#and im so tired of not knowing!! it's fucking exhausting questioning what the fuck is happening w me every 2 seconds

[sonofshu]

‎ ‎

[polaraffect]

current state of politics really got me swerving wildly between "yes I want to present as a man" and "oh god is this even worth it maybe I'm not even really trans" and it's bringing me to my limit

[crunchycrystals]

i think the plot of night film is interesting but there are so many moments where i just read the writing and go "oh no" out loud

[mangoofthesea]

.

[lynxalon]

brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[rafeandonlyrafe]

orange peel theory (dark! and soft!rafe)

words: 1k (about 500 words each)

warnings: name calling, suggestive

orange peel theory: girlfriends ask their boyfriend to peel an orange for them, as a test to see if they are willing to help with small tasks that the girlfriend can do herself

dark

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“what are you doing?” rafe questions, looking at you with concern, not sure if he’s ever seen you read before.

“nothing.” you shake your head, shutting the book and setting it down, glancing at your phone to make sure it is still recording. “how was work?”

“fucking tiring. dealing with idiots all day.” rafe spits the words out before toeing his shoes off and leaving them in the center of the room.

“im sorry.” you pout, standing up as rafe takes a seat on the edge of the bed. you move to stand in between his thighs, pressing a kiss to his lips. he sighs with satisfaction, wrapping his hands around the back of your thighs, rubbing over them, tucking his fingertips under your shorts to feel your bare skin.

“can you get me an orange rafe? i’m craving one.” you move away from him, setting back on your chair to make sure you are centered in the camera.

rafe gives you a confused look but nods, mainly because he also needs to get a glass of water for himself. he re-enters the room, tossing the orange towards you, which you catch easily.

“thanks.” you smile as rafe takes a sip of water and then sets it on the nightstand. “can you peel it for me though babe?”

“what?” he questions, moving to kneel between your legs, an amused look on his face. “my stupid little slut not able to peel it on her own? too much of a baby?” “rafey.” you whine as he takes the orange out of your hand, unpeeling it and tossing the peel into the trash. he pulls a piece and then hovers it in front of your mouth.

“open up whore, i know how much you love to do that.” rafe taunts you before you lean forward, taking the slice of orange into your mouth and pulling it out of his fingers, letting the citrusy taste flood your mouth.

“you are so mean, this was supposed to be for tiktok.” you point out your phone, making rafe turn to look at the screen opened and recording.

“what?”

“for tiktok, its some trend about asking your boyfriend to peel an orange for you to see if he will do small tasks for you, and you totally failed!” you whine, stamping your feet on the ground in annoyance.

“but i peeled the orange for you.” rafe says with confusion.

“while also calling me a stupid whore!” you stand up, grabbing your phone and stopping the recording, knowing you won’t put it on tiktok.

“are you not my dumb little slut?” rafe asks, standing and stepping close to you, hovering over with his intimidating height.

“i mean i am, but-”

“exactly.” rafe cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours as he backs you up towards the bed.

soft

you quickly set your phone in a discreet spot, already recording as you move back to your chair, pretending to be reading your book as rafe walks in.

“hey baby.” rafe leans down and gives you a kiss on the top of your head, which you quickly tilt up to have him press a second one to your lips.

“how was work?” you ask, setting your book to the side, glancing at your phone to make sure its still recording.

“exhausting.” rafe sighs, rubbing his hand over his face, making you pout.

“im sorry bubs.” you comment as he sits down on the bed to take his work shoes off. 

“no big deal. how was your day?” rafe asks.

“good…” you shrug. you usually go into more detail, and rafe knows it, so he sits quietly, waiting for you to continue. “but i’m actually really hungry.” you blurt out, figuring you shouldn’t delay any longer as you look at your phone again, lucky that rafe doesn’t follow your line of sight.

“what are you hungry for? we can order delivery.” rafe knows you like to cook, but he also doesn’t force it on you, leaving the option to get takeout open whenever you are tired or simply don’t feel like cooking.

“i actually just want an orange.” you shrug.

“thats not really food, darling, but okay.” rafe stands, setting his shoes on the rack next to the door before heading out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.

you can’t help smiling at the camera as you wait, covering your mouth as rafe reenters, already knowing that he’s going to pass the test.

“here ya go.” rafe hands you a bowl instead of an orange, making your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion, before you take it and realize that the orange is already peeled and pulled apart, ready for you to enjoy.

“raaafe.” you whine.

“what?” rafe kneels down in front of your chair, placing his hands on your knees.

“i wanted a whole orange.” you complain, pouting your lower lip out as rafe looks at you in complete confusion.

“why, were you gonna eat the peel or something?” rafe laughs.

“no, its supposed to be a thing for tiktok.” you point towards your phone, which takes rafe a second to see from its hidden position. “you’re supposed to bring me an orange and i ask you to peel it to see if you’ll help me with a small task.”

“should i bring you back a whole orange then so you can ask?” rafe questions.

“no, i don’t even really want an orange to be honest.” you admit. rafe looks down into the bowl, taking a piece and putting it into his mouth, chewing it up. 

“what do you want then honey?”

“can you get me a banana?” you tilt your head to the side. rafe nods, grabbing the bowl from your lap before heading back to the kitchen.

you grab your phone and set it closer. “he’s just too good of a boyfriend.” you sigh as rafe comes back through the door, handing you a banana.

you smile at him in thanks, taking it out of his hand before he leans to press a kiss to your cheek, glancing at the camera, still recording when you realize how you can still test the theory.

“peel it for me babe?”

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @winterrrnight @bejeweledreverie

[rynbutt]

pierced. epilogue. | spencer reid.

It's Spencer's birthday and there are a lot of things to be shared.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ content (MDNI), kissing, other stuff shhh

a/n: im pretty proud of this one fr

His kiss against your lips was feverish– it was hungry and wanting, punctuated by his warm hand desperately squeezing the skin of your thigh, the other tangled in your hair as it sprawled over your pillow like a halo. 

You were always breathtaking like this– your face contorted in pleasure as you breathed soft whines and moans, unable to form coherent words. Spencer found it fascinating, how you bewitched him body and soul. You made everything melt away with your gentle touch and your soft kisses. Maybe it was how you cradled his face like you would divine art. Maybe it was how you looked at him, eyes so sultry and enchanting yet wide with innocence.

Spencer couldn’t handle it half the time, it drove him mad how he longed for you in every aspect of his life, how he spent every waking minute away from you wishing you were wrapped in the safety of his arms, where he knew no one and nothing could harm you. 

“Happy birthday, baby,” your voice was breathless as you whispered the words against his lips. One of your hands pressed into the nape of his neck, the other gripped the wrist beside your head, holding onto anything that would ground you in reality.

Spencer responded by kissing you again, swallowing your breathless moans as he snapped his hips against the soft flesh of your ass. The sounds were lewd and salacious, but it only provoked him further. His grip on your thigh was bruising at best, his mind growing foggy with desire as he lost control of his ability to notice the obvious strength he had over you.

You didn’t mind though– you never did. It only spurred you on further, your moans and whines growing louder and louder as your belly warmed. Tonight was supposed to be about him. It was his birthday after all and you wanted him to be the centre of attention. But when you spread your legs for him, your curves adorned in delicate lace, he couldn’t help himself.

“Spence–” You cut yourself off as another whine left your dry throat; it seems you forgot how to naturally function when Spencer’s cock was splitting you open, your head filled with nonsense the moment he filled you to the brim.

“Fuck, angel–” Spencer’s voice was low with lust, his lips pressing to the underside of your jaw. His breath was warm against the column of your throat, his lips pressing desperate kisses to your smooth skin. 

Spencer never got tired of you, he knows he never will. He’s so hopelessly in love with you and you have him wrapped around your delicate finger despite what you like to think. You were wrapped around him so tight, your core pulsing around him with such desperation.

He’s surprised he lasted as long as he did. You looked so beautiful with your skin adorned with intricate lace and bows– he kept it on while he fucked you, admiring every dip and curve of your body, truly convinced every part of you was carefully crafted for him and him alone.

Your hands combed through his hair as he calmed down, your legs tangled with his and the sheets. While fucking you was his favourite pass time; this part was always worth the wait. His body was heavy with exhaustion but he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were always so gentle, something he both envied and valued in you. You were safe; you were home.

“Marry me.” The words left his lips in a whisper. It bothered him how he hadn’t asked you yet– how he hadn’t even thought about it until that very moment. Spencer had always questioned the notion of marriage, wondering why people did it when– to him– it seemed outdated; almost pointless. He saw it with his own parents and he saw it with his friend, but with you it was different. Calling you his wife made him feel warm, being able to put a ring on your finger and call you his forever. He was going against his own reasoning and Spencer was willing to say his old way of thinking about marriage was wrong. Because with you, it seemed like the only reasonable choice he had ever made.

Your fingers stilled against his hair, your heart beating hard in your chest. “What?” You almost thought you misheard him.

“Marry me.” Spencer spoke a little louder, his chest blooming with warmth at the smile that tugged at the corner of your lips. You gently covered your mouth as a small surprised laugh left your throat, you didn’t mean to laugh, you really didn’t, but Spencer Reid– The Dr. Spencer Reid– wanted to marry you. “Don’t laugh, I’m serious,” he feigned offence, pulling your hand away from your face.

“I’m not laughing at you, I just–” You sighed, eyes blinking up at him softly, “You, Dr. ‘I don’t really believe in marriage’ want to marry me?”

He let out a breath. “I’ve thought about it.” He thought about it for maybe four seconds before deciding because he already knew what the answer would be, “and I want it. I didn’t think I would, but then I met you and… it just seems like the only logical progression.”

“Mm, I love when you talk about logical progressions,” you teased, your hands cupping his face gently, resting your forehead against his.

“You still haven’t answered me.” Spencer wasn’t nervous, he knew you loved him and wanted to be with him. Even if you said no, he wouldn’t mull over it because he would know that you had your own reasons. 

“What do you think the answer will be?” You were curious and it was so easy to tease him. He didn’t like when people pushed his buttons, but you could push all you like and he would adore you all the same.

“I think you’ll dance around it just to annoy me,” he started with a grin, “but inevitably you’ll say yes because the idea of getting to call yourself Mrs Reid would be too good to pass up.”

Oh how he knows you.

“Mm, you caught me,” you giggled softly, drowning in the softness of his beautiful brown eyes. You brushed your thumb over his cheekbone, “I’d love to marry you, Spencer.”

He smiled coyly. “See?” 

You rolled your eyes playfully, scooting yourself closer to him to press against his warm skin. He draped an arm over your waist, pressing his nose into your hair and breathing in your scent. This is exactly how he wanted to spend his 30th birthday, with you wrapped in his arms, tracing letters into your hip as your nails gently scraped against the skin of his back, following every gentle ridge of his ribs and spine, memorising his body beneath your fingertips.

“Are you sure we have to go?” Spencer called to you as he stood in front of your full-length mirror tying his tie. The end of the day came far too quickly– one minute he had your warmth wrapped around him, your lips and bodies clashing in feverish need. Now he was getting ready to go to dinner at a new fancy restaurant deep in the city when he would much rather stay tangled with you in bed.

“Yes, baby,” You replied, lining your lips in your bathroom mirror. “Penelope and JJ want to make tonight special for you for your birthday.”

You had already made it special. You made him breakfast, spoiled him far beyond what he deserved, then let him have you for hours. His birthday was already perfect but he knew his friends had tried hard to do something nice for him– but you said yes to his marriage proposal, so he’s doubtful this dinner could at all improve his day.

You stepped out of the bathroom, clasping the necklace Spencer had got you for your birthday last year around your neck. Your heels clicked against the floor in a way that was so alluring he was ready to ditch the dinner and have you again. But you would definitely protest, not wanting him to ruin your perfectly styled hair and makeup. He would just have to hold it together for a bit longer.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed, a smile playing on his lips. Your dress hugged your hips and waist, the neckline showing off your cleavage and the slit up the side to your mid thigh sending him reeling. You smiled at him, reaching for his tie to adjust it.

“You look very handsome,” you pressed up on your toes, kissing his cheek. His hands fell to your waist, holding you close as he pressed a peck to your lips. “Alright, we should go.” Spencer let out a soft sigh, holding his elbow out for you to link your arm with his. You chuckled softly, holding his bicep as the two of you left your shared apartment. 

Spencer’s fingers were laced with yours as you walked into the restaurant, walking slightly slower than he normally did since you were in heels; something you found rather adorable. Derek saw him first, wrapping his arms around Spencer and patting his back as he wished him a happy birthday. Derek planted a kiss on your cheek as he hugged you next, letting the rest of the team swarm Spencer with hugs, birthday wishes and presents. Spencer pulled your chair out for you before sitting down next to you, scooting his chair slightly closer to yours. He had his hand on your thigh the whole night, his thumb stroking the side of your knee. 

“More drinks! This is a day to celebrate!” Penelope cheered, pouring herself and JJ another glass of wine. Derek swirled his tumbler of whiskey around, lifting it up in a cheers motion to Spencer.

“Amen to that,” he nodded before taking a sip.

“What are you having, Reid? On me,” Emily offered, eyes narrowing at the man of the hour. Spencer waved her off, not typically one for drinking.

“Give mine to Y/N, I’m good,” Spencer said. 

“No, no, I’m good, Spence,” you squeezed his hand under the table. 

“Whaaat!” Penelope looked at you, stopping mid-sip of wine. “My loves, we must celebrate!” She pointed at the both of you and Spencer rolled his eyes playfully.

“Fine, but nothing too strong, please,” Spencer gave in, earning a cheer from everyone at the table. 

Emily turned to you, “what’s my girl having? Gin and tonic? Spiced rum? Wine? Name it and you’ve got it,” she grinned.

“No, I’m really good, thank you,” you replied with a breathy laugh, desperate to get the attention off of you. Emily noticed your slight embarrassment and backed off, getting up to get Spencer a drink from the bar. 

You quietly excused yourself, getting up and taking your purse to the bathroom. Spencer could tell something was bothering you. He excused himself to Hotch, following you to the back of the restaurant. He gently knocked on the bathroom door, calling your name. You washed your hands in the sink, letting out a sigh before opening the door.

