#apologies that this reply is later than i normally do!

[sobbingsapphic102]

Here's a request for you! Headmistress Miranda getting protective over MC after MC gets flirted with by someone else

A/N: I wrote a whole different story for this ask but forgot to save it :( I changed the whole thing and just wrote it all in one sitting. Sorry about the wait. Hope you enjoy!

Jelly?

Standing in front of the grand university, both hands occupied with cups of coffee (one for your boss who had a vile temper without coffee, and one for you) and unable to open the main door, you patiently waited for someone to come to your rescue.

In hindsight, you should’ve put your coffee on the cement ground, opened the door, and then picked it back up, but the lack of sleep from assignments and studying had your brain muddled.

You called out to a blonde, pretty girl about to walk past you.

“Hey! Could you open the door for me?” You said as loudly as you could without sounding rude.

She walks up to you and opens the door. She studied your face for a few seconds longer than normal, even squinted a bit. Before you can say “thank you” she asks you something that takes you off guard.

“Do I know you?” She asked, continued to scrutinize your face. She had light eyelashes, silky hair that reached down to her waist, and a twinkle in her eye.

“I… don’t think so?” You spoke falteringly. “I don’t think I’ve seen you around.

“You sure? You look pretty damn familiar... Maybe from my dreams?” She had a flustered look on her face after saying the most cliché line you’ve ever heard. Second-hand embarrassment hit you like a truck. A 20-ton truck.

You laughed awkwardly and didn’t speak.

Unbeknownst to you, Miranda was not in her office waiting for you but hunting you down outside. She caught sight of this unusual encounter and bristled with anger. Without hesitation, she hurried to your side and gave the girl a withering glare.

She turned and regarded you with a beatific expression. Gently taking the coffee from your hands, making sure to graze her fingers against yours, she casts a sardonic smile at the girl. Tightly gripping your wrist, she abruptly ends the conversation.

“Unfortunately for you, she is quite busy seeing that she is my assistant and has a considerable amount of filing to do.”

Internally you thanked God for not having to reject this oblivious girl.

Acting like she had no time to spare, she whisked you off to her office and you shot an apologetic smile at the girl, who still had the door handle in her clutches.

“What was that for—“ You ask, nearly tripping because of how fast Miranda was striding away, “—slow down!” You concentrated much harder than necessary to keep up with her power-walking. You both are the same height, how the hell is she walking so fast?

“You are aware she was flirting with you, correct?”

“Yeah but—“ You huff and puff before replying, “—That doesn’t mean you can or should be rude like that. You made a show of it, holding me down like that.”

She slows down and opens the door to her office. “I did not hold you down.” She says, before pulling you into her office.

It dawns on you. She was so, very very very jealous. You would never let her live it down. You glanced at her and took in the brooding look on her face.

“Be honest, were you jelly?”

She raised a brow at your funny slang, “No, I was not jelly as you put it… I was simply liberating you from that waste of space.” She moved toward her desk swiftly and silently.

You gasped at how easily “waste of space” left her mouth. Later, you would think about how much you abhorred this distasteful behaviour of hers, of how she was cruel to everyone around her. You ached for her to be more considerate of others.

“Miranda! That’s mean!”

“I apologize, my dove, but it’s the truth. Nobody on Earth could ever amount to anything worth being loved by you.” She pauses, “Except…perhaps... me? She blinked.

You let out a little laugh at that, not knowing how much she has done to keep you as hers. “You’re sweet.” You pulled her by the waist into your embrace, and admired her in the weak orange-yellow lighting of the lamps you bought to help you do paperwork without causing Miranda great distress.

“I love you forever,” You say, “even if that sounds corny as hell.”

That was one of the first times you had ever seen her smile so widely. You had absolutely no clue how much those four words meant to her.

[okaylikesmomo]

Exchange Part 4: Deal

~5k words, smut, male reader, barely proofread so be nice

It was only a month later before your modest life had turned incredibly lavish. Jisoo not only succeeded in landing you a fantastic promotion, but she also went above and beyond to make sure you got compensated more than you could have ever imagined - frankly more than you probably deserved, but who were you to complain?

What used to be your humble flat had been replaced by what was essentially an estate in an affluent South Korean neighborhood. People could work their entire lives and never be able to afford this, but for the most part, one evening was the reason you were here. Normally, living in a house this size would be rather lonely - fortunately for you there was company.

“You see Jennie’s latest CK ads?” The small girl asked casually as she scrolled through her phone, a cup of coffee in her other hand.

“Hard not to,” you replied. “They’re plastered all over my feed.”

“Girl would rather try convincing people to buy panties over being an idol at this point,” she sighed.

“Clearly it’s not working on you,” you commented as your eyes explored Lisa’s bare legs.

“Do you want me to put on some of Jennie’s panties?” Lisa smirked, putting down her coffee and uncrossing her legs. “I thought you preferred this,” she added as she spread her legs and started rubbing between her legs, using her fingers to cover herself up.

“I do, that’s why you’re still forbidden to wear pants when you’re in my house.”

“Is that right?” Lisa chuckled, crossing her legs again. “Since when is my body your property?”

“It goes both ways,” you replied, cocking an eyebrow in her direction. “Remember last weekend?”

“That’s different!” she whined, crossing her arms after tossing her phone onto the table. “I told you not to cum in her.”

“Baby it was one time, you-”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me,” Lisa growled. “We had a deal that night.”

“I’m sorry,” you apologized sarcastically before getting down on your knees in front of Lisa’s crossed legs. “Baby,” you teased, gently spreading her legs again.

“Shut up,” Lisa rolled her eyes, failing to hide her smile as she stood up from the chair and hopped onto the table. “Just hurry up, this coffee sucks.”

“Hey, I like this coffee…” you mumbled as you stood up from your knees and lowered your pants, tossing your shirt to the side.

“I’m just kidding,” Lisa chuckled. “It’s actually pretty good. I just want something else right now.”

“You’re always in the mood for that something else.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Does it look like I’m complaining?”

“Just hurry up and fuck me baby boy,” she groaned, losing any semblance of subtly, putting her heels up on the table. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” you grunted as you pressed your tip against her pussy.

She was already somewhat wet - the girl always had sex on her mind. You lathered up her slick onto your shift, working quickly because you knew Lisa could get impatient. At times she enjoyed a bit of teasing, but you knew when she wanted to get on with it - this morning was one of those times.

Lisa’s pussy never failed to impress you with how tight it was. Even after weeks of fucking her little pussy, weeks of sex being a nearly daily activity for the two of you, it still surprised you each and every time your cock entered her body.

“Oh fuck yes, it’s been too long,” Lisa moaned softly, tilting her head back as your cock slid slowly into her tight pussy.

“It’s been less than half a day,” you moaned back, wrapping your arms around her lower back for leverage as you pushed all the way into her slowly.

“Too long,” she groaned, bringing one hand between her legs and rubbing her clit.

Even though you were worried that you would start to grow tired of Lisa's body, those fears never came to fruition. It turned out that depriving an idol of any sexual outlet for an extended period of time led to a great deal of stress, and Lisa was taking full advantage of you to make up for lost time. Even if she was just using you, it didn't particularly matter to you because the arrangement worked out well regardless.

Luckily for you, that made the sex amazing. Even now, with Lisa leaning back on the table, with your hips pushing into her pussy, she managed to move her body back and forth alongside you. Laziness was not in her vocabulary - no matter what position she was in she was able to make it that much better for you through sheer physical talent. It motivated you, drove you to new levels. It made you want to fuck her harder every single time your cock blessed her soft body.

“Harder baby,” Lisa groaned softly, closing her eyes, hands gripping the edge of the table to support her shaking body. “Fuck me harder.”

Satisfying the tight Thai girl was your favorite activity. Her pleasure became your only goal. Your motivation. Your balls slapped against her skin each time your cock dove into her pussy. The combination of her dripping pussy and the beads of sweat forming on her skin was a recipe for the most mind-boggling elation.

Her pussy eventually began to gush all over your cock, adding more of her natural lubricant which somehow barely made it easier to fuck her. She was tight. Each thrust took effort - true conviction. The wet slapping of skin on skin fueled your urges, kept you going, pushed you deeper than you thought possible, aided by her drenched body.

A singular word escaped her lips, a whisper that could be heard across the room and in every room, as her body fell backwards onto the table.

“Fuck.”

The readjustment of her position gave you the tiniest pause which you used to regain some semblance of control over your own orgasm. You took both of her ankles in your palms and lifted her legs up, resting them on your shoulders, before leaning forward slightly. With her legs to the roof, body bent almost in half, you resumed your work.

This new angle was perfect - evident by Lisa’s sudden onset of squeals. The barrage of shrieks attacked your ears as your cock rubbed against her most sensitive spot. You had learned what worked best on Lisa thanks to the excessive amount of experience the two of you had together, and this was exactly what she needed right now.

“I’m…”

“Me too,” you grunted in response before leaning forward, bending her body entirely in half, her thighs pressing against her abs. You leaned forward a bit more until your lips found her mouth.

As your tongue entered her mouth, you immediately realized your mistake; Her body had become too much for you. The sensation of her tight pussy had already pushed you dangerously close, but Lisa’s kiss launched you right over the edge with no chance for you to hold back. The last thing you could consciously do was latch onto Lisa’s body, allowing her vibrations to be felt directly on your skin.

The satisfaction of your cock filling Lisa’s pussy numbed your mind, your cum gushing deep inside her body. It was becoming difficult to continue, yet your hips kept thrusting on autopilot. Each spurt of cum was proceeded with another thrust. It almost felt embarrassing finishing this abruptly - but then you felt her.

Lisa’s pussy began squeezing your shaft. Perfectly timed, you thought to yourself as your hips tried their hardest to desperately continue pumping her tight pussy. It was, however, futile. Physically you had nothing left, and all you could do was lay there as Lisa’s pussy convulsed. It was like all your energy flew into Lisa’s body through your cum, now it was time to just enjoy Lisa’s body while having no control over your own.

Thankfully, based on the breaths she let into your mouth, she was in her own little world now. She rode it out for what felt like minutes, maybe even hours, probably not, pressing each individual nerve in your cock over and over with her tight warmth. When you eventually felt her body finally start to relax, finally start to calm down, you very carefully and slowly withdrew your cock, her pussy squeezing your exit, fighting to keep your softening shaft inside her.

Both of you desperately tried to catch your breath, gasping as if you ran marathons, still holding onto each other, your cum slowly leaking out of her. It took a moment, time you used to gently press your mouth against her warm skin.

“Can you… come with me… to the… office…?” Lisa panted, her chest heaving up and down on the table.

“Sure,” you answered between the kisses you were planting over Lisa’s neck, taking the second your lips left her neck to speak. “You’ve. Been. Excessively. Horny.”

“It’s…” Lisa sighed before mustering up the strength to pull herself up and sit straight. “It’s for Jisoo, she needs to tell you something.”

“Huh? Why didn’t she send me a message directly?” you asked while backing up slightly so that Lisa could hop off the table.

“Because it was my suggestion,” Lisa answered while taking a seat and pulling you closer to her.

“Suggestion for what?”

Lisa ignored the question as she became occupied with using your cock to probe the inside of her mouth.

“Lisa, what suggestion?” you repeated, flinching as your extremely sensitive tip hit the inside of her cheek.

“Can a girl suck some cock in peace?” she whined, brows furrowed in frustration as she glared up at you.

All you could do was chuckle at the absurdity.

“Thank you,” Lisa added cheerily before putting her lips against your shaft, licking up whatever combination of fluids had accumulated.

Her lust for your cock was probably one of her most endearing qualities. She could never have enough, once a day wasn’t even enough. Rarely did you sleep without Lisa at least giving you a blowjob, it was like she needed your cum to survive. You couldn’t help but feel your insides warm up at the sight of her cute little tongue poking away at your tip.

“Mwah!” she exaggerated a final kiss on your cock before smiling brightly up at you, finally content. “Now, what were you asking me?”

“The suggestion?”

“Oh, here let me show you,” she replied before opening her mouth wide and leaning over to throat your cock again.

“Lisa, seriously,” you stopped her with your hands.

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, crossing her arms. “Fine, she’ll tell you herself.”

“When do you have to get to the office?”

“Whenever I want, it’s not like we make music anymore.”

“Alright,” you sighed. “Since you already got me hard again…”

She laughed loudly before grabbing your cock in one hand and moving her lips forward.

“Now who’s excessively horny?” Lisa chuckled before slipping your cock down her neck in a single movement.

—

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. Loving the suit.”

“Rosie, it’s great to see you again,” you smiled as you entered the room. You gave her a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek before looking around. “Did Lisa send me to the wrong room? Where’s Jisoo?”

“Oh she’ll be right back,” Rosé replied. “I think she’s changing her dress.”

“Speaking of dresses, you look absolutely stunning right now,” you admired her long, strapless, black dress which showcased her frame beautifully with plenty of skin showing around her chest and hips as the fabric made an “x” across her torso.

“I decided I’d show myself off tonight, hopefully inspire some of the useless men to stop being so useless.”

“What’s happening tonight, why are you all getting so dressed up anyway?” you asked as you took her hand and made her twirl for you.

“Says the guy literally wearing a three piece,” Rosé shook her head playfully. “Did Lisa not tell you?”

“Nope, in her defense her mouth was pretty preoccupied this morning,” you replied. “All she said was to get dressed up.”

“Cheeky bastard,” Rosé laughed. “We’re going to another party tonight, to celebrate Jisoo’s news.”

“Oh right, I forgot they moved it to Friday,” you said, remembering the invite you received earlier this week. After getting your promotion, you were invited to the weekly party with full VIP access, but you haven’t attended one ever since that night you met Lisa. According to the girls, they generally weren’t worth it most of the time, not unless there was a special occasion.

Before the conversation could continue, the door swung open and Jisoo barged in. She had her head tilted while adjusting her earring, completely flustered but also unrealistically beautiful in her black and red dress.

“One simple request is all-” Jisoo began ranting before stopping in her tracks at the sight of you. She immediately forgot about whatever she was upset about and ran up to you, jumping into your arms. “Thank you for coming!”

“It’s my pleasure,” you said as her perfume hit your nose. She smelled even better than she looked right now, and you refused to let go of her as the flowery scent engulfed your senses.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it,” Rosé giggled before leaving the room, finally bringing you back to your senses and ending the embrace.

“I heard you had some news to share,” you said softly while holding Jisoo’s arms.

“The songs are done,” she beamed up at you, that contagious smile making your heart flutter.

“Songs? As in multiple? Already?”

“Two,” she announced happily.

“Jisoo, that's amazing!” you pulled her into another hug and started patting her back. “I’m so proud of you!”

“I still owe credit to you,” she giggled.

“Absolutely not,” you pulled apart and took hold of her hands. “This was all you.”

“Either way, you helped inspire the title track’s name,” she smiled warmly, giving your hands a little squeeze.

“How so?”

“You’ll find out when they come out,” she replied before leaning closer to you.

It was instinctual, for the first time since that party, your body met with Jisoo’s. Your lips pressed effortlessly against each other’s, the beautiful aroma she wore blessing your senses once more. It felt so right kissing Jisoo, an oddly unexplainable passion between your bond.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whispered right in front of her face as your lips parted.

She answered by leaning forward again, kissing you softly, her hand wrapping around the back of your shoulders, forcing your own hands to naturally grab her waist. The two of you kept the kiss going, even as you pushed back, now making her lean slightly backwards, keeping her body up with your hands.

The beautiful moment was shattered as the two of you jolted away from each other at the sound of a loud crash in the room. You both turned towards the noise to see Rosé awkwardly standing in front of a tipped chair.

“Oops,” she giggled, holding up her purse. “My bad, forgot my bag.”

Jisoo chuckled before letting go of your shoulders and walking over to the dresser in the corner of the room.

