#trying to get back into the pace of writing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

runningincircl3s · 3 days ago

Text

Who Are You?

Kickboxer!Noah x Reader

Chapter Five

chapter warnings: i don't want to spoil anything but i think it's important for me to mention reader does NOT have an eating disorder!! she's just anxious!! a little nsfw? just a comment from matt tho!! i put too much of myself into reader

masterlist ♡ can i just say thank you sooo much for the love on this fic already it's actually crazy??? the idea for this has been on my mind for months (not to expose myself here but it's been my bedtime scenario to help me sleep for so long lmao) so i'm just happy that i can sit here and giggle and kick my feet whilst i write this and people can feel the same when they read it!! :)

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

Minutes ago...

“You're sure this is a good idea?” Kylie asked, her heels tapping quickly against the hallway floor as she attempted to keep up with James' pace- but right now he was a man on a mission, and he was not slowing down for anyone.

“Of course!" He grinned, turning to face her, "Worst case, we say we forgot she had plans. Best case?” He smirked, “We catch them being horny and weird, and we get to make fun of her forever!”

Kylie stopped in front of the door and fished around in her bag for her spare key, whilst James pressed his ear up against the door, listening.

“I can hear something. Are they... laughing?” His brows furrowed as he waved a hand for Kylie to join him.

“Probably-“

THUMP

“What was that?” James gasped, wide eyed.

Kylie grinned and shoved the key into the lock

“Let’s find out.”

The door slowly creaked open.

Kylie stepped in first and immediately froze. James bumped into her shoulder as he followed behind.

“What-“

And then he froze too...

Because on the couch, front and centre stage, barely five feet away from them, was you and Noah.

Or you straddling Noah, his hand on your hips, your forehead against his shoulder.

James blinked, before turning to Kylie to whisper.

“Are they-“

“OH MY GOD,” Kylie shrieked, not bothering to keep quiet as she sounded somewhere in between thrilled and horrified. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

You yelped, recoiling like you’d been caught stealing candy.

“KYLIE?!”

Noah groaned under his breath, already covering his face with one hand like he’d foreseen this exact scenario in a nightmare.

James stared, wide eyed in stunned silence, and then calmly said.

“Are you… dry humping him on the couch?”

You scrambled upright, bashing your leg into the coffee table in your rush to escape.

“OW FUCK! No! I- we were sparring!”

“Are you sure?” Kylie asked sweetly. “Because it kinda looked like you were trying to fuck him into the upholstery.”

“Jesus Christ.” Noah mumbled under his breath as he sat up.

“Your form was solid, though." James said as he took a step forward, "Good hips.” He nodded, his hand stroking his chin as if he were a judge on a TV show, "Only thing I'd say you could improve on is-"

“JAMES,” you shrieked. “GET OUT!! BOTH OF YOU!!!”

They both giggled as they backed out of the door. You rushed to slam it shut behind them, making it rattle in its frame.

And for a minute, all you could do was stand there, your back to the room, hand still on the door handle.

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even look at him.

You’d never wanted the floor to swallow you more in your entire life.

You had just been on top of him in front of your best friends.

Oh god. You were never going to hear the end of this.

You thought you should say something to Noah, though you weren't entirely sure what you should say in a situation like this. So, you swallowed hard, your throat burning as you opened your mouth.

“I…” you said, finally turning just enough for him to hear you speak, your eyes still locked firmly on the floor. “You can have a shower if you want. Or… you can just go. It’s fine.”

For a moment, Noah didn’t move. He didn’t say anything.

And you still couldn’t look at him.

Your heart pounded so loudly in your chest that you could barely hear how suffocating the silence actually was. You tucked your hands into the sleeves of your gym shirt, as if that could help you.

“I’m really sorry,” you said, voice quieter now. “About everything. About them. About… that.”

Still, nothing.

You peeked up at him for the briefest second.

He was sitting exactly as you’d left him, on the edge of the couch, head in his hands, forearms resting on his knees. His brows were drawn tight, his lips pressed into a line, eyes fixed somewhere on the carpet, far away. He looked like he was thinking too hard.

And then he got up. He quickly threw his hoodie on and grabbed his gym bag.

“Save it. I’m the one who should be sorry.” He mumbled as he passed you on the way to the door.

He didn’t look your way once. He just reached for the handle with no hesitation.

And left.

…

You didn’t text him all week, and he didn’t text you either.

Not that you expected him to, he looked pretty pissed when he left and that only made you feel more awful about it all. You made him uncomfortable, and now you were afriad he would never talk to you again- because this time he actually had a valid reason.

Every time you unlocked your phone, you thought about texting him. But you didn't know what to say... Hey, its me, sorry! or Did I ruin everything? or Sorry you had to push me off your lap in front of my best friends, still up for class on Tuesday?

A few days later, your friends came over to make up for that night. But they noticed you weren't yourself, and they admitted to feeling guilty about it, but you reassured them it had nothing to do with them, and everything to do with you.

“Has he texted you yet?” Kylie asked gently as she handed you a cup of tea, as if she didn’t already know the answer. You couldn't even look at the tea. It reminded you of him. How he had let you try his, how he had paid for you at the café, how you had screwed everything up before it could even start.

You shook your head, placing the mug down onto the table before curling deeper into the blanket cocoon you’d wrapped around yourself on the couch.

“Nope.”

“Are you going to text him?”

“Nope.”

She gave you a look, crossing her arms as she stood above you.

“Babe.”

“I can’t,” you groaned. “What if he thinks I’m still trying to... I don’t know, hump him on the couch again?!”

James popped his head in from the kitchen, a spoon hanging out of his mouth.

"I'm sure he'd happily accept, did you see the look on his face? I thought he was about to-"

“JAMES!”

“I’m just saying." He shrugged, a grin creeping up on his face, "I'm sure he'd love for you to "fall" on top of him again.”

“Don’t listen to him.” Kylie rolled her eyes as she sat down on the couch beside you.

You groaned and buried your face in the blanket.

“I’m going to cancel my gym membership. I'm never showing my face there again.”

“No,” Kylie said firmly. “You’re not.”

You peeked at her through a little slit in the blanket.

“You can’t stop me!”

“I can,” she replied, tugging the blanket away from your face, “And I will. You love that gym, and you love kickboxing. You finally found something you enjoy and you’re good at, and you’re going to throw it away because you dry humped your hot trainer on a Tuesday?”

“I didn’t-”

“You did.” James called from the kitchen. “And it was hot!”

“Shut up, James!”

Kylie leaned in, lowering her voice.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. Neither did he. You tripped and things escalated from there. And I thought you said he was the one who encouraged you to move... on him."

"I thought so, but what if I was wrong? He kept telling me not to move, even when I was trying to get off of him but then that happened... And then you guys walked in. You weren't even supposed to be coming, and I told him that! I'm just worried I made him mad, he couldn't even look at me before he left."

“Babe,” Kylie said gently, “Noah’s not mad. He probably left because he panicked, not because he didn’t like it.”

"So why hasn't he texted me?"

"Why haven't you texted him?"

You stayed quiet, chewing your lip.

“You’re not cancelling your gym membership,” she said again. “You’re going to go to the next class like a grown up and face it. And if he acts weird, then he’s the problem. Not you.”

You stayed buried in the blanket, but your voice was soft when it came out.

“…Will you walk me there?”

“Of course.” Kylie smiled.

...

You’d been anxious all day. You didn't sleep the night before, you couldn’t eat, you couldn’t focus at work. You couldn’t stop thinking about that damn night, and regretting every moment of it.

Your apartment was a mess, responsibilities you've ignored over the last few days were piling up, both clean and dirty laundry piled on the dining table, dishes filled the sink, but all you’d done for the last hour was sit on the edge of your bed, staring at the hand wraps Noah let you borrow last week. The ones you didn't get a chance to give back before he left.

You had taken better care of them than you had yourself for the last few days, you googled if they needed washing, what to use and how to clean them correctly, what's the right way to dry them...

Now, they sat in your lap like they weighed a hundred pounds.

You told yourself that if things went wrong tonight, if he glared at you from across the room, if he ignored you, acted like he hated you, then you were simply only there to return them to him. You'd hand them back. Say thanks. Leave. Cancel your gym membership. Move across the planet.

It was barely a plan. But it was the only thing holding you together right now.

A sudden knock at the door made you flinch, pulling you back from your thoughts as you tossed the wraps down onto your bed and made your way across you apartment to open it.

You could already hear James' voice from the other side of the door. And as you slowly pulled it open, you were met with two overly happy best friends.

Kylie was leaning against the doorframe behind him, arms folded, and James was stood directly in front of you, holding two coffees, you already knew one would be used as some kind of bribe.

“You ready?” Kylie asked, noticing how you were already in your gym clothes.

“Absolutely not.” You shook your head, but just as you were about to shut the door on them, something got in your way.

It was James' arm. Holding out a coffee.

“Drink this, put some shoes on and grab your bag.”

...

You barely spoke on the way out of your apartment, because you still weren't sure this was a good idea. The walk to the gym was barely even five minutes, but it was long enough to feel your life flash before your eyes.

James continued to sip his coffee, oblivious to your meltdown, whereas Kylie kept glancing over at you- probably to check up on you, though you thought she was making sure you hadn't ran away in the time it took her to push the main door open.

You took a deep breath as you stopped at the curb opposite the gym. It felt like you hadn't been here in years, when only two weeks had passed.

“I can’t go in." You whispered, shrinking into your hoodie like it might shield you.

“You can,” Kylie said, looping her arm through yours. “And you will.”

“What if he ignores me?”

“Then he's an asshole and he doesn't deserve you." She said simply, already steering you toward the crossing.

The light turned green, but you didn't budge.

“Come on.” Kylie tugged your arm.

“I’ll throw up!”

“You won’t.”

“I’ll cry!”

“You might. But that's okay.”

Your feet stayed rooted.

“Kylie-”

Kylie gave James a nod, and he quickly grabbed your other arm, coffee still in hand, and the two of them physically dragged you across the street.

“KYLIE. JAMES. STOP!!”

“Relax,” James waved his hand. “No one even knows what you did. Except us. And Noah. And the couch. And maybe even Aaron, depending on where you hid him.”

You groaned, the building was growing closer with every forced step.

The doors were right there now. Right in front of you.

You knew you had to do this, because what's the worst that could happen? Your life would go back to the way it was 6 months ago, and Noah would find a new girl to teach, to tease, to hold-

That was all the motivation you needed. Suddenly, you feet were moving before you could even attempt to stop, and you had made it into the gym.

As the glass doors slid shut behind you, you turned back to your friends, giving them an unsure wave.

But, as you reached the door to the usual room, you hesitated.

You peeked through the glass panel on the door, just to see if he was there- and yep! You spotted him immediately.

He was across the room, standing in his usual spot, your usual spot, but he was laughing with two guys you didn’t really recognise. They’ve never been here before. Noah looked genuinely happy, like he didn't have a care in the world, and you don't know why that stung the way it did.

Your fingers tightened around the strap of your gym bag, wondering whether or not to leave. You could slip out and nobody would notice. Noah certainly didn't look like he was bothered by your absence.

But you couldn't leave. Not with his hand wraps in your pocket. Or else you’d be reminded of him every time you saw them in your drawer of shame, along with your crochet hooks and acrylic nail kits, and other items from hobbies you had given up on a long time ago.

You swallowed hard, forcing your legs to move, forcing your arms to reach out just enough to push the door open.

Your shoes tapped lightly against the floor as you crossed the room, weaving between bodies, keeping your eyes on him.

You felt more nauseous with every step, and as soon as he was in arms reach, you felt a little light headed, like you might pass out.

You took a breath, barely holding it together as you reached him. You tapped his arm gently, his skin warm under your cold fingertips.

“Noah?” Your voice came out small, a little unsure, but he quickly turned to face you. “Can we… talk?”

For a second, he looked like he wasn’t sure what to say... but before he could answer, Tasha's voice rang across the gym.

“Alright everyone, warm up time! Partners or solo, let’s go!”

Your heart sank. But Noah gave a small, apologetic tilt of his head, offering you a softer look this time, one that was more familiar, more him.

“After class,” he promised quietly. “I’ll find you.”

You barely had time to nod before he was tugged away by one of his friends, the one with the beard and darker hair, leaving you alone.

Great!

With a sigh, you shrugged off your hoodie and dropped your bag by your usual spot on the bench. After a quick sip of water, you began to stretch near the edge of the mats. Everyone else had already partnered up, pairs sprawled across the room, laughing, bouncing lightly on their feet, and there you were. Alone.

You bent to fix your shoes, fiddling with the laces, when a voice spoke beside you.

“You wanna partner up?”

You glanced up.

One of Noah's friends, the one with the slight baby face, smiled at you. His hair was dirty blonde, and you noticed how one of his arms was completely covered in tattoos, matching the one fully covered leg.

"Sure!" You straightened, blinking.

With a kind smile, he held out a hand.

“I'm Matt.”

...

You swiped the back of your wrist across your forehead, the warm up had been a little more intense today, and you already felt a little sticky with sweat.

You had been trying your best to ignore Noah, and it had been working so far. You hadn't glanced his way once, and every time you could hear his voice, you blocked it out- or tried to at least.

But now you needed a drink. You wandered over to the where you left your bottle and took a sip before leaning against the wall to catch your breath. That’s when you noticed Matt struggling to wrap his hands. You spotted how one hand was wrapped too loose, and the other was looking like a tangled shoelace.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that slipped out, and Matt’s head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as you approached, still smiling to yourself.

“Need some help?” You asked, already reaching for the wrap.

Matt made a face, you couldn’t tell if he was somewhat amused or offended.

“It’s harder than it looks, alright.” He said, watching your hands.

You chuckled under your breath, gently taking his left hand, fingers brushing his wrist as you started unravelling the mess.

“You’ve got them a little twisted,” you explained, smoothing the fabric out. “You’ll cut your circulation off if they’re like that.”

“You seem to know what you’re doing.” He pointed out.

You shrugged, carefully looping the wrap across his knuckles, the way Noah had shown you a dozen times now.

You were even slightly surprised you knew what you were doing. But Noah didn’t have to know you knew how to do it, you liked the way he did it for you.

“I had a good teacher.”

Matt thought nothing of it at first, and you finished wrapping his hands. You let yourself glance over at Noah now, just the once, and you kinda wished you didn't. He had just slipped his black gloves on, his chest was still rising and falling pretty quickly from the warm ups, and he was grinning at whoever his other friend was. His hair had fallen over his eyes a little, his biceps looked a little too biteable-

"I think we should spar," Matt said, making you flinch as he pulled you out of your Noah induced daze, "But you'll have to go easy on me, I'm still pretty new at this."

"Yeah," you nodded, your pulse still racing, your cheeks still slightly hot from looking at the guy across the room, "We should."

You both slipped on a pair of gloves, and then you looked at Matt... You tilted your head, giving him an unimpressed once over. His stance was okay, but his feet were too wide apart, shoulders too tight. You knew it wasn’t going to work.

“You’re gonna fall like that.” You pointed out, stepping closer before he could argue.

Matt’s brows lifted, but he didn’t argue as you nudged at his foot with yours to adjust his position.

He stayed perfectly still, watching you with amused eyes as your hand skimmed down his arm, gently repositioning his elbow and wrist.

“Getting real hands on already,” he murmured, grin widening. “If I’d known you were this friendly, I’d have showed up sooner.”

You laughed softly, giving his shoulder a quick push to test his balance.

“If you showed up sooner I probably wouldn’t have had to correct you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he chuckled, rolling his neck, “Show me what you got!”

And you did exactly that.

You both sparred for a while, dodging each others moves, laughing as you kept him on his toes. It was clear he wasn’t expecting you to be so good at this, and in all honesty neither were you. You dodged nearly every hit he threw, slipping just out of range, each time his frustration growing more obvious.

“Okay…” Matt exhaled, shaking his head as you ducked another jab, your grin only growing. “You’re way better than I thought.”

“Like I said, I had a good teacher.” You shrugged, your gaze meeting Noah's for just a moment.

Matt’s eyes shot across the room for the briefest second, then, a knowing smirk crawled across his lips.

“Oh… you’re that y/n,” he muttered, stepping forward faintly, “Yeah… Noah always talks about you.”

“He does?” You raised an eyebrow.

Matt didn’t reply right away, he continued to move, forcing you to follow. His grin widened, cocky now.

“All the time… y’know he never really cared too much about the gym before, but now he makes sure he doesn’t miss this class if he can help it. He said he trains with a pretty girl…” His voice dropped to a more teasing tone. “But you should hear him when he gets home… we’ve got paper thin walls.”

He let the words hang, a slow smirk spreading across his face as he watched your guard slowly drop before he continued.

“Your names real familiar by now, I thought I was just hearing things the first few nights,” he added. “Turns out, he’s not exactly quiet when he’s thinking about you.”

Your breath hitched, heart picking up speed. Matt’s grin only widened as he dodged your wobbly jab effortlessly.

“Yeah… one sleepless night was all it took for me to figure out what kind of ‘training’ goes on in his head,” he said. “Can’t unhear it now.”

Before you could respond, he made a move since your guard was down. It was just a quick kick that caught your side, but it knocked you off balance. You stumbled, laughing as you landed hard on your ass.

Matt grinned down at you.

“Gotcha!”

“You asshole!” You chuckled, reaching out for his hand as he offered to help you up.

But just as you made it back to your feet, you heard his voice.