“Are you okay, angel?” Spencer asked, voice laced with concern. He searched your eyes for a moment and he could tell something was on your mind.

“I’m pregnant, Spence.”

Spencer felt his mind go blank, his eyes widening at your confession. You didn’t sound upset when you said it, nor did you sound thrilled. You wanted to gauge his reaction before you started tangling yourself up in your own thoughts. 

After a year of dating, Spencer had mentioned the idea of kids to you, asking you if it’s something you wanted. You knew he wanted it, he was so good with kids and kids gravitated to him. It made your heart swell whenever he would play with Henry or Jack, wondering if that’s something you wanted for yourself. You wanted to give him that, of course you did. But when he asked you, you had just got a promotion and you were about to begin your second semester back at school and Spencer’s job was crazy, it didn’t seem like adequate timing. So you told him one day.

One day was apparently today.

“You’re… You’re pregnant?” He repeated, his voice barely above a whisper as the words sank in. His heart fluttered at the idea of you carrying his baby, a little boy or girl, he didn’t care. You were going to have his baby. He was going to be a family with you.

“Yeah, I am,” a smile tugged at your lips. “I wanted to tell you in a more… creative way? Like hide it in a book or give you a crossword or something but–” You cut yourself off, gently shrugging your shoulders as Spencer reached for your hands.

“How–How far along are you?” His voice was shaky, he was so nervous and excited and had no idea where to put all the emotions he was feeling.

“Eight weeks,” you grinned.

“Shit,” he cursed, a smile breaking out across his face. He pulled you in for a kiss, his hands cupping your cheeks. You held his suit jacket in your fists, kissing him back with just as much excitement and love. He pulled away slightly, “this is by far the best birthday present.”

You chuckled softly, “lucky her parents are hitched,” you teased.

“You know you can’t actually tell the sex of a foetus until 18 to 21 weeks, baby,” he said matter-of-factly. He gestured his head to the side, “it’s possible as early as 14 weeks but–”

You kissed him again to shut him up, “call it a mother’s intuition, Spence." Spencer led you back to the table, refusing to let go of your hand for the rest of the night. He had a lot of trouble sitting on all the news he had to share but he would tell them another time, all he wanted to do was spend the night with you and enjoy every waking minute of you.

a/n: i know most of you won't read this but i just wanna say thank you for reading this, i know it's not super canon compliant but it was more just a fluffy little series for me to write and i had a blast. and i know not everyone likes the pregnancy trope but god dammit! our boy deserves a family of his own!

i will definitely be doing more series in the future and i'm already working on another project that i hope you'll all like! anywho, love all of you and imma give you all a fat kiss goodnight, muah!

taglist: @crazycat-ladys-blog @cillsnostalgia @secretly-tumb1r @33-81 @elissanatok @outrunangelss @cultish-corner @666-gothic-bat-666 @evvy96 @littlemarvelstan8 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @meg-black @dreamsarebig @anuncalledbridge @fioletowelowe @ladylincoln @spencereidsgf420 @bollzinurmouth @scarlettssub @ipseitydelrey @donttrustlove @mcntsee @ruziazyn @valinherfantasyworld @khxna @maybe-not-this @shardsofmarxx @danadinosaur3 @justsarahbella @ah-blossom @lorelaireid @btskzfav @reidsdoll @pinkpantheris @violetvsworld @readergf @pangirl-fangirl @emideadpoets @blackbeautyiloveyouso @amethyst-marie368 @amethyst-marie368

[shotmrmiller]

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS AMAZING PLS IM SOBBING I LOVE IT SO MUCH GIVING U SMOOCHES

but okay so you sleep by yourself that night he comes home. you know he goes out with the boys — mostly on the weekends but sometimes the weekdays too — so when he comes home just a bit later than usual it doesn’t ring any alarm bells even if you pout a little. and you damn near run into his arms and snuggle into his neck only to smell — not him. something, someone else has touched what you thought was yours.

you pull back from the hug to look him over further. clothes mussed up, lips looking like they were bitten, a little flushed. a little like when you two —

you swallow thickly, throat lining with glass and tears as you suck in a breath. you find that you can’t actually form words for a moment, worried that only bile and venom would come out.

“did you fuck someone?”

he looks panicked — guilty — and you don’t even need him to say it for you to know what he’s done.

“who?” you ask, voice barely there, only able to be heard over the icy silence that followed your question. he replies one of the other pets. you nod, more to yourself than anything, trying not to scream your heart out at him.

but your heart cracks the moment he opens his mouth.

for the first time since you began living with him, you slept alone.

(you did scream at him. tripping over your words and panicked breaths and streams of tears. how could he do this. he didn’t call, didn’t ask. did he even think to? did he even care?)

you’re exhausted. too tired crying like you’ve never cried before, feeling like the weight of betrayal is crushing you as you sleep.

you almost fear that it’ll kill you.

the next day — friday — he knocks on your door before he goes to work. he tells you to have a good day. you don’t acknowledge him.

but you miss him. you absolutely fucking hate him but you miss him so much, it hurts. that particular ache is almost worse than the one of betrayal.

almost.

by mid day, you figure you should give him a chance to talk. he obviously feels guilty, and you love him. despite everything, you love him.

so you clean yourself up and try to look a little pretty for him, wearing a cute slip lingerie dress and bows on your ears.

you clean up around the flat a little. you fold his clothes — he’s been grumbling about it lately and always say he’d do it later. so you do it for him, folded with precision and left to sit on the edge of the bed.

you’re still upset and anxious and everything in between. the nerves make it hard to feel anything and you feel too sick to eat. but you nibble on some bread, knowing he wouldn’t want you to neglect yourself. you love him.

when it starts getting later, you decide to make him his favorite cookies. it’s been awhile since you’ve made him anything, and you’ve always enjoyed making these for him. the sweetest kisses tend to follow.

the night rolls around to the point where you know he’s off work. it’ll take him a little to get home, so you settle on the couch and wait.

but as the hours tick by, later and later, the worry grows and gnaws and threatens to split you from the inside out.

maybe he’s out with the boys again? you’d think, given the circumstances, he’d want to come home to you. but old habits die hard, you suppose.

but it gets later. and later.

later than he ever would be out even when things were perfect between you two.

it shatters you. where was he? what was he doing? was he —

the thought makes you sick.

he comes home after midnight. after you wretched in the toilet and cried yourself to sleep — again.

didn’t he love you too?

he sees the cookies put away in a container and a pit grows in his stomach, a void ready to eat his heart. whatever is left of it, anyways.

there’s a note sitting on the top.

“sleep well.”

the writing was shaky and it looks like a few tears spilled onto the words as you wrote them.

your usual xoxo at the bottom was crossed out.

you beat me to it:)

you bloody beat me to it. Fool me once.

your eyes are blank as if the life had all but faded from them, and in a way, they had.

Sitting him down, you calmly, (calmly, because there is nothing in you left other than acceptance, and youll be damned before you ever beg a man to want you) say, "I'll be leaving in the morning."

He tries to say something but nothing he could ever say will fix what he chose to break. "No, the fact that i'm even bothering to tell you is a courtesy you don't deserve. You've made your bed, now continue to lie in it with whoever you keep seeing after work." Smoothly, you get up and walk towards your room.

There is no rancor in your heart for whoever it is he's been with. After all, the one in the relationship with you was him.

You stuff a towel under the door, covering the gap, and clutch your collar to your chest, letting the last tears youll ever cry over him track down your cheeks. He doesn't deserve to see nor hear your pain.

You call an uber while he's at work and disappear.

When he comes back home, the place is dark and empty. He sits at the dinner table alone, with two fingers of whiskey in front of him, and in his hand is the last note you left him, stiff with dried tears and an xoxo at the very bottom.

What makes him crumble is when he sees the glint of your personalized collar on his nightstand, and it finally hits him that you're gone. For good.

listening to eurielle while writing epic sad is just chefs kiss.

[elsfairy]

emi my love, can i request a scream! ellie or abby for halloween? i’m planning on writing one as well but i’d love to see how you’d pull it off. (amazingly ofc🤭)

oh my.... the way you’re trusting me with this..... 😳 me lowkey not knowing if you wanted smut, but we all know im a whore for it. for you, i did my best so i hope this is what you wanted, baby 💗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐘 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — a. anderson

Tonight was a cold evening, colder than usual, especially with it being Halloween. You had spent most of your afternoon going into the evening, slowly but perfectly getting together a little candlelight dinner for your girlfriend, Abby. It was your 2 year anniversary and you wanted tonight's dinner to be a lot more special than when it was your one year. Thankfully you hadn’t had kids and their parents knocking on your door, smiling and asking for candy so that gave you even more time to pick out the perfect outfit, find the best makeup looks and finish it off with the sweetest perfume.

There was only one slight problem in the plan you had ready for tonight . . . she was late. In fairness to her, she had to work a long shift tonight so you knew her schedule was going to be a little crazy but you only received the ‘i won’t be able to make it tonight’ text 30 minutes ago. You were defeated, you felt stupid and you were exhausted from spending so much time on your feet, trying to make something perfect for her, for you both, only for it to be ruined because she had to work late. It wasn’t unusual for her to be late, but it was weird because she promised she would be here. She even said she had an extra surprise for you, so why the sudden change?

At first, you were waiting for another text saying she was just kidding and that she would be home soon, but it never came. You had gotten tired of watching the minutes tick by on the clock in the kitchen from where you sat in the living room, and with a defeated sigh, you dropped the napkin you had resting on your lap, onto the table and pushed your chair out to make your way to the bedroom.

Your hand had just reached the door handle of your bedroom when the sound of your phone, the one you left on the dining room table, had started to ring which had you turning around, sprinting to it, hoping and praying that it was Abby and she had somehow managed to get someone to cover her shift to be home with you.

“Hello?” Your voice cheerful.

“What’s your favourite scary movie?” The voice, one you didn’t recognise came from the other side of the phone.

The smile you had on your face dropped, frustration and sadness took over quickly. Rolling your eyes at the stupid question, you continued your way to your bedroom. “I’m not in the mood for your questions” came your snarky, bitter reply. “How’d you even get this number?”

“Oh, c’mon everyone has a favourite scary movie”

“I don’t. I’m really not in the mood for this bullshit”

“Is that why you look so miserable in such a pretty dress?”

The air was suddenly knocked from your lungs, your body turning around abruptly as your eyes were looking everywhere. Confused about how this stranger, who you’ve never met, knows exactly what you’re wearing and just how fuckin’ miserable you look. “I don’t know what sick game you’re playing, but know that my girlfriend is on the way home from work, and i won’t hesitate to call the police. Do you hear me?”

Not wanting to entertain this douche any longer than you already had, you hurriedly hung up the phone, almost throwing it with how frustrated you were with how ruined this night had become for you. All you wanted was a nice night with the woman you loved, eating something you both adore and instead, you had some idiot prank calling you at your worst. It was indeed a shitty night and you wanted nothing more than to take a warm bath and sleep the night away. 

Your body had just reached the end of the bed when the sound of the floorboards beneath you had creaked. The only fucked up floorboard in the apartment that you had been telling Abby for months to try and sort out. It wasn’t your foot that caused it, you always avoided that one out of habit when your girl has been working all day, and tried to avoid waking her up in the early hours of the morning. The hair on the back of your neck stood quickly, and your body on it’s own accord turned just slightly to spot the figure— a tall, broad-shouldered figure standing in your doorway. Face covered with a mask you thought was familiar but couldn’t really name right now, and their head tilted, just watching you.

For some reason you didn’t feel panic, your heart was racing sure, but the longer you both just watched each other, you didn’t feel any need to instantly throw something at your intruder. However, the panic raised in you slightly when the figure took one step forward as you took one back. A subtle yet soft gasp had slipped past your lips when your back gently knocked into the wall, your hand trying to grip something to stop yourself from falling flat on your face. “Careful, wouldn’t want you falling over on me now”

The voice sounded like one you had recognised but it was so muffled by the current mask, it was making it hard for you to understand and put your finger on it. Your heart picked up the pace and started beating a little faster, where the fuck was Abby? Why were you not screaming? Trying to push them away? Something about them seemed so . . . comforting but maybe you were just slightly delusional from the half glass of wine you had.

You hadn’t realized you had zoned out slightly until the feeling of fingers grazing your jaw, pulled you out of your trance, your lips part at realizing just how close they are to you. The feeling of them being so familiar with you still resides in your chest, and it isn’t until you hear that fuckin’ breathless chuckle that your knees buckle.

“Abby?” 

“You really think i would stand you up on our anniversary, baby?”

You simply couldn’t focus on what she was saying because you were too focused on the hand she had groping your tits, somehow already pulling your dress down to get a view of them, her fingers pinching at your already hardened nipples, while her other hand is sliding up your dress, already slipping into your panties. With a groan she leans more into you, pushing you more into the wall, the feeling of your slick covering her fingers. “Jesus Christ, you get so fuckin’ wet. This turn you on that much?”

With the way her fingers were rubbing circles on your clit, spreading your slick over your folds, and how good her hand was on your tit, you couldn’t form one correct sentence, and the only thing that you were letting out was whimpers and whines into her shoulder, nails bluntly digging into her arm. “wanna see you, please? please let me see you Abs” You beg softly, your back arching off the wall when those thick fingers tease your hole.

“Yeah? c’mon then pretty girl, take it off for me”

The second those words came from her mouth, your hands moved quickly, gripping the bottom of the mask, and pulling it off swiftly. Her blonde locks cascade down her shoulders, flyways framing her face, and your heart melted at the sight of her blue eyes looking at you with such a soft look, and a grin making it’s way onto her face. “Knew you were freaky, but not this freaky”

Before you had time to defend yourself or bite back at her words, she slipped her fingers inside your cunt, your walls instantly trapping them and the action caused her to grunt into your neck, while you were gasping out her name softly at the intrusion. The sounds leaving you were driving her crazy, and sending her brain into a frenzy. You always made the prettiest sounds, and she would keep doing everything possible to hear them.

Resting her forehead against yours, the squelching sound your cunt was making rang through her ears loudly and she could feel her own cunt clenching around nothing at how good you felt, how good you sounded, and how pretty you begged “Say my name, baby” She whispered breathlessly against you.

