning anything elaborate, he simply asks what you want to do

in comparision to other members it might be simple, but you spend the whole day doing your favourite activity with seungmin

YANG JEONGIN

scared of both overdoing it and not doing enough

it's his first valentine's day with you, he needs to deliver

asks every single one of his hyungs for advice

ends up taking you the the amusement park

insists on winning the biggest plushie for you

this soon turns into a competition

so now you're alone, anxiously watching the hour pass by while you run from stand to stand trying to win more plushies that jeongin will

when the time is up you meet again and compare your numbers

you won by the difference of two plushies

he complains about the amount of plushies and doesn’t know what to do with them

all of them end up displayed on his bed or somewhere else in his room if they're too big

taglist: (red means i couldn't tag you) @stayconnecteed @bbybearcubbs @kmgfeels @kpopjackie @Aokay1010 @babyphotos0325 @hyunjinshairband7 @feybin @hanjsquokka @stzatzch @palindrome969 @bbokari711 @nujeskz @caitlyn98s @freyjhasdesiredreality @chlodavids @watermelon-mess @kayleefriedchicken @phantombabyy @angelsquid @Jisungsbammey @kangyeonie @lakoya @rylea08 @cookiesandcreammy @kirakombat @azuna-sz @nattisbored @sophias-grove @boldy-49 @traumamama222 @ermahgerd-larry-and-ziam @btskzfav @missmajdastark @oddracha

@lolareadsimagines @vegetablesarefuntables @urfavblondy @ssozzuu @mitchii

©starlostastronaut 2024 | do not repost/translate my work without permission