“Swap with me.” It wasn’t a question, Noah was already tugging his gloves off.

“Noah?" Your brows furrowed.

“Dude, I didn’t mean to-“

“Don’t care. You’re with Davis now.” He said, already taking Matts place on the mat.

Matt rolled his eyes, but seemingly knew better than to fight.

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, giving you a small smile and a gentle wave as he wandered off.

“Are you okay?” Noah asked, his voice laced with panic as he turned his attention back to you. “That looked like it hurt.”

“Noah, I’m fine. Really. He didn’t knock me down, I slipped… You know what I’m like.”

“But he caught you off guard, he shouldn’t have done that.”

He was right. He did catch you off guard…

One sleepless night was all it took for me to figure out what kind of ‘training’ goes on in his head…

“C’mon, let’s take a break.” Noah nodded towards the benches by the side of the mat.

You didn’t fight him. Mostly because your lower back was already starting to throb from where you hit the floor, and the adrenaline was wearing off quick.

The second you sat down, you winced. You shifted a little, but it was enough for Noah to notice, his brows furrowing immediately.

“Where?”

“Where what?” You blinked.

“Where does it hurt?” His tone left no room for argument, his gaze sweeping over you like he was assessing every inch for damage.

“It’s nothing.” You tried to say, but he was already crouching in front of you, his hands- still wrapped but he had ditched the gloves now- were resting lightly on your knees, waiting for permission to check.

He tilted his head, eyes softer now as he said it again.

"Tell me where it hurts."

Your cheeks flushed.

"Just... near the bottom of my back."

“That’s what I thought.” He said, stepping over the bench so he could get behind you. His thumb carefully brushed the hem of your shirt, “Lift this a little?”

You swallowed, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled your shirt up. His thumb gently dipped beneath the waistband of your leggings, moving them down just the slightest bit, just enough for him to see the faint mark blooming across your skin.

His jaw flexed. His thumb traced the space just beside the bruise, never on it, never pressing.

“He shouldn’t have done that.” Noah muttered under his breath, more to himself than to you as he stepped back over the bench.

“It was my fault, I wasn't paying attention-”

“No, it wasn’t.” He said, crouching down to your level. “You don’t blame yourself for that.”

You weren’t sure what to say, so you settled for a weak smile.

“Stay here,” he said, standing. “I’ll grab some more water.”

When Noah returned with two bottles of water, sitting beside you on the bench, something had changed. Now that you weren’t on the floor in pain, you had both remembered.

He handed you the bottle, but neither of you spoke.

You both sat there in silence, you were thinking of how to word what you wanted to say, and so was he. In all the weeks of coming to the gym and seeing Noah, nothing had ever felt as awkward as it did right now. Not even the time you misjudged and kicked him in the balls.

It was just too quiet.

You fiddled with the bottle cap, twisting it open and taking a sip just to avoid saying what you knew was coming. Noah ran a hand through his hair, his own bottle untouched.

Then, finally, when you both spoke at once.

“So about last week-”

“I should probably explain-”

You both cut off, blinking at each other, the corner of his mouth lifting with a little awkward grin.

“Sorry." You mumbled, laughing under your breath.

“No, you first.” He offered, voice lower and quieter than usual- nervous perhaps, though he hid it pretty well.

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek before glancing at him.

“I… thought you were avoiding me.”

“I thought you were avoiding me.” He said, his eyebrows raised in surprise, and a little amusement.

You breathed a soft laugh, fiddling with the thumb hole in your sleeve.

“I wasn’t. I was just… embarrassed, and I thought you wouldn't want to talk to me again.”

He tilted his head slightly.

“Why?”

“Because…” You looked away, staring down at the bottle in your hands, thumb running over the ridges of the plastic. “Because my friends barged in, and it was embarrassing for me. And I thought it was for you too, and then you couldn't even look at me afterwards... I thought I made you mad."

Noah stayed quiet for a second, his gaze fixed on you, though you were still looking down at your bottle. After a moment, you heard him exhale softly, like he was trying to ease something off his chest.

“You didn’t make me mad,” he said, his voice gentle, "Not at all."

You peeked up at him. His brows furrowed a little as he sat back, water bottle resting loose in his hands.

“I couldn’t look at you,” he admitted, the faintest edge of embarrassment touching his tone, “Because I thought I messed it up.”

"Messed what up?” You frowned.

“That night,” he said, gaze dropping to the ground for a second before meeting yours again. “I should’ve asked before I touched you like that. I wasn’t thinking straight… And when they walked in, I saw your face, I thought... I thought I pushed you too far. You looked… I don’t know. Scared. Like you regretted it.”

“Noah,” you whispered, shaking your head quickly, “I wasn’t scared. And I didn’t regret it.”

He didn’t answer right away, but the tension in his shoulders eased a little, though hus eyes searched yours like he wasn’t sure if he could believe you yet.

“I didn’t stop you,” you added softly, the words barely above a whisper, "Because I wanted it too."

Noah was quiet for a moment, like he was taking your words in. Then, with a little nod of his head, he hummed.

“Okay,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Well, I'm glad we're both idiots.”

You laughed at that, nodding your head as you felt the weight on your chest finally lift for the first time in days.

"We are."

Now, the silence between you felt comfortable. You sighed contently, like you could finally breathe.

However, the silence didn't last for long. Because your stomach decided now was the perfect time to let out a long, humiliating growl!

grrrrrhrggghhhg

Your eyes widened in horror, and you felt your cheeks heat in embarrassment. Noah’s brows raised slightly.

"Are you hungry?" He asked, his voice soft as his eyes met yours again.

You opened your mouth to deny it on instinct, but his head tilted knowingly, cutting you off before you could speak.

“Don’t lie,” he murmured, eyes narrowing in playful warning. “I’ve been watching you. You've not been yourself, your hands are shaky and you let Matt knock you on your ass… how long’s it been since you ate?”

"Last night," you confessed, fiddling with your bottle again, "I've felt too sick, too nervous to eat all day. I've been worrying about seeing you, I was worried you wouldn't want to talk to me."

“Hey,” he said gently, his voice softening. “I told you… I’m the idiot who thought you wouldn’t wanna talk to me.”

Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, but you couldn’t.

Noah exhaled softly, eyes still steady on yours before he leaned down, reaching for his gym bag beside the bench. After a moment of rummaging, he pulled out a protein bar, the wrapper slightly crumpled but still intact.

"This is all I've got," he said, sounding almost a little disappointed , like he genuinely wished he could pull a full meal out of his gym bag for you, "I guess it's better than nothing."

You smiled faintly, your nerves unraveling just enough to let a breathier laugh slip out.

“It’s fine,” you murmured, reaching for it, “Thank y-”

But before your fingers could brush the wrapper, he held it just out of reach, brow raised, the corner of his mouth curving ever so slightly.

“Only if you let me take you to dinner after class." He bargained softly, "Wherever you want."

My bed?

Your lips parted, eyes darting between his and the protein bar like you were considering the terms of a contract.

“It doesn’t have to be a date,” he added, “I already told the guys I’ll drop them home so I'll do that first... then we’ll get food. Is that okay? You can still have the protein bar if you say no by the way.”

The sincerity in his tone made your heart warm. You nodded once, small but certain, and he finally handed over the bar.

“Good.” He smiled.

You hesitated, eyeing the wrapper suspiciously, then took a cautious bite… and instantly grimaced.

“Oh my god,” you mumbled around the dry, chalky mouthful, “I've had one of these before... and I swore I'd never touch one again!"

Noah chuckled under his breath, stealing the rest from your hand and finishing it off himself with zero hesitation.

"Dunno what you mean, they're delicious!" He teased, though it was clear he was trying not to scrunch his face up.

Despite everything, you smiled, settling back on the bench beside him, shoulders brushing slightly. For the first time all week, you could actually breathe.

"I'd ask if you want to get back on the mats," Noah said, looking over at where you had left your gloves, "But I don't want to risk you passing out on me."

"Wouldn't be my most graceful moment." You laughed softly, nudging his shoulder.

Noah's lips parted, like he was about to say something. Then, his eyes drifted across the room towards his friends. They looked like they were meant to be sparring, but instead they were messing around, seeing who could wrap their arms and legs around a punching bag and stay on for the longest.

"Okay," Noah sighed under his breath, "If they don’t wanna be sensible..." He stood, grabbing both your gym bags without asking, slinging his own over his shoulder. "We’re leaving."

"You sure?" You asked, standing slowly.

"They’re barely training, you nearly fainted, and I promised you food. Let’s go."

You smiled, following him across the mats as he called out to the other two.

"We’re done. Grab your stuff."

Matt groaned dramatically but obeyed, the darker haired one- you heard Noah say his name was Davis- shrugging as they followed on behind you.

You didn’t miss how all three of them were wearing something with the words Bad Omens on it... Noah's shorts had the name printed down the side, Matt had a black hoodie with a design on the back, and Davis wore a tshirt with the name on the front. It could've bene a coincidence, but you've noticed Noah seems to wear a lot of things with that name on...

"What's a Bad Omens?" You asked, eyeing the clothes. "You guys in some sort of cult?"

"You could say that," Davis snorted, "But no, it's a band that we're all... fans of."

"Like... a boyband?" You chuckled, watching Matt's smirk grow even more mischievous.

"Metal band." Davis clarified with a nod of his head.

"Yeah but the lead singer? He's pretty enough to be in one, isn't that right, Noah?"

"I... uh..."

You looked over at him, intrigued.

“You a fan too?”

"Yeah... something like that." Noah said, but thankfully this conversation ended as you reached the car- and now Matt and Davis were arguing over the front seat.

“Hey, you sat in the front on the way here!”

“Yeah only cos you walked!”

“So it should be me-“

“I’m older.”

“It’s Noah’s fucking car!”

"Guys, calm the fuck down," Noah interrupted, unlocking the car with a click. His hand pressed lightly to your lower back as he guided you toward the passenger side. "She’s got the front."

Ignoring the guys groans, you slid into the passenger seat, still hyper aware of the warmth of Noah’s hand as it drifted off your back, his touch lingering on your skin long after it was gone. The door clicked shut beside you, and you stared at the dashboard for a second, completely frozen.

You were in Noah’s car.

Noah’s car.

The inside smelled a little like him, you definitely needed to find out what cologne he uses. His hoodie was on the drivers seat, you assumed he took it off just as he got out earlier. He threw his and your gym back into the back with the guys, where you could hear Matt and Davis still bickering as they piled in behind you, but it all felt muffled compared to the way your pulse thundered in your ears.

You were in Noah’s car.

The guy you only knew as the hot gym guy just months ago!

Breathe. Just breathe.

You shifted awkwardly, gripping your seatbelt with shaky hands, fingers fumbling as you tried to clip it in. Noah slid into the driver’s side, glancing your way, one brow raising faintly as he caught your expression.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice laced with amusement like maybe he already knew exactly why you looked ready to combust.

You forced a little nod, swallowing hard as you clicked the seatbelt into place.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, cheeks burning. “Just… y’know… your car.”

A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth as he started the engine.

“Yeah, you like it?” He teased.

...

After dropping the guys off, the car was noticeably quieter... You sat in the passenger seat, picking at your nails as Noah pulled away from the curb.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just one hand on the wheel, the other relaxed on the gear stick. The radio played quietly, which you were thankful for, glad you weren't sat together in complete silence.

“Where d’you wanna go?” He asked, glancing over at you. You were a little surprised at how gentle his voice was.

You opened your mouth, but your brain faltered. You couldn’t think. The nerves from earlier were still sat in your chest, and being in his car next to him wasn't exactly helping. You weren’t even sure what you felt like eating.

“I…” you hesitated, shaking your head with a small shrug of your shoulders. “I dunno.”

Noah’s eyes were back on the road, but his lips curved into a small smile.

“That’s alright,” he replied, steering easily through the traffic. “I’ve got somewhere in mind... It’s nothing fancy. Just somewhere I like to go when I’m home.”

When I'm home.

You frowned slightly, because that's not the first time he had said that. Where else would he go? You already guessed he travelled a lot for work, so just assumed he meant that, and you nodded.

“Okay.”

The ride wasn’t long. Maybe five, ten minutes tops. But it felt longer with how aware you were of him, and how close he was- as if you weren't sat on top of him last week.

Eventually, he pulled into a small parking lot beside a little building with soft lighting spilling from the windows. It wasn’t what you expected, though you didn't even know what you were expecting.

The place was small, but it was inviting. It looked cozy from the outside, and that was confirmed as you followed him in. The lighting was warm, the sound of chatter and laughter filled the air, along with the smell of food, which made your stomach grumble once again.

The waiter by the door didn’t even ask for a name. Just a nod at Noah, like they knew him well, and you were led to a booth tucked near the back by a window.

You both sat down, giving the waiter your drinks order before he left.

And now here you were, sat across from Noah at a small, worn in table, menu in hand, eyes darting nervously between the list of food and him.

Noah sat casually, forearms resting on the table as he thumbed through the menu.

You, on the other hand, were barely skimming the options.

It wasn’t even the food. It was him... His presence, the soft look in his eyes, how nervous you suddenly felt around him.

You had felt this way before, but every time you had ever caught feelings for someone, it was never reciprocated- and if it was, it was only an act so they could get in your pants. But here you were, sat across from a guy who genuinely seemed to care about you, and the thought of him possibly feeling the same way as you made your heart do something you couldn't explain.

You hadn't even noticed you'd been staring blankly at the menu, not reading it. You'd been in a world of your own, and you quickly managed to snap yourself out of it and looked at the options.

Cheeseburgers. Fries. Onion rings. Mac and cheese. Double bacon cheeseburgers. It all sounded delicious... if you were sat at home by yourself in front of the tv, but the thought of ordering something like this in front of Noah made you feel a little uneasy.

And, of course, Noah noticed. His gaze lifted, head tilting slightly as he set his menu down.

“What’s wrong?”

His voice startled you slighlty, fingers tightening around the laminated page.

“Nothing!”

He didn’t buy it. His stare didn’t waver, but his expression softened, as did his voice.

“Talk to me.”

Your throat tightened, cheeks warming as you exhaled slowly, admitting under your breath,

“I don’t… know what to get.”

The words barely made it past your lips, but he caught them.

“That’s okay,” he leaned forward a little, his hand resting casually near yours on the table, like he was wanted to touch you but held back. “You’ve never been here before.”

You bit your lip, heart racing embarrassingly fast. Noah let the quiet stretch a moment longer, eyes searching yours before adding gently,

“Would you like me to order for you?”

The softness and sincerity in his voice made it hard to say no. So, despite the feeling in your chest, you nodded your head.

"Okay... yeah."

A small grin spread across his face, subtle but enough for you to notice, and your heart to skip a beat.

The menu stayed in your lap, mostly forgotten about, your fingers fidgeting with the corner as Noah caught the attention of the waiter.

You half expected him to just order his own food twice, but instead he almost listed off the whole menu. Two different burgers. Chicken nuggets. Fries. Onion rings. Even a side of wings, and also requested some different sauces.

You blinked, glancing up at him as the waiter scribbled everything down and walked off.

“That’s… a lot." You almost whispered, your voice quieter than you meant it to be.

Noah leaned back in the booth, casually draping his arm along the backrest, eyes fixed on yours- god he's so fucking hot.

“Yeah.” He nodded, like it was obvious. “No pressure that way, you can have whatever you want.”

You felt like your heart was going to burst with the amount of pure love you felt for this man.

You almost felt yourself begin to tear up- sure, it was just a simple gesture, all he did was order a bunch of things from the menu, but he did it for you. To make sure you had a choice, that there was at least one thing you liked.

“Noah, you didn’t have to-”

“I wanted to.” His eyes softened as he spoke, “Figured it’s easier than stressing over what to order… and before you say you weren’t, I could tell. You always get quiet when you’re overthinking, something I noticed during that first class.”

Your stomach did a silly little flip at that, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. You looked away, tucking your hands into your lap.

He’d noticed. And instead of blatantly pointing it out, making it worse, he made it easier.

The food didn’t take long to come, and in the time it took you had been telling Noah all about your week, and your asshole of a boss. But then, the table was filled with plates, a basket of fries, burgers stacked high, golden onion rings- it all smelled incredible, and your stomach agreed, growling loudly enough that Noah huffed a soft laugh under his breath.

“See,” he teased, already reaching for one of the burgers, sliding the basket of fries toward you, “It smells good, right?”

You reached for a fry, hesitating a little, but Noah didn’t rush you. He didn’t say anything, just started eating his own food. You nibbled at the fry, glancing up at him across the table.

He caught your gaze and smirked faintly, nodding toward the rest of the food.

“Try this,” he said, not long after, holding half of his burger out toward you, it did look delicious. “It’s good!”

You hesitated again, but he was so patient with you. Your heart fluttred as you leaned forwards, taking a bite. Noah watched you carefully, smirking as you hummed softly in approval.

“Good, right?” He said as he pulled the burger back. “Told you.”

You nodded, still chewing, smiling despite yourself. The nerves didn’t completely vanish, but they eased enough for you to actually eat and enjoy the food, your appetite growing again.

…

You weren’t even sure how it happened, but between the two of you, every plate on the table was empty after about 20 minutes- besides the spicy wings, which you pulled a face at when you tried, and Noah teased you for it. You were comfortably full now, slouched just slightly in your seat, fingers lazily chasing the last few fries in the basket.

