#I also said that I'll explain this better and not in the tag. Did i do that? No. Did i care? No💀

[i-tzi]

POKEDDEXY DAY 1: BUG TYPE (#988)

Another year, another Pokeddexy!! 🎉

I honestly don't know how much I'll be able to combine because objectively January is kind of a shitty month for me lol

But WHO CARES, enjoy my boys, see you again at the end of the challenge if I'm still alive lol o|-<

[creative-hanyou-girl]

Just now convinced my mom to watch the Percy Jackson show with me by playing some songs from the musical and showing her the tv trailer. I got her now, boys!!!! I'd call this a win!!!!😈😈😈

We love watching Harry Potter together and I'm hoping Percy Jackson will be the next big thing we marathon together!

Even better is that my mom was asking who Percy's godly parent is and I refused to tell her. She knows nothing about Percy Jackson so I can't wait for her to find out all the stuff I already know.

[reidssluttywaist]

Spencer's lap.

In which you grind against your boyfriend.

fem!reader, season 2 Spencer, +16.

tags: dry humping, a little bit of dirtytalk.

a/n: guys this is so bad I've never written smut before but i had this idea while rewatching season 2 and tried something, this must have a bunch of mistakes and it's not proofread at all, also if anyone wants to rewrite this better please message me lol.

You never thought you'd have to sit for a physics class ever again since you left high school, and here you are, a half hour into your boyfriend explaining very throughly to you how he can make a rocket with 'physics magic', he also made you swear you would never tell his tricks to anybody, 'cause a magician never shares his secrets, right?!

Except you didn't get sleepy like you did in high school, you never paid that much attention to physics since now, the way Spencer's smile explains every detail, the giggle he lets out as he rumbles about different facts of all the physics laws, you're amazed by how happy he is, how his brain is extraordinary.

Hearing his humbles is better than any music you could think of, and paired with the soft sound of the rain falling outside Spencer's place, you feel so cozy and safe.

You and Spencer have been together for a couple of months now, he is your first real boyfriend, both of you are inexperienced in every single part of being in a relationship, sometimes the feeling of love you feel towards him overwhelms you, almost leaving you out of breath, you can't believe how good it is to love somebody, how god it is to love Spencer.

"Wow, that one might be your best! Look how high it went" you said after his most recent "rocket" made its way to the ceiling, Spencer smiling so big and laughing, making you laugh as well.

"Did you see that? I think I've perfected my measurements it's so high!!" Spencer says with a high-pitched voice, too excited to contain himself.

"The only bad thing about this is that you have to clean this mess up" You make a sad face, looking at the place that has little bits of water splashed all over.

"Nah, it's fine! It'll dry out soon enough" he says pretending that he doesn't care about the mess, except he does.

"C'mon, I'll help you clean and make us some dinner after, ok?!" You get up from your side of the couch, and hold Spencer's hand, trying to pull him up.

"I don't wanna get up now, it can wait," He says seriously, you can almost believe him.

You try pushing him up again, but this time he pulls you against him, being more successful than you do you end up falling onto him, sitting on his lap facing him.

"I said it can wait, I can clean up later, ok? I wanna spend some time with you now." He said holding your waist and looking at you.

You've never been on his lap before, you guys make out now and then, but never in that suggestive of a position, and Spencer never makes the first move like that, you feel your stomach filling with butterflies.

"You look so good with your glasses on" You blurt it out looking at him, analyzing his face as he looks at you.

"Can I kiss you?" Spencer says, you don't need words to respond as you press your lips onto his, starting a gentle kiss.

You'll never get accustomed to kissing Spencer, his soft lips, he's so gentle almost like he's afraid you'll run away if he makes any sudden moves, little does he know you won't, you'd never run away from him you feel like you could never get enough from him.

The kiss was now way more intense, your tongue exploring his, his grip on your waist a lot tighter now, one of his hands let go of your waist and made its way to the back of your neck, making you let out a soft moan into Spencer's mouth, making his body shiver under you.

Your hips start slightly moving over Spencer's thigh, the light friction making you want more.

Spencer was breathing heavily, and you could also feel him growing against your leg, he pulled you harder against him, adjusting your cunt to be right on top of his cock, applying pressure to your hips, you moan again, and you could feel yourself get wetter by the second.

"Spence, wanna feel you." You say in between kisses, making him whimper and push you harder against him.

"Fuck" he swears under his breath, both of his hands going to the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. "That okay?" he asks.

"Yes, please." You've never agreed to something so fast in your life, helping him take your pants away, after a few seconds of struggling you were back to kissing him like your life depended on it.

"C-can I take yours?" you whisper, almost scared to say it, he agrees by guiding your hand to his waistband, also helping you take his pants now, you were both only with underwear now, not even bothering to take your tops off, you went back to humping him, your thin underwear fabric soaked.

Spencer's shaky hands made their way onto your shirt, both of them massing your breasts, making noises come out of your mouth and the man under you groan.

"N-need more, Spence." You say grinding your hips harder against him, and bring your hands to his underwear pushing it down just enough so his cock is free.

You start to use your hands on him, slow up and down movements just enough so he can't even keep his eyes open.

"Want your pussy, please, wanna feel you" Spencer mumbles taking your hands off his cock, his hand going to your panties and ripping them out.

That made you gasp, making your pussy even more wet.

Spencer positioned you on his cock, which was resting on his stomach, you started moving your hips up and down, both of you moaning even louder now.

"You feel so warm, baby, you're so wet for me," He says, looking at where your bodies are rubbing against each other, he looks mesmerized by this sight, mouth slightly opened as he applies more pressure to your hips, making you shiver.

Spencer never dirty talked like that before, you could see the blush on his cheeks as he did, this new side of him making your mind blurry and a not start to form on your stomach.

"I'm so close," he says, biting his lips as you try to move even harder for him.

"N-eed more, please, your fingers," you say and he immediately knows what you mean, taking one of his hands out of your hips and bringing it to your pussy, his thumb finding your clit with ease, start moving it in circles making you let out a loud moan.

"Fuck" You let out, not able to keep your eyes open.

"Can you cum for me? Please baby wanna see your pretty face as you fuck yourself on me." Spencer says, that added with his movements in your clit make your mind fuzzy, you felt the heat on your stomach spread to your legs and your body starts to shake, releasing all the tension you were feeling.

"Oh, you're so pretty like that, so pretty when you cum for me," Spencer says, helping you ride out your climax, you were so sensitive by the recent orgasms but you started to move your hips harder and faster on Spencer's cock.

He bites his lips and you feel him grip your ass, his glasses were blurry and it was so hot that he didn't take him out.

He groaned when you felt his dick twit under you, you helped him through his orgasm, kissing him when you were both done, his hands when to your back caressing it, slowly moving up and down.

"That was so good" He whispers to you.

"A dirty talker, huh?! Who would've thought?" you joke, making him laugh.

"Most men are dirty talkers so it's not that uncommon" he rumbles.

He switched up to nerdy Spencer again, making you smile.

You spend a couple more minutes just talking before getting up, you make sure to point all that he must buy you a new pair of panties to pay for the one he ripped, he agrees, saying he would buy more than one because "you'll never know what might happen, right?"

[thealternateuniverse]

How did you handle it?

1st part here

A/N: Didn't expect the number of likes on the first part, thank you so much 😭

Also, I know now who does Paige's braids now. I saw her on tiktok.

Warning/s: Read at your own risk

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

Following Ice's most recent live stream, Y/N's phone is constantly vibrating, and her Instagram feed is overflowing with follow requests and mentions. She didn't leave her apartment on the weekends after hearing from her teammates about their near-brawl on Friday night. She was trying to blow off some steam at the time, but she lost her cool and almost got into it. Azzi gave them a good earful, and Geno had more to say. Y/N apologized to her teammates, explaining that she was acting out of character at the time.

She felt a little better and forgot about her parents' divorce for a while. Not until her father texted her that he will be at her game next week. Dad is always the one who comes to her games; mom is too busy and cannot make time.

Frustrated, Y/N drops the dumbels.

"Yo! "KK, give me back my phone!" KK is running for her life, clutching Paiges' phone. Paige, on the other hand, looks terrified as if her life depends on with whatever is contained within her phone.

"Whaaaat! Dude, I just caught you stalking---asfghgjjhkjlhlk!" Paige caught up with KK and placed her palm on her mouth.

"Shut up!" She took her phone.

KK sounds like a dying goat now, with Paige's hands still on her mouth. Paige lets go of her and KK gasped for air.

"Shit, Hah! I just did not saw you do that P!" KK is shaking her head, laughing.

"I swear K, if you open your mouth I'll make sure that you will nev---" KK immediately zipped her mouth.

"You got it P! Your 'lil secret is safe." KK gave her a mischievous wink.

These two are as mischievous as ever.

Shaking her head, Y/N slips off her sweat-soaked muscle top, revealing only her sports bra. She could see Paige and KK's jaws drop from her peripheral vision. She turned towards them.

"What? "You guys have some saliva here." Y/N pointed to the side of her lip. The two appear to have come to their senses and instantly pretend to do something. Weird. It's as if they're seeing each other for the first time, taking off their clothes. Y/N twisted her hair into a sloppy knot and resumed lifting. She was halfway through lifting when Nika slapped her bum.

"Babe, I need you to braid my hair. Do you have a sec?"

She nodded to Nika and followed her. They walk past the others who were working out, and Y/N couldn't help but notice Paige and the way her biceps and deltoids popped while doing that damn pull up. Get a grip, Miller; you see your teammate doing this on a regular basis. Y/N reprimanded herself.

"So is mine eye enthralled by thy shape," Nika recited dramatically.

Nika came out laughing after noticing Y/N glancing at Paige.

"Don't worry, babe; she gets it a lot. And... Damn, did you just realized she's fine? You have to keep up; you have a home court advantage here." Nika winked. Y/N gave Nika a puzzled glance. It's not that she likes Paige; she just admires the muscles. That is it.

"I don't know what you're talking about, babe." Y/N said making Nika snort.

"Okay, alright. I'm blind, I can't see, must be my poor eyesight."

Y/N endured Nika's teasing while doing her hair; she doesn't want to appear defensive, so she allows her friend and pretends that Nika Muhl seeing her looking at Paige Bueckers didn't affect her.

"Thank you, Baby. "I love the braids." Nika blew her a kiss before they returned to their routines.

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

Paige glanced around cautiously before scrolling through her phone. She couldn't afford to repeat the same mistake that had led to her being caught by KK. She wasn't stalking, though; the algorithm following Ice's live had led her to Y/N's tagged photos and edits on Instagram. It was kind of annoying that Y/N was now known for being the "pretty girl" from the team instead of for her talent as a player. Paige had witnessed firsthand how great Y/N was during her time at Stanford. If it weren't for her MCL injury during her second year, she would have been neck and neck with Nika's stats in the last 2022-2023 conference.

"Girly, you are still not done? Man you are really living up to be a stalker ." KK tried to glance at Paige's phone, Paige was quick to hide it.

"I am not!" Paige responded defensively.

"Of course, why stalk when you can see her every day. Home court advantage." KK playfully raised her brows and gestured towards where Y/N is, shooting 3 point shots. Yeah, Paige mused to herself. Paige knows she's got the home court advantage, always playing on familiar turf. Y/N, on the other hand, is a social media ghost, her posts as rare as a shooting star, reserved only for strategic brand alliances. Just like she guards the offensive players on the court, she protects her privacy with the same intensity, keeping her personal life shrouded in mystery.

"You are not gonna like this." KK's gasp breaks the silence, drawing Paige's attention as she leans in, sharing her latest sports article discovery. With rapt interest, they both delve into the words, their silent communion speaking volumes as they absorb every line, lost in the world of sports unfolding before them.

Sports Agent Katherine Taylor-Miller Entangled in New Romance Amidst Divorce

In a whirlwind of events, sports agent Katherine Taylor-Miller finds herself at the center of media attention following news of her divorce from husband Craig Miller. The prominent figure in the sports world, best known for representing basketball star Breanna Stewart, is reportedly embarking on a new romance with Los Angeles' top firm lawyer, Drew Ross.

While Taylor-Miller has remained tight-lipped about the circulating photos online, indicating her involvement with Ross, sources close to the situation confirm that the divorce proceedings are well underway. The couple, who share a daughter, aged 22, are navigating this transition as their family dynamic shifts.

Adding a layer of complexity to the situation, their daughter, a talented athlete in her own right, has been making waves on the collegiate basketball scene. Initially playing for Stanford University during her freshman and sophomore years, she has recently transferred to the University of Connecticut for her junior year, following in the footsteps of her mother's client, Breanna Stewart.

The unfolding saga has captivated both sports enthusiasts and gossip followers alike, as speculation mounts about the implications for Taylor-Miller's career and personal life. As the situation continues to develop, all eyes remain on the high-profile sports agent and her newfound path forward.

Paige's confusion bubbles to the surface in her question. "Wait, so... that is Y/N's mom?"

KK nods solemnly. "Yep. Didn't expect that."

Paige's brow furrows as she scans the article again. "That article is nasty. It was unnecessary to mention, Y/N."

The two exchange a knowing glance before their gaze shifts towards Y/N, who remains blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the tabloids.

KK weighs the options for a moment before nodding resolutely. "Very. She's not gonna like it. Do we tell her?" KK's gaze seeks approval from Paige, who meets it with a shake of her head, silently acknowledging the delicate situation and opting to shield Y/N from unnecessary distress for now. "She'll find out sooner."

KK lets out a low whistle, her disbelief evident in her tone. "Unbelievable. I never thought her mom is Katherine Taylor. That woman was a badass, but yeah, whoever wrote this has some unpaid rent due." Paige nods in agreement, a hint of frustration tainting her expression as they both recognize the injustice of the situation.

The sudden thud startles both Paige and KK. Their heads snap towards the source of the sound, only to find Y/N on the bench-side taking a water break, her hand suspended and her phone on the floor.

"That's what we're talking about."

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

Y/N absentmindedly follows her teammates to Subway after they decided to grab some lunch there. Despite the buzz of camaraderie around her, she's lost in her own thoughts, savoring the simple pleasure of a break from today's events. Just as she starts to believe her day couldn't get any better, her world is rocked by the unwelcome intrusion of her parents' divorce being publicized.

Her heart sinks as she grapples with the sudden exposure of her family's private turmoil. Y/N has always been fiercely protective of her personal life, preferring to keep it shielded from prying eyes. The earlier article had already crossed a line, but this latest development feels like a betrayal of trust, a violation of the boundaries she holds sacred. She can't help but feel a surge of anger and frustration at the unnecessary intrusion into her family's affairs, a bitterness that threatens to overshadow the sweetness of her teammates' company.

Y/N finds a glimmer of solace in the silent solidarity of her teammates. As they gather around the table at Subway, not a single word is spoken about the tumultuous news that has shaken her world.

In that moment, Y/N feels a profound gratitude wash over her, a deep appreciation for their unspoken understanding and respect for her boundaries.

"The salad won't eat itself," snapped Paige, jolting Y/N from her deep thoughts. Y/N mechanically took a fork, but her salad remained untouched.

"Eat up, Miller. You need your energy." Paige commandeered the fork and began mixing the salad for Y/N.

"How did you handle it?" Y/N's voice trembled with vulnerability, causing Paige to pause mid-stir.

Paige didn't respond immediately, her mind racing to grasp the depth of Y/N's question. It didn't take long for the realization to sink in—it was about the divorce.

"When your parents divorced? How did you handle it?" Y/N's eyes glistened with unshed tears, a vulnerability she hadn't intended to reveal. Paige felt a pang of empathy twist in her gut. Y/N's question caught her off guard.

"Nevermind," Y/N murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she wiped away the threatening tears. Determinedly, she finally began to eat her salad, hoping to distract herself from the emotional turmoil of the day.

As she savored each bite, Y/N made a conscious effort to push aside the weight of her parents' divorce. Her phone buzzed incessantly with texts and calls, but she only mustered the strength to respond to her dad via text. All she wanted was for their divorce to be finalized so they could all move forward with their lives.