“Abby . . ”

Rubbing your clit with her thumb, you almost felt winded at the extra attention, and Abby was quick to remove her hand from your tits, to wrap her arm around your waist to keep you up, and steady. You had to use all your remaining strength because her touch always did make you fuzzy and light-heade, to cling onto her, while her eyes darted between your pretty lips that parted with such soft moans, and down where she watched her fingers disappear inside your cunt.

Your hand had caught her wrist quickly when her thrusts sped up just slightly, grinding yourself into her touch, your legs fell even weaker when she chuckled in your ear, her fingers still pumping in and out of you at a fast but gentle pace.

“Good, because it’s the only thing you’ll be screaming tonight”

[porcalinecunt]

THE NAGI THROAT FUCKING. POR FAVOR.

especially when he's tired and eepy after trainings. but just when he sees your sleeping figure, he can't help getting a hard on. you, in one of his huge dress shirts that he wore recently. even in your sleep, you entice him with the curves outlining his shirt and the soft snores coming out of your mouth. there, he sits next to you for a while. contemplating whether or not to do it.

"just a little will do," he nods.

please continue cuz im busy running laps rn here's my request to you please PLEAAAASE nagi consensual somno throat fucking just the tip your post just gave me rabies

thank you for reading my request hehe (＾ω＾)

𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄.

💌 `` ~ ୨୧ ♡ · ~ nagi, exhausted and sweaty from training, coming home to your sleeping figure when an idea popped into his head.

✟ 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 𝐗 𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

✟ 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖

𝐜𝐰 — timeskip!nagi, somnophillia (consent being explicitly established.), sound kink(?), oral sex, blowjobs.

𝐚/𝐧 ❥ tysm for the request nonie! i’ve been having nagi brainrot for the past few days and this only made it worse, i couldn’t ignore this! i hope you enjoy this, i had fun writing this. 🤍

How could he resist?

Walking into his shared bedroom, he stopped dead in his tracks once his eyes fell onto your sleeping figure. Curled up in a fetal position, your knees touching your chest and hands resting comfortably beside your head.

Your body twitched and little noises squeaked out of your mouth, much to Nagi’s adoration. However, it was what you wore to sleep that made his cheeks flush a bit.

You adorned one of his dress shirts, specifically, the one he wore not too long ago. It was so much larger on your smaller body, yet the fabric sunk into your curves and details that Nagi always loved about you. It still had his cologne, filling your nose with his scent, almost like if he was laying right beside you.

He almost forgot the hard on that was now obvious.

“Shiiit. What a pain.”

He sighed, plopping down next to you. Staring at your face, his eyes landed on your lips. Pouting with your cheeks squished against the pillow, an idea popped into his head.

Digging into his pants, Nagi fished out his leaking cock. Painfully hard and the tip flushed and wet with precum, he gave it a couple strokes as he continued to stare at you. He hissed, holding back his moans but ultimately failed when one slipped past his lips.

“Just a little will do.”

He thinks about two nights ago, when you randomly popped the question if he was okay with somno. originally hesitant, worried that he’ll scare you, he was on edge about it. however, you reassured him. Reminding him about your trust in him, enough that you know he wouldn’t do such a thing. Nagi wouldn’t hurt a fly, and neither would he hurt you.

With that, he inched the tip near your lips till they touched. Precum made them glossy, as he lightly slaps and rubs his tip against them. He hummed, almost hoping you’d wake up and take it all at once.

After testing the waters, he gently pushed it past your lips as your mouth falls open, allowing him to shove his whole tip in. He threw his head back, sighing out a groan. He couldn’t help but slowly push in a little more, enough for your cheeks to puff up from them being filled. He watched in awe as he pulled out a bit before thrusting his cock back in.

As he fucked your small mouth, small mewls and quite moans came out of you, going straight to his dick. You were enjoying this.

Fuck it, at this point, Nagi couldn’t hold back anymore. Using one hand to hold your head while using the other to stroke his cock, he sunk himself into your mouth. A loud gasp startled him, as he looked down to see your face. Wide awake, with surprised eyes and a deep hue of red that covered your face.

“Did i wake you?”

He groaned, adjusting himself so you wouldn’t choke. You sat upright till you were on your knees, staring up at your boyfriend with syrupy eyes. You lazily dragged your tongue against his shaft, still groggy and heavy eyed. Bobbing your head up and down till your nose touched his fine hairs and your fingers curled into the sheets.

Nagi watched you drown in his ecstasy, so obedient and so needy even in your sleep. Makes him wonder if you were secretly waiting for him to come home and slap his pretty cock in your face. No wonder why he couldn’t wait till morning to fix his little problem.

“We should do this more often, hm? Don’t you think angel?”

[a-boca-do-inferno]

beija minha boca até me matar (tony montana x reader) [request]

summary: Tony is stressed and you are tired.

warnings: angst, swearing, abuse and sort of fluff.

words: 0.8k

notes: this is small and very anemic plot wise, so im sorry for that. loosely based on doce vampiro by rita lee.

Sometimes you wondered if your love would stop enduring at some point. If no matter how much you wanted to be with him, someday your body and soul would finally give in to the exhaustion, because that’s how you felt. Exhausted. God, what time was it? It felt so long since you’ve last rested. Insomnia was a big thing these days with all the chaos around you, the gang fights, the power struggles; you understood nothing of it, but at times you wish you did. Maybe you’d be able to help Tony in the slightest, offer him some comfort. And you tried, oh, did you try. But it was just to no avail.

He was as restless as you, although he tried to disguise it as his customary anger towards the world. You could sense it whenever he was close, when his hand would tremble just a little as he gulped down a glass of whisky in one go. When the crease between his brows would become only a little bit more noticeable. When he’d only swear once, as though not even those silly words were enough to somehow soothe him anymore. You did your best to try and give him some solace, but while your kisses pleased his face, his arms would fall coldly frigid at his sides. He wasn’t in the moment, and that was so uncharacteristic of him.  

You felt helpless at those times, often choosing to leave him in his office and go to your bed, crying in silence until the sun was up again. He would spend his nights away from your room, causing you to entertain thoughts maybe about you actually being the problem, not his issues in the drug business. You never dared touch anything other than alcohol and that was perhaps something that lingered in the back of his mind, still. Would he think you’d eventually turn on him, sell him out to the police? Sometimes he’d call you “good Samaritan”, because in his own words, “you’re too clean, too good, too uptight. What the fuck are you doing with me?”, and wasn’t that the million-dollar question?  

What the fuck, indeed? 

“You rely too much on people, Manny. That’s your fucking mistake”, comes his loud, deep voice from the corridor. You close your eyes in contempt, not really wanting to listen to one of his lectures again. God bless Manny for being able to do it more than you. “I say, fuck people. I can do anything by myself.” 

“Because it’s been working so well so far”, you let it slip out, causing him to give you a death glare. Tony didn’t scare you easily, contrary to popular belief, but he could become quite scary when he felt like it. This was one of those times. 

He huffs, walking towards you slowly, “what did you just say, princess? You think you can disrespect me in my own fucking house, drinking my own fucking whisky that I bought? Is that it?”

He’s agitated, and you unconsciously flinch when he sits beside you, like a lion cornering its prey. You can’t help but shake your head, looking away from his hard eyes. “You know I don’t like when you talk to me like that”, you say softly, albeit your words carry weight to them. You don’t say them to him very often, surprisingly, but when you do… He better watch his reply. Tony knows that.

Then, there comes your answer. No matter how many times he let stress get the best of him, and no matter how many of his motivations you simply did not understand: Tony was Tony, your Tony, and he would always be. So, you let yourself be wrapped in his big arms once more in silence, simply enjoying his warmth. He felt like home and he was home, as inhabitable as he could become at given times. It was like loving a vampire. Having your life be sucked out of you everyday, yet always craving for more. A delicious poison.

So, he does. “Mi amor”, he coos immediately, his frown fading in a second when he seems to come to his senses. You are practically crawling on the couch, in fetal position, guarding yourself from his touch, and he notices this. Tony extends his rough hand and rubs your thigh gently, nuzzling your neck, trying to make you more at ease in his presence. “I’m sorry, baby. I’m fucking stupid, I’m a fucking jerk. I’m sorry”, he speaks quietly, but firmly, his deep voice vibrating on your skin.

And somehow, all exhaustion dissipated when he got closer to you, serving like a long nap after a tough day. It seemed like you were the complement to one another. Maybe that was the reason you were still here, after all.

Enduring.

[illneverrecover]

god dammit i like it (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: card shark/gambling Changkyun, cocktail server reader, poker!AU, hurt/comfort, smut, angst, fluff (in that order). ➛word count: 9005 (oof) ➛rating: M ➛warnings: excessive alcohol use, cursing, dirty talk, very very soft femdomme energy, oral sex (female and male receiving), changkyun begging, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming, very brief mentions of blood, more soft clown changkyun. ➛summary: One last game, he tells himself. Just one last game, and he'll have enough money to take care of you the way you deserve, to show you how much you mean to him, to give you the life that you want... as long as he doesn't get caught. ➛notes: My second time writing Changkyun and as always, it's for the one and only @taetaesbaebaepsae. She had commissioned me (back when I still did those) to write something based on the God Damn MV, and then patiently waited for me to get my life together. I thoroughly enjoy creating new ways to hurt you with your ult bias, so I hope you enjoy this one! I did edit this one, but just barely, so please be gentle with me. Let me know what you think! ➛song: God Damn - I.M | Habits (Stay High) - Tove Lo (Hippie Sabotage Remix) ➛tagging: @taetaesbaebaepsae @lvupmushroom @thiccasswonhoruinedmylife - thank you for letting me use your likeness for this, and for looking it over to make sure it would truly hurt Kristy's feelings. Teamwork makes the dreamwork, bbs.

He’s an idiot, but you already knew that. 

The alcohol in his gut sloshes as he moves to stand, his glass painfully empty. Changkyun stumbles towards the bar, the thrumming in his head keeping pace with the bass thumping through the speakers of the club. 

His eyes are glassy, faraway when he reaches his destination, the cup fumbling out of his grasp as he indicates to the bartender he wants another. The bartender looks him over, seemingly debating on following through with the request, but he turns to grab the bottle of whisky regardless. 

Changkyun hates it. Hates that he’s so drunk, that you’re not here, that the guy serving him thinks he’s a mess. He knows he’s an idiot, that he should stop. Put down the glass and pick up his phone. That he should just call you and tell you he’s sorry for being such a moron all the time, and that he’ll listen to you from now on. That he does love you, and wants to take care of you, and he can fucking prove it, if you’ll let him.

But then he recalls the look in your eyes when you caught him – the disappointment, the pain – and he reaches for his now refilled glass, taking a swig before facing back towards the club. 

He doesn’t deserve it – doesn’t deserve you, to provide for you, to do any of it. Not when he’s such a jealous asshole, not when he’s such a fuck up. You deserve the world. Someone who can really give you what you need. 

Fuck, he wants to be that. There’s some moments when things are good, when you’re tucked into his arms in bed, sleeping softly beside him that he thinks he might be that – someone who can provide, be reliable, strong. But then he remembers your fights; his words of jealousy and anger, his avoidant nonchalant fake ass attitude, his fragile little ego shattering with a flick of your eyebrow and a sharp word. 

So he leaves his phone in his pocket, instead slinking back towards his booth before dropping into it. It was easy to ignore his friends’ questions, to insist that he was fine, to pretend to be more interested in the tray of shots being dropped off at the table. He accepted the small glass, slamming it down before he could think about the burn, about the empty churning in his stomach.

 It was easy to ignore his friends, but damn, Changkyun was tired of pretending he wasn’t fucking exhausted of trying to be okay without you. 

It had always been push and pull with him.

From the minute Changkyun had walked into Yvonne’s, the lounge where you worked, you could feel the snap of electricity, the buzz of magnetism that pulled you to him. He would’ve stood out from his clothing alone; his lithe form draped in a bright red perfectly cut suit, shirtless under the vest to show off his tanned, broad chest. The combination of cut and color was lethal on him and he knew it, his dark hair swept back to allow the full potency of his sharp gaze. The group of men he was with were also impeccably dressed and attractive, but there was something about him that had your eyes following him, unable to look away.

Luckily for you, he had seemed to feel the same way.

His friends had gone to sit at the Baccarat table in Kat’s section, but he had stayed behind, noting which tables your body was sliding between as you delivered drinks before he made his selection at the blackjack table at the end of your section.

He couldn’t keep his gaze off of you, ordering more drinks than he was actually playing cards you were certain, but you weren’t going to stop a paying customer. The table he was at was pretty low stakes overall; the crowd was a bunch of casual players, but he had enough money to keep up with the table, so they were willing to ignore his flirting. 

You were also trying to ignore it, playing into him enough to ensure your tip would be secure, but also knowing that this was likely all just fun for the rudely handsome stranger. And if there is one thing you enjoy doing, it’s having a little fun – especially while at work.

But there was something in the way he looked at you, the way that he spoke to you, that had you hanging on a bit more than you’d care to admit. You wanted to tell yourself it was just the fact that he looked like that in that suit – that his tattoos and cocky smirk on top of it all was just too  much for you – but you knew it was more than that. 

It was when you were dropping off his umpteenth cocktail that he finally made a move, his tattooed hand wrapping around your wrist to stop you and slide a piece of paper into your palm. 

“When do you get off?”

You smirked, trying to ignore the sudden rush of blood in your veins at his skin touching yours. “Why? Who wants to know?” 

His face deadpanned, his mouth dropping to a pout, and the juxtaposition of such a cute expression on such a lethal man made you laugh.

“I don’t even know your name,” you clarified, pulling away from his grip and tucking the paper into your apron.

“You could call me whatever you wanted,” he replies, voice low, glare fixed on you, “but others call me Changkyun.” 

The same things that had drawn you to him also made you roll your eyes, his cockiness frustrating just as much as it was attractive. He insisted on waiting until you had finished your shift, ensuring that you  made it safely to your car before reminding you about the paper tucked into your apron pocket. 

“It has my phone number on it so you can text me and let me know what time you want me to pick you up tomorrow.” He had murmured, his face so close to yours that you had forgotten to breathe. 