Noah watched you, elbows resting on the table, silently taking in how comfortable you looked now compared to earlier. You peeked up, catching the way his lips had curved into a small, warm smile.

“What?” You asked, wiping your hands with a napkin.

“Nothing.” He said with a gentle tilt of his head, his eyes warming as they met yours, along with his heart.

Your brows furrowed, but his smile only grew as he leaned in a little more.

“Just proud of you,” he expressed, voice a little quieter now. “I know you weren’t feeling yourself earlier.”

Your mouth hung open a little, and you didn't trust yourself to speak as you noticed how his words made your tummy feel fuzzy. You wanted him to tell you that again and again and again. You looked up again to meet his eyes, and something in the way he looked at you in this moment settled you more than anything else had all day.

You swallowed gently, tucking your hands beneath the table.

“Thank you.” You whispered, quiet but honest, looking away to try and hide the way your cheeks had turned pink.

A gentle, comfortable silence settled between the two for a quick moment, until Noah leaned back, tossed his napkin onto the plate and glanced toward the door.

“I should probably get you home,” he said. “Before your friends freak out.” Oh yeah. Kylie and James were waiting for you at your place.

“…Shit.” You blinked, laughing under your breath as realisation settled over you. “I didn’t tell them I was going anywhere.”

“What, you just disappeared on them?” Noah chuckled.

“I didn’t think you’d actually take me to get food," you confessed, a little embarrassed, "I thought you were just saying it… just to be nice.”

He huffed a quiet laugh, pushing his chair back as he stood. His large hand came down, palm open in silent offer. You slipped your hand into his, letting him help you up, trying not to think about how perfectly your hand fit in his.

“For the record,” he murmured as you gathered your things, “I never say things I don’t mean. If I say I’ll take care of you…” His eyes met yours with a look that matched the teasing yet serious tone in the way he spoke, “I’ll do it properly.”

You followed him out, Noah’s hand brushed lightly against your lower back as he guided you toward the car, his gentle touch lingering for a moment longer than it probably needed to, like he wasn’t quite ready to let this evening end yet.

“Watch your head.” He said as he opened the passenger door for you.

The simple gesture made your heart warm, like everything else he does, but you slipped in carefully and let him shut the door for you, before he circled around to the drivers side.

The ride started quiet, the two of you still full but comfortable, you could already feel yourself wanting to yawn- it had been a long and rather emotional day.

You glanced his way once, studying his side profile, the line of his jaw, the tattoo on his throat that crept up the side of his neck- his perfect fucking nose that you wished you could reach out and just boop.

You hated how much you wanted him close again. Even if it was just for a moment, and you had spent all week regretting it, but you couldn't stop thinking about how his hands felt on your hips, how warm his bare chest was beneath your fingertips, how hard he was beneath you, and how it felt as he rocked you against him-

Stop. You shook the the thoughts from your head... but just as the horny ones left, the dreaded ones found their way back.

What if you didn't let your friends drag you across the street to the class? What if you only dropped by the class to hand his wraps back to him and leave again without saying a word. Would he have reached out? Or would he have let this- whatever was going on between you- die?

You exhaled quietly, turning your head to look out the window.

“Hey…” His voice gently pulled you from your thoughts, he glanced your way for a second before returning to the road. “You've gone quiet.”

"Sorry... I was thinking."

“Don't do that, you'll give yourself a headache,” he smirked, gently teasing. “No, seriously,” he prompted, voice a little softer now, “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, debating whether to come up with a lie or an excuse, but knowing Noah, he'd see through you.

"I almost didn't go to the class today. My friends had to physically drag me across the street because I was too scared to face you again... but if I didn't come, what would've happened?"

You noticed the way Noah’s fingers flexed on the wheel as he pulled the car to a slow stop outside your building, not even realising you were here already. He parked up, turning the engine off, before answering.

“What would've happened?” He repeated your question under his breath, eyes fixed ahead for a second like he was thinking it over. “I would’ve gone insane,” he admitted simply, turning his face to meet your eyes. “I spent the whole week thinking I screwed everything up. I was ready to text, I wanted to… but I couldn’t tell if you wanted space, or if you hated me, or…” He exhaled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh, almost at himself. “Guess we both overthink shit.”

"Yeah... well, we don't have to anymore." You said hopefully, meeting his eyes with a soft smile. The kind that made his heart race.

He chuckled under his breath, his gaze dropping briefly to your lips before looking away again. You unbuckled your seatbelt slowly, the click loud in the quiet car.

“I’d say come in… but my friends are waiting for me, and I'm already gonna get interrogated tonight, and I'm sure you'd rather not suffer through a million questions too.”

You noticed the way he smiled at the offer, but he also hesitated briefly.

“I’d love to, and I would have done...” he sighed, his voice dropping softer, sounding almost regretful. “But I’ve got a flight to catch in a few hours.”

"What?! A flight?" Your eyes widened.

"Yeah... work stuff." He nodded, running a hand through his hair, ruffling it a little. “It's just for a couple days."

You tilted your head, studying him.

“You’ve got a flight to catch... and you’re out here with me instead?”

That made him chuckle, and he nodded softly.

“Yeah,” he said simply, like it was obvious. “You were more important.”

For a moment, you forgot how to breathe. You were frozen completely still... did he really just say that or was this a dream? Did you pass out in the gym when Matt knocked you down?

Noah just chuckled to himself and opened his door, stepping out. The sound brought you back to earth and you followed him out the car, waiting for him to grab your gym bag from the backseat.

"Want me to walk you up?" He asked, and you answered with a nod.

Slinging your bag over his shoulder, he reached out for your hand, and he held it all the way up to the door of your apartment, his thumb brushing the back of your palm every now and then, as if to remind you this was real.

Once you reached your door, the two of you stilled. The world around you seemed to just melt away as you looked up into his brown eyes, a colour you’ve grown to love.

You really took him in from this angle... the small scars on his face which you guessed had been left behind from piercings, the dark colour of his lashes, the shape of his lips, the little freckle just under his eye... you wanted to reach out, cup his face in your hands, stand on your tip toes and kiss every inch of him.

His eyes dipped to your lips again, lingering for just a second longer than they should’ve. But he didn’t lean in, even when you thought he was going to. Instead, his grip on your hand tightened ever so slighlty, his fingers gently curling higher up your wrist, and then he lifted your hand between you.

You barely managed to swallow the lump in your throat as he pressed his lips to the back of your hand.

His lips were warm and soft against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine as his eyes met yours, looking at you through his lashes as he gave you the most gentle, delicate kiss.

It was an innocent gesture, but the way he lingered, the way his eyes locked with yours, made it feel incredibly intimate.

You were surprised your knees didn't give out beneath you. The feeling of his lips alone sent heat to your lower belly but the way he looked up at you through it almost made you whimper

“See you next week?"

You nodded, mouth dry, brain working overtime just to form a sentence... but somehow, something slipped out before you could overthink it.

“Text me… when you land?” you whispered, almost shyly. “Just… so I know you got there safe. Wherever you're going.”

“I will,” he promised quietly, his voice soft and sincere. Then, just as he pulled away, gently letting go of your hand, he whispered, “I'll miss you."

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

reading this back i don’t really like this chapter :/ BUT THE NEXT ONE…….

@dragoncopper @renegadebirch @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @xslavicprincess @foliosgirl @h4tef6ck @jesuisunchaton @saythatuwill @astronoids @missduffsblog @montgomery-929496 @lonelydragonlady @happyclifford @popularpopularmonster @bluehairpunklol @bruce9818 @itsyaboinoah @mayaslifeinabox @lonesomegrace @dominuslunae @lacy1986 @jesuisunchaton @overmydeadbodysblog @kenjipepsi1 @onlyethereal @theright-wrongway @geminigirlfromfinland @miss570 @trvshdxddy @spookieolson @sugaruapologist @latenightmusiclover @eversiinceny @shuiguans @lyschko666 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @flowery-mess @pathion @bladeupnred @urafakebetch @mycheersricochet @bloody-spades

#★who are you?#i should kinda add the tag oblivious!reader #noah sebastian #again... i apologise for any inaccuracy lmao #noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fanfic #noah sebastian imagine #noah sebastian fanfiction #noahsebastian #bad omens fanfiction #kickboxer!noah

141 notes · View notes

peasack · 21 hours ago

Text

Soo earlier I got a request from @weirdacelesbian and I had only chosen one thing of theirs to write (the mental health hcs), but I also loved this so much so I just had to write it!

Thunderbolts x Gn!Teen!Reader

✦ Thunderbolts x Teen!Reader Coming Out Headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Ava Starr

Immediate respect. She's probably one of the least surprised—she’s always had a read on you. Just gives you a soft, “Okay. I get it.”

Defensive and fierce. If anyone says anything about you, she’ll vaporize them. Ava does not play when it comes to you.

Validates your boundaries. Whether you want to tell the team or not, she respects your pace and keeps it between you two if you ask.

Soft moments. She’s not great with words, but she’ll do things like bring you your favorite snacks or sit on the roof with you in silence, just letting you know she’s here.

✦ Alexei Shostakov

Instant acceptance, zero hesitation. He probably interrupts you halfway through because he thinks he already knows what you’re trying to say and immediately says, "I love you! I support you! You are perfect!"

He gets overexcited. Tries to show support in the loudest, most Russian dad way possible. Starts bragging about you to everyone, even when it’s not relevant: “Did you know my kid is also [insert identity]? Very special. Very brave.”

Absolutely butchers terminology. He tries, but he’s a mess with labels. You correct him and he goes, “Ah yes, I knew that. I was testing you!” (He was not.)

Protective to the extreme. If anyone gives you trouble? They're on his hit list. He’ll be like, “Who? Where? I will crush them like ant.”

✦ Yelena Belova

Chill but soft reaction. Yelena’s like, “Okay? Cool. Let’s get ice cream,” like it's the most natural thing in the world. She doesn't make it a big deal, which honestly feels super comforting.

Overtime support. She lowkey reads and learns more about your identity behind the scenes just so she’s sure she can defend you if someone says something wrong.

Subtle affirmations. Starts using your preferred name/pronouns immediately if that’s part of it. Throws in little comments like, "You look good today. I like this version of you."

Would fight anyone. If you come home upset, she’s instantly like, “Give me their name. I just want to talk,” but you both know she’s not just going to talk.

✦ Bucky Barnes

Calm but emotional reaction. He listens fully before saying anything, then quietly goes, "Thanks for trusting me with this," with that soft little nod like he means it.

Found family warmth. Starts looking out for you even more. Will sit next to you in silence just to make sure you feel safe in the space you're in.

Lowkey protective dad mode. If someone misgenders you or makes a rude comment, he’s not going to make a scene, he’s just going to make them really uncomfortable until they leave.

Grumpy but supportive. He’s bad at big speeches but he’ll mutter things like, “I don’t care what you are or who you like you’re mine, kid. That’s all that matters.”

✦ John Walker

Confused at first. Not because he’s against it, but because he doesn’t know all the terms right away. He’s like, “Okay, wait, explain it to me one more time.”

Wants to get it right. He will ask questions (maybe too many) because he genuinely wants to understand and respect you properly.

Awkward but sincere. You catch him Googling stuff late at night and then the next day he casually uses the right terms like it’s no big deal. He really is trying.

Loyal to the bone. Says stuff like, "You're my kid. I got your back. Always." Might even get into fights with people who say anything disrespectful. Not subtle about it.

✦ Bob Reynolds

Quiet but emotional. He listens to every word, so gently it almost makes you cry. He just says softly, “Okay. Thank you for telling me. I’m so proud of you.”

Worries for you. Starts being extra careful around you, constantly checking in, making sure you feel safe, validating you in little ways without making you feel like a burden.

You can’t lie to him about being fine. He can literally sense when you’re not okay and will pull you aside like, "Hey, talk to me. I can feel it."

Gentle affirmations. He will straight up say, "You deserve to be loved for exactly who you are," and you know he means it.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

I hope you guys enjoyed!! Requests are always open<333

73 notes · View notes

shintaru · 2 days ago

Text

Sugar talking, your eyes only

🪼 m.list ♡ taglist ♡ recent fics🪼

Synopsis ~ Sending him 🌶️ pics when he’s busy

Tagging ~ @bfwooin @sylith @i-nssomniia @zyart-jpg @wthphe1n

*click*, *click*, *click*, you take a few photos of your chest in a white lacy bra. You scroll through them and send the best ones to your boyfriend. The read receipts pops up instantly. “I got your black card in my bra 😏” You send the text immediately noticing the ellipses but they disappear as quickly as they arrived. You start getting self conscious letting your mind race wondering if he didn’t like the photo.

Your thoughts are interrupted when you feel your phone vibrating. Unlocking your phone you return back to your messages with Wooin seeing he’s sent quite a lot. You look over everything one by one. The first message he sent was “Trying to get me to come home early? How cute. I’m omw” the text makes you smile. “So he did like the photo” you thought as you read over the next message.

“Here enjoy~ 👅” with a lot of photo and video attachments. The attachment of images started with only showing the tint in his sweatpants then with each swipe they became more erotic. To photos with different angles of his cock out. He even sent a few live images of him pumping his fist around his cock. There was even a live image of him tapping his cock on his phone camera.

Then you made it to the videos that had volume…The video starts with him freeing his cock from his sweatpants after that he’s swirling his thumb over his tip in circular motions before he slowly rolls his fist down his length. He lets out a low groan “F-fuck, Y/N” he says while letting out a breathy moan. He slides his hand back up his length, twisting it when he reaches the tip.

He’s slow with the motion at first he then begins to pick up the pace. After a while he slows down again he drags his hand slowly down his length and back up one last time. He cums a lot getting some all over his tattooed hand. He pumps his fist a few more times around his length letting out low groans trying to ride out his release. Those tattoos get you every time he looks way too good with them.

You read the last text he had sent after the attachments. “Touch yourself to these for me while you wait” you grab your vibrator from your nightstand drawer while turning it on to its highest setting. After you free yourself from the consignments of your clothing you place the vibrator to your clit. You begin to feel hazy as your release slowly builds up.

After some minutes your body begins to shake uncontrollably and you’re finding it hard to hold your vibrator in place. Your thighs tremble violently as you try to keep them open. Your release hits you hard making you squirt. Your hole clenches around nothing; you moan out your boyfriend's name as your body continues to convulse against your mattress. You didn’t notice Wooin watching you from the foot of your bed until he spoke “That’s hot! I hope you’re ready for more cause I’m not waiting”

Please be patient with me 😭 I know I write slow but this is what my drafts and queue are looking like… I’ll get them all done eventually!

48 notes · View notes

writingdevil · 2 days ago

Text

Can't Help Falling in Love with You (STP Burned Bridges Fic)

(This is both a gift and a snipe for @pink-november, who wrote some amazing fics for one of my AU's, so I decided to write some burned bridges for them, in the hopes of making them smile and or cry. Enjoy!)

"Oh, my dear! This is so exciting!"

Cold smiled softly at Smitten's infectious happiness, at how he was practically skipping along as Cold guided them further into the forest.

Smitten swung their intertwined hands up and down, humming a merry tune that bounced around the trees and flowers around them, and Cold could practically feel Smitten's voice spinning around in his head. He would be content if his voice stayed there forever.

Cold was used to doing things with a calm mind, not being weighed down with emotional attachments or sentiments. He believed that was the best way to live.

But Smitten changed his mind. Smitten was all fire and passion, and couldn't go two steps without fawning over something that caught his eye.

Cold thought Smitten was interesting, but illogical. Smitten flat out hated him at times, but other times would try to get him to feel something, which would often end in arguments, either way.

That was their dance, for a while. Until Cold started to get bored, and Smitten started to feel guilty of his anger at him. Cold expected to move on from Smitten and to ignore his silly emotions for the rest of his life, but then something shocked Cold- Smitten wouldn't leave his mind.

Even when Cold assumed that he had gotten all his entertainment from the bird, Cold's thoughts kept going back to Smitten, even during the mundane moments when there would be no logical reason to think about him.

Whenever he would do anything, Smitten's voice would constantly be ringing in his head, and Cold would wonder how Smitten would react to some things. He just- wanted to have Smitten by his side, no matter what.

The fact that Smitten had wriggled his way into Cold's supposedly numb core, was something that took a long time to come to terms with. But then when Smitten would come up and talk to him, Cold noticed that his voice got softer, and the usual frustration in his eyes was replaced with a gentle twinkle that made some awful, ugly, fluttering feeling in Cold's chest.

For all of his talk of love, Smitten never cared to mention how torturous it felt.

It was so torturous that Cold couldn't help but let himself be swept along in Smitten's embrace, and the next thing he knew, they were together.

That had been a year ago, and now, Cold wanted to do something special for Smitten.

Cold slowed his pace, until Smitten was forced to stop and look over his shoulder, giving him a quizzical look. "Is everything alright, love?"

Cold nodded, and let go of Smitten's hand, coming up behind him as he said, "Yes, but this is where the surprise starts, so-" and then Cold put his hands over Smitten's eyes, leaning in close to whisper, "- you're going to have have trust me."

Cold felt Smitten's feathers fluff up behind him, and then Smitten took ahold of one of Cold's wrist to kiss it and lovingly say, "Always, my love."

Cold started slowly walking Smitten down a certain path, feeling Smitten's body tense up and shake in excitement, and Cold couldn't help the amused smile from forming on his face, glad that Smitten couldn't see him right now.