“Thanks again for coming, I’ll see you later tonight?” Jisoo asked, turning her head just slightly enough for you to see her side profile.

“Absolutely.”

—

“No random whores.”

“I would never.”

“If I find a single one putting her hands on you-”

“Sweetie, you’re the only whore I want,” you whispered mockingly, giving Lisa a small poke in the ribs.

“Not funny.”

“I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it,” you teased, leaning into her until she was on her back.

“Call me that again and you won’t be touching any girls tonight,” Lisa glared at you, trying to stop herself from laughing as your fingers attacked her sides.

“Don’t worry, if she won’t let you have fun, you can always spend time with me,” Jennie interjected from across the limo.

“Is that so?” you chuckled, sitting back up and turning to look at Jennie. “You make it sound like you’re the one doing me the favor, as if it’s not the other way around?”

“Please, I’ll have a line of men waiting for me the second I enter this stupid event,” Jennie scoffed, crossing her arms. “I don’t need you.”

“Sure, but we both know you’re going to be complaining about each and every one of them.”

“Absolutely not.”

“You will,” Rosé chimed in from her seat next to Jennie. “We’ve all heard it before, and then you’re probably going to be begging for him to put it in your ass again.”

“What are you-” Jennie’s face turned bright red.

“You wouldn’t stop talking about that night for days after the last party we went to,” Rosé continued nonchalantly, taking a sip of champagne. “Oh Lisa when are you bringing him around again… Lisa is he coming tonight… Lisa-”

“Shut up,” Jennie cut her off, trying to hide her embarrassment desperately, but even in the dimly lit limo it was clear as day. “You complain about them just as much as I do.”

“Begging, you say?” your lips curled up at the sides, trying to stifle your laughs. “I like the sound of that.”

“I was not begging.”

“She was,” Rosé and Lisa both said in unison.

“That’s adorable,” you teased, holding your hand against your chest. “I’m touched.”

“Not begging.”

“So you’re saying you don’t want me to spend time with you tonight?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Jennie quickly replied, perhaps a bit too quickly, the blush on her cheeks burning redder.

“What are you saying exactly?” you smirked at her.

“I…” she froze, too embarrassed to finish her sentence.

“I wanna hear this begging, maybe then you’ll get what you want,” you laughed, enjoying every second of Jennie’s embarrassment. “Maybe.”

Jennie’s shoulders slumped forward as she left out a hefty sigh before mustering up some strength and sitting up straight.

“Oh my God, pick literally anyone else, why do you have to take my entertainment,” Lisa laughed, sitting back up and leaning her head on your shoulder.

“Is that what I am, your entertainment?” you responded while reaching your arm around her body, moving her face from your shoulder to your chest.

“Yes, exactly,” she replied immediately before turning back to Jennie. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“Go on,” Jennie leaned back against her seat, just as curious as you were about what Lisa had in mind.

“He can have my blessing to do whatever he wants with you tonight,” Lisa continued. “If you let him finish on your face before we enter tonight.”

Rosé nearly threw her flute in an attempt to prevent a spill as she burst out laughing, quickly covering her mouth.

“Lisa! There are always cameras waiting outside, I can’t do that,” Jennie protested.

“Then keep your head down,” Lisa giggled, rubbing her hand on your crotch. “As long as there’s a fresh load plastered all over your face, I’m happy.”

“It’s not like it’ll be the only load on your face tonight,” Rosé snickered, finally composing herself enough to speak up. “Lisa, I think it’s a great idea.”

“Thanks Rosie,” Lisa smiled. “So, what do you say?”

“I am not leaving this limo with cum on my face.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to find your own entertainment tonight,” Lisa taunted, rubbing her hand on your crotch. “This one’s all mine.”

“Oh come on, it’s like a two second walk to the door and we all try to hide our faces anyway,” Rosé attempted to convince her. “No one’s even going to see anything.”

“It just feels so wrong,” Jennie sighed, looking directly at you. “You’re fine with this? Knowing if people see me leave this limo with my face plastered and only one man gets out with me…”

Without even responding, you turned to Lisa and gave her a kiss.

“That answers that,” Rosé giggled.

“Lisa are you fucking serious, this is what you want?”

“I don’t remember stuttering,” Lisa replied casually. “Come on, we’re not even that far, the clock is ticking.”

“Unbelievable,” Jennie muttered as she got off her seat and onto her knees in front of you. She reached forward for your buckle when your hands instinctively grabbed her. “How can you possibly be shy, you have literally fucked each of us,” Jennie laughed.

“Multiple times,” Rosé chimed in, leaning back, all excited for the upcoming show.

“I’m not shy, I just-”

“Look at me,” Lisa whispered, each syllable dripping with sensualism, as she gently used her hand to turn your face towards her. “Keep your eyes on mine the whole time,” she commanded, eye contact locked on you. With one hand she motioned for Jennie to get started. “Don’t look at her even a single time.”

As Jennie started to undo your pants and pull them down to your knees, you followed Lisa's instructions and kept your eyes locked on hers. You didn't even look when you felt fingers clutch your shaft or when Jennie's tongue made contact with your cock a second later.

Her eyes remained fixed on you. That expression, so dispassionate, gave you the impression that she was in charge - not the girl sucking your cock. You met her gaze with a direct stare. Only when you weren't actively pushing your cock into her could you see the sweet, loving, and caring side of Lisa. The side of Lisa you could see behind her warm eyes.

It seemed as though you raised your hands to her face in silence. The infrequent slurps from Jennie's mouth were less noticeable than Lisa's lips, which were what truly captured your attention. Those velvety lips that begged for more. She leaned forward into you as you leaned forward - something Lisa never instructed you to do, something she didn’t need to tell you.

When your lips met, your eyes instinctively closed. Lisa didn't object; she kissed you back with the same fervor. Your whole body started to heat up, whether it was the kiss, the girl on her knees between your legs, or perhaps the alcohol was catching up to you. In reality, you knew Lisa’s passion was the cause.

Jennie’s slurps were becoming overwhelmingly loud. Your cock was completely covered in her saliva as she used her mouth to play with your tip while her hand stroked you as fast as she could. She knew you were getting close, she could feel it, and she was right.

There was no way your cock would hold on much longer, especially not while Lisa’s tongue invaded your mouth. For the second time today, kissing Lisa was going to launch you right over the edge, shattering any hopes of extending the current situation. You waved your arm in Jenne’s direction, barely making contact with her head.

She understood the cue and took her mouth off your tip, keeping pace with her hand as she tilted her face towards the roof of the limo. She held herself perfectly steady in your peripheral vision, struggling to keep a solid grip on your cock thanks to all the spit she had left on it.

Lisa could also feel your climax coming as she let go of you and went back to staring directly into your eyes. Her hand reached down, joining Jennie’s hand, and started to fondle your balls.

That was it, that did it for you.

Even without seeing it, you knew that first gush of cum made a line all the way across Jennie’s face. The shocked squeal she let out also confirmed it. Your cock started pulsing, unloading the warm cum presumably all over Jennie’s face. You kept pumping away, while staring Lisa in the eyes, her deadly gaze had softened considerably and she was even smiling warmly now. As the final dribbles of cum spilled out of your cock, you felt Jennie’s hand leave your shaft.

“Go ahead and look at your masterpiece,” Lisa whispered, her hand still fondling your balls.

In front of you, with her eyes still closed, was Jennie with her face shining. There were linear streaks of white all over her face, with a considerable amount getting into her hair. You didn’t realize just how big of a load you blew onto her face it was until now.

“Wow,” you muttered softly, earning a laugh from Rosé who you just now noticed was using a tissue to wipe her arm. “Did I?”

“Yes you did,” Rosé snapped immediately before laughing again.

“Don’t wipe any of it off,” Lisa instructed Jennie before bending over your lap and going for any of the white mess that didn’t make it onto Jennie’s face.

“I fucking hate you,” Jennie whined, looking at herself on her phone. “You got so much into my hair.”

“S-Sorry,” you gasped, Lisa’s tongue offering no reprieve as it attacked your sensitive tip.

“He’s not sorry at all,” Rosé added between laughs. “Look at him, he’s ready to give you round two.”

“My fault,” Lisa smirked as she sat back up, holding your once-again erect cock in her hand. “We’ll have to deal with this later, we’re here.”

-

“That was humiliating,” Jennie whined, touching up her makeup after tossing away the tissues she used to wipe her face clean. “I think one of them saw.”

“It wasn’t even that bad,” Rosé giggled, handing Jennie a brush for her hair. “And there’s no way anyone saw, I’ve never seen you run that fast in my life.”

“Are you kidding? Did you hear the shit they were saying,” Jennie grumbled. “It’s fine when I’m inside, but who knows who those people out there are, they don’t get to see me like that.”

“They weren’t saying anything, calm down.”

“I’m sorry babe,” Lisa purred as she gently stroked your cock. “I know what can make you feel better though.”

“I’m not even in the mood anymore,” Jennie scoffed, putting the brush down.

“Jennie? Are you actually upset?” Lisa asked, pausing her handjob, suddenly full of concern.

“She’s just being dramatic,” Rosé chuckled before grabbing Jennie’s hand. “Come on, let’s go get you some alcohol,” she added as she pulled Jennie out of the room. She paused at the door to look back at you and Lisa with a wink.

“She’s fine,” you tried to reassure Lisa as she looked at you.

“You’re probably right,” she sighed. “But you should not be able to speak right now,” she added before replacing her graceful strokes with aggressive pumps. “Come on baby, cum for me.”

The next couple of minutes were a blur. You remembered her hand, you remembered her kissing your neck, but nothing else was in your head right until you felt warmth shooting out of your cock.

“Lisa,” you huffed, turning to the girl as she wiped her hand clean. “You sure you’re okay with me fooling around with her tonight?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” she cocked an eyebrow at you.

“Just making sure, I’ve never done anything without your permission before.”

“Right… and you have my permission tonight,” Lisa replied slowly, smiling in a confused manner at you. “I know it’s a bit unorthodox, but really I wouldn’t put you in this situation if I wasn’t okay with it.”

“Unorthodox…” you repeated slowly. “Sometimes I wonder how I lucked out so hard to have such a wild life,” you laughed, grabbing Lisa by her waist.

“It’s not that wild,” Lisa giggled as you pulled her close. “A bit of meaningless fucking never hurt anyone.”

“Speaking of meaningless fucking…”

“Not yet,” Lisa stopped you as you kissed her neck.

“Whoa, did baby girl just say no to sex? There’s really a first for everything.”

“I did not say no,” Lisa scoffed. “I just don’t want my makeup all messed up just yet,” she added coyly.

“Who said I have to mess up your makeup?”

“I did, because that’s exactly what you’re going to do later tonight when you fuck my throat.”

“You’re going to say that and then keep me waiting.”

“You just came twice in like fifteen minutes, a break wouldn’t hurt,” Lisa laughed as she wiped you clean with a tissue.

“As if that’s out of the norm,” you chuckled. “How about I eat you out.”

“That’s a nice offer, but we’ll do all that properly later tonight,” Lisa giggled before getting up and running to the door. “Go find where those two just went, or look for Jisoo, she’s probably bored out of her mind being here all alone for so long. I gotta meet up with a couple of my friends, they said they’d be here.”

“Wait, you want me… without you?”

“Why are you pretending like you forgot how to use your dick,” Lisa chuckled, wearing a confused expression again as she looked at you.

“Lisa…” you paused to stand up and walk over to her. “Ever since that night I met you, I’ve never touched any of them without you being there.”

She gave you a small bend of her head and the cutest eyes in the world.

“Baby,” she hesitated. “I’ve never thought about that, but you’re right.”

“Are you still fine with it?”

“Of course,” Lisa smiled warmly. “I guess you’re unofficially joining our agreement, nothing that happens at these parties can be held against you. Only my bandmates though, I meant what I said about no random whores.”

“I’m fine with that,” you leaned forward and kissed her cheek before grabbing a handful of her ass. “I’m going to be thinking of you the whole time though.”“Awhh baby, that sounds so wrong, but it’s strangely sweet,” Lisa giggled, wrapping her arms around your neck. “And all night I’m going to be thinking of how you’re going to fuck my throat later.”

---

A/N:

Honestly, ending this chapter way earlier than I had planned because I want to try staying near that 5k word mark, and there wouldn't be a better place to pause. I have the entire plan for the next chapter already good to go, just gotta finish writing it, all I'll say is next chapter will most likely be when some stupid romantic lovey-dovey bs happens, and obviously more smut.

Now the thing that everyone keeps asking me. "WHEN ARE YOU UPDATING, WHEN IS NEW CONTENT COMING, WHERE ARE YOU". I am still alive <3, I've been trying to update you guys when I can, I'm still just busy with life. I don't have much time to work on my writing nowadays, but let me try giving you an update. I know this chapter is going to feel kinda short, just bear with me! Hopefully the next chapter will come out with a shorter break!

Currently still working on like 5 different pieces. My next upload might just be the next chapter of this story. If not this story, my guess would be Karina (+Winter). Very unlikely the Twice story will get an update next, and somewhat unlikely the LSFM story will get an update next. It's possible, but those two stories get a bit more effort on my end in terms of long-term plot, so it'll depend on how much time and energy I have to write.

As always, feel free to give any feedback you feel like giving. I still value it, even though this hobby is taking a bit of a back seat for me. I am fairly certain the quality of writing is not as good, but it's okay, I know I'm busy and it's just a casual way for me to release some of my horniness into the world. I don't take this hobby too seriously!

[nburkhardt]

Was at Disneyland today and had a thought:

Disney cast member Steve being the one to escort Corroded Coffin & family around the parks. He’s trying very hard to stay professional and not give into Eddie Munson’s flirting.

He manages to make it the whole day with it, even if he really wants to. Steve isn’t ashamed to admit that he finds Eddie hot (he especially loves the pet names that fly out of the man’s mouth “hello honey pie!”)

The real problem is the next day, because of course the band has a multiple day pass. Normally Steve switches between jobs/areas, he was supposed to be working with Robin at Haunted Mansion, even already wearing the uniform when he gets told that he was requested by the band (more importantly: Eddie requested him)

Luckily he has another uniform with him and changes, apologies to Robin about her having to work with Keith again before heading to meet up with the band again.

But at the meet up point, he finds only Eddie there. With a lousy excuse for the other guys not being there. (they didn’t want to spend another day watching Eddie flirt, they went to Knott’s Berry Farm instead)

Steve is still professional though, because he doesn’t want to lose his job (Robin would kill him, especially since she keeps getting paired with Keith when Steve’s somewhere else) So, instead of out right flirting, he does give change up the normal gimmick/speech and at the end of the day, pretends not to see Eddie slip his number to him.

(It comes out months later on twitter. Fans go wild and try finding Steve at the parks not realizing he and Robin no longer work there. The two of them being folded into Corroded Coffin’s PR team instead.)

~

… please don’t ask me what cast members do when they escort people around. I’ve never done that. I just saw a few groups of people with one and thought “that would be a fun fic idea” and well, I’m heading home now and decided to write this out hahaha. If anyone wants they can use this!