“Pick me up, hmm? Well aren’t we feeling awfully sure of ourselves,” you replied in a shaky breath, hating how much he was affecting you.  “What are you picking me up for?”

“I was hoping to take you on a date, but if you have things you need to do - errands, work - that’s fine with me too. Just let me take care of you.” 

It was as easy as that, the way he slid into your life. You hadn’t believed the offer, not really, but decided to text him anyway. You had some things to do before your shift, why use your gas when you could waste his?

But Changkyun was effortless, showing up in gray sweats and a black t shirt promptly at the time you requested, ready to chauffeur you all over town. He kept up with your teasing about his sad fuckboy music he was listening to, and let you mess around with his AC without complaint, like he had been doing it for a hundred years. 

Maybe that’s how he broke your walls down – acting so nonchalant, while also being dependable, always showing up when and how he said he would, always ready with an easy smile and a light joke. 

It could have been days, maybe weeks, but it didn’t take long for you to realize you wouldn’t be able to stay away from him. That you didn’t think you wanted to. 

Which was a complete contradiction to what you had told him – that you weren’t interested in anything serious, but if he played his cards right, you could be convinced for an evening of fun. An offer he had declined, telling you that he would wait until you changed your mind and wanted him fully. An answer that had infuriated you to no end, but one that felt inevitable. 

It was the 14th or 15th day of hanging out that he finally said the words, putting the feelings out into the space between you. His “I love you” came out rushed, as if the words had pained him, but the flush of his cheeks and shimmering soft eyes had you cracking, reaching for him to smash your mouth into his own. 

The kiss was unlike anything you had ever felt; the intense rush of heat nearly choking you when his tongue traced the seam of your lips, seeking entrance. He groaned when you had opened, the feeling of his tongue on yours sending the kiss deeper, starved for each other. He tasted like whisky mixed with the faint hint of gummy bears he was always snacking on, and you were drunk on his mouth, drunk on him. You don’t even remember if you had said the words back, the volatile energy between you now snapped and now your full focus until it was fully satiated. 

Changkyun slotted into your life like he had always been there. The familiarity of it soothed you, brought you a deep peace that you didn’t know you needed – but there was the other side of you, the one that had never allowed anyone to get this close, that was terrified of what this would mean. That knew letting someone in also gave them the power to break you. 

It was always a push and a pull with him, an intoxicating desire to give in, to let your heart find a home with him – mixed with the fear that eventually, that home would be ripped away. 

“Fuck,” Changkyun cursed, and your fingers tangled in the hair at his nape, tugging. 

“No marks,” you reminded him, though you would be lying if you said you didn’t love the feel of his mouth at your throat. His tongue was laving at the junction of your skin between neck and collar bone, suckling it between his teeth before soothing it with sloppy kisses.

You had been pressed against the wall of your apartment, him latched to you like a man starving until you had coaxed him down the hall towards your bedroom, letting him push you down onto the bed before resuming his work on your neck.

“Mmm,” he acknowledged, though he didn't stop his ministrations. “I wish I could mark you up, make sure everyone at Yvonne’s knows who you come home to.”

You had let out a breathy giggle, eyes rolling though he couldn’t see it. His silly jealousy over the stares you got while working at the lounge was just that - silly, nothing of merit - and yet, you couldn’t help but play into it just a little bit.

“Oh yeah? Who’s that?” you whispered, using your hand in his hair to guide him to your mouth, only stopping his descent when he was a breath away. 

“Don’t play games, sweetheart,” Changkyun leaned forward, nipping at your bottom lip, and your grip deepened. “We both know I’m the only one you’d let stick around this long.”

He was right about that. 

Closing the distance, you melted your mouth into his, letting him take control of the kiss for just a moment before you tug at his head once more, dragging him down your body. He complied quickly, pressing small kisses into your flesh as you guided him lower. 

“I don’t know,” you breathed, eyes hazy as Changkyun settled between your thighs, a groan leaving his throat when he saw you had forgone any kind of underwear beneath your skirt. “That one guy at table 7 was tipping really well, I bet I could-”

Your words were choked off with a moan as Changkyun dragged his tongue from the bottom of your cunt to your aching clit, giving it a singular swirl with the offending muscle before pulling back. 

“What was that?” he asked, but he didn't wait for a reply, not before delving back between your legs. He lapped at your center, taking his time tasting you before he settled up near your clit, sucking it between his lips. 

Any retort you had been working on died as he made quick work of you, sucking and licking until you were bucking up into his face, both hands tugging at his hair to hold him in place. He had become pliant beneath you, molding himself just where you needed in order to push you over the edge. Just when you felt like you couldn’t take any more, that you were going to snap, Changkyun slid two fingers inside of you, curling them upwards. 

“Please, come for me, sweetheart,” he begged, murmuring against the heat of your flesh. “I want it so bad.” 

His words were your undoing, and you find yourself doing exactly as he asked, moaning out his name as he takes you over the edge, his mouth and fingers working you through it in tandem. 

You exploded, white bursting behind your eyelids until you were boneless, unable to do anything but ride out your orgasm at the will of the man in front of you. Changkyun made sure to taste every drop of your release, slowly sliding his hand away from you only to quickly replace it with his tongue to lap at you until you were shoving him away. 

You wanted to make him feel as good as you did in that moment, wanted to return the favor, so you pushed him off of you and onto his back, switching positions to settle between his legs.

Hands tugging at his boxer briefs, Changkyun complied to your silent request, lifting his hips until you could drag them off. You were quick to palm his erection in your hand and squeeze, relishing in the hiss he rewarded you with, your thighs squeezing together. 

“Please,” he groaned, and fuck did he beg so prettily. “I just want to be inside you already, let me be inside you, yeah?”

Teasing the head of his cock with your lips, you hummed, playing as if you were considering his words. The truth was, having a beautiful man like him pleading you for anything was your kryptonite, and you would give him anything he asked for as long as he sounded like that.

Taking a final swipe of your tongue over his sensitive flesh, you gave him a smirk, moving until you straddled him, hovering for just a moment. Grasping his length, you line him up with your dripping cunt, sinking onto him slowly, tortuously. 

You may be giving him what he had asked for, but only because you wanted to, because you had deemed it aligned with your desires. Changkyun gave you full control over your pleasure, and you took it greedily. 

Once fully seated, you moaned, hips beginning to undulate and swirl against his. Pressing your palms into his chest, you began to work yourself over him, sliding back and forth until you were panting, thighs burning. 

His eyes searched yours, waiting for permission before he did anything more than take what you were giving him. “Fuck me, Changkyun,” you gasped, voice teetering into a whine. “Wanna come on your cock.”

Changkyun didn’t need to be told twice, didn’t need any more instruction before he was thrusting up into you, pelvis meeting yours. His hands tugged you down until your chest was flush with his own, his mouth seeking yours and coaxing it into a filthy kiss. 

“Fuck, yes, please come on my cock,” he rasped against your lips, his pupils blown as they make contact with yours. His gaze was intense, searing, but you couldn’t look away, didn’t want to. You wanted to be engulfed; consumed by him. “Use me, baby.”

Slamming down onto him, your pace began to turn frantic as he matched you thrust for thrust, each connection against your tender clit sending you further into oblivion. 

“You feel so good, Kyun,” you praised him, adjusting until your face was pressed to his neck. “So good for me, so perfect.” 

His answering moan reverberated in your chest, his arms tightening around you as his pace turned punishing, and it drove you crazy how something as simple as your words has him frenzied, falling apart beneath you.

Drunk on the power, you felt yourself hurtling towards your climax, nails digging into the skin on his back as he relentlessly slammed up into you. “Fuck, yes,” you cried, letting yourself go, giving in until you were over the edge, orgasm overtaking your senses. 

It was too much for Changkyun; the way your scent was all around him, intoxicating him, the way you were moaning curses and his name, the way you were clenching so fucking tightly against his cock. Before he could stop himself he was chasing his high right alongside you, shuddering as he pumped his release deep, unable to still his hips even when you were mewling from the sensitivity. 

Panting heavily against each other, you had tried to pull away only for Changkyun to roll you beneath him, pinning you under his weight. He was still fully lodged inside you, face nuzzled into the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your still sweaty-from-sex skin. 

“What are you doing, Kyun?” you chuffed, making a feeble attempt to lift his weight before letting him resettle against you. It was all for show, the response he expected from you. The truth was  you didn’t mind it - the feeling of him still inside you, the familiarity of his lips on your skin, the intimacy of it all - you didn’t mind it if it was with him. 

“Just let me hold you like this for a bit, hmm?” he mumbled against your neck, and you hummed your agreement, letting your eyes fall closed. He pressed a few lazy kisses to your throat before his breathing became measured, even, and you decided joining him in slumber wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“Promise me,” you murmured, voice thick and lazy. You were still naked and draped across his chest, listening to the calming beat of his heart. You had already woken and showered, deciding that clothes weren’t necessary before jumping back into bed together. That was several hours ago now. The smoke coming from his cigarette was curling up towards the ceiling, leaving a dreamy haze in the room. 

“I’d promise you anything,” he replied quickly, taking a drag, “but what specifically am I promising you this time, sweetheart?” 

“No more going to Kihyun’s high roller floors, Kyun. I know the pots are bigger, but you don’t know those men at those tables - not like I do.” You paused then, taking a shaky inhale. 

Being in your line of work, you were no stranger to dangerous men, however you purposefully stayed away from serving on those floors of the lounge for a reason. Those men were the worst of the worst, and even if they weren’t, they rubbed elbows and served those who were. Either way, the money may be sweet, but the risk wasn’t worth it. You made better than you ever had at the lounge with the sections you served,  and that was fine with you. 

But Changkyun had always wanted more. 

Ever since you had told him about your lofty dreams - the ones that you had saved for yourself in the darkest parts of the night, when your mind was racing and you couldn’t sleep - he hadn’t let them go. Truthfully, you always loved the idea of retiring your waitressing shoes and being able to finally write full time, working on the novel you’ve been imagining for years in some quiet home somewhere, tucked away from the world. But it broke you to see Changkyun willing to risk his life to see it come true by hanging around that crowd, placing higher and higher bets at Yvonne’s most hazardous tables. 

It was strange for you to accept that he would even want to do this for you, to support you in this way, but he always knew how to soothe those concerns, promising you that he genuinely wanted to care for you before gently ribbing you to stop being so damn stubborn. 

However, it was his stubbornness that had been creating a wedge between you. 

“They’re bad people, Changkyun. And I don’t mean like - scamming old ladies for their pension money bad, either. I mean like extremely shady dealings with people who are involved with things that would get them sent to prison, bad.” 

His free hand fell to your head then, smoothing your hair back as he took another puff of his cigarette. 

“I know they are. I’m only just polite enough for the rules of the game, I never engage with them more than that. I’m not there for friends or connections, just the money.” He took a final pull before dropping the spent butt in the ashtray on the bedside table, his other hand moving to rest over the one you had placed on his heart.

“I get that, but it doesn’t take much to get on their bad side. It could be the slightest thing. Sometimes, just winning is all it takes.” 

He sighed, but let the silence linger, instead letting himself get lost in stroking your hair softly. You were about to say something again, to make sure he had heard you, when he finally spoke. 

“I just want to take care of you, you know?” His voice was low, thick with emotion, though he tried to swallow it back. “Give you what you deserve.” 

That pain came back, the one deep in your chest, and you sat up to face him. “I know that. But I already have everything that I need, right here.” 

You tap his chest once, twice - his hand still firmly resting on top of your own. 

He met your gaze, giving you a small, cocky smirk, as if his eyes weren’t shiny with unshed tears. “What, you mean this hot body?” 

You scoffed, eyes rolling. Maybe you should’ve called him out on his side stepping, forcing him to vocalize that look he had been giving you, but instead you fell back into step with your teasing. It was, after all, the familiar dance between you two. 

“No, stupid. I meant you - you’re all I need. The rest of this shit is just noise.” 

“I bet I can make you make some noise–”

“Changkyun–”

“Okay okay,” he laughed as your soft touch turned into pointed jabs into his chest, sitting up to wrap his arms around you and stop your onslaught. “I hear you, sweetheart. You’re right. I’ll stay away,” he said, pulling you up and back until you’re leaning against his chest, arms still wrapped tight around you.

“Promise me?” This time when you say it, you made sure your eyes were locked on his, made sure the fear you felt was evident behind the words. 

“I promise.” 

It felt like a sign from the universe. Well, either that, or a promise from the devil.

But sometimes, those can look the same. 

The posting for Kihyun’s upcoming game had just gone up, but it was already making the rounds. Games like these were advertised in a certain way - you had to know where to find it in order to play, and the regular gamblers all knew the common message boards to keep an eye on. Changkyun hadn’t been looking for it, wasn’t even checking the forums anymore – but had gotten a text about it from Joohoney, a screenshot of the flyer accompanying his message of “Bro, did you see this shit??” 

A high stakes game, in two nights. The winning pot large enough that he would be able to retire you permanently, and he wouldn’t be too far behind you, honestly. You were already off work that night, plans in place for a girls night with Kat and a few of the other servers, so you wouldn’t be at Yvonne’s. 

It would just be one last time.

One last game, and with enough luck, he could finally give you the life that you’ve always wanted, provide for you in the way a man should.  Sure, you wouldn’t like it – the idea of him going to the tables again –  but that was only if you found out, and the chances of that were slim.

He could win the money and set it aside, give himself a week or two of regular games to make it seem a bit more feasible. A few days of being off your feet and back on your laptop would have you forgetting about work anyway, and the top floor of Yvonne’s would fade quickly away from your memory. 

It had to be a sign. He could do it, could pull it off, could be the man that you deserve. 

His fingers hovered over his phone, the reply ready to be sent to Joohoney. It would be just as easy to delete it, to tell him that he’s done with that shit. To text his best friend back and tell him that he can’t, because he told you he would walk away and stay away from those men. Joohoney might give him some shit, but he would understand, likely wouldn’t push the matter. 

But the money…

It didn’t take long for Changkyun to do the math; it would take months at the regular tables to get this kind of money, and that’s only if he kept winning. Which didn’t seem like long in the grand scheme of things, but when he thought of how your eyes lit up at the idea of writing full time, made it seem like it was centuries. 

