#and then when it is about me I’m either to exhausted or too scared to say something

[mcnuggyy]

is there anything worse than correcting a cis person who you think is misgendering you but they were talking about someone else entirely and so then you have to apologize and it’s already so hard speaking up and now you just feel so stupid, like why even say anything ever… man… 🥲

[augustinewrites]

cw: it’s just angst

“i’m not mad.”

satoru closes and locks the front door, trailing after you into the kitchen, apprehension rising in the space kept between you. “really? because you seem kind of mad…”

“it’s fine, gojo.” you snap. “i’m fine.”

he watches you, quiet as the two of you go about your evening routine. leftovers from meals brought to the infirmary stowed away. week-old laundry tossed into the basket. you don’t say a word to him, emotions you don’t know how to make sense of still simmering.

“i’m sorry,” he says plainly as you’re both putting away the dishes. 

you wipe your hands on the tea towel, glancing over at him. “do you even know what you’re apologizing for?”

he shifts, unsure. “no…”

“of course you don’t,” you sigh. 

“then tell me,” he insists, exasperated. “i don’t want to fight.” 

“i don’t want to either,” you snap. “but you’re doing it again.” 

“doing what?”

“you just spent a week in the infirmary. you were hurt.”

“c’mon,” he laughs weakly. “there was no real chance of me dying.” 

“that’s not the—” you voice rises, then immediately quiets when you realize the kids are asleep. “that’s not the point. you’re losing yourself in it again. soon you’re going to drift away from us— from me,” you tell him, bleeding into the pain you’ve felt the last few days. “like you did when we were in school.”

because for as long as you’d known gojo, his drive was to constantly do more. be more. the period of time after the failure that was the star plasma vessel mission was the first time you’d witnessed it. gojo satoru doesn’t do anything halfway. he won’t permit himself to.

that’s what really scares you. he doesn’t know when to stop.

“i’m sorry that i worried you,” he apologizes, sincerity etched into his expression. you know him, know that he’s scared to say the wrong thing, that he’ll mess this up or somehow make it worse. “i had to. the higher ups—”

“satoru,” you interrupt, walls crumbling right in front of him. “i’ve always liked that you care about the jujutsu world. i just don’t want you to only care about it. not with where we are in our lives right now.”

“i don’t—”

“you do! you always have, and i get it. i know the world needs you…but things are getting worse, and we need to start thinking about the future—”

“everything i’m doing is for the future. for the future generation of sorcerers all over the world—”

“i don’t care about the world! i just care about you, and that’s the problem. one person always cares more in a relationship and that’s always been me.” 

“that’s not true,” he insists, a desperate edge in his voice. “all i’ve ever wanted is you. all i’ve never needed is you—”

“i need you too! maybe that sounds selfish or needy, but i don’t want there to be a day where i have to tell the kids that you’re not coming home. if you can’t understand that—”

he doesn’t think you realize you’re crying, frustrated tears gathering in your eyes and threatening to spill over. satoru reaches for you out of instinct, your argument the furthest thing from both your minds at this moment. you let him pull you into his arms, let him hold you. 

but you’re exhausted. 

this is fight you’ve been having since the moment you’d met him, and you don’t think he’ll understand the impact of it until you walk away.

“if you don’t understand that,” you continue softly, “then maybe we need to take a break.”

_____

outside the apartment door, nanami and shoko sit side by side, sharing a bottle of "welcome home" wine.

"guess they forgot we were coming over," the doctor mutters, pressing her ear against the door to see if jujutsu tech's favourite couple was still fighting. “it’s way too quiet in there. you think she killed him?”

nanami sighs, loosening his tie. “it’s quite possible.” 

“i’ll be the alibi and you’ll get rid of the body?”

“of course.”

[blue-jisungs]

fighting with them ♡

author's note. my very poor attempt on angst written in june 2023 LMAOOOOO enjoy!! (do not ask me why am i posting it now, i dont know either.)

making up after a fight - here !

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

chan couldn’t put a finger on it but there was something going on with you lately. from all of the people in the world he knew the best how life can get overwhelming sometimes. you were there for him during his hardships of being an idol… and a human being, in general.

and clearly, you were going through something too. but you didn’t say a word and even seemed to avoid him.

you arrived home late at night on one friday, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. chris is probably… working. so you you can easily sneak into your bedroom without him noticing you, right?

“y/n”

you turned around and saw him in the hallway, hair messed up and glass of water in his hand. his face lit up upon seeing you, however you could sense the weird tone of his voice.

“hi chris. i’ll go to sleep” you mumbled, taking off your shoes

“wait, can we talk? i know it’s late but i feel like nowadays we’re roommates, not a couple” he said. here it is. you let out another sigh

“i had a lot on my head today, can we not?” you grunted, leaving your bag on the floor.

“that’s the thing, y/n. there’s something going on and you just won’t tell me. and when we’re gonna talk when not now? you avoid me, let’s face it” chris continued, voicing out his worries. you knew.

“i’m sorry, okay? it’s just… i don’t want to talk right now and…” you pinched the bridge of your nose, earning a scoff from chan.

“you never want to talk, apparently. relationships are build on trust and communication. and i get the feeling you don’t trust me at all” his voice got a little louder but not to the range of shouting.

“listen, i–“ you started, genuine exhaustion feeling your body. you were afraid to snap and that’s the last thing you wanted to do. especially right now, especially at chris. but if it continues–

“i’m tired of your excuses, y/n! let me help you, talk to me, anything–“ chris pleaded and before you realised, it happened.

“can you shut the fuck up? i told you i’m tired! we’ll talk once you stop interrupting me for god’s sake!”

the realisation sank in as you watched chan’s features change with pain. his jaw tensed, eyes becoming cold.

“sure… i’m sorry. good night” he huffed, his steps leading him back to his studio.

your eyes watered, heart shattering into millions of pieces. you fucked up.

changing into your pyjamas you fell asleep on the couch, feeling like a burden in your own bed. your and chris’. and above all, you felt strange and empty, trying (and failing miserably) to fall asleep without him by your side.

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you approached lino quietly, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. he jolted a bit by your sudden appearance, the wooden spoon falling out of his hand.

“oh, sorry baby. how are you today?” you hummed when minho with a grumpy face grabbed the spoon.

“you’re so fucking clingy sometimes…” he grunted, causing your eyes to widen “get off me”

the coldness of his voice made you a bit scared, backing away. minho continued with his cooking task.

“like a literal baby, i swear. let me breathe for once, is this too much to ask for?” he snapped, not even looking at you.

you understood, of course you did. when you started dating minho he wasn’t too big on skinship but… he never spoke like that to you in general or about this.

“okay. i’m sorry” you mumbled, trying not to show how hurt you got by his words “i’ll be in the bedroom”

he didn’t even say anything. you held your tears and walked away, only letting them go once you were buried in your duvet.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

you let out a deep sigh, massaging your temples. changbin was looking at you with straight face, the tense silence between you two constantly interrupted by your group chat exploding with notifications.

“y/n, for the millionth time. they don’t deserve you, they literally treat you like shit” he grunted, glancing at your phone and reading the last message “'y/nnie we’re sorry, the date just slipped my mind', are you kidding me? what kind of an excuse is that?”

the thing was that your friends stood you up, again. lately they do that all the time but you know that they’re busy, just like you.

“a normal one! do i have to remind you the times you forgot about our dates? or i did? we’re humans, we forget things. and they’re my friends, they wouldn’t stand me up! we already rescheduled for tomorrow” you hissed “stop talking shit about my friends!”

“i’m not!” changbin whined “it just pisses me off because they meet up without you! don’t tell me you don’t know that!”

“i don’t because they don’t do that! stop accusing them!” you yelled, surprised by yourself. changbin sighed, his tongue poking the side of his cheek

“fine. just don’t run crying to me when you get stood up again, probably tomorrow” he huffed, crossing his arms

“i won’t!” you grunted, grabbing your phone and walking away to your bedroom.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

your boyfriend came home, a loud slam of his bag hitting the floor lighting a red lamp in your head. there was no usual, cheerful “hi baby!” or “i’m home!” coming from him.

hyunjin stepped into the kitchen, ignoring you, and poured himself some water.

“hi hyune” you hummed, approaching him. he mumbled something incoherent back, eyes everywhere but on you. you sighed quietly, shaking your head “how was your day?”

“awful, i’m exhausted” he grunted, poking his cheek with his tongue

“i’m sorry to hear that… here’s some food, i grabbed it from work. let me just finish heating it up” you hummed, smiling softly “and later if you want we can watch a movie?”

“just… i need some time alone. i’m tired, y/n. i know you wouldn’t get it because i’m an idol, i dance and work for the whole day but i just need to rest, okay?” hyunjin grunted, making you halt.

“what do you mean i wouldn’t get it?” you frowned, turning your gaze at him

“you’re… well, you’re not an idol. can i just-?” he spat out, running out of patience.

“oh, so i can’t feel exhausted? i know that working as a cleaning lady is not as mighty as being an idol, but it’s tiring as well” you said slowly, trying not to lose your temper.

“yeah, sure” he scoffed.

your eyes widened, genuine hurt breaking your heart.

“i’ll eat it later, don’t mind heating it up” he grunted and before he waddled away to the bedroom, he heard your murmurs.

“it’s for me… and you don’t mind talking to a filthy cleaning lady later…”

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

han was watching you for the past fifteen minutes, tongue poking the side of his cheek. you seemed to have fun while chatting with the other guy. way too much fun.

he just let out a sigh and took a sip of his drink. he hated it. he hated that he had to go to this party, that someone spilled a drink over him, that the food sucked and that you… you were ignoring him.

you let out a laugh and shook your head. the guy who you were talking to, beomgyu, patted your head with a grin.

suddenly you felt a hand on your arm, squeezing it. you turned around and saw jisung and his… tensed jaw.

“oh ji! i was wondering where you were! this is beomgyu, jeongin’s friend…” you smiled and beomgyu greeted your boyfriend with a happy smile

“we need to talk” han just grunted and walked away. you shrugged and beomgyu sent you a questioning look.

following jisung outside, where the weather wasn’t too pleasant, you rubbed your arms and enjoyed the silence.

“what’s up?” you asked, tilting your head.

“are you seriously asking me 'what’s up?'… y/n… you’ve been having the time of your life with that guy” he hissed, crossing his arms.

“beomgyu? what do you mean? we were just talking, that’s all” you scoffed, not fully understanding what he meant.

“please, y/n. you two were flirting! it’s unbelievable” he snarled, his voice raising dangerously.

“jisung, you know i only love you. i was just talking with him because he–“ you started

“cut the bullshit. it’s good to know you had fun at the party but i’m going home. have fun flirting with him” he bursted out, walking away

“jisung, what the fuck?!” you called but he didn’t stop “what do you want me to say? i… i seriously! you can ask him! i wasn’t saying anything–“

entering the room again filled his ears with music, jisung didn’t catch the way your voice broke down. legs leading him towards the exit, he noticed beomgyu watching him shocked.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

you drummed your fingers on the table nervously, giving the waiter an apologetic look. he walked up to you, sighing.

“i’m sorry ma’am but if you’re not planning on ordering something i’ll have to ask you to leave…” he said. you nodded, grabbing your purse

“i understand” you said and paid for the two glasses of water you ordered earlier.

“i’m sorry” the waiter mumbled, causing blood to flow to your cheeks. you shook your head and left, dialling your boyfriend’s number for the seventh time this night.

“–yeah, i know, right?! what’s up, y/n?” felix answered, the voices in the background becoming quieter.

“where are you?” you asked bluntly, crossing your arms

“i’m at changbin’s, why?” he asked confused

“why? well maybe because i was waiting for you like an idiot for the past two hours? why didn’t you pick up your phone earlier?” you spat out, voice starting to shake

“what are you talking about?” felix grunted

“our date, felix! like the third one you missed because allegedly you were busy? are you doing this on purpose or what?” you huffed, sitting down on a nearby bench.

“i was busy, y/n! i admit, today i forgot but we made plans with guys earlier and i just…” he trailed off.

“you just forgot. again. i don’t have any more patience or strength for that, felix. don’t you see that? you’re prioritising work over me” your voice broke, nails digging into your knees “if it keeps happening–“

“y/n… don’t say that! you know i’m busy, i’m an idol! what did you expect?” felix scoffed.

“i expected my boyfriend to be present in my life, you know? i understand that you’re an idol, i respect that and i support it… i just wish you were there for me, felix. do you even know i got fired yesterday?” you asked and were met with silence “exactly. now… have fun at changbin’s, say hi to the boys. i’m not coming back tonight”

with that you hung up, chest thumping in your chest. well, you’re going to have a sleepover at your best friend’s… again.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

you hummed happily, just getting off the phone with your mom. entering the kitchen you noticed seungmin with his glasses atop of his nose, reading something.

“hey, seungmo! do you have any plans on weekend?” you asked. he shook his head as a no “great! my parents are visiting, then”

he groaned, making you frown.

“what?” you asked, crossing your arms.

“again?” he finally looked up at you, fixing his glasses.

“what do you mean again? they visited us like, month ago!” you shook your head

“it’s just… tiring” he mumbled, playing with the hem of the paper he was reading

“tiring? they’re my parents, seungmin. and it’s hard for them too. they’re still getting used to living in korea, i know how that felt and besides, you should get used to it” you huffed

“okay, so? can’t you just go on your own? i wanted to practice, i could use some time alone” seungmin grunted. you bit your lip, looking down. did he just… did not like your parents? you couldn’t lie, it hurt you.

“fine. have fun then because i guess i’ll leave earlier, since you could use some time alone” you murmured

“are you angry at me?” he asked, some kind of mockery in his voice

“yeah, i am! do you not like them? why didn’t you tell me earlier?” the question made him scoff

“i just don’t feel like going, geez! just go, you’re being annoying today…” he grunted, reassuming his previous task.

you mumbled a soft oh and left your place right away, not bothering to pack. your parents have some clothes of yours at their place either way.

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

you watched jeongin text someone with a huge grin on his face, fingers quickly tapping against the screen of his phone. letting out a deep sigh, you reassumed watching the show.

“wait, why’d you start?” he asked suddenly, putting his phone away

“i asked you like, five times if i can start already” you grunted, not looking at him

“sorry, i was…” he hummed, hesitant “…texting someone”

“who was it?” you asked, not really caring about the weight of the question…

“no one important” he huffed. now, his answer made you confused. anxiety slowly creeping into your heart, you looked at him

“why’d you answer like that? i’m sure that person wouldn’t be too happy to hear that” you joked lightly. jeongin just shrugged, letting out an annoyed sigh. there was a sound of door opening somewhere in the dorm.

“can we just watch?” he asked coldly.

you fell quiet, mind racing with thoughts. if you think about it, you caught him texting and smiling like a teenage girl a couple of times this week. and he always quickly turned off his phone once you were near him. what was it?

“oh, hi you two!” you heard changbin’s voice. you turned around to wave at him and he waved back, then turning your eyes again at the screen “oi, jeongin-ah, did eunjeong text you back?”

your eyes widened upon hearing the name. eunjeong. jeongin’s ex.

you looked at him, his face immediately dropping. you sent a death glare to changbin that only now realised what he said. but that meant… he knew.

“you’re texting her? your ex?” you asked, crossing your arms. jeongin sighed, trying his best not to roll his eyes.

“and what if i am, geez! it’s not that serious, y/n” he grunted, looking at you.

“for me it is, jeongin. you know i have trust issues… and i don’t trust her, especially! besides, you told me you blocked her…?” you asked, heart racing abnormally fast.

“i lied, okay? because you’re so sensitive about everything, just like now! yes, i’m texting eunjeong and honestly, i don’t regret it! she’s fun, okay? we broke up on a good terms” he grunted. you stood up, walking away “where are you going?!”

“i need to think” you hissed, passing changbin by

“that’s exactly what i was talking about… god, such a crybaby over nothing” jeongin murmured, grabbing his phone.

before he could open up a chat with eunjeong, he heard a loud door slam.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[gojomamashouse]

Taking Care of You

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x babysitter!reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, oral sex (M receiving), breeding kink, praise kink, Fem!reader. Very minor mentions of injury & blood.

Description: He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home.

A/N: crossposted on my Ao3 and Tumblr.

3.7k words

18+ content! Minors and ageless blogs dni!

You remember the first time you came over to babysit for Mike all too clearly. You remember the way your eyes went wide when the door opened, and how your jaw nearly dropped to the floor. More importantly, you remember thinking that Mike Schmidt was far too hot for his own good, a clear image in your mind of how he had greeted you with tired eyes, messy hair, and a hand gripping the doorframe.

"Mr. Schmidt," you had blurted, ignorant to how his nose scrunched at the words leaving your mouth, "It's nice to—"

"Don't tell me I look that old?" His tired expression tried a smile, and you found yourself standing there, unable to formulate a proper response as you were already convinced you messed up the job before you even started. "Just Mike is fine.”