Her thoughts drifted to the inevitable changes ahead. Her mom and dad would each go their separate ways, free to pursue new relationships if they so chose. While the idea of their family no longer being whole was a painful one, Y/N knew it was time to accept reality.

Above all, she yearned for one simple request: no more articles portraying her solely as her mother's daughter. She was determined to forge her own path, to carve out her own identity separate from her family's legacy.

-------

"You okay, babe?" Nika asked Y/N, slinging her arm around her shoulders. Y/N responded with her most convincing smile. "I'm fine," she assured Nika, though the skepticism lingered in her friend's nod. "Just so you know, we're here for you, okay?" Nika offered a comforting hug. "Thanks, babe."

As they strolled back to the university after lunch, Nika, Azzi, and Aaliyah had already forged ahead for their afternoon classes, while Paige had disappeared into god knows where. Y/N's afternoon lay open; no classes to attend. She pondered whether to take a stroll around her apartment's neighborhood or indulge in a swim in the pool.

Waving goodbye to her teammates as they reached the university's parking lot, she contemplated driving back home.

Sighing, Y/N parked her car and headed towards her apartment, only to be surprised by a waiting Paige Bueckers holding a pint of Ben & Jerry's chocolate fudge ice cream.

"Paige, don't you have a class or something?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige still in her training attire: a UConn Huskies hoodie, basketball jersey shorts, socks, and slides.

Paige handed her the pint without saying anything.

"You asked me how I handled my parents' divorce," Paige shrugged.

"W-well forget it. I didn't mean to ---"

"It was hard. I thought we were a happy family, that they had vows, through thick and thin, for better or worse type of shit. I was angry, wondering what could possibly make them decide they weren't meant for each other. They had me for Christ's sake. It hurt to think that one day they'd meet someone new and start over, and what about me if that happens?" Paige took a deep breath before continuing.

"The good thing is, I was able to understand that it's better to have that divorce than to pretend they're still happy. I saw how happy my father is with his new family, happier than he was with my mother... All I'm trying to say is, whatever you feel in your current situation is valid—all the thoughts running in your head, the what-ifs, they're all valid. You'll come to terms with it soon, just give yourself time to feel it. And don't forget, you have us. It sucks to be a divorce child if you don't have siblings. It's okay, Miller. You can mope, you can lash out, feel it all the way."

Y/N burst into tears, sobbing uncontrollably, surprising Paige, especially considering they were in a parking lot. Y/N didn't know why the floodgates had opened—was it the news of her parents' divorce? The stress of the article? Or perhaps simply the ice cream? Regardless, she found herself releasing all the pent-up emotions.

"Christ, Miller. I didn't expect you to break down right here," Paige panicked, attempting to pacify her, though Y/N continued crying loudly.

Paige gently grabbed her hand, and together they walked towards Y/N's apartment, Y/N still sobbing loudly.

"People will think I made you cry." Paige said shaking her head.

They entered Y/N's apartment, with Paige leading the way as Y/N was too preoccupied at the moment. Paige settled Y/N on her couch and opened the ice cream she had brought. Y/N accepted it and took a spoonful, still teary-eyed.

Paige looked at her friend in disbelief, finding her oddly cute in this vulnerable state, with red, glistening eyes and puffy cheeks from crying.

They sat in silence, letting the ice cream provide comfort. It worked, as Y/N's tears eventually ceased.

"Thank you, Bueckers. I needed that cry and... the ice cream. How can I ever pay you back?" Y/N leaned her head on Paige's shoulder, grateful it was Paige who knew her favorite ice cream flavor.

Paige pretended to ponder the question. "You don't have to. Just get back to being yourself," she said, gently ruffling Y/N's hair. Y/N sighed in contentment.

"I mean it, though. Thank you for being here. I was resigned to being miserable today," Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude. They exchanged glances, and Paige found herself momentarily lost in Y/N's mesmerizing eyes. There was something about them that drew her in. She quickly looked away, not wanting to get too carried away and do something she shouldn't.

"Yeah, it's nothing. Get yourself together, Miller," Paige replied, more to herself than to Y/N, feeling her ears grow warm.

"Are you okay? You seem... red?" Y/N asked, noticing Paige's flushed cheeks.

"Not as red as you are. You look ugly when you cry, Y/N," Paige remarked, trying to lighten the mood.

Y/N stiffened at the comment. This was the first time she had heard Paige address her by her first name. The surprise on Y/N's face caused Paige's brows to furrow.

"What?" Paige asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Nothing, you've never called me by my name before. Or maybe you did, I just didn't hear you," Y/N shrugged, trying to downplay it. She didn't want to make Paige feel awkward.

"I just don't know what to feel hearing it from you. It sounds different," Y/N admitted.

Paige choked on her response, caught off guard by Y/N's vulnerability. This woman will be the death of her one day. -----------------

[gabigabigabby]

least you've got points | l. norris

lando norris x sainz!reader

part one / two / three

the landosainz saga

a/n: p17 to p5 😭😭😭 that's the a/n. also kika is so mother in this, get ready to watch her boss lando and pierre

synopsis: lando gains 12 positions in the mexico grand prix. aka ln4 masterclass

face claim: sophia weber

ynsainzzz

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55 and 937,664 others

ynsainzzz ig grid full of lando is kinda too fangirl of me so my fit today !!!! BUT LANDO P17 TO P5 HOW COULD I NOT BE PROUD OF MY POOKIE TODAY 🧡🧡🧡

tagged: landonorris

view all 92,733 comments

landonorris I love you princess 😆😆🧡

ynsainzzz landonorris i luh youuuu

francisca.cgomes LAAAANDOOOOOOO

ynsainzzz francisca.cgomes 😆😆😆

landonorris francisca.cgomes KI KI KI AYEEE

francisca.cgomes could swear i thought u said rookie 😭😭

ynsainzzz francisca.cgomes that's my oscarpiastri 😂

oscarpiastri ynsainzzz proud to be your rookie Y/N 😅

pierregasly Don't really care about seeing Lando on your Insta grid 24/7, just please shut up about stroopwafels

ynsainzzz pierregasly but... but they're good 🥺

landonorris pierregasly are you shaming my girlfriend for having a stroopwafel addiction?! You and me outside Gasman 😡

pierregasly landonorris aight bet you muppet 😡

francisca.cgomes pierregasly landonorris sit down you two 🙄

landonorris francisca.cgomes okay sry Kika 😔

pierregasly francisca.cgomes sorry Kika ):

username francisca.cgomes damn you've got them in a chokehold bestie 😳

francisca.cgomes username 😭😭 god i am not your strongest soldier

username2 i knew you were one of us miss y/n 😆😆

username3 I missed seeing you on your own grid 😭 she really is one of us

ynsainzzz's story

ynsainzzz

liked by lewishamilton, carlossainz55 and 993,197 others

ynsainzzz mexico dump is here!!!! + since you all love when i explain each pic...

1. me in the ferrari garage since mr. carlossainz55 practically dragged me by the ear to come watch him during quali (dw landonorris i was watching you the whole time😉)

2. dinner w carlitos that night. again, dragged me by the ear

3. the amazing amazing mclaren pit crew. srsly i love you guys thank you for all your hard work 🙏🏽

4. landoscar. need i say more

5. me fangirling outside lewis' garage bc yes he's my friend but he is STILL lewis hamilton 😳

6. lewis. i caught a meme of lewis. am i lucky or am i lucky

tagged: scuderiaferrari, carlossainz55, mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton

view all 69,663 comments

landonorris Baby I live for your dumps. And I mean every kind of dump.

ynsainzzz landonorris wow you really love me

landonorris ynsainzzz word. take that Y/N's exes

ynsainzzz landonorris okay yeah don't do that.

carlossainz55 I did not drag you by the ear, stop being so dramatic. Can't a brother just feel like having his sister's support right then and there for a while?

ynsainzzz carlossainz55 okay big man, no need to write a whole ass essay in my comments 💀

carlossainz55 Also I paid for dinner stop whining

ynsainzzz carlossainz55 obviously, you know i'd never go on a sibling date with you if you're not paying

francisca.cgomes ynsainzzz that's a W sister right there

carlosainz55 francisca.cgomes come on Kika, on my side for once

francisca.cgomes carlossainz55 nah. the y/n side is the better side. sry carlos

lewishamilton Did me dirty in the last pic Y/N 😅 you promised you wouldn't post it tho

ynsainzzz lewishamilton sorry lew it's too funny not to!!! 💜

pierregasly It's nice to see red on your grid ❤️

ynsainzzz pierregasly leave me alone im still mad at your stroopwafel comment

pierregasly ynsainzzz come on Y/N, I already said sorry 😭😭 come on I'll buy you all the stroopwafels you want and I'll never say another word about it ever

carlandoooo ynsainzzz if it's any consolation, i love your obsession with stroopwafels Y/N

ynsainzzz carlandoooo you're my best friend. i'll tell kika to add you in the grp chat

carlandoooo ynsainzzz love you 😘 see pierregasly it's not hard to embrace the stroop

francisca.cgomes carlandoooo on god

[d6volution]

Ringmaster.

Rating: Explicit.

Caine/Reader. | Fem aligned reader.

tags: fingering, body modification, aphrodisiacs.

minors dni.

Chapter 1: Escapades.

It had been about a week since you showed up, well got stuck in this digital world. Instead of wallowing in your bedroom, you decided to take a walk towards the digital lake. Trying to recreate the feeling of getting 'fresh air.'' For a moment you actually felt.. at ease until a bustling voice startled you. 

"Gooood morning, Y/N!" Caine said, a little too loudly for your liking. "I hope you got all the artificial sleep you needed, because you and I are going on a very special adventure today!" Caine was floating next to you, as you hadn't stopped walking. 

His announcer voice was definitely more overwhelming and somehow louder in the early hours of the morning. "Wait.. us? What kind of adventure?" The words just clicked, he doesn't.. usually go on adventures with you all. 

"Worry not my dear, that's exactly where we're going now!" He exclaimed and twirled his baton until it was facing you for added dramatic effect. He wrapped his arm around your waist and much like during the tour on your first day, he yanked you into the tent in mere seconds. But in a more secluded section of the brightly colored building. 

You were dizzy and holding your head as your feet were somehow on the ground now. "Wh.. Wha.." 

What you didn't notice until your dizzy spell faded was the heaviness to your chest and .. other strange feeling in parts of your body you hadn't felt before. Your once "normal" body ... well— in the digital sense at least, was closer to humans now. You still had the same outfit, but now it was filled out with sizely breasts among other things. 

"Caine.. what is this..? What the [censor!] did you do!?" 

"Now now, what did I say about such foul language? And that my sweet little, Y/N is all going to be explained .... Right now!" He spun into the air, raising his hands to keep the dramatics up to par.

"You see, your giddy old ring master here needs entertainment of his own don't you agree!? So you will be that entertainment! And don't you worry your pretty little head, I'll even give you a head start!" 

He said and snapped his fingers, and just then you felt a strange sensation course through your body, it caused your knees to buckle and body to grow immensely hot. "W.. What's going on..." You muttered, feeling heat grow between your legs and nipples growing hard against your clothes. 

Caine was staring for a moment, watching you fall apart at the snap of his fingers.

He cleared his throat, "Now this should be very simple and might I say fun too! Just keep your body satiated and satisfied and the effects still eventually wear off!" 

"S.. Satisfied.. you can't mean.." He wanted you to masturbate!? 

"Oh , but I mean it my dear! Now chop chop!" He waved his baton and a floating chair appeared, just a few feet above the ground. Caine sat down and watched. 

"You can't be s-serious.. ! I can't do that while you're.. watching!" You felt extremely self conscious , but just as he said your body was becoming increasingly hot and the urge to touch yourself only grew with every passing second. Your mind was clouding with lust and your better judgement was flying out the window. 

"If I don't watch how else am I supposed to keep tally off everytime you climax my dear? It's very important to keep count!" As he spoke a chalkboard appeared next to him, also seamlessly floating in the air. 

"Oh! Perhaps it'd be better if we had more company?? I could invite Zooble! Or even Jax!" He exclaimed, speaking as if this was the most normal thing in the world. 

"N.. No, no!" You had to save yourself from further humiliation. You looked up, and Caine wasn't in his chair anymore.

Suddenly you felt two hands groping your chest from behind, and you yelped in surprise. Unfortunately whatever Caine did to your body was having such a strong effect that you were melting into his hands. 

"See? Was that so hard dear! You just needed a little push is all!" Caine spoke from behind you, without hesitation he slipped his hand up your shirt and groped your bare breasts instead, pinching at your nipple which made your knees weak. 

"C.. Caine, sensitive..!" You whined, grabbing his arm, but he didn't stop.

"That's the point im afraid! Perhaps if you started sooner you wouldn't as sensitive but! Now that I think about it I prefer it this way!" He laughed , the sound reverberating throughout the room. 

Your hand seemed to move on its own, trailing towards your cunt that was already leaking. You stuck your hands in your pants and began to rub gentle circles onto your clit, it was so sensitive that your own legs closed around your hand. "Please..hha.." 

Your noises were like music to his ears, causing him to 'accidentally' pull at one of your nipples rather hard, causing you to yelp and jolt in his arms. 

"Whoops! Sorry my dear, seems my hands have a mind of their own today!" 

He could see your hand disappearing into your pants, sensing how gentle you were being with yourself seemed to make him just a little.. agitated. "Now now, you'll have to do better than that!" One of his hands pulled itself from your shirt and instead yanked your hand from your pants. Replacing it with his own. 

You were too deep in this cloud of lust, and body subsequently too weak to fight back against his advances.. not like you really wanted to anymore.— 

"Ah, here we are!" He stuck two fingers inside of your wet cunt, and they slipped in with ease. He didn't take his time and immediately pumped them in and out at a rapid pace. Behind that jolly visage was an incredibly impatient man it seems. 

"C.. Caine, Caine..! Hhaa! Please!" You whined and babbled out as he mercilessly fingered your hungry cunt. 

"That's my name, don't wear it out my dear! Now how about a third?" He added another finger, stretching your cunt out deliciously on his fingers. Yet you still took it with ease, and after a few more pumps your body got tense, knees buckling as you cried out in pleasure. 

"You made quite the mess I'm afraid!" He commented and slowly removed his fingers from your cunt, running his big tongue along his dirtied fingers.

"Caine.. finished now..?" You said, leaning against him for support. And he held you firm enough that you wouldn't fall.

"Of course not dear! The tallyboard isn't here for nothing , we're just getting started after all!" He says with pure excitement and just like he said..

there was one mark on the tally board.

[blingblong55]

This town -Simon "Ghost" Riley

pic credits: @ave661 (middle and right)

Based on a request: (Its a long as so I'll link it so you can read the anons idea) Link here ---- F!Reader, childhood!friends, hidden feelings, angst, friends to strangers ---- A/N: Songs that also fit: Too Young- Louis Tomlinson, This Town- Niall Horan, Back to the Old House- The Smiths, Always you-Louis Tomlinson

It's a story to tell over at the old pub you and he used to hang around on the weekends. But how can a man begin to tell the sorrowful story? How can he explain in his bruised hands he holds the locket you gave him when you two were kids? He will maybe ask if this was a curse, the only curse an old soul like his has. 

It could've been something, it would've been something, it should've been beautiful. 

In this world, it was always he and you. Scraping your knees when jumping off the rocks near his home. Playing tag in the street until the moon greeted you and his mother would call his name. It's the kind of beginning all beautiful loves start with. Friends since childhood, went through life together and by 28, he would have proposed to the girl he had loved his whole life, 40s would be of dropping the kids at school, 50s of early retirement and 60s were for the potential grandkids, 70s would've been the stories shared of their early lives.

Would've...what a shit word that became in his life. 

In the teenage years, after you had some glow-up, you became the girl everyone knew. The pretty, popular and funny girl the school knew of. He was the friend of the popular girl, the one people barely noticed or cared for. Simon was the same kid who always had a scar or bruise on his face, compliments from his father. One thing Simon hated more than the bastard of his father was the guy you were with. Bloke knows nothing but how to wank and fuck any living thing, he recalls.