You wouldn’t have to know. It would just be one last time. 

He pressed send on the text, foot tapping nervously until he saw the read receipt pop up under his message. 

“I’m in - one last game.”

You were mad at him again, but your friends didn’t need to know that. 

All they needed to know was that you were in the mood for a girls night out, and if they knew what was good for them, they’d be there in their sluttiest outfit ready to indulge with you. 

However, it only took you ordering the second round of shots to have Bri’s questioning stare fixed on your own.

“So, what did he do this time?” she deadpanned, sipping from her straw. 

“What? Who? I don’t know what you speak of,” you replied. “I’m just enjoying a night out with my friends.” 

“Sure, okay,” Kat nodded, giving a convincing performance of someone who actually believed your nonsense. “If he didn’t do anything, then why isn’t he here, buying us all drinks?”

She had you there. Changkyun was always wanting to show up on your nights out – not to crash them, but so that you and your friends could enjoy your time without having to worry about a single thing. He covered the tabs, made sure everyone was having fun, and ensured each person got home safely – all while staying tucked away at a nearby table until you needed him, never putting too much pressure on you. 

It had pissed you off the first time he had suggested it, but after he showed you what he meant, showed you how he could be supportive in the shadows while still letting you shine, you had slowly given in. Part of you loved being able to enjoy yourself with your friends while knowing he was always looking out, even if he wasn’t directly visible. 

“Maybe he’s busy.”

Twin glares pinned you to your seat, and you allowed several beats of the bass blaring in the speakers to pass before caving. 

“Okay, fine, yes. We’re having a slight disagreement,” you conceded with a sniff, “over something that happened at work.”

“Wait a minute - is this about what happened with Vanda?” Kat questioned, mentioning the newest server at the lounge. She had only started a few weeks prior, but had been making a lot of work for you - constantly acting like she knew what she was doing in front of management, only to flounder and follow you and the senior staff around asking a million questions the minute they weren’t on the floor. 

It wasn’t her confidence in her lacking serving skills that had bothered you, not really. It was more so how the minute she did get called out on a mistake, she was quick to try to throw you and your friends - the same people who had just been helping her ass - under the bus. 

You had told Changkyun about an incident earlier in the week of this exact scenario – she was flirting with another customer instead of checking on the tables in her section, and a patron of hers ended up getting up to go to the bar to order a drink. It wouldn’t have been a huge deal, mistakes happen after all, except she had immediately told the manager on duty that you had promised to cover that table. Which was news to you.

“Are you serious? After all the help you’ve given her?” Changkyun had shook his head, irritation evident in his voice. “Did you tell the manager the truth? Who was on?”

You had smothered a smile at the question, trying and failing to hide how much you loved him wanting to know more about your life. 

“It was Amy, and yeah, I told her. She believed me, but still. I don’t get it, I’ve never done anything to that girl.”

“Want me to show up to Yvonne’s and request her section with the guys, give her some shit? You know how annoying I can be when I want to,” he offered, brows raised in a teasing lilt, but you could tell by the line of his mouth that he meant it. 

“Yes, I do know how truly annoying you can be. It’s almost like a super power.”

He grinned then, a full one, and you wanted to kiss his stupid mouth. 

“But no, it’s fine. I got this. I know how to handle people like this, and having anyone else fight the battle for me will only make her more bold about it.” This wasn’t your first rodeo, after all - you had been serving a long time, and doing luxury serving at Yvonne’s for even longer than Vanda had been out of diapers. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was handle people. 

But did Changkyun listen to you?

Well no, of course not. 

He did exactly as he had threatened - showed up the following day with his full group of rowdy friends, sitting in her section and dedicated to being the most obnoxious people Vanda dealt with all night. They didn’t do anything harassing or illegal, just toed the line of being pretentious drunk pricks gambling and drinking – sending back drinks for being made incorrectly, asking for complicated cocktails and shots, requesting a rundown of the entire menu before telling her they were no longer hungry.

Kat and Bri had found it hilarious, stating that your boyfriend’s malicious compliance of the rules while still making Vanda run around so much she was pouring sweat was truly an artform. And there was a tiny piece of you, deep in your soul, that was pleased at the lengths he was willing to go for you. 

But you were also pissed, because you had been exactly right. It did nothing to stop Vanda from sending bullshit your way; if anything, it had spurred her on, the following shift of yours even more annoying and mind numbing after hours of her questions and subtle sabotage.  

“Yes, it’s about what happened with Vanda! I told him to let me handle it, and he didn’t listen. I know he meant well, I get that, but still. He didn’t listen.” You had known his heart was in the right place - you hadn’t questioned that. But it didn’t negate the fact that it made you feel so small when he didn’t listen to your requests. 

“I thought that was hilarious,” Bri said, arm reaching out for another shot glass. She had one already prepped in front of her, but preferred taking her shots two at a time. “But I get it. Vanda’s been worse since.”

“I can handle Vanda, I don’t really care about that. But it feels like our fights are usually because he just doesn’t listen to what I’m telling him. It’s like he thinks he knows better than me.” 

Deep down, you know he didn’t mean it in this way, but it was like he didn’t trust you - your judgment, your read on the situation, whatever it is – and that hurt, especially when you had worked so hard to open up that piece of yourself to him. 

“And I know that I’m not always right, and it’s not like I don’t want to hear his opinions, but I don’t like the choice being taken from me. Or worse, dangled in front of me like he’s going to consider my feelings, only to have him do whatever.” 

Downing her two shots in rapid succession, Bri shook her head, reaching for her chaser before speaking. “I think that’s part of the problem, he thinks he is considering your feelings. He thinks he’s standing up for you and fighting for you. He thinks he’s taking some of that burden off your plate.” 

“I don’t need, I mean, I don’t-”

“When is the last time you let anyone fight a battle for you?” Kat interrupted, elbows leaning on the table to make direct eye contact with you. “You tell everyone that you got it, that you can handle it. And we’ve seen you do it, so it’s not that we don’t believe you. But sometimes, we want to help you, for no other reason than we love you. And we can.” 

The direct read into your defenses had your throat tightening, and you blinked back the tears that threatened to form and ruin your makeup. 

“He should listen and take your feelings into consideration, absolutely,” Kat continued, voice gentle, “but also, you should let him support you and help more. I think if you let him be there for you in smaller ways, he wouldn’t feel the need to be the knight in shining armor so much.” 

There was a lot of wisdom in your friend's words, and you had taken a moment of silence to chew on it, to let it sink in. 

“He really loves you, you know that, right? So stop being a dumb bitch about it,” Bri deadpanned, but her expression was soft, “and let him love you. And you know I say that with affection.”

“I know,” you said, nodding at your friends. As much as it wasn’t easy to admit, they had a point, which also meant that maybe Changkyun did, as well. “Thank you both, seriously.” 

It had only taken one text message, a quick “This tab isn’t going to pay itself” with a kissing emoji to have him showing up at the bar, settling into a table a few down from your own with a wink and a sly smirk, where he proceeded to wait out the evening, taking care of you and your friends as always when the time came. 

“I’m still annoyed with you,” you had panted against his mouth when you got home, letting him push you up against the wall and cage you in with his arms. He was on you like a starved man, and it had made your buzz intensify, making you drunk on him, his kiss. 

“Of course, I understand,” he mumbled, words barely intelligible in the urgency of his lips. 

You had to fight to pull away, using one hand on the base of his throat to push him back for a moment to catch your breath. 

“But, also, thank you. For what you did with Vanda. And for always wanting to protect me.”

If Changkyun noticed how soft your voice got, he didn’t say anything, instead leaning down to press his forehead against yours. You could tell he was going to say something – probably something devastatingly sweet – and you needed to finish what you were going to say, before the bravery lost you. 

“I’m not used to having someone who wants to fight with me, or for me, you know.” 

“I know,” he replied in a rush, like he had already known your confession, knew what you were going to say long before the words had formed.  “I know, and I also shouldn’t be an ass and push all the time. But I will always protect you, yeah?” 

Nodding, you fought back tears for the second time that evening, but this time you didn’t shy away from letting him see the emotion in your face. 

“You’re mine, and I will always fight for you, sweetheart.” 

This time when he kissed you, it was slow, purposeful, heated. Like he was going to  make sure you felt and wanted for nothing other than him, his touch, and that you could allow yourself to fall into him forever and would always have a safe place to land. 

Maybe it wasn’t so bad, to be vulnerable with someone, to let them in, if you could feel like this. 

Or maybe it wasn’t so bad, only because it was Changkyun. 

Tonight was the night, and everything was in place.

So why did Changkyun feel a ball of anxiety forming in the base of his gut?

Everything had been going according to the plan so far, not that there was much of a plan for any of this. It mostly relied on you and your friends being away from Yvonne’s for the night, which was easy enough since you were all off on the same evening. A rarity that you all were going to take advantage of, and had planned for movie night with drinks and sushi take out over at Kat’s place, an event that was common enough that Changkyun knew it usually ended in a sleepover. 

He had dropped you off an hour prior, kissing you gently and shouting a greeting down the hall to the girls before heading back to the car, ignoring the feeling of guilt roiling in his stomach. He had just kept reminding himself that he was doing this for you, doing this so he could support you and give you the life that you deserved. 

It was one last time, one last game. 

But that pit didn’t dissipate as the evening went on, not even when he met with Joohoney who had insisted he take a shot when they arrived at Yvonne’s to help with his nerves. It had burned his esophagus, blurring the edges of his tension a bit, enough that he felt confident walking through the lounge next to his friend.. 

“You good?” Joohoney asked, slapping a hand on his shoulder. 

Changkyun nodded. “Yeah, just really wanna win some money, you know?” 

Joohoney had given him an understanding grin before guiding him past the tables in the lower section of Yvonne’s towards the stairs leading up to the high roller tables. 

“It's our lucky night, Kyun,” Joohoney said, pausing in front of the door leading to where the game was about to begin. Through the heavily frosted glass, Changkyun could see several bodies already seated at the few VIP tables, and he felt his pulse spike.  “We’re going to win.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The sleepover at Kat’s had been just the reset you needed. 

A night of screaming at the television, drinking cocktails and eating your bodyweight in sushi with your friends was healing in more ways than one, and you had left the next morning feeling lighter and more content than you remembered in a while. 

 It was surprising to find your apartment dark and quiet when you returned, as you had assumed Changkyun would be there waiting for you, like he always was. You had given him a key long ago, figuring there was no point in pretending like he didn’t spend all of his free time glued to your side, but not fully ready to give up the independence of living alone quite yet. 

Sending him a quick text, you let him know that you’re home and about to catch up on sleep before your shift later. He replies quickly that he had fallen asleep at his place after a late night with Joohoney, but that he would be there once you got off work. 

Nothing had felt out of the ordinary, and you felt energized enough from your nap to get ready quickly, getting to work much earlier than you normally would for a shift.

You should’ve known something was up the minute you walked into work and saw that Vanda had a shit eating grin on her face.

She kept sneaking side glances, watching you with a scrutiny that made you uneasy. She’s normally more obvious in her attempts to annoy you, and her passive aggressiveness is setting your teeth on edge. 

After the third glare and giggle on your way to drop off more drinks, you decide you’re going to confront her and ask her what her deal is, when she beats you to it.

“Did you have fun last night?” Vanda questions, a stupid smirk on her face. 

“Why do you care?”

“Seemed like Changkyun did,” she continued, like you hadn’t asked a question. Your stomach dropped.

Raising a brow, you wait for her to go on, not wanting to give her any more satisfaction. She clearly knew something that you didn’t, and she was already well aware of that fact. 

“How much did he actually end up winning last night? I mean, him and Joohoney were upstairs until last call, and he seemed pretty happy when he left.”

Instantly, your throat tightens, unease now unfurled into full blown anxiety. He was here last night? If he was here last night, and with Joohoney upstairs, no less…

“I didn’t manage to hear how much he won, just that Changkyun shouldn’t worry, because you would never find out.”

It was enough. You had heard enough. 

It was surprising how quickly you switched into autopilot, spinning on your heel and striding out of the room before your throat tightens, before your vision fully blurs. Vanda says something more behind you, a lilt of concern in her voice, but you can’t hear her, not anymore. 

 Your mind quiets as your body takes control, moving you to find your manager to tell her that you need to leave, before grabbing your purse and coat, and leaving the lounge. Turning towards your apartment, your rage fuels your step, gut churning with the betrayal of knowing the only reason why Changkyun would be upstairs at Yvonne’s last night, why he would be leaving looking so pleased with himself. 

The wind bit at your face, chapping your lips,  but you didn’t care; needing the night air in your lungs and for the anger to be burned out in your movement before seeing him. 

Because once you walked out your anger and faced the betrayal, you would need to deal with the deep seated fear for Changkyun’s safety, and how the hell you would be able to protect him now. 

Changkyun wasn’t expecting you so early when you barged into the apartment, and the mix of confusion and excitement quickly bled away once he saw the look on your face. 

He strides towards you, grabbing your shoulders, concern knitting his brow. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

Blinking, you allow yourself a moment to stare at him, to drink in his full mouth and stupid handsome face, before you swallow around the knot in your throat. 

“Tell me it isn’t true, Changkyun.” 

You hate how your voice sounds; weak and strained and like you’re just bone deep tired, defeated. Maybe you are. 

“What are you talk-”

“Tell me that you weren’t upstairs at Yvonne’s last night,” you sigh, irritated with the ruse. “Tell me that you didn’t go and do the exact thing that you promised me you wouldn’t, and that I didn’t have to find out from fucking Vanda, of all people.”

Pulling away, you slide from his grasp, tucking your arms around your middle so that you wouldn’t be tempted to reach back out for him. It was tortuous, how much you want to reach for him, even when your heart is breaking. 

“Sweetheart, I just- it was just going to be one last time, one last game. The pot was too good, it was enough to get you set up, so you could quit,” he lets the sentence hang, almost waiting for you to interrupt, but when you stay silent, he continues. “Joohoney made sure everything was good, and we won just enough to get what we needed, not enough to rock too many boats. I had it under control.” 

Closing your eyes, you let the last sentence settle around your shoulders like a heavy weight, the same old feelings bubbling up. “It wasn’t about you being in control or not, Changkyun. It was about listening to me, actually listening to me. You promised.”