Once Cold caught sight of the first part of the surprise, he stopped, leaning in close to whisper, "Are you ready, my dear?"

Smitten squealed and jumped up and down in excitement, and Cold chuckled and lowered his hands, which Smitten instantly grabbed, and Cold squeezed it once before guiding Smitten forward.

"So," Smitten said as they walked forward, "where is the surprise?"

"Look up."

Smitten gave him a look of confusion, before lifting his head up, and gasping with a hand over his mouth.

Cold couldn't help feeling smug, as Smitten's eyes twinkled in amazement.

Cold looked up as well, just to admire his handiwork. It had taken hours to collect all the cherry blossom flowers he needed, and tied them against branches that were long enough to lean across the other side of trees on the path, of which Cold had to also try and position right.

That had been the most annoying part, and he was very close to just forgetting about the whole thing, thinking that he didn't need to put that much effort into it. But now, getting to watch Smitten's reaction to the cherry blossom archways he had created, Cold was glad he decided to push through.

"Oh my goodness," Smitten whispered, gazing up at the archways, swivelling his head to keep them in his sights as they walked through them. "This is beautiful, Cold. Did you do all this for me?"

"Yes, and I hadn't known branches could cut you in so many different ways," Cold casually said, and Smitten's head whipped to him with a wary look on his face.

Cold smirked at him, before lifting his palm up for Smitten to inspect. Smitten instantly grabbed his hand, his thumb grazing over his palm and the various cuts that he was now paying attention to, humming in disapproval.

Smitten glanced up to give Cold a frustrated look, before leaning down and peppering soft and light kisses all over Cold's fingers and palm. Although Cold's face didn't change at the affection, it still sent pleasant warmth through his feathers.

Once Smitten was finished, he held Cold's hand close to his chest and said, "I am honoured that you would go through all this effort for me, but you must tell me when you hurt yourself so that I can help you."

"By kissing it better?"

Smitten chuckled, bringing his hand up to press a final, loving kiss against Cold's palm, and this time, Cold could clearly feel a heat in his cheeks.

Smitten released his hand with a smirk, as if he knew the effect he had on Cold. "You always feel better when I take care of you."

Cold quickly grabbed Smitten's hand, avoiding eye contact as he said, "Think whatever you want, but let's keep walking at least."

Smitten giggled, but complied, and soon enough, he was back to gazing up at the pink archways with his jaw hanging open, and Cold found that he cared far more about Smitten's reactions and the tiniest facial changes, rather than part of the surprise that he had worked so long on.

Smitten was just more mesmerising to Cold.

One petal fell loose, and it drifted down towards Smitten, who made them both stop, and he lifted a hand up to catch the falling petal. Cold tilted his head to the side in curiosity, and a soft smile pulled at his face as he watched the fond look Smitten gave the tint petal, before closing his eyes and blowing it away, and they watched as the wind carried it far away.

"Well?" Cold blinked in surprise, coming back to reality to find Smitten looking at him playfully, a brow arched and a knowing smile on his face- and then Cold realised that he had been staring at Smitten. "Aren't we going to keep walking?"

Usually Cold was unabashed by his behaviour and his habit of staring at others, even if he got caught. But for some reason, because it was Smitten, it made him want to fly off and never return. How strange. If anything, that just proved that Cold was more than right in going through with this surprise.

They walked on, and Cold didn't bother with covering Smitten's eyes for this next part.

Eventually, they passed the archways, leaving the forest to go back to the dark greens and browns, which now looked so much duller compared to the bright cherry blossom that seemed to grab all the attention of the forest.

Instead, Cold saw a twinkling in the distance, just around the corner, and he silently nodded towards it to Smitten, who's face burst into a wide and excited smile, already anticipating the next part of the surprise, and then he sprinted forward, dragging Cold with him.

Cold didn't mind much. In fact, it was highly amusing to see how quickly Smitten's emotions could change- from excitement at the surprise, to concern at Cold's hands, then to gentle fondness at a single petal. Smitten had so much to feel over so many different things, that it was fascinating to watch.

Like now, for example.

Smitten had rushed forward, but abruptly stopped with a gasp as he saw the second part of the surprise. Thankfully, Cold didn't crash into him, and he placed his hands on Smitten's shoulders from behind, leaning forward to playfully ask, "Do you like it?"

In the middle of a clearing in the woods, were six silver lanterns hanging from branches, all lit and lighting up the dark forest like a beacon drawing them in. The lanterns had been arranged in a circular shape, so that their glow created a perfect circle on the forest floor- a spotlight for them to stand under.

"Oh, my love," Smitten whispered, taking a few steps forward. "This is beautiful."

"I would've made food as well, but I'm still banned from the kitchen, and Hunted won't even let me near it."

Smitten giggled, then looked back and gave Cold such a starry and amazed look, that it made Cold gulp and ball his hands into fists to control himself.

Smitten smiled warmly at him and said, "I would love anything you do for me," and then he held out his hand for Cold to take, which he gladly did.

Cold led them forward, until they were standing directly under the spotlight of the lanterns, gazing into each other's eyes and holding hands.

Smitten smirked and playfully said, "I didn't think you would be such a romantic. I thought you said big displays of affection weren't your thing?"

"It's not," Cold replied truthfully, "but you like them, and I wanted to do this for you."

Smitten squeezed his hands, then leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Well, thank you for all this trouble you've gone through just for me. I love it."

At that moment, Cold felt a rare rush of nerves overtake him, and he ducked his head. Getting nervous now was pointless, not after all the work he's put in to get to this point tonight.

He shoved his jitters down, and made himself look Smitten in the eye as he said, "I did all of this for a reason."

"Did you now?" Smitten asked in an enamoured voice, as if the mere thought of anyone doing a romantic gesture for Smitten was enough to make him swoon.

"Yes," Cold said. "I wanted to do all of this for you because you've caught my eye the longest. You make me feel the most, by doing as little as smiling sometimes."

Smitten giggled, and Cold allowed himself to smile in fondness at the other, before it dropped again as he spoke.

"You've done a lot for me, even when I know you didn't particularly like me. You made me-"

"Prove you have feelings?" Smitten teased, almost leaning against Cold now, and Cold lips twitched upwards, but he remained focused on his task.

"I suppose you could say that," Cold quietly murmured, squeezing their intertwined hands for comfort, which Smitten happily provided.

"So I wanted to do all of this for you, to make everything perfect, just as you'd like it, so that I could tell you that I-I-"

Cold could immediately feel that warmth and nerves turn to ash and rot in his mouth, and he coughed, hoping to not lose control at the last moment.

He made himself look into Smitten's shining eyes, feeling his body and his heart against his so firmly. This was all for Smitten. He needed to do this for Smitten, because he's worked on himself so much for Cold. Smitten deserved to have the favour returned.

"I wanted to say that I- that I-"

But everytime Cold got close to saying it, his mind would shut it down and he couldn't get the words out.

His fear was stopping him.

Why should Cold be afraid, though? What did it matter? Either he said the words or he didn't. Nothing major would change in his life because of three simple words, and even if they did, Cold shouldn't care about that.

But then Cold looked into Smitten's eyes or heard his warm voice, and it made him care.

Cold lowered his head, feeling a hint of shame, as the words refused to be said aloud. "I-I-"

"Sshh." But then Smitten held a finger up to his lips, nothing but genuine adoration in his eyes as he softly said, "I love you too, my darling."

Cold blinked, his mind shutting down for a split second, until all he could think to say was, "You didn't let me say it."

"I knew what you were trying to say, and it seemed like you were struggling."

Cold sighed, frustration shaking in his voice no matter how much he tried to suppress it. "I-I should be able to say it for myself."

"It's alright if you can't, sweet thing."

"No," Cold quietly mumbled, lowering his head, no longer squeezing Smitten's hands anymore. "It shouldn't be a problem to me. I shouldn't care this much about measly words. I need to do this."

"Why?" Smitten softly asked, and Cold hated how he heard zero judgement in his voice.

"Because if I can't say it, then I can't let you know how I feel about you."

"But I do know how you feel."

Cold let a bitter laugh out. "How?"

He felt Smitten lift his chin up to look at him, and felt himself getting lost in the warmth that Smitten kept radiating, all for Cold to soak up.

Smitten's eyes shone brightly as he said, "You've just told me you loved me."

"No, I didn't," Cold protested, and Smitten chuckled, then twisted them slightly to face the path they came from, and boldly declared, "My beloved, you've been telling me you love me all day- with your actions."

Cold didn't understand, and Smitten gestured up towards the lanterns and explained, "Every detail that you thought up, every second that you spent preparing this- that was all you saying I love you."

Was that- true? He supposed actions did speak louder than words in some cases. But Cold had always assumed, at least for him, that nobody would ever understand him unless he said it plainly. He didn't anyone to read between the lines- everyone except Smitten, apparently.

He turned back to face Smitten hesitantly. "You can really-feel that? You can tell what I'm trying to say?"

Smitten wrapped his arms around Cold's waist. "Of course I can, my love."

Cold's hands found their way to Smitten's shoulders, and he found himself pressing closer to Smitten, with one last question tugging at his mind.

"It doesn't bother you that I can't say the words yet?" he asked, trying to sound neutral, but judging from the way Smitten rubbed his back in comfort, it didn't come off that way. "Not when you throw them around all the time?"

"As I said, beautiful, you tell me you love me in so many different ways. I don't need to hear you say it to know it to be true."

A smile tugged at Cold's lips. "Is that so?"

"Yes," Smitten said confidently, before suddenly dipping Cold, a move he did quite often, to the point where Cold was almost expecting the move, because he knew what came after it.

"I'll wait however long it takes for you to be able to declare your love to me, and if that day never comes, then it doesn't matter. It won't change how I feel about you."

Smitten leaned in close, and Cold tugged him forward impatiently, his breath hitching as Smitten voice lowered and he said, "I'll still love you regardless."

Then their lips met in a sweet kiss, and Cold could feel their love for each other within it.

#slay the princess #stories #my writing #stp #stp voices #stp smitten #stp cold #voice of the cold #voice of the smitten #stp burned bridges

44 notes · View notes

ep1cn00bz · 2 days ago

Note

hellooooo. could you please write bbf or sbf for ellie williams???

(u could include smut if u want)

(Oooh I love this!🤍)

“𝑰 𝒄𝒓𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖”

────୨ৎ────

{dom!ellie x fem!reader, fingering!r, questioning sexuality, peep the Sabrina carpenter ref ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა}

Word count: 899

MEN DNI!

You and Ellie have been friends since the 2nd grade. Shes always had a little crush on you but there was a problem. You were straight and you didn’t know Ellie wasn’t. You both are now adults in your early 20s you have a boyfriend who never really treats you well. Ellie always saw how he treated you and she always knew you could have better than him. Her.

Now you’re at her house sitting down on her couch after another fight with your boyfriend.

“You don’t deserve him,” Ellie says taking her hand in yours. She softly brushes her fingers against your hand. You nod and look up at her with red eyes tears threatening to fall down.

“He said he would change! He said he wouldn’t do it,” your voice cracking. Ellie’s heart clenched at your tears forming. She gently wipes your tears off your face.

“You could do so much better than him,” She says softly.

“Like me,” it didn’t comprehend to you at first then you look at her.

“What?” You say still trying to understand what she said.

“I love you. I can’t just stand by and watch you keep getting hurt and hurt by this manchild!” She growls sternly.

“I’ve loved you ever since I laid eyes on you! I can’t and won’t let you keep getting treated like this.” Ellie looks at your lips then back at your eyes.

“I’ll treat you so much better then any man ever has. I’ll show you what you’ve been missing this whole time~” Ellie looks at you with possession and you see her eyes darken. This was new. You’ve never seen Ellie like this and you’ve known her your whole life.

“Ellie we can’t. I don’t even like girls. This is sinful,” Your body betraying your mind as you slowly lean in. Ellie smirks seeing you go to war with your mind.

“I don’t care. I crave you. I want to feel every part of you,” She holds your face her dark brown eyes piercing through you.

“I just need the green light,” your mind try’s to fight this urge but fuck was she pretty when she acted like this. You look her in the eyes and finally make a decision.

“You’re gonna get me in so much trouble,” Ellie smirks and crashes her lips on yours. She grabs your hips like you’re gonna disappear. She bites your bottom lips asking for entrance she slowly enters her tongue savoring every little bit she can. You feel like you’ve needed this your whole life. Which was weird because you never thought you’d like girls but maybe just maybe you do.

“Take your shirt off,” Ellie say looking at you. Without a second thought you take your shirt off and she looks at your chest with lust and smiles back at you.

“Lay back and let me show you a good time baby,” you lay back and see her take in the view of you exposed surrendering just to her. She takes off your pants seeing you soaking wet.

“Ellie please,” you let out a moan feeling her fingers go along your lips.

“Use your words princess,” Ellie says teasing you. She smirks as she sees your flustered face.

“Fuck me please,” she didn’t even need you to say it twice before she inserted her fingers. You grip the couch and see Ellie lower her face into your clit before you can even react she sucks at your bud. Her fingers at a fast pace enough for you to clench around her fingers and your moans could be heard from a mile away.

“Shit baby he doesn’t treat you like I do does he?” Ellie says speeding up her mind focused on making sure you feel good.

“Come on cum for me I know you want to. Let me hear how good I treat you,” you grab Ellie’s hair trying not to hurt her by pulling too hard but damn was it hard not to. Ellie secretly enjoys feeling the pain and her pupils get bigger at the feeling. You moan loudly just before cumming on her fingers. You, outta breath, lay on the couch. Ellie licks her fingers and kisses your temple.

“You should stay the night, I could use some company.” She picks you up bridal style to her room.

#ellie x reader #ellie smut #tlou #smut #wlw post #lesbian

28 notes · View notes

adoresia · 2 days ago

Text

isagi doesn’t get it. you’ve been pacing the room for twenty minutes, opening tabs just to ignore them, cleaning your desk only to dump everything back on it, walking to your bed just to sit and stare at the wall like you had nothing better to do, and yet still, not a single word had been written on your assignment document.

“are you okay?” he asks, more concerned about the fact that you’ve put in more work today pacing around your room then actually getting anything done.

“yeah yeah, i just have to do this” you mutter, barely registering him. “then do it?” he shrugs. “well yeah thats what i’ve been trying to do this whole time, idiot.”you end up flopping dramatically onto your bed with a groan, limbs sprawled out as if this were a crime scene. isagi doesn’t say anything for a second — he just raises an eyebrow before grabbing your arm and tugging you up like dead weight “okay get up. we’re doing this together.”

“I don’t need your help” you argue, but the grip he had on you was almost deadly “yes you do. also, you’re lowkey unbearable when you procrastinate.” he sits next to you at your desk, legs bouncing under the table as he leans over your shoulder to read the first line of your blank doc. “wow, riveting stuff so far.”

“shut up” you mutter, cutting him a look out the corner of your eye. “okay my bad” he grins, far too pleased with himself for someone who doesn’t neeed to be writing a single thing. regardless, you end up writing maybe three sentences in the next half hour. mostly because he keeps stealing your pen, or putting his chin on your shoulder, or poking you when you’re finally focused, not being very helpful is he? but at least he’s still there — which somehow makes the whole thing feel less impossible. “see, you finally got something done. i’m proud of you.” and maybe yeah, you’re still procrastinating, but at least you’re not doing it alone. and that kind of makes all the difference.

a/n: @lizbix lowkey kept getting distracted and by the time i finnished the clock read midnight 11…. woops 😳 isagi should come save me from procrastination tbh

click here to be notified whenever i write a fic !!

gen taglist : @livteracts @s6rine @mayyhaps 🥺🥺🥺🤞🏾💗💗

#📂 search result 0005 : now running #isagi yoichi #bllk isagi #blue lock isagi #isagi x reader #isagi x you #isagi x y/n #isagi fluff #isagi blue lock #isagi bllk #isagi yoichi blue lock #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #isagi yoichi x y/n #isagi yoichi bllk #isagi fanfiction #isagi fic #isagi yoichi fluff

38 notes · View notes

rhettrosunsets · 5 hours ago

Text

Lemon Bars And Lavender - Petals And Protection Series| Boblena X Fem!Reader

Pairing: Robert Reynolds X Fem!Floral Powered Reader X Yelena Belova (Boblena X Reader)

Category: Fluff

Summary: When you leave the tower for a full day for the first time since you've arrived, Bob and Yelena learn that your plants definitely have some emotional codependency, and that when you're gone, chaos ensures. Who knew plants could be dramatic?

Masterlist

Read More Of The Petals And Protection Series Here!

Warnings: No use of Y/N. No description of reader. Bob and Yelena overthinking and worrying about their girl. Bob and Yelena use petnames like Sweet-Girl and Darling Girl for reader. Reader is soft spoken and has plant powers. Reader has a sister. Bob and Yelena don't play about their girlfriend.

Notes: I love getting to write for these three so much.

It starts with a singular leaf.

Yelena notices it first. She’s passing through the kitchen, sipping on her tea. A mix you had made for her and Bob specifically, mentioning something about lavender and calming factors.

Her eye’s gently look across all the plants blooming in the tower's window, a soft smile quirking at her the corner of her lips as she thinks about you. You've made the tower feel so much more lively since living there, plants bustling across the window seals and a fresh scent of lavender and rosemary always present in the building.

You had gone to visit your sister and her two kids for the day, having left at the earliest hours of the morning, before the sun had even risen. Bob and Yelena were happy for you at making this progress and being able to talk to your sister again.