Why were you with such a guy? It was a must. Like those cheesy movies where the pretty girl stays with the popular guy, all for the status of each other. Your feelings weren't real for that guy. He wasn't funny, wasn't smart and he wasn't Simon. The boy you shared a kiss with at age 7 because of an accidental bump whilst running through the grass. 

It was during a small break between classes that you found him drinking water. You smile. He always did look good, even the stupid bruise on his jaw made him look so good. 

"Y/N," he straightens up. "Simon," you smile cheekily. "Oh no, what's that smile for?" He crosses his arms over his chest and you can't help but get lost in his honey eyes. "Well...I was wondering if maybe we can...talk?" You say, unsure of how to word this confession. "Did my mum put you up to this?" 

"No, this is...me just wanting to talk." 

"Go on," his voice softens. Does he always do this for you?

You hesitate, but what is life without words? You breathe in and say, "I like you...there I said it and... don't stay quiet because you know I get nervous and I will continue to just talk and talk and talk and-"

He cuts you off by saying, "I'm sorry, Y/N, I... don't..think..this..well I just don't feel that way for you. We're friends, nothing more," he ends his part of the conversation, pats your back as he walks away and you are left in the corridor of the school alone. 

As Simon walks to his classroom, his heart and mind fight the words that he had just said to you. Why was that mean? Did I even mean to say them? He thinks. 

Graduation happens. You and he never talked after that day. Not even a congrats or a hug, life went on without him in your life. Throughout those last months in school, he felt a feeling of regret when he'd see you with that guys arm around you. He would occasionally walk around the old park just to see if you would still go on your daily walks. 

By the time he was about to leave town, he found himself at the old house. He heard your parents moved to a new part of town, so if this was the last time he heard of you, it better be on his terms. And as he walks through the pavement, he finds himself looking at your window. He leans over a car, lights a cigarette and just waits to see if maybe you or some ghost roamed the home. 

Was it the feeling of losing a friend that hurt or losing his one chance to feel something other than pain and hatred? Maybe it's just nervous, after all, he leaves tomorrow. 

You were both just 16, it was puppy love, nothing would've lasted if he reciprocated those feelings, right?

And if it was, why does he feel some kind of hurt as he packs his bags? Why does he want to run to your new home and call your name? Is there a reason why? It's not love, it can't be love, he thinks. I'm not worthy of that, you've heard my dad, he says out loud. "Simon?" Tommy opens the door. "Tommy, not today," he looks back at his bag. "...Fuck" he whispers. 

It's been a long nineteen years since he last saw you and heard your precious voice laugh at a cheesy joke of his. Nineteen years and the feeling in his chest is still there when he arrives home. Manchester was always home for him, it was the only place he knew best when he came back. 

One day, as he was cleaning his closet, looking for his dog's leash, something fell and hit his head. "What the fu-" he looked down and there it was. 

"Why give me this?" A thirteen-year-old Simon asked you. You smile, "You said you wish you could always be near me so you can feel safe...and since I'm going to my nans for the week, have this locket on you, and I swear I'll be there. Keep it safe, okay?" you kiss his forehead before entering the car. He nods and waves, "Call me, Y/N, please!" he calls out and you nod. "Every day!" you scream out as the car drives further away. 

A smile falls on his silent lips, "...Y/N..." his thumb caresses the design. Once he opens it, he feels as if he is that young again. "Are you still there, Y/N?" He whispers and then, realisation hits. It was never nerves or whatever bullshit he told himself back then, it was love, always has. 

All the dots are connecting. For the past nineteen years, he always had some love or whatever all those hookups and awful relationships were, but never did they stick around. Never did he feel more for them than what he has always felt for you. His cold heart still beating warm when he thinks of you. You are all he has ever known, the smiles, the late-night confessions, stories, the silly inside jokes, the feeling in his chest today. 

He hasn't seen you in years, what if you don't remember him? What if when you see him, your heart doesn't call his name when he screams yours? Will you ever even forgive him? Will you wrap your arms around him and call him home like he has called you? 

He must find you, so he calls and looks for you in every corner of this place. He finds nothing, just more lost hope at every corner he looks into. His heart and mind excited each other at the thought this would be some sappy romance moment. His mind creating a script, all truths, just finding better words to tell you he loves you, loved you the moment you kissed the similar scar on the knee at the park when he cried over the pain. He's loved you from the day he learned to say your name. 

Why does he miss you so much today?

Why must you be the drug his body needs? God does he miss you and your addictive heart. 

He has been around the world, where he could've found a good woman who made him happy but no, his heart has always belonged to one girl. You. 

By the time he gets the street right, he finds you sitting down and as he smiles and nearly runs to you, he stops when he sees this image of you. 

Sitting by the fountain, he sees you and a man. His arms wrap around your body, giving you darling kisses as you chuckle. It was then that Simon Riley knew this was it. He will spend his entire life wandering earth, looking for another soul like yours. You didn't see him of course, your fiance capturing all your attention. Simon was close to not caring and pulling you away from that man, but that would be cruel. And as he tries to make up excuses for this man being near you, he sees the ring. 

Oh...oh you fool, he thinks. 

His heart is near death. It screams your name, trying to find you so it can keep beating but when you don't whisper, Simon nods and lets his heart die. Let it rot, so it can learn its lesson, he thinks. 

It would've never bloomed, Simon and you...right?

It's no use to even go and say hi. The locket that contained your picture was still in his fist. It'll be the last reminder of what was meant to be a life romancing in dark streets through town. 

In his head, the home you dreamed of will forever be just a dream. No four kids, no library, no big kitchen so you and he can dance around at midnight. No you...no him...it'll all be stuck and dead in this town. 

He crossed rivers, mountains, and enemies and survived wounds soldiers like him get, all to come home to you. And all this was for nothing. In his world, he would've married you, given you chubby babies and late Saturday mornings. No gun, no bomb and no other man would've kept him away from you. 

In his mind, he is with you. In his dead heart, he sits by and watches that chubby baby learn to walk. He would've adored seeing you in a white dress, walking to him as he wiped tears away when he d his dream of a perfect life was minutes away from being real. 

What a mess he is as he asks for another drink. A mess he never should have been if he had told you that your name is carved all over his body. 

It was this town that saw him live and it'll be this town that sees him die because if he can't have you, at least he has this place. 

A/N: Remember, I collect tears for potions, so please drop them by for collection, thank you. - The place of tears co.

Tags: @liyanahelena @mangowafflesss @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @rvivienner @Krinoid24 @iruzias @frazie99 @idklols @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @Juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @willowaftxn83-87 @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @pbcartii @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @Nyx_Flower @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @kaoyamamegami @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @sleepyycatt @believeinthefireflies95

[eternalxvenus]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ broken promises pt. 4 ࿐ྂ

summary: Rafe promised to take you out and spend your birthday with you, but you don’t hear from him all day and then suddenly he shows up at your door trying to explain.

wc: 1.8k

notes: i really hope you guys enjoy this chapter!! part 5 will be the final chapter for this series! (there were a few people who asked to be in the tag list but i can't find the asks in my inbox anymore im so sorry!! if you happen to see this comment/message me again to be added!)

previous chapters: part 1 | part 2 | part 3

You woke up this morning and felt so much better than you had in the last few days. Rafe not only cleared everything up, but he also practically poured his heart out for you. Now you both would head back to OBX and hopefully everything will be normal. Both of you know Topper lied and you'll probably have to talk to him about it, which is something you weren't looking forward to.

Leaning over the bed you glanced down to see Rafe's shirtless body still sleeping. You got off the bed with your blanket and snuggled up next to him on the floor. Immediately, you question how he was able to get any sleep down here. As you tried to get comfortable, Rafe stirred awake. You looked up at him with an apologetic expression. "Good morning. I wasn't trying to wake you."

He groaned softly, looking down at you before smiling at you. "Sure you didn't. Good morning, sweetheart." Rafe rolled on top of you, leaning in to give you a kiss before you stopped him.

"Morning breath," you said with a shake of your head, placing your hand over your mouth. He gives you an unamused look before moving your hand away.

"I don't care about morning breath. I gotta make up for all the time I spent not kissing you these last couple of days."

Rafe gave you one long kiss on your lips. It was so soft and caring like he wanted to express all his love for you with the feeling of his lips on yours. He slid his hands down to your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. "God, I missed you, baby. You have no fuckin idea," he whispered.

You couldn't help the smile that grew on your face. "I missed you too." Sitting up, you moved from under his hold and leaned against the side of your bed. "But we aren't having sex in my parents' house, especially while they're here."

He placed his head in the crook of your neck before sighing, "It's okay, I can wait." 

"Alright, let me up so I can go brush my teeth and get ready," you giggle, pushing him off you lightly. He rolls onto the floor dramatically. "I'll be here waiting."

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱��•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

While you were going around getting ready, Rafe's eyes followed your every move. He knew that he probably looked creepy staring you down like this, but he was just appreciating you and how he was so lucky to have such a beautiful girlfriend. Rafe was attracted to you the moment you both met at the country club. Your confidence, your style, even the way your perfume still lingered in the air even after you left.

He'd never admit it but you had him wrapped around your finger the minute you agreed to go on a date with him. You were too good for him, so accepting and supportive even when he'd try to push you away. Love wasn't enough to describe how he felt. He was fucking obsessed. Willing to do anything and everything for you. His personal heaven.

The sound of snapping brought him back to the present. "Hello? Did you hear me?" Rafe shakes his head. You roll your eyes, something he can never take seriously when you look so damn stunning. "I said I'm ready to go."

He gave a brief sign of acknowledgment so you'd know he heard you, but his eyes were focused on eyeing everything from your hair to your shoes. "C'mere, I wanna hold you for a bit," he said softly. He rarely ever heard himself like this, the soft side of him being reserved for those special moments with you. The moments when his heart felt like it was beating so fast it would come out of his chest, or his face would heat up with a light tinge of pink on his cheeks.

You made your way over to him and straddled him on the bed. "What, you miss me giving you all my attention?" you teased.

Rafe gave a small smile before kissing your forehead— He knew better than to mess up your lip combo so soon— "Yeah, something like that."

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Since Rafe had brought his truck with him to the mainland, he drove you both back to the ferry going to OBX. He didn't talk much during the drive or the ferry ride back but he kept his hands on you at all times— holding you in his lap, putting a hand on your thigh, or an arm around your shoulder— he was keeping you close.

Once you arrived on the island, you thought Rafe would take you straight home or to Tannyhill until he mentioned having to stop somewhere first. You didn't think anything of it but when you saw The Boneyard coming into view you looked over, confused. "Rafe, what are we doing here?"

"I just gotta take care of something alright? Stay here I'll be right back." He got out of the truck and started making his way toward the sea of people drinking and hanging out.

With a sigh, you got out of the car shortly after, following behind him. Immediately you saw him heading in Topper's direction, making you pick up your pace to catch up to him.

Rafe reached Topper just before you did and was staring him down with his arms crossed. "What's up, Top?" he said in a harsh voice. Topper gave a confused look at his attitude before trying to seemingly move on. 'Hey Rafe, what's good, man?"

When you reached them you put your hand on Rafe's arm in an attempt to pull him away. "Come on Rafe, please just do this later." You didn't want to make a scene with all these people here or risk him getting in trouble, but he ignored your attempts.

"Do you wanna tell me why you told my girl I cheated on her?" his voice was eerily calm as he spoke, you almost wished he were yelling instead.

Topper looked at Rafe in silence before he shrugged. "Listen, man, you were coked out of your mind and got all up on your ex. I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't even remember. But it's on video and everything, I was just trying to look out for her and do the right thing."

By this point, a few people who were close enough to hear the conversation had started watching, eager to see what was going on. Kelce, who had been standing next to Topper, looked just as confused yet interested as everyone else.

"Oh, so you have the video? Let me see it then." he urges.

Topper rolls his eyes but takes his phone out and plays the video. It's the same one he had sent to you that you now know is old. "See man? I'm sure you regret it or whatever but it happened. You fucked up." he has a small smirk on his face as he said it like it was the hard truth.

Rafe licked his lips and nodded. He pulled his phone out and showed Topper the photo that was actually from the party. "You took this photo at the party, right?" Topper nodded "So?" A chuckle left Rafe's throat. "So... I'm wearing two completely different outfits. Why don't you show me the date on the video Top."

Topper was silent for a few moments before his smirk dropped and an angered look took over his features. "You don't fucking deserve her, Rafe! You know she'd be better off with me. You'd choose drugs over her, you would choose yourself over her!"

Your eyebrows shot up at his outburst. Topper was jealous. Rafe got closer to him, getting into his face. "I should've known you'd go after her. You were the one who convinced me to do the coke after I told you I'd quit you fuckin' prick!" Topper shoved Rafe but he only stumbled a little before lunging at Topper and throwing a punch. Kelce and a few other Kooks who were close by rushed over to try and break it off but Rafe wasn't letting up.

"Rafe! Stop, let's just go!" you shouted, trying to get his attention. Someone had finally gotten them off of each other, and Topper was bleeding from the mouth with and his eye was starting to swell. You could see the blood on their clothes and on Rafe's knuckles. It was unlikely someone would call the cops but you wanted to get out of there before things could get worse. Before you could get far enough, you heard Topper yell "She's just another piece of ass anyway!"

Pulling Rafe away from The Boneyard and back towards the truck, you sigh, noticing the bruise forming on his cheek. Both of you got into the truck and Rafe started to drive to your place, still pissed off.

"You didn't have to do that Rafe..." you tried to keep your voice soft, not wanting him to think you were angry.

Rafe scoffed, "That fucker deserved it. He's lucky I don't kill him." You said nothing for the rest of the ride, and neither did Rafe.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

After what felt like forever, you saw your house come into view. The truck rolled to a stop, and Rafe shut off the engine, placing his head on the steering wheel. "I'm sorry," he muttered. It almost seemed like he felt... ashamed?

"I'm sorry for doing that... I let him get to me. I shouldn't have gone in the first place." he explained. You felt bad that he was beating himself up for letting his anger get the best of him.

You leaned over the center console to place a kiss on his non-bruised cheek. "It's okay. Let's just get inside and forget about it."

Rafe nodded, and you both got out of the truck to head inside. You made him take off his dirty, bloodied clothes and put them in the wash, leaving him in his boxers. With a little convincing, he allowed you to tend to his busted knuckles and ice his bruise for a while. There was a silence between you that was both comfortable and strained up until you'd gotten in bed.

You were laying on his chest tracing shapes along his skin while he stroked your back soothingly. "Hey Rafe," you spoke softly looking up at him. His eyes were closed, but he wasn't asleep. "Yes, sweetheart?"

"I thought of something you could do to make my birthday up to me, at least a little bit."

He opened his eyes looking down at you lovingly. "What is it? Name anything and I'll make it happen."

You bit your lip to try and suppress your devilish smile while climbing on top of him in a straddle position. Leaning in close, your lips ghosted his as you whispered, "How about some belated birthday sex?"

part 5

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

taglist: @readingsmuts @1aarii1 @bingbongbum @stargirlsturniololover @babygirl229 @poisonedsultana @rafescamshoe @devils-blackrose @spiderflunk @quicksilversg1rl @emmalandry @trevorspengler69 @carolb111 @fals3-g0d @monkichixo

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 [Part 2]

Everyone sometimes needs that special push- that one good reason- to break out of old shells, walls and habits, and make that change.

Tags/Warnings: Non-Idol Jungkook, Dog Hybrid!Reader, former criminal!Jungkook, mentions of past neglect/abuse, reader has some pretty bad psychological problems (OCD, Anxiety, Selective mutism, hints at an eating disorder), hypersomnia, road to recovery, hurt and lots of comfort, angst, Jungkook has some problems with aggression and swears a lot, more TBA in future chapters

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: You can have early access to this and other selected fics on my Patreon!

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It's right where he thought it might be.