Taglist under the cut! (Also in the replies)

@spectrum-spectre @itsfreakingbats @mysticcrownshipper @artiststarme @thereindeerlady @justforthedead89 @ronniescontinuum @freyaforestafay @littlewildflowerkitten @estrellami-1 @gregre369 @zerokrox-blog @bookworm0690 @flustratedcas @carlprocastinator1000 @marvelmwah @solliesolesito @navnae @i-less-than-three-you @grimmfitzz @strangersteddierthings

[nereidprinc3ss]

okay i know this is kind of a specific request but can you do something with professor Spence and uni reader where they get into a spat and argue bc she did something stupid and he gets mad and she’s like “noooo pls don’t be mad i hate when you’re mad at me I’m sorry🥺” bc she literally cannot function knowing she let him down (me with everybody) but he’s like super stubborn and goes all closed up and quiet so that he doesn’t like blow up on her until she finally says like “pls talk to me” and he’s all pissed and like “hell na bitch u crazy!🗣️‼️” but then later he’s like “it’s ok i love u but neva do that shit again ho” then they make up and it’s good again 🎀 ok i explained that so poorly (and comedically if i may) but i hope u get it and pls make it SO DRAMATIC bc I live for drama! like she steals test answers or something or does something that could like get her kicked out of school OR him lose his job 🤔 sigh … idk I’m leaving now. Also i LOOPOOOCE ORRKGOOVI love your fics. Luv em

hey girl (gender neutral) this made me laugh bc genuinely sometimes i write spencer so ooc that is what he sounds like. and i'm not sorry! anyway this is potentially a vyvanse fueled nightmare but i wrote it and i'm posting it MY BLOG MY RULES BITCHESSSS!!!! but genuinely read the content warning LMAO this one got a lil kick to it

warnings/tags: ANGST, HURT/COMFORT, fem!reader, spencer and r get into a for real argument like they're mean to each other, spencer is a lil toxic but its resolved, emotionally neglects reader just for a teeensy second but then he's really nice and sweet again, discussion of his past addic+ion, gets fluffy because i'm not EVIL, gets suggestive at the end bc i am secretly evil.......

a/n: i don't know whats happening. this confuses me just as much as it confuses you. its 3 am in the morning. im gonna post nice happy things soon. Gootbye

“I cannot believe you right now. I don’t even—I don’t even know what to say.” 

“Spencer, you don’t have to say anything. It has nothing to do with you, and I’m not looking for your approval.” 

He looks up from where he’d been rubbing his temples, like you’re a headache, eyebrows raised and lips parted in indignant disbelief. 

“Oh! You’re not looking for my approval? Well thank god for that, because if you were one of my students I would recommend expulsion to the board.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me? I just said I don’t care about your opinion on this, much less your hypothetical opinion from some alternate universe where you have any authority over my education whatsoever.” 

“You distributed an answer key to half of your class! Objectively this is the kind of thing that gets people expelled. I don’t understand how someone so smart could do something so fucking stupid.” 

The words bite more than you were prepared for—but what hurts even more is how much he seems to mean them. In arguments past you’d both said things you didn’t mean, and then would immediately melt into I’m so sorry’s and the fight would resolve itself. Spencer’s clenched jaw and inability to make eye contact with you do not lend themselves to tender apologies. They cannot be attributed to miscommunication. 

You take a step closer to where he’s bracing himself against the countertop, arms crossed defensively in front of your chest. 

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I didn’t think it was such a big deal. People cheat in college all the time.” 

Still no reply. His head shakes so minutely you wonder if you’re imagining it. Panic wells in your chest. 

“Please talk to me. I really hate when you ice me out. I’m sorry, okay? Just... please say something.” 

Finally, his eyes slide to you. They lack the fiery anger of moments ago but there’s not much softness there either. His normally warm gaze now feels too abrasive, too cold and sharp on your bare skin. You're exposed, much too soft for that grating look, and it feels like he can see everything that’s wrong with you. 

“Believe me when I tell you this. I am doing us both a favor by not speaking to you right now.” 

And then he’s leaving the kitchen—nothing but a breeze against your cheek and the sound of a door slamming to prove he was ever there. 

The apartment is silent. You stand in the middle of the kitchen, unsure of what to do next. Spencer very, very rarely gets angry at you to the point of neglect, and you know he’s doing his best with what was modelled for him as a child and his tendency to feel things so deeply it’s nearly disabling; but that doesn’t make it hurt much less. It doesn’t make you feel less abandoned or alone.  

You’re sad, and you’re still pissed, and maybe you’re in just a bit of shock as you robotically move back to your nest of blankets on the couch and resume your schoolwork. What else is there to do? Unless Spencer is right—unless you really are about to get expelled after getting the answer key for an upcoming test from a friend, who then gave it to another friend, and so on. But is that really your fault?  

It’s a struggle to stay focused as your mind keeps drifting back to Spencer in the other room, those cruel words and that cold steely look in his eye that isn’t supposed to ever be aimed at you. It’s not a secret that side of him exists, but it doesn’t belong in this apartment. It’s not something he needs to use against you. He’s supposed to be on your side. But instead, he’d said you should be expelled and essentially called you stupid. And now you’re doing homework for a class at a school you may not even be a student of come Monday. 

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

The sound of the office door opening forty-five minutes later spikes your blood pressure and simultaneously makes your heart flutter, because no matter how mad at him you might be, Spencer is still Spencer.  

He comes to stand behind the couch quietly, but you don’t acknowledge him. Maybe your typing gets a bit more aggressive, but aside from that you flat out reject his presence. 

“Can we talk?” 

You let him sweat for a minute as you finish your paragraph. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Can we? Or are you not done with your temper tantrum?” 

“That is... well deserved,” he sighs, rounding the couch and tapping the bottom of your foot, signaling that he wants you to move your legs. You despise how automatically you comply, pulling your knees to your chest to avoid touching him as he sits next to you. There’s a long moment of silence, in which you resume typing. Spencer scoffs, leaning in slightly to peer at your screen. “Are you doing homework right now? I’m a complete asshole to you and you just... do your homework?"

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?” you almost-yell, slamming your laptop shut and blinking away potential tears. “The only person I wanted to talk to called me stupid and fucking left!” 

The tears realize their potential once you admit the blunt truth. 

Spencer carefully moves your laptop and pulls you into his arms—and you just let him. There’s not much fight left in you. There wasn’t a lot to begin with. 

“I am so sorry, angel. You’re right, I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have yelled, I shouldn’t have said what I said, I shouldn’t have walked away. I overreacted.” 

“Yeah, you really did,” you cry, allowing him to run his hand over your hair. “Why did you do that? Why were you so fucking mean?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he responds, betraying his own anxieties, and a new, unwelcome sense of trepidation slithers through your veins. 

“I was wondering that, too. Even as I was saying it, I knew—I knew it wasn’t what I wanted to be saying. And then I was in the other room and I wanted to be out here, and I couldn’t figure out why I wasn’t. But I think I was just scared. Which—I know, doesn’t really make sense, but... I think about when Ethan dropped out of the academy, and ended up doing heroin in New Orleans for three years, and I think about when I almost left the BAU because I was so convinced I’d never get clean that I didn’t even want to anymore, and—and the idea of you losing your education and your direction like that terrified me, probably unreasonably, and I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 

“But I’m not like you or Ethan. You don’t have to worry about that. Even if I... even I do get in some sort of disciplinary trouble. That’s a road you don’t have to worry about me going down, ever.” 

He fixes some unseen wrinkle on your shirt.  

“Yeah, but, remember... I used to not be like me or Ethan either. Do you think twelve-year-old Spencer would have ever even considered that of the infinite realities and universes which exist, he was living in one where someday he’d be shooting up in the bathroom at work?” 

“Mm-mm,” you hum, shaking your head and burying your face in Spencer’s shoulder. The sound is more of a plea for him to be less descriptive than an answer to his rhetorical question. It’s still much easier for him to talk about that part of his life than it is for you to have to actually imagine it. You didn’t know him then, but you’ve seen pictures, and you know Spencer now, and it’s... it’s just too much. Too sad. 

“Okay,” he agrees soothingly, still playing with your hair. “I digress. My point is that literally anything is possible, and while it’s not necessarily likely, I more than anyone know that anxiety even over the most improbable of things is never completely unfounded.”  

You sniffle in response, too emotionally and physically exhausted to contribute much to the conversation by this point. Thankfully, Spencer can talk for two. An idiosyncrasy which you love and comes in handy every once in a while. He can play his own devil’s advocate; in this case, you. 

“But that doesn’t mean I get to take it out on you. Ever. I truly, truly, sincerely apologize for that. I never want to hurt you.” 

You let the apology sink into your skin like a salve, soothing every abrasion those earlier words had left in their violent wake. 

After a few minutes, you find the energy to ask a question that might best remain unanswered. 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

He’s quiet for a beat, seemingly contemplative as his fingers trace abstract patterns in a language all his own on your arm. 

“I’m not thrilled. But you were right earlier. It’s not my place to be mad at you for something like that.” 

“Mm... it’s a little bit your place. You’re an actual professor.” 

He chuckles. 

“At an entirely different university.” 

“Thank god,” you laugh. “You and me at the same school would be such an HR clusterfuck.”

While it’s almost a serious matter, the smile in his voice is evident. 

“Yeah... I, uh... try not to think about it.” 

“Okay, but seriously. In your professional opinion. Am I fucked? Like, do I need to prepare an appeal and character witnesses or whatever?” 

Spencer sighs. 

“It was incredibly reckless and irresponsible. You should be ready for disciplinary pushback from the schoolboard if you get caught. That being said... because over sixty of you got a hold of the answer key, I doubt anyone is getting expelled, and even if they did, it would likely only be the TA and the student he gave the key to. It’s my tentative, professional opinion that you’ll probably be fine.” 

You relax slightly, allowing a tension you didn’t realize was there to shed like an old skin. 

“I’m not gonna cheat again,” you promise on an exhale. It’s simply too much risk for too little reward.

Spencer’s response is quiet, and comes much faster than you’d expected. 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. Because if you do, you’re going to have to worry about disciplinary action from me. And I’m not nearly as nice as the dean of your school, darling girl.” 

But something about the way he says it—a thinly veiled threat/promise contrasted by a sweet kiss to your forehead—doesn’t exactly make academic honesty look all that exciting.

[stinkyme]

Hello! One anon on here as well as the user on AO3 asked for a Fyodor version, so I wrote it. I hope yall like it and enjoy it! :)

CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader, jealousy (sort of), established relationship, orgasm denial, edging, clit slapping, Fyodor uses "dear" for reader at the times, slight degrading, name calling (brat, whore, dumb little thing), slight dumbification when Fyodor makes reader spell out his name while using toys on them, toys usage (dildo, clit sucker), slight dacryphilia, needy!reader, clueless!reader, reader has good intentions that come off wrong, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration (p in v), apologizing and reassurance (reader), creampies, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)

* I made the reader to be a bit clueless, not genuinely wanting to make Fyodor jealous because I feel like if he knew the intention - he wouldn't play into it, given his issues with trusting people in general. So I think even in this writing, he is so more offended due to the "disrespect" and unaware that reader is actually trying to praise him...just in a wrong way, lol

** Also, I kinda dig the idea of bimbo/himbo/clueless reader and Fyodor ngl…. :3

I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)

Jealousy sex || Fyodor Dostoevsky x Reader

"So, he actually got you this time?" you ask in a slightly confused tone as you sit on the empty table that was connected to the one with Fyodor's computer on it. You swing your legs a little bit as you watch him type in some things, not looking at you.

"I am afraid so. But not to worry, it will work out perfectly for me." he replies in his regular, silk-like voice, looking at you for a moment.

"Mm…" you let out as you think.

"What's his name again?" you ask, tilting your head a bit.

"Dazai Osamu." he says in a normal tone as he continues working.

"Never heard of him." you let out a disinterested tone, looking to the side for a moment.

"But he seems quite smart." you continue, reverting your gaze towards Fyodor again.

"That he is." he nods as he continues typing on a keyboard.

"He may even be able to beat you, perhaps he is smarter than you are!" you say with a bit too much enthusiasm for Fyodor's liking. He shoots you a quick, sharper gaze.

"Oh?" he lets out in a deeper, lower tone.

"Yeah! Man, now I wish I met the guy who can toy with you like this." you slap your thighs a bit, smiling at Fyodor. His face twitches in mixture of annoyance and disgust.

"Toy...with me?" he asks in a low tone.

"Duh! I mean he won, didn't he? And now look at you, gotta work so hard to keep up!" you say in an upbeat tone, leaning your body a bit backwards as you use your hands to support yourself from behind.

"He won this once and it was part of the plan-" he begins explaining to you in a calmer, more collected tone.

"Dude is a genius! Let me see his photo." you cut him off, jumping off of the table. Fyodor's eyebrows narrow in irritation, but he sighs out as he gets the file of Dazai's past. You take the paper, eyes quickly running over the unimportant information as your gaze falls back on Dazai's picture.

"Hm...his hair is a bit weird, but I like the waviness. He seems handsome! Is he also like this in real life?" you ask, excitement evident in your voice.

"I don't think that is necessary information." Fyodor says in a colder tone, furrowing his eyebrows.

"It's not, you are right. But genius who can possibly beat you and good looking! I gotta go and tell this to Nikolai and Sigma!" you say in an elevated tone as you drop the file of Fyodor's table, giving a quick kiss on his cheek.

"That's for good luck! Here is another one. You have to keep on working hard to keep up with him!" you say happily as you kiss his other cheek, quickly leaving the room afterwards. Fyodor's gaze is still irritated, but he sighs out as he has things to do. He will deal with you later.

~ That night

Fyodor slides your panties down your legs, softly caressing sides of your legs while doing so. He brushes his cold knuckles over your clit and wet inner lips, making you shiver. He begins rubbing little, slow circles on your clit with his fingertips and you let out a breathy moan as he does. He inserts two of his other fingers inside your dripping cunt, gently sliding them in and out of you. The coldness of his slender fingers sends shivers up your spine, a knot of tingles forming in your lower tummy.

You let out a few softer moans as you spread your legs more for him. Fyodor curls his fingers a bit, rubbing your sensitive spot inside as the fingertips on your clit keep the slow, almost teasing pace. You sigh out in bliss, clenching your pussy around his fingers a bit as the sweet pleasure relaxes you. You roll your hips a bit as you feel precum gliding down your sensitive walls and Fyodor lets out a chuckle upon the sensation on his own fingers. Precum just keeps on leaking down your pretty cunt as Fyodor keeps up a soft, gentle pace with both - circles on your clit and little thrusts of his fingers.

"Quite needy tonight, aren't you?" he asks in a silvery, breathy tone.

"Maybe a little bit." you respond softly with a little smile, feeling the warmth spread in waves inside your lower tummy.

"Shall I give you more then?" he leans in, slowly kissing below your chest. He trails the kisses around the area of your ribcage, covering both sides of your body in a sloppy, unhurried pace. He moves his attention to your tummy, kissing as low as he can reach in one straight line. He sneaks in a few small licks in-between the kisses as he keeps on pleasuring you with his fingers. Your cunt squeezes around him as you keep on letting soft breaths out, his cold lips making nice balance to your warm body.

"Please do." you finally reply as you nod and he speeds up the pace of his fingers inside you just for a few seconds, pressuring your g-spot and squeezing a louder moan out of your throat. He moves his fingertips away from your clit and extracts his fingers out of your pussy. Then, he quickly positions himself between your legs, gently hugging your hips and ass with his hands. He begins slowly kissing your lower tummy, moving to your inner thighs as he places a few more soft kisses on each. He gives your clit a swift, unexpected kitten lick with the tip of his cold tongue, barely touching it.

You let out a soft moan as your hips quiver for a moment. He slowly moves up, leaning away from your needy cunt. He pulls his boxers down and he strokes his cock couple of times. He lets out a thicker string of spit fall directly on his palm and he continues stroking it, a shaky whimper escaping his lips.

"I must admit, I am feeling quite needy myself, do you mind?" he asks you in a whiny, but still silky, somewhat steady tone as he aligns his cock with your entrance. He trembles upon feeling the warm precum touch the tip of his cock. You shake your head, smiling at him.

Of course you don't mind. This man has such a low libido lately that you dream of moments like these. However, you can't help but wonder what got him worked up?