Her eyes catch the vines of ivy above the sink, one of its glossy green tips curling inwards. It’s something small, barely noticeable even. But it has never done that.

Not unless something’s wrong with you.

“Bob?” she calls her voice filled with concern as she walks closer to the ivy, gently inspecting it with her hands. Her head tilted as she inspects the wilting plant before dropping it.

Bob appears a second later his hair wet from his morning shower and his eyebrows lifting at her tone. “What’s going on, Darling?”

She gestures with her mug and a nod of her head. “The ivy, It’s drooping.”

Bob leans closer. And now that she’s mentioned it, the lavender looks off too. Just a bit dimmed a much duller purple than the vibrant glowing color it had been last night when you were here. Then he looked outside the window and a rosebud outside the balcony window hangs much lower than usual, it's bright red petals beginning to brown.

He swallows harshly before murmuring “She’s only been gone a few hours?” but unease is already blooming in his chest.

Yelena crosses her arms before softly muttering a concerned “She’s gone to see her sister, and the plants are acting like she’s vanished off the face of the earth.”

Bob sends you a few texts in your chat with him and Yelena just to be sure.

“Everything Okay, Darling?”

“Have fun with your sister! Text us photos!”

“Let us know when you're heading back, Sweet-Girl. We miss you. 🧡”

No response, no read receipts, nothing.

Yelena’s pacing now. Her mind working into overdrive at the possibility of you being hurt and them not knowing or being able to help you.

“What if something happened to our girl? What if there's something seriously wrong. Or she doesn’t have cell service?" Yelena says in a panicked tone.

Bob gently puts his hands on Yelena’s shoulder trying to calm her down, something she’s typically doing for him

“Our girl is strong, she’s probably just enjoying spending time with her sister. She promised to call us tonight when she’s on her way back, if she doesn’t call by then, then we can worry.” He murmurs softly, gently kissing her shoulder.

“She also promised to rest after the drive up there and knowing Our Girl she probably started immediately baking muffins for her nieces the moment she got there.” Yelena says, her voice still concerned but Bob’s touch helping ground her a bit.

That makes Bob smile for a brief second, because you absolutely would do something like that. Always trying to do act's of service, particularly through making things, such as tea's, baked goods and balms that help soothe even the sorest of muscles.

But his smile fades when he glances at the rosemary plant by the window, Its edges are starting to brown and wilt.

He moves without thinking, crouching by it like he can physically will it back to life. “Come on, don’t do this to us right now. She'll be back soon.” he murmurs.

Yelena kneels next to him looking at the same plant. “If this thing dies, she’s going to be heartbroken. She has an emotional attachment to all of them in some capacity.”

“This one bloomed on her birthday, it’s one of her favorites.” Bob says softly looking at the wilting rosemary that you use for everything.

They sit there for a few quiet minutes, surrounded by the wilting plants and anxiety crawling up both of their spines eating away at their most inner thoughts.

“I hate this.” Yelena mutters.

“I know.” Bob replies, his head going to rest on Yelena’s as they sit on the cold tower floor together.

“I just want our girl home.” Yelena murmurs quietly. Bob doesn’t say anything, he just nods and squeezes Yelena’s hand. A silent I love you motion.

The elevator doors open just after the sun had fully gone down.

“Bob, ‘Lena?” you call out, your voice light and breathless, a grin settled on your face. You’re carrying a box full of baked goods as you rush into the tower living room.

“M’so sorry I’m late guys, my sister begged me to stay for dinner and then the twins started crying when I said I had to leave and get back here and the traffic on the way was-” You pause.

Bob and Yelena are standing in the middle of the living room, eyes wide like they’ve seen a ghost, the air heavy and still.

And then, every plant in the room springs to life.

The lavender glows a vibrant purple. The ivy’s leaves immediately uncurl and turn their vibrant green, and the rosemary perks back up. It’s like the whole apartment takes a deep breath.

“Oh.” you say, blinking softly now understanding why both your partners looked like they had seen a ghost from how pale they were.

Bob points at the plants, now vibrant and standing strong. “They were dying not even five minutes ago. Yelena and I were trying to figure out how to explain to you that while you were gone somehow all your plants decided to bite the dust. And then we started worrying that something happened to you and that's why all the plants in the towers vicinities seemed to be wilting."

You wince softly, feeling bad about making them worry. “I guess they don’t like when I’m gone too long? But I brought lemon bars?” you offer weakly, raising the box slightly.

Yelena marches over to where you're standing, takes the box out of your hands placing it on the table and then immediately pulls you into a hug so tight it nearly knocks the wind out of you.

“You scared the hell out of me, Darling-Girl.” she murmurs, kissing your forehead. Bob joins the hug wrapping his arms around both of you. “You didn’t do anything wrong Sweet-Girl, we are just-”

“Very attached and protective of what's ours.” Yelena finishes.

You smile as both your partners hold you. “Well if it’s any consolation, I missed you guys too.” you say softly, before immediately perking up again.

“Oh! I have so many photos to show you.” You say with a big smile on your face. Bob and Yelena smile wide giving each other a soft look as they let you drag them to the couch, Yelena already grabbing the fuzzy blanket to throw over the three of you.

And outside, the roses bloom a little brighter.

23 notes · View notes

pinkolve · 13 hours ago

Text

Needy-Anakin Skywalker ▪──── ⚔ ────▪

Summary: You come back to your quarters after a brutal fight; Anakin is there to take care of you.

Genre: Fluff, suggestiveness, hurt/comfort

CW: Fem!Reader, second person point of view, no use of y/n, Reader has problems with letting people take care of her, possible inaccurate descriptions of the SW universe? I just started the movies so please have mercy on me, I wrote this with ROTS Anakin in mind, but you can definitely read it about AOTC Ani too, references to...Being horny? I don't know what to call it bruh. Mentions of blood, open wounds, and nausea!!

Word Count: 1.0k

A/N: Three fics in one week? Has hell frozen over?!?!? Anyways okay, I purposefully didn't write any smut for this because I usually suck at it. But if you would like a part two with said smut, say the word and I'll get straight to work!! Thank yewwww!!!

▪──── ⚔ ────▪

You limp your way to your room, shooting pains rushing up your leg. You ignore the stickiness of blood clinging to your side. You sway every so often, resisting the urge to faint. Only a few paces from your room you hear a familiar voice.

“Where is she? She should be back by now.” He sounds worried, and you can practically see the crease in his brow. You push it down, refusing to let him see you like this. You peek around the corner, finding his back turned to you. You move as quickly as you can, entering your room with minimal noise. You take long strides until you’re able to fall onto your couch. Just as your legs touch the fabric, your door opens again. Anakin strides inside, his eyes locking on yours immediately.

“How the hell did you know I was here?” You shake your head to yourself not long after muttering the question, fucking Jedi senses. “Never mind.” You wince, placing a hand over your side.

“Are you hurt?” He asks, rushing over to you. He kneels in front of you, his hand resting over your own.

“I’m fine, Anakin.” You pull your shirt down further. Anakin looks up at you with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

“Why are you lying to me?” You groan at his inquiry.

“Stop getting in my fucking head, Skywalker.” Your voice raises and it makes your head throb. You lean back, resting it on the back of the couch with a soft whimper.

“Where are you hurt? Let me see.” He grabs the hem of your shirt, trying to pull it up. You push his hand away, looking up again.

“Leave it alone, I’m fine!” You snap. Anakin leans back slightly, watching you with concerned eyes. You sigh, rubbing a hand across your forehead in hopes it will somehow alleviate your headache. “I’m sorry, I just…I don’t want you worrying about me.” You respond softly.

“I always worry about you, no matter where you are, or who you’re with. I will always worry about you.” He whispers, his voice putting you at such ease you almost fall asleep.

“I don’t like looking weak.” You whisper, almost inaudible, but he heard it.

“You aren’t weak, you’ve never been weak. You’re one of the strongest people I know, showing some vulnerability once in a while isn’t going to change that.” He says, resting a hand over your own. You sigh again, lifting your shirt up for him. You can hear him inhale sharply, making you wince.

“Is it that bad?” You smile a little, trying to calm yourself. His grip moves to your thigh, squeezing tighter than expected.

“Who did this to you?” He asks, his voice low and rough. It was the complete opposite of how he usually spoke to you. You couldn’t lie; it made your face burn seeing him so protective over you. You squeeze your thighs together, pushing his hand between them in the process.

“I don’t remember, I just started swinging.” This makes him chuckle, and you smile. You gain the courage to look down, staring at the open wound. “Holy…I did not expect it to look that bad.” You take a deep breath, looking away quickly. “I think I’m going to throw up.” You groan, the sight of your own marred flesh making you queasy.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.” He gives your thigh a reassuring squish before rushing off to your bathroom. You whine at the pain and the ever-growing heat between your legs. Having someone, especially Anakin, fuss over you like this…It was ruining you in the best way possible. He’s back at your side within seconds, a first aid kit in hand.

“Lean back, my love.” He whispers, gently pushing you further into the couch. You lean your head against the back once again, breathing fast. Anakin finishes cleaning and bandaging your wounds in record time, you barely had time to blink. You look down at your now covered stomach and smile to yourself. You pull your shirt down just as he comes back, watching you with a gaze you can’t quite understand.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, sitting beside you. He places a hand over your upper thigh, making you push them together again.

“Better, thank you.” You smile, ignoring the heat in your cheeks.

“You want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” He asks, an annoying smirk taking up his face. You look at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing with unsaid words.

“Are you using your fucking Jedi tricks on me again?!” You ask, leaning back to look at him.

“I don’t need to rely on those when you make it so obvious yourself.” Anakin chuckles, gesturing to your thighs pushed tightly against each other. You look away from him, his gaze making you melt.

“Whatever.” You say, thoroughly embarrassed.

“Hey.” He whispers, grabbing your chin with his other hand. He meets your eyes with a soft smile. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, I just wanted to know what it was I did to get you so needy.” He flashes you a teasing smile, but his words remain true. You have no reason to feel embarrassed, not with Anakin.

“You…Taking care of me. I’ve never had anyone do that for me. You were just so gentle and you got so protective…I couldn’t help but feel needy.”

“Would you like me to help you?” He asks, his voice honey smooth. He leans into you, pushing you to lay on the couch.

“Yes.” Your answer is quick and completely expected. Anakin instantly pushes his mouth against yours, licking into your mouth with his wet tongue. You moan into it, arching your back and pushing your chest against his.

“My needy girl.” His whispers into your neck, trailing kisses down to your collarbone. “I’ll always take care of you…”

22 notes · View notes

sunghoonzzzz · 14 hours ago

Text

lovesong | sjy TEASER

⤷ synopsis ; writing love songs always seemed iffy to you, same as how relationships and being in love seemed iffy to you. that was until you meet a cute boy who had also missed the train. from then on it seemed like all you could do was think about was being in love, and writing love songs.

pairing ; jake ― sim jaeyun x f!reader

genre ; first time love, high school, innocent love, sfw

warnings ; cursing, skinship, innocent kissing, ect. (lmk if i missed any!)

word count ; tbd

release date ; tbd

notes ; singer/songwriter!reader (not like a celebrity, more like a highschooler who enjoys playing her guitar and coming up with little singy songs in her free time; occasionally posting youtube covers every now and again on her small anonymous yt channel) ― this is my first ever work on tumblr, and the first time writing like this in probably over two years so i would love to hear feedback & thoughts! :3 ― i hope you enjoy >< reblogs very much appreciated :,)

this work is inspired by lovesong by beabadoobee

'scuse me! sorry! ― is what you yelled as you rushingly weaved your way through the busy morning train station. it wasn't normal for you to wake up late, but lets just say a sudden muse hit you last night and you just couldn't put your guitar down until almost 4 am, despite the fact that you had to be up at 6 am that same morning.

"ah shit..." you cursed under your breath as you peaked a glance at your watch, it reading 07:34 am. the train that gets you to your school leaves at 07:36 am, and you were hoping and praying you would make it in time. unfortunately for you, if you miss this train you would have to wait another 20 minutes for the next, which would most definitely make you late to school. you attempt to pick up the pace, but find it difficult to do so with your guitar case on your back and arms clutching your school bag to your chest.

people watch as you near the train, only for it to close its doors and announce its departure. you groan, stabilizing your hands on your knees as you panted, catching your breath.

"fuck... you miss the train too?"

you looked up and meet eyes with a panting boy that looked the same age as you, who also wore the same uniform as you.

"yeah... just barely" you huffed, standing up straight, still catching your breath as you took in the cool breeze produced by the high speed train, enjoying the feeling on your hot and now sweaty skin.

your eyes traveled up and down him, observing every last feature of him. he was tall to say the least, and had messy, dark brown hair. he sort of reminded you of your dog susu, who was a golden retriever. for some reason, he looked a tad bit familiar to you, but you couldn't seem to figure out why.

"oh, you go to decelis too?" he voiced, interrupting your train of thought.

"um... yeah, im a second year" you replied back awkwardly as you tucked some hair strands behind your ear that stuck to your partially sweaty face.

"naur way! me too" the boy exclaimed as his eyes lit up. does he have an accent? maybe he's a foreigner, you thought to yourself as you analyzed his features once more. the way his eyes lit up as he slightly panted, still trying to catch his breath from running really reminded you of susu. the thought of that made you giggle, only for him to tilt his head in confusion.

"whats saur funny?" he questioned, slightly giggling aswell. "nothing nothing! its just- you sort of look like my dog!" you explained while bursting out in laugher.

he looks at you with a shocked stare that soon turned into a reddened and flustered state. yes, he may have been flushed red up to the tips of his ears, but it wasn't because of the statement you made, claiming how he looked like your dog. it was because of... you. your wide cheeky smile had him captivated, and the warming sounds of your laughter made his heart race.

what was this feeling?

HAIII GUYSSSSS umm so basically this is a draft that has been sitting unfinished since DECEMBER.... should i finish it/!?!!?!?1 if so PLEASEEEE give me the motivation to continue this HEHEHEHEH in the mean time my inbox is open pls give me fic ideas bc i need motivation to pick up writing again!!! let me know if u guys like this little snippet, because if u do ill finish it!!! OKAY TY BAIIIIII <3333

#enha #enha x reader #enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen jake #jake enhypen #jake sim #jake #sim jake #sim jaeyun #dhwkdjkshwjd #yayyyyy #:3

22 notes · View notes

dodger432101 · 18 hours ago

Note

PRETTY PLEASE facesitting fic with lux (female reader please!!)

he’s so smitten pls smother him dearest reader

[Done a shorter piece for this here, but I decided to write a bit more of a fuller fic for it. Top that God! THIS CONTAINS SMUT MINORS DO NOT READ]

Lux has been particularly close today. From the moment he woke up, he's been right up against you. As he followed you around the house, he kept his side squished up against your leg. If you were on the couch he would be right next to you, practically trying to merge into your side. But he pays more attention to your legs, your thighs, rubbing his cheek against them like an affectionate cat. He clearly wants something, but he won't say out loud what that is.

Eventually, you lead him back to bed, watching as the little God finally separates himself from you to hop onto the bed and situate himself on his back. You crawl over next to him, and that's when he grabs at your thighs with a pleasing look. Ohh. That's what he wants. “Ask nicely, hun. I don't know what you want.” Of course you do, you just want to make him say it.

He whines and paws at the plush muscle of your thighs, trying to drag you on top of him. “Want you on my face, dolly, please?” You smile as you move off the bed to take what little clothing you had put on with just you and him in the house. Then you go right where he wants you.

As soon as your weight pushes down on the God of Light he's groaning, tongue getting to work immediately while his arms loop around your thighs multiple times. You're not getting away ‘til he's done. One hand of yours goes down to grab the top of his head, keeping him in place as you begin to grind down onto him. He sticks his tongue out for you to use, whimpering as your fingers brush against his antennae. “Oh, good boy, Lux. Fuck you're so good for me.” His eyelids flutter at the praise, gold heart pupils unfocused in a lust filled gaze.

One arm unwraps from your thighs, though you're too busy grinding against your God's face to notice. It's only when his whimpers increase in frequency that you blink out of your daze and look back down at Lux. His eyes are now closed, eyebrows knitted together in pleasure while you use him for your own. You know he likes this, but not enough to elicit such a reaction. Looking behind you, you find the reason for his heightened enjoyment. He's got his free hand down his pants, palming himself in the same pace your hips are moving at. The sight causes the knot in your stomach to tighten even more. Though, you're feeling a little cruel today. “Lux.” He freezes just from your tone, eyes snapping open to look up at you. He knows he's been caught. “Hands.” They're both quickly moved above his head, where you then pin them by the wrists. Lux shudders at the restraints before he gets right back to work, his eyes remaining on you to watch the way you throw your head back in the throes of pleasure.

It doesn't take much longer for him to make you cum, your thighs squeezing the sides of his head as you ride out your orgasm, moaning out the name of the God underneath you. He groans in response, adding to the last bursts of pleasure running through your body before you move off of his face to catch your breath. Your little lover crawls over to kiss along your face, helping to calm down your heartbeat as you relax into his affection. Then you move a hand up to him, running it down to the front of his pants. He's.. not hard? “Ah, don't worry about that, angel. I uhm, you know..” He scratches at the back of his neck nervously as he tries to stutter out an explanation. The blush on his face tells you all you need to know.