Back then, the only thing you knew about him was that he was hot, overworked, and clearly exhausted. So you did your best to make his life easier, even if those things were small, like cleaning all the dishes before he came home, tidying up all the clutter left behind on the table and kitchen counter. It wasn’t much, but you figured he could use whatever help he could get. He came home the first night, too tired to even notice before collapsing on the couch. Suppressing a giggle, you threw a blanket over his sleeping form, lingering a moment longer than you should have just to observe his face. Even in his sleep, you weren’t sure you could find even an ounce of peace in his expression.

—

Mike remembers the first week of your babysitting, when he returned home at some ungodly hour that Friday. While most babysitters in the past opted to lay on the couch, sleeping or watching TV, he had discovered that you preferred to be a bit more proactive. That night, in particular, he recalled your humming in the kitchen, rinsing the dishes before placing them in the dishwasher.

A strange feeling filled his chest at the sight, the smell of dinner still lingering and the radio playing some old song from his childhood. It was a feeling he shouldn't have been feeling towards the babysitter looking after his little sister. You had jumped when the floorboard creaked beneath himself shifting weight, still shy and jittery around him at the time.

“I didn’t see you come in,” your voice is still shaken from the scare. You turned to the oven, “Oh! I kept the food warm, in case you wanted some. Are you hungry?”

“No, no, I’m fine,” he said, blinking a bit to shake the thoughts from his head, “Ah, you don’t have to do all this, you know. The cooking and cleaning stuff.”

“I don’t mind. It’s not like I have anything else to do,” you returned your gaze to the dishes in the sink, “Besides, you work hard. It’s the least I can do. Just let me take care of it.”

Just let me take care of it.

A phrase he hadn’t yet forgotten, either. When was the last time anyone had taken care of anything for him? He’d taken on the role of being Abby’s caretaker the moment his parents were out of the picture. He had made countless sacrifices, dropping out of school to work full-time, losing his social life. His old friends preferring to go out partying rather than hang out with the guy who has a kid sister and a full-time job. Every day was work, only to mess up at work. Then go home, stress over a dirty home. Drive Abby to school, stress over her education and development.

He didn’t have it within himself to deny you, not when you were so kind and helpful. Even if the guilt ate away at him, reminding him how he couldn’t even afford to pay you close to what you deserved.

His eyes wandered to an image on the counter. There was himself, a familiar stickman with brown hair. There was Abby, of course, given the height difference. And then there was another figure, the hair undeniably similar to yours. All three figures were holding hands together inside a square home.

“What’s this?” He picked it up.

“Abby told me it’s us,” you had laughed, placing a dish in the dishwasher. “Cute, right?”

There was a thumping in his chest as he looked at you, before looking back down at the paper. All he could manage was a smile as he pinned it to the fridge.

You soon felt his presence at your side, his hand picking up another dish while you rinsed yours.

“Let me help with that,” he said.

—

You’ve fallen into a routine. Every day, when he returns home, he is met with the same thing. You, in the kitchen, humming. You, greeting him with a smile. You, sitting down to eat with him. You, always asking him about his day even though you know by now that he has nothing interesting to say. He prefers to hear you talk instead, to listen to you ramble about your shitty college professors and annoying roommates. He likes it like this. To be able to pretend that he’s not some deadbeat who can’t hold down a job to save his life or some traumatized freak haunted by the memories of his dead brother and parents. With you, he gets to pretend like he’s normal.

But, of course, just because he can pretend things are normal, doesn’t mean they are. Reality soon hits him when he’s sitting in his boss’s office, asking Mike for his badge and ID. It hits him when he’s driving home, remembering how he beat an innocent man, his knuckles still bloody as he grips the steering wheel tight. He walks through the front door, hearing you greet him from the kitchen, a sound that would have been music to his ears any other day.

“Mike?”

He doesn’t have the energy to reply. No, all he can do is walk over to the chair in the living room, sinking into it with a sigh. He loosens his tie and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the sound of dishes clattering in the sink followed by your footsteps against the hardwood floor.

“Hey, you okay?” Your voice is soft and gentle. His eyes shoot open when he feels your even softer touch against his forehead, laying the back of your palm flat. “You’re not sick, are you?”

In all the time you’ve been babysitting, neither of you had done so much as touch each other at all. The few times he could remember was how your fingers brushed when you reached for the same dish in the sink or the innocent hand you placed on his shoulder that one time you laughed so hard you couldn’t hold yourself up. He had always made sure to keep his hands firmly placed in his pockets or at his side. Now, you were touching his face, and he thinks that’s the first time anyone has touched him like that in years.

“Don’t worry about me.” He pleads, his body betraying his words when he leans into your touch, your hand drifting to caress his cheek, “You don’t have to.”

You ignore him, and your eyes scan over his form, before landing on his bloodied knuckles. A gasp escapes you, followed by the scolding of his name. He hears you stumble towards the bathroom, rummaging through whatever you can find and returning with a washcloth and disinfectant. You kneel beside him, cleaning the dried blood from his wounds and he winced from the sting of the alcohol.

“I know I don’t have to,” you finally break the silence. “I worry because I care.”

“Why?”

You avert your gaze.

“I just do.”

“That’s not a good enough answer.” He presses. There’s another pause.

“Because this feels like home.”

The answer is enough to render both of you silent, you out of humiliation, and him out of shock because he hadn’t realized you thought the same way.

You finish wiping the last bit of dried blood from his knuckles and there’s a lingering feeling left on his skin, where your fingers held his hands. Soft. Familiar. You’re still kneeling in front of him, but you’re wearing an expression he hadn’t seen since the first week he met you. It’s that look of shyness, the way you used to squirm under his gaze or shrink your presence out of fear of overstepping a boundary.

“Mike?”

“Yeah?

“Let me take care of you. Please?”

He knows it’s wrong. He knows that “messing around with the babysitter” has never been a good idea in the history of ever, but when he sees you gazing up at him like that, sitting on your knees between his legs, your eyes wide like that. Well, what the fuck else is he supposed to do?

The chair isn’t too high from the floor, so he easily finds himself at somewhat your level when he leans forward, his hand lifting your chin to look him in the eye. He pauses, analyzing your face just for a moment. Your lips are parted, so prettily, and your eyes are filled with a look of lust and desperation.

“Please,” you repeat, this time in a whisper.

Any semblance of self-restraint he had before was all lost the moment his lips met yours. He hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he got a taste, a groan escaping his throat when he feels your tongue in his mouth. And you, you are so pliant. So eager to please. Still timid, hands hesitant as they rested on his knees, but so willing to let him handle you however he pleases, moaning when he tugs on your hair, whimpering when his hands grope your chest through your shirt.

“Quiet,” he mutters between kisses. You feel him pull away, the ghost of his lips at your ear, “we gotta be quiet, yeah?”

You nod, and he kisses your forehead, a tender change from his rough kisses shared only moments prior. He looks down at you, a flustered mess, but knows he must look the same. He couldn’t even remember the last time he let himself indulge like this. He feels your hand slither up his thigh, fumbling with his belt, groaning when you feel him through his jeans.

“You’ve had a long day, haven’t you?” You ask, looking up at him through your lashes as your hand dips into his boxers.

“You have no idea,” he says, his hand caressing the side of your face, making circles with his thumb against your cheek. He can feel your skin heat up under his touch. Your hand wraps around his hardening cock, and he has to stop himself from bucking into you. You’re just so gentle and sweet and he knows you’d let him take his frustration out but he just cannot allow himself to do that just yet— not without a little guilt.

“Then talk to me.”

“Got, ah, fired,” he chokes out, feeling your thumb swipe over his tip, gathering his pre-cum and helping you stroke up and down with more ease. “Was my fault, too.”

“You started a fight, didn’t you?”

“Something like that.”

He looks down at you, his cock now fully hard in your hand. He can’t hold but admire the sight, how you hungrily stare at him, or how you press your thighs together to relieve yourself of your own desires. He feels his breathing become heavier with each passing stroke of your hand on his dick, and he forces himself to look away, his hand that had previously been caressing the side of your head now digging his fingers into the back of your scalp.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do now,” he leans his head back, in an attempt to stop himself from busting in your hand before you’ve even done anything. He swears he’s not usually this sensitive, but the fact that it’s been so long, and the fact that it’s you, had him feeling like he was a teenager getting his first handjob all over again. He tries not to think about it. “I’m already behind on bills. I don’t think I can even pay you. Probably won’t even get another fucking job after what I did.”

“You don’t need to pay me.”

“You’ve got to stop saying shit like that,” he shakes his head, almost in disbelief. He looks down at you again, and you’re pressing your lips to kiss the underside of his dick, then kissing his tip. He shudders. “You’re too good for this. For me.”

He’s about to continue, but your lips wrap around him and he can’t think of anything. Curse words slip from his lips, feeling your tongue work around him, your hot mouth taking him. He still has his hand on the back of your head, tempting him to force your head down, but he’s more curious about whether you’d try to take him all yourself— which you do. He feels your throat contract around him as you try to push yourself down his cock, determined to take it all. Sometimes, you really were that predictable. Sure, you were a timid little thing, but you were equally if not more stubborn. He grips the back of your head to pull you off, a cough rising to your throat as you catch your breath and he smiles lazily.

Your quick to take him back in your mouth, and he cherishes the feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, and your hands that reached for the base of him to stroke whatever you couldn’t take. He gives an experimental thrust and he’s in bliss when he hears you moan around him. And as much as he wishes he could do this forever, watching you take him in your mouth, he knows his own limits and he knows he won’t last any longer. Besides, he’s neglected your needs for far too long.

He pulls you off of his cock finally, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, your lips puffy from their earlier actions. Then, he’s lifting you to the couch, hovering over your form as your back hits the cushions. Mike is thankful that you chose to wear a skirt tonight because with your legs spread like this, he gets a full view of your white cotton underwear, as well as the wet patch your arousal has created. He brings his hand down between your legs, feeling you through the fabric. He can hear your breath hitch and he watches you bite down on your lower lip to suppress your noises. And as much as he wants to tell you not to, he is reminded by the fact that you are both doing this in the living room, and the last thing he wants to do is traumatize his little sister, who is sleeping a few doors down the hallway.

“Didn’t know you wanted me this bad,” he whispers, finally slipping his hand past the fabric barrier to gather your slick at his fingers and rub your clit with his thumb, his other fingers prodding at your hole but not yet entering.

“Wanted you for so long,” you admit, sucking in a breath when you feel his thumb circle around your clit again. “You’re really fucking hot.”

“Yeah?”

Two of his fingers finally sink into you and you’re gripping the fabric of his uniform at his shoulders. Rough, long and so much bigger than your own— you have to grit your teeth even harder to stop any sinful noises from escaping you.

“Always thought you were real pretty, too.” He continues, “You’re prettier right now, though.”

He continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the wet sounds making you burn up in embarrassment. He’s obsessed with the way your eyes roll back, how your pretty lashes flutter open and closed, and how your hips buck to meet his rhythm.

“More, please,” you finally let out, your eyes going down to his cock, which was still very much hard. “Need you inside.”

You whimper at the emptiness you feel when his fingers leave, but quickly forget about it the moment your panties are removed and you feel his cock rub against your cunt, the tip resting at your entrance. You expect to feel him push in, only to see that he has paused.

“I don’t have any condoms,” he says, a pained look on his face. He had no reason to keep any around any more, not since providing for Abby had become his number one priority. He mentally kicked himself for it now.

“Mike,” you whine, trying to roll your hips up, but his hands remained firm against you, keeping you down. “I don’t care. Just pull out or something.”

You feel like a pathetic idiot for saying it, and he feels even more of one for considering it at all. All he can manage is a sigh. He’d already crossed so many lines tonight that he shouldn’t have. What difference would crossing one more be?

He hesitates before pushing in, but once he feels your tight walls around the head of his dick he can’t find it within himself to have any regrets. You’re so tight and warm and wet and he loves the way you stretch around him, gasping with every inch he gives you. He pauses when he’s buried at the hilt, mentally trying to cool himself down because the fact that he’s fucking you raw and you’re taking him so well is driving him mad.

“So good,” he coos, his hand on your face, thumb on your lower lip, “so fucking good.”

He pulls away until he’s nearly out again before thrusting into you fully, and he has to slam his hand over your mouth to stop the moan that would have escaped you. He continues to fuck you like this, slowly, and deeply, before it’s not enough, and he finds himself taking you faster, harder, wanting to see how much you were willing to take.

You feel every inch of him inside you, and you can’t help but clench around him every time the tip of his cock hits the spot inside you that you can’t reach with your own fingers. You feel so full and it’s everything and more that you’ve needed for so long.

He pushes up your shirt, revealing your cleavage. Your breasts are still covered by your bra, but he pinches your nipples through the lacy fabric anyway, content when he hears you make a sound, muffled by his other hand which remains on your mouth.

He can tell you’re close from the telltale sign of your pussy clenching harder, and how you start to freeze up, too fucked out to do anything else. He, too, starts to feel himself approaching his limit but knows he has to hold out long enough to let you reach your high first. He finally removes his hand from your mouth and uses it to rub your clit.

“Such a good girl,” he breathes.

“I’ll always be good for you,” you keep your voice a whisper, “Always waiting for you when you come home.”

Your words ignite a desire within him he never realizes he had. He had never considered himself too fond of domestic life until you came into his house and made it feel like home. Now, as he’s fucking you, the only thing he can think about is how deeply he wants to cum inside you, over and over again until he gives you another kid to take care of. He doesn’t care if he can’t afford it. He’ll pick up as many jobs as he can get just to take care of you.

He feels your back arch and your walls clench around him, immediately going to kiss you to swallow your cries. He ruts into you, over and over again and though there’s a sinful voice in the back of his head telling him to fill you up until he’s dripping out of you, he knows he should stay true to his promise to pull out. That is, until you tell him otherwise.

“You can do it inside,” you choke out, still fucked out from your orgasm, “I don’t mind—“

Before you can finish your sentence his hips come to a stop and he’s finishing inside you, as deep as he possibly can, as if to not waste a single drop. When he finally pulls out, he can’t help but watch in awe as his seed drips from your cunt down to your ass, ruining the couch cushions beneath you both. He tries not the think about the consequences that will bring. Instead, he’s pulling you close, catching his breath while laying his head against your stomach. Moments later, he feels your hand running your fingers through his hair and he sighs, leaning into your warmth.

“I don’t want you to be Abby’s babysitter anymore,” he starts, his voice hoarse and worn out. He can feel you tense up when he says it, before immediately continuing, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”

He hears you laugh.

“Does that mean I won’t get paid anymore?”

“I’ll repay you in other ways,” he flashes you a suggestive smile, earning him a snort and a flick on his forehead. Still, the guilt gnaws at him from within. “Seriously, though. I will. I’ll take care of you, too.”

He doesn’t care what job he picks up next. He’ll take any job in the world, so long as it means he can provide for you and Abby.

—

You wake up the next morning, the scent of pinewood and campfire surrounding you. You don’t remember exactly how, but you remember, after being fucked mercilessly, being carried to his room, cleaned up, and falling asleep in Mike’s bed. Now, you find the place next to you empty but can observe Mike standing at the door, speaking in a hushed voice while holding back the door.

You stand on shaky legs, still wobbly from your earlier affairs, approaching the argument.

“Abby, go away!”

“No! Let me—“

“What’s all this?” You interject.

Mike loses his grip on the door and Abby opens it wide. Her arms are crossed, adorning a frown while Mike is bringing his hands to his face.

“Abby, I can explain—“

“Why didn’t you tell me you guys were having a sleepover?” She fumes, “We could have built a pillow fort!”

[lovebugism]

i have a lot of nightmares and shake a lot when nervous. could u maybe write something abt a reader that goes through similar issues, and eddie comforts them and tries to make them feel safe? u can do whatever u like with this, i just need some fluff! :]

as someone who also has frequent nightmares, this was very self-indulgent heheh i hope you like it :D — eddie calms you down when you have a bad dream (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of panic attacks, 1.2k)

Eddie didn’t know he loved you until now. Like, right now.

He’d always had an inkling, at the very least, but he didn’t know for sure until he got you into his bed — bare-faced and swallowed whole in an oversized t-shirt older than you are. You share a single pillow with him despite having your own, leaving your noses mere inches apart. His tired eyes go a bit cross-eyed when he looks at you.

Despite his heavy head and heavier eyelids, he doesn’t want to stop looking at you. He doesn’t want to stop talking to you, either. He doesn’t want to fall asleep at all ‘cause he’s scared he’ll miss you too much. 

And that’s when he realizes that he’s head over heels, completely, utterly, and hopelessly in love with you.

“You asleep yet?” he whispers into the dark bedroom, lit only by the streams of silver moonlight slipping through the curtains.

You shake your head against the pillow you share with him. “No,” you mumble — voice thick with exhaustion, eyes fluttered shut.