You're basically drowning in the fabric of his sweater, but he's also never seen you so visibly calm during sleep. He can't even be mad about it- even though he usually does get rather irritated about his own clothes being taken by others.

He hates it. But for some reason, if it's you, he doesn't mind.

In fact, he's got to admit that you look cute like this. "We'll take a small walk to the park with the dog hybrids today. They need their time outside." Hana informs him as he puts the card hanging from the red string around his neck, so staff knows who he is. "They're all ready at the front, so you can go and check in with Yoha." Jungkook furrows his brows.

"What about her?" he asks, pointing to you who's still napping in the corner you're usually found in.

"She doesn't tag along." Hana says, as if he should know that. "She's not mentally fit for trips like that."

"I mean, on paper." Jungkook says, almost scoffing. "But like, did you ask her?"

"No, because she never comes along." She says rather defensively now. "Jungkook please, we know her better than you. Just stay here if you don't want to come along, but don't try and lecture me or anyone else here who's worked with her and other hybrids for years." She scolds.

But it seems like she doesn't know Jungkook.

Walking over to you, he's careful not to touch you, well aware that it could freak you out especially if you're asleep.

Doesn't know you, he scoffs to himself. He knows you better than her it seems, that's for sure.

"Hey." he tries, but you're sleeping too deep. "Hey, puppy. Wake up." he demands again, and now he can notice your ears moving, eyes opening after a few seconds, until his eyes widen at the sigh. You're smiling. Your tail is wagging.

You look genuinely happy.

"Hey there." he says, unable to hide his own smile either. "Hana said we're going to the park. You wanna come along?" he wonders, and he can see for a second that you're hesitating. "It's okay if you don't. No hard feelings. Just thought, you know, I should ask." he adds on, when you slowly sit up, playing with the strings of your sweatpants.

Then, you point at your shoes.

"Oh fuck, yeah, I forgot!" he shoots up, running to his bag where he pulls out another plastic bag, before running back to you. "I bought them a size smaller cause those you have seemed to big, but if you wear like, I don't know, socks or some shit in them they might fit." he explains, before pulling out some slip-in chelsea boots with almost no heel. Your eyes are like dinner plates at the sight. "Would be a good chance to try them out, no?" he wonders, nodding towards the small crowd of dog hybrids at the front, Yoha already counting everyone it seems.

So much for 'she doesn't ever come along', he angrily thinks.

And then, you pull on his sweater to get his attention. "Hm?" he wonders, just for you to hesitantly grab his sleeve. "I'll stay with you if that's what you're scared of. And we can go back at any moment." he reassures.

And that's what seems to make it work for you, because you move to slip into your new boots, before you get up and grab your coat from the hangers close by. He wants to say something to the staff-

But he composes himself, bringing you along to the front where Yoha and Hana already wait.

"Here." Hana says, giving him a yellow reflective.. Leash? "It's mandatory for her. I'm sorry, but without it-"

"Yeah yeah fucking protocol crap, I know." he grumbles more or less to himself, snatching the leash from her hands before he carefully clips it onto your collar. He cringes at the sight, hates it, and he hates it even more that somewhere in the backside of the logical part in his brain, he understands it.

He also comforts himself with the fact that you seem perfectly fine with the arrangement. It gives you a sense of security, equal as if holding onto his hand but without physical contact. You're skittish, still very much scared, but walking close to him seems to calm you down enough to make it work.

He didn't think you'd genuinely play at the park like the others do, and you don't- but that's fine.

The fact that you're here, that you're outside and at least attempting to find your way back into life away from your little bubble you've created shows him that you're not a lost case at all. A bit of work, and you could surely be adopted by someone nice who looks past all those issues. But somehow, the thought of you living with someone else makes him upset.

He knows he's not a good fit for someone like you.

He's talked to his best friend about it the night prior. It's a lot of responsibility already to live with a regular hybrid- but you're special needs. And considering his past mistakes and criminal record, there's simply no way to file for emotional support or therapy assistance.

It's beginning to rain a little, and he throws the hood of his sweater over his head before making sure your jacket is zipped up properly as well- like second nature.

You've noticed this before as well. He looks scary, with his piercings and tattoos and bold body and angry gaze. But he only looks that way. He's like a guard dog for you; a protector, because with him at your side nothing bad will ever happen. He's nice, a bit rough, but always friendly in his own way.

You like him.

Meanwhile Jungkook himself can't see what you see in him.

He's not the right person for you.

Next to him, you're perfectly content with your situation. Your tail is wagging sometimes in shared excitement when the hybrids in sight throw and catch a ball, but you also don't look like you actively want to participate. Watching seems to be more than enough, though you do check in if he's still next to you, tail wagging eagerly when he responds with a short smile your way.

He's not the right person for you, and he knows this.

When you walk back, he can feel your fingers grabbing the edge of his sleeve tightly, weighing his arm down a little. He notices the way his skin brushes against your fingers every now and then- feels how you do not react anymore, at all. There's a small moment of pure bravery, the sight of a road ahead, and the view of every hybrid standing in pairs holding hands that leads you to carefully slip your fingers between his. He quietly responds, holding your cold hand in his warmer one, thumb running circles over the soft back of your palm.

He knows he's not the right person for you.

But he wants to be.

[writingforstraykids]

More than friends

Pairing: Minho x Chan x fem!reader / Minchan x fem!reader

Word Count: 5069

Summary: Having a crush on both Minho and Chan, you hate seeing them stupidly in love and happy. One day, you snap at Chan, hurting Minho in the process. Minho picks you up the next day since you two have a lot to talk about and sets some boundaries...

Tags/Warnings: angst, emotional hurt/comfort, jealousy, friends to lovers, first kiss, fight between reader and chan, minho calls reader kitten, jealous!reader, protective!chan, soft!minho

A/N: Have fun reading 😊~Moon🌙

PART TWO

I can't help but love you Even though I try not to I can't help but want you I know that I'd die without you War of Hearts ~ Ruelle

You've known Chan your whole life, your mothers being best friends and having you only a few months apart. He's been like an older brother to you growing up, and you knew there'd never be a better friend than him. You've been heartbroken when he had to move to Korea to work hard for his dreams but supported him nevertheless. Growing up, you had a crush on him, which only grew as he got older. About a year ago, you went to visit him and got to know his roommate Minho, who happened to be the main dancer of his group. Minho was very polite and fun to be around, and you became friends fast. Going back home, you realized you had also developed a small crush on him. When you visited two months later, Chan very nervously confessed that he was bi, which didn't seem like an issue to you at all until he told you that he had a boyfriend now. Minho. 

It broke your heart a little, realizing you wouldn't have a chance with either of them now, especially because you promised Chan to move in for good once you'd moved to Korea. You've spent days crying in your room, trying to be happy for your friends but pitying yourself at the same time. But of course, you moved in with them two months ago, knowing there was no chance you'd be able to afford your own apartment in the beginning. For a while, it went well until you started to get jealous of Minho. He had not only stolen your heart but also your first crush. 

-

Minho sits next to you on the sofa, helping you with your assignments for university since you sometimes still struggle with Korean a little. You like his way of explaining things to you, making sure always to sprinkle in a joke when things get too frustrating. Everything is fine until Chan comes back home from the company, plops down on the sofa, and wraps his arms around Minho, pulling him into a loving kiss. "Missed you," he tells him gently, and Minho smiles sweetly, squeezing his hand. 

"Of course you did," he teases lovingly. Chan hums softly, deepening the kiss and brushing back his hair lovingly. "Channie," Minho says softly since you're sitting right next to them. 

"Oh please, she's seen almost as much of me as you have," he snorts, kissing him again. You glance at them and feel quite lonely, seeing how soft and caring they are with each other. This is all you ever wanted, with someone like Chan. Or Minho. 

"There's dinner in the fridge, love," Minho tells him, pulling back. 

"Great, I'm starving," he nods, and Minho laughs. 

"Go take a shower, I'll warm it up for you," he says. 

Chan's face covers with a beautiful smile. "Aw, you're the best, baby," he smiles. "Isn't he the best, Y/N?" he asks, finally acknowledging your existence. 

"Chan," Minho says gently, getting up. 

"Sure thing," you shrug, focusing on your laptop. "He's your boyfriend, you kinda have to say that." 

Chan frowns at you. "Well, he wouldn't be mine if he wasn't," he tells you. 

Mine. Something you had longed for him to call you for years. "So you're saying you'd replace him as soon as something better comes along?" you ask, knowing you are being mean now. You don’t dare to look at Minho but notice how he has stopped moving in the kitchen. 

"That's not - Min, that's not what I said," Chan protests. 

"Don't pull me into this," Minho laughs halfheartedly, slowly stirring his food. 

"Yeah, don't, you can talk for yourself. You don't need your perfect boyfriend to do that for you as well, do you?" you ask, and Chan's jaw drops. 

Minho bites back a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment. He knows what's going on; he knew from the moment he met you. The way you gazed at Chan wasn't how you looked at your best friend. He really likes you, he loves spending time with you…alone. As soon as Chan is there, you act all different, almost seeming jealous. "Chan, love, didn't you want to take a shower?" he asks gently, trying to deescalate the situation subtly.

Chan ignores him. "Why are you being such an ass?" he asks you. "You got enough sleep last night?" 

"That was a little hard with you fucking his brains out last night," you give back sourly. 

It grows very quiet in the room, and Chan stares at you, stunned. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry," Minho speaks up, and it's the first time you look at him. He looks embarrassed, uncomfortable even. "I told you the walls aren't that thick," he whispers to Chan. 

"I wouldn't care, it's your home, after all. You're just not exactly quiet," you say, mentally slapping yourself for that comment. Minho's eyes widen, cheeks flushing red with embarrassment, and the spoon drops from his hand. "But you seemed to have a great time, so I guess that's fine." 

Chan takes a look at Minho, who suddenly looks very anxious. And that pisses him off immensely. "Y/N." 

"What, Chris?" you ask, switching to English. You know Minho has struggles keeping up with it. "You think I wanted this? You've always talked about us moving in together once I'm done with school." 

"Well, I have a boyfriend now, you said you liked him. You said you'd love getting to know him more and move in with us," Chan snaps right back at you, having enough. 

"I didn't say I'm okay with watching you make out with him on the sofa. Listening to you having sex next door. Hearing all that disgustingly cute stuff you tell him all day," you give back, and Chan's expression darkens. 

"He was here first, idiot. This is his home as much as it is mine, and he was the one telling me you could move in with us," he tells you angrily. "He did nothing but being kind to you, making sure you feel welcomed and have everything you need." 

"I seriously don't get it, Chris. You could've had everyone. You're warm and open to everyone. Why would you go for him? I know you think he's perfect, but he doesn't open up to you the way you do. How can you be with someone unable to express their emotions?" you ask, watching him grow pale. You know you're making up shit now, so pissed that Chan and Minho, the only two guys you ever fell in love with, had to fall for each other. 

Chan turns to Minho, who is staring at you in pure shock. "She's talking shit, baby," he says worriedly. 

Minho swallows hard, tears brimming his eyes, as he puts down the spoon and turns off the stove. "I-I think I'll let you two continue on your own," he says quietly, unable to meet your eyes. 

Your heart sinks, realizing he must've understood more than you thought. "Oh god, I'm so sorry," you say timidly. 

"Liar," Minho says, grabbing his phone from the sofa. Chan reaches out for him, but he gently shakes him off. "Please don't, this is a conversation I don't want to be part of anymore," he tells him. "Sorry for waking you up, it will probably happen again if you intend to stay here," Minho tells you before leaving without another word. 

Chan looks after him, and you two remain silent for a moment. "What the fuck was that?" he asks then. 

"I'm sorry," you tell him quietly. 

"Something is seriously wrong with you," he says sharply, making you flinch a little. "He's amazing, and if you're too blind to see that, that's your issue. Don't make it mine." 

You chew on your lower lip nervously. Yes, Minho is amazing. He is funny, he’s kind, he is incredibly beautiful and caring. That is exactly the issue. "Chan, come on." 

"You switched languages to exclude him, how bitchy was that? And you fucking knew he understands, he just struggles with speaking it," he tells you, clearly pissed off. "That's so messed up, I don't even know what to say. I don't want to hear another word from you today, you've crossed a line." 

"Fine," you huff and collect your things, quickly going to your room. You throw your things onto your desk and swallow hard. You've been really awful, Minho didn't deserve that. Sighing, you look around the room and groan, seeing all the things Minho had paid for when you came here. One time, Chan was working he had taken you on a shopping spree to make your room more comfortable. On the desk is a picture of the three of you and some of the day you met Minho's cats for the first time. You stare down at his small comments in your book so you won't forget them again when you study on your own. Now you feel like a complete bitch and only want to disappear. 

Minho sits at the edge of their bed, staring out of the window. He's nervously picking his skin and chewing his lower lip at the same time. He doesn't turn when Chan steps inside, being able to tell it is him by the way he moves. The mattress dips beneath Chan's weight as he sits down next to him. 

"Minho, baby?" he asks softly, and Minho takes his hand, still not looking at him. "You're okay?" 

"No," Minho answers quietly. "I know you told me not to believe in those things," he tells him and feels fresh tears brim his eyes. "But why do I keep hearing them as soon as someone wants to hurt me?" 

"Minnie," Chan says gently. 

"People always go for your weak spots then," he says. 

"Your weak spot is how insecure you get when someone talks shit about you, she knows that," he tells him. "It's not that you're cold or unable to open up." 

"I thought I was being more open," he says quietly. "Also with her, even though I usually don't when I don't know someone that well. Fuck, Chan, I made her her favorite meal from home because she said she missed it today. Now I feel fucking stupid for doing it," he admits. 

"She's being an asshole," he tells him, and Minho laughs weakly, shaking his head. 

"She's hurt," he says. "She can't blame you, so she blames me." 

"What? What did I do?" he asks confused. 

Minho turns to him, a big tear rolling down his cheek. "You fell in love with me, Channie." 

Chan stares at him before his eyes widen. "No way." 

Minho smiles sadly as Chan cups his face, wiping his tears away. "I know that look. She's heartbroken. I can't blame her for that." 

"Even if she is, which is ridiculous, it's not okay to hurt you," he says sourly. 

"Love makes us do weird things," he shrugs his shoulders. 

"You mean like me tripping down the stairs and landing on your flowers because I got so nervous?" he asks, and Minho laughs. 

"Yeah, like that," he smiles gently at that memory. 

"Oh, come here, baby," he says softly, pulling him into a tight hug. "No matter what others say, you'll be nothing less than perfect to me." 

Minho squeezes him tightly, burying his face in his chest. "She's been your best friend your whole life, I hoped she'd like me." Which wasn't the whole truth. Minho thought about you a lot and started to like you more and more. Sometimes, he even thinks he is starting to fall for you. 

Chan doesn't know what to say and kisses his head. "We'll figure this out, okay?" he asks after a moment, and Minho hums gently. 

-

When you finally dare to leave your room again and make your way downstairs, you spot them on the sofa. Minho's sitting on Chan's lap cuddled up in his arms with him. His reddish eyes meet yours as you grab yourself a drink, and you can tell you hurt him. "There's still some left for you," he says suddenly, nodding towards the stove. 

"Oh, thank you," you barely get out. 

"You need help warming it up?" he asks, knowing you are struggling with the stove still. 

You nod timidly, and Chan stares at you as if he wants to tell you that this is Minho's way of showing how much he cares about someone. Not words but actions. 

Minho gets up and steps next to you, testing the temperature first. The only sound that can be heard is the TV playing in the background for a moment. 

"Min, I'm sorry, I don't know what has gotten into me today," you tell him quietly enough only for him to hear. 

Minho sighs softly and glances at you for a moment. "You know exactly what was going on."

"What?" you ask nervously. 