You mercifully decide to shut him up with a gentle kiss to the lips. The God of Light melts into it, cupping your cheek in one hand as he lies down next to you on the pillow. After you pull away with a smile you're up on your feet. “Come on. We both need a shower now.” Lux grins as he follows you, pressing a kiss to the side of your thigh. He's not as clingy as before, that urge of his sated, for now.

#lux imperator #mr ring a ding #doctor who #lux imperator x reader #lux imperator smut

23 notes · View notes

king-candybug-backup · 24 hours ago

Note

Do you have any writing tips? I wanna get into writing my own fics and such but im really not sure how to start all that

Especially when it comes to pacing a story.. </3

UMMM oh man, this is a hard question lmao, I'm actually not very skilled on a "technical" level, so I always struggle figuring out what kind of advice to give 😅 I guess my main piece of advice would be to brainstorm about the fic you want to write before actually WRITING it, like, I had a whole thought map in the early stages of planning Kill Switch where I'd explore different paths the story could go in, different kind of interactions people could have or where I'd want overarching plots to lead to, basically just write down whatever ideas come into your head, and then from there, you can clean it up and refine it until it feels like a doable story. I had a lot of plot threads for Kill Switch that I ended up scrapping because it didn't feel right to the characters, or completely redoing them until it felt like it all connected fairly well. I also wrote a lot of scenes out of order, like how I mentioned before with chapter 8, I actually wrote the vast majority of chapter 8 before I even finished chapter 2, since that was where my motivation was strongest at the time. It's okay to write stuff disconnected and out-of-order, you can always connect things later! Sometimes I'll write a scene, end up not liking most of it, but will find spots to fit smaller parts of the scene or use pieces of dialogue elsewhere or something, so basically, just write whatever inspiration comes to you in the moment, and you can always repurpose it later if it doesn't end up feeling right. Another thing I'd say is to deep-dive into content about the characters you're writing, rewatch scenes with them until you have a good feel of how they talk and how they act, that sort of stuff. (I'm lucky in that I have a 2-hour character analysis video I can jump back to for inspiration, but y'know. 😂)

As for pacing, that kind of thing is entirely dependant on the kind of story you want to tell. Since I'm doing a long and painful deep dive into a character's mental issues and having him build unlikely connections with people he's hurt severely, that kind of thing needs a LOT of build-up in order to be believable. If everybody just started getting along with Turbo at like, chapter 5, it would feel really rushed and cheap, especially given how much baggage the whole group has with him. (Particularly Calhoun (in that trusting a Cy-bug feels COMPLETELY irrational and like a death trap waiting to happen) and Ralph (in that he's SEVERELY protective of Vanellope, and Turbo basically gaslit him into breaking her kart in front of her and totally destroying their relationship, ON TOP of the fact that he ruined her entire life for several years, like... yeah, would need A LOT of convincing in order for him to believe Turbo has the potential to be better. That's where you have to sit and think "Okay, how can I sprinkle in character development in a way that the other characters can actually see happening?"))

It's figuring out little details like that, what kind of relationships you want to develop and in which way, that makes up what the pacing should feel like. You can't rush trust, you can't rush meaningful, believable relationships, you have to build them up naturally. If you're working with characters that already have a good relationship established in canon, then that's great in that you don't have to worry about that part, you can just have fun putting them into whatever scenarios you want! I would recommend not jumping into long, multi-chapter fics right away though, as those take a lot of patience and work. Try doing some one-shots or shorter-form fics to get a feel for what you like! At the end of the day, the only advice I can offer is the only advice I ever truly take to heart, and that's making sure you're having fun first and foremost. It sounds cliche, but there's literally no point in writing fanfiction if you're not having fun with it. Just go wild! Even if you start out "bad", literally everybody does, you HAVE to write some "bad" stories before you can really get into the groove, lol. If you've had writing experience before, that's definitely a big help, but don't worry about it if you haven't, there's no time limit in regards to when you have to start writing ofc. :) Just dive into it, try not to overthink things, and HAVE FUN! (And always keep in mind, you creating something yourself will forever make you superior to the incompetent shitheads that think using gen-AI makes them "artists/writers" lmao SO YOU'LL ALWAYS HAVE THAT GOING FOR YOU! (half-joking but not really 😂))

#Wreck It Ralph #Text Post #KillSwitch #Asks #Ralph #Calhoun #Turbo #Vanellope

22 notes · View notes

writing-whump · 2 days ago

Note

I am the biggest fan of arranged marriage becomes real love and I hope that something they’ll happen between Melissa and Dominick. It’ll probably take a while, but my fingers are crossed 🤞

So I was wondering, could you write a fic where they are maybe talking about the logistics of their plan and what not and Dominick gets one of his attacks that he got in the fic that we were introduced to him and Melissa has to be the caretaker?

I'm so excited about this ask, thank you for sending it! I LOVE the arranged marriage/fake relationship becoming real too!!🙈💕

Too Late to Lie

"Are you sure about this one?"

Melissa rolled her eyes as Dominick paced the apartment Isaiah had offered her, his critical gaze making the whole thing almost funny.

"Yes."

"Look at how old the furniture is."

Actually, it wasn't half as old as anything she looked for on her own when she sought to rent an apartment for herself. This was in great condition, and the main advantage was, she could move right in.

"Isn't it too small?" Dominick continued, his steps echoing through the living room wooden floor.

"It's more than enough for me and Marcie," she assured him, throwing her loose straight red hair behind her shoulder. Then she stopped, when the idea hit her. "If you don't...do you want to move in too?"

Dominick froze in place, back to her. She could tell by how he rolled his shoulders he was fighting off a reaction he didn't want her to see.

As expected, he turned around wearing that confident smile and the same cheeky glint in his eyes. "It's not really my style."

"Not because of- I mean, if it wouldn't be- wouldn't feel safer for you." She rubbed her palms together, despite the heat. Yes, safe that was the right word. "What if someone goes after you too?"

"I don't think I'm an interesting target. Besides, I have lots of security in all of my apartments."

Melissa didn't want to shoot down his security systems, but it seemed too little against wolves. Or witches.

"Only..." he hesitated, walking in a circle around the living room all the way to the kitchen. "Only if you felt safer. With me here. I'm only 15 minutes down the road though and I can come anytime you call me."

She nodded. She didn't want to put more pressure on him. When there wasn't an audience, his confident shark mask mellowed down a lot. It was easier to talk to him then.

"You don't have to live in the same place, if you don't feel comfortable...yet. But we are going to live in one place...that would help with the marriage story, wouldn't it?"

Dominick's hand went along the counter, seeing how dusty it was. "I have a place for us. Two floors, four bathrooms, someone to cook and clean. You will have every comfort in the world."

Ah. So they were going to live separate lives. Everything planned out so they wouldn't have to bump into each other for anything.

"We don't have to push it yet," she relented. "We can live here with Marcie until the wedding and see what happens then."

He nodded, not looking at her. "I will...I'll get different design suggestions for the place and let you choose what you like. So you can set it up to your taste. I can get it done under a week."

She nodded although she thought it was unnecessary. That was usually they worked since the engagement. All these acts of services. Making sure she knew he would give and arrange her with all possible comforts he could think of.

As if he were paying for every minute of her presence in luxury.em

Everything in her name, to her taste. It was a princess treatment she hadn't imagined in her wildest dreams. She was the fetch girl all her life, she was always proving herself with skills and hard work. It was disconcerting as hell.

Was she trying to show her his power? Capabilities? How rich and connected he was?

Or was it for her sake? Did it bother him what Isaiah said at the meeting? About pretending he cared?

He usually shook off such comments with ease, but something seemed...off today. He was meeting her eyes less, hunched over more and he was constantly moving, like he couldn't sit still.

Melissa liked the place already though. She would pack her and Marcie's things and they could move in here this week already. Let the storm pass.

She was so anxious about it she wished she could speed it up, so it could be over sooner.

His phone rang. He looked at it and then at her, uncharacteristically hesistsnt.

"It's okay," she waved her hands. "It's all done for today. You can go, if you need to."

He looked torn taking the call, then let his hand with the phone down, watching her. "If you woudl like me to...but I don't want to make you nervous by forcing my presence here before you are ready. You have enough to deal with it as it is."

Melissa nodded as he walked into the other room, his voice booming through the walls.

He was good at making things sound like favors — like he was being considerate and thoughtful, when really he wasn’t ready to stay.

...

Melissa didn’t wait for the sound of the front door closing. She curled up on the couch with her arms around one of the throw pillows and let her mind spin in slow, anxious circles until it ran itself out.

She must have drifted off.

When she woke up, the light had shifted. Evening had bled into night, and the air in the apartment felt heavier.

She stretched stiffly and rubbed her eyes — and that’s when she noticed.

The door was still locked from the inside. His shoes were still by the door.

He never left.

She stood slowly, tension creeping up her spine. "Dominick?" she called, moving toward the hall. No answer.

She found him in the bathroom. The light was still on.

He was sitting on the closed toilet lid, bent forward, his elbows on his knees, one hand pressed to his temple. His suit jacket was hanging from the doorknob, and his tie had been loosened, collar damp with sweat.

When he looked up, his eyes were glassy.

"What's wrong?" It felt wrong to step closer. His whole body tensed up and she could see him wince with the pain of straightening, of meeting her gaze with that tiredness. He wasn't bracing for pain, he was swimming in it, soaked with it. There was something terrifying about that awareness, about his dilated pupils.

"I'm fine. Just a headache." He was tilting slightly to the side as if his balance was off, one hand wrapped around the other as if he was holding it straight.

This wasn't new for him. Even the intensity of the pain didn't seem alarming to him. She knew that look from regular patients at the hospital. That resignation.

"You are sweating through your shirt," she observed. Her heart sped up. She wasn't sure how to react. Her clinical doctor side wanted to ask questions, fuss, take care of him. The other wanted to pull back and hide.

She didn’t want to see him weak. Not now — not before the fight they were about to start, the one she’d put all her trust in. In him. In his shark smile and grant promises.

She didn't want a connection from this either. She didn't want to care about this man who held so much power over her life. Saying yes and being mild was hard enough when she didn't care for him.

"Do you have medicine for this?" Melissa asked, trying to stay practical. No need to ask questions she knew he wasn't willing to answer.

How long have you been sick? What hurts? Why? Why are you not fighting it? Why are you not laughing it off? Why?!

"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice sharper now, with jagged edges. "Go home. Leave me be."

She put her hands on her hips, feeling defensive. "Then tell me what kind of help you’d actually accept."

"I don't need your help," he snapped, then groaned, curling his head into his hands.

"Is there anyone else you want me to call?" Melissa said, ignoring the outburst.

A laugh bubbled up. Ironic. "Melissa, please. A headache like this is beneath your attention. Not worth the fuss. I’ll take a short break and head out after."

Such a blatant lie.

If he wanted to take a tiny break he would have lied down in the bedroom, no matter how dusty or unmade it was. He wouldn't have chosen a bathroom.

She scanned him over, his colourless lips, his flushed cheeks, the sweat clinging to his neck and hairline. The tremble in his fingers. The painful frown etched into the forehead that was usually so smooth and composed.

This was not the face he wanted to show her either.

What was she supposed to do? Accept his wishes and leave him to it?

Melissa stepped to the cupboard, looking through it but there were no towels, no washclothes, no linens. No fabric she could use.

Damn it.

She had a light blue blouse over her tank top. The blouse was damp and crumpled from the day, but it would do. The tank underneath was small, a little revealing — but this wasn’t about modesty.

She shrugged off the blouse and put it under the cold water. When it was soaked properly, she turned to him, putting the folded cloth on his nape.

He flinched at the touch, eyes flickering to her now-bare shoulders, the way goosebumps had risen along her arms. "I said-"

"Shut up. We’ve done everything your way today. You don’t get to argue with me now," she said firmly. Her fingers brushed along his cheek and neck, but there was no fever. She focused on his pulse. Elevated, but that could be from the pain.

"Your symptoms."

"Melissa-"

"I can't treat you if I don't know them."

"Does a person not have the right to reject these violating administrations?"

She scoffed. "Why did you choose a doctor for a fiancé then?"

He flinched away from her touch, shuddering. "That's not why and you know it."

"What an added bonus," she said sarcastically.

He was still curled away and tilting even more, like he was about to crumble to the floor. Okay, so the stern approach wasn't working either.

She took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. It wasn't the first time her short temper had made her profession difficult. "Look. You don't have to tell me what this is or prove that this is not why you wanted me here. Maybe you didn't. Maybe you just don't trust me. Fine. But I'm already here, so you might as well make it easier on both of us."

Dominick didn’t answer.

His eyes had closed again, brows still pulled tight. His breathing had slowed, but not in a restful way — more like he was trying to shrink into himself. With that amount of sweat dripping from his face he looked like someone about to fall — not asleep, but apart.

Melissa knelt down, slowly as if not to spook him. Not reaching for him, just close enough that he would feel her presence.

"I'm not trying to win," she said quietly. "I just want to help."

That made him shift, barely. His mouth opened, but no words came. Then he swallowed thickly. "I feel dizzy."

She nodded slowly. Not a full explanation, but it was something.

"Do you feel faint?"

"No." He sounded insulted, but then spread his legs a bit, breathing through gritted teeth. "Might...might throw up if I move though."

"See, that's useful information," she said, already looking for something to use for that purpose. There was a bucket for washing floors and a small bin without a bag. She grabbed it from the floor and put it between his legs.

He squinted at the bin with an angry grimace.

"Do you want me to shut off the light?"

"No. Hurts either way."

Melissa stayed crouched in front of him, steadying the bin with one hand. The other hovered near his knee, unsure if touching him would ground or unnerve him more.

Dominick had tipped forward slightly, his hands braced on his thighs now, knuckles white. His breath came in through his nose in shallow, measured drags, like he was trying to bargain with the pain — to breathe around it instead of through it.

His skin was waxy, flushed in uneven patches. Not quite pale, not quite flushed. His body didn’t seem to know what to do with itself.

She reached out slowly and touched his wrist. “Try to keep your head lower than your heart. That might help the dizziness.”

He didn't pull away this time. Didn’t acknowledge it either.

"Tell me what you need," she said again, more softly.

"I need this to be over." Almost a whine. It pulled at something in her chest. Not sympathy, not yet. But something quieter. Something like dread.

Then came the swallow. A hard, audible one. He brought a hand to his mouth, and for the first time, his composure visibly cracked. A burp fought it's way up, making him flinch with it.

Melissa moved the bin closer. "It's okay."

"I don’t—" He shook his head, still resisting. But his shoulders curled inward, and the next breath he took stuttered.

She saw it before it happened — that tilt forward, that helpless shift in his jaw as nausea overtook pride.

And then he was gagging.

The first dry heave was sharp, wracking his whole frame. She pushed the bin into his hands and he grabbed it tightly before the second burp came. A wet, awful sound followed as milky vomit sprayed out.

Melissa didn’t speak. She didn’t reach for him. Just kept one hand lightly on his arm, helping him hold the bin with the other. Half of his face disappeared in that small container. It would have been comical if he didn't sound so pained as another throaty belch brought up a bubble of puke.

He gasped in a shaky breath, then another retch, rough and miserable, echoing in the small bathroom. It sounded like there wasn’t much left in him. Just pain squeezing through muscle.

"Easy," she said softly. "Don’t fight it."

He coughed once, trying to catch his breath between spasms. There was a whine, like he wanted to say something, but wasn't sure what. Something about that defenselessness made her throat tighten.

And then she did reach — brushing the damp hair from his forehead, letting her fingers rest there for just a moment, grounding him.

He was shaking. She hadn’t realized how badly until now.

When the worst of it passed, he stayed slumped over, breathing hard, arms braced on the bin. Melissa carefully eased it from his grip, pushing it away. "Okay. You are okay. Just breathe."

She sat beside him on the floor, her back against the wall.

She didn’t look at him. Just sat there, smoothing her pants. "And the world kept turning," she said into the tense silence.

A snappy, rasping sound came from his throat. Could’ve been a laugh. Could’ve been defeat.

Either way, it wasn’t a protest. Even if just for a moment.

#emeto #vomiting #sickfic #headache #dizzyness #hurt/comfort #werewolf wip #my writing #Dominick #Melissa

21 notes · View notes

slut4celebs · 2 days ago

Text

The Proposal

Gracie Abrams x Reader

Word Count: 1,012

Trigger Warnings: honestly my writing, a lot of fluff

Request / Synopsis: "...one where Gracie proposes."

request here | masterlist

To say that Gracie was stressed, would be an understatement. She had to force herself not to chew on her nails, resulting in long moments of pacing. Deep down, in her heart, she knew that her girlfriend loved her, and they had definitely discussed this idea (in great detail, might she add). There was still a chance that (Y/n) might reject her, though. The thought of it was scaring Gracie, who managed to gather a large group of her girlfriend's friends. While majority waited at the apartment that she and Gracie had shared, (Y/n) was out with her best friend, who took her out for a movie as a distraction.

Everything needed to be perfect, Gracie had decided. Despite the fact that (Y/n) would potentially come back feeling a bit full of popcorn and a slushee, Gracie had the entire gathering catered. No one touched the food, waiting for (Y/n)'s arrival. Mainly, they were trying to find ways to calm down their friend. However, nothing seemed to be working. Not even when one of (Y/n)'s childhood friends mentioned how, when (Y/n) was falling in love, she couldn't stop talking about her to the point that had a mock swear jar where, every time Gracie was mentioned, a dollar must be donated. That was how they funded movie nights and trips to the club or bar.