“Good,” Eddie replies, shifting on the mattress until he melts further into it. Your cold feet entwine with his warmer ones. He exhales a contented sigh through his nose. “Me neither…”

You can’t be entirely sure who dozed off first, but you know for certain you wake up before he does. 

3:47 A.M. blinks at you in bright red numbers on the nightstand. The witching hour greets you along with a rapidly beating heart, thrumming hard against your ribcage like it’s trying to escape from its confines.

The nightmare was a vivid one when it painted the backs of your eyelids, but you can’t really remember it now. You think that might be worse. Now you don’t know why you’re so scared — you just know that you are.

Fear, that’s all you can think about now, as your body trembles with a heavy, ice-cold feeling. Fear. Panic. Dread. 

The nightmare fades. Eddie’s body, warm and comforting next to yours, becomes a much more tangible thing. But you just can’t shake the feeling it left behind. The bad dream clings to you like smoke and swallows you whole before you can blink.

You shake with the longing to hold the boy beside you. If only you could clutch onto Eddie like a life vest, or a life-sized teddy bear, maybe then you could soothe your racing heart. But you know you don’t want to wake him, just like you know you don’t want him to see you like this — so torn up over a stupid bad dream.

You sit on the edge of the mattress and try to calm yourself down. The attempt is futile. You end up with a tight chest, a pounding heart, and two cheeks damp with fat tears. 

After no longer than five minutes of trying to stave off a panic attack by yourself, do you notice the bed shifting behind you. A wide palm smooths over your trembling shoulders a second later.

Eddie squints at your shivering silhouette, trying to see you better through the darkness and bleary haze of sleep. He finds you slouched over and clawing at your chest like something’s wrong. Your choked-back sobs and quiet sniffles aren’t any less concerning.

“You okay?” the boy slurs as he sits up behind you.

“‘M sorry,” you blurt, voice wet with emotion. You don’t know exactly what you’re apologizing for. You just feel like you should. Through hitched breaths, you manage out, “I didn’t— I didn’t mean to wake you— I’m sorry.”

Eddie shakes his wild head in response. The mattress squeaks under his weight as he shifts closer to you. “It’s okay. I woke up on my own,” he tells you, even though that’s not exactly the truth. “What happened, huh? Are you okay?”

You sniffle and try to respond through feeble gulps of air. “It was just a bad dream. I’m okay—” you blubber through tears, breath catching halfway through.

With his palm pressed to your spine, Eddie can feel each of your rattling breaths as you fight to drag them in. It makes his own chest ache. Your panic is his own.

“Breathe, baby, c’mon,” he urges gently as he slips in beside you. With one hand over your trembling shoulder, he slides his other over your heart. The delicate organ patters with an inhuman vigor against his palm. 

“Gotta calm down, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your temple before pressing a kiss there. “‘Fore you heart explodes on me. Breathe, babe. You’re okay.”

Your swelling throat tightens. “I don’t feel good,” you confess through tiny whimpers, ‘cause you don’t know how else to tell him it feels like you’re dying. You put a cold, trembling hand over one of Eddie’s — the one gently cradling your heart — and fight to stay grounded.

The boy’s brows pinch with concern. “Do you feel like you’re gonna be sick?”

You think for a moment. Then shake your head.

Eddie rubs a hand up and down the length of your back. “You’re doing good, babe. Just keep breathing for me. That’s it.”

He pulls you closer, embracing you despite the awkward angle. Your shoulder presses into his chest as your head nestles between his jaw and shoulder. You rest there until it no longer feels like you’re fighting for each breath. Until your ragged sobs turn into mousy sniffles.

The first thing you think to do after you’ve calmed is apologize.

“‘M sorry,” you murmur, thick with leftover emotion.

You feel his head shake against you, untamed curls tickling your skin. “Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

You snivel. “I feel like such a baby…”

“Everyone has bad dreams, babe. That’s life,” Eddie tells you with a lighthearted laugh. “I can’t count how many times I’ve slept on the couch after having one just so I could be closer to Wayne. Like, that’s embarrassing.”

“No, it isn’t,” you argue with a scrunched nose, cracking a small (but no less sincere) grin.

Eddie smiles at your smiling. He squeezes your shoulder with a gentle hand. “Wanna talk about it?” he offers, watching as you visibly ponder the question. You shake your head in response. He nods in understanding. “Wanna go back to sleep?”

You shake your head again, much less hesitant this time. You’re too scared to shut your eyes for longer than a blink now — lest the nightmare threaten to plague your mind again.

“Wanna sit in the kitchen with me while I make us some hot cocoa?” Eddie offers then.

You nod slowly, pursing your lips to the side of your mouth to hide the smile pulling there. You can’t help but beam, though, when he smacks a kiss to the warm apple of your cheek.

“C’mon, sweet thing,” he urges as he rises from the bed, pulling you gently with him. He guides you out of his bedroom with a warm hand cradling your smaller one. The quiet trailer fills with the sounds of creaking floorboards, bare feet shuffling against carpet, and Eddie’s tender voice.

“I’ll even pick out marshmallows from the Lucky Charms box to put in your cocoa—” he says before a yawn cuts him off. “—‘Cause that’s how much I love you.”

[cloudybarnes]

Busy Bee

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x slytherin!reader

Summary: you may have accidentally fallen asleep on draco, but in your defense, he was really comfortable to sleep on! now, though, you're forced to face your feelings for him and do something about them

Word Count: 2.6k+

Masterlist

✰  ✰  ✰

“Blaise, move your big arse away from my comfy spot.”

You had a tiring day of classes, and wanted nothing more than to just relax for the rest of the night. You had gone back to the Slytherin common room to hopefully see some of your friends and just wind down for the night. 

Everyone in Slytherin knew there was one special spot on the lounge couch that was reserved for you. You had spent countless hours and dozens of nights in that exact spot either studying or just hanging out with friends. That was your spot, and when you came into the common room, everyone knew to make way for it. 

Blaise chuckled and raised his hands in surrender. “Sorry, (Y/N), didn’t realize you’d be back so early.”

“Early?” You exclaimed as you jumped into your spot. “I’ve been busting my butt all morning for these stupid exams. I’m exhausted.”

Pansy groaned from her spot on the floor. “Why don’t you just cut yourself a break once in a while? It’s no fun when my best friend is too busy for, like, anything anymore.”

You frowned. “I’m not too busy for you! I’m here now, aren’t I?” You grabbed a blanket from the stockpile you kept in the common room, and wrapped yourself tight in it. 

Pansy rolled her eyes with a smile. “Yeah, yeah. You’re just in time to hear about the latest shit with Emma.” 

Pansy had a wild grudge against this poor Hufflepuff girl who didn’t even know that Pansy was beefing with her. It was quite funny, honestly, but you loved Pansy enough to let her moan on about what annoying thing Emma does everyday. 

“Oh goody.” Draco came out from the stairwell into the common room with a roll of his eyes. “Another go round of how insufferable you think that Hufflepuff is.” 

He glanced over to see you cocooned in your blanket and let out a soft laugh. Draco took his seat next to you and laid his arm over the back of the couch behind you. 

Draco intrigued you. Over the last year, the two of you had grown quite close. You considered Draco a good friend, but you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t wish it were more. Draco was kind. He was flirtatious and charming, but he was sweet and gentle with you as well. Sometimes you thought Draco may have feelings for you in return, but you were far too scared to confront him about it. 

“Well, for starters, we already know how much of a know it all she is, but for some reason she has to showboat just how smart she is. You’d think she was a Ravenclaw what with how obsessed she is with being correct.” Pansy said. 

Blaise started to respond to her squawking when Draco shifted closer to you. Blaise’s voice drifted away as you focused your attention to Draco. 

“You alright, Dray?” You asked. 

He smiled slightly. “Yeah, just trying to get comfortable. Salazar knows Pansy will be talking about this nonsense for hours.” 

Draco dropped his arm from the back of the couch to wrap around your shoulder and pull you into him. You could feel your heart beating out of your chest, silently hoping Draco couldn’t feel the intensity of it. 

You tried to hide the grin threatening to break out on your lips as you snuggled closer to his chest. This was definitely a first for you guys. Though you and Draco had been quite flirty, he’d never been so open with his physical touch before. 

“Then she had the nerve to choose me as her partner. Like I would ever consider her!” Pansy glanced over at you and did a double take when she saw you wrapped up in Draco. Her eyes grew slightly, but she averted them with a clear of her throat as to not make it obvious. 

“And then, she had the audacity-“

“She really is quite obsessed with this hufflepuff, huh?” Draco whispered to you, quiet enough for Pansy not to hear. 

You looked up at him. His face was so close to yours, your noses were practically touching. You bit your lip as a smile threatened your face. 

“Yeah,” you whispered back as you stared into his eyes. “Leave her be though, it keeps her entertained.”

Draco chucked, his minty breath hitting your face due to your close proximity. Your own breath caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized just how close you were to him. You could feel your stomach doing cartwheels as you took in all of his glorious features up close. The glimmer in his eyes, the point of his nose, the curve of his lips. 

“I didn’t see you earlier,” Draco shifted the conversation, pulling your gaze from his lips back to his eyes. “What were you doing all day, busy bee?”

You blushed at the nickname. “I was just in the library writing up essays and study guides for our finals.” You let out a yawn, the reminder of your morning making you realize just how exhausted you were. 

“Sleepy?” Draco murmured in your ear.

You nodded your head with a mumbled ‘yes’, then rested your head on his shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm tight around your waist, pulling you as close to him as possible. With his other hand, he softly combed his fingers through your hair.

You hummed as you closed your eyes. “You’re comfy,” you sleepily mumbled. 

Draco chuckled. His fingers brushed against your cheeks every once in a while as he gently continued combing through your hair. 

As you felt yourself falling asleep, you could hear Draco shushing Pansy and Blaise to ensure they didn't wake you. 

✰  ✰  ✰

The next morning you wake in your bed, unsure of how you got there. You must have gone up sometime in the night and just not remembered. 

With a shrug, you stood up and stretched your arms over your head. Pansy was snoring in the bed next to you. You tiptoed over to her and gently shook her awake. 

“Pansy,” you called as you shook her some more. “Come on, babe, time to wake up.” 

She just grumbled and swatted your hand from her shoulder. You huffed. Pansy was terrible in the mornings, and for some reason unknown to you, she didn’t believe in alarm clocks so you got stuck waking her up every morning. 

A mischievous idea came to mind, and with a smirk you jumped on top of her sleeping body. 

“Ahh!” She shouted as you frantically shook her awake.

“It’s wake up time, Pans! We’ve got to get ready for our charms exam this fine, beautiful morning.” You said with a laugh. 

Pansy sat up and pushed you off of her so you laid on the bed instead. “Geez,” she grinned as she rubbed at her sleepy eyes. “Who knew a night with Draco would make you so chipper this morning.”

You sat upright in crisscross as your smile fell. “Wait, what?”

You had spent the night with Draco? But that didn’t make sense, you woke up by yourself in your own bed. Plus, you would have remembered if something had happened between the two of you. 

Pansy saw your confused expression and chuckled. She grabbed a pillow and gently swatted you in the face with it. “Not like that, you silly. Salazar knows if you slept with Draco you’d have probably died of happiness.”

“Hey!” You whined as a blush started creeping on your cheeks. “I’m not that crazy for him.” 

“Oh, please,” Pansy scoffed with a slight smile. “I saw the way you cuddled up with him last night. I almost had a heart attack for you when I saw how close you were! Go (Y/N), go (Y/N)!” She cheered. 

You laughed and pushed Pansy away from you. “Shut up!” Your giggles died down as you recalled how you laid with him last night. “Was it really that obvious?”

“Girl please! I thought Draco was gonna scoop you up and run away with you. You should have seen the look on his face when you fell asleep on him. He looked at you like you hung the damn stars in the sky.”

Your heart fluttered. You knew there was something going on with you and Draco, but by the way Pansy was talking, though she had a knack for exaggeration, it sounded like he really did have a thing for you. 

“So, what do I do now?” You asked as you slightly rocked back and forth on her bed. 

“Are you joking?” Pansy deadpanned at you. “(Y/N/N), you gotta go get your man! I’m tired of watching you two drool like little puppies over each other just for nothing to come out of it.” 

Your cheeks flushed. It had been a long time of this back and forth with Draco, and you decided you were ready to see where it got you. 

“Okay, I’m gonna tell him next time I see him.” You said. 

Pansy cheered. “Yes, finally! Now hurry up, I’ll help you pick a cute outfit that has ‘date me’ written all over it.” 

You chuckled as Pansy eagerly jumped up and ran to your closet. She grabbed your shortest skirt, a white button up top, and your Slytherin robes. 

“Pans, how is this any different than my usual outfit?” You asked as you stood from the bed and joined her near the closet. 

“Ah, my sweet (Y/N), it’s not about the clothes you wear, but how you wear them.” She grinned as she threw the clothes into your hands. “Put them on so I can work my magic.”

You chuckled and stripped out of your pajamas to put on your school outfit. Turning back to Pansy, you said, “Okay, now what?” 

She devilishly grinned. Pansy pulled your skirt even higher up your legs to expose just a bit more of the skin there. She unbuttoned the top two buttons of your shirt and fixed your boobs so they popped out a little bit more. She wrapped the robe around your shoulders, but let the front open so you could see everything underneath. 

“And no tie,” she added, “that way your shirt can stay that way.”

You chuckled. “You get me into all these crazy shenanigans, you know that right?” 

“You know you love me.”

“Yeah,” you added wearily, “but what if it’s too much? I mean, we still have to go to class. It’s not like I'm only going to see Draco.”

“Who cares?” Pansy asked as she started to dress herself in a similar manner. “Let the other boys stare and show Draco that you’re a hottie who other boys can get at if he decides he’s gonna be a wuss today.”

You laughed. Pansy always knew just how to make you feel better. “Alright, let’s get out there, then. Don’t wanna keep all the boys waiting.” You winked at her. 

Pansy smirked and wrapped her arm with yours. You walked out together and down to your first class that you shared. 

Luckily for you, Draco did not share the same period for charms as you. You thought if Draco was in the class you would have surely failed your final. 

You felt pretty confident in your answers, and soon enough class was dismissed. 

Your heart beat out of your chest as you said your goodbyes to Pansy and walked to your next class: one you shared with Draco. 

Nervously, you picked at your clothes as you walked to potions. On your way there, you couldn’t help but notice all of the random students staring at you. Boys, and girls, sneaked peaks at you as you walked past them. 

It felt nice to be noticed, you just hoped Draco would react in a similar way. 

Speak of the devil.

There Draco stood in all his glory. He leaned against the wall outside of the potions room looking you up and down. Draco’s lip was trapped between his teeth and he sized you up. 

“Bloody hell, (Y/N).” Draco mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear over your rapidly-beating heart. 

Draco pushed himself off the wall and started walking towards you, meeting you halfway. He didn’t say anything. All he could do was stare. Draco knew you were gorgeous; he’d be a bloody fool to not have noticed it before, but there was something about the way you looked that made his head spin. 

While he shouldn’t say it, Draco had always imagined how you would look after he’d had his way with you. He didn’t ever want to seem like a creep, you were too sweet for that, but that just made him more curious. 

In all honesty, he didn’t know you had this in you. 

“Uh, Draco?” You asked. Draco had zoned out as he stared at you. You could feel your cheeks getting warm and you took in how awestruck he looked. 

“Hm?” He glanced back up into your eyes. “Sorry, sweetheart, you just- you just look incredible. Well, you look gorgeous everyday, just you look gorgeous and sexy if that makes sense.” 

You raised an eyebrow almost teasingly. “Oh, so you think I look sexy now, huh?” You don’t know where this newfound confidence came from, but you liked the way Draco’s eyes widened as you crossed your arms over your chest, pushing your boobs out ever so slightly.

Once he recovered, a smirk adorned his handsome face. “I always think you look sexy, now I'm just seeing it in person rather than my dreams. And speaking of dreams,” Draco grinned devilishly, “how did you sleep last night, darling?” 

You had almost forgotten about the confusion of the night. “I slept well. I think.” You chuckled as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear. “I don’t exactly remember getting to bed, though. Care to enlighten me?” 

Draco chuckled, “You fell asleep, quite adorably I might add, and I as the gentleman I am had the privilege of carrying you up the stairs and tucking you in for the night.” 

You smiled, “how come you didn’t just wake me?”

Draco’s cheeks tinged pink. “I, uh, I just knew how tired you were from your morning and I didn’t want to disturb you. Hope that was okay.” Draco rubbed the back of his neck a little awkwardly. 

You grinned and reached up to squeeze his arm. “It was really sweet of you, Draco.” 

The two of you stared at each other for a minute, the silence held some tension, it had some longing imbedded into it. 

“Draco…” 

“Do you want to go out sometime?” Draco cut you off. 