"I'm not blind, Y/N. I know you've been in his life much longer than I have, and you've probably cared for him the way I do for a longer time as well," he says gently and grabs a plate for you. "I can't change the fact he told me he loves me… what should I have done? Neglect my own feelings? Hurting him and myself instead by pretending I wasn't in love with him the moment I met him?" he asks and fills your plate for you. "We can't decide who we fall in love with, but we also can't decide who falls in love with us," he tells you, and you'd like to be mad at him, but you can tell he means well. "Don't ruin what you have by being jealous of me," he says with a passionate smile, handing you your plate. "Now stop sulking and sit down, our show's about to start." 

You stand still with your plate for a moment until he gently grabs your shoulders and pushes you forward. Chan watches the two of you quietly as his boyfriend makes sure his best friend feels comfortable. He can't believe how kind Minho's heart is sometimes as he also hands you a blanket. Minho climbs back into his lap, intertwining their hands, and relaxes into him. You quietly eat your dinner, paying attention to the screen and trying to ignore the fact that Chan hasn't said a word since you came. "It really tastes just like home," you tell him timidly. 

"That's good to hear, kitten," Minho smiles at you shortly, and you feel even more guilty. 

There was no way you could hate him. Minho was a literal angel, and you got why Chan fell that hard for him. Minho's naturally beautiful, he's funny, and he's the most caring person you know. The more time you spent together, the more you thought he even outdid your ever-caring Chan with that. You don't know why you chose to say exactly what he had told you his haters say about him. Because you knew he wasn't any of that. 

Once the episode ends, Minho gets up and gently ruffles Chan's hair. "Don't stay up too long, you have a busy day tomorrow." 

"I'll try," Chan nods and smiles as Minho leans down, cups his face, and kisses him sweetly. 

Minho grabs your plate as he passes you by, gently patting your shoulder. "You stay calm tomorrow during your exam, you'll do great." 

"Thank you," you say quietly. When you look over at Chan, he's giving you a look that screams "bitch are you serious?". You wait until Minho's upstairs and turn a little. "Can we talk about this?" 

"I'm not the one you should talk about that to," he shook his head. 

"I hurt you too," you try gently. 

"I don't know what was going on, and I don't think I want to," he tells you firmly. "You have to get one thing, Y/N. He's my boyfriend, he means everything to me, and he makes me so damn happy, which you wanted after that shitty training period. I know this might make you feel left out at times, and I'm sorry about that, I really am, but I won't start hiding in my own house." 

"I get that," you nod gently. 

"I love you, but if you ever talk shit about him like that, you'll get into serious trouble with me," Chan tells you. "Don't think I wouldn't tell him the same if it had been the other way around." 

"Okay," you whisper timidly. 

Chan searches your eyes for a moment. "Min cares about you so much more than you could even imagine," he tells you. "I wish you could see that." Something that Minho had told him in the beginning was that he was open to the idea of having more than one partner. Chan knew you were Minho's type, and how he cared for you showed him he was probably right about his suspicion of Min developing a crush on you. He couldn’t blame him for that because you were beautiful inside out.

“What?” you ask, confused.

“You’ve been hopelessly romantic for as long as I can remember, but you’re so blind when it’s right in front of your eyes,” he sighs softly and gets up. “I’m gonna get some sleep now, I suggest you fix this with him tomorrow. I’ll kick your ass if you didn’t when I’m back home.” 

“Relax,” you sigh softly. “I already tried to apologize.”

“You tried?” he asks, amused.

“Yeah, he… never mind,” you tell him, ignoring his confused expression. 

-

Minho gently blows a strand of hair from his eyes, leaning against his car. He adjusts his sunglasses as someone looks at him suspiciously. He knows the look; people wondering if it’s actually him and debating if they should walk up to him or not. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he crosses his legs casually and sighs softly, squinting his eyes as he looks up the facade of the university building. 

“What’s so interesting up there?” you ask, turning and looking up as well. 

Minho chuckles softly. “Doesn’t it look like rain later?” he asks, looking back at you as you turn, your hair falling down your shoulders as you do. He smiles a little to himself as he takes in the sight of you and eases your bag from your hands. “How was the exam, kitten?” he asks curiously. 

You search his eyes, wondering if he was fucking with you. But there’s no anger, no disgust, and not even the hurt that had filled his beautiful brown orbs only yesterday. He seems…genuinely happy to see you. “I think I did alright.”

“Great,” he nods, satisfied. 

“What-what are you- I didn’t expect to see you here today,” you finally get out, squinting your eyes at him. 

“Why?” he asks calmly. 

“I-uhm-I mean-,” you stammer and swallow as he reaches up, brushing back your hair for you. 

“This is me being open,” he tells you kindly. “I know I’m not great with words, but Channie always says my actions speak for me, and I started to like that thought. So no, even though you’ve been a complete dick yesterday, I won’t let you take the bus and risk getting soaked.”

“I…I hope you know I didn’t mean what I said yesterday,” you tell him.

“Why did you say it then?” he asks, making you nervous. He searches your eyes for a moment before nodding to himself. “You did want to hurt me. Maybe even get me so far that I'd pick a fight with Chan, saying what a shitty best friend he has, which would lead to him being pissed at me.”

You watch him put your bag in the back of his car and open the door for you. “Minho,” you try gently. 

“Get in,” he says firmly, and you comply immediately. He gets in himself, buckles up, and starts the car. "I may seem like it sometimes but believe me, I'm not that easily truly pissed off. So, that backfired," he says, driving onto the road. "What did you expect to happen? That we'd break up, and you'd be there comforting him, and he'd end up falling for you?" he asks, raising his eyebrows at you, almost amused. 

"Come on, I wouldn't think of something like that," you snort. 

He shrugs his shoulders and focuses back on the road. "I don't know what the fuck you thought. Do you know what two days ago meant for me and Chan?" 

"No," you shook your head. 

"Two days ago, the night we, unfortunately, kept you up, it's been one and a half years ago that he asked me to be his boyfriend," Minho tells you, and your face falls as you start calculating in your head. "When I got to know you about a year ago, I asked him not to tell you yet because I wanted to get to know you on a neutral basis. In your eyes, I was his roommate, and I think we clicked rather quickly."

You stare at him, tears brimming your eyes. Chan told you seven months into the relationship that Minho was his boyfriend. Seven months. "You're lying. He wouldn't keep that a secret for so long." 

Minho glances at you, and compassion laces his features. "He was scared you'd judge him for it at first. Then, after five months, we decided to move in together, and we weren't sure if it would work out once it was only the two of us. Around that time, you visited, and after I told him, he should tell you the next time you visit."

"Five months is a little rushed, don't you think?" you ask, wondering why that was the one thing that came to your mind. 

"Let me put it this way, your best friend is incredibly horny, and it got exhausting hiding from our friends all the time," Minho tells you and rolls his eyes to himself. "But yes, it was a little rushed." 

You nod slowly before staring at the road ahead stubbornly. "Does he know you're telling me this now? The relationship stuff?" 

"No," Minho shakes his head. "We trust each other, he'll be fine with it." 

"That's not your decision to make," you frown. 

"It's my relationship as much as it is his. You're acting weird towards me, not him, so I can tell you whatever I want, my dear," he says patiently. "You're in love with him?" he asks as he stops at a red light and looks at you. 

You swallow hard and close your eyes in defeat. "I've been in love with him for years," you whisper. 

"And you never told him?" he asks gently. 

"No," you shake your head. "I was too afraid he'd push me away, and I'd ruin our friendship." 

"God, you're just like him," Minho groans softly. "When I met him, he couldn't stop talking about that girl he knew back in Australia and how much she meant to him. It was obvious he had a crush on her." 

"What?" you ask quietly. 

"We got closer, and I fell for him more with every passing day. I tried to tell myself to stop it because I didn't think I'd stand a chance against you," Minho tells you, parking the car in front of the house. He turns the keys and leans back in his seat. "It felt awful having him right there but knowing he wasn't mine and he'd never be. I was starting to give up, but then, one night, he showed up and told me that he developed feelings for a guy to test my reaction. Y/N, when he kissed me, I felt whole again for the first time in ages," he says, and you can tell he's getting emotional. "I love him so much, and I can't imagine a life without him by my side anymore. He's everything I have, and I -," he cuts himself off as he feels tears brimming his eyes. "I know how you feel, okay? I don't want to feel threatened by you. I really don't because then I'll start getting nasty too," he says very quietly. “I’ll fuck you up if you try and destroy what we have, I mean it.”

You swallow hard, trying to process what he has just revealed. Chan had a crush on you when he came to Korea? "Minho, I had no idea," you say gently, placing your hand on his thigh. 

"I try not to think of it that way, but I wasn't his first choice, you know. It was you, and when I met you, I knew why," he tells you, blinking back tears. "Stop feeling jealous about that. I should be the one scared to lose Chan in case he decides you're better for him after all. I wouldn't even blame him because you're right. I have trouble opening up because I've been hurt before, but I'm learning because I trust him."

"Hey," you say gently. "Don't you ever believe you're something less than Chan's first choice. He loved you enough to be brave and offer his heart. You should've seen how protective he got yesterday." 

Minho presses his lips together tightly before looking at you again. Your breath stops as tears threaten to spill from his eyes, his hands trembling. "You didn't see the hope in his eyes when I told him you're in love with him." 

You hesitantly take his hand, and he lets you. "Minnie, I mean it. I've been an asshole and have no right to destroy what you two have. You're perfect for him, and maybe that's what pissed me off so much; I can't find any flaws," you tell him. 

"There are a lot," he shakes his head. 

"I highly doubt that," you say, and he laughs weakly. "I mean, look at you. You're funny, you're smart, you're so caring and kind. You're an incredible dancer and singer. You have very pretty eyes and-."

"You think I have pretty eyes?" he asks, blushing softly. 

"And very kissable-looking lips," you nod. "No wonder he keeps on harassing you with kisses no matter what you do," you say, pulling a genuine laugh from him. 

Minho hastily wipes away a single tear falling down his cheek and exhales shakily. "I'm sorry he wasn't brave enough to tell you." 

"Don't be," you shake your head. 

"You deserve to be loved just as much as he does," he tells you, squeezing your hand tightly. "I'm…I'm okay with sharing, Chan," he says, searching your eyes observantly. "But not with losing him." 

You need a moment to get what he means. "You mean you'd be okay if I had a relationship with Chan at the same time as you do?" 

Minho nods very slowly. "I have no idea if that's what he wants…but I'll tell him that I won't be in the way if that's something he wants." 

"What if that’s not all I want?" you ask, and insecurity flickers in his eyes, which makes you wonder if that's what Chan had meant yesterday. Did Minho care about you that way? 

"You mean…," he trails off, sinking into your curious eyes. Did you mean it the way he thinks you did?

"I do think you have very pretty eyes..and kissable lips. I've been thinking about that since the day we met," you admit, and his lips part in surprise. Minho leans in at the same time as you do, and you search each other's eyes for another moment before your lips meet. Fuck, Chan was right, he's an incredible kisser. Minho's hand shoots up, resting on your cheek and pulling you in closer. 

Suddenly, he pulls back and stares at you with wide eyes. "Fuck, I shouldn't have - oh god, I'm sorry," he stammers. "I should've talked to him first." 

"Minho, calm down," you tell him, but he's already pulling the keys and getting out. "Fuck," you whisper to yourself. 

-

When Chan comes home, Minho's sitting at the kitchen island, bracing his head on his hand. He looks deep in thought, anxious even. "Baby?" he asks worriedly, and Minho's eyes flicker up at him. "What's wrong?" 

"I fucked up," he whispers.

"What?" he asks confused, and puts down his bag before sitting down opposite him. 

"I love you, you know that, right?" Minho asks timidly. 

"Of course I do," he assures him and offers his hand. Minho takes it, and Chan frowns, noticing he is shaking. 

"I - uhm- remember when I told you that I'm open about having more than one partner?" he asks, and Chan nods gently. "And I also promised to tell you if that's ever the case before anything happens, right?"

Chan nods and straightens up a little. "Did something happen?" he asks gently. 

"I picked her up, and we talked about yesterday. I told her that I always thought I'd never have a chance because of your crush on her and how things developed then," Minho starts, and Chan watches him intently. "She seemed to get it and got really sweet. I told her that if you'd have no issue, I'm willing to share you and-," he looks up, almost a little panicked, as you walk down the stairs. 

Chan slowly turns his head, and meeting your eyes, he knows. He looks back at Minho, who looks incredibly guilty and swallows hard. "I kissed him," you say, bracing yourself for an outburst of Chan. 

"You kissed my boyfriend?" Chan asks, very slowly looking back at you. 

"Yes," you say quietly. "I know what you see in him, Chan, I'd be blind if I didn't."

"I told you to talk to him," he says before laughing. "I didn't think you'd take this a whole step further," he grins. 

"You're not mad?" Minho asks and tilts his head at him. 

"We've talked about this, baby. I could tell you like her more than a friend, and she's so desperate for love she doesn't pick up on a damn signal," he rolls his eyes at you. "I knew one day I'd come home, and you'd tell me you met someone. It's even better knowing it's my best friend." 

Minho's face softens, and he visibly relaxes. "And you're okay with that?" 

Chan smiles at him fondly. "I am very okay with that." 

“Great…because there’s more,” Minho nods gently, and Chan frowns at him.

“More?” he asks puzzled.

PART TWO

MASTERLISTS | PROMPT LIST | GUIDELINES

Taglist: (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!)

@soullostinspaceandtime @brownieloved @rebecca-johnson-28 @euphoric-univers @hyunniebunni @mal-lunar-28 @malfoygalaxies

[the-kr8tor]

Hello! Could I please request TTN Hobie and reader go back to Aunt Janet’s shop, when they are together again after reader comes back from LA, to buy some fabric for something that they are sewing? I would love to see her reaction of seeing them both together!

Have a lovely day/night!

🕊️anon

Yippee a TTN request!! Ly thank you! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: use of Y/N sparsely, no specific physical description of the reader, talks of babies, TTN! Hobie and Reader. FLUFF

Thread the Needle series Masterlist

TTN oneshot Masterlist

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

The bell jingles as Hobie opens the door for you, strolling inside, practically skipping from all the happiness of being with him again, you wait for him to enter. He loops his arm around your waist almost immediately. The unabashed PDA would make anyone look away, but who cares? You're complete once again.

“What do you need again?” He asks, eyes roaming around, chin resting comfortably on your shoulder.

“If you stopped and actually listened to my chattering then you won't have to ask.” You say teasingly, a smirk playing on your lips.

“If you stopped snogging me while talking then I won't be so distracted, hmm?” Hobie rubs his chin on your shoulder in an effort to tickle you.

“It's not my fault you keep coming on to me.” Giggling, he scrunches up your face with his whole palm over your entire face, wiggling it playfully.

“If you two don't stop being all sweet there'll be ants all over my shop.” A familiar voice pipes up from behind the counter, making you pause and take off Hobie's hand from your face. “‘ello you two. Welcome back, sweetheart.”

“Auntie Janet!” You squeal, feet bouncing to get to her. Hugging her over the counter, you hold her at arm's length, grinning from ear to ear.

You've noticed the new glasses on her, she has aged a bit since you last saw each other but there's still that twinkle in her eyes whenever she smiles.

“Let me get a good look at you!” You awkwardly twirl around at her behest. She smiles widely.

“So?” You ask timidly.

“Good,” Janet nods approvingly. “You've taken care of yourself well? Ate? Went on walks?”

“I did, don't worry.”

“He taking good care of you then?” She gestures towards Hobie who peruses the shelves.

“He is. Too good in fact, he barely lets me out of his sight.” You joke. “I'm guessing he missed me a lot.”

Janet leans closer to you, whispering. “Don't tell him I told you this but he's a regular customer here.”

“He is?” You ask, feigning ignorance. You know of his vigilante activities, and unfortunately those activities usually end up with his suit cut to pieces or mangled up. It's the main reason why you're visiting, and to also visit Janet of course.

Your heart pounds loudly at the thought of Janet figuring out his secret identity.

“That he is, I think he's making his own clothes. That's how much he misses you. You know, do the activities you like so he feels like you're there with him”

You breathe a sigh of relief, not knowing what you would've said to her if she guessed correctly on why he needs so much fabric. With a giddy smile, you like her conclusion better.