Your thoughts are cut short as he makes a long, heavy thrust inside of you, his hands falling next to each side of your head. You let out a quick gasp as the tips of Fyodor's eyebrows furrow upwards, a soft, prolonged whine escaping his throat. He begins slowly thrusting in and out of you. Each stroke is long. The tip of his cock only stays inside your needy cunt before he slowly slides it back in, making sure you feel every inch until he reaches the deepest spot. Your hands find their way to Fyodor's waist, gently sliding down to his hips and back to his waist as he keeps slowly rolling his hips into yours. Fyodor lets out shaky breaths in and out, his body trembling already. Your little whimpers mix up with his sounds as you roll your hips a bit, too wet and needy to cum. You slide one of your hands away from his waist, bringing it between your legs to play with your clit.

He leans his face closer to yours, placing shaky, sloppy kisses over your jaw. His thrusts are still slow, but perfectly stimulating your g-spot. Alongside your own fingers circling on your clit, your orgasm builds up rather quickly. You feel him leaking precum inside your cunt, sending shivery tingles throughout your whole body. Your free hand moves away from his waistline, up to his chest, your fingertips pressing into it.

He keeps on kissing your jaw for a little longer before he gives attention to the side of your neck, biting into it before he starts placing soft kisses.

You let out soft whimpers more frequently as Fyodor's shaky, warm breath spreads over your skin he was just kissing. You feel your lower tummy tense up as your orgasm slowly makes its first waves. Your thighs quiver around Fyodor's slow hips and he lets out a moan into your neck as he feels your cunt clenching around him. He suddenly speeds up his movement, breaking an upcoming orgasm as he roughly thrusts in and out of you. You let out a mixture of a pleased and annoyed moan as it feels good, but your orgasm got delayed. 

He moves his hand between your bodies, gently taking your wrist and pulling your hand away from your clit. He brings your hand next to your face, still holding it by its wrist.

"I let you play long enough. You know I dislike greedy brats." he whispers in your ear as he begins slamming his hips into yours even faster, his cock relentlessly stimulating your sensitive cunt. You keep letting gasps in and out from the suddenness, your breath cutting short each time his pelvic area slaps your pussy. He whimpers in your ear, silky sounds melting on your skin and sending tingles to your tummy.

You squeeze your legs around his hips, constant pleasure without an orgasm getting unbearable. Fyodor lets out more frequent whimpers and whines, his cock twitching inside of you as he keeps up his heavy pace. His grip on your wrist tightens as his pace becomes a bit messy, breathy moans sending shivers down your spine. You let out soft moans, your eyebrows twitching and eyes rolling back into your head.

You want to cum so badly, clenching around his cock desperately. Your desperation just sends him over the edge, a few loads of cum filling you up suddenly. He shakily pulls out, breathing heavily as some of the cum slides down your inner lips. A tingling sensation makes you quiver as you tighten around nothing, producing a bit louder, wet sounds.

Fyodor leans away from you, calming down from his release. He slowly gets up and starts getting dressed. You sit up, evidently deprived and annoyed.

"What do you think you are doing?" you ask in an accusatory tone. Fyodor just gives you a sharp look, but his lips curl into a sly smile.

"Do you think that's a smart way to talk to me?" he asks in a tone as sly as his smile. He puts on his pants as he walks up to you, placing his hand on your cheek.

"You have been quite disrespectful lately. Do you think you deserve to cum?" he whispers as he keeps on stroking your cheek.

"When have I been disrespectful?" you ask, slightly confused as you feel your core burning with a need for release.

"Many times. Many more than I approve of, that is." he says in a faintly sharper tone.

"Now, don't be a greedy brat and go to sleep. I have things to keep working on." he says as he gently pats the top of your head, sliding his fingers through your hair after.

"Oh right! You have that genius dude to catch up to!" you suddenly remember, exclaiming your words enthusiastically.

"Work hard and you will get there!" you nod slightly, happily smiling. Fyodor's face twitches in annoyance. 

Just how oblivious can you be?

He swiftly grabs a handful of your hair from where his hand was resting on top of your head, making you gasp in. His free hand spreads your legs. He inserts two of his fingers inside your dripping cunt, pumping them in and out in a relentlessly agonizing pace. You let out quick, sharp moans as your lower tummy begins to hurt from stimulation, but lack of release of any sort. Little tears roll down your cheeks as it becomes unbearable.

"Does it hurt?" he asks with no sympathy whatsoever, on the contrary, his voice hints at slight sadism and pleasure. You barely nod and he lets a soft breath out, almost a chuckle. 

"It should." he says in a colder tone, his gaze sharp and sly. He quickly extracts his fingers and taps your lips. You open up and begin sucking on them, cleaning up the mess he made inside you before.

"Enough. Now go to sleep or do whatever, as long as you are not touching yourself or messing up my work. Understood?" he whispers as he abruptly takes his fingers out of your mouth. He lets go of your hair and you almost fall down on the bed.

"Understood." you say quietly as you play with your fingers. 

"Don't be disappointed now, I will reward you once I teach you how to behave properly again." he sighs out with a little grin as he puts his usual top on. With that being the last thing he says to you, he leaves the room. You keep on pouting for a little longer before you drop on the bed, sighing out. Trying to think of what you've done wrong, eventually you fall asleep, still painfully needy for a release.

~ Next day

You wake up with an urge to cum, already messing up with your day. As you go to the bathroom to wash up, you keep thinking about what you possibly could have done wrong. As you leave the bathroom, Fyodor walks in the room quietly, slowly closing the door behind himself.

"Oh, you are awake." he notices, his gaze falling down on your still nude body.

"So are you. Didn't you sleep at all?" you ask as he sits down on the bed and you climb on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His fingertips brush over your hips as he closes his eyes.

"No, I didn't." he replies softly and you begin kissing his neck, shamelessly needy and careless for his current state.

"How emotionless and apathetic of you." he chuckles as he knows your neediness is currently taking control. 

"You are one to tell me that." you narrow your eyebrows at him as you move away from his neck.

"Ah, are you still mad about last night?" he says in a silvery tone, gently sliding his palms down your thighs. You nod as you begin grinding your hips on him.

"I am tired dear, I will play with you later." he says as he gently rolls you over, letting you sit next to him. He stands up and takes his coat off. You feel slightly annoyed again, but try to not think about the burning sensation in your lower tummy.

"So, did you make any progress?" you ask in a casual tone as you lay down on your side, resting your head on your arm.

"Yes, it's going smoothly so far." Fyodor nods, replying softly.

"Mm, that's good." you nod, smiling at him.

"But imagine, you winning against him would prove you are really smart." you say in a daydreaming tone which rubs Fyodor the wrong way.

Really smart? As in...he isn't the smart one? In that daydreamy, hopeful tone? Fyodor never lets people test his patience as much as he had let you the past few days. This had to be some sick joke played out by you or the higher forces. Do you want a reaction out of him so badly? Forget it.

"You know what? Since I am so tired, I may reach out to a few little helpers." he says in a lickerish, but more so irritated tone.

"Hm? You mean Nikolai and Sigma?" you lift your head, tilting it to the side a bit.

"...No." he says after a prolonged pause. Good God. Did you already forget? 

He reaches to the box where you kept a handful of toys. He takes out your favorite dildo, clit sucker and lube and walks up to you, dropping them in front of your face. You feel a warmth inside your tummy as Fyodor positions himself between your legs as you adjust your body for him. He lets a string of spit fall on your clit, sliding down to your inner lips as he gently rubs circles over them using his fingertips. You let out a soft moan as you let your head fall on the pillow. Fyodor opens the lube, squeezing a medium portion on his palm and begins rubbing the dildo, making it wet. He aligns it with your inner lips, gently thrusting half of it in and out. You feel goosebumps spread all over your body almost immediately. He starts thrusting the dildo in and out of you completely, its full length stimulating all of your sweet spots. You let out a few softer moans, your cunt already clenching around it.

Fyodor turns on the sucking toy and places it on your clit, immediately earning louder moans from you. The sensation makes you gasp, it's intense and it feels too good. You squeeze the sheets with your hands, body already trembling. Fyodor speeds up his movement, relentlessly sliding the dildo in and out of your sensitive pussy. Your cunt feels so full, your body feels so hot and your clit feels so nicely stimulated that it brings tears to your eyes. Your orgasm builds up quickly, short gasps escaping your throat as your body begins tensing up, besides your hips quivering from time to time. Fyodor keeps observing your reactions, eager to ruin them very soon.

You let out a little "please don't stop" as your orgasm reaches its edge, almost there. He swiftly removes the sucking toy and slows down the thrusts, ruining yet another orgasm of yours.

"Sorry dear, my hands got tired." he says in such an innocent tone, but you can't help your annoyance. You click your tongue as you sigh out, approaching orgasm completely melting away. 

"I seem to be quite weak, too." he emphasizes the last word and it flies over your head. He slowly starts thrusting the dildo, picking up the quick pace from before. You gasp in as it keeps stimulating your g-spot, making all sensations of an orgasm but not giving you one. Fyodor places the toy back on your clit and as soon as you gasp in, he pulls it away. He repeats this couple of times, edging your release with each time he does. You feel the frustrating warmth under your skin, soft moans and gasps mixing in with sounds of disappointments and neediness every time your release gets delayed.

Fyodor chuckles at your desperate state as he begins thrusting the dildo even faster, this time keeping the sucking toy longer on your clit. Your orgasm builds up quickly again, tingling warmth spreading inside your lower tummy. Your filthy sounds become louder and as soon as you are just about to cum, he pulls away the toy and keeps the dildo still inside of you.

"You are doing this on purpose!" you almost yell out, evidently frustrated.

"Not at all dear, I am simply too weak to give you what you need. Don't you feel any sympathy for such an incapable man like myself?" he says in a tone he uses when he so obviously toys with people. 

"Then give it to me! I will do it if you can't!" you say loudly, so needy for an orgasm.

"I can't do that, you dirty little brat." the emotions in his voice change as he says quite coldly and sharply. He starts pounding the dildo in and out of you again, abruptness making you gasp in as it feels too much.

"You are such an ungrateful little dumb thing." he says in a sharp tone, noticing your eyes fill up with tears as the sensations become overwhelming.

"You are going to cry again? How pathetic. You want my sympathies after treating me so disrespectfully? You truly are a little dumb whore." he speaks through relentlessly fucking you with a dildo, his voice irritated and heavy. You can't even speak up, choking on your own breath and sounds as the tears roll down your face.

"Spell my name. Now." he orders as he keeps going at a vigorous pace. Your mind feels cloudy and hazy.

"F-"

"Ah-" you moan and he immediately slaps your clit with his fingertips.

"Incorrect. Try again." he snickers.

"F…Y-, fuck!" you let out as he abruptly speeds up his movement, overstimulating your g-spot. He slaps your clit once again. The stinging sensation makes you quiver as your snivels fill up the room.

"Such a dumb whore you are." he says as he continues thrusting the dildo, not slowing down once. You can't think, forgetting the letters you've just spelt out for him.

"F..Y..D.-, ah!" another sharp moan of yours interrupts you as he hits your clit.

"Incorrect. You can't even spell my name, yet have the audacity to call me dumb." he emphasizes "me" and the sudden confusion makes you look at him weakly. 

"I have, fuck!-, I have never called you dumb!" you defend yourself through a shaky tone.

"No? Then what was all that talk filled with praise for my opponent and how I need to keep up?" he asks sharply as he slows the movement slightly, letting you speak.

"No! That's not what I meant! I just...I was surprised someone was near your level, not that he is smarter!" you somehow voice out your words.

"I am sorry! I really didn't mean anything rude, I was just trying to encourage you!" you gasp out as he stops moving the toy, keeping it still inside of your cunt.

"Is that so?" he asks, still not fully convinced.

"Yeah.., you've been working so hard..so I just wanted to help. Sorry for the confusion...and if I seemed impressed by him. I am impressed by you, so..I suppose it came out the wrong way." you say quietly, a bit embarrassed. Fyodor's gaze searches for any signs of lying, but he seems not to be able to find any. He sighs out.

"We really need to work on your communication skills and self expression." he says as he slides the toy out of your cunt, sudden emptiness making you let out a soft gasp. You keep observing Fyodor, an abrupt thought entering your mind. 

"Were you jealous?" you tilt your head, confused.

"Not at all, I simply don't take disrespect lightly which you are aware of by now." he says with a little smile as he positions himself between your legs.

"I think you were jealous." you tease him a little as he rolls the pants and boxers down his hips, exposing his hard, dripping cock.

"Suit yourself then." he says with a light chuckle. He aligns the tip of his cock with your entrance, sliding it inside easily. While doing so, he swiftly takes his top off, dropping it to the side. You let out a mellow whimper as he leans closer to you, placing faint kisses over your neck. His thrusts are soft and slow, making your aching pussy leak precum. Fyodor lets out a whimper, trembling lips barely touching your skin. 

"Do you forgive me?" you ask softly and he nods, shaky breath warming up your neck as he thrusts sloppily.

"Mhm." he lets out softly in your ear, a pleasure sucking him in.

"You don't seem tired anymore." you chuckle a bit as you faintly drag your fingertips over his waist and back. 

"It's a surprise what an irritation can do to a person." he says in a more steady, silvery tone as he speeds up his movement just a bit more, not wishing to speak anymore. You dig your fingernails into the soft flesh of his back as your eyes roll back. The way his pelvic area kisses your clit makes your body tremble as he keeps stimulating your sensitive spots inside. You let out shaky moans that combine with his shaky whines, your pussy tightening around him. Messily, you slide one of your hands between your bodies, reaching your overly needy clit. You begin rubbing little circles, an immediate breath of bliss escaping your lungs. You feel your pussy leaking even more precum, resulting in Fyodor sucking a deep breath in, his whorish sounds becoming more shaky. He continues kissing your neck, making longer pauses in between each as his body tenses up, mind over indulged in the sensations your pretty, warm pussy was providing for him.

Your moans pick up their pace as does your orgasm, building up quickly. Fyodor bites on the small portion of your neck, his lips parting as his teeth keep still, just to let out breathy moans as your pussy keeps on clenching. Your other hand keeps digging its fingernails into his back as you move your head back, letting out more guttural sounds of pleasure. You feel the waves of hot sensation spreading inside your body, its core in your lower tummy as Fyodor's cock keeps stimulating all of your sensitive spots. You speed up the movement of your fingers, even though they twitch from time to time as your release comes closer.

Fyodor lets go of your neck and you instinctively move your head towards him, placing a messy kiss on his lips. He parts your lips with his own trembling ones and his tongue finds yours quickly. Your kiss becomes passionate and messy as he starts thrusting even faster, making your release bubble up to its edge. You keep whimpering and moaning into each other's mouths, muffling the sounds at the same time. Your legs begin to shake as you finally feel your orgasm washing over you in tame waves. Fyodor bites your bottom lip as he feels your pussy clench around him, his cock twitching in response. Your head falls back, lips parting away from him. Fyodor keeps up his pace and so does your fingers.

You let out a chain of loud, deep and prolonged moans as your climax reaches its peak, so intense that it makes you lightheaded. Fyodor lets out higher whines, his forehead falling next to you as he speeds up the movement of his hips even more, this time prolonging your orgasm. Your hand moves into his hair, gripping on it tightly as your moans turn into dim whimpers, throat dry and body exhausted. You stop the movement on your clit, moving your hand on Fyodor's waist, barely holding it as you feel weak as your orgasm slowly melts away.

He keeps on whimpering in your ear, his hips quivering as he tries to keep up the steady movement, but unsuccessfully as his own release is approaching. You move your own hips a bit, trying to meet his and he lets out a sharp gasp as he reaches his orgasm suddenly. You feel his cum filling you up, a sensation making a hot knot inside your tummy. Your pussy feels too sensitive as Fyodor keeps on messily riding out his orgasm while quickly and breathlessly whining in your ear.

Your grip on his hair weakens and your arm falls to the side as he slowly calms down, stopping his movement and resting on top of you for a moment. You are still trying to catch your breath, feeling awfully tired and sleepy. Fyodor slowly pulls out, barely rolling to the side. He lays next to you and you turn around lazily, putting your leg over his hip as he puts his face on your chest. You brush your fingers through his hair, in a gentle and tired manner. Fyodor moves his hand over your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you close your eyes, feeling exhausted. You yawn, before speaking up sleepily.