You gaped at him. “Like a date?”

Draco smiled, “yeah, exactly a date. I knew I’ve liked you for a little while, (Y/N), but when you cuddled up against me last night, I had this thought that I wanted to do it again. And then again after that too. You held onto like you needed me, and, uh, I really liked that.”

Draco blushed a little at his confession and shuffled his feet around nervously. 

You couldn’t help but grin and wrap your arms tight around his neck. Draco was a little taken aback by your quick movement, but surely sunk into your hug and wrapped his arms around your waist. 

“I’d love to go out with you, Dray,” you whispered as you were pressed so close to him. “I’ve been hoping you would ask me out for a long time.”

Draco pulled away, but still held his hands on your waist. “Sorry for keeping you waiting so long, darling.”

You giggled and grabbed Draco’s hands to pull him towards the classroom. “Come on, Slughorn doesn’t wait for anyone and I need to do good on this exam.”

Draco chuckled and let you pull him along to class. He couldn’t wait to finally take you out on a date. 

[breakingjen]

.

[desperate-gay]

mearps, "i can't believe after 3 years together this is the first time i'm ever learning this", kitchen at home

Family Recipe

Mary Earps x fem!reader

“What’s cookin’ good lookin’” Mary’s booming voice startles you, making you jump and almost drop the sharp knife you’re using to slice the food. “I scared ya didn’t I?” The taller girl chuckles, placing her hands on your hips and a kiss on your cheek.

“Yes, yes you did.” You huff in fake annoyance while playfully giving her a scolding look.

“Awe you’re so adorable all pouty.” Mary moves in a baby voice as one of her big hands reaches up and squeezes your cheeks. You quickly smack her hand away and mumble something under your breath as you turn your body back to the food.

“How was training?” The goalkeeper sighs, leaning against the counter while watching you do your thing.

“Exhausting, annoying, smelly, and any other adjectives I have missed. Besides that what are you stirring up over there, love?” Your girlfriend quirks an eyebrow and attempts to look over your shoulder only for her sight to still be blocked.

“I am starting to make my uncle’s signature pasta sauce so we can have some tonight.” You say, smiling at her giddy state when she starts clapping her hands in excitement.

At every family function your uncle brings his homemade pasta along with his sauce. Mary is always the first to get a plate and the first to get seconds. Nobody in the family knows the recipe besides your uncle, you, and your mom which makes Mary very jealous when you won’t share it with her.

The taller girl reappears behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist and hugging you along with placing random kisses either on your shoulders, head, or cheek. You smile at her clingy behavior, enjoying being close to her after not seeing each other for most of the week.

“Y’know what?” You ask, turning around to face her.

“What?”

“Do you want to help me cook?” Mary looks even more confused considering she doesn’t know anything about how the dish is made.

“I can’t help because I don’t know how.” Your girlfriend huffs while crossing her arms, annoyed that you’re basically rubbing it in her face.

“I think it’s time I can teach you.” You let out a big squeal when the goalkeeper’s arms lift you up into the air and spin you around in glee. “Okay okay, calm down there, cowboy. I gotta be conscious to do so.” You tease which the other girl doesn’t notice from being too caught up putting on an apron she jokingly got for you one day.

“Chef Mary reporting for duty.” She stands tall while fake saluting, making you giggle at her determination and silly nature.

“Alright you goof, you can start by cutting those tomatoes over there.” You point over to the free area with the knife.

“I can’t believe after 3 years together, this is the first time I’m ever learning this.” The taller girl speaks with a certain eagerness and reaches for the veggie and fruit bowl.

“Mary, those are apples.”

A little while later all the ingredients are already in the pot and formed into the signature sauce. You scoop up a little with the wooden spoon and hold her hand under it in case anything spills while blowing to cool it off.

“Time for the final test. Try and see if it’s good.” You hold up the spoon, gesturing for her to open her mouth. Once she does, you angle it up into her mouth in an attempt to make it all in but some drips down the corner of your lips.

“God, that’s so delicious I’ll never get over it.” She groans at the taste immediately wanting more.

“You got a little something right there.” You smile while wiping the remains of the dressing off her chin. While trying to gather it off her face, you don’t notice the loving expression she has while staring down at you. “There you go, my love.” You say, sucking it off your thumb before you swiftly get pulled in for a time-stopping kiss.

The kiss is so unbelievably tender and sweet that you almost faint. You can tell how much love is being poured into it just by the feeling of her lips and her hand cradling your face. Once air becomes a problem, you pull away reluctantly while staring at each other in awe.

“Wow.” You whisper, placing your hands over hers that still rest on your face.

“I love ya. I love ya so so so much.” She finalizes her statement with another big kiss on your lips. In your head, you know that this is forever. No one besides family can know the secret recipes and now she’s your family.

[mikanotes]

Hiii

Chishiya x reader that takes place in the first episode (season 2) when the king of spades starts shooting everyone and Chishiya protects reader in his own Chishiya ways 🙏🏻 And they both don’t get in the car with arisu & the others so they go off to find somewhere they can stay. Maybe established relationship & from chishiyas pov

TyTyTy ❤️

— GUNS AND SPADES

chishiya x gn!reader | ? words

genre: established relationship, slight angst

warnings: s2 spoilers, shooting, guns, blood, death, mentions of fainting, kinda spoilers for chishiya’s past, aib stuff… badly written might edit later idk

synopsis: Surviving in the Borderlands was something you’d been forced to get used to. Getting shot at for absolutely no reason when no game was ongoing was something else entirely.

author’s note: thank you for requesting! hope you like it!! to be honest i struggle with writing about chishiya this way a bit so this isn’t nearly as good as i wanted it to be. also i have no idea where i was going with this. nevertheless i hope it’s nice to read!

The sound of shots was clear. People scrambled around Shibuya Crossing, running for their lives without a care for one another’s. When faced with Death, people showed their true selves— Or whatever.

It would seem that, as per usual, your true self in this situation was to start running away before cursing at Chishiya and pulling him so he’d follow. Sure, he would start running eventually either way, but he certainly took his time.

“Chishiya, seriously.” you scoffed.

Thus the run began.

Arisu, Usagi, Kuina, you, and Chishiya were all lined up hiding behind an underground subway’s stairs entrance, crouching behind the wall and checking through the glass for the unknown shooter.

“Is this a game? Where are the rules?” Usagi exclaimed through panicked breaths. Arisu shook his head immediately.

“There’s nothing. This is just mass murder.”

“Seriously.” you mumbled, checking through the glass, “More people are coming this way. We should get moving.”

You all started running away in a group before realizing there was no point. Arisu yelled at everyone to split up and you all did. Running through a crowd of scared people, all confused and fearing for their lives— It was never a good feeling.

“Ah!”

Especially when some were too rushed in their run and tripped over, resulting in you falling along with them.

“I’m sorry!” the man yelled, scrambling to get up.

You laughed dryly, jumping up to your feet with ease. “You should be.” you breathed out, before ducking and running to the nearest corner. You turned and ran and avoided people and ran and it felt like hours of your breathing getting progressively worse and more heavy before you finally ran into a familiar face.

“[name]!” Kuina exclaimed, stopping in her tracks before you two could run into each other, “Come with me!”

She grabbed your wrist and ran to a car nearby, quickly pulling you to sit down behind it along with her. You exhaled a heavy sigh, your chest heaving up and down and your head spinning.

“You look tired.” a familiar voice spoke casually. You lifted your head up only to see Chishiya look at you with an easy smile, waving his hand from his seat on Kuina’s other side. You deadpanned.

“Yeah. And you don’t.” you scoffed, “Are you two okay?”

“I’m surprised I don’t have a single wound, honestly.” Kuina sighed, head hitting the car’s door in exhaustion, “Seriously, what the fuck is going on?“

You glanced at Chishiya and he gave you a slight nod, affirming that he was okay. You nodded back before looking over your shoulder. “There’s people on the other side of the road. Usagi and Arisu, I think.”

Kuina furrowed her eyebrows before moving her head to the side, signaling you to move over and switch places with her. You did, as discreetly as possible, and let her check whatever it is she wanted to. Chishiya waved two fingers in front of your face and brought your attention to him.

“You good?”

“Yeah.” you sighed, “Just tired. I knew things weren’t over but I expected a little break after the hell that went down at the Beach, at least.”

“The hell continues, I guess.” he said casually, smiling.

You could only sigh.

“You have to stay focused if you don’t wanna die!” Kuina suddenly yelled. You looked over to her and jumped at the sound of shooting right at the road the car you were hiding behind was parked on. Chishiya grabbed your shoulder to pull you back when he did, only relaxing when the shots stopped. Kuina scoffed, “Where the fuck are they shooting from?”

Just as she sat back down properly, an airship of sorts appeared over everyone, creating a looming shadow that did nothing to reassure the players. Chishiya hummed. “The King of Spades.”

“Great.” you commented. There were probably hundreds of pieces of fabric tied together to form a giant King of Spades card floating in the sky, attached to the bottom of the airship. You wondered just how much more of this hell you would have to go through before you could return to the comfort of the hell you knew. The normal world.

Chishiya leaned forward and handed Kuina something. It looked like a can and… Oh. You’d seen him make this back at the Beach one day. He’d made three. They were small bombs but they could definitely help out if you ever needed it. His words. He handed you one as well and you inspected it. “Here you go. A good luck charm.”

“What’s this? A bomb?” Kuina asked.

“Use it when you’re in a pinch.” he said casually.

“You have questionable hobbies, Chishiya.” you hummed, spinning the object in your hand before putting it in your jacket, “Thank you.”

“I second that. Thanks.” Kuina chuckled.

The sound of shots rung in the air as well as several running footsteps along with it. You checked Kuina’s side and saw Arisu and Usagi hide behind the car directly next to yours— Just a few meters away. Kuina tilted her head, “Are you hurt?”

“Did you seriously stop to try and save someone?” you followed after glancing at the dying boy they’d seemingly carried all the way there, and Arisu looked at you with wide eyes, before looking away and grimacing. Nothing new, you thought.

Shots fired again but the sound didn’t drown out the clear, loud honking of a car. You thought you’d imagined it, honestly, because logically speaking there was no reason for anyone to not only show themselves so obviously with a moving car but also announce themselves by honking.

Yet when the entire group looked over to the road there was, indeed, a car waiting. Ann and Tatta. Your eyes widened. “What?”

“Hurry up! Get in!” Tatta yelled.

Usagi and Arisu were the first to run into the car, closely followed by Kuina. Chishiya, irritating as he could get, refused to take his hands out of his pockets to run. You were a bit behind, careful, and caught up to him quickly. “What part of hurry up are you missing?!” you exclaimed.

Chishiya stopped and stared at the ground. You were about to question why he wasn’t going into the car despite standing right in front of it but followed his gaze.

A grenade.

“This is bad. Run!” he instantly yelled, pulling you back and moving to start running away, “Get going! Drive!” he told Tatta, knowing there was no point in risking getting into the car anymore.

“[name]!” Usagi yelled.

Kuina seemed just as worried, “Chishiya!”

The sound of their voices were quickly drowned out when your head hit the hard concrete of the sidewalk as you and Chishiya jumped as far away as possible from the bomb. The explosion went off before your senses could start coming back and just as the car started driving away. You covered the sides of your head with your arms and felt Chishiya’s arm wrap around them.

Everything was spinning. For a moment, you weren’t sure you were alive. Then Chishiya’s voice brushed that thought away.

“We have to move.” he tried to speak over all the noise. You nodded faintly and got up on your feet to the best of your ability, before running away with him— Bullets following you closely.

To Chishiya, this would’ve been fine if you hadn’t been there.

If he had been alone during that shooting, even including the part where he fails to get in the car because of a grenade— it would all have been fine because Chishiya Shuntaro is used to dealing with whatever hellish cards the Borderlands hand him. But that’s where the problem lies;

You’re there.

Chishiya met you before the cruelty of the reality of the world stripped him of his empathy— Forced him into the stoicism of a person suppressing their own emotions. He met you before his job ruined a part of him, and his feelings seemingly didn’t waver one bit at that. The importance of your wellbeing had been something he cared about before but even with attempts at erasing his emotions he couldn’t erase the quickening pace of his heartbeat if he heard you weren’t doing well.

Chishiya made the mistake of letting himself fall for someone back in college (though he claims fall is too ridiculous) and now has to deal with the pains of feeling like he needs to protect said person. You were good at dealing with things yourself, too— Sure, but that didn’t mean anything to the instinctive worry that held him by the throat.

So he watches you, unconscious due to the amount of things that happened in a few seconds, lying on the ground of some empty apartment complex— With something anyone could easily mistake as disdain. It used to be easy dealing with complicated things when he was alone. He was also sure playing games would be so much more simple if you weren’t by his side. All he would have to care for would be his own survival and that would just be it. Now he had to fear Heart games and count you into every calculations he made to get himself out of a deadly game of chess.

It was almost infuriating how much you unconsciously forced him into changing his ways, even after all these years. He figured that was just how things went when you loved someone.

When you shift in your sleep and start sighing, eyes slowly blinking to force yourself awake, Chishiya doesn’t feel the smile form on his lips. “You’re lucky we found this place before you decided to pass out.”

“My God.” you grumbled, sitting up with some effort. “Have you just been sitting there? I’m surprised. Were you watching over me, or something?”

Even in situations like this, you just didn’t miss an opportunity to try and tease him. It’s not like it ever worked, but the attempts were amusing.“You weren’t out for that long.” he spoke as calmly as usual, “Sleep fine?”

“I dreamt of fireworks at Shibuya.” you said, and your voice dropped to a silent low. The shift from casual to slight anxiousness was barely noticeable, but very obvious to Chishiya. You cracked your neck and stretched. “Guess my head decided to make people yelling and loud sounds seem more happy than how it really was.”

“At least your mind’s version of the events that just transpired is less disturbing and nightmarish. Glad to know you slept well.” he said, pushing himself up to stand. “We should check the game nearby. I don’t like the idea of us standing there waiting.”

“Less chances of getting shot by that Kind of Spades, I guess.” you sighed, following him to stand up, “Just as many to get killed, though.”

Chishiya held his hand up and you looked at it, then at him, and a small smile pulled at your lips. You high-fived him and then you both wrapped your fingers around the other’s hand.

“Not if I’m there.” he claims, smirking a little. You scoff lightly and Chishiya knows you feel slightly better. It’s enough for now. The feelings of anxiety are pushed back far away enough for you to focus during games. Enough for you to play properly and keep yourself alive. Chishiya nodded a bit, “Let’s get going.”

“Alright.” you tightened your hold on his hand and you both walked towards the game near where you were staying at— Steeling yourselves for whatever the Borderlands had prepared for you.

[stinkybuttwipes]

Dragon ball characters 🖤Spicy🖤 headcanons~

Piccolo

This man let me tell you-

You’ll only get a few grunts out of him, he’s more focused on what he’s doing honestly.

He will only moan when he’s about to cum but he isn’t very loud with it because he is really embarrassed (poor bb)

Piccolo isn’t very vocal in bed nor does he do dirty talk but he’ll slip out a few cute names for you every now and then when he’s going at it

Ehem- sweetie, Angel, Honey *explodes*

He prefers to be in the missionary position but sometimes he’ll let you ride him ;)

He’s also a Hermaphrodite

You’ll wonder where tf his pp at and he’s so flustered about it. Lets just say piccolo aint the only one eating out (you gotta work to get that cock)

Once you get his cock out wish your pussy good luck because this man is huge

(8-9 inches and FUCKING GIRTH?)

Sometimes when he’s so exhausted and pent up he’ll need a blowjob from you.

His fingers, HIS FINGERS.

They don’t reach as deep as his cock does but boy do they make you see stars.

His antennas are hella sensitive so if you play with them you’ll definitely hear a silent moan from him.

He is so good with aftercare though don’t worry he’ll always take good care of you.

Want a bath? He’s on it. Hungry? He’s on it. Cuddles? He’s already got you❤️

Broly

Baby boy I love him so much

He’s a moaner! He’s a whimperer! He’s a crier!

This guy is a sweetheart in bed don’t let his appearance fool you.

He’ll be so gentle with you as he moans into your neck.

VANILLA SEX VANILLA SEX VANILLA SEX

He prefers not to be to rough or hard because he’s so scared he’ll accidentally hurt you doing it:(

Although if you want him to be rough or go harder whisper it into his ear please he’ll whimper for you and obey you so fast-

He’ll put his face in your chest as he rams into you , be careful what you wish for cause he is going to lose it eventually 🫣

Broly will start moaning reaaaal loud once he feels he’s going to finish (your pussy is to good for him ya know)

Be prepared for him to accidentally overstimulate himself-

He’s gonna either go harder and rougher or super saiyan on you. Either way you ain’t waking tomorrow.

This bitch will growl when he loses control and let’s be honest..it’s hot

Broly is PACKING he’s carrying a 10 inch veiny af cock when he’s hardened so he’ll be hitting you in all the right places.