“I'll– put that information to good use.” You stutter,

She nods, “use it wisely.” Winking, she straightens out when Hobie plops a roll of scaly green fabric on the counter.

“Oh is this for Terry?” You ask, hand automatically reaching for his jean back pocket.

Janet looks at you confused.

“Yeah, for patching him up.”

“Wait, do you have a kid? How long have you been home, Y/N?” She looks at you like you've betrayed her.

Before you could explain, Hobie takes the opportunity to tease the old woman.

He pats your stomach, “yeah, she had him a month ago and he's growing very fast, we need new clothes for him.”

You stifle a laugh, you'd tell her eventually but you want to see how Hobie's bit goes.

“A baby boy?!” She points at Hobie menacingly. “She gave birth a month ago and you're already letting her walk around?” Janet comes around the counter, cane at the ready. “Not to mention the fact you already knocked her up the minute she came back home!” She points at Hobie with her cane. “What kind of–”

Hobie shields himself with his arms, laughing loudly while Janet chastises him. Their voices echo out in the shop.

You watch Hobie defend himself from an old woman, smiling, your laughs match Hobie's. Maybe you'll tell Janet the truth once she calms down or else you might get the cane too.

[m3talmunson]

Eddie didn't really mind pointing things out to Steve, things that the other boy easily missed. He did mind the fact that Steve wouldn't admit he didn't see them though.

Eddie would point out an upcoming speedbump when Steve seemingly wasn't slowing down, and Steve would swear up and down that he was getting there, that he knew. Eddie would point out a tape that had fallen to the ground at family video, and Steve would parrot back the same "I know, I know!" like he wasn't just about to step on it. Eddie would point to a cabinet of the kitchenette in his trailer, asking Steve to grab something from it, and just watch as Steve reached for the wrong cabinet before saying "your other left" like nothing happened. But he wouldn't get complacent.

He couldn't bare the thought of 'what if Steve misses something on the road' or 'what if he trips and gets one too many blows to the head' and god forbid 'how could he ever navigate the upside down if it reopens'.

Eddie was going to make sure Steve got glasses, hell, even those new extended-wear contacts that he knew Steve could afford. Eddie was going to make Steve see, if not for Steve, then for his own sake.

Steve wasn't necessarily thrilled with the concept. He was at work when

"What if I look dinky with glasses? I feel like they'd throw off my charm." Steve said, doing his best to keep a joking tone.

"What if your eyesight keeps getting worse and you can't see what you look at all, dinky or not?" Eddie retorted back, playing the trump card, "Look, I'll even go with you to pick them out if you want. Get a pair of 20/20 eyes to help out."

"Would you really go with me? Robin's been pestering me for ages but I've never actually committed to even getting my eyes looked at."

"'Course I would Stevie, there's no way I'm letting you see anyone else face before mine. Gotta be the first." He joked, giving a bow, "How's next Thursday sound? You have no work, I have no plans."

"Aw you know my work schedule, how sweet." Steve replied sarcastically, "Yeah, next Thursday works."

And then, the next customer came in, and Eddie wandered off to pretend he actually came in for a tape.

When Steve came out of the optometrist's room, he seemed pretty dejected.

"Severe hyperopic astigmatism in both eyes, just like my dad."

"It runs in the family? And you still never got glasses?"

"Oh it gets better." Steve chose to ignore the question, "They've never seen it this bad in someone so young unless they had severe head trauma."

"Steve, you have had severe head trauma-"

"What they don't know won't kill them, hopefully. You wanna explain the Upside Down?"

"Got me there, Stevie."

"Anyways, they say the prescription is fairly common, so depending on the pair I pick I could walk out with them today, if they have the lenses." Steve walked to the front of the shop, looking at the wall of glasses, hunting down any wire-rimmed pairs, the ones the doctor said would most likely have lenses in his script.

"So what are we looking for?" Eddie asked.

"Anything other than circles. That's what my dad wore. Or, wears. I don't really know. Oh, and also wire framed, the doctor said those were more likely to have these lenses." Steve waved the paper the doctor had given him with his prescription as he squinted at the display.

"Let's get to work then!"

Luckily for Steve, he could make out the thumbs up or thumbs down Eddie would give him when he tried on a pair. He sat down with one of the hand-held mirrors and his pick of five frames. He held the mirror as far as possible so he could see them, even getting Eddie to hold it when he was narrowing down the final two, squinting at himself, picking apart his reflection in the mirror. Just when Eddie was about to tell Steve which pair was his favorite, he got cut off.

"Can I help you two?" The attendant in the room finally asked, making Steve jump a little.

"Uhm, no, thank you! Just trying to narrow down which pair to buy."

"Let me see your script and the glasses, I'll look at the tag and see if we have those lenses in." She said, pulling out a little clipboard with a list of the common scripts, those with none left crossed-out.

She stared at it for a moment, adjusting her own glasses in the process.

"Looks like we have the lenses for only one of these, my dear. Of course, you can still get the others! You'll just have about a week's wait until we have those lenses."

"Which pair has the lenses in stock?" Steve asked.

The lady passed him the navy blue square framed pair with the nice and neat rounded corners. Eddie's favorite out of the two.

"Hmm. If I get this pair, I can walk out today with them right?"

"Yes! If you get this pair I can have them done in about 20 minutes, just need to pop the right lenses in and tighten some screws."

"I'll take this pair then, thank you!" Steve said, following the rest of her instructions to go ahead and pay for them while she rifles through the drawers for the farsighted lenses, finding his exact prescription.

"Lucky boy, got the last pair of these lenses in stock!"

"Lucky Stevie!" Eddie nudged Steve.

"Yeah, lucky me." He smiled.

Still though, Steve let his mind wander wild as he waited for the little old lady to finish his glasses.

"What if they really do look silly?"

"Steve you're not gonna look silly. I promise you looked amazing in the display pair." Eddie did his best to sound reassuring.

"Amazing? Like. How much on a scale of 1-10?" Steve regained his flirty nature.

"Like, an eleven, Stevie." Eddie looked away, not willing to let Steve see the blush rise to his cheeks.

"11/10? He does have a nice bone in his body." Steve teased, before the lady called Steve up to the counter with a mirror and his case, his glasses in her hand. Eddie followed in tow.

"It might take a minute, to adjust. Try to look around, read the liscense plates in the parking lot, or something like that." She held her open hand out to Steve and he picked up the glasses, closing his eyes before sliding them on.

And then he opened his eyes. He saw the detail on the counter, not a blank flat color but a salt-and-pepper spattering of greys and blacks. He read the lady's name tag, Caroline's name tag, before realizing that he didn't know her name until then. He looked at his hands, seeing detail that he had never seen before, saw the littler moles that peppered his arms.

He saw Eddie, saw that little smirk he wore in all of it's detail, saw the long eyelashes that framed his eyes, saw the crinkle in his nose.

"Oh my god-" Steve said, his hands dropping to his side, "The world is so much more beautiful than I remembered." He stared for a second longer at Eddie's eyes, the dark brown glowing a little in the setting sun through the windows.

"Thank you, so much for all your help," Steve told the lady -Caroline, he knew her name now- as he grabbed his case, not stopping to look at himself but striding out the door, to look at the detail of the sidewalk, see the little scratch on his beamer that he had never been more excited to see. He turned around to look at Eddie again, see the pride in his eyes.

"Let's get you home, shall we? Since you can, y'know, see this time."

"Let's."

He drove Eddie home, pointed out every new thing he could see, and stepped out of his car to walk Eddie to his door.

Eddie stopped before the stairs to his trailer.

"So, Stevie, did you have a good day?"

"I feel like the world is so much brighter now." Steve said, his eyes flicking to every movement in Eddie's face at that response. His eyes settled on the strand of hair that fell as Eddie shook his head.

"Feel like it's so much softer too." Steve pushed the hair back behind Eddie's ear as he talked, letting his hand linger just a second.

"Weirdly, enough, me too." Eddie pressed his hand against Steve's.

The sun was setting, nobody was out in the trailer park, and in the June heat of Indiana, no windows were cracked either. Behind the privacy of Eddie's van, parked to the left of where Steve's car was sitting, Steve couldn't help himself.

"Eddie, today was wonderful, even when I was slightly panicking. Thank you for being there, you have no idea what it means."

"I think I might." Eddie noticed Steve staring at his lips, and, hopefully not misinterpreting a sign, finally asked, "Steve, can I kis-"