"It's not that I dislike this side of you, but we need to work on your jealousy issues, you know?" you ask in a teasing tone as you keep on playing with his hair.

"I have no issues, your awful communication skills are to blame. However, don't get a foolish idea to do this on purpose in the future." he says in a quieter tone, evidently dozing off. 

"I will think about it." you let out teasingly, but the tiredness washes over you, both of you falling asleep almost immediately.

The End :) <3

I hope you liked it and enjoyed it! :) <3

Thank you so much for all the love and support, it means the world to me! :) <3

Forehead kisses for everyone :3

[celtic-crossbow]

Blood Ties Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Graphic depictions of illness; allusions to major medical procedure; accidental violence (m on f); allusions to child abuse

A/N: Finally. I make no excuses and a lot of apologies. Daryl is going through it right now but it's not just my normal whump. Reader gets to find herself again. I say that as vaguely as possible but you'll see at the end and in coming chapters.

A day and a half. A full fucking thirty six hours. The group still hadn’t returned. While it was logical to be concerned for their safety, you just couldn’t seem to look any further than the man on the bed no more than a foot in front of you. His fever raged and his breathing deteriorated, shallow rattles and painful fits of coughing. Still, those were less distressing than the moments he would wake, not remembering where or when he was. 

During one such episode, you had been a peer from school. An innocent girl who had followed him home one day to catch crawdads in the creek behind his house. His one friend that he had to hide in the crawlspace until he could get his father to beat on him instead of looking for you. He didn’t have any friends. You were special, he said. The bruises were worth it. 

Of all the ways to get Daryl to talk about what had happened to him, this wasn’t what you had expected. 

To make matters worse, he had become violent, waking in a rage that no one could understand. He was swinging punches and trying to leave the bed, Lori holding you away from him while Hershel of all people tried to subdue him alone. It was the grating of his own voice against his throat that had brought on the coughing, the force of which had eventually tired him out. 

You had appreciated the concern but had asked Lori not to come between you and Daryl again. Though she had retreated in a huff, Carol later assured you that she was only concerned for the safety of you and the baby. She wasn’t angry and she wasn’t judging Daryl for something over which he had no control. 

Things were quiet at the moment. You hummed and carded your fingers through the archer’s hair. He had been sleeping without interruption for a little over an hour, but his breaths were seeming even more labored. 

You were beyond exhausted. Two or three hours of sleep, barely eating between bouts of nausea, you were nearly to the point of being confined to that sickbed right alongside Daryl. 

“How’re the patients?” 

You didn’t lift your head, only your eyes. “Baby and I are fine. Daryl sounds worse than when you were here earlier.”

“Let’s take a look at you two and then I’ll examine Daryl.” 

There was no point in arguing. You didn’t have the energy. Sitting up straight in the chair, your back protested from the time spent bowed over the edge of the mattress, but you continued the journey to relax against the backrest. Your hand never released Daryl’s. 

Hershel motioned toward your sweater in a silent request for permission and received a mumbled knock yourself out in reply. Baby Dixon was still for the moment after hours of kicking and rolling and seemingly trying to fit a foot between your ribs. The veterinarian smiled gently upon removing the stethoscope and rolling down your sweater. You were grateful for the small gesture, likely would have left it up if he hadn’t taken the initiative. 

“Heartbeat’s strong. Seems to be doing just fine according to my limited knowledge. You really should get some rest yourself. Eat something, drink more.” His stethoscope was already nearing Daryl’s chest when you noticed it; the twitch of a hand before fingers curled into a fist. 

“Daryl, no!” You weren’t meaning to hurt the old man, inwardly wincing when you heard the thud of his body hit the floor. You were just quick enough to shove him out of the way, Daryl’s fist barely grazing your cheek instead. “Hey, you’re okay. It’s Y/N. You’re sick.” You kept your voice soft, right next to his ear, holding him firmly in a way he couldn’t escape in his weakened state. 

“Hershel! Y/N!” Carol and Lori burst into the room, Beth just behind them. You heard the girl begin to cry and tend to her father but the other two were quiet. 

“Where—dunno—can’t think—”

“I know, Daryl. It’s the fever.” He was coughing into your shoulder, his skin hot and dry where it touched yours. “You’re safe. I’m here. Thumper’s here.” The archer made a sound in his throat and by some miracle, you knew what it meant. Otherwise keeping your hold on him, you fumbled for his hand and pressed it firmly to the side of your belly. “Feel that? You woke them up too.” Your lip was wobbling, your voice threatening to do the same. “They just want their daddy to rest now so they can too. How ‘bout it, hmm?”

You pulled back slowly, steeling yourself for whatever it was you would see in his eyes. You almost whimpered when there was nothing short of exhausted recognition. 

“D’I hurt—” 

Your cheek burned and felt wet, but you shook your head. No, you wouldn’t tell him while he was like that. “I tripped. Face-planted. You definitely would have laughed.” He didn’t believe you, that much was obvious, but thank heavens for Thumper and a well placed punt straight to Daryl’s palm. His reaction was sluggish, head bowing to watch his hand rub circles over that spot. 

“Hey, kid. Go—easy on—your mama.”

“How about you go easy on their mama too and drink some water for me?” With your hand behind his head, you slowly guided him to his mountain of pillows. “Just a bit, okay?” He gave no answer. His palm continued to caress your bump. You wondered if he would still be so affectionate once he realized you weren’t alone in the room. 

With one hand raising his head slightly, the other tipped the cup to lips. He didn’t drink as much as you’d hoped but it was something. His eyes were closed but his fingers remained steady, curling and straightening over where you could feel the ripples of movement. It was as if they could sense one another. Daryl was calm, only the cough moving him at all. The baby’s movements were gentle waves below his hand. 

You didn’t dare move, allowing him the comfort he likely didn’t even know he was seeking. If you were being honest, you were relaxing a little as well. With a sigh, both tired and contented, you slouched but stayed next to him. 

“Is he okay?” You asked, finally rolling your head toward the others. Beth and Carol were getting Hershel to his feet, Lori pacing behind them with an expression you just didn’t like. 

“I’m perfectly fine.” The man answered for himself, patting Beth’s hand so that she would release him. 

“I’m so sorry.” You whispered, risking placing your hand over Daryl’s. When his fingers went still, you gently guided his palm back and forth over your belly. 

“You did nothing wrong, Y/N. I should have been more—”

“He’s going to seriously hurt one of us.” Lori interjected, continuing her pacing. You shot her a warning look, eyes narrowing when she shook her head. “I understand this is out of his control, but this is Daryl and out of all of us, he’s hardwired for violence.”

“Lori, you should go.” You spoke quietly, not willing to disrupt any rest the archer might be getting. You could only pray that he hadn’t heard her careless comment. 

“We should just take shifts to come check in on him. You could rest and eat, we’d probably hear him cou—”

“Are you seriously suggesting I leave him alone up here?” Where the anger was coming from, you had no idea. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concern for Daryl that was constantly eating at you. It hardly mattered, you’d made it clear that she was crossing a line. Your tone was dripping with venom. “Carol.” You beckoned, eyes remaining on Rick’s wife. “Please, take Lori downstairs before I say or do something I would definitely regret.”

“Come on, Lori.” You heard Carol say quietly, a heated glare continuing between you and the other woman as she was led from the room. Once the door closed, your anger dissolved as quickly as it had materialized. “Beth—Hershel, you know—”

“We know he’d never hurt any of us on purpose.” The girl said in that sweet southern tone of hers. “You neither.”

“Having two expectant mothers in one room with enough charged energy was just asking for an explosion of some sort. Now don’t you stress yourself over it any further.” As he neared, Hershel squeezed your shoulder. “Think you might be able to keep him from becoming agitated long enough for me to take a listen?” He lifted the stethoscope. 

You nodded with a sniffle, wiping away a tear. “Yeah. If you can go around, I have an idea.” The old man rounded the bed while you crawled up beside Daryl, gently pulling him onto his side and against your chest. Once situated, you pulled his hand back onto your belly, and though he didn’t move it, you felt him relax a little further into you. “Daryl.” You whispered into his hair. “Hershel’s gonna listen to your lungs. The stethoscope is gonna be cold but your skin is hot from the fever. I’m right here. And it’s just Hershel.” 

You carded your fingers through his hair while Beth leaned over you to clean the cut on your cheek, hands just as gentle as her father’s. There wasn’t so much as a flinch when the cold instrument pressed against the archer’s back. You paid attention to the his reactions—or lack thereof—but you also watched Hershel and the way his expression fell. It was then you knew he would tell you nothing good.

“His right lung is full of fluid. It’s hindering his ability to breathe normally. The cough is still productive?” You nodded slowly. “May I see?” Well, that was disgusting but Beth carefully pinched one edge of a cloth and carried it to Hershel. You didn’t care to have that ick on your fingers.

Your attention turned back to Daryl, his weight heavy on your side, chest rattling, cheeks flushed, and lips pale. When would the group be back? Were they okay? Should you plan to leave?

“Y/N.”

“Hmm?” You didn’t look up from stroking the archer’s cheek until your name was said again. The expression you were met with was grim. You had your concerns about the pink frothy liquid that accompanied the mucus. Fuck. You should have told Hershel immediately. “What is it?” 

“If I don’t do something about the fluid in his lung, it is possible he may—for lack of a better term—drown.” 

“When they get back—” He cut you off with a shake of his head.

“This can’t wait that long. We don’t know if—we’re not sure when they’ll return. I need to see if I have anything that I can use. What we were able to grab from the farm was extremely limited and even that has been cut in half with being on the road.” Hershel was mentally running through inventory as he began to leave the room with his daughter in tow, turning but not meeting your eyes. “I’ll need him awake for this.”

Start waking him up now. That’s what he meant. You were horrified. You had no idea how to thoroughly explain to Daryl what was going to happen, because you didn’t know. Why did he need to be awake? ‘Oh, you’re going to drown slowly if we don’t do this now.’ How badly would it hurt? 

“There’s a—time an’ place—to be pullin’ on—a man’s hair an’ this—ain’t it.”

You sputtered out apologies and let go immediately. “I didn’t even realize—I’m so sorry.” He wasn’t even looking at you, half lidded eyes blinking slowly and staring toward the wall. Your tight grip returned but this time on his bicep, pulling him more snugly into your side but easing when he buried his face against your sweater to cough. Gross, but what could you do?  “Daryl. Do you think you could try to—”

“Heard the—the old man. M’awake.” 

The two of you laid in silence, not necessarily uncomfortable but with the looming fear of what was to come and if could even possibly help him. Your fingers ran a trail up and down his arm while his hand splayed out over your belly, eventually sliding around to your side to shift you toward him. Face to face, you could now clearly see the exhaustion, the way the illness was slowly tearing him down, and the resignation in his eyes.

“I’m scared.” The words slipped from your tongue unbidden, and though his expression didn’t change, he brought a fiercely trembling hand to your cheek, hot against your skin.

“Me too.” The admission shocked you to your core. Daryl always strived to be strong for everyone. Hell, it was what led him to his current position in the first place, trudging on while ill just to make sure you and the group—mostly you—were fed. “Didn’t fall.” His thumb barely brushed the bruised cut on your cheek. “M’so sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

He opened his mouth, presumably to speak but quickly turned his face into the pillow to cough harshly, the force rocking his body hard enough to jar your own. You twisted to reach for a cloth, shushing him when his hold grew tighter, openly displaying his discontent at the thought of you moving away.

With gentle swipes, you wiped his face and then the pillow, folding the fabric before laying it above your heads for easy access. 

“I don’t wanna do this without you. Thumper needs their daddy. And,” you swallowed, face crumbling and tears stinging your waterline, “I need their daddy too.”

“Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” Why the hell was he comforting you when he was the one being ravaged by an illness that would have been easily remedied in the old world? You really were weak, dependent. Where was the headstrong woman that had shown no fear on her own during the first days of the turn? “Stop—stop lookin’ at me—like m’already dead.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, pulling away abruptly to cover a fit of barking coughs that left him groaning, face lined with pain while he gasped and heaved to catch his breath.

You had no chance to offer him any sort of comfort before there came a knock and Hershel entered, Carol at his heels. “We have what we need. Well, what can be used in place of what we need.” He held some sort of thin tubing, a syringe, and a plastic mixing bowl, while Carol carried a mostly empty bottle of whiskey, some gauze, tape, and a knife. Even with your wide eyes displaying a naked fear, Daryl never turned to look. “Is he awake?”

“Get it—get on with it.” He grumbled, weak but to the point.

Hershel merely shook his head with that fond smile he had developed toward your group since the farm. “Carol, could you sanitize the knife?” Seeing her pour a portion of the liquid over the blade made your stomach turn, or maybe it was your own illness rearing its ugly head to take advantage of your weakened state. Regardless, you looked away, finding Daryl’s eyes on your own. “First, I’ll need to find the right spot. You’ll have to be completely still for this, son.”

“Yeah, okay. Got—got it.” The archer wheezed. In your peripheral, you could see the veterinarian’s arm moving, pressing and counting the ribs in search of the correct site. Daryl was rigid, his eyes squinted but remaining open and focused on you with the occasional flitting down to where your swollen belly pressed against him. His hand fisted into the fabric of your sweater on your hip.

“Okay, I’m going to—”

“Just do—just do it for christ sake.” 

The old man was still behind him for a moment, long enough to draw your gaze to his. He nodded, a silent request for you to do what you could to keep Daryl still and compliant. Drawing your eyes back to the dull blue that was watching you with such intensity that you felt crushed under the weight, well, that must have been enough for Hershel to continue.

Daryl made a noise in the back of his throat, the slightest spasm of pain indicating that the knife had pierced his skin. Hershel and Carol were moving behind Daryl, communicating through whispers and gestures while you felt Daryl’s arm begin to shake, your sweater pulling tight against your body.

“It’s okay. You’re doing so good, Daryl.” 

His eyes suddenly clamped shut, your sweater rising away from your hip when he twisted his fist. The seconds felt like minutes that felt like hours of watching him tremble with fever, weakness, and restraint. Finally, there came the blessed sound of liquid hitting the bottom of the plastic bowl. 

“Catheter is in place as best I can tell. We’re getting fluid. Don’t hold your breath, son. Nice and slow.”

You could tell he was trying, each breath a wheeze laced with pain. Slowly, you moved your hand from his arm to his face, just brushing your fingers over the stubble on his cheek. “We need to start thinking of names, you know. Thumper is cute but the baby isn’t a rabbit even though they feel like one sometimes.” Daryl’s eyes opened, tears pricking at the pinched corners. You knew he couldn’t answer you and so did he, probably couldn’t even if he tried. “I try to picture what they may look like. I hope they look like you, big blue eyes and maybe even a permanent scowl so that when they smile, it’ll be the most beautiful thing we’ve ever seen.” You thumbed away a tear that escaped down across the bridge of his nose toward the other eye.

When his throat spasmed, you thought maybe he was going to be sick but then he began to cough, loud and agonizing and dry. Your wide eyes found Hershel’s, the calm in the old man’s gaze fizzling out your terror.

“It’s okay. Just keep him still. The coughing forces out more fluid. It’s almost over.”

As painful as it was for Daryl, it was agonizing for you to watch him suffer with no way to help him. “It’s almost done. You’re doing great. Stay still and stay awake. Can you look at me?” He answered with the smallest of nods, an almost imperceptible movement. Carol moved closer to Hershel. It was torture to not know what they were doing out of your sight but at the same time, an immense relief. The zip of tape being pulled and torn was surely a sign of the procedure coming to an end.