Such a sweetie when it comes to aftercare. Play with his hair he’ll fall asleep immediately but right after he puts himself near your chest so he can hear your heart. It comforts him to know you’re still with him 🥹.

Goku

He can’t even be serious in bed

He is definitely a dog In heat when he’s horny though.

And when he’s horny he won’t leave you alone-

This bitch will have the fucking audacity to moan in your ear and grind on your ass (IN PUBLIC SOMETIMES TOO)

If you touch the spot where his tail used to be he’ll tremble but overtime it does become sensitive and he’ll tell you to stop.

Is a sweetie though even if he’s rough in bed, he’ll leave marks on you going from your neck to your calves.

He loves cockwarming at night and keeping his seed in you making sure none spills as you have to listen to him snore (no sleep for you~)

HE DO GOT A BIG COCK THO

9 INCHES AND HELLA WIDTH

ITS A SAIYAN THING THEY ALL GOT FAT PECKERS.

He is so good at eating you out like, a MASTER at it’ll he’ll get you to squirt in a minute.

So good with his tongue too 🫣

Will steal your panties and use them to get off as he moans loud so you can hear (HES DOING IT ON PURPOSE)

Favorite position is 69

Loves his cock sucked but also loves to taste you it gets him going~

He got fat balls full of cum so he’ll keep you up all night and day!

His calloused hands are good for clit rubbing 😩

He has no shame in saying the most embarrassing shit ever

Example: Goku: “What’s for dinner?” You: “bro, stfu and fuck me you dumb shi”

He forgets aftercare but he ain’t gonna bail on you

He’s prob gonna just pass out, cock still in you and everything…..”I’m hungry”

Overall 7/10 in bed

[wandasfifthwife]

dating hcs ⋆ ˚｡⋆

korra x reader

tw: mentions of fighting, injuries, arguments, issues with self-esteem, one slightly suggestive comment, and first kiss

╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲╱╲❀╱╲ ╱╲❀╱╲

» love language —> quality time & words of affirmation

» she has a lot of responsibilities making it difficult to get one-on-one time with you, so that’s something she seeks out

» when she’s most sincere it’s during these intimidate moments, and she’ll express that with words

» Korra’s a ‘I’m going to say what’s on my mind, and act on it’s’ woman

» so she’ll find you attractive and say so (but at the same time if she thinks you look wonky, she’ll say so too)

» she works out often. sometimes it’s a way for her to spend time by herself, and sometimes she’ll invite you to join her

» no matter where you are to her she’ll help you, fixing your form or answering questions

» while working out she’ll still have her usual sayings, so expect her to talk about how she’s grown very strong over the past couple of years

» if you’re shy/insecure, she’ll help you be more confident, asking why you care about what others think

» if you’re extroverted/confident, she’ll vibe w/ you and enjoy someone who keeps up with her (she’ll sometimes compete with you, saying she can do more of __, and will challenge you in the moment)

» incredibly protective (even if you can take care of yourself, she still has an eye on you)

» if someone jumps and scares you, she’s blasting them into the wall, telling them to cut it out

» I feel her preferred dates are ones where she’s able to spend time with you intimately and express how she feels about you, also open up about how she’s been through a lot

» if she doesn’t feel like she can trust you or if she feels you’re judging her—she’s walking away

» she likes to come to you about her emotional health, but most times if you’re trying to check in on her in the moment—she’s shrugging you off

» ex. she lost a fight, is showing signs of exhaustion/frustration—it’s best to leave her be in the moment to cool off, let her come to you

» I can see Korra being someone a tad bit pushy at times

» if you seem down she’s going to ask like 20 times if you’re okay

» this is all similar to her argument style

» if you argue, she’s going to be brash with her words and stand stubborn until you leave—she’ll need time to cool off before trying to find you

» if you’re a bender, she’ll give you lessons (a date idea)

» your first kiss can be instigated by either of you; korra comes off as someone who can initiate, but also loves/appreciates when you love on her

» if it’s by her, she’d do it during a date. she’d be looking at you and you’d get the feeling she does by how she’s glancing down so often. (if it’s by you, well that’s up to you when/how it happens)

» she’s gonna spank your ass at random times

» she’s a preener, she’s not a “brush hair behind ear” preener. she’s an “over-the-top bragging” about herself preener

» I’ve got huge muscles, I’m the avatar, I can beat this man into a pulp

» she’s trying to swoon you

» she’s interested in marriage, def a romantic (she’s wild as a teen, but does want someone to love her & vise versa)

» she definitely kicks the bottoms of your feet so you trip

» kids? I don’t think she’s opposed, but i think she’d like to wait (may not feel she’d be a good candidate to raise kids)

» she’s the type to eat your food even if you mark it as yours lmao (“whattt?? no I didn’t, why’re you looking at me?”)

» uses her knowledge of bending to get on yours nerves, but to also help you

» not a big pet name person, but will occasionally call you babe/baby if she has a choice (I feel like those are the most plausible)

» if you’re cold? she’s warming up and pulling you into her. if you’re hot, she’s cooling you down. if you’re just simple walking, she’s bending the earth with the flick of her wrist so you stumble and give her attention. if you’re walking away from her after an argument, she’s using air to pull you back to her

» she’s into hugs, does it often (and I’d honestly bet maybe just a bit more than kissing)

[ktgoodmorning]

The Wall: Pt. 2

Mapi Leon x teen!reader

Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove

“Yeah I’m scared but there’s really no reason to be, it goes round and round, promise me that we will never let life beat us down.”  “And if you wanna dance, just follow me let’s take a chance” “And if you wanna cry just hold your head up to the sky” “And if you wanna play, that’s fine with me I love this game”

Part 1

A/N: Wasn't expecting to have this done so soon, part 3 will be coming, I'm guessing it'll be the last part of this one

Masterlist

The way Mapi was looking at you, confronting you in the middle of the pitch, filled your body with rage. Every ounce of self control immediately left your body, “Mapi what are you doing!? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST LET ME BE!?” She took a step back, stunned by your reaction. Nobody on the team had seen you react like this, not even her. You normally kept it together really well so seeing you yell in the older woman’s face was concerning at the very least. 

She held her hands up as if surrendering, “Amiga, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to-” 

“NO! You’re not helping! Just leave me alone!” you were fully yelling before you tried to turn and walk away. Mapi roughly grabbed your shoulder and turned you back to face her, angering you even further. 

“I know you’re upset but you can’t-” 

“Don’t touch me! I’M FINE!” You put your hands on her shoulders and roughly shoved her away from you. Mapi froze in shock, unsure of what came over you. You weren’t sure either but took her silence as an opportunity to get away, jogging off to the locker room before she could catch up with you. You pulled it together slightly before you reached the locker room, making sure none of the other girls could see what just happened. If you just pretended none of that had happened, everything would be fine, right? You were fine. Everything was fine.

As soon as you sat down in front of your locker, your exhaustion seemed to catch up with you. You struggled some to control your breath, reaching for your water to help you calm down. A few of the girls had started arriving, but must have noticed that you weren’t in the mood to talk yet. They knew you typically did something extra before training started so they assumed you were just tired from that. Nobody realized that it was your thoughts that were causing your labored breathing, not the endless amount of exercise you had been doing all morning. 

What had you just done? You laid your hands on the only person who stood by you. The one person who would always take care of you. It was fine though. Mapi would understand. She had to. She wouldn’t kick you out of her house. She wouldn’t hate you. Right? It was all fine. You’d just ignore it all and hope she would too. 

When Mapi entered the locker room, she seemed to understand your plan. Your exterior was completely calm when she walked in. You were currently redoing your ponytail, getting ready for training, acting like nothing had happened. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead, surprised by how easily you seemed to be moving on after you had just exploded at her. But you refused to look at the older woman, hoping she would join you in moving on. It apparently worked as she just shook her head and joined Ingrid, giving her a look that would communicate that she’d fill her in later. 

Throughout training, you appeared to be your normal self. You were playing well, working hard, all things you would normally be doing. This is what you needed- to be succeeding in the one thing you cared about. It didn’t matter if everyone else left you. It didn’t matter if you were lonely and abandoned and lost and confused and exhausted. If you could play well you were fine. Everything else disappeared and you were fine. 

The rest of the team took your typical attitude as a display that you were okay. You had clearly got past the news of Leila’s transfer and were ready to be your usual self. Mapi was the only one who knew this wasn’t the case. 

During one of your water breaks, you found Claudia bounding over to join you, “do you want me to pick you up tonight or are you getting a ride from Mapi?” 

You shook your head, “I’m not going. I’ve gotta watch some film from last week’s match.” You spoke as if it was the most normal thing in the world- abandoning your last night with one of your best friends to watch an old football game that you’d already seen three times before. 

“You can’t be serious.” you just shrugged her off, leaving to get some extra shots in before the break was over. Claudia ran over to a group of the rest of your friends to let them know what you had told her. 

Of course this led to Leila joining you, interrupting you from the extra target practice. “Chiquita, what are you doing? Why would you not come out tonight? It’s my last night here.” She tried her best to hide the hurt in her voice but couldn’t believe you wouldn’t make the most of the little time you had left. 

“Leila, it’s not about you. I just have other things I need to do.” 

She scoffed at you, clearly seeing right through you. “Since when do you need to watch film on a Friday night? Everyone else will be there, (y/n), everyone. You really won’t come at all?” You just shrugged at her. You didn’t want to get into this during training. It was a lot easier to be mad at her than to actually face how empty it made you feel. 

You really were planning on watching film. The next match was on Sunday and you needed to do everything you possibly could to be ready for it. Luckily before either of you said anything more, Jonatan blew his whistle, summoning you all to continue onto the next set of drills. 

Throughout the rest of the day, you could feel some looks of concern being directed at you but they were always shut down by the level of skill you were exhibiting. You were training at the very top of your game which impressed anyone who was doubting your well-being. 

When Jonatan ended practice, the rest of the team started to scatter. Some made their way to the locker room while others stood around on the pitch, chatting or stretching in small groups. You were planning on staying late, already having arranged for Alexia to stay with you to work on your penalty kicks. She had no idea you’d come so early or worked yourself so hard. You knew your captain never would have agreed to stay with you if she knew how far you were pushing yourself. 

She was talking with some others before they left for the day so you took the time to stretch out your clearly exhausted muscles. It honestly surprised you that you weren’t more sore already. After your run, plus the sprints, plus a full day of training, your body was starting to hit its limits. 

While you waited for Alexia, you didn’t even notice Mapi making her way towards you. She walked slowly, apprehensive about talking to you at the moment. It was clear from your outburst earlier that you weren’t doing well and she didn’t want you to push her away even further. She had decided that it was necessary. Maybe with the others around it would be better. Or maybe you got out all your frustration this morning and now you’d be willing to talk. 

The older woman decided on sitting down near you, joining you in stretching, hoping it’d come across as less confrontational. “Hola, amiga.” she greeted you with the same words she always did but this time it was much quieter, almost timid. 

You gave her a small, “hola,” in return, your voice just as quiet and scared as hers was. You didn’t look up at her when you spoke. You couldn’t. The more you said to her, the harder it would be to keep it all in. 

You noticed the heavy sigh she let out before speaking again, “Are you really not going out with everyone tonight?” 

“No,” you spoke louder. “I’ve already said, I have too many things to do before Sunday. I don’t have time.”

“But amiga yesterday you said you were going to and-”

“Well I forgot I had things to get done so I can’t anymore.” Your voice was harsher this time, tired of having to explain yourself to everyone. 

Mapi knew it was risky but decided she needed to push you a bit more, “I really think we should talk. Not here. But I’m worried about you.” She cared about you so deeply and just wanted you to let her in. The older woman wanted so badly to help you, to take away all your problems, but had no idea what was going on with you. You should be sad about Leila leaving but why would you not go out with her tonight then? 

“Mapi, I’ve already told you, I’m fine.” your voice was filled with venom, fed up with everyone. “There’s nothing to talk about. Now please just leave me alone, Ale is gonna drive me so I don’t need you waiting for me. Just go, I’m fine.” You gave her a sad attempt at a smile, trying (but failing) to convince her that you were as fine as you were pretending. 

All Mapi could do was shake her head at you before getting up, “let me know if you need anything. You don’t need to be so scared to open up, I’m always around.” Her voice was defeated as she spoke calmly. When you didn’t respond, she turned and made her way to the locker room. She was at a loss for what to do next. It was clear you needed help but you had also made it extremely clear you didn’t want her talking to you. 

Once she had left, Alexia made her way over to you. You sighed in relief, knowing she was done talking and you could go back to focusing on football. Anytime you got to work one on one with Alexia, you were excited. You admired her focus and knowledge of the game, hoping to match her work ethic yourself. Your time with her helped you go back to blocking everything out. It was just you and her on a football field and you felt at peace for the first time in the last 24 hours. 

After at least an hour of working with her, Alexia had decided you needed to be done for the night. “Take care of yourself, especially after having this on top of training, you’ll really need it.” You nodded at her. If only she knew you had actually done much more than that today. “You’re coming out with us all tonight though right? To celebrate Leila?” 

You shook your head, “no, I want to go through some tapes before our game on Sunday, do some recovery, that kind of stuff.”

Alexia’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion, “for real? Even I’m going.” 

“I just think I’ll feel better going into Sunday if I can get this stuff done tonight,” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it’d come off as no big deal. If anyone would understand this, surely it’d be Alexia. 

“Si but breaks are important too, nena. Don’t forget that.” She gave you a look of skepticism as you made your way into the locker room together. You didn’t need a break. Surely Alexia knew she didn’t get to where she was by taking breaks. She got herself here by working hard and that’s exactly what you intended to do. If you worked hard enough, you’d be a good enough player that all your other problems would disappear. 

~ 

After Alexia brought you home, you had made dinner and settled on the couch to watch film. Mapi and Ingrid already left to join the rest of the team in their night out. A night out wasn’t going to make you better, studying your game would make you better. Finding your mistakes and picking them apart would make you better. Once you had picked apart every minute of your most recent matches, you switched to studying your upcoming opponents. That way you could know their every move, their every weakness. 

Mapi and Ingrid got home relatively early compared to how late a night out with the team would typically go. While everyone wanted the night to let loose and celebrate Leila, they were still aware of the game coming up in the next two days and wrapped up early. Mapi entered the apartment first and was shocked to see you lying on the couch, sleeping hard. It wasn’t unusual for you to go to sleep early, but this was still earlier than normal for you, especially when you had tomorrow off. 

It was even weirder to see you asleep on the couch. As she got closer, she noticed your laptop on your lap and notebook still in your hand, full of notes of everything you needed to do to be better. You clearly had passed out while in the middle of studying film, too worn out to make it to your bed. Similar to last night, you had a look of stress on your face as you slept, eyebrows drawn together tightly. At least this time you didn’t have tears dried on your cheeks like you had the night before.

 Knowing you were a heavy sleeper, Mapi decided she could carry you to bed without waking you up. She set your laptop on the coffee table and went to do the same with your notebook before something you had written caught her eye. Your notes were so critical of yourself. You had picked apart the tiniest little things and had filled the page with them. Most of the things you wrote down weren’t even things you could control. Some of them weren’t even football related. She noticed things like “let the team down”, “got lucky”, and “not as good as I should be”. Hey eyes settled on one word, underlined and circled in the margins of the page: “failure”. Is this really how you thought about yourself? You literally had a goal and an assist in the last match. How could you possibly think so poorly of yourself? 

The older girl sighed and set it on the table with your laptop, adding it to her mental list of things that needed to be talked about with you. She gently scooped you into her arms and noticed how you immediately curled into her. It disheartened her how you put up such strong walls when you were awake but sunk into her so easily when you were asleep. You had buried your face into the side of her neck and gripped her shirt softly, subconsciously longing for the love she showed you. 

Mapi brought you to your room and gently placed you in bed, pulling your blankets up around you. She took a moment to stare down at you, trying to figure out how she was going to get you to open up to her. She knew the longer you went without help, the worse you would get. She only hoped that she could figure it out before it would be too late.

Part 3

Masterlist

Feedback and requests are always welcome! :)

[joonipertree]

Tags: college au, awkward mikey, flustered mikey, mikey has a crush on you. skateboarder!mikey.

[I wrote this Feb 2022. THIS WAS BEFORE I WATCHED THE SHOW OR READ THE MANGA. I JUST SAW A PIC AND THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE???]

You weren’t sure what you were watching but you were pretty sure it was akin to a circus.

“Mikey, you have to.” A pretty girl said with a bored expression on her face.

“No.”

Mikey, your classmate, was simply circling around her with an equally bored expression. He was the definition of carefree, skateboard under his feet and hands in his pocket with his long blonde hair in a ponytail.

“You were fine five minutes ago.”

“That was before I had two mental breakdowns about it.”

“In the span of five minutes?”