"Please." Steve cut him off, before giving Eddie the kiss he so desperately had wanted since the moment he saw his face that afternoon. Steve was so glad Eddie's was the first face he saw.

~~~~~

baby's first tag list!

@henderdads

thank you for having faith in my work! still learning about tumblr and I thought I could tag people in the comments of my last post, but this is a side blog, so I can't :( anyways now I'm officially building a tag list 💪🏻

[ckret2]

This chapter is a whole lot of Bill and Ford talking and I couldn't think of a good illustration for it, so have a funny comic instead.

Here's chapter 9 of The Pines Have Captured Human Bill Cipher And Nobody Is Happy About It (Title TBD), recent chapters are in my #my writing tag and on god I'll have a master post before chapter 10.

####

Ford knocked on the bathroom door. "Time's up. You've had your two hours, Cipher."

There was no reply.

Ford glanced at Stan.

Stan grumbled under his breath and cracked his knuckles. "BILL!" He pounded on the door. "Either you come out of the bathroom, or we're dragging you out by your ankles!"

No reply.

"That's it," Stan snapped. Ford nodded in agreement and took a step back to cover Stan as he opened the door.

The bathroom reeked of chemically-enhanced rotten eggs. From knee-height down, every single surface in the room was plastered with curly blond hair. Behind the bath tub—naked, curled up in a ball, and hiding beneath a towel like a child—was Bill.

Stan and Ford gaped at the scene. And then they cracked up.

"Most—" Stan wheezed, "Most people just use shampoo! But hey, whatever floats your boat!"

Trying to sound stern and failing, Ford said, "You'd better help clean this up."

Bill didn't reply. 

Stan coughed and pounded on his chest. "Gah. Almost choked on my dentures."

"How did you do this? I know we removed the blades from the room." Ford was glad he'd put on his boots. He picked up a bottle of hair removal cream from the bath tub and tested the weight. Almost empty. "You didn't use this on your scalp, did you? It's far too caustic for facial skin."

Stan asked, "How do you know?"

"I've experimented with many shaving techniques, Stanley."

Bill didn't reply.

"Bill?" Ford's smile faded. "Did you burn yourself?" If he was burned badly enough, that was an infection risk—the last thing they needed was to haul their prisoner to a doctor...

Ford took another step toward Bill. Bill tightened his arms around his knees and retreated further into the corner. And still he said nothing.

####

Stan and Ford agreed that dragging Bill's naked butt out of the bathroom wouldn't do anything to help protect Gravity Falls from the horrible alien triangle menace, and also wouldn't make them feel particularly noble; so they left the door open, told Bill to get dressed and get out, Stan went back to bed, and Ford sat in the attic window seat to wait.

It took almost twenty minutes before Ford heard Bill shuffling around, and another ten before he finally emerged. Bill had dressed, thank goodness, but still had the towel draped over his head, like a Victorian widow in a mourning veil. Ford wondered if it was bad to find the sight of Bill's obvious distress so, so funny, or if the fact that it was Bill made it okay.

Bill got close enough to his window seat nest to spy Ford's boots from beneath his towel, veered off to the side, and curled up in a corner of the attic.

"Well," Ford said, to say something; and then drew a blank. Finally, he said, "The next time you claim you don't know how to bathe correctly, I'll believe you."

Ford could have sworn he heard the towel-covered lump hiss like a leaky tire. Had he gotten a laugh?

The ice broken, Ford went on: "Are you injured? That stuff can burn even when used correctly. And—you did not use it correctly."

No response.

"Just—why did you—why?"

No response.

"Say something so I know I don't have to call an ambulance and tell them you're in shock." Ford did not relish the idea of explaining a mysterious woman with no ID to a hospital.

Apparently, neither did Bill, because he muttered, "I don't need medical assistance." And then, "So I didn't want hair. Baldness isn't a sin. Get off my back."

"That's a heck of a way to get rid of it."

"Yeah, wow, I guess so. I wonder why I didn't just use a razor."

"You could have... You could have asked for a shave."

Bill let out another tire-wheeze laugh. At the thought of asking for help, or at the thought that he'd have received it?

"Bill—"

"Go away."

Ford frowned; but he got up, shut the bathroom door so Bill couldn't go back in, and went downstairs.

And a few minutes later, came back with a sandwich made out of the first odds and ends he could find in the fridge, and a six pack of hard apple cider. "Here." He set the plate and six pack on the floor near Bill. "Mrs. Ramirez hasn't touched it, I promise."

Bill didn't move, not even to see what food Ford had brought.

Ford shifted his footing nervously, his common sense insisting that he'd demonstrated all the common decency he was obliged to and that it was time to go; and then he sat down again on the window seat. "Listen," he said. "Bill." (He shouldn't be doing this, he shouldn't be talking to Bill Demon-Triangle Dimension-Destroyer Cipher, eternal nemesis, ruiner of Ford's life, threatener of his family; but right now, it was hard to see Bill Cipher beneath the hurting human.) "I've—been here before. I know what it's like to—to be trapped in an alien dimension, surrounded by hostile locals, with no way home." He tried not to think about the fact that Bill was the main reason Ford had been trapped, or that Ford was now one of the hostile locals, or that the locals (and Ford especially) had a damn good reason to be hostile to Bill, or that they all didn't want Bill to get home. He was kind of curious find out where the heck he was going with this conversation. "I know what that... grief is like."

Ford thought it might be an insult to suggest Bill was capable of grief; but Bill didn't twitch. Ford went on. "I know how tempting it is to—to ignore everything but the fight ahead. Never mind hot food, shelter, showers, fresh clothes, a comfortable bed. Luxuries you can tend to when your work is done. But—a fire can't keep burning without fuel and fresh air. Depriving yourself those 'luxuries' doesn't turn you into some ascetic warrior-monk. It simply... burns you out. It makes it that much harder to achieve anything." Ford shrugged. "I—learned that the hard way."

He tried not to think about the fact that Bill had been the fight Ford had burned himself out for. Or the fact that Bill no doubt saw Ford as his fight. Or the fact that Ford didn't want Bill to achieve anything. He immediately regretted the decision to find out where he was going with this conversation. What was he doing?

Voice muffled, Bill said, "You think you're the only person who's ever had to get used to an alien dimension before?"

And Ford remembered—a moment too late—that Bill had destroyed his home. It was so easy to take that information, the horrific enormity of it, and stop there; but follow the implications one step further, and that meant Ford had never once seen Bill in his own dimension. As long as Ford had known him and billions of times longer, Bill had been a stranger in a strange land. Ford should write off this conversation as a loss and leave.

"This isn't my first rodeo," Bill said. "But hey, thanks for coming back up just to patronize me. It's really what I needed tonight."

To hell with leaving. Ford wasn't letting Bill get the last word in after Ford had tried to do something nice. "This is your first time being a human in an alien dimension," Ford pointed out. "You said it yourself earlier—I bathe hundreds of times a year and you don't. As an energy being, you've never had to make time for daily showers, or sleep, or exercise, or..." He almost said food but paused. He'd seen Bill eat as a triangle. Was that fun or necessity? Never mind. "You probably think those chores are beneath you—but your body needs them whether you like it or not."

Bill laughed harshly. "Wow, this is rich coming from you. 'Eat better and bathe more,' says the guy who locked me out of the fridge and bathroom."

"I—" Well. Ford couldn't really argue with that. And he didn't regret it. "I know it's... not an ideal situation." The opportunity hung in the air for an and I'm sorry, and Ford self-consciously hurried past it. It was the thing one said in these situations, but it wasn't true. He wasn't sorry, he shouldn't be sorry, Bill was here on death row. "But I'm just trying to..." The sentence died. Why, exactly, was he trying to help Bill?

"Why would I want any help from you?" Bill's voice was venomous; and under the circumstances, Ford couldn't fault him for that. "Even if you didn't kill me and capture me! For all your talk of needing shelter and comfort when you're stuck in another dimension—you never accepted any help from me. But you think I can't take care of myself?"

Ford stared at Bill. (Not that there was much to stare at, except the top of a towel.) "I never accep—? You never offeredany help!" Not that he would have accepted it if Bill had, but just the outrageous suggestion that Bill had been—what?—charitably offering interdimensional refugee services that Ford had stubbornly turned down—?

"I never got the chance! You dove into the first wormhole you could find—you didn't even bother to say 'hi'!"

"Why would I say 'hi' after everything you—! Plus, you placed a bounty on my head! Within thirty seconds of my arrival!"

"So I got excited!" Bill uncurled just enough to shrug. "Anyway, the bounty was to bring you to me alive! C'mon, Stanford, I know you steered away from the frats in college, but you know what a little friendly hazing is, right?"

Flabbergasted, Ford echoed, "'Hazing'?" And then, even more disbelieving, "'Friendly'?"

"Wh... Sure!" One eye, almost luminescent in the shadows beneath the towel, peered over Bill's knees. As if Bill was as baffled as Ford and needed to see him for himself. "You built us a portal, you got cast out of your dimension into ours—you were gonna get a hero's welcome! You'd joined the gang! You were one of us!"

"I'd—spent weeks trying to stop you!"

"So?"

Ford gaped. Bill was a liar, he reminded himself—a liar, a manipulator, and a conman. He'd say anything to portray himself however he thought most useful. Ford remembered arriving in the Nightmare Realm. He'd relived it over and over—in hundreds, if not thousands of nightmares. "That was no welcome party. You were surrounded by an army of monsters."

"Hey, those are my pals you're talking about!" Bill laughed—a sincere, easy sound. It was unnerving, how real that laugh sounded. "Hate to point out the obvious, Sixer, but you've got a handshake that '30s Hollywood woulda designed a whole movie monster around. Who are you to judge appearances!"

Ford's thoughts flashed briefly to the Glass Shard Beach freak show he'd met as a child—the humans who'd called themselves "monsters" and who'd called Ford their "abnormal ally," the frightening friendly freaks who'd welcomed him warmly. He pushed the thought away. Bill wasn't running some kind of weirdo sanctuary; he probably just thought making Ford think he was would win him some sympathy. "You were sitting on a throne. Made out of optical illusions. Like a self-appointed tyrant."

"Oh, you noticed my throne!" Bill's head lifted a little more. "I got that custom made! It's upholstered with the torn fabric of reality! Say, did it look three-dimensional to you? I'm told it looks 3D if you cross your eyes just right, but, well, you need two eyes to cross 'em."

"Wh—" Ford blinked, trying to remember what the throne had looked like. "Was it... not 3D?"

"No way! Do you have any idea what it'd cost to upholster a whole extra dimension in the fabric of reality? I'm not about to drop that kind of gold on a feature I wouldn't even use!" Bill grinned up at Ford. All Ford could see was the one eye and his teeth. "But hey, if you couldn't even tell the difference—I guess the autostereogram detailing was worth it!"

And Ford thought, he means it. Bill, mad thing he was, never thought that being Ford's friend and destroying Ford's universe were mutually incompatible. When Ford had arrived in the Nightmare Realm, Bill hadn't been hunting him, he'd been welcoming him. Lounging on his stupid tacky throne, hanging out with his terrible friends, feigning a punch at the new guy to make him flinch before laughing and inviting him to the party. And Ford—sleep-deprived, terrified, paranoid—hadn't seen it.

And then Ford thought, he's lying. It was thirty years ago—almost thirty-one years (time ticks ever on)—and Bill could say anything he wanted about what he would have done if he'd caught Ford, because he hadn't caught him. Today, Bill probably thought his comfort, if not his very survival, was dependent upon convincing his captors that he was so much less a threat than they thought he was. It's all a harmless misunderstanding! It was no misunderstanding and Bill wasn't harmless.

Ford got to his feet. "We remember that day very differently."

Bill's smile faded into the dark. "Yeah. Guess so." And then his eye disappeared as well, as Bill curled in on himself and vanished under the towel. That wasn't like him. Ford had expected at least a little gaslighting.

Strange body in a strange land. And a recent death (metaphorical or literal, Ford still wasn't sure). Of course Bill was more subdued than usual.

Ford told himself not to worry about Bill. (He was unnerved that he had to tell himself.)

"Well." Ford gestured vaguely at the sandwich, decided against doing something nice like reminding Bill he needed to eat, and said, "Don't waste food."

Ford mentally chided himself as he walked downstairs. He'd been careless; he'd almost let his guard down in front of a friend who'd betrayed him. He'd been nice to Bill. He'd tried to encourage Bill to take better care of himself—when Ford was plotting to kill him, for crying out loud! Why? Because the human body made him forget this was Bill? No. Because Bill had tricked Ford into seeing him as a friend again, for just a moment, talking about parties and pals and—of all things—his stupid upholstery? No; that had come after Ford had offered compassion. It would have been nice if Ford could have blamed Bill. He'd like to think that he was being manipulated; it would free him from any personal culpability. But Bill hadn't done anything—except look miserable.

And that didn't line up with how Ford remembered Bill. Maybe that was what had thrown him off? But—he wasn't sure. Ford had spent thirty years with his thoughts spiraling around Bill, and now it was hard to think about Bill at all without second-guessing every thought that passed through his head. He'd have to talk this out with Stan.

Another question gnawed at him as he kicked off his boots and climbed back into bed. When he'd been cast from his dimension, the portal was still functional, just uncharged. There was nothing Ford could do from within the Nightmare Realm to either reactivate or destroy the portal. Bill had seemed in too good a humor to have punishment on his mind; and since Ford had been both useless and unthreatening, Bill probably hadn't wanted to recruit him for his help or eliminate him for Bill's safety.

So what had Bill wanted him for?

What had Bill wanted him for?

Probably just to kill him. For no particular reason. For fun. Bill didn't need any other reason, Bill was insane.

Ford tried to convince himself that was true.

####

Bill had gotten careless. He almost let his guard down around a friend who'd betrayed him.

He couldn't really blame himself. He was a consummate extrovert with nobody to talk to. Captivity in and of itself was bad enough; but without his friends, he was... bored. That was the word. Bored.

Bill's stomach ached. He peered at the food Ford had brought.

After a moment, he dragged over the six pack and popped out a can of cider.

That bathroom could be useful. He'd never be trusted in there for two hours unsupervised again, but if he mastered the art of the ten-minute shower and claimed he still needed an hour, that would give him some uninterrupted privacy. He could work a little magic in that time, even if he was limited to human capabilities. Most local female humans wore makeup, Melody probably kept hers in the bathroom; and in a pinch, there was toothpaste and shampoo; he could write with those. You could get a lot done with two mirrors, running water, a writing tool, and a human body full of blood.

Maybe he could call for help. Acquiring the supplies to get a call through to Hectorgon or Amorphous Shape would be difficult, much less calling any of his outerplanar pals; but Kryptos kept a psychic line open in dimension 46'\, if Bill got his hands on some candles he could reach him. At least, assuming Kryptos bothered to pick up the call. Bill hated the thought that his fate rested on whether or not the most annoying person in the multiverse felt like taking a call from an unknown number, but what could he do about it? If he could just reach the mindscape, this would be so much easier—

No, that wasn't quite accurate. He could reach the mindscape. He dreamed. He just... couldn't control it.

This body clamped onto his soul like an iron maiden. He couldn't just shed it like an old coat, the way he'd always effortlessly moved in and out of physical bodies before. He'd tried, curled up in the window for hours at a time, meditating silently, reaching for that point where he quietly detached from his borrowed form—but never grasping it. A couple of times the effort had exhausted him into falling asleep. He didn't know whether the Axolotl had done something to lock him inside this body, or if the difficulty in leaving it was a natural part of living in a human body rather than merely visiting one.

He'd probably have to figure out humans' techniques for controlling their dreams and shedding their bodies. He was sure Ford had done some reading on astral projection at Bill's suggestion, maybe he still had those books somewhere. Bill couldn't just ask for them. Ford wouldn't trust Bill with those books.

Not yet, anyway. But with time...?

Ford's little visit this evening had been... unexpectedly encouraging. Maybe the whole woe-is-me routine was working after all. Even if Ford had probably only pitied him because...

Under the towel, Bill's scalp burned. He could feel the alien contours of his head.

Never mind, never mind, never mind. This was all part of his strategy. This was his plan.

The point was—he thought, for just a moment, he'd gotten a glimpse again of the Ford that was his friend.

Bill could use that.

He'd keep working on Ford, softening him up. He'd already brought food. Rookie mistake. So few humans realized that once they'd done one favor for someone, they'd set themselves up to make every favor after that a little bit easier. He'd have Stanford Pines wrapped around his finger again in no time.

And until he'd worked his way back up to big favors, it might be nice to have someone to play chess with again. He was bored. He missed his friends.

He missed home.

He missed himself.

A lump formed in his throat. 

To drown it, he popped open the first can of cider, chugged it in several large gulps, and reached for the second.

####

[angelsanarchy]

Alkaline: Euronymous x Y/N Series CH 20

Tagging: @ophelialaufey@madamemaximoff06@forever-not-gonna-sink@ajmiila02@liquidsmoothdomme@shady-the-simp @auggiethecreator @tempt-ress @blacksoul-27

This week was going shit. Varg was up Oystein's ass every other second about some stupid "mission of solidifying black metal", the shop had gotten a formal complaint from the police about property destruction which got him a fat fine. Some drunk idiot fell into a display and broke a ton of records that he would now have to eat the cost over. He was hiding out in his office just to get some peace from everyone. He had Faust pick up his food today because he didn't want to take his bad mood out on Y/n when she delivered his food.

Oystein started to eat his lunch in silence, enjoying being completely alone until the office door opened. Y/n walked in surprising him.

"I thought I told Faust to lock the door on the way out." He realized he had his glasses on and batted them off his face.

"No worries I just came to drop this. You can go back to jerking off on your little typewriter once I leave." She watched Oystein realize he still had his glasses on and he batted them off his face. She shook her head.

"Oh no he doesn't have perfect vision., trust me the glasses are the least stupid thing about your face with that hideous mustache living on your lip." She dropped the bag on his desk.

"Your lunch wench forgot your side orders and I wasn't getting blamed for not delivering them to you directly." Oystein smirked.

"I wouldn't have held it against you but I appreciate you bringing it." Oystein looked up at Y/n and noticed she was in some sort of trance.

"Y/n...you good?" He waved his hand and followed her gaze to the picture on his bulletin board. He stood up abruptly and stood in front of the desk to block her view but she was held her hands up for him not to come close to her.

"You weren't suppose to see that." Oystein said seeing her shaking. He stepped closer to her.

"Please don't. I just...just give me a second." She kept her face down so he couldn't see that she was crying.

"What can I do? Tell me what you need and I'll get it." Oystein offered.

"Trust me I would have run out of her with a giant fuck you if I could have kept my emotions on lock but I refuse to let your cult following see me cry or give you some sort of material to tell them you fucked me until I cried or something stupid." Oystein was surprised by what she said. He would never hurt her, let alone assault her.

"Y/n you have to know I wouldn't ever do that-" He moved towards her again.

"There as a time I thought I could believe that but I also didn't believe you actually took photos of Pelle...like that...and put them on display like he was some sideshow freak." She put her hands over her face now completely in shambles. He wanted to hug her. He wanted to do something, anything to make this better for her.

"I'm sorry you saw it." He whispered and her head shot up.

"You should be sorry you took it Oystein. God what is wrong with you? How did I miss this? How did I not see this side of you and just let myself fall in..." She cut herself off and for the first time since their relationship fell apart did he feel like something had struck him directly in the heart.