"It'll be okay," Sabrina, one of Gracie's friends, put a hand on the girl's arm. Gracie took in a shaky breath at that. Glancing over to the blonde beside her, she could only offer a nod. The fear was not just apparent in her eyes, but it was beginning to make her feel slightly dizzy, to which Sabrina convinced her to sit down. "Alright, we are going to get you some water. They're almost here, and we can't have you passing out right before you propose to your girlfriend, right?"

No protest was given as Gracie took the water offered and drank it, careful to not chug it. When the key jingled, alarm filled her system as she glanced at Sabrina, who gave her a reassuring smile. Gracie knew this was it, taking in a breath as she stood up. As the door opened, revealing her girlfriend and best friend, mid-conversation (but with her best friend subtly recording). When (Y/n) finally processed the people surrounding her, her face went from confusion at the proud, to warmth as Gracie now stood in the center of a pathway they had formed. Now, it wasn't just Gracie's heart pounding in her ears as (Y/n) made her way over, looking around at all of hers and Gracie's friends that were surrounding them.

She said her 'hello's a bit nervously. She was piecing out what was going on as Gracie made her way down to one knees the closer (Y/n) approached. It caused tears to water in her eyes as she looked over Gracie's face. There no longer seemed to be nervousness between the two, just familiarity and comfort. After all, this was Gracie and (Y/n). They were so in love with each other that it was almost sickening. This was a step everyone expected them to make a lot sooner than they had. As (Y/n) stopped in front of Gracie, the ring was pulled out, making (Y/n) gasp and laugh out of happiness at how observant Gracie truly was.

"(Y/n), there are so many thoughts in my head right now. Mainly, that this, our relationship, us, is everything I could have ever asked and hoped for. I remember first discovering who I was and meeting you the day after I had came out. It seemed like fate. It was fate. Despite only dating for three years, I truly can't remember a life without you in it, nor could I picture a life without you in it. Past, future, and present. You are always there." Gracie had to take a breath, tears streaming down both hers and (Y/n)'s face. Some of their friends recorded the event, others took it all in. "I love you. With all of my heart and soul. You mean everything to me. Would you, please, do me the honor of marrying me, and becoming my wife?"

(Y/n) sniffled and nodded, but she wanted to say it too. A 'yes' came out with a soft but happy sob before (Y/n) allowed for Gracie to push to ring onto her finger, a perfect fit, and their lips came crashing together. Cheers erupted in the room. One of their friends brought in a cake that read 'Just Engaged' with their faces in the icing. A laugh escaped (Y/n) at the silly pictures they had chosen for both her and Gracie as she gathered her bearings.

"God, you guys… Thank you all for coming. I expect all the videos and pictures that were taken, to start off with but… Every single person in this room has been with us since the beginning. Some of you witnessing Gracie fall for me, me fall for Gracie, and the lucky ones who got to witness both." She teased with a wink towards her friends. She turned to Gracie, still not leaving her embrace, but they were side to side now. "I feel so unbelievably lucky to be surrounded by you all. Thank you so much… For all of this."

As (Y/n) finished, everyone came to individually congratulate them and food and cake were finally being dispersed. Despite Gracie's suspicions of (Y/n) being a bit full on popcorn and slushees being correct, she couldn't pass on eating Gracie's face as Gracie out hers. This moment was everything she could have asked for. Gracie was her forever, the person she had loved for three years and would continue to love for the rest of her life. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world at that moment, having been able to sit there, engaged, with the love of her life and the best of friends surrounding them.

#gracie abrams x reader #gracie x reader #gracie abrams #anne's pop girlies

24 notes · View notes

eightmakesonebraincell-replies · 1 month ago

Text

it's always so sweet when readers remember a fic and come back to it when they have enough time 🥹🫶 hahaha yes this is the shortest oneshot i've written so far and tbh i actually wanted to keep it under 5k 🤡 not too sure which work(s) you're referring to as my series but i do reckon ever since i started writing oneshots instead of bulletpoint fics it's pushed me to write better 🤧 thank you for noticing and for leaving such lovely feedback <33 will try my best to continue delivering‼️

can i get a name for your drink? yeah, peter parker

genre: delinquent!ateez x bubble tea worker!reader, meet-cute, high school au, fluff, crack

length: 6.6k

c/w: cliche depictions of high school delinquents, mentions of smoking, drugs and clubs, boys trying to act tough, everybody has bad humour, swearing is their mother tongue

synopsis: a bubble tea shop is one of the last places you would expect for a high school delinquent to walk into during the dead of night. yet here you are, forming an unlikely friendship with not one but eight of them. they may be kind of stupid, but they also kind of grow on you.

a/n: a fic with no angst? a fic without a 40k wc?? new writer who dis. just a short and sweet fic @sorryimananti-romantic helped prod me to write

you know that you are probably shaving a couple months off your lifespan each time you work a night shift at the bubble tea shop and subsequently fuck up your entire sleep routine for the next couple of days, but it gives you a bit of extra money, there are hardly any customers, and it is quiet enough that you can squeeze in some studying at the same time.

the shop probably averages about two couples and a few odd individuals here and there per night. why a small business would even decide to stay open during ghost hours in the first place, likely making negative profit, you have no idea. but you digress–you are just here to bum around for money.

so when your average customer number suddenly spikes not just by one, two or three people, but by an entire group of eight, it is safe to say you are more than confused. they are obviously your age because you can recognise the school crest embroidered onto the front pocket of their uniform shirts; it is one of the nearby high schools in the area. except, that is where the similarity ends.

only half of them are wearing their uniform, and even then they layer it unbuttoned over bold statement t-shirts like it is a mere accessory. the others wear black tracksuits and there is not a single pair of proper school shoes to be seen. your eyes cannot help but scan their pierced ears and obviously-styled hairstyles–you are pretty sure the shortest boy has dyed his hair a lighter shade of brown too.

it is hard to take your attention off of him as he takes one last drag of the cigarette in his hand, lazily blowing the smoke out of the corner of his mouth before he flicks the butt onto the floor outside and steps in through the door along with the others. you idly wonder how he got his hands on a fake id to purchase cigarettes in the first place, but at least he is polite about not smoking inside your store.

the group saunters up and you startle slightly as the boy at the front slaps his hand against the counter with the matching confidence to his glorified 6 foot height to demand, “give me a double shot of espresso.” he pulls away his hand to reveal a mismatched assortment of sad coins and crumpled notes.

“we, uh–” you glance not so subtly at the wall-sized menu behind you and the LED lighting decor sprawled across the other three walls with the phrases, ‘you’re a cu-tea’, ‘you’re pearl-fect’, and ‘you’re my bo-bae’, and wonder what gave these boys the impression they could order coffee. “we don’t sell coffee,” you state.

he does not seem fazed by your words at all. “can’t you just, like, charge me for your most expensive drink and make me a coffee?” he asks his absurd question with practiced ease, which makes you think that this is not his first rodeo.

unfortunately for him though, you deadpan, “i physically can’t. we don’t have a coffee machine.”

the boy’s expression finally cracks a little and you can literally see the cogs slowing down to a stop inside his brain. “aw, fuck,” he swears, “this worked last time.”

one his friends shrugs callously and snickers, “what did i say, mingi. told you they wouldn’t have one.”

“shut up, jongho,” he gripes in response.

you gesture vaguely at the laminated menu on the counter beside the cash register. “would you like something else to drink?” you offer.

the tall boy–mingi–takes all but one look at the barrage of words before his eyes flicker back up towards you. “recommend something.”

��depends on what you’re feeling,” you hum your scripted question, pointing to the different sections of the menu. “do you want something fruity or milky?”

he looks constipated as he weighs the two options. “fruity?” he eventually settles, still sounding unsure. “what’s good?”

at the question, all of their eyes turn to look at you intently and you feel yourself wilting internally at the thought of explaining the drinks to a group of boys that look like outright delinquents, because if there is one downside to working here apart from the crippling health impacts, it is the loss of your dignity each time you have to say the stupid names of the drinks.

“well,” you clear your throat and steel yourself, “we’ve got the bubbly butterfly blues, a purple grape and blueberry fruit ade, or the mysterious mermaid magic, a mango and passionfruit green tea with rainbow pearls.” you forge on with your explanations despite the furrowed brows and open mouths of judgement on their faces, deciding to give them a recommendation for a milky drink too just in case. “the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles is also pretty popular. it’s a strawberry milk tea with whipped cream, sprinkles and marshm–”

“i’ll take that one,” mingi interrupts, unable to stand the onslaught of words that make the world around him explode into pink glitter. he drops an additional crinkled note onto the counter for good measure and then strides away to take a seat at the table in the furthest corner of the store to wait for his cutesy drink.

half a snort escapes the back of your throat at the sight. mingi may as well hold a megaphone to his mouth and shout “i am a manly man!” to make himself feel better. what an idiot.

you shift your attention to the rest of the group. “anything i can get for you guys?” you ask.

“fuck it, why not,” the one who had been smoking shrugs immediately. “get me the same thing he’s getting.”

most of the others pass and step away to join mingi at the table as you sort out the payment for delinquent number two’s cutesy drink. when you close the cash register–you are tempted to ask them why they have so many loose coins–the last two of the boys sidle up to the other side of the counter, peering down carefully at the menu.

you frown.

these two are actually wearing their uniform properly, only the first buttons of their shirt undone, no brightly-coloured tee peeking out from underneath, ties still around their neck and shirts tucked into their pants. they are even wearing their name tags; kang yeosang and park seonghwa. also, apart from the fact that the two appear prim and proper enough to be part of the student council, they are also very pretty.

said two look up at you, catch the frown across your face, fumble a little, then give you a small smile as a peace offering. “hi,” seonghwa greets softly, “can we get two regular pearl milk teas, please? thank you.”

you physically recoil.

“blink twice if you’re being threatened,” you blurt out, the words tumbling unwisely out of your mouth before you can stop them and definitely loud enough that all eight of the boys can hear you.

blink twice seonghwa and yeosang do, but not as a confirmation that the stark difference in their appearance and demeanour to the others is a sign they are being bullied into hanging out. they blink to ask–very respectfully–what the fuck you are on about.

they blink at you. you blink at them. the other boys blink at the three of you.

“sure thing!” you vocally sweep your own words under the rug. “two regular pearl milk teas coming right up!”

you swipe yeosang’s payment out of his hands–notes and coins carefully counted out to the exact amount–and punch the number into the cashier before swiftly turning your back to them to make their drinks. if you ignore something hard enough then it never happened. and it works, because they retreat to join the rest of their friends at the furthest table without further comment.

it does not take long to make all four of their drinks, but you do take a few extra minutes to carefully swirl the whipped cream on top of the strawberry milk tea orders and artistically shower them with sprinkles and marshmallows. you want to make them as cute as you fucking possibly can just for mingi.

“two rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles and two regular pearl milk teas,” you call out.

they all stand up, likely ready to leave once they grab their drinks. mingi leads the group with his long strides and he picks up his drink with one hand. he holds it up to eye level to study it like an unknown specimen and the moment he picks it up, one of his friends–you think you overheard the others call him wooyoung–cannot help but blurt out with distaste, “that shit looks sweet as fuck.”

mingi holds his drink closer to his body with a light glare because hey, it does look sweet as fuck but it also actually looks really good. and kind of cute, he will admit. he takes a tentative sip through the straw then a small lick of the whipped cream on top, the scattered toppings simultaneously crunching and melting in his mouth to spread sweet diabetes across his tongue.

it tastes like drugs in sugar form.

and it must show on his face because the tallest of his friends leans over to do the same, taking a sip from the same straw and a lick of the whipped cream from the other side, only far more generous and daring than the drink’s owner.

“bro,” comes the tall boy’s immediate reaction, “i’d get one of these every day.”

wooyoung suddenly looks less dubious and asks, curiosity now piqued, “give me a sip of that rainbow shit.”

“no,” mingi instantly responds, still keeping his drink close to his body and literally turning away to keep it protected and out of wooyoung’s reach. “you insulted my drink. get your own.”

the latter whines and you physically jerk backwards for the second time that night at their complete disregard for following stereotypical delinquent traits. you are starting to think that they are not delinquents so much as delinquent-wannabes and they seem increasingly harmless the more they simply exist.

“hongjoong,” wooyoung suddenly sings out, appearing to change targets to his other friend who had ordered the same drink. he is determined to try a sip tonight without having to spend his own money, but alas–

hongjoong flips him off and cradles his drink out of sight too. “you insulted my drink by extension.”

–determination can only get him so far.

this time, you cannot help the proper snort of amusement that leaves your mouth. you dare to hold your gaze with a lightly teasing lilt of your lips when wooyoung whips his head around with narrowed eyes. the boy cogs turn in his head as he deduces how far he can push the boundaries with you and he must come to some sort of conclusion that you are a newfound stranger-friend because he jokes with a straight face, “i’ll rob you.”

“sure,” you answer easily, tapping in a fake order onto the register’s screen to eject the cash drawer with a comedic ding! emphasising your words.

a few of them guffaw and wooyoung’s expression lights up to actually reach over the counter to help himself to a ten dollar bill. that is, until his hand is slapped away by somebody else with quite possibly the most perfect eyebrows you have ever seen. and no. you are most definitely not jealous.

“i’ll pay for your drink,” the friend chides, digging into his back pocket to fish out his wallet.

seonghwa shakes his head and advises, “don’t enable him, san,” at the same time that wooyoung brattily decides, “nah, don’t want one.”

“god, that’s it,” jongho mutters, starting to usher the group away from the counter towards the direction of the doors. “we’re leaving. mingi’s waiting outside already.”

they let themselves be herded and a few of them even turn to wave goodbye to you at the doors, cheerfully leaving behind the words ‘we’ll be back!’ in their wake as they exit the shop. your hand remains suspended in the air mid-wave even after they have disappeared and you blink blankly at the bizarreness of your entire encounter with the group of boys.

you do not know if they truly mean it when they say they will be back, but you do know one thing; you kind of hope that they do.

“can i get that thing i got last week.”

the tone of mingi’s voice ends his sentence more like it is a demand than it is a question, but the nuance of his words is still a request and already an improvement in comparison to your first encounter with him. if you are completely honest, you are also somewhat happy to see him and the others come back, so you will take the wins where you can. baby steps.

“which one?” you clarify. “i don’t remember.”

you do remember because their group of eight is pretty hard to forget, and they are some of the only customers you ever get. plus, you have made it somewhat of a personal challenge to hear mingi say something as stupid as ‘rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles’, which means that you are going to pretend for as long as you need to.

he scratches the side of his neck. “y’know, that drink you said is good.”

“we have a couple of those. was it the, uh, mysterious mermaid magic?” your head tilts with exaggerated thoughtfulness and from behind mingi, hongjoong and wooyoung cackle while the others look on with smirks, having caught on to exactly what you are doing.

“no, the rainbow unic…” he mumbles, voice growing increasingly softer with each syllable until his mouth is simply opening and closing.

you look at him with faux apologeticness and furrow your brows, “sorry? i didn’t quite catch that.”

“say it louder, dude,” his tall friend nudges him playfully. you are going to need to find out his name somehow because his is the only one you have yet to figure out, and you have a feeling you and him would get along real good.

“the rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles,” mingi finally gets out. if he were a cartoon character, you would see the rising colour of bright red creep up from under his uniform to the tip of his ears and then to the very roots of his hair.

god forbid a manly man purchase a cutesy pick-me-up drink on a friday night.

you smile brightly and use your cheeriest customer service voice to announce, “one rainbow unicorn fairy sparkles for princess mingi coming right up.”

the boy in front of you is flattered to learn that you know and remember his name but is also twice as horrified by the nickname you have crowned him with. his brain short circuits and his eyes widen at you in panicked masculinity and he shoves his payment across the counter before retreating to the same table in the corner of the store where seonghwa is already seated. if you look closely enough, there is a little wisp of smoke coming out from the top of mingi’s head too as he malfunctions. heh.

the boy whose name you still do not know comes up to the counter next. he jerks his head backwards in the direction of mingi and orders, “could i get the same? that rainbow fairy sparkling unicorn or whatever.” the name is wrong but he gets an a+ for trying so you do not correct him, simply nodding and putting his order into the cash register instead.

then you ask for your own personal gain, “can i get a name for your drink?”

he does not appear to question your intentions nor realise he is the only one you have asked because he is too occupied grinning widely at you, unable to curb his cheeky excitement at the thought of what he is about to say. “yeah, peter parker,” comes his proud answer, quite literally naming his drink.

and that is how you find out that he has the best (read: worst) humour out of all of the boys.

it is frankly right up your alley but you refuse to let him one-up you. instead, you use it to your advantage. you nod, “p.p. for short,” dragging the abbreviated initials out for longer so that it sounds intentionally crude.