But it was when Daryl drew in the deepest breath you had heard in two days that you felt yourself relax, truly and utterly just drain of tension, placing your forehead against his. “It’s over. Just rest now.” You focused on his even breaths, just the slightest wheeze, the barely audible rattle. He was limp against you, his hand still tangled in your sweater but no longer holding on. The archer was exhausted and sleep had claimed him almost instantly.

“Hershel?” You need not ask anything. He knew.

“It won’t last long, but it buys us some time. The incision was deep but small. I will examine him in a little while, make sure it stays clean. In the meantime, listen for any struggles with breathing. Let him rest.”

You nodded, your forehead brushing against Daryl’s. The used supplies had been gathered and the old man had already made his way downstairs. You caught Carol’s eye as she started to close the door.

“An hour.” You stated flatly.

“What?” The other woman stepped back into the room, her brow drawn.

“I’m giving them one hour. If they’re not back, I want the list and I’m going. There won’t be a discussion.” No room for argument. “You sit with him while I’m gone. You’re the only other person he really trusts.” She looked as if she might object, but when her shoulders relaxed, you knew you’d won. With a nod, she left the room.

Without Daryl’s desperate attempts to breathe, it was so quiet, a sound you welcomed and reveled in so deeply. Hershel had opened a doorway and you’d be damned if you’d let it close. Moving your arm below his to wrap around him, low on his back to avoid the incision, you used the leverage to pull yourself as close to him as you could with baby Dixon barring the way. The archer didn’t stir. Pressing your lips to his forehead, you felt the fever still burning hot, only fueling your determination to get what he needed if the group failed to return.

“I don’t care what you say or what you think. I don’t care why you think I shouldn’t.” You spoke softly, a near whisper. “I love you. And I am not losing you.”

Of course you had fallen asleep. Daryl was resting comfortably, albeit still feverish. You were cozy beside him. You felt safe while simultaneously feeling like you were guarding him. It had been more than an hour, that much was certain. Hershel hadn’t given a timeframe regarding how long the treatment would help Daryl and you were taking no chances. It was time to take things into your own hands.

As fate would have it, just as you began to disentangle yourself from Daryl, there were frantic footsteps on the stairs. Fuck. Daryl was too weak to move if walkers had wandered into the area. The door burst open without a knock, revealing a breathless blonde teenager wearing a brilliant smile.

“They’re back!”

You stared. It was all you could do, your voice had seemingly decided it was in just as much shock as you were. Besides, she had already disappeared, leaving the door wide open. A sob worked its way up your throat but you blocked it with your teeth, looking down at Daryl as he slept. 

He would be okay.

The glare you had fixed on Hershel settled the maybe you should wait outside argument rather quickly. You weren’t leaving Daryl to be manhandled should he wake up confused. 

A herd had blocked their direct path back. Of course one had. Because the world was cruel and unforgiving and the dead were always hungry and always looking for a life to take. 

Rick, Glenn, and T-Dog were bringing up supplies while Maggie assisted her father with Daryl’s care. An IV was started immediately, after carefully searching for the perfect vein due to his state of dehydration. They didn’t have the cannulas to waste. Fluids were started right along with a bag of something called Azithromycin—an antibiotic, Hershel had said. They had scored several bags of each, along with a few other things that could be used for injuries or illnesses. But when they brought up the oxygen tanks, you could have sobbed.

The nasal cannula placement was what finally woke Daryl, bloodshot eyes scanning the room before you saw the first signs of panic. “Ssh. It’s okay.” You slid your hand under his and squeezed his fingers softly. “They’re back. Just let Hershal do his thing, okay? And then I’ll chase them all out. I promise.”

You were so relieved to see his usual scowl shift into place, even if it was somewhat diminished. “Fine.” He rasped.

“Good. Now, since I have your attention—don’t touch that—” you swatted his hand away from the cannula, “take these pills.” Hershel wanted around the clock alternation of acetaminophen and ibuprofen every four hours to get the fever under control. 

With an utterance of something containing the word bossy he let you place the pills on his palm and tossed them into his mouth, swallowing them dry while you sat there offering a glass of water. There was a look shared between you that would have been amusing had either you had the energy to laugh. “Thanks.” He whispered, his hand shaking when he accepted the water. He only took a couple of sips but you wouldn’t hound him just yet. The fluids were going and he likely would take a while to feel like doing much of anything.

“We’ve done everything we can do for now. Just need to keep an eye on those bags and hang new ones when they’re empty. Keep giving the fever reducers and, son, try to drink when you feel like. The sooner you’re taking in fluids on your own, the better.” 

“Leave that oxygen right where it is too.” Maggie added in a no-nonsense tone.

Daryl’s nod was sluggish, his chin almost staying on his chest during the gesture. The commotion, everyone moving, even while he did nothing more than take a couple of pills, had left him running on fumes. As promised, you were up, hand on your lower back to rub away the ache there as you used the other to shoo everyone out of the room.

Absolutely nothing was stopping you from crawling under those sheets with him and sleeping for four glorious hours. You had asked Carol to keep an eye on that. Thank heavens he was lying in the middle of the bed. The side with the IV needed to be avoided. 

Actually lying down with the intention to sleep, knowing Daryl was receiving the help he needed, you were just done for, already drifting off and somewhere between awake and asleep when you felt Daryl’s knuckles brush against yours. You took his hand without a second thought.

“Are you sure about this?” Carol asked, standing with you in the doorway of the bedroom. She was nervously glancing back and forth between you and Daryl. Aside from a few bouts of those harsh, barking coughs, he had slept the entire four hours and barely woke enough to choke down the pills before being pulled right back under. 

“I’m sure.” You secured your knife in the sheath on your thigh and wiggled Daryl’s gun holster a little to the side so it wasn’t gouging into the bottom of your belly. Your rifle was long gone and you weren’t about to alert anyone else to your plans by choosing a different weapon. So with both your bag and Daryl’s crossbow on your back, you were ready to head out.

“You don’t have anything to prove, Y/N. We’ve lived off less. There’s a little jerky left and we have some cans—”

“I’ll be fine, Carol. I’m only going to be a few hours and hunt small game. If I happen across a doe that I can lift, I’ll take that chance, otherwise, it’ll be squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, or opossums. Yum.”

“What do I tell him if he wakes up and asks for you?” She shifted nervously.

“The truth. We don’t lie. If he tries to come after me, knock him out or barricade the door.” 

She followed you to the top of the stairs but not down, staying close to Daryl as she had promised. “You really don’t need to go.”

“I do. I’m the only other hunter in this group. I won’t have him trying to go out sooner than he’s ready to make sure there’s enough.” You paused on the bottom step, staring at the door and then toward the kitchen where everyone else was gathered. Chewing your bottom lip, you climbed up two more so she could hear you without alerting the rest. “If I’m not back before his next dose, I’m headed west. That’s where they can look.” 

Carol looked so stricken and unsure so you offered her a smile, as she always did for you. Finally, she conceded. “Okay.”

“I’ll be back soon.”

[heartsforvin]

Okay Paige im back. Since today is vday (gross cus im single) you should make a smut where vinnie is brat taming the reader 🤭 that perfect mix of praise and degradation, ass slapping…i need help 🏃🏽‍♀️

KNOW YOUR PLACE

loveee this idea ! thank you for the request !!

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; smut, use of pet names, use of the word slut, praise, degradation, slapping, creampie, cum eating ?? (i think), choking, cussing, slight fingering, lmk if i missed anything !

summary; vinnie thinks you’ve been acting very bratty lately and decides to put you in your place

it’s not like you to ignore vinnie. sure he’ll get on your nerves and push your buttons just to see how you’ll react, but you never stay mad at him for long.

you and him both know you can’t stay mad at him for long periods of time, he’s a very person to forgive.

however, today was an exception. while the two of you were out earlier in the day, he had said something that had really pissed you off.

normally you’d call him out on it — you did, in fact. vinnie didn’t think it was a big deal though.

he tried apologizing in words, touches, and even kisses, but you just shot them all down.

vinnie couldn’t believe how you were acting. crossing your arms over your chest like a child who didn’t get their way.

that’s how you ended up bent over in the bathroom while you watch vinnie fuck you from behind.

“you wanted this, didn’t you?” he asked as he forced you to keep your head up and look at the two of you in the mirror.

all that was heard was your moans, pleads, and skin slapping.

“actin’ like a brat just so i can fuck you good, hmm?”

vinnie scoffed with a laugh when he watched you put your head down and gripped the countertop, making your knuckles white.

he gripped your hips and thrusted harder, making a loud moan slip from you.

you soon felt a harsh smack to your ass that you knew would leave a mark later. that only made you let out more noise.

“that feel good?” vinnie asked you as he continued his harsh movements.

you nodded and try to reply, to say anything really, but nothing.

you looked up and watched as he moved his hand from your hip to your throat in a matter of seconds and added a bit of pressure.

“eyes on me, pretty girl,” he told you, you met his gaze in the mirror instantly. “it’s…not…supposed…to..feel..good.” he said in between thrusts.

all you could do was nod in agreement, not having any words left or even at all, to say.

vinnie’s movements quickly came to a halt and you turned around to look at him, of course not uttering a word.

before you had time to breathe you were pushed up onto the counter with vinnie standing in between your legs.

you followed his hungry eyes and watched as they landed on where he just was seconds ago.

you watch as he rubs his fingers along your folds and you can’t help but whine.

“such a slut for me, aren’t you?” it was more a rhetorical question, although he knew you weren’t gonna answer.

watching as he inserts two fingers, you close your eyes and lull your head back, loving the feeling of his fingers inside you.

“dirty girl,” you heard him mutter in a deep tone, making your head even more fuzzy than it already is. “you love feelin’ my fingers, don’t you princess?”

biting your lip, you nod but soon feel a smack to your tits and vinnie’s voice comes out loud and clear.

“i asked you a question,” your eyes shoot open when you feel him grip your jaw with his other hand. “answer me.”

you look straight at him before tearing your gaze to his fingers inside you. “y-yes, vin.” you try the best you can to say.

another smack, but this one to your pussy instead, making you moan. “speak up or we stop now.”

he starts to finger you again, going faster this time. you know what he’s doing, you know he knows what he’s doing, and you wish you weren’t in this position right now so you can smack him yourself.

“f-fuck,” you let a whine slip before saying, “yes vinnie.” a little louder than last time.

vinnie kisses you while he continues his actions. “good girl.”

you start to grind against his fingers and he lets out a chuckle, pulling them out soon after.

you’re about to protest, but vinnie grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, another smack to your ass followed.

soon you realize you’re in his room and he’s got you on all fours. you can’t see him since your facing the headboard, but you can hear him as he gets closer to you.

“gonna be a good girl, or bad girl for me?” he whispers in your ear, making chills run down your body.

the effect he has on you and doesn’t even need to be touching you is insane. you really are whipped.

“i’ll be good, vinnie.” you tell him and he smiles before kissing your cheek.

you feel the bed dip and that’s when you know you’re about to be in for it. as if you haven’t already.

he doesn’t even give you time to adjust to his size before he’s moving. you let out a whine at the feeling of his cock inside you, loving every second of it.

“fuck you feel so good baby,” vinnie moans out. “my good girl.”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you hear the praise leave his mouth. you hear him moan again and that’s when you realized you clenched around him.

“do that again, sweetheart,” he tells you and you do it once more. “fuck, that feels good.”

vinnie reaches down to toy at your clit and you can’t help but try to close your legs a bit on him.

“ nuh uh, keep ‘em open for me, pretty.” he tells you, and you try the best you can to do as asked.

you rock back and forth to get as much friction as you can, the feeling just being way too good.

“dirty girl’s fuckin’ herself on my cock now, huh?” you nod and moan in response. “such a lil’ cockslut, is that right?”

you try to turn your head and look at him, and you can see vinnie smiling as he waits for you to answer. “is that right, baby? you’re just a little slut for my cock?”

his thrusts start gaining a faster pace and it’s hard for you to reply in words , but you try.

“yes, vinnie.” you say but soon feel that same smack you felt moments prior to your ass again. “words, my love.” he tells you.

vinnie finds your clit again and it’s almost impossible for you to muster out anything other than moans.

“yes! fuck yes, vin. such a slut for you, always.” you ramble, making vinnie smile.

his pace on your clit and with his thrusts fasten and you’re so close you can feel it.

“baby, please.” you plead as you try to fight the urge to let go before you’re told too.

“please what?” vinnie asks you.

breathing heavy, you somehow get out the words, “lemme cum, please vinnie.”

he removes his hand from your clit and licks his fingers clean before grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and tugging it so you can look at him.

“have you learned your lesson?” he asks, and you nod. “speak, you know how, don’t you? or are you too cockdrunk?”

shaking your head, you tell him no and ten follow it with, “i’ve learned my lesson, v. please let me cum, please i need it so bad.”

he smirks. “ how bad?” now he’s just teasing you, and you wish you could do something about it.

you move your hips in just the right way so he gets that pleasurable feeling like you do and that’s enough to give you what you want.

“be a good girl and cum on my cock baby, come on, you can do it.” he tells you and that’s enough to push you over the edge.

“that’s it, fuck look at the mess you made.” vinnie rambles as he watches you let go all over him.

he’s quick to follow right after, moaning out profanities as he does.

he pulls out slowly but stops quickly. he carefully turns you around and smiles down at you.

you watch as he pushes himself into you again and starts to thrust slowly.

“fuck v, no more.” you tell him, but he gives you a knowing look. “trust me baby, just wait.”

with a few more thrusts the two of you are soon cumming again and you reach up to hold his shoulders.

watching as vinnie pulls out of you for the second time, you carefully see what he does next.

“shit,” you mutter as you watch him push the cum that had leaked out back into you. “who’s the dirty one now?” you question with a laugh.

once he’s done with his fun he goes and leans down to lap up the remainder of liquid that coats your pussy.

“jesus vin,” you unintentionally push up on the bed, only to be met with vinnie’s face in your pussy. “okay thats enough.”

you push his head away, overstimulated just a bit by the feeling of his tongue on you.

vinnie wipes his mouth and gives you a goofy grin, making you kiss him for being so adorable.

“oh and just so you know, i’m always and forever will be a slut for you.” you tell him with a smile before walking to the bathroom.

you hear vinnie fall on to the bed then hear a loud “fuck” and turn around to watch as he takes off his shirt and the sheets.

“literally just accidentally laid in our mess.” he tells you as he passes by to grab the laundry basket.

you laugh and continue using the bathroom, wondering how your boyfriend can go to serious and stern, to goofy and adorable in the matter of minutes.

I HOPE YOU ENJOYED I TRIED MY BEST TO MAKE IT AS SLUTTY AS POSSIBLE !!!

also happy valentine’s day, currently wishing i had vinnie and we were doing this exact thing (but that’s what dreams are for LOL)

anyways i hope you all enjoyed this , i loved writing it !!

also i’ll post a separate post w all my vin tags in case people don’t see this but im going on vacation from the 17-23 so in that week there probably won’t be any updates request wise but i do have somethin in da drafts for yall !!!

tags: @lyndys , @cosmicanakin , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @leqonsluv3r , @louloulemons-blog , @supabhad , @laylasbunbunny , @violet0182 , @lovingsturniolo , @kriissy4gov , @kayleiggh , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld

[cheeeeseburger]

It might be worth it for once

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes! This was inspired by the song Slut!, by miss Taylor Swift! Enjoy!

You had just posted a picture on Instagram of Fernando driving you took when you were in the passenger seat, on your way to date night. You thought your caption was hilarious: “shut up and drive”, quoting the song by Rihanna. An hour later though, as the hate comments poured in, it suddenly wasn’t as funny.

Leaning on the railing of the hotel room you shared with Fernando, you scrolled through endless comments calling you names, criticizing you and your relationship. Of course, the classic “gold digger” was there. Even after four years of being publicly in a relationship with Fernando, people still didn’t get it. Even though you were used to it, it still hurt.