"I do...I do feel sorry that I took it. I've felt like shit since the moment I found him like that. I can't...look I'm sorry I can't go there with you okay? You just wouldn't understand what that's like. I'm a fucking mess and this is how I'm coping with it." Oystein felt the lump in his throat and shook his head. Explaining to anyone what he's been feeling since Pelle killed himself felt impossible. It felt lonely. It felt like if he let this feeling bubble to the surface, he might drown in it.

Y/n finally lifted her head and he used a napkin from his desk to wipe her tears. For a brief moment, she let him before taking the napkin and pulling herself together.

"Next time, I will leave your food with Faust." She whispered. He nodded his head understanding that she wouldn't ever come back into his office and he didn't blame her. He sat back down in his chair and looked over at the photo of Pelle. Being mad at him for doing what he did was the only way he didn't let his absence hurt.

The door cracked open again and Faust walked in.

"Hey are you still-"

"Lock the fucking door Faust!" Oystein yelled at him and he flipped the lock on the door before shutting it quickly. He just needed a break. He felt like he needed a vacation from his own fucking life.

[amhrosina]

Frank Reacting to Your Parents Being Mean to You (Frank Castle x gn!Reader) Headcanons

MASTERLIST // TAG LIST REQUEST FORM

A/N: This is the first part of a headcanon request I received from a nonnie! I wrote one for Matt too, so I'll link that one as soon as I post it. Any other ones I write under this headcanon will be linked eventually! Thank you for requesting nonnie!

My request are open, but please be patient! I have gotten an overwhelming amount of requests recently, so I'm working through them as fast as I can without burning myself out. I'm also in the middle of planning a long, full length Frank x Vigilante!Reader fic!

Matt Murdock's Headcanon

Summary: Frank comforts you after he witnesses your parents being cruel to you.

(Warnings: body negativity (from a parent), your parents being generally cruel and negative towards you and frank, protective!frank, soft!frank)

Frank would absolutely not let this happen in front of him. 

Frank has asked about them before, but you always brush off his questions, not wanting to explain the complicated relationship you have with your parents.  

Finally, when Frank and you decide to move in together, you tell him you want him to meet them, just once. 

You plan lunch at a restaurant in Manhattan and sit anxiously with Frank as you wait for them to show up. 

You warn him ahead of time that your parents can be passively cruel, but he’s still surprised when the first words out of your mom’s mouth are “Darling, your hair just looks dreadful. Did you even try to fix it today?” 

Frank’s displeased grunt doesn’t go unnoticed, but your parents don’t say anything. 

“Mom, Dad, this is Frank...my boyfriend.” 

Calling Frank your boyfriend after everything you’ve been through together feels cheap, but you don’t want to get into that with your parents.  

You can tell your mom disproves of Frank immediately, but she focuses her strikes on you.  

When you order a pasta dish, your mom turns her nose up and snorts, “Honey, don’t you think a salad would be better? Your figure is looking a little...different.” 

“Respectfully, ma’am, they can order whatever they’re hungry for. They’re perfect the way they are.”  

Frank says this nonchalantly, but his voice is stern. 

Your dad is not a fan of Frank’s blunt retort, but Frank doesn’t seem to care. 

“I don’t believe my wife was speaking to you, boy.” 

“I don’t believe I asked.” 

You try your hardest not to laugh, but a small smile sneaks onto your face. 

“This isn’t surprising. That you’d bring this...caveman with you. This is clearly just a cry for attention from your mother and I.” 

Keeping your anger in check becomes more difficult when you see your mom nod in agreement. 

Frank rests his hand on yours in your lap, reminding you that he can handle insults being thrown at him.  

You stand up, bringing Frank with you. 

“Nothing is ever good enough for you two, is it?”  

Frank follows you out of the restaurant, quietly walking with you as you stew in your anger.  

“I’m so sorry my parents said that stuff about you, Frank.” 

“Don’t apologize. I’m not worried about me. I’m worried about you. I didn't realize it was that bad. Are you okay?” 

He cradles your face in his big hands, lovingly stroking his fingers over your cheeks.  

You lean into his hold, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks.  

“Has it always been like that?” 

You nod in response. “That’s why I didn’t want you to meet them. I knew they’d act like they were better than you. They don’t even know you. It’s so unfair. I’m so sor-” 

“Quit apologizing, sweetheart. I don’t care about them. I love you.  

Frank holds your hand the entire walk home and offers to make lunch since your previous plans were ruined. 

You spend the rest of the day wrapped in Frank’s embrace and watching movies on your couch. 

He presses soft kisses to your shoulder and neck every once in a while, reminding you in hushed whispers that he’s completely in love with you. 

End Note: Thank you, nonnie, for this request! I hope you liked it! I'll post the Matt one shortly!

Tag List:

@alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys

[bellysoupset]

I cannot find the ask who requested for sick Wendy + Bella caretaker, so maybe it never existed at all.... Anyway, have some pure sick bromance between my girls.

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

"You think I should cut it?" Bella frowned at her reflection, glaring at her hair. She was standing inside of the changing room of the store, in just a swimsuit, so Wendy could help her pack for honeymoon.

"Your beautiful lion mane?" Wendy scoffed, curling up on the puff she was sitting on and absently minded going through the rack of reject bikinis standing next to her, "are you crazy?"

"Sometimes I feel like it stands out more than I do," Bella pouted, hands on her waist and then sighed, tugging on the swimsuit, "so what do you think?"

"I liked the blue one more," Wendy studied her from head to toe, "but I also think you're going to give Luke a stroke."

Bella opened a big, smug smile, looking over her shoulder to stare at her ass in the mirror, "good, then I'm taking it as well," she walked over to the private part of the changing rooms in order to get back in her clothes, "so how's the extra class you were gonna start taking coming along?"

"Which one of them?" Wendy asked, getting up and checking the price tag of a cute little pink bikini with a matching skirt.

"How many classes are you taking!?" Bella opened the curtain of her changing part, unbothered by the fact she was just in her bra and panties, "aren't you also doing the neurology residency!?"

"Well, you see, I have a lot of free time," Wendy shrugged, "and a lot of energy."

"You should join my boxing class then," Bella zipped up her black leather pants, "Jonah's there and I'm kicking his ass."

"No, you're not," Wendy giggled at the transparent lie, "no coach would ever match you up with Jonah, Bell, he's huge."

"Please," Bella rolled her eyes, putting on her band t-shirt and grabbing her purse as well as the picked swimsuits and bikinis, "I could kick his ass, I know I could," she walked over to Wendy and grabbed the smaller woman by her shoulders, "come up for a class."

"I'll think about it," Wendy wrinkled her nose in distaste. A gym wasn't exactly her idea of fun. Sure, she did hot yoga, but there was none of the loud upbeat music and shouting at each other to do more and better.

"So what else are you studying then, Tink?" Bella walked to the cashier part. Wendy handed her the piece she was planning to buy for herself when her friend flashed Luke's black card before her eyes with raised eyebrows, wordlessly putting it on his tab and Bell didn't comment besides snorting at it.

"Interior Design classes every Monday and Thursdays, yoga every Saturday morning, fashion drawing every Tuesday night... I wanted to try ballroom dancing, but my partner is in freaking Doveport and Jon said he already knows and it would be no fun."

Bella wrinkled her nose and shook her head when Wendy opened her mouth as if to ask her, "absolutely not."

"Boo," Wendy sighed, "I think we should take some class together, it'd be cool. Babs is in my hot yoga class and it's a lot of fun."

"Sure," Bella picked up the bags and they started to walk out of the door, "but not ballroom dancing, thank you. I'm actually participating in a coding challenge right now and-"

"A coding challenge," Wendy raised her eyebrows, "what's that?" They walked the short distance between the store and Wen's apartment building.

"Basically I have to try and design a mockup app with the monthly theme," Bella explained and Wendy frowned at that.

"I thought that was your job...?"

"No," Bell followed her inside the elevator, "I'm a backend developer, a frontend does the design and thinks the interface, I do the math that makes it work. But I like UI design, so that's why-"

"God, you're so nerdy," Wendy grumbled, resting against the metal and grimacing slightly as the movement made her stomach lurch, "I can't believe you didn't get shoved into lockers when you were younger, Bell."

The ginger rolled her eyes, "that's because I was always hot," she showed the other woman her tongue like a five year old, running a hand through her curls and then frowning, noticing Wendy's face had lost its usual pink tone.

Bella opted for not saying anything and they kept chatting, walking into Wendy's apartment. However, the longer they talked, the more Bell realized she was the one doing most of the talking, Wendy getting quieter and quieter.

"Wen," Bella pouted, after spending a good thirty minutes talking basically on her own, "do you want me to go? I don't need to spend the night if you're tired-"

"No!" Wendy exclaimed, shaking her head and moving on her spot on the couch, "sorry, no, I don't want you to leave. We planned you'd spend the night, I was looking forward to that, it's just-"

"It's just?" Bell leaned in, confused and Wendy grimaced, moving again as if she couldn't find a comfortable position, "what's wrong, Wen?"

"My stomach is bothering me," Wendy's cheeks turned a deep shade of red, "I don't know what's wrong, I know I didn't eat anything off, but it's all gurgly and kinda crampy."

"Oh," Bella raised her eyebrows, "do you think it could be hunger?"

Wendy shook her head, "no, definitely not hunger, I feel a little queasy..." she pouted, hugging her knees, "I'm sorry, its just my stomach- I- It's a bit of a sore topic."

"Your belly?" Bella frowned, more confused than before, "you feeling sick to your stomach is a sore topic?"

Wendy nodded, pouting and resting her cheek to her knee, "yeah..."

"Why?" Bella crawled on the couch, moving closer, "because you're chubby? That's silly, babe-"

"No," Wen scoffed, before pausing, "I mean, sorta? I used to have issues with my weight back when I was a teen, which led to becoming bulimic and, well, I don't have an eating disorder anymore, but every time I feel like I'm gonna barf, it makes me feel disgusting-"

"Okay," Bella raised a hand to interrupt her, "your order of priorities is a little skewered, Wen. You should've started by telling me you think you're going to puke..." she opened a small, amused smile, "let's go sit in the bathroom, c'mon."

"No," Wendy curled up more, "I'm fine, it's gonna pass- You're not gonna say anything about..?" she raised a judgmental eyebrow and Bell shrugged, standing up from the couch.

"I don't have anything to say," she said in a nonchalant manner, "I'm happy you don't do it anymore...?"

Wendy let out a snort, noticing how uncomfortable Bella seemed being in the emotional caretaker role. She rolled her eyes, "okay, Bells," but the humor quickly vanished, as her lunch flipped yet again. Wendy let out a sigh, curling up in a smaller ball, "I feel gross."

"You're not," Bella patted her head, "c'mon, let's go sit in the bathroom before you ruin your pretty rug."

Wendy didn't have the heart to tell Bell that sitting in the bathroom waiting to throw up really made her feel more awful, not less. She fidget uncomfortably as Bella rummaged through her cabinet drawers until she found a good claw clip to pull Wen's hair back.

Then she sat down as well on the cold ground and planted a hand on Wendy's back, "you feel a little warm, Wen."

"Isn't that just grand," Wendy groaned, leaning forward and staring at the still water of the toilet. She pushed away, fanning herself, "can you go sit in the living room? I don't want you to see me like this..."

"Nope," Bella popped the P at the end of the word, pulling Wendy to lie against her, "sucks for you, but I'm not going anywhere. Come here- Come here-" Bell pulled her closer, draped across her lap and planted a hand on Wendy's unsettled tummy, "I do this for Luke all the time and it helps."

"That's because your husband is an overgrown puppy, I'm not," Wendy groaned, but she couldn't help but melt at the soft touch. Even if her whole face was aflame, Bella was being really delicate, moving her fingers to the sorest spots as if she already knew them by memory.

The ginger slid down slightly, muffling a yawn and pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy's tummy. The pale skin was pushing out, bloated, and every time Bell pressed it she could feel a string of gurgles under her fingers, traveling up-

"Oh, you silly idiot," Bella scoffed, flicking at Wendy's ear, "the belly rub doesn't help if you don't burp. That's the entire point of it!"

"You're killing me," Wendy groaned, pressing her face to Bell's leg and hiding the angry blushing overtaking her cheeks. Bella snorted at that, continuing the rub.

"I'm trying to help," she whispered, "tell me know if I'm making it worse."

"Not worse," Wendy squirmed, then a burp rushed up before she could muffle it and she let out a whine at the loud noise, covering her face, "oh God- I'm sorry-"

"You're so silly," Bella chuckled, "that's nothing, Wen.”

Wendy cringed, pressing her face further to Bella’s thigh and continuing to burp, trying to muffle them. The burps, that at first were making her feel better, got progressively wetter, until one brought her lunch with it and Wendy scrambled up, slapping a hand over her lips and rushing for the toilet. 

She didn’t vomit, it went back down, but left her feeling shaky, nausea causing cold sweat to break on her forehead and over her upper lip, flooding her mouth with a horrible taste. 

“Wen,” Bell planted a hand in the middle of her back, “what do you need? What’s wrong?”

Wendy groaned, lifting herself slightly so she could press her sick stomach against the porcelain and resting her forehead on her hand, elbow on the seat, “can’t puke… Wanna puke, I feel-” she spat again, the act of speaking causing more saliva to come up, “feel sick…”

“Okay,” Bells continued to rub her back, short nails making a scratching motion, “do you think drinking something might help it come up?”

She felt so horrid, talking about vomiting like that. Wendy nodded, before letting out a groan, almost a sob. Not quite crying, but close. At least this time it wasn’t her fault she was sick, silver linings. 

“Babe,” Bella sighed, returning from the bathroom sink with a glass of water, “hey, you’re okay, it’s just a stomach bug. Happens to everyone…” 

Wendy took the glass with shaky, sweaty fingers and forced herself to gulp it down. The first sip was actually good, pushing back the horrible taste and the stickiness in her mouth, only for the throat to seemingly close up, tongue curling with disgust, making it incredibly hard for the to swallow more-

“Fuck,” Wendy haphazardly shoved the glass in Bella’s general direction, not even sure if she took it or not before letting go and her whole back arching with a violent heave. Nothing came up, but it set off a chain reaction, her belly squeezing before she could catch her breath and another two gags, until a wet burp brought up a huge gush of half digested french fries and a milkshake.

The sheer volume made her feel like she was drowning and Wendy coughed, hacking again and letting out a string of moans as even more puke rushed up, splashing on her fingers, and making her head swim with the lack of oxygen.

“I got you, I got you,” Bella said softly, cupping her forehead and flushing the toilet, helping Wendy lean over it, “get it up, Tink, you’ll feel better soon.”

“Urgh,” Wendy spat in the now clear swirling water, struggling to breathe. Her nose was stinging and it felt blocked, she felt cold all over… “Can I have more- More wa-” she never did finish that sentence, her stomach contracting violently and more puke rushed up, this time actually choking her. 

Wendy folded almost completely with a coughing fit, feeling Bell thump her back and force her to straighten up in order to clear her airways, “big breaths, babe,” Bella tipped her chin back, forcing Wendy to look up, and some clear air to make it through. 

The smaller girl groaned as oxygen came back, her spine giving up on her and she fell back, only for Bella to grab her by the wrists and stop her from swan diving and hitting her head against the porcelain. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck — Hey, Wen? You with me?”

“Uhm,” Wendy closed her eyes, dizzy and nauseous, still gulping for air. She leaned to the left, her cheek meeting something soft, so Wen let her weight drop against it, “feel…” a little burp interrupted her, “really shitty.”

She heard Bella let out a relieved sigh at her being responsive, then the ginger’s hands on her face, something wet wiping her lips and chin. Wendy frowned, a new wave of humiliation washing over her, “don’t do that…”

“Shush it,” Bell scoffed, pulling her to lie against her, “you’re done? Surely you must be empty…”

“Don’t know…” Wen mumbled, planting a hand to her tummy. Bella had pushed up her top and it was still up, which made Wendy feel even worse. She must be a sight. Under her hand, there was a string of bubbles and gurgles, rushing up and causing her to let out a little sickly burp, “don’t feel done.”

“There ain’t no way,” Bella scoffed, but there was an amused tone to her words, “well, okay, do you want to just wait it out here or-”

Wendy forced her eyes open, feeling more than a little dizzy. It took her a second to realize she was pressed against Bella’s side, her cheek against her friend’s boob, causing her whole face to turn pink with embarrassment. She pulled back, then leaned forward over the toilet once more and shoved a finger inside her mouth, only for Bella to yank at her hand. 

“No, absolutely not,” Bella’s voice was harsh now, none of the previous lighthearted air, “you’re not doing that.”

“I don’t feel good…” Wendy whined, spitting in the water, “I want it out…”

“I don’t care, you’re not doing that,” Bella scoffed, then in a calmer tone she said, “let me rub your tummy, okay? Maybe it’ll help.” 

“No, Bell, I-” Wendy heaved, a mouthful of watery vomit falling in the water and leaving her panting, “I need to puke, my stomach feels sour and like it’s burning…” 

“Alright,” Bella had a practical tone that caused Wendy to groan, like she was a little engineering problem for her friend to solve. The ginger got behind her, pushing the glass of water back to Wendy, “big gulps.”

“Not- Not gonna-”

“Big gulps,” Bella repeated, voice firm, “c’mon, Wendy.”

Wendy sighed, blowing out another airy burp and then forcing herself to drink the rest of the water. It landed in her stomach like acid, causing more of the burning sensation that tickled her throat and Wendy groaned, leaning more-

Bella touched her belly, her fingers no longer that soft, pressing the heel of her hand to Wendy’s bloated upper stomach, right where it rounded out of her rib cage. The pressure caused a gurgly burp to come up and Wen moaned, squeezing the toilet seat with both hands, as Bell continued to literally squeeze her tummy. 

She couldn’t breathe properly, making a slightly wheezy sound, and then her stomach contracted once more, sharply, and Wendy moaned her way as another gush exploded out of her mouth. This time it was mostly sour, salty water, but the first gush opened the gates for the rest and she continued to gag, puking little mouthfuls of chunkier stuff, until she finally let out a deafening heave, whole back curling as her stomach forced up the last of it.

Wendy groaned, her knees giving in and she felt Bella wrap her up with an arm, flushing the toilet, “there you go,” the ginger pressed a kiss to the top of her head and Wendy would have started crying, if she wasn’t half convinced she already was. 

She whimpered, pushing her face against Bella’s stomach and falling into an awkward position across the woman’s lap. Bell seemed unbothered, combing her fingers through Wendy’s hair, then moving her hand to her tummy.

“How are you feeling?”

“Pathetic, disgusting, horrible-”

Bella glared at her, “that’s all bull,” she said sharply, “I wanna know how’s your belly.”

“Ah… Better. Not settled,” Wendy sighed, curling up her knees, “I think it’s the flu.”

“I think it’s the flu too,” Bell agreed, “you’re really warm. Think you can stand up? You need to get out of these clothes and into bed.”

“Not now,” Wendy mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut when shaking her head no caused the bathroom to blur, “I’m sorry you had to-”

“Madre de Dio, Wendy!” Bella cried out, “babe, you didn’t gross me out or whatever, just stop fucking apologize. It’s fine, you got sick, that happens.”

Wendy let out a whine, forcing her eyes open, all feverish and emotional and wanting to die, “you don’t think I’m gross? I mean, I-”

“Wendy,” Bella grabbed her cheeks, forcing their eyes to meet, “what world do you live in where we’re running beauty contests on the bathroom floor?”

The phrase caused Wendy to let out a chuckle, pulling back and forcing herself to sit up. She wiped at her forehead, desperately wanting out of her the clothes that were sticking to her, “I guess.”

“You guess,” Bella repeated, dryly and rolling her eyes, “that’s a ten for Wendy Marshall for puking her guts up with class and elegance, minor sobbing and almost no mess.”

Wendy’s cheeks caught on fire and she glared at her friend, “shut up, Bella.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Bell scoffed, getting up and extending her hand to help her up, “c’mon, let's get you in a shower and then in bed.”