“You don’t know my life.”

“I’m your sister.”

“No.”

“Mikey, just fucking go up to them and kiss already, it’s exhausting watching you pine.” Ryuguji, another classmate of yours, spoke from the bench he was sitting on.

“Shut your fucking mouth before I punch you, Kenchin.” Mikey deadpanned, skating a little wobbly for a second before righting himself.

“That’s not the point of this, you need a partner for the assignment.” The blonde girl spoke sternly.

“I’d rather fail than ask them.”

“I’ll tell big brother on you.”

“Oh no, I’m so scared. What horrible things will he do?” Mikey had a very sarcastic tone in his voice as he shivered exaggeratedly.

“Ass.”

“Emma, I’m still not convinced. There’s nothing that can possibly happen that will make me go and talk to them.”

“Oh hey _____, didn’t see you there.” Ryuguji all but shouted out.

Mikey promptly fell off his skateboard and stumbled two feet forward before stabilizing himself.

“Hey, sorry for just standing there, I needed to use the vending machine.” you said with a giggle.

Mikey all but skipped to the side which made you giggle as you walked towards it.

It was silent for a while and when you turned around, you saw the three of them having some kind of conversation with their eyes. It mostly consisted of Mikey shaking his head vehemently.

Emma looked at you a second later and smiled a saccharine sweet smile at you before saying, “I love that shirt on you, it’s very cute.”

You thanked her and looked to your right to see Ryuguji keeping Mikey in a headlock as the other tried to escape his clutches.

“So, I heard about that project that’s coming up. Do you have a partner yet?”

“Sadly, no.” You sighed. Your friends had paired off already and you were the only one left.

“Mikey doesn’t have a partner either.” Emma said just as Mikey broke himself free.

“Oh, if you want to be my partner then you can.” You said as nonchalantly as possible. To be honest, Mikey was very cute and you always wanted to talk to him but never had the courage.

“i’m-well-no-I mean-I-” Mikey stuttered the worst you’ve ever heard anyone stutter.

“This means yes in Mikey.” Emma informed and for your own sanity, you believed her.

With a drink in your hand, you walked towards him and handed him your phone.

“Add your number in, I’ll text you.”

The boy just stood there in silence, eyes almost out of his sockets as he held the pastel blue covered phone in his hand. You noticed how big his hands were and it made you blush a bit. You wondered what it would feel like to hold them.

“Oh my god, you fucking coward.” Emma muttered but before she could take your phone from his hand, he cradled it against his chest while glaring at her. He then very carefully typed in his digits.

You tried opening your bottle of juice but were very clearly failing to, grunting softly at the effort you were putting in.

He took the bottle from you and gave your phone back before very easily unscrewing the cap.

Why the fuck was that attractive?

He handed it back and you squeaked out a thanks before saying a quick goodbye.

You were too far to hear or see him but the boy melted against his best friend and whined over how cute you were.

“Did you see how cool I was opening that bottle for them? I was so fuckling calm, what the fuck.”

[yizmiu]

SITUATIONSHIP 〻ᯇ # lee heeseung

004. love | smau + written (606 wrds)

IN WHICH ✶ y/n loved the idea of love, simply because she hadn’t experienced it yet. She hoped and prayed that love would come to her at the perfect time of her life where she’s mentally stable and ready for it. So when she suddenly gets attention from Lee Heeseung—she can’t tell if she likes this or not? This sudden attention, he was extremely sweet to her, way too sweet that it was suspicious. Given his reputation, Heeseung wasn’t the type to settle. So why was he all up on Y/n? and just why was Y/n enjoying it? She was confused with herself and her new situationship, maybe she’s just overstimulated by everything and scared to commit.

Heeseung made eye contact with the girl who stood next to the balcony, observing the party from above. He waved with his right hand, his left occupied with a red solo cup.

Y/n waved back, not surprised to see the man then make his way up the stairs. Although talking to Heeseung can be exhausting to her (because she doesn’t know his motives), she was always thinking of ways to entertain the man so she doesn’t come off as rude.

“Y/n, is this your first party?” Heeseung lightly teased the girl to start their conversation. “No, I’m not as geeky as everyone says I am.” She rolled her eyes. “I just don’t like drinking that much so I don’t see the point in going.”

“My friends wanted me to be here so I’m here, but if we’re being real, Soobin is just tired of being the designated driver and having to stay sober the night.” She joked with him.

“I wouldn’t want to stay sober at a Kappa Chi party either.” Heeseung laughs. “So, I’m guessing you’re not enjoying yourself?” Heeseung asked.

“Watching everyone dance and stumble from the balcony is very enjoyable.” She said sarcastically.

“Come dance with me! It’s very fun.” Heeseung said excitedly as he pouted his lips at the girl. “I can’t even dance, and I feel like I'd have to be drunk for that…” Y/n thought about how awkward she’d feel dancing.

“Okay…then can I show you something? It’s in Beomgyu’s room, I promise nothing fishy! He has a cool guitar collection. I want to play you something.

“Beomgyu won’t mind?” Y/n asked. “He’s like one of my best friends of course he won’t, and besides he’s like drunk out of his mind right now…” The two turned their heads to Choi Beomgyu who was seen chugging a cup of beer as he was currently losing a game of beer pong.

“Okay, then.” Y/n nodded her head. Heeseung smiled at the girl as he took the lead to Beomgyu’s room.

The two walked into the fairly big room, “What’s your favorite ‘wave to earth’ song?” Heeseung asked as he closed the door.

“Uhm, I’ve been liking ‘love’ a lot recently.” Y/n said as she saw Heeseung gently grab the light blue electric guitar that was hanging on the wall.

“Sit.” Heeseung patted the ottoman in front of the bed, gesturing to the girl.

“Be ready to be impressed.” Heeseung sat on the bed across from where she had been sitting on the ottoman.

“Okay, impress me then.” Y/n playfully rolled her eyes.

Heeseung started stringing the guitar.

The room was being filled with beautiful chords that were currently being created from the fingers of the boy in front of her.

“Sing it for me, please.” Heeseung asked the girl as he was playing the instrument. Y/n nodded her head, quietly singing the lyrics. “Louder, please.” Heeseung chuckled. “Okay.” Y/n laughed, singing the song a little louder now.

With Heeseung’s guitar playing and Y/n’s singing, time stopped, or at least for the two of them.

Endlessly staring into each other's eyes this moment felt like forever.

“Is this song really that long?” Y/n thought to herself.

“Oh, sorry.” The chimes of text messages breaking their eye contact. “My friends are asking where I am…I should go see them.” Y/n quickly replied to their texts and stood up. “Yeah, don’t want them to worry.” Heeseung nervously chuckled, still feeling the tension between the two.

“I’ll talk to you later?” Heeseung said, in a questioning tone.

“We’ll see.” Y/n cheekily smirked.

—

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[piscespetals]

summary: in which sevika becomes your roommate. read part three here

content: gay pinning, fluff, smut

work count: 7k

thanks for waiting! i hope you enjoy <3

Chapter Four

By the time Sevika returns, you’ve already showered, painted your nails and returned to bed.

Your body is in a lot of pain, which means that you have to take more time than usual to complete these tasks. It’s when you’re back under your duvet and taking some pain medication that you hear the apartment door open. 

There’s shuffling and multiple footsteps, surely from Monica and Sevika. So you crane your neck (which is surprisingly painful) in an attempt to hear them better. But you can't.

A few moments pass of quiet murmuring and then the pair of footsteps sound again. This time they pass by your bedroom. The apartment door opens and closes. And you hear the bolt slide shut.

Your find that your muscles begin to tremble from tensing so much, and your neck holds a dull ache from the way that you're lifting it off of the pillow. You exhale slowly, relaxing into the billows and soft cushioning that your bed provides. Everything will be okay. 

You know that Sevika is making her way towards you before it even happens. That pull within you…that incredible burn that won't seem to go away–No matter how much you will it to—only grows stronger. For her.

So when your door knob twists, and the wooden door creaks open, you expect it. She stands there before you, eyes rimmed red and puffy, sniffling quietly with hardened lines almost everywhere on her face. A frown—one simple expression that would probably scare others away—is what you notice the most. A telltale sign of her distress; the ultimate reason for your worry.

Silently, she walks into your room, boots clanking loudly against the floorboards. Her feet drag, as if her conversation with Monica has been the most exhausting activity of the day, despite it only being Noon. 

Your duvet not only keeps you warm, but keeps you from getting out of bed. It keeps you from going against your better judgment, and it listens to the ache of your strained muscles from the accident of the previous day. 

Sevika still remains in her coat, even though it’s considerably warm in your room. It doesn't seem like she’s given herself much time to get settled, with her boots still on as well as her coat, and her car keys being clutched tightly in her hand. 

She sits in your bed with careful consideration, even though the air around her stirs with unease. As if she’s afraid to break your bed—as if she’s afraid to startle you. 

Her grey irises watch you just as carefully. They hold the same glimmer as yesterday evening when you found her in the hospital waiting room; the same soul-crushing tenderness.

“Why?” You ask. You wince as you try to sit up against your headboard. That alarms her. “I’m okay,” You reassure. “I’m just…” You wince once more. “A little sore. Nothing the doctor didn't warn me about.”

“Did you take your medication?”

You nod, “A while ago.” 

You probably should've taken a heavier dosage, but you know that either way, you’d still feel a little pain. 

“Okay,” She nods, accepting your answer with furrowing brows. She swallows thickly, eyes leaving yours and darting towards the covers of your bed. They stay there as she remains deep in thought. You watch silently. 

“So,” She continues.

A small smile graces your lips. “So…” 

Her tongue darts out and brushes against her lower lip swiftly. You try not to follow the movement too closely, but you’d be silly to act like it doesn’t affect you.

“I broke up with her.”

You give her a small nod. “I heard.”

“She didn’t take it well.”

“I figured.”

Another lapse of silence filters into the conversation. 

“You can always talk to me, you know.” You continue to watch her, despite the fact that she’s currently avoiding your gaze. “Even if it may be a hard conversation…I just want you to be comfortable.” 

“Hmm.” Sevika seems to be far away–mentally.

You don’t know how to bring her back to the present. Back to you.

“Did you know–” Her voice breaks and eyes dart to you. “I was married at one point.”

Your mind swarms. Suddenly, you're pushed back to last week, when Mel accidentally revealed Sevika’s divorce to you. It was a shocking secret to be told. But you felt guilty being told such a thing. So you desperately tried to store it in a place in your brain where it would be easily forgettable.

Until now.

“What am I saying–Of course you know.” She mumbles. It’s quieter. Almost an afterthought. “Mel called me and explained that she had accidentally told you. At first, I was upset. But I realized that she told…you, of all people. You would understand. You always do.” She presses her left palm into the duvet, leaning nearly all of her weight on it. “So I waited for you.” Her eyes lift to yours. Your breath catches. “...To say something,” She rushes. Oh. Clearing her throat, “I waited for you to bring it up. But you never did.” She looks at you like she’s never seen you before, registering every detail of your face with a sense of wonder. “Why?” 

You look back with slight confusion because the answer feels obvious. At least for you it does. “When I find out information like that, I want it to be because you’ve told me. And if it hasn’t come from you, then it's not my place to know.”

“I would have told you–”

“Sev,” Your hand lands on hers. Her skin feels soft underneath yours. “I love learning new things about you because I know how you are. Opening up doesn’t come easy for you. But you’re not entitled to me. So I’m happy to experience whatever parts of yourself that you’re willing to share. And if that means that it takes you a while to tell me things like this,” You shrug, squeezing her hand. “Then it takes you a while. I’m okay with that. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Well, of course you aren’t. You’re bedridden.”

“Oh god.”

She laughs. 

Her hand twitches underneath yours, knuckles grazing the inner parts of your palm. “My wife and I were together for 12 years.” She starts again. “We got married young, and for a long while, things were good.” She peers out of your window, her brown study returning. “But we grew up–we changed. She wanted kids and a life outside of my parents house. She didn’t like that we had moved. She didn’t like the town. She missed the city. She missed our old way of things. And my parent’s death…Well, I’ve always believed that it was the beginning of our end. Our trajectory of life stopped coinciding. That made me angry. I had lost my parents. I had lost my current life; the comfort of routines and traditions that I had made. And now I was losing her too. That felt–” Her lips press into a thin line. “I don’t think I had ever felt so hollow before then.”

It’s almost as if the light that consistently hovers above her is now dimmed. You try to imagine a Sevika that isn’t full of life. 

A Sevika that doesn’t find even the tiniest bits of happiness in the most mundane activities. A joyless Sevika who doesn’t find humor in your cooking failures and embarrassing childhood stories. A Sevika who you do not know–who is so different from the one that sits before you today. It’s nearly unfathomable. 

“I tried to make things right but it just wasn’t working. Living in my parents house was too much. And even more so after the divorce. Too many memories. Too many emotions. The town…Well, there was a reason that I originally moved away from there in the first place. She had moved across the country anyways, and hadn’t looked back after our papers were finalized. I wanted a fresh start too. So I sold my parents' home, packed up and flew back here.”

Somehow, while she was talking, her fingers had become entwined with yours. For a moment, you believe that you feel her pulse. It’s racing. 

You feel boneless from the realization.

You want to open your mouth and ask her if she’s alright, but a part of you also doesn't want to push her too quickly. 

“When Mel and Alicia told me about you, that you were looking for a roommate,” She wets her lips again. “They had given me all these warnings about you. How particular you are about things. That you’re easily…perturbed. And slightly immature. And a bit odd.” 

You scoff, ready to object and fume at the thought of them doing such a thing. But she only regards you with a warm chuckle and smile.

“And,” She adds quickly. “I was a bit thrown off at first. But I also knew that there was a reason they were recommending you to me. And when I met you, it clicked. It just made sense. That feeling of being empty,” Her hands grip yours tighter. “It was gone the first time I saw you. And I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you. Everytime that I breathe the same air as you–everyday that passes with you in my life. That's not…that's not normal. It wasn't my normal, at least.”

Something inside of you breaks. 

“And the fact that we were becoming friends, and that we lived together?” She continues. “It felt dangerous. Seeing you that much, being near you that much, and wanting to have more of that. While also not not wanting to ruin things…” You can tell that she’s struggling to vocalize her thoughts in a comprehensible manner. It almost feels as if she wants to say so many things at once. “Then I met Monica. And that was good. That was safer. Because she’s great, and I liked her, and she was familiar...You know? Being with her didn't make me want. It didn't fill me up, not like you…And I needed that. I needed…” Her words hang in the air as she tries to reach for a further grasp of her feelings. 

“God, am I making any sense?” She turns back to you, eyes completely blown out now. You’ve never seen her so desperate... She doesn't wait for you to answer. “But then I realized that I wasn't being fair to myself. That I couldn't keep restraining myself. And not to say that I was unhappy with Monica. But she wasn't you. It's you that pulls it out of me. That makes me feel. That annoys me like no other yet manages to weave yourself into the innermost parts of myself.”

For a few seconds, the world stops spinning. And you're just a person, who’s staring back at another beautiful person, feeling seen for the first time ever in your life.

Because she gets it.

Because it’s exactly how you’ve felt ever since she came barging into your life.

You want to speak, but your voice is trapped at the back of your throat. 

“I don’t expect for you to respond or for anything to change. It’s probably best that things don’t for now.” Her head is shaking, eyes downcast at your entwined hands. “I just wanted to explain it to you.”

And that’s what really cuts through to you. 

Sevika isn’t the type of person to be impulsive. In fact, there’s been multiple times when her constant state of contemplation has annoyed you. So this is particularly out of character for her; to break up with Monica out of nowhere and confess said feelings. 

You want to welcome it. But she’s right. This can’t happen. Not yet.  

You’re smacked again with the reality of today, and you feel as if you’re experiencing a kind of vertigo. Sevika senses it.

Gently, she stands to her feet, careful not to rock your bed unnecessarily.

“You should rest.” 

You don’t object. Instead, you nod, wanting to do nothing more than take a nap and hopefully wake up with a lighter weight on your shoulders. Fatigue floods you without warning. 

“Okay,” You mumble, allowing your body to snuggle deeper into the blankets.

It’s only when she’s halfway through the door threshold that she pauses, peering at you over her shoulder to say, “If you need anything, I’ll be in the living room.”

The reminder brings you more comfort than you realize. Enough comfort, in fact, that you finally let yourself drift off into a peaceful slumber.

“I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt,” Vander mumbles. His voice is muffled as he takes a bite of his steak. He sits in the seat across from you, mouth almost fully covered by the remarkable amount of facial hair he’s managed to grow since you last saw him. But his eyes speak a thousand words. They gleam with a hint of sorrow. And for a few seconds, you watch as they glide over to Sevika, growing even more delicate before returning to you. “You're the only one who laughs at my jokes.”

You smile, swirling your spoon through the contents of food left in your bowl. 