“Mi sol,” Fernando joined you on the balcony, pulling you into a hug from behind. He noticed that you were scrolling through the comments, “Same old, huh?”

“Always. Don’t they get tired of hating me, hating us together? It must be exhausting, after four years.” You replied, sighing.

Fernando took your phone away from you and put it in his pocket. He spun you so you were now facing him, with your back against the railing.

“You cannot let them get to you, mi sol. None of what they said is true. These people don’t know anything about us or our relationship. I love you, and that’s the only thing that matters.”

He tucked a few loose strands of your hair behind your ears, trying to comfort you. He could see that the comments had made more of an impact on you than they usually did.

“I know, baby, and I love you too. It’s just that we’ve been together for a few years now, and I had expected the hate to slow down. So what you’re older? That doesn’t change anything!” You were getting frustrated.

He kissed your cheek, wanting to calm you down.

“You’re right, it doesn’t change anything. We are just a normal couple, doing things the right way. We moved together, we’re gonna get married someday, have our own family, grow old together…” He laughed a little, “Well, I’m gonna get older earlier than you, but who cares?” He shrugged it off, not noticing your eyes were as big as saucers.

“Fernando, did you just say we were going to get married someday?”

He looked confused, and almost hurt.

“What, did you not expect us to get married someday? Or do you not want to?” He asked insecurely.

You were quick to respond: “No, no, I mean, of course, I want to get married to you! I’m just surprised that you would want to marry me!”

“Mi sol, why would I not want to make you my wife? He asked, genuinely surprised.

“Well… It’s just that I expected that you would grow tired of me one day, realize I was too young, not mature enough for you, or something like that…” You replied, looking away.

He forced you to look at him by pulling gently on your chin.

“How can you believe that I will ever get tired of you? Mi sol, I could never have enough of you. I always knew I was going to be proposing to you one day. It has been part of my plan ever since we started dating.”

You were blushing, ashamed of yourself for being so insecure: “Maybe one day you will start to believe the comments on my Instagram posts, and you will leave me because you think that I am a gold digger, or that I’m only using you for fame… Even though none of this will ever be true, of course!”

Fernando took both of your hands in his, then he exclaimed “I could never believe lies like this! Frankly, I am a little disappointed. Do you not have faith in me or our relationship?”

You gasped, realizing you had hurt his feelings: “I’m sorry baby, I did not mean in that way! I know that you love me, and I love you too. I promise, I’ve always imagined us being together for the rest of our lives, I just wasn’t sure if you shared my plan. If you didn’t, baby, I would be crushed to death. In fact, I have so much faith the future of our relationship that I already have a Pinterest board for our wedding as well as a list of potential baby names that suit the last name Alonso!” You admitted desperately, but also sheepishly.

Fernando immediately softened at your words.

“Mi sol, you have a list of names? Which ones are at the top?”

You turned a deep shade of red. “Right now, it’s Santiago for a boy, and Marisol for a girl, because it reminds me of the nickname you have for me.”

“Don't be embarrassed. These are very nice names, all in Spanish too… You’ve really thought about this huh?” He stroked your cheek, then pulled you closer to leave soft kisses on your jawline. He was clearly pleased to learn you had planned ahead.

“Of course. It’s not a simple task, it cannot be rushed.” He could hear your smile in your voice.

“Yeah? I kind of want to put a baby in you right now,” he whispered in you ear. You immediately shivered at his words.

“Me too. God, it would be so hot to walk around the paddock pregnant by a man fifteen years older than me. Everyone would know it was you that knocked me up. Everyone would know how good you treat me.” You were getting turned on by this fantasy and the trail of kisses Fernando left all over your throat. He was getting worked up too, and you could feel it on your thigh.

“I can do all of that, mi sol. Multiple times, even. I would love to see you at the races with a baby or two in your arms, and another one on the way.” He left your throat to give the same treatment to your shoulders, pushing the thin straps of you dress to the side. His hands were working efficiently too, getting access to your thighs by lifting the hem of your dress.

You brought him even closer to you by pulling him by the loops holding his belt in place.

“Baby, go ahead then. We would be the talk of the town. Oh, the scandal it would cause, especially since we’re not married.” The thought was thrilling.

Fernando went back to your neck, one hand lifting your leg and the other one on the side of your boobs.

“Oh yeah, I forgot about that part. I want to make you my wife before I get you pregnant. I want you to have my last name before I give it to the baby.”

You were conflicted, but also pleased. On one hand, you really, really wanted to get pregnant as soon as possible. But being his wife before being the mother of his children was also really tempting. You teased him: “Sounds like you are ready. Pretty please, tell me, do you have the ring already?”

Your boyfriend smiled against your neck. “In the first drawer of my dresser, hidden underneath my socks.”

You shrieked: “No way!” Fernando laughed at your excitement.

You hugged him tightly. He really was serious earlier.

He answered simply: “Yes.” You kissed him, and he kissed you back immediately. The kiss was soft and tender and had a thousand words hidden in it. It was full of I love you, no I love you more. It was the kind of kiss that creates buttefly. It was the type of kiss you remember forever. After a few minutes, or maybe a few hours, the driver pulled away.

“Mi sol, I know I haven’t even proposed to you yet, but what if we went inside and practiced for our wedding night?”

You laughed and followed him inside.

A year later, it was his turn to post on his Instagram. This time, it was a picture of your wedding. Multiple songs by Rihanna could have been fitting for the caption: We Found Love, Only Girl, Love On The Brain, and many more. Ultimately, he chose a simpler one: Mi sol.

And when you welcomed your little girl, his caption was similar: Mi sol y mi Marisol. This time, the comments were pretty nice.

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 08. boo boo the fool

nsfw content below (minors dni)

WHEN YOU GOT HOME, THE LIGHTNESS IN YOUR CHEST QUICKLY BECAME THICK UNEASINESS.

Your bi-level penthouse was dark when you entered, and you felt more alone than ever. Even your day out with Yuna felt strange; deep down, you didn't exactly forgive her, but you felt obligated to accept her apology once she poured her heart out to you. At this point, you didn't even want to check your texts from Giselle, Karina, or Yeonjun about the Instagram stories she posted. You were just as exasperated that she took them despite her so-called social media break.

Even calling your father felt like a chore. You listened to him ramble on about how you needed to do better and strive for greatness. Fix up your resumé. Reach out if you needed referrals. Do more. Make connections. Work harder. Be the person he wanted you to be.

After you showered and settled in to unwind for the night, you heard a knock at the door—five knocks, actually. The pattern was familiar; it was Sunghoon's signature knock. You and your boyfriend came up with it years ago to use on each other, and the repetition made your heart twist painfully in your chest.

You weren't quite sure if you were ready to see him. Not after the argument you both had.

Still, you crossed your living room to open the door because you were far too weak to ignore him.

When you saw him, flushed cheeks from the cold and fluffy hair falling over his forehead, you felt butterflies flap violently in your stomach.

"Can I come in?" he asked, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trench coat.

"Of course." You opened the door wider for him. "I thought you said you were busy."

"Never too busy for my girl."

Normally, those words would have made you blush so hotly that you wouldn't be able to hide your shyness from him. This time, however, you felt a pang of disappointment. How come he could say that so easily but went back on his words every single time? Not to mention he wasn't even looking at you as he said it.

"Are you staying over tonight?" you asked, hope swelling in your chest when he took off his coat.

You and Sunghoon hadn't slept together since school started, and it was starting to upset you because you hardly got to see him over the summer, too. He was busy with his internship most of the time, and then when you two went to Bora Bora with Heeseung, you barely had any privacy to start anything with him.

"Can I?" He circled his arms around your waist to pull you closer. His voice dropped to a murmur when he added, "I think I'll be really tired later, so..."

You swallowed thickly. That could only mean one thing, right? You hoped you weren't getting your hopes up over nothing. The scalding knot in your stomach grew tighter when you felt his body press against yours.

"Yeah, I still have your pajamas," you said, "and your toothbrush is still in my bathroom."

After leading him to the couch, your boyfriend gave you a foot massage while you told him about your day. You admitted to feeling lonely, and Sunghoon apologized with a frown, although you weren't feeling hopeful that he would do anything about it.

"Is it school that's stressing you out?" he asked in that ever-so-tender voice that made you melt. "Is it The Order? You don't have to try so hard, you know?"

"They only take fifteen people," you replied. "I can't be sure one of them will be me."

"Better you than anyone else. I thought you said you were getting close to Jennie."

"I am, but"—you sighed—"I just feel like I'm gonna blow the interview. What am I gonna do when they ask what I wanna do with my life?"

Sunghoon gave you an odd look, as if the answer was as clear as day. "Tell them you're taking over Mercy West."

"But what if I don't want to?"

"Why wouldn't you want to?"

Because I'm not you, you thought. Because my aspirations aren't living up to my dad's expectations.

Instead, you settled for saying, "I think I'm just stressed."

"I know it's hard." He was nodding in understanding as he pressed kisses to the top of your head. You were so wrapped up in your own head that you hardly noticed some of the tender pecks. "I almost gave up on trying to be my dad's favorite."

You frowned. "Did Sungjin say something again?"

"He's just being a dick like always, but enough of that. Is everything alright with your parents?"

"They're the same as ever. I see mom, like, four times a year—unless she decides she wants to fly me out somewhere—and then dad's always too busy to be around. At least now I can live alone and go see them whenever they're around."

Then, the strangest words came out of Sunghoon's mouth, and he said them as if he was in some sort of dreamlike trance. "What if we just ran away together?"

"We could," you replied, entertaining the idea. "Buy a house in Iceland. Raise a couple of dogs together. We could start our own business or something."

"What kind of business?" He hummed as he thought. "Ah, we could make friendship bracelets."

You barked out a laugh. "Friendship bracelets? That's a business?"

"Yeah, you used to be really good at making them. I still have the one you gave me."

"You do?"

"It's not on me because I'm scared of losing it, but I've kept it in a box at home. Still fits like a charm."

You smiled at the memory, thinking back to the days of your youth when you stayed up all night making those bracelets for him and Heeseung. You thought you had unlocked some sort of hidden talent back then (especially after Heeseung went on and on about how he had never seen such a well-made bracelet, which you realized later was probably the first friendship bracelet he had seen). You didn't realize back then that you wove Sunghoon's with special feelings in each strand.

Sunghoon then proposed watching one of the cheesy reality shows you were addicted to. His hands were wrapped securely around you, and you settled comfortably in his chest. The both of you laid there well after the show ended and your TV screen turned off.

"I missed you," he murmured into your hair.

"I missed you, too—so much."

He was stroking your cheek gently by now—soothing circles that almost lulled you into a trance. The unsteady breath you drew in was almost pathetic.

"I'm so tired of all the arguments."

"I don't wanna fight with you, I just—"

"I know." His hands moved up to cup your cheeks, supporting your jaw enough to tilt your chin up higher. His gaze ran over the curve of your lips before he inched closer. "Let me just make it up to you, okay?"

You could only nod, dazed, before Sunghoon pressed his lips to yours with fervor.

His fingers were lost in your hair while your hands gripped the front of his shirt. Your lips succumbed as soon as his tongue prodded at your lower lip, begging for more. Sunghoon didn't seem to have the mind to take it slow; he wanted everything you offered—all at once. The way his hands dropped to your hips to grab you and pull you to him made you believe he would've ravaged you if he had less patience.

He was like a storm. You could hardly keep up with him, but you wanted more. With a broken whimper against his lips and your fingers now unbuttoning his shirt, you completely forgot where you even were as he cupped your breasts with little restraint.

Each kiss felt like he was breathing life back into you. You had yearned for him to hold you like this for so long, and your relationship was starting to feel hopeless once all the constant fights were going on. Now, finally, it felt like that spark was back.

"Sit up," he ordered in a low voice, and you had no mind to question him once you felt his bulge pressing against your thigh, "and take off your shorts."

Was this really happening? You almost always got him off first. He always returned the favor afterward, of course, but this was a shocking development.

But you weren't complaining.

You didn't break eye contact with your boyfriend as you sat back on your white couch, shimmying off your satin shorts before you did so and discarding them. Five grand and soft fabric, but you didn't even care if Sunghoon was about to ruin it.

His gaze was hungry. You had to pretend your veins weren't melting at the very look in his eyes, and, oh, how they darkened at the sight of your bare thighs pressed together.

Sunghoon rolled his sleeves up and then unclasped his watch in a single motion—without even looking at it—and tossed it aside without a second thought. It was the watch his father had gotten him for his eighteenth birthday. The forty grand watch his father had gotten him—laying on the ground.

His hands pushed your legs apart, rubbing your thighs up and down before his fingers teased the band of your underwear. He snapped it playfully, causing you to press your lips together tightly. You didn't dare show him a reaction in case he decided to tease you by pulling away.

But he didn't. He was too impatient for that now as he slipped his fingers past the band and tugged your underwear down to your ankles, keeping direct eye contact with you the entire time. You kicked it off your feet and watched as Sunghoon bent his head to kiss up your thighs.

Slow, open-mouthed kisses that left you biting your lip hard enough that you were almost afraid it would bleed.

"Please," you whispered once he reached the apex of your legs.

Sunghoon grinned up at you, all smug and cocky. The sight could've brought you to your knees if you were still standing.

"Anything for you, my pretty girl."

He moved your legs so that they were over his shoulders, and you leaned back so that you could hold onto the head of the couch. He pressed a hot kiss to your cunt, and you shuddered at the feeling of his soft lips.

He pressed a few more lingering, open-mouthed kisses to your pulsing muscle before licking a long stripe along your soaked cunt, humming inquisitively with an almost insufferable, teasing lilt.

You gasped at the contact, arching back against the couch as Sunghoon flattened his tongue against your folds and continued lapping at your arousal. You felt like you were floating elsewhere, unable to come back down to reality.

It was almost painful how turned on you were. You nearly cried out when his tongue ran over your engorged clit—sore and throbbing from how badly you needed him.

Your soft, broken moans must have roused Sunghoon to push your hips down and start eating you out with sudden vigor. You felt sweat start to bead at the bridge of your nose, leaving a sheen across your flushed skin.

With the position you were in, you struggled to grind your hips against his tongue for more. You needed more. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, but you couldn't stop yourself from chasing your high.

"How good am I making you feel?" he asked in that silky, velvety voice of his.

"S-so good," you managed to get out through teary eyes. "I can't, Hoon, I—"

He shushed you with his lips still pressed against your cunt. His very breath traveled all the way up your spine, up to your already foggy brain and making it all the more cloudy and dazed.

"Cum for me, pretty girl," he murmured, and he plunged his tongue inside you with no mercy.

You felt like you had burst into flames seconds later. The pleasure racked your body in waves, nearly causing you to double over on the arm of your couch. You gripped the fabric tighter until you suspected you had plucked some loose strings right out.

You had no idea you were crying out in pleasure until Sunghoon was shushing you gently, moving back up right after your orgasm to hold you in his arms and kiss you with utmost passion. You were practically clawing at him, begging him to help you ride out your orgasm, but he wasn't listening.

You pouted, whining, "But I want more."

"Baby, it's late," he said, stroking your hair after he pushed the loose strands out of your face. "I promise we'll have all the time in the world to ourselves soon."

Although you were slightly disappointed, you nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him hold you tight to his body. He knew that you liked to be a little clingy after intimacy, so even though you were upset that you couldn't pleasure him in return, you still wanted to be close to your boyfriend.

You let Sunghoon carry you to bed. He was always so gentle in how he laid you down properly in your queen-sized bed and tucked you in. Even though your eyelids felt heavy, you waited for him to change into the spare clothes he left at your place ages ago, and then crawl in next to you once he was ready.

He pressed a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the palm of your hand.

Sunghoon stroked your side gently, circling his thumb against your skin as he asked you, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything," you replied too quickly, still clouded by love and the afterglow of your orgasm.