“peepee,” wooyoung repeats with unrestrained laughter, high-pitched shrieking that sets off the others as well.

and that is also how you find out that wooyoung has the easiest funny bone to tickle out of all the boys.

p.p.’s eyes glint with delight at the fact that you can both take and dish out your own freak. he leans against the countertop on his elbow, which is a sight to behold with how far he has to stoop down because of his height, and exposes you with no qualms, “it’s yunho, by the way, since you wanted to know my name so badly.” he adds a flirty wink for good measure as his friends ooh like the true teenage boys that they are.

you mirror his mannerisms and bat your eyelashes at him to say, “okay, whatever you say, peepee.”

hongjoong intervenes and shoves yunho aside before the latter can fall in love with you and your wack-ass humour or something. he shoos him away, “go sit at the table,” as if he is sending the taller into the naughty corner.

yunho concedes with his hands raised in mock surrender, walking backwards as he reassures his friend, “don’t worry. you won’t hear a peep-ee out of me.”

your facade cracks and you let out a laugh, which only grows louder when jongho takes the liberty to grab a wrapped straw from the container on your countertop to peg it at yunho’s face. it bounces perfectly off the middle of his forehead and lands on the floor, where seonghwa–bless him–bends down to pick it up. you think he might just be your favourite.

“didn’t know you were into that kind of humour,” hongjoong notes with a tone of amusement.

“oh, there’s a lot about me that you don’t know,” you respond, a hint of flirtatiousness in your words.

fuck being professional. these boys would probably be the last people on earth to ever report you for something like a coquettish comment, and god forbid you want to flirt with a couple of really hot guys. the image of hongjoong taking a lazy drag from his cigarette burns at the forefront of your mind as he stares intently into your eyes, and his seeming nonchalance to his own charm only makes him that much more attractive.

he raises an eyebrow, “is that a challenge?”

“only if you’re up for it,” you respond coyly.

san coughs and interrupts, “not to be a cockblock, but can you flirt after we order our drinks.”

the boy in front of you rolls his eyes, pairing it with a loving middle finger at his friend. however, he moves over anyway, half mumbling that he is not going to get a drink. his spot at the counter is immediately snagged by san who mimics yunho’s earlier pose leaning against the surface. “so,” he gives you an overly-smouldering gaze, “tell me something about yourself that i don’t know.”

a bubble of mirth rises from out of your chest and san drops the act utterly pleased with himself. you humour him, though only partially, by revealing, “the desserts here are actually really good. i love the cookies.”

“which one’s your favourite?”

you point to one of the cookies in the second row of the display counter. “the biscoff and peanut butter fudge.”

one of his beautiful brows raises upwards as if to ask why the cookie name is so normal. you give him a miniscule shrug. beats me. he shakes his head with a slight chuckle then requests, “i’ll have one of each cookie and one of each donut that you’ve got.” your eyes bug out of your head because that is a fuckton of cookies and donuts, but san reassures you they all have caves for stomachs.

you get started on their drinks then slide the glass doors open to pull their desserts out, only to realise that yeosang has lingered close by to watch you. he is not wearing his uniform today, instead in a tracksuit like the others but in white. he looks good in that colour and you tell him such, “your tracksuit looks good.”

“thanks,” he replies easily, “wooyoung shoplifted it for me.”

your jaw drops at his sudden confession, too taken aback to appropriately school your expression in time even if you should not really be too surprised by their shenanigans. at your obvious stupor, yeosang’s stoic face breaks immediately and he reveals, “just kidding, hehe.” despite his joke, he blushes to the very tip of his ears like rudolph but elf style and rushes away.

you are left dumbfounded in a good way. one day, you are going to teach yeosang a thing or two about confidence because his uncanny ability to keep a straight face whilst saying the most out-of-left-field thing when it is least expected then leaving the other person wondering whether he is being genuine or only joking is top-tier humour–he just needs to learn how to own it.

you are also left wondering whether there is a single sane soul in this friendship group. you still hold some hope for seonghwa and maybe san, but who knows.

when their drinks and spread of desserts are ready, you expect them all to leave like they did last week. except this time they drag two circular tables closer together in the far corner of the store that they seem hellbent on claiming as their spot, where they then lay out all of the desserts across the joint surface. you watch from behind the counter. there is both a sense of systematic order and chaotic mess to the way they take a bite out of a cookie or donut, nod enthusiastically at how good it tastes whilst shoving it into the face of somebody else, who will in turn take a bite and join in on the enthusiastic nodding and moan an affirmative that it is good.

“wait, this donut is fucking fire,” you hear, and, “this cookie is The Shit, bro.”

they are sort of really fucking cute; boys you would expect to see loitering in alleyways with cigs in their mouths and sneaking into clubs with fakes to pop pills, instead sitting hunched over on cute plastic stools around rickety circular tables sharing sweet desserts like they are at a tea party.

wooyoung catches your gaze over the top of jongho’s head and he gets up instantly to drag you out from behind your counter. all of your warbled protests go unheard as he pulls you by one of your loose apron ties–his strangely endearing way of being respectful not to actually touch you–towards their tables whilst refuting, “there’s nobody else in here but us.”

that is how you find yourself squashed between seonghwa and jongho, your shoulders and thighs touching from close proximity.

“try this blueberry lemon cookie,” seonghwa offers from beside you the moment you sit down, extending the treat for you to take a bite from.

mingi so helpfully reminds, “she literally works here.”

seonghwa shushes him, “yeah, but she probably hasn’t tried everything on the menu.”

he is not wrong. you may have the appetite, but you do not have the physical stomach to try an entire serving of each dessert available in the shop, even if you were to try one per shift. now that the opportunity has handed itself to you on a silver platter, you are not going to refuse. plus, you do not think that you could ever bring yourself to say no when seonghwa is holding the cookie out with both hands so eagerly.

he is definitely your favourite.

you take a tentative bite out of the cookie and eight pairs of shiny eyes do not leave yours until you give them an affirmative and enthusiastic nod at its taste. all flurry of activity starts up again as they continue to trade desserts with those sitting beside them and across the circle. it feels like you are suddenly back in primary school, sharing your snacks out of your lunch box and trading sandwiches with your friends. they include you easily in both taste-testing and conversation, filling your usually quiet shift with antics and laughter.

it has always been a perk that you do not get many customers, but now more so than ever, you hope that nobody comes in for the remainder of your shift–or at the very least, not until the boys leave. in just two meetings, they have all grown on you in their own ways and you kind of want this to become a regular thing. you could definitely get used to this.

despite their appearances and rough-around-the-edges personalities, they are really just a bunch of boys living their life to the fullest in the diabetic form of bubble tea, loaded cookies and glazed donut runs in the middle of a random night.

and honestly? if you had a group of friends like them, you would too.

yunho’s eyes narrow fiercely at the couple who are walking along the footpath outside the perimeter of your shop, daring them to step in through the doors. his glare is not needed though–the very sight of what is going down inside is more than enough for their eyes to widen and for the man to hastily pull his girlfriend away.

“oh look, there goes another two potential customers,” hongjoong notes with sarcastic dismay. “i wonder why people are always in such a hurry to leave.”

yunho blinks his murderous intent away and faces you with round, innocent eyes as you roll your own and cross your arms. your insides wilt at the loss of potential revenue but only by a tad, because whatever business they boys scare off, they make up for several times over. you state as a matter-of-factly, “maybe it has something to do with jongho.”

said boy currently stands about three feet away from you, his arms raised and fists clenched threateningly as the rest of the boys surround the both of you in a circle of sorts as if they are about to witness a bloody fistfight. you suppose it does not look too far from the truth–you are about to get punched in the face.

jongho shrugs dismissively, “it’s not my fault other people aren’t interested in learning how to get knocked out by a sucker punch safely.”

“i don’t think any of those words should go together in a single sentence,” you tell him honestly, unimpressed.

“they normally don’t,” jongho’s mouth ticks up, “which is exactly why you’re learning.”

you cannot win against him or any of them. last week it had been learning how to pop a dislocated shoulder back into place, the week before it had been how to dislocate a shoulder, and then the week before that it had been how to reverse-jump a person if they were chasing you into an alleyway.

it has become an ingrained part of your weekly routine for the boys to rock up during your friday night shift, order half the menu, hang around for hours where you usually join them, then leave until the next week rolls around again. but these random tutorials have only just recently become a new routine within your pre-existing routine.

it all started when wooyoung snuck behind your counter one night while your back was turned to make their drinks and decided it would be hilarious to scream in your face as you turned around. you had jerked backwards so hard that you knocked over the entire stack of blender jars, which toppled over into the dirty sink one after the other like noisy dominoes. seonghwa had made wooyoung personally clean and stack them all again as punishment, but the damage had been done and hongjoong had declared that you would not survive in the real world if a little fright like that could make your butthole pucker right back up into your own intestinal system.

and so had begun your weekly crash courses on survival instincts because according to them, you had none. you had refused to submit to their antics at first, but then yeosang had pointed out, “it’s true. wooyoung was standing behind you like a creep for a full five minutes and you didn’t even notice.” san had also threatened that they would not order anything until you complied each week.

“that’s not fair,” you had complained petulantly. “i just won’t serve you guys at all then.”

san had given you a cheshire grin. “you wouldn’t. we’re like, eighty percent of the total revenue you make during your shift.”

that shuts you up real quick and san knows, so you have no choice but to give in to whatever tomfoolery they choose to teach you for that week. if it is learning to ‘get knocked out by a sucker punch safely’, then so be it.

“okay, i’m all set to be punched in the future,” you declare dryly as jongho reigns in his fist after a pretend swing at your temple, “are you guys going to order now?”

hongjoong nods like he is the little leader of this delinquent gang, but jokes on him because they follow behind you to gather in front of the counter in a single file of sorts with practiced ease, an endearingly crooked line of ducklings. you know right off the bat that it means they already know what they want to order because other times they will come together as pairs or even triplets so that they can umm and ahh over the menu together.

you do not think you can ever take them seriously as proper delinquents–if they even count as such.

as if to prove your point even further, mingi throws up double gang signs and makes a poor attempt to rap, “i want an emineminem,” and when seonghwa not-so-subtly pinches his elbow, he adds on, “please.”

you bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from laughing as your hands automatically move to input his order into the register, long past familiar with what his order truly means; mysterious mermaid magic, because the alliteration of the name ‘m and m and m’ sounds the same as the rapper’s name twice. go figure. you do not know if ‘emineminem’ is worse, or, as san calls it whilst flexing his biceps, ‘the merman’.

the boys have a shockingly terrible incapacity to remember the names on the menu correctly, but it is also partially due to the fact that they could give less than zero fucks about them. they will either say what they think the name is, or what they think the name should be.

they make the rules. you simply follow.

the first time it happened was during their third time at the store. “yo, give me a triple b,” jongho had confidently ordered.

“a fuckin’ what?” you were positive you were having a stroke.

“a triple b,” he had tried again, frowning at how you did not automatically understand him. “the big butterfly bus or somethin’.”

you could not take him seriously. “big butterfly bus? what are they gonna do after hopping on? go to fucking school?” you had jested. “also, you can’t just make up your own name and expect me to–you know what, sure.”

it sort of becomes a game. you will roll over in your grave before admitting it, but it is sort of fun to hear an absolutely rubbish string of words–or letters–come out of their mouths for you to then follow their ridiculous train of thought backwards to work out what the actual drink is. the silly boys with their silly names kind of grow on you.

and you may or may not indulge them a little too much. they are the first to try any new items on the menu, even when they are still technically not meant to be available to the general public. but when they pounce on whatever you present to them on the table like puppies and fresh kibble, it is very hard not to keep doing so. which is exactly why you bring out the batch of cupcakes you had made earlier specifically for them to taste.

they look like normal vanilla-frosted cupcakes, except when you bite into them, there is a dark chocolate cookie inside the base. it is the perfect mix of soft and chewy, and when the gooeyness is maximised by slightly warming the dessert up, it is–

“fucking fire, bro,” yunho says around a mouthful, blatantly ignoring the dirty look that seonghwa shoots him for talking with food in his mouth.

yeosang inspects the cookie at the core. “have you named it yet?”

you do not get a say in what the menu items are named and they always do in fact already have a name by the time the boys get to try them. regardless, you answer, “not yet,” because they love the power trip they get when they have creative liberty over your store’s products.

“i have an idea,” wooyoung pipes up immediately. “the frosted ultimate cookie cupcake.” then in a falsetto voice, he role-plays by himself, “hi, could i get a fucc please?”

mingi snorts himself silly and continues, “actually, could you give me two fucks?”

you oblige, “fuck you, and double fuck you,” flashing your middle finger at wooyoung first then mingi second to punctuate the fucks you are gifting them.

the boys snicker at your crudeness, absolutely delighted. not the type to let any opportunity to swear go by, the rest of them join in as san yanks you down to sit at the table with them before you can roll your eyes and walk away.

and out of all moments, it is this exact moment, when you are surrounded by the eight of them throwing out colourful words left and right with the giddy enthusiasm of toddlers, each holding a half-eaten vanilla-frosted cookie cupcake in their hands, that you realise you may actually give a few too many fucks about them…and not just in a friendly way.

well. fuck.

when you get a call on friday morning from your branch manager the following week, your immediate thought is that somebody finally chanced upon watching the store’s security footage and you have been caught making friends with delinquent customers and literally feeding them with business secrets. except when you pick up and tentatively greet him, he starts to say something that is arguably just as bad.

“i need you to swap shifts with gayoung. she can’t work this tuesday night so i need you to cover that day ‘cause there’s nobody else available,” he informs. “gayoung will cover your shift tonight instead.”

you are still trying to process his words as you repeat, “tonight?”

“yes, so you won’t need to go into work tonight.”

your heart skips a beat. for the first time in your life, you find yourself asking, “can’t i take both shifts?”

“no, you can’t. sorry,” your manager apologises but he does not sound sorry at all.

you have never voluntarily taken up extra night shifts, much less asked to take up additional shifts. yet, there is a heavy sense of disappointment that simultaneously settles itself deep inside your stomach and lodges itself in your throat, because it is friday today and friday night is for your boys. you do not even have a way of letting them know that you will not be in tonight.

you wonder if they will notice your absence and whether they will care. after all, you may just be somebody who happens to work at the bubble tea shop they frequent. but it turns out that they do and turns out you are not.

“where were you?”

those are the first words that are thrown at you the moment the boys walk through the door during your friday shift the week after you swapped nights with gayoung. they stomp up to your counter sporting furrowed brows and pressed lips, and if it were not for seonghwa’s soft smile and warm, “we missed seeing you,” you would have thought that they were angry at you.

you can only imagine how terrifying their demeanours would be if they were actually to be angry.

“my manager made me swap shifts with another coworker,” you explain and their expressions soften immediately.

jongho breaks out into a triumphant smirk as he turns to hongjoong with an upturned palm. “i told you. pay up.”

the latter sheepishly pulls out some crumpled notes as you gawk, “you bet on why i wasn’t at work?”

“don’t mind them,” wooyoung waves his hand dismissively. “hongjoong has trust issues–said that you were avoiding us.”

“i would never!” you refute at the same time that hongjoong exclaims, “i did not!”

“either way, fuck your manager. the fucking audacity to take you off our shift?” wooyoung complains.

you try to keep a straight face at the fact that wooyoung has just very casually claimed your shift–and by extension, you–as theirs. you babble the first thing that comes to mind, “the drinks are all made using the same recipe. it doesn’t matter who makes them.”

yunho’s eyes narrow with offense that you would even suggest a thing. “it’s nowhere near the same.” he is not the only one who wants to tell you that as long as it is not you it will never be the same.

their collective thoughts come out instead through mingi, “nobody understands when we order a triple b or an emineminem or a ‘horse drink’.”

“yeah, no shit sherlock,” you fire back, because apparently sarcasm is your automatic defense mechanism when you are flustered, “might help if you call them by their proper names.”

“or maybe the problem is that nobody knows us well enough like you do,” san insists with a wink and in response, yeosang reveals, “we don’t let just anybody get close to us.”

you joke before you can truly think your words through, “sounds like a you problem then.”

“you’re right,” hongjoong banters easily with smugness.

your nervous fidgeting as you tap useless buttons on the screen of your register gives you away despite your attempts to stay collected. they chuckle and it is difficult not to crumble under their unwavering gazes because it is obvious they can see right through your facade. but can anybody really blame you when you had not been expecting them to reciprocate your feelings of interest, much less admit to it so easily and straightforwardly?

in a last ditch attempt to regain some control over the conversation, you ask, “so, what do you guys want to order?”

from day one, the boys have surprised you in the most unpredictable ways–eight not-quite-delinquent delinquents with simultaneously calloused fists, pottied mouths and insatiable sweet tooth. today is no exception, and you have a feeling that you should start becoming accustomed to their antics because they are here to stay, especially after today.

“what we want to order?” they look at you with confident flirtatiousness. “your phone number and a date.”

taglist pt. one | apply for taglist

@thecarnivaloflies @ilovekimhongjoong @yuranimous @ppprimary @hwas-housewife

@itza-meee @lavishloving @okshu @mizumigi @everythingboutkpop

@ayytease @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @hongjoongsprincess @booyoungie @green-agent

@darkmentalitystarfish-blog @taytayy178 @babymbbatinygirl @oddracha @sourkimchi

@mimilia1801 @kibs-and-bits @mlysalt @jjoongstar @aaa-sia

@nollamuumialaaksossa @skz1-4-3 @minkilicious @joongscheese @ddeonghwva

@delulu18 @teenyfinds @shakalakaboomboo @hxpelesscxven @fureastel

@seomisaho @levishun @lesyeuxdeanna @readerofallthingss @potatos-on-clouds

@apriecotte @hhoneylix @kyeos4ng @smally97 @savluvsmingi

#trying to get back into the pace of writing #your encouragement means a lot <33 #thank you so much for your reblog 😻

1K notes · View notes