Your left leg is draped over your right, which is something that pained you to do a few days ago. You’re glad to finally be able to sit at the dinner table. The bruises from the airbag and seat belt are slowly beginning to heal. And for the first time in three days, you aren’t confined to your bed watching old reruns of The Nanny. The moment you were able to walk across your room without wincing too badly, you asked Sevika to invite Vander and Hazel over for lunch. It would be something to look forward to, since you have yet to be cleared for your return to work. Plus, you really like them.

“Because,” Hazel interjects. “Your jokes are terrible.”

“They’re a little outdated…” He rolls his eyes. “But they-”

“People like them because they’re entirely unfunny.” She continues. “It’s like seeing an ugly sweater and thinking, God. This is so fucking ugly…I love it.”

A belly laugh leaves you. The kind that nearly has you keeling over with a gummy smile. 

In doing so, your socked foot accidentally bumps into one of Sevika’s shins. She’s sitting beside you, eating her food quietly with annoyingly perfect table manners. Her cologne wafts towards you for a split second and it’s crisp. And spicy. And enticingly bitter-sweet.

Her chain necklace clashes against the silver pendant that is also hanging from her neck. And her palm settles onto your knee; fingers spreading firmly against the material of your leggings with incredible sensitivity.

“Sorry,” You mumble. 

“You’re good.” But her hand doesn’t retract its touch. Instead, her thumb works into the side of your leg, motions circular.  You don't think you've ever been so high off of a simple touch.

Even when she pulls away, your fingers hold your spoon with a death grip and your knee tingles.

Later on, when Hazel and Vander are long gone, a sense of comfort washes over you.

Seconds before Sevika begins to wash the dishes, she brings a chair into the kitchen for you to sit in. 

“That way, you can annoy me while I clean,” She mumbles, eyes downcast towards the sink. You know that it’s just an excuse for you two to be near each other. You don’t mind.

You observe her in the peaceful hush of the evening. She has an odd habit of insisting to wash the dishes herself, even though the dishwasher works perfectly fine. You usually don’t object, since Sevika always seems to take extra joy in domestic activities. But you don’t believe that you’ve fully appreciated it until now.

She stands over the sink with the sleeves of her flannel shirt rolled up to her elbows. Her hair has gotten longer, practically touching her shoulders now, and a few wispy strands get in the way of her face. She seems entirely pure right then–forehead creasing with effort and lips pursing in concentration. There’s only the sound of the running water and your racing heart. An emotion close to something deeply reverential fills you.

You’re wrapped up in one of her spare quilts that she’s given you. It smells like her. It feels like she couldn’t be any closer to you. And you feel silly for being so moved by a simple gesture. It shouldn’t feel so intimate. It shouldn’t mean so much to you. But it does.

She glances up at you briefly, almost to check as if you’re still there. And when your eyes lock, you tighten your hold on the quilt. She’s caught you staring.

But you don’t think you have the bandwidth to be able to say anything on the matter. 

Of course, Sevika has caught you staring at her countless times before.

But for some reason, this time holds meaning. It has weight, and it feels like solid ground has been placed underneath you. The two of you idle that way for a while. Sevika ignores the running water and her soapy hands. 

You’re reminded of the moment, days prior, when she sat on your bed and confessed the unfathomable to you:

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

That sentence rings through your brain so hard that you feel as if your skull rattles. 

It's not until you’re sure every one of your bones will break, when she looks away. She resumes her task of dish cleaning and you hover on your stool, struggling to find something more to say. 

Mel shivers besides you, wrapping one of your spare blankets around her tightly as she exhales loudly. The two of you are now outside, right in front of the apartment.

You stand much more still, wrapped in multiple layers and a scarf, and hands warm due to the mittens that Sevika gifted you a while back.

“Is it really necessary to wait for her out here?” Mel grumbles. “I’ll turn into ice soon.”

“She’s just a few minutes away.” You crane your neck to look at her levelly. “I told you to stay inside, Mel.”

“And let you wait out here in the dark by yourself?” She frowns, shivering once more.

The leaves rustle in the howling wind, and the night sky is so black that it almost looks dark blue in the moonlight. It’s getting to the time of year where sunsets are occurring sooner. Days are shortening and the weather is incredibly cold. Usually, you find this season a bit hard to enjoy. But Sevika does a good job of keeping the fireplace lit. She has a special recipe of soup that is always ready if you want some and she keeps the storage closet stocked with clean quilts in case you get cold at night. She looks after you more than you do yourself sometimes.

You’re starting to believe that this time of year isn't so bad after all.

“Do you always wait for her out here?” Mel asks. Her voice has grown quieter; tender. You glance at her out of the corner of your eye and you find that she’s gazing at you inquisitively. There’s something about this question that makes you want to shrink a little. 

You don’t have the courage to meet her gaze full-on.

“Only if she needs help carrying things.”

“And…she doesn’t mind?”

“I think it took her by surprise at first. She would insist that I stay inside and that she doesn’t need help. But, I would feel bad and still help. I guess now,” You shrug. “It’s just become…a thing.”

You feel like you’re being interrogated.

Sure, Mel has been over since she moved out. But you guess she’s never visited long enough to really see how you and Sevika live. 

It makes you feel anxious. Is there something bizarre about your livelihood now? It’s different from the routines that you and Mel had, but it’s not bad… right? Why does she keep grinning like that?

As if on cue, the blinding bright lights of Sevika’s vehicle appears. 

“Finally.” Mel grumbles.

You bite the inside of your cheek, suppressing a smile while the black truck grows near. You squint from the headlights, which Sevika turns off almost immediately. Then you’re walking towards the driver's door.

She grins, per usual, through the tinted window. Her full lips are stretched wide tonight, showing a breathtaking smile, as she opens the door and hops down with ease.

“You’re crazy.” She mutters. But her smile remains. “You didn’t have to wait out here in the cold. You’ll get sick.”

“I’m warm.”

“You’re sniffling.” She sends you a narrow glance as she opens the back door and reaches for her work bag. 

“Where’s the food?”

“On the other side. I figured I could grab i–” She pauses as you walk around the vehicle and open the passenger door. Your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets.

“You didn’t…”

“I was hoping to surprise you.” She calls. 

“You…” Coherent sentences fail to leave your lips as you reach for the oversized paper-brown bag sitting in the seat.

It’s from one of your favorite restaurants, a small shop that usually is open seasonally. You were waiting for it to re-open this year, and have been counting down the days to drive down and place your favorite order. It’s something that you’ve mentioned to Sevika only a few times, but you never thought she would be able to remember it. And with everything that has happened lately, you certainly hadn’t thought that she would go out of her way to find the place. 

The truck is too large for you to be able to see her face. So you grab the food and close the door, walking around the front of the truck to see her and Mel talking to each other quietly.

“You didn’t have to get this.” You say, hugging the food to your chest. It’s warm.

Mel whispers something to Sevika as the latter turns back to you. She looks cozy at that moment. Her trench coat is black and she’s wearing a creme beanie, which appears to be keeping her ears warm. You watch as she pushes her tortoiseshell glasses up the bridge of her nose and purses her lips. 

Her lips.

They look moisturized. There’s a slight gleam to them, a telltale sign that she’s applied more lip balm, and they seem puffier than normal. As if she’s been chewing on them...

She surveys you from head to toe, zeroing in on the mittens that you’re wearing before she hums underneath her breath. 

“I wanted to.” She replies.

Your chest constricts. Your eyelids flutter and a sigh escapes.

Mel clears her throat. “Can you two pause the flirting so we go inside? I’m freezing my ass off!"

She doesn’t wait for a response.

Instead, she snickers at the way your eyes widen before running past you and towards the apartment. 

You're bundled up wordlessly on the couch, cookies in hand as you watch Sevika bolt into the living room with a spatula.

Hazel cheers from the recliner, and Vander sits only a few feet away from you. He also stands to his feet, face reddening as his hands clench into fists. All three pairs of eyes are glued to the television screen, and your ears ring once more as your friends let out rounds of applause. 

“They're trying for another one?” Sevika asks, voice full of mirth. 

Vander doesn't break his gaze away from the screen when he answers, “They have enough time to do it. I wouldn't be surprised!”

It's another football Sunday.

You don't follow sports closely so you can't exactly say that you understand the intricacies of what they're talking about. But you can guess that their team is winning by the ridiculous grin on Sevika’s face. She’s supposed to be making lunch, but she keeps returning from the kitchen to get an update on the score. You think it's a funny sight to see, considering the fact that there's a television in the kitchen where she can watch the game. But it’s probably more enjoyable to be viewing it with everyone else.

“Who’s the goalie again?” You ask, hoping to get a reaction out of Sevika. She doesn't particularly enjoy when you fuck up the football terminology. The first few times it was accidental. Now you just do it because you know it'll get a rise out of her.

“Sweetheart…” She doesn't look at you, turning on her heels to walk back to the kitchen. Despite the pet name, you see the slight shake of her head, and there's also a buried layer of tightness in her voice.

It takes all of your strength to refrain from laughing. “It's only a question!”

“Do you not remember my answer from the last dozen times you’ve asked this?” Her voice reverberates off the kitchen walls and travels to where you are in the living room. Before you can reply, Hazel and Vander jump out of their seat again, this time screeching unbearably loud.

“That was a fucking foul!” Hazel’s eyes are deadly as they glare at the screen. Vander's jaw begins to grind.

You hear the sound of footsteps before Sevika appears again, this time with frazzled eyes and a towel draped over her shoulder. 

“What happened?”

You swing your leg at the very last minute, muscles tensing as your eyes widen towards the spill before you. “Shit!”

Then you’re laughing at yourself, nearly causing another spill from your piping hot mug of tea. 

“Oh god.” Mel grumbles but you can hear a smile in her tone. “What have you done now?”

Another giggle leaves you. “I can’t walk without spilling apparently.”

Within seconds, Mel is already wiping the tile floor with a clean towel. 

“Have I told you how much I love you?” You profess, making your way towards her sitting room. You’re visiting the house that she and Alicia have just recently purchased. It’s a bit ostentatious for your liking. But it’s everything that Mel deserves. A part of you even believes that she’ll forever deserve so much more–an entire kingdom of her own if she truly desires.

“Of course!” She croons. “Every time I help you with your messes.”

“....I wouldn’t say every time.”

Her hand slides to your lower back, guiding you towards the nearest piece of furniture. Even though the accident was a a few weeks ago, she still treats you as if you’re susceptible to breaking at any moment. It’s been a little suffocating. But you’re still grateful for her nonetheless. 

“Is that a new sweater?” She asks while you sit down. Your gaze falls to the crew neck that you’re wearing, a strong whiff of cologne filling your nostrils. 

“Oh. No.” You tug at the collar. “It's Sev’s.”

Silence looms in the air as you anxiously wait for her response. This is a new development. It's not often that you're walking around with Sevika's articles of clothing. 

But Mel’s response never comes. When you peer at her, she regards you with gentle eyes and lips that slowly curve. She says nothing more on the subject.

Instead, she hands you the bowl of fresh soup she’s just made. “It's hot. Be careful.”

Of course you don't listen and burn your tongue upon the first sip.

And, as always, Mel scolds you.

And then she helps you.

You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t stressed out.

Between handling the car repairs from the accident and updating the insurance claim, as well as the weird energy now circling you and Sevika—everything just seems to be a little too much right now.

The first mishap is when Sevika comes home from work to find you with both of your arms hanging in the air, and wax strips attached to your armpits. You usually like to pick up hobbies when you’re stressed out and you’ve always wanted to try waxing. But you hadn’t thoroughly watched the youtube video. So what was originally supposed to be an exciting new activity, quickly became anything but that. 

You had been pacing the living room, tears streaming down your cheeks as you tried to work up the courage to pull off the strip. That’s when Sevika unlocks the front door and walks through the threshold, bundled up in layers of clothing as a draft from the chilly evening is brought in with her. 

You halt your steps, eyes widening and nose still running.

She blinks back at you, just as bewildered, with lips forming into an 'O' and eyes trailing up and down your physique. “Is everything okay?”

That’s what causes the dam to break; your vision blurs and your chest rises with panic. Then you're crying, “I can’t rip it off!” Your arms raise again, flailing in the air ridiculously as you bring your armpits to the center of her attention.

Her eyebrows lift as realization dawns on her. “Oh,” Is that amusement? Slowly, her lips stretch into a small grin and her eyes begin to sparkle in a way that you usually adore. But not now. Not during an emergency! “Oh, sweetheart.” Her lips press against each other, a poor attempt to hide her mirth, as she kicks the door shut and locks it. Then she’s walking towards you, “Surely, it’s not that bad.”

“It’s awful!” Your eyes start to well again as you gesture towards your pits. 

She concedes, gazing at you with an annoying amount of warmth. “Okay, it’s awful.”

You can tell that she’s agreeing with you just to provide comfort. And you hate that it almost works. 

“I’ve waited too long, Sev. My skin will rip off!” 

She laughs.

Laughs!

You cry harder.

“You’re really,” She inhales deeply, trying to calm her chuckles. “...Quite the thespian.”

“Sevika!”

“Okay, okay. Here,” One of her hands press into the small of your back and guides you towards the nearby couch. “I’ll help. Just breathe.”

Your stress manifests itself in other ways, like when you start bringing home files from your job and reviewing them at night. It’s what you do to keep yourself busy—to keep yourself from hanging around Sevika like a lost puppy every night.

You can tell that she notices it. She stops by your room every once and a while to check on you, and when your replies are uncharacteristically short, she hovers. 

She doesn’t truly address it until the fifth night rolls around and you’re holed up in your room again, sitting on your bed with small mountains of paperwork around you. As always, she knocks on the door, you tell her to come in, and she pads into the room with a cup of tea and a snack for you.

When you peer up at her, you notice that she’s wearing one of those cotton t-shirts that always look heavenly on her. Sweatpants hang loosely from her hips, dipping just enough to where you catch a glimpse of her happy trail. And her v-lines are so deep that they’re practically etched into stone. You blink through clouds of brain fog, trying to will yourself to continue breathing. But it’s hard. 

“You should take a break,” She mumbles.

Pulling your eyes away from her, you move your paperwork aside, stretching out the sore muscles in your legs. “I’m not, like,” You blink once more. She smells so good. “Overwhelmed or anything.”

Carefully, she places the mug on your nightstand. You watch as her eyes remain downcast. Her hair is freshly washed, slightly damped and tucked behind her ears. The ends are a bit split now, resting ever-so-slightly against the tops of her broad shoulders.

“Here,” She holds out the small ceramic plate towards you. It has a couple of toasted butter croissants. One of your favorites. 

Nimbly, you take the plate. Without thinking, you pull your legs to your chest, “You can sit,” And your eyes travel to the spot in your bed where your feet once were. She appraises you for a few seconds, a habit of hers that you’ve grown accustomed to. However, at this moment, it’s difficult to not feel affected by it. It’s difficult to ignore the way that it makes you yearn for so many things. 

When she sits down, you notice that it’s much closer than you anticipated.

Then she mutters, “Are you avoiding me?” 

So much for beating around the bush.

Something about the way she cuts straight to the point–the way that her gaze has yet to leave you–makes your gut twist. You take this moment as an opportunity to shove a piece of croissant into your mouth. 

“Because if you are–” Her right palm presses into the duvet. It’s only inches away from your foot. “If it’s about what I told you last month, then we can just act like that never happened.” 

You swallow your mouthful of food, wincing slightly because you failed to chew it completely before doing so. When you glance back up at Sevika, you marvel at the swirl of her irises. She considers you seriously with bated breath. 

Then, that’s when you feel it; the sense of complete satisfaction. 

Because of her.

A part of you feels silly because how on earth could you run from this? And why would you ever want to avoid this? Avoid her?

There’s an element of stress that you’ve been feeling because this is all new. And it’s scary, and single handedly the reason why she broke up with Monica. But it’s also real and rare and, because of that, something that should absolutely be cherished. Not thrown away.

I’ve just become fuller and fuller and fuller everytime that I'm near you.

Over the course of this past month, those words have repeated so much in your mind that they’re practically tattooed onto your hippocampus. It’s all you’ve been able to think about, even during the shifts at your job. Even during the calls with your insurance company and the repair shop.

Sevika’s voice always manages to sit at the forefront.

The bed squeaks as she leans more weight onto her left hand, an action that allows her to shift closer to you. You rest your plate beside you on a pillow, croissants and hunger now discarded.

“We don’t have to forget it.” You find yourself saying. You think of the countless mornings that she makes you breakfast, and the times that she sits with you in the living room despite her lack of interest in the television programs you pick. You think of the evenings that you stand outside the apartment, waiting for her to arrive home from the store; how she always bears the heaviest grocery loads in spite of your objections. 

Shaking your head, you correct yourself. “I don’t want to forget it.”

Your mind travels to all the other moments that you’ve shared with Sevika. The notes that she leaves on the refrigerator, encouraging you to have a good day. And the spare blankets that she always washes for you; in case you become cold during the night.