It was on the last word that you broke, that the tears started to fall, and for once you didn’t turn away, wanting him to see. 

“You promised me you would stay away, and then you didn’t. You hid it. You thought you knew what was best for me, instead of just listening to me.” 

Pain laces Changkyun’s face as he takes a step towards you, only pausing when you take an equal step backwards. “I’m so sorry, I don’t think I know better, I just-”

“Please leave. I’m done.” Your voice is low but measured, certain. 

“Baby, please, let me just explain, and- and-”

“I don’t want to hear an explanation. I want you to leave.” Tears continue to fall, but you don’t drop his stare, willing him to understand just how serious this all is, how serious you are. 

He wants to fight it, wants to say more, but something in your eyes must convince him, because he keeps his mouth shut. Instead, he moves back to the couch, grabbing his coat and phone, before making his way to the door. His gaze is mournful as he gives you one last look, lingering, before shutting the door behind him. 

You aren’t sure how long you stand there, unmoving, before the autopilot kicks back into gear, forcing your limbs to move. Heading towards your room, you place your phone on the charger before you curl into your bed, surrounding yourself with the blankets and the lingering scent of Changkyun. 

And then you let yourself break down. 

Changkyun was drunk. Too drunk. 

He shouldn’t have taken that last shot, especially not after that last drink from the bar. It was too much, but fuck it. Who cares?

“I’m not sure what I’m doing,” he mumbles to himself, not caring how crazy he looks. He wishes someone would just give him some direction, tell him what he would need to do in order to fix this. 

He didn’t listen. He never listens. 

And now he’s lost the only good thing he’s ever fucking had, the only reason he got up each morning and what’s the point, if you’re gone? 

Fuck. Fuck. 

Sliding down low in the booth, he lets his head hang, the whisky glass precariously dangling in his hand. His body felt so heavy, so numb, and yet the anguish deep in his chest only worsened, throbbed along to music blaring in the club. 

If only he could apologize, he’d beg for mercy, he’d promise he’d never fuck up like this ever again. Explain how you were right - how he doesn’t need the money, or any of that shit, as long as he had you. 

He needs you.

His heart is in a vice grip, squeezing so tightly that he thinks he might explode from his body, his skin, until he’s nothing but red.

Pain suddenly licks up Changkyun’s palm, and he looks down to see the glass cup gone. In its place are thousands of tiny shards, twinkling in the dim club lights, reflecting everything back to him. More red, but this time welling in his palm, pooling in the deep lines of the skin. 

“What the fuck, are you alright dude?” 

Changkyun thinks it’s Joohoney who asks him, or maybe it’s Hyungwon? It doesn’t matter either way, because it’s not you.  

He goes to stand, to ask for a bandage or a rag or something, but instead his vision blurs, the room spinning. And then he’s flat on his back, blinking up at the cacophony of lights, faces coming in and out of focus, but not the one he needs, not the one he’s looking for. 

He can faintly hear his friends talking to him, feel them digging in his pockets for his phone, but he can’t be present anymore. It’s too torturous, too heavy. Much easier to close his eyes, to think about your face. To let himself get lost forever. 

He’s happy to die here on the floor of this stupid club, imagining your smile, your laugh, your lips as you say his name.

Changkyun just wants to take care of you, just wants to give you everything that you deserve. How can he do that if he’s here? If he can’t listen? 

He lets the darkness swallow him.

Changkyun isn’t sure where he is. 

He feels like he got hit by a truck, his head specifically feeling like it had been trampled on, though it’s his right palm that's aching in time to his pulse. 

Without moving, he opens his eyes slowly, trying to take in his surroundings. It’s dark, wherever he is, and his head is propped on a pillow, body stretched out on a couch. He can see a small trash can directly in front of him, as if whomever brought him here wasn’t sure if he’d be capable of finding a bathroom if the contents of his stomach decided to make a reappearance, and he groans.

Fingers swipe through his hair, easing the pounding in his skull by a fraction.

“Hi, sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Changkyun thinks he has to still be sleeping, must be having a very good dream if it’s your voice he’s hearing, your scent he’s inhaling as he settles onto the pillow. He smiles to himself, not wanting to speak and having the dream fade too soon. 

“Changkyun? Are you going to answer me?” This time, you peer over him, leaning down to stroke his face. You let your fingers linger briefly on his cheekbone before lightly touching his lips.

His eyes snap open. 

“Is this real?” He asks, voice hoarse, gaze searching your own. He doesn’t feel strong enough to sit up quite yet, but you don’t seem to want to make him, either. “Are you really here?”

“Technically, you’re here at my place, but yes, it’s real.” You reply, your nails sliding back up to his hair to give his scalp a soothing scratch.

He swallows as he stares at you, as he drinks in the tenderness in your eyes that he thought he wouldn’t get a chance to see again. It took him a moment before he recognized your apartment in the dim light, and another more before realizing the pillow he’s laying on is settled in your lap. 

Even knowing that this was real, that you truly let him back in, he was still too scared to speak, not wanting to scare you off. Not wanting the moment to end. 

When he finally gathered enough courage, he cleared his throat.

“I’m so, so fucking sorry, sweetheart. You’re right. I don’t listen. I hear what you say, and then just act like an ass who thinks he knows everything.” Changkyun swallows thickly. “The only thing I do know is that you’re my everything. You’re all I need. Please, don’t give up on me yet.”

His pleas make your eyes well, and you force yourself to take an even inhale before speaking. 

You want to tell him that you couldn’t give him up, that you had tried because you knew it would be easier in the long run, but your heart wouldn’t allow it. You want to say that you had regretted telling him to leave the moment the words left your lips, that you hadn’t meant them. You want to say that you were just so tired of not being heard, of people making decisions for you.

Instead, you roll your eyes playfully. “Now why would I do that, after all the trouble I went through to patch up your hand while you were black out?”

You will tell him those things, but later. When the sting of last night had faded a bit from both of your memories, and the impact intended can land. 

He gives you a small grin, meeting your gaze. His hand - the bandaged one - raises slowly, tentatively, until it’s cupping your cheek.

“I just wanted to give you the world,” Changkyun murmurs, almost reverently. “I will give you the world, the right way. It might take me longer, but I will.”

His words soften you more, and you reach for his other hand, pulling him up until he’s facing you. He’s slow to move, the onset of a hangover taking hold, but eventually he settles sitting upright, eyes still intense on your own. 

He  is always trying to take care of you, trying to lessen your burdens. You know you’re not the best at accepting the help, but dammit, you were trying. For him. And he was trying for you, too. 

You lean forward until your foreheads are touching, breaths mingling. 

“I already have it, stupid.”

He kisses you then, a gentle press of lips that quickly builds, as everything always does with him. A push and a pull. Changkyun leans away slightly,  grins against your mouth. “I’m an idiot, but you already knew that.”

“You’re my idiot. The rest is just noise.”

[nekropsii]

hello!I have a question about your alpha troll iceberg.

When did kurloz sexually assault meulin?I cannot find the source for it on my own.

I’m also a little skeptical since:

1.kurloz feels some form of guilt for deafening meulin.Not as much guilt as he shows,considering how he technically breaks his oath of silence by using his purpleblood magic

2.he isn’t openly sexual other than getting the codpiece,which I view as him following any orders from gamzee and/or lord English.And also his game sprite may have a bulge to it?im not sure about my second point

3.i don’t know why he would do that because he doesn’t abuse meulin that way.In openbound 2,he treats meulin more as an easy pawn to assist him in his malicious plans to help lord english & gamzee rather than sexually assaulting her to ruin her and then manipulating her.

I’m really curious to know when this happened,since it would reframe his already atrocious actions as even worse

Also I have a bias since I have a weird attachment to kurloz for no canon compliant reason.

Hopefully this isn’t too long…it probably is but I hope 8]

I applaud the thoroughness, actually, and thank you for reaching out. I love when people ask me to Cite My Sources, so to speak.

It's in one of the Signing portions of their interactions, so I do not necessarily blame you for missing it.

This is clearly non-consensual touching that is being framed as Upsetting on Meulin's end and Deliberately Creepy on Kurloz's.

I'm not really sure how I feel about it. Well, I feel bad about it, obviously, assault is literally always bad, but I really cannot decipher Kurloz as a character. Not fully, really, 'cuz he doesn't have much of one. To me, this reads as a pure, unadulterated Makara Moment, and I'm frankly just kind of tired of it. Kurloz's character is just a nebulous haze of Plot Instigation and Racism. Gamzee's character is also just a nebulous haze of Plot Instigation and Racism. These are both characters who are coded as Black, who are portrayed as being very dominating, abusive, and physically + sexually violent - especially Gamzee. Kurloz doing this is weird, but it's not... Shocking, I guess.

His relationship with Meulin is absolutely, uh... Troubled... To put it nicely... What, with him manipulating her into a cult and mind controlling her into doing his bidding all the time, on top of this assault, the Bullshit Clown Magic having the side effects of Confusion, Brain Fog, and Memory Loss, and her still seeming to have some kind of suppressed attraction to him... It's complicated. I think it could be genuinely very fascinating to explore, if one has the stomach for it. And a deft enough hand... And is capable of handling it all with maximum sensitivity. It's verging on something really good... But it falls kind of flat, and it's fucking exhausting that we're having this same damn conversation with another fucking Makara.

This could be done extremely well. There's some genuinely solid grounds here for exploring a very complex, very visceral abusive relationship, kind of like what was going on with Gamzee and Terezi, but... There was both just not enough time to set that up fully, and also I am so tired of Makaras being Like That.

I wish I could say this was surprising. I really do. It's not, though. It's like... On par with Gamzee being kind of a Necrophile. I just have to sigh and throw my hands up and accept it. Like, god dammit, okay, I guess we're doing this today! Sure! Whatever! Fuck my life.

[hypnoneghoul]

So I had a thought, and your writing would capture this best in my opinion: Phantom coming back to the abbey, finding Aether, and proceeds to have the most Ghoultism conversation about his first tour and what he experienced. And he’s such a little cutie that he doesn’t stop him.

im sorry it took me ages whaaaaa :(

but im here! and thank you for considering me the best man for the job, hope i don't dissapoint hahahah

some ghautistic phantom rambles under the cut :)

Aether didn't exactly know what saying 'tell me everything' to Phantom would mean for him. He didn't expect him to literally tell him everything. He did feel a bit like complaining, at first, he had better things to do. Not to say he didn't absolutely adore Phantom or that he was ignorant or selfish. Not at all, quite the opposite. Aether just really had a lot of work.

But Phantom was so adorable, he was so excited to tell the older ghoul all the stories from tour. Aether couldn't just stop him, could he?

"People were throwing us so many plushies, there's so many on the bus and everyone has some for themselves and I even got a few bats!" Phantom ranted so fast he was nearly out of breath. "I love bats so much, Aether, how did they even know!?"

"I have no idea, kid, but I'm happy you got some gifts from the fans," he chuckled. Phantom was too adorable for his own good.

"They know our names too! And they gave us so many different things, a lot of bracelets with our names, flowers and I even got a letter! A LETTER, Aeth, just for me!" he beamed.

"I saw you also got some flags thrown onto the stage, yeah?" Aether prompted. He should've probably bite his tongue if he wanted to leave the common room in the next 24 hours but Phantom was just too cute.

"YEAH! There were those rainbow ones and the other colorful one, you taught me about them when I was first summoned. The colorful one is for the whole community some humans are in, right? When they don't really fuck with everyone, just specific people?"

"Something like that," Aether giggled. It was one way to put it, especially with how Phantom perceived things Topside.

"The other one was the blue, white and pink and I think that's the one people use when their junk doesn't match their head? Like Dew and Sunny, they'd be them too if they were humans, yeah?"

"Yes, kid, it's called being transgender, for humans."

"Yes! People were so happy when we picked them up, Swiss too, I think it meant a lot to them. I think a lot of our fans are colorful humans, don't you think?" Phantom asked and actually paused for a second. Not a rhetorical question, then.

"I don't just think so, I know it. I used to check the internet a lot, the thing on your phone that you don't like. They say a lot of nice stuff about us all there, and yes, a lot of them are colorful, as you called it."

"'m happy I could make them feel... seen, then, you know? Swiss told me once their lives aren't really easy. That's sad," he pouted as he picked on a loose thread on his pant leg.

"That's true. But there's no reason for you to get sad now, kid. Tell me more, what else happened?" Phantom was not only a cutie, he was also really sensitive and Aether would much rather spend hours listening to his excited rambles than his sobbing.

"Oh, we visited so many fun places! The girls took a lot of pictures, they should show you! World is so big and there's so many different things in it, it was so exciting, Aether!"

"Oh, believe me, I know. Terzo loved travelling, when we toured with him there was no way to sneak out of a mandatory sightseeing in every city we got to. It was more tiring than playing itself. Mountain always ended up with Dew half asleep on his back on our way back to the hotel or a bus," it was true, the only thing that could've saved them from Terzo's traveling hunger was him himself being dead exhausted. Didn't happen often.

"Must've been fun! But yeah all of that was really tiring, we all napped when we could, even if for a moment. It's good you taught me all the basics of quintessence, I was helping everyone with their pains and when Dew couldn't sleep!"

"I'm proud of you, kid. I'm glad you liked touring and had so much fun," Aether sighed. He really was, even if he missed it already himself.

"Oh, and one time..."

[wandas-lovey]

I’m being delulu so i started wondering (¡again!) what life with five would be post-season 3. But like…he’s a teacher in this…

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

* after all his siblings left when Reggie reset the universe you’re left with a mopey five

* you’re both pretty sad the first couple of days having just lost the people you love most :(

* but we don’t have time to be sad we need to get jobs!!!

* im gaslighting myself into believing that five and you have a place to stay the first night in the new timeline instead of being homeless 💀

* five becomes a teacher in the new timeline and you can’t convince me otherwise

* and what do you know!! you become a teacher too :D

* five would definitely teach math while you’d teach history (cuz you traveled through time when working with the commission, idk just go with it)

* while your classes may be a bit hard for the students you two are definitely the schools favorite teachers!!

* i mean why wouldn’t you be? the students can’t get enough of the two mysterious young teachers who showed up out of nowhere in the middle of the school year….

* you two definitelyyyy didn’t threaten the previous math and history teachers to quit their jobs or else they’d be dead by nightfall

* I just know many students are crushing on you BOTH. have you seen yourself lately? You look great ;)

* you both find it funny tho cuz they believe they’re crushing on teachers who are in their early 20s when it’s actually two 50 year olds in their younger bodies

* you two wouldn’t be the type to eat lunch with the rest of the faculty. you’d eat together in each other’s classroom enjoying your time together even if it’s for a short time

* five’s the type of boyfriend/teacher who interrupts your class for the dumbest reasons just cuz he wants to see you :,)

“can i borrow your stapler for a minute?”

“i’m in the middle of class right now”

“Yes I’m aware but i need to finish stapling the students review packets”

“you bought a stapler yesterday…”

“yeah but yours works better”

“OUT!!!”

*your students definitely find it cute :)

* after witnessing playful banter between the teachers that was a little too ~flirtatious~ the students get suspicious of what’s actually going on between their math and history teacher

* “are-are you and mr.hargreeves together..?”

* up until this point neither of you have confirmed to your students what your relationship was with each other

“unfortunately we are” you say with a smile on your face

*after confirming your relationship that day, your students spent the rest of the class asking you all types of questions about your relationship

“how did you and mr.hargreeves meet??”

“how long have you been together?”

“did you ask him out first or did he ask you?”

“why did you wait this long to tell us??”

*when your classes switch out and head to their next class with mr.hargreeves they try and pester him too about your relationship

“why aren’t you married yet?!?”

“ oh wow. i didn’t realize that was any of your business”

* you two are the kind of teachers to always be chosen to be chaperones for school dances.

*five definitely complains the entire night about being tired and wanting to go home

*who could blame him. watching over teenagers for hours making sure no one’s bumping uglies is exhausting

“how much longer till we can leave? This music’s awful. I’d rather throw myself off a building than be here.”

“Five…we just got here”

“What’s your point?”

*after a long night of watching over whore-knee kids, you head home ending the night with curling up on the couch and falling asleep in each other’s arms while The Breakfast Club plays in the background

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

i have no clue how to fucking end this 💀

also this shit ain’t proofread

[ohtobeleah]

Im crying, screaming, throwing up. Leah, you’re putting your whole ass pussy into these updates. I can’t wait for the next update.

Bro. The way I literally spent six hours writing this yesterday. Six! I couldn’t stop. I just had to get it out. Anyway, as always—here’s the Terms Of Endearment Masterlist

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Dot was a smart little girl. She knows when things aren't right. She knows when Bob pulls up in a driveway that isn't Jakes that something is wrong. With her little heart already broken enough from her traumatic pick up from daycare, but when she sees a woman standing out on the front veranda that isn't you, her bottom lip quivers. Where were you?

“Where's Mamma?” Dot asked as she came to from her nap in her booster seat, Bob felt his heart break inside his chest because how do you tell a two year old that their mother is in the hospital? 

“Mama’s gonna be back soon Dotty.” God Bob couldn't handle all this, he had no idea how you did it for so long without crying out for help. “Thanks for taking her on such short notice.” Bob is far too rattled for Chelsea Fitch to be comfortable with. “Jakes probably harassing the emergency department staff as we speak trying to get answers and Rooster was already there so–” 

“She's more than welcome for as long as needed.” Chelsea makes her way down the drive to where Bob is fishing Dot out of her booster seat. “She looks so upset–” Chelsea sighs. “Hi darling girl, it's okay baby come here.” With one swift motion, Bob was picking up the little girl everyone had gathered around to protect and handing her over to Reubans wife. Dot immediately snuggled into her shoulder, she's so tired and emotionally exhausted. There's only so much a two year old can take before they begin to shut down. “You know much about how she's doing?” 

“Nope, Jake fainted in the parking lot when he was on the phone with Rooster.” Bob relayed all that he knew as he unclipped the booster seats from the back of Penny's car to leave at the Finch household. “I didn't get a chance to ask much when I picked up the phone, just told Rooster we’d get there as soon as possible.”

“And by we you mean Amilia–” Bob just smiled, he caught the tone Chelsea used as she held Dot on her hip. Standing in the driveway as Chase clung to her leg. Bob Floyd loved the fact he wasn't the only one with a sibling he wasn't overly attached to. 

“Yes ma’am–” 

“Don't ma’am me Bob, I work for a living.” Bob couldn't keep his head from spinning on top of his shoulders if he tried. He couldn't keep up with the sharp wit and dry humour of the Australians he was suddenly in close vicinity to. 

“Sorry, sorry–force of habit.” Bob knew he should probably head over to Jakes and get some essentials sorted. It hadn't necessarily been a task bestowed upon him verbally, but Bob knew that he should, to do what he could within his means. “I'm gonna head off, I'll swing by Jakes and get some of Dot's things, stop by, then head over to the hospital.” 

“Can you tell my sister that for someone who's been in the states for less than three days on a soul searching quest or whatever bullshit she's on, she sure has a knack for finding trouble.” Chelsea chuckled as Bob just pressed his lips together in a thin line and nodded silently. “Come on bub’s let's get you two inside.” 

“Thanks again Chels–” Bob thanked Chelsea just one more time before he was heading off, leaving Odette Dolan in the Fitch’s capable hands while everything else seemed to fall through the cracks. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“You feeling alright?” Amilia asked as she drove Jake in silence to the hospital. There wasn’t any music playing through the speakers this time. Just pure silence filled the cab of her sister’s Sante Fe. 

“I’m sorry you got caught up in all this.” Jake swerved the question Amilia had asked as he turned to take in Amilias profile. Fuck she was real pretty. “It was incredibly unfair of me to ask you to get involved.” 

“Your niece is a real cutie.” Amilia, still focusing on the road ahead, smiled as she flicked on her indicator, turning into the Miramar Base Hospital. “I don’t think I would’ve been able to live with myself if I didn’t do something.” 

“Yeah—“ Jake sighed, letting his head fall back against the headrest. “It definitely feels like that.” 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have your sister and her ex been separated?” Jake just looked at Amilia, who for a split second turned her head to look back at Jake. “I don’t mean to pry.” Jake took notice to the way Amilias voice sounded softer in her regret to ask. “And by all means man you don’t have to tell me shit—just tell me to shut up and my lips are sealed.” Jake couldn’t handle the way Amilia turned her head back to the road ahead, she was so genuinely concerned about what was going on to people she’d never met before. “I shouldn’t have asked, I’m sorry—it’s too personal.” 

“No, no you're good.” Jake cleared his throat, thinking about how to explain your circumstances. “Emotionally I’d say ever since the first time he laid his hands on her.” Jake remarked, balling his fist at the thought as he clenched his jaw. “But uh, she ran out on him a few months back, turned up on my doorstep beaten half to death with enough alcohol in her system that I would have believed her if she said she identified as a distillery.” Jake chuckled, it hurt to make peace with the fact this had been your life, your rock bottom. “I promised her if she stayed here then she’d be safe, that I wouldn’t let anyone hurt her yet here we are—“ Jake finally turned his head back to where Amilia sat in the driver's seat, looking for a park. “I don't know how to keep her safe.” 

Amilia didn’t respond straight away, the air was too heavy around her, she could feel the weight of Jake's world on her shoulders. No one deserved to feel that kind of guilt. It wasn’t his fault, what that Jaidyn guy had done wasn’t a reflection on Jake. He was only one person, how much could he honestly do? 

“The next dude that tries to kiss my fucking foreheads gonna cop a head-butt instead so we both end up hurt and confused.” Jake couldn’t help but to laugh softly as he looked at Amilia, this crazy, random woman he’d met that same morning felt like an extension of himself. Amilia had kissed him in the parking lot of his niece's day care not half an hour ago. Why had he not ended up copping a headbutt. He surely had a headache, but that was from smacking his head on the ground when he lost all control. 

“Can’t say that doesn’t sound like a good strategy—“ There’s a few moments of silence as Amilia gives up circling the full car park and just decides it’s probably best to drop Jake off at the emergency department. She hits the curb slightly and Jake cringes at the thought of the gutter rash her rims were gonna end up with. “Jesus—“ 

“Sorry.” It’s not hard to notice the embarrassment laced in Amilias tone as she puts the car in park. “I’m still getting used to the whole left side steering and right side roadway.” 

“How long have you been in the states for?” Jake asks, he’s reluctant to get out of the car because he knows the second he does he’s gonna lose his mind. Amilia Fisher seemed to keep Jake level headed. He needed that in all this, a guiding light. A lighthouse.

“Considering I’ve lost track of what day it is from the jet lag and copious amounts of caffeine I’ve been pumping I’d guest about three days, give or take a few hours.” 

“Three days and you're slashing people’s tyres!?” Jake genuinely laughs for the first time all day. He feels the butterflies in his stomach take flight when Amilia matches his energy and laughs with him, nodding. 

“I didn’t know what else to do!?” As the laughter drifted off into nothing, Amilia let herself settle into the back of her car seat. “You should probably get out now.” 

“I don’t think I can go in there.” Jake held back tears, he wasn’t ready to accept he’d let you down. “Can’t see her like that.” He wasn’t ready to face you. “I fucked up, I can’t—“ 

“Hey, listen.” Amilia cooed as Jake tried his best to hold himself together, he was falling apart at the seams. “Just breathe.” A gentle hand with manicured nails that make Jake's skin rise with goosebumps reaches out to cup his cheek. “She really needs you, but it’s okay to feel like you don’t have your shit together.” 

“You got anywhere to be?” Jake asked, it was his way of asking Amilia to stay. She just shook her head, she knew what he meant. 

“Been the longest fucking day ever and I could really use a beer, but I got absolutely nowhere else to be.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Bradley hated hospitals. He’d never been one to associate hospitals with good memories. It’s where he’d gone with his mum when he’d found out he’d died in a training accident and It was where he said goodbye to his mum one last time before she left to be with her best friend again. 

Now, as he sat in the waiting room tapping his foot on the ground impatiently waiting for someone, anyone to give him an update on how you were—he couldn’t help his mind from wondering. What if you were about to join the ever growing list of people Bradley Bradshaw had lost in his life? 

“Bradshaw!” Jake bellowed out as he came barreling through the front doors of the emergency department, Amilia in toe. “Where is she?” Rooster stood to meet Jake in an embrace that put all others to shame. Brother in arms. Jake wraps his arms around Bradley as Bradley took him in tight. Both silently silencing their painful sobs in each other's embrace. “Where is she?” 

“In surgery I think?” Rooster explained. “They wouldn’t tell me much because I still haven’t handed back the paperwork they asked me to fill out on her behalf.” It’s when Jake steps back that Bradley sees Amilia standing there. She’s a little on the short side, and by a little he means a lot. Respectfully Jake and Bradley tower over her. It wouldn’t be hard to lose her in a crowd. Amilia Fisher was definitely someone you’d tie a helium balloon to just to keep an eye on her. 

“Who’s this?” Bradley asks, he thinks he knows. She looks a little familiar. Jake just steps aside, allowing Amilia to outstretch her hand to shake Bradley’s. “God You look like someone I know—“

“Uh, Chelsea Fitch is my sister, you both apparently work with my brother in law.” It all clicks in Rooster's mind when he hears the mention of Payback's wife. “Amilia, Amilia Fisher.” 

“You’re the one who took the video this morning?” Bradley smirks, he can see the look on Jake’s face clear as day. The guys hooked. 

“That’s me.” Amilia confirms, Jakes just crossing his arms across his chest as Rooster sends him an all knowing look. He’d fallen in love at first sight with you, what was so hard to believe about the same happened to Jake Seresin. 

“She slashed Jaidyn’s tires too, made sure he couldn’t leave before Bob and I got there.” Jake mentioned and Bradley just raised his eyebrows in shock. 

“No shit?” 

“Bob took Odette to Paybacks place, he called me while I was on my way over—said he wouldn’t be too far away? Cyclone called off training for the rest of the week and sent everyone home.” Jake mumbled as he yawned, stretching his back out as he did so. 

“Yeah he said something about not being able to have people flying multi million dollar fighter jets around while there’s an internal investigation going on.” Bradley sighed. He was exhausted. “Where’s Jaidyn now?” 

“On his way to the station, I called the cops—they took him off in cuffs at the daycare.” Amilia explained as she looked around. “This a Military Hospital or General Public?” Bradley just looked at Jake who shrugged his shoulders back at him. Both men decided they needed to take a seat. Sitting side by side as Bradley handed Jake the half filled in paperwork. 

“How bad is it?” Jake asked under his breath. Bradley just pressed his lips together, he knew Jake had taken notice of the blood that stained Bradley’s hands and uniform. He knew what the answer was already. He just needed to hear Rooster say it. 

“Medic said her jaw was broken before we even got here, he must have really laid into her because I could hardly recognise her.” It absolutely killed Bradley to relay this information, he could see from the expression on Jake’s face alone that it killed him to know. But they needed to share each other’s heartbreak to get through this. “She’s tough though, never stopped fighting back—“ 

“We let her down.” Jake stated as a matter of fact. He was pissed at Jaidyn for everything he’d done to you but more importantly he was pissed at himself for allowing him to get close enough to her you. 

“I know.” Braldey swallowed the lump in his throat as Jake filled in everything he knew about you from a lifetime of friendship. It didn’t seem like enough though as he sat there, looking around to see if anyone was coming to update them. “I know we did.” 

Amilia opted to shout the two naval aviators who looked far too out of place a packet of chips from the vending machine. She knew well enough that they weren’t hungry, but they needed something in their system. Handing over the packet of chips, one each as she looked down at Bradley and Jake, gesturing for them to take the bags of air. 

“My favourite is cheese and onion but I can’t speak for Lays, wouldn’t know what’s good or bad here so I thought I’d play it safe with the original.” 

Jake just took Amilia in for all she was worth, Bradley could practically see the heart eyes he was sending over as he grazed Amilias outstretched hand and took the packet of chips. 

“Thanks—“ Jake cooed as Amilia came to sit beside him. Bradley hummed to himself when she opened her own packet, offering Jake a few from her packet in the hopes he’d share his with her in return. 