Then there's the fact that she doesn’t become angry at your music playing in the late hours of the day. And her unwavering forgiveness after everything that happened with Monica; after all the times you’ve tested her patience.

“It’s just that this is so new,” You gesture to the small space between you and her. “And I don’t want to mess it up. And on top of that, I’m trying to navigate everything with the car wreck. It’s just... It’s hard.” Your breathing becomes uneven when you exhale. 

“I can help.” She shifts closer. The tips of her fingers nearly brush against your socked foot. 

“I can’t ask that of you. It’s my mess.”

“It can be my mess too.” Smiling, she dips her head to level her gaze. Her breath wafts towards you and it smells of peppermint. “I don’t mind.”

“But–”

“It’s not a problem at all for me. Nothing about you is.”

She doesn’t quite touch you, but you don’t know if what she’s doing is much different. With her sitting so close…you’re not sure if it truly matters. You can still feel the heat of her skin radiating off of her, as well as the warmth of her piercing stare. She watches you with eyes that could work out every kink in your body upon a single glance.

“You’re already giving me rides to and from work,” You begin. This is your last try—your final effort to keep her at arms length. “It’s too kind of you, Sev.”

Sevika’s always been the polite one out of you two—that’s not a secret. And it’s even been joked about a few times by Mel. 

“Why don’t you want me to be here for you?” Her head tilts as she asks this.

You blink, almost perplexed, “Well there has to be an expiration date at some point, right?”

Her response is slow. “...I’m not following.”

“For you to always be so acquiescent,” You rub your palms against the top of your thighs. “Even when I have nothing to give you in return. It doesn't make sense. There has to be a point where you won't feel so obliged anymore. An expiration date—” Your rambling halts when her hand wraps around your ankle. Gently, she presses her thumb against the base of your shin, then she works into your skin. A delicate massage. 

Slowly, she tugs. You allow your leg to be pulled towards her. Pretty soon, your other leg follows and she readjusts herself, so that the back of your thighs are almost resting on her lap. She's close. Really close.

Even though your heart is racing, out of mere instinct your hands stretch towards her.

“An expiration date will happen at some point and you won't want this. You won't want…me. And that's okay. Really. It’s—”

“Not possible.” When she smiles, you fall apart. It's the worst kind of heartbreak; the kind that’s painstakingly beautiful.

One of her hands continue to drape over your thighs, holding you in her lap as if you’re something to revere. Her other hand settles on top of your restless fingers, which happen to be kneading the hem of her shirt. She halts your fidgeting with a small squeeze.  

“That’s not possible,” She echoes, this time a little quieter. 

Her pupils are dilated with a fixed gaze, zeroing in on your nose. Then your lips. Oh.

As time passes, you try to swallow but you can't. 

Out of complete desire, you reach up and allow your fingertips to brush against the warmth of her skin. She watches you cautiously, almost alarmed, because you’ve never done anything like this before. Your knuckles graze alongside the sharpness of her cheekbones. With bated breath, she waits. Waits and waits and waits while you feel every inch of her skin.

It's unknown territory that you've stepped into. Yet it feels entirely natural all the same.

Your lips part when she leans in, and another cloud of her scent wafts around you. It soothes you and that fullness inside of you peaks to the highest of heights. It bursts, creating an impactful explosion—so much so that you can no longer hold yourself back. 

You swallow, finally, and lean forward too. It feels like too much time has passed when you close the distance. Her breathing stutters, eyes remaining on your lips before they flutter shut within the millisecond that she meets you.

Then, all at once, you feel your skin buzz. You hear the soaring of your heart when it shoots high up into the sky. You taste the sweetness of her lips and the warmth of her breath. It's good. Too good. 

When she moans, the sound vibrates into you. It zooms past the thudding of your heart, through the walls of your veins and soles of your feet. Your body reacts and you angle closer to her immediately. 

She pulls you into her lap with ease. Because that's how it always is with Sevika: easy. Kissing her is innate and you start to question how you’ve denied yourself such a privilege all this time. 

Sevika with her soft skin and shining grey eyes and warm smiles. This is her in front of you, kissing you back and accepting all that you're giving her without question. Without hesitation. 

This is real.

You press into her again as your arms lock around her shoulders. Another moan leaves her.

This is definitely real.

It's not until your pulling away for air when you allow your eyes to open.

The room is practically spinning. Oh god.

She nips at your neck while her hands find solace underneath your shirt. Her palms are flat against your lower back and fingers spread. And when something soft escapes your throat, her lips curve into a smile. She helps you sink lower into her lap—you're practically humping her now—with a grip that is both heady and encouraging.

“You can have me,” She says, her breath hot against your skin. 

You blink slowly, scrambling to keep up with the sound of her voice. 

You're slow to reply, so she pulls you two apart, just so that she can look directly at you. Her forefinger brushes against the tip of your chin, eyes locking with yours, and expression full of intent.

“Anything you want,” She mutters. It's hard to not become distracted by her lips; they're puffier than usual from the kissing. “Just say the words and I’ll give it to you.”

You're not sure why it happens at this exact moment, but your muscles lock up. Your vision starts to blur as you peer at her with swimming orbs, hands gripping her shoulders shakily.

Shit. You're definitely in too deep now...

"That's dangerous.”

She watches you for a few moments longer. Then, “How so?”

“Because I’ll want all of you.” A tear trickles down your cheek. Your cards are now laid out on the table. 

“Then have all of me.” 

Your hand curls around the back of her neck when she kisses your cheek—right where your tear is. 

“Just take it. All of it,” She whispers. Another kiss, this time it lingers longer. “I'm yours to have anyways.”

That breaks you. Truly breaks you. 

It’s hard to wrap your brain around how serious she is. But you start to believe her when her fingers push into you for the first time, eliciting a whimper from your lips. And as her fingers reach deeper and deeper, she swallows every sound you make with visceral pleasure. It satisfies her beyond anything famothable, to work into you and watch you unfold before her. Knowing that such a thing pleases her is what drives you mad.

It’s what has you crying please, please, please when she thrusts into you, watching you thank whatever God can hear you.  

Then she begins to tell you that you can let go, and that you’re doing so good. 

Because, you're really fucking special, and she wants you to know that. To feel that. 

Because she needs you to know that. She needs this and she needs you. She will never stop needing you.

Because, God, you're so fucking perfect. 

And when you’re cresting with tears rolling down your cheeks, blubbering about her having your heart and that she’s it for you—because you're certain there’ll never be anyone else—

She’s nodding, starry eyed and wanting, whispering, IknowIknowIknow as each thrust is fucked into you with delicious fervor.

Because, you're it for her too.

And she doesn't mind helping you realize that. Even if you demand that she drills it into you for the rest of the night.

[riverbutghost]

All Alone (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley xGN!Reader)

Summary: After an unsuccessful mission and you getting scolded by your lieutenant, you’re left all alone by yourself feeling depressed for the first time.

A/N: This is my first post ever on Tumblr lol I’m excited.

Categories: this is Angst / Hurt Comfort and the ending isn’t sad but isn’t happy either.

Warnings: graphic language, wound, blood, getting shot but nothing fatal, slight sexual themes, also the readers nickname is Scout.

You were exhausted.

The mission had gone wrong, making all of you to take a step back. And it was probably your fault.

“I’m going after that guy!” You yelled through your comm. Then Ghost’s voice was heard.

“Don’t do something stupid, Scout.”

But you had already done the stupid something.

You didn’t see it. You didn’t see the guy who was holding a gun to you from behind. It was Soap who saw it and informed you but it was too late.

You turned around quickly while pointing your gun, but the guy shot you in the arm. You gasped loudly at the sudden pain. You could’ve shot the man too, but a stupid little mistake was made. You couldn’t shoot him, you couldn’t move your arm. He ran and called for reinforcements.

And boom, the mission failed because of you.

On other circumstances, you wouldn’t mind being yelled at, but you weren’t feeling yourself. You weren’t Scout who would tell everyone to fuck off.

Even before the mission, you weren’t yourself. You didn’t know what was wrong with you, but you weren’t there. You didn’t mind it, but it costed you a whole mission.

You didn’t see your lieutenant after the incident, only seeing his back where he was sitting in the front of the truck. He didn’t say a word and it was painful. You were scared because that happened before too.

_

You had done something reckless again, almost getting shot at the head.

But you were lucky.

“You’re so fucking reckless, Scout.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. I’m not sorry Ghost.”

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“But I did, and I take the blame. So fuck off-“

In two steps, he was in front of you. He pushed you against the wall. Your breath hitched.

“When will you shut that stupid mouth of yours?”

Your lips parted involuntarily. Ghost’s eyes flicked down to your lips.

You closed your mouth and swallowed everything down. Every little witty remark.

Your eyes went back and forth between his eyes and his mouth.

He looked at your eyes again and his gaze softened.

You licked your lips. He took a breath.

“Don’t tempt me, Scout.” You gulped again. His voice was hoarse, his chest rumbled. Your skin was suddenly burning.

“I’m not trying to, Ghost.”

Your breaths were shallow, unorganized. You wanted to see his face, see his mind. What was he thinking?

You looked deep in his eyes. Suddenly, you found another emotion, sadness. Then there was guilt maybe. He swallowed whatever he was going to say.

You kept quiet. He was quiet too. You were just staring at each other, not feeling any discomfort even though you weren’t in a comfortable position.

“You could’ve fuckin’ died.” His voice came out as a whisper. His gaze dropped for a second. You shivered.

“Ghost, Price is calling for you!”

A sudden call from Gaz was the interruption you didn’t want.

“Comin’” He called to Gaz, still looking at your eyes. He cleared his throat. He took a step back and turned around, leaving you in the kitchen. Breathlessly, you cleared your throat too.

You felt something down on your abdomen, tensing slightly. You thought it was something sexual.

And that night, you had your first wet dream about your lieutenant.

_

Right now, you were sitting on the bed the medic told you to, and waiting for her to start patching your arm up. She had already took the bullet out, which was a really painful experience you might add, and she told you to wait for her to patch you up.

She was washing her hands and talking to you at the same time, not knowing her words were entering one ear and leaving from the other.

Suddenly the door swung open, Ghost came in.

“Get out, Stevens.”

The medic, Stevens, gulped and got out immediately, leaving you alone with him. You were screwed.

No need to be scared, you told yourself. He is my lieutenant, my friend-

“What the fuck was that?”

He snarled, looking at you with disappointment. You swallowed the lump in your throat. Not now, simon. Not after I fucking blowed up a mission by myself.

“Ghost I-“ He cut you off with a growl. You shivered.

“Didn’t know you were that, stupid.”

You licked your lips, trying so hard to come up with something witty. But no, you felt something else coming up.

You didn’t say anything, only looking at the floor. You were hoping for him to leave now, but no. Simon fucking Riley didn’t know when to shut up or speak.

“I can’t fucking believe you. You’re a fuckin’ failure..”

Ouch

You looked up.

He was still wearing his gear. He didn’t even wait to change, because scolding you was more important.

He took a deep breath, averting his eyes from yours.

“Are you done?” You asked with no emotion behind your words. You were exhausted, and your arm was still bleeding. You tightened your hand over it.

“No, I’m not fuckin’ done, Sergeant.”

You gulped when your eyes met. He was waiting, waiting for you to say something, anything that would set him off. He wasn’t looking at you though, you knew it. He was just here to scold you. He wasn’t seeing the bigger picture.

“My arm needs stitching.” He closed his eyes for a second.

“Fuckin’ hell,” He grumbled, the noise would make you feel things in other circumstances.

He looked at you one last time before getting out.

You got up and left the room after waiting for your doctor who didn’t show up.

.

.

.

You were out of the shower, still drying your hair with the towel.

You had stitched your arm by yourself, but it looked terrible as before. At least there was a gauze on your wound. You hoped it wouldn’t open.

You took a deep breath. You were going to bed after a long and hard day. Finally, you thought. You really wanted, no, needed to cry.

You could’ve literally cried after your lieutenants scolding, but you didn’t want to seem even more stupid and childish .

You’re a fucking failure , he’d said.

It was so hard, so hard not to cry and you were proud of yourself in that moment. Because if you cried in front of him, you would’ve showed him a vulnerable side and that was something you didn’t want.

Because you knew he didn’t like you.

You thought about your feelings towards your fucking lieutenant. He was your lieutenant, your superior. It wasn’t ethical, and you knew he wouldn’t look at you like that. It was almost painful to watch him interact with rookies like it’s nothing, but when it came to you he would shut off. He would scold you in a second if you did something wrong.

But you couldn’t forget about the little moment you had together in the kitchen too.

You wanted to take a breath, but you broke down instead.

You let the tears fall freely, not wiping them or anything. You knew you needed this. From the start of the day, you were waiting for that moment. And you finally had it.

And there was a knock on your door.

You sat down on your cold bathroom floor, not even suppressing your whimpers. You put your hands on your face, breaking down bad.

I need this, I need this, I’m worth it, I’m not a failure -

Then your door swung opened. You didn’t get up, you couldn’t. You couldn’t clear your vision. There was a nonstop battle between your eyes and your heart.

“Scout, hey.”

Then you heard him. You cried harder. You knew you were humiliating yourself , but you didn’t care for now.

“Scout, you’re okay-“

You harshly pulled your hands from your face and pushed him hard.

“Fuck you, Ghost. I’m not a-a failure and you know it. I’ll shoe you one day.” You were hiccuping between words and Simon cursed himself.

“Stop crying.”

You stood up, using both of your hands. The movement causing your arm to ache, and you whimpered.

Simon got up, looking stressed and angry at the same time.

“Let me look at your wound.”

“No, just leave me alone.” You answered him while rubbing your hands over your face. You didn’t sound angry for a second and that made him concerned.

“I don’t want you to fuckin’ bleed out and die, sergeant.”

Your face scrunched up, and you felt nauseous.

“Funny, lieutenant. I’m sure you want me to fucking die instead. Don’t need to be nice, we’re all alone.”

He was looking at you so confused. You wanted so hard to yell, to scream. But you were tired.

You closed your eyes and leaned on your bathroom door. You

“Listen to me fucking carefully, Scout.” He spoke harshly. You didn’t open your eyes, not ready yet to hear more scolding from him.

He took a deep breath.

“Please, Scout. “

You nodded your head, still wanting him to leave. He took a step towards you. His voice suddenly softened.

“Open those pretty eyes first, yeah?”

Your breath hitched a little and you mentally cursed yourself. You opened your eyes, finally meeting his’.

“I don’t know how to do…this.” He swallowed.

Simon took a careful step toward you again, and you let him. Your crying had already stopped, but you were looking like ghost now.

“To do what? Be nice to people?” You asked him harshly.

“Yeah, I don’t know how to be nice to people who I care about.”

You were startled by the sudden comment. He continued.

“I don’t know how to open up to people who could just die in an instant. Because If anything happens to them, I would be a real Ghost.”

You pressed your lips tighter now. You were shocked to hear those from him. But he still needed to work on his language.

He lifted his hand and put it just above your cheekbone, wiping under your eye. The sudden touch making your insides scream. you

“I don’t know what to do, to say, Scout.”

He leaned towards you, your breaths mixing with each other’s. You wanted to take off his mask now. Instead, you leaned your forehead in his forehead.

He leaned in, hand still stroking your cheek.

“Let’s figure out what to do, hm? Together .”

Your lieutenant closed his eyes and hummed. His other hand sneaked behind you to rest on your hip.

“I’m scared.” He confessed in a whisper. You licked your lips.

“Me too, Ghost.”

“Simon.” He interrupted you. You couldn’t even be happy that he told you his name.

He pulled back, his hands still resting on you.

“But that doesn’t mean you can talk shit to me, Simon.”

He swallowed the lump, nodding his head. It was hard for him, hard for him to suddenly feel an emotion. It was the worst fucking pain when you almost got shot in the head, but he couldn’t do anything other than yell at you, then fucking it up by almost kissing you. He couldn’t sleep after that night, seeing you on top of him was a sight worth dreaming but he couldn’t risk it.

He couldn’t fall in love with you. But he did. He wasn’t ready, for whatever feeling he had for you.

“I don’t think we should,” He called your real name at the end of the sentence. Your eyes suddenly shot open.

“Why? Simon fucking Riley is suddenly scared of some feelings?” You asked him harshly .

“Yes, he is.”

He was staring right at you, and you were starting to feel sleepy.

“You should probably go now.”

You said while looking anywhere but him. He sighed, looked at you one last time before grabbing the door handle to open the door wider for his massive form.

“I,” He sighed. “You’re not a failure, Scout. You’ll never be a failure.”

He got out of your bathroom, leaving you all alone once again.

“I’m not a failure.” You whispered to yourself, knowing fully the actual meaning behind his words.

He cared. He cared for you.

I hate this, this was rushed and also my first so please bear with me lol.