He did. 

Bradley couldn't help but to smile, Jake deserved to fall in love. He deserved someone who was as willing, kind, and above all as annoying as he was. Amilia Fisher gave off that vibe.

He just wished you were here to witness it too. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Admiral Beau Simpson had never felt more like a failure than he did in the moments he sat behind his desk recording on a blank disc the seven minute assault that had left you dangerously close to death. He had never seen such a violent act against a woman. But what else he saw amongst the beating was bravery—

“I need someone to contact the local authorities, this guy is an animal.” Cyclone explained as he tried to peel his eyes away from the monitor, but he couldn’t. He knew he owed it to you to sit there and watch what he’d let happen by not stepping in sooner. “Why are you still here?” 

“Sorry sir.” One of the administrators that Cyclone had called into his office babbled out as he ran to make sure that the request of the admiral would be conducted. Almost as soon as he had left, Pete Mitchell was stepping into his office, wearing a confused expression. 

Like this day couldn’t get any fucking worse for Beau Simpson. 

“Why have you suspended all training until further notice and sent my team home?” Maverick asked, leaning over Cyclone's desk. “What’s going on—“

“You need to get down to the Base Hospital, Lieutenant Bradshaw is there with Y/n.” Cyclone could barely stomach enough courage to say what he needed to say. He made himself sick. “Allocations were made, they were dismissed when they should have been properly adhered to.” He sighed in disapproval of his own actions. Leaning back in his chair as he looked at the man who was in all aspects a better man than he was in the moment. “Felix was taken to hospital about two hours ago and I’ve opened an internal investigation into the situation. Your team is grounded until further notice, Captain.” Pete frowned as he took in what Admiral Simpson had just told him. He had been wondering where Rooster was, where Hangman had gone off to and why Bob was suddenly missing in action. 

He paused for a moment, wondering if what his initial thought was truly what had been the case. 

“Her ex got to her did he?” Maverick pressed his lips together as Cyclone begrudgingly nodded in conformation. “I told you when I found out he first got reposted that something would happen if you didn’t keep an eagle eye on that son of a bitch, didn’t I?” 

It was true. When Jaidyn had first showed up in North Island, Jake had asked if Mav could possibly pull some strings. He tried to warn Admiral Simpson what would happen, but his predictions fell on deaf ears. Maverick couldn’t tell at the time if Cyclone just didn’t want to know, was too self centred to get involved or if he just didn’t care enough about his personnel to do anything about it. 

“The only reason he took up this posting, Sir, was to get at her—I told you that and what did you do?”

Cyclone just closed his eyes—He knew what he had done. Nothing. If anyone had failed you it was Beau Simpson. “You told me to fall back in line, told me that if Felix had a problem she could come to you, but when she did what did you do?” Maverick hissed—he swore with the pressure building on his teeth as he clenched them tight he was about to break at least four. “You sent her away.” 

“I was just following protocol—“ 

“When has following protocol ever worked in the case of domestic violence, Sir.” Maverick left it at that as he made his way over to the door. Speaking over his shoulder before Pete Mitchell went to explain to the remaining members of his Dagger crew what was going on. “It’s people like you who make the system so flawed it does more damage than good.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The sun had well and truly gone down by the time Bradley and Jake saw a doctor heading anywhere towards their immediate vicinity. Amilia had fallen asleep beside where Jake sat, her head felt natural on his shoulder and he, in every sense of the word, hadn’t had the heart to move her. 

Bob had shown up an hour ago. He’d packed up a bunch of Odette stuff and dropped it off at Paybacks place before he made his way over. He’d filled him in on what he knew and told him as soon as he knew more he’d call. 

“Wonder how long it’s gonna take for someone to put us out of our misery.” Rooster mumbled, his eyelids were heavy and his feet felt numb from sitting in the hospital waiting room chair for what felt like an eternity. 

“Probably won’t be for a while still, god only knows we deserve to sit and stew in our own self pity.” Jake replied, he was just as tired as Rooster. Amilia snorted as she stirred on Jake’s shoulder. 

“You two sound fucking pathetic.” Amile Fisher had the energy of a feral princess. She was wholesome and you could definitely take her home to meet your mother if you wanted to. But she drank tequila and bourbon of any sort straight. She;d square up with a grown man without hesitation and have no problem putting someone in their place. Amilia was all about balance, and right now? Jake Seresin was all kinds of out of balance. 

“Thought you were asleep?” Jake turned his head to where Amila still had her head resting on Jake’s shoulder. 

“The sound of your insecurities woke me up.” She mumbled, looking up at Jake through tired and hooded eyes. “You aren’t responsible for this, neither is Rooster, so cut the self loathing crap out.” 

“Yes ma’am—“ Bob's ears pricked up at the sound of Jake sounding off like an aviator falling in line. He had a feeling what was coming next if Amilia was anything like her sister Chelsea. 

“Ew, don’t call me ma’am, I work for a living.” Yep, he called it. Jake felt his heart skip a beat as he leaned in to kiss Amilias forehead gently, wondering if she’d follow through with her promise to headbutt the next guy who did so—she didn’t, Jake was simply met with a warm hum. 

“Y/n Y/l/n?” There was a doctor calling your name as Braldey stood up in a frantic attempt to immediately find out more. 

“That’s us!” He said a little too loud. The doctor just made his way over to where Rooster stood. “We’re here for Fe—how is she?” The doctor standing before Bradley just looked at him blankly. He had nothing good to say.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, it was pretty touch and go for a little while but we managed to get her stable enough to hopefully see some real progress come through in the next couple of weeks.” 

“What’s the prognosis?” Jake asked, Amilia had since set up right, Jake wasn’t going to admit he missed her touch. So he pretended that he didn’t mind.

“We’ve had to wire her jaw shut but she should still be able to talk, she’ll be able to move her lips, just won’t be able to eat or drink so we’ll get her set up on a liquid drip the second she’s up.” The doctor explained and Jake wanted to vomit. 

“She suffered a pretty serious spleen rupture, most likely caused by the blunt force trauma sustained around the area so we did have to remove it entirely—she’ll have to take a course of antibiotics every few months to ward of certain bacteria, living without that particular organ puts her at higher risk for life-threatening infections but you can live without it.” Doctor Sullivan explained as the waiting room reminded silent “She’ll receive a booster vaccine for pneumococcus, and for meningococcus and haemophilus influenzae type B in two weeks.” 

“Holy shit—“ Amilia couldn’t believe what she was hearing, this was serious. 

“Can we see her?” Bradley asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“She’s being brought down from surgery now, we’ll get her set up in a room and we’ll send someone to grab you when she’s ready to be seen, however, usual visiting hours are between seven and seven, Although, judging by the seriousness of Miss Y/l/n’s injuries it’s safe for me to assume we’re dealing with some sort of abuse here?”  

“Sherlock Holmes everybody.” Jake scoffed. “Listen, all due respect, but she won’t be alone for a second while she’s here.” Jake wasn’t asking the doctor to grant them a special pass, he was telling him. Doctor Sullivan simply nodded. He knew there was no reason to fight Jake on this one. They were gonna do what they wanted to do and no one was going to get in the way of that. 

“I’ll have my chief sign off on an extenuating circumstances case order and liaise with whatever investigation is currently being conducted.” Doctor Sullivan nodded. “I’ll send someone to get you all shortly.” 

“Thanks Doc, really appreciate it.” Bradley thanked Doctor Sullivan as he shook his hand, sitting down to patiently wait for the moment he could see you again. His heart had never hurt this much before. He wanted to cry but he was sure that he had nothing left in the tank. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

“Get in line.” Jake added. He was seething, his anger threatening to consume every fibre of his being. “Fuckers gonna be breathing through a tube, if I had known what he did, I would have killed him.”

“Rhett’s coming.” Bob piped up from his own seat, Rooster didn’t know who he was talking about. “He can stay with Felix while you guys sort Jaidyn out and take care of Odette.” 

“Who’s Rhett?” Rooster asked with a confused look smeared across his face. Jake answered for Bob knowing he wasn’t all that keen on airing his shit out. 

“Bob's brother.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Get your fucking hands off me!” Jaidyn spat as he was shoved into one of the holding cells at the North Island police station. “Are you fucking kidding me!” 

“Sir, calm down—you’re being detained for an incident that occurred this morning.” 

“You mean the innocent where I had the shit best out of me!?” Jaidyn shouted at the police officer who stood behind the other side of the bars. “I was beaten—“ 

“It was a provoked attack, we have video evidence to back the charges.” The officer explained before he turned on his heels, leaving Jaidyn to sit and stew in his own thoughts about how the fuck he was going to get the hell out of this. 

“Who took the video?” Jaidyn shouted down the hall at the police officer who had nearly rounded the corner.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss the identity of the woman who handed in that evidence.” Was all Jaidyn got in response before the officer had disappeared. Jaidyn knew exactly who he was talking about. 

“That fucking bitch.” Jaidyn remarked. It was the woman who stabbed his fucking tiers. He knew it. Amilia didn’t know it, but she had a target on her back as big as you did. As big as Jake and as big as Bradley. “That stupid fucking bitch—“ 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Rhett Abbott hated flying. Which was incredibly ironic considering what his brother did for a living. He sat in the middle aisle of a plane he swore looked like it came straight out of the eighties and kicked himself for dropping everything he had going for himself because of one phone call. 

Rhett didn't even ride. He was so distracted by Bob's calls that he couldn't focus. He knew if he got on the back of that bull he’d come off in a split second. Unable to hold onto whatever shot at victory he had. Rhett used to look up at night and wonder about his place in the stars, but all he seemed to do these days was look down–and worry about his place on the dirt. He was going nowhere and he knew it. 

As he turned his phone on aeroplane mode and readjusted himself, Rhett wondered if San Diago would be an escape he needed. Perhaps Bob wasn't just reaching out for help, maybe he was inadvertently extending a hand to Rhett, to pull him from the vortex that was Wabang Wyoming.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

When one of the nurses on shift had come to get Bradley and Jake, it was Amilia who thought it would be a good idea for her and Bob to let them have a moment alone with you. 

“Hey Bob, I'm kinda tired, Do you wanna come grab a coffee with me?” She asked softly, Bradley knew exactly what she was doing, so did Bob, it went straight over Jakes head though–but he didn't care all that much if Amilia wanted to be here or not, all he cared about as soon as the nurse had come and told them they could finally see you was that he got to do just that. 

“Sure.” Bob nodded, he collected his things, pocketing his phone but only after checking in to see if rhett had messaged him. Still nothing. 

“We’ll uh, catch up with you guys later.” Amilia pressed her lips together before she and Bob took off in the direction of the entrance. Leaving Bradley and Jake to face the harsh reality of jaidyn’s handy work themselves. It was probably for the best this way. 

“Oh my god.” Bradley had seen what you looked like in the janitors closet, so his reaction was nowhere near as confronting as Jakes. “He did that to her?” Jake asked, it was a stupid question he already knew the answer to as he walked closer to your bedside. “Y/n–” Seeing you like this, so fragile and broken in a god damn hospital made Jake realise the only person he let down more than you was your daughter.

“She's gonna be out for a few hours still.” The nurse spoke up from her spot by the door. “Make yourselves as comfortable as you can though.” Soon enough it was just Jake and Bradley staring at you as you lay sleeping, high off your face on copious amounts of painkillers in a hospital bed. Battered and bruised. Beaten nearly to death.

“I can't imagine what would have been going through her mind when she was in there.” Jake spoke quietly as he stroked the pad of his thumb across your swollen cheek. “Probably thought that no one was coming.” It was a dig at himself. 

“Cyclone said that there's footage.” Bradley spoke as he sat down in the chair beside your bed, watching the rise and fall of your chest. “He didn't think to check for a camera like he had in her hanger, this could be what puts him behind bars.” 

“He’d wanna hope so–” Jake hissed. “Because if I ever see that fucker again ill put him in the ground.” 

“Dot cant see her mum like this Jake.” Bradley couldn't take his eyes of you as he spoke. He was too afraid that if he did you'd stop breathing. “Look at her, she's a mess–it'll do more damage than good, to the both of them.” 

“We’ll do shifts, she needs us to be as reliable as rain in Seattle.” Jake knew where this conversation was going, so he bit the bullet before Rooster even needed to plead his case. “I know how you feel, and I know my place in all this mess.” He explained, pushing your hair behind your ear. “You decide what you wanna do and I'll follow your lead.” 

“I'm not Odette's dad, Jake.” 

“You’re the closest thing she's got to one, so you decide, if you wanna be here i'll look after Dot, if you wanna look after Dot i'll be here, but she needs someone here with her all the time.” 

“I feel like I can't breathe.” Bradley held a hand to his chest as his eyes welled with tears, Jake moved around to the side of the bed Rooster sat beside and placed a firm hand on his shoulder from behind. “She's the love of my life man, they both are.” 

“I meant what I said when I said she deserves the world Bradshaw, and if I know anyone deserving of her, I'm looking at him.” Jake recited what he’d told Bradley in the very beginning. “So we’ll both sit here, formulate a schedule, and figure out where we go from here so when Y/n wakes up, she knows that Dots all taken care of.” 

“Its gonna break her fucking heart that she won’t be able to see her.'' Bradley knew how you would react. You'd done so much to protect her and now you wouldnt even hold your daughter. “She's gonna flip.” 

“I'd rather have her flip out on us and be safe and in the care of doctors and nurses who want to help then have her traumatise her own daughter, because right now she looks like Frankenstein's bride.” 

“Don't let her hear you say that.” Bradley chuckled to himself as Jake tapped his best friend's shoulder, knowing that they were both over exhausted and struggling to stay awake. 

“I'll just tell her you said it.” Jake teased before making his way over to the other vacant chair in the corner of the room. “While she's indisposed we should start moving her shit into your house so when she's discharged you can take her and Dot home where they belong.”

“You think she’d be alright with that?” Bradley asked as he kissed the palm of your hand, holding it between his hands as he brought it up to his cheek. “And since when have you been so okay with her moving in?” Jake didn't answer straight away as he unbuttoned his flight suit, tied the arms around his waist and sat with an exaggerated sigh. 

“Since you chose her above everything else.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

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