"Why are you still friends with Yuna?" His gaze was intense for a moment before softening again. "I don't think she's... good for you."

Soon after, hot acid roiled in your gut. The chill that ran down your spine felt like nails against a chalkboard.

Everything came crashing down.

"She's just gonna keep hurting you," he continued, carding his fingers through your hair. When all you could do was stare at him, Sunghoon took that as his cue to settle back into bed and nestle his chin into the crook of your neck. "Just think about it, okay?"

"Wait—is that why you came over?" you asked, hardly audible, and you weren't exactly sure if Sunghoon even caught your words.

"Huh?" He rubbed his eyes, his voice muffled with sleep. He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you down by his side. "Let's just go to bed, baby. We can talk tomorrow."

Stiff and unwilling, your body hardly relaxed in his hold. You complied all the same, though, because your shock was so immense that no words came to mind. All you could do was close your eyes and will your tears away before your boyfriend noticed that you were crying.

Hysteria rose in your throat, but before the hilarity and absolute despair of the situation was about to overtake you, odd numbness filled your body instead.

You were questioning everything—questioning your feelings for Sunghoon, questioning his feelings for you.

And maybe those weren't butterflies in your stomach, after all. Maybe they were moths, fluttering erratically in the direction of a light that would only burn them.

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SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

[formulapierre]

If You Love Her | Pierre Gasly

Pairing : Pierre Gasly x Reader

Prompt : Based off of the song 'If you love her' by Forest Blakk. You finally decide to give Pierre your everything and you get his everything in return, except the universe seems to have other plans.

Warnings: Life changing injuries; Any other language apart from English was done by google translate, apologies for anything incorrect x

Word Count: 5261

Song: If you love her - Forest Blakk

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it

“I'm ready to let you in,” You say, you had been guarding your heart for months now; scared, no, terrified of being betrayed again by someone who told you they loved you. 

“Then let me in cherie,” He says with a smile as he gently cups your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek.

“I love you…” You say. He had said it a few weeks ago, assuring you there was no pressure for you to say it back. You had met through a mutual friend, that being your ex-boyfriend, who at one point in time had been Pierre’s best friend. Though after seeing everything He had done to you and seeing how damaged you were; both of you decided never to speak of him again. 

“I love you too,” He says softly, bringing you in for a gentle kiss. “So much,” He adds, causing you to blush. You were then, and still are now, surprised that someone like him could love someone like you.

Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have

“You need to leave,” Pierre said calmly to the guy who had been pounding on the door to your apartment for the last ten minutes, adamant on talking to you.

“Mate, just let me talk to her,” He said, voice holding strong.

“She doesn’t want you here, and neither do I,” Pierre replies, looking over at your tear-stained face as you sit on the couch. “Cherie, go into our bedroom, you don’t need to hear any of this,” He says and you quickly follow his advice.

“Just go home, neither of us are opening the door for you. Y/N Is gone, she can’t hear you,” He tells your ex-boyfriend who was still adamant on seeing you.

“Ma-,” Your Ex goes to say before Pierre cuts him off.

“I’m not your ‘mate’ anymore. And I’m fed up now, I just want to go and make sure Y/N’s ok, so I’ll put this plainly for you. If you don’t leave in the next 30 seconds, I will call the police,” He said bluntly. There’s one last bang on the door before it all goes quiet. Pierre pulls up the security feed from the camera outside the door and sees your Ex begrudgingly walking back towards the elevators. He sighs in relief as the camera loses sight of him. Pierre quickly makes his way into your bedroom and finds you curled up underneath a mound of blankets.

“Hi cherie, it’s just me,” He says getting onto the bed next to you. You almost immediately turn over and cuddle into his chest. “What do you need?” He asks, wanting more than anything to take this feeling away

“I just need you to hold me,” You say as you cling to the shirt he was wearing, not wanting him to leave you.

“I can do that” He says with a smile as he pulls you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you.

She always has trouble falling asleep And she likes to cuddle while under the sheets

Yourinstagram

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yourinstagram Life lately...

yourbestfriend People either want to be you, or be with you 🤩

PierreGasly Missing you Cherie <3

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Pierre had been gone for what felt like ages, in reality it had only been a few weeks and you had facetimed each other most nights. Falling asleep next to each other was something you had both become very accustomed to. You knew his flight arrived in the small hours of the morning into Malpensa Airport and he made you promise that you wouldn’t wait up for him. You had settled into bed slightly later than you normally would, opting for one of your favourite movies and eventually falling asleep. 

You didn’t hear the front door to the apartment as he came in. Drop his suitcases and carry on by the door before heading straight for your bedroom. He kicked his shoes off and got undressed before slipping into bed next to you. You had fallen asleep facing his side of the bed, wanting to see him when he got back and luckily you did. As the bed dipped and he moved closer to you, you slowly woke up; arms instantly reaching out for him as he made himself comfortable.

“Missed you whilst you were away” You say as He wraps his arms around you.

“I missed you too Cherie,” He says, kissing the top of your head.

“Glad you’re finally home,” You add sleepily as you cuddle into him, resting your head on his chest as he pulls the sheets over you both.

“-and I’m not going anywhere,” He says as you fall back to sleep, just as quickly as you woke up.

She loves pop songs and dancing, and bad trash TV

It had been a fairly productive day on your part, you had mailed a letter to your Grandma, sent a package to your Aunt with birthday presents for your niece and nephew and gone grocery shopping. You were slightly surprised when you found the apartment unlocked; cursing at yourself as you had evidently forgotten to lock it. You turned the handle and pushed the door open with your foot as you had grocery bags in your hands.

“I can help,” Pierre says coming out of the kitchen and taking some of the bags from your hands,

“What are you doing here?” You ask with a pleasantly surprised smile on your face. He must have been back a while as the living room was now tidy and He was in the process of doing the kitchen. Music was playing in the background, though it wasn’t his music, it was yours…

“I took the day off,” He says as you put the bags down on the kitchen counter; He takes you into his arms and you both start to sway to the music. “I thought we could start the new season of that reality tv show you watch,” He adds, spinning you round. “Oh, and I picked up that album you’ve been listening to on vinyl,” He says as you both dance around the kitchen.

There's still a few other things She loves love notes and babies and likes giving gifts Has a hard time accepting a good compliment

‘Good Morning, mon cherie, i woke up early this morning so have decided to get a quick gym session in before we leave; i won’t be too long and then i'll bring you breakfast in bed. Maman isn’t expecting us until 11 so we’ve got a couple hours before we need to catch our flight.  I can’t wait for you to see what I got you.

I love you more than you’ll ever know , P x

Pierre certainly delivered on his promise as the next time you saw him He had breakfast in hand, both of your bags packed next to the closet door as He got back into bed. You spent an hour in bed together before you had to get up and get ready to go. You had been looking forward to Christmas with Pierre’s family for months, slightly disappointed that you weren’t going to see your family until the 27th.

She loves hеr whole family and all of her friends So if you'rе the one she lets in

The jet touched down at the airport in Paris, a rental car waiting for us on the tarmac as we grabbed our bags. The drive from here to Rouen was pretty good and didn’t take too long so before You knew it you were pulling into the driveway. You could already see everyones cars parked up and there looked to be a few more than usual but you just chalked it up to Pierre having a large family and maybe there were a few more cousins joining you this year.

Pascale had spotted you as you drove down the driveway so was already on the doorstep waiting for you. She wrapped her arms around you both, telling you how much she had missed you. Even though she had seen you a few weeks ago at the Abu Dhabi GP she acted like she hadn’t seen you in years.

You were quickly ushered inside and out of the cold, as you were hanging your coat up you thought you saw someone you recognised, you thought it was your Mum…you laughed to yourself knowing there was no way it could have been her…must have been Pierre’s other cousins that parked their cars outside. Everyone was sitting around the fireplace watching a movie whilst Pascale and Pierre’s sister in law cooked christmas dinner. 

“Uncle P!” His niece shouted when she saw him. Scrambling to get up and run into his arms, the other children quickly followed, they didn’t forget about you either. Pierre’s youngest niece is almost being more excited to see you. Then you thought you saw her again…and your Dad sat next to each other on the far couch, smiling back at you. 

“Mum? Dad?” You ask and your Mum quickly comes over to you. “What are you guys doing here?” You ask looking between them.

“Pierre called, said you were annoyed you wouldn’t be seeing us today and that you wished you could have a huge family christmas so He invited us. I hope that’s alright?” She asks and you quickly nod.

“That's more than alright,” You reply, pulling her in for another hug. Growing up with no siblings or cousins, Christmas was always very quiet so you loved the years you were at Pierre’s with his entire family.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her

PierreGasly

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PierreGasly Christmas dumpp

yourdad Thanks for having us!

yourinstagram You are literally the loml 😍

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“You’re incredible you know that,” You say as you drive back towards the airport. It had been a busy few days with His family and you were glad you were finally heading home. You had made some amazing memories and it would be a Christmas you’d never forget.

“I’m glad you liked it Cherie,” Pierre said, squeezing your thigh lightly as he rested his hand there.

“No-one's ever done anything as thoughtful as that before…it really means a lot to me,” You say honestly.

“They should have done, you deserve the world Y/N,” He replies and you lace your fingers into his.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram

📍 Bahrain International Circuit, Bahrain

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yourinstagram Tell a friend, to tell a friend...WE'RE BACKKKK!!!!!!!!

Unknown1 Pierre and Y/N are my roman empire

Unknown2 We've been waiting far too long for this...

WaGsF1 The 'IT' couple are backk!

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“-fuck!” Pierre shouts as he pulls his helmet off, he crosses the garage not sparing you a glance. He had collided with Alonso on the first corner, suffering too much damage so they had to retire the car. Honestly, a rookie mistake. But any little thing always caused Pierre to spiral. You gave him a few moments to calm down before you left your seat and headed towards his driver's room. As you walked in his race suit was strewn over the couch, fireproofs on the floor and boxers by the bathroom door. The sound of the shower was the giveaway.

You picked up his clothes, putting them into the laundry bag in the corner. He came out a few moments later, towel wrapped around his waist.

“I don’t know why I bother anymore,” He says to you as he uses another towel to dry his hair. “I’m not fucking good enough, this is my 7th season, I should not be making stupid mistakes like that,” He adds, collapsing onto the couch next to you.

“You are good enough Pierre, they wouldn’t have signed you if they didn’t think so,” You remind him. 

“There were so many other people that should have gotten the seat…Doohan, Pourchaire, Martins? They’d all be doing a better fucking job than I am,” He says and you lean back against the couch, your fingers moving to thread themselves between Pierre’s damp hair.

“It’s only the first race of the season…you’re not completely comfortable with the car yet. It’s fine Pierre, it happens. But you are good enough and you do deserve to be here,” You assure him.

Kiss her with passion as much as you can

You were sitting in the back of his garage, headset on as you listened to the engineer chatter, you had always been interested in that kind of thing so any opportunity you get to listen in, you always take. Pierre was also in on the conversation, standing with the group of engineers. They were wrapping up the conversation when He came over to you, pulling the headset down and letting it hang around your neck. His finger moved under your shin and he pulled you into a slow and loving kiss.

“What was that for?” You ask breathlessly a few moments after he pulled away.

“-because you’re beautiful” He replies and you blush. He presses a final kiss to your forehead before he starts to put in his ear plugs and pull his balaclava on. A wide smile on his face as he walks away from you.

And when she doesn't notice how pretty she is Tell her over and over so she never forgets

The summer break could not have come soon enough, despite Pierre’s rocky start to the season He had managed to claw his way back, now sitting comfortably in 3rd in the drivers championship. To say it was his best season yet would be an understatement. But.  All of that meant the pressure was on, and you were both starting to feel it. It was a unanimous decision that you needed a vacation and Bali was always a good idea. The flights had been booked only a few hours after the decision had been made, and ever since then you had been counting down the days.

“Are you sure this looks ok?” You ask Pierre as you get ready for a day at the beach. “You don’t think it's showing off a little bit too much?” You add as you look at yourself in the mirror. The dark green bikini you had chosen left very little to the imagination.

“Cherie you look stunning, you look beautiful in everything you wear” He assured you, coming up behind you and resting his head on your shoulder. “It’s Bali cherie, I guarantee there will be people wearing much less than you, right?” He asks, snaking his arms around your waist. “I think you look hot, and that’s all that matters,” He says as he starts to kiss your neck.

Take it If she gives you her heart, don't you break it Let your arms be a place she feels safe in

yourinstagram

📍 Bali, Indonesia

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yourinstagram When in doubt, go to Bali

Unknown4 That bikini is certainly brave...

Unknown5 God I wish i was them...

Unknown6 That is much more of y/n then anyone needs to see

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“I told you I shouldn’t have worn it…have you seen the comments? Pierre, look at them,” You say to him as you hold your phone up

“They’re just jealous cherie, you looked stunning…besides, it doesn’t matter what they think does it?” He asks, taking your phone, it's quickly turned off and placed on the coffee table.

“No…” You answer as he sits down on the couch next to you

“Exactly, come here,” He says pulling you into his arms, he knew that the comments got to you sometimes, and that all he could do was reassure you that they don’t mean anything.

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

yourinstagram

📍 Singapore

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yourinstagram Race day in the Lion city!

PierreGasly Doing this one for you mon amour <3

-- yourinstagram Good luck darling <3

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You felt like the word was standing still, time had slowed, your breath catching in your throat.

No.

No.

No.

This couldn’t be happening. Pierre had lost control, the power steering had gone and his brakes had failed. There was nothing you could do except watch as his car hurtled along the track, spinning as it hit the barrier, being flown up and into the air when it hit the curb at the wrong angle; finally coming to a stop in the tire barrier.

Where was he?

The car was a smoking wreck, why wasn’t he out by now? You could hear the faint sounds of his race engineer trying to contact him but everyone in the garage knew that would be a lost cause. Then, suddenly, almost as quickly as it had all started, there were flames. Bright, hot, burning flames exploding from the rear of the car. Your hand clutched over your mouth as you had tried to look away, Pierre’s trainer spotted you and tried to lead you away into his drivers room, but you just couldn't take your eyes off of the screen.

Why wasn’t he out?

The red flags flew the moment He had hit the barrier so half the crew were supposed to be more concerned with Esteban’s car but nobody was. They were all fixed in place, unable to move as their eyes were glued to the screens. Marshalls sprinted towards the burning wreck, fire extinguishers in hand as they started to spray down the car. You saw him. Or at least you thought they did. A hand. There it was again. Waving. One of the marshalls ran forwards, spraying the area around him. You could just about make out Pierre trying desperately to pull himself out of the cockpit. Eventually the marshalls had thrown their fire extinguishers down and went in, both of them physically pulling Pierre out.

The screens cut away.

You let Ben take you out of the garage towards a quieter area where you could try and compose yourself. “Charles is outside asking for you,” One of the media personnel said after knocking on the door. You wiped the tears from your eyes and headed out. As soon as he saw you, He quickly wrapped his arms around you and you broke down again.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

It had been three weeks of the same. Arriving at the hospital at 9am, just as visiting time started, leaving at 9pm, just as visiting time ended. And despite how much you hated it, you refused to be anywhere else. He had remained unconscious for the first couple of days, those had been the hardest. Not knowing if he was going to wake up, His crash had been measured at 132G, nobody expected him to. But he did.

“Y-,” He muttered, softly moving his head. “Y-,” He said again, this time catching your attention. You rushed to his side, taking his hand in yours.

“I’m right here Pierre, I’ve got you,” You say, tears rolling down your face as he faintly squeezed your hand. As you held his hand you called for the doctor, having been asked to if he woke up. They assessed him as you sat there, Pierre was very reactive to any movement you made; squeezing your hand as you shifted positions, begging you not to leave his side.

She'll love you If you love her like that

After three long weeks in a Singaporean hospital it was finally agreed that Pierre could be moved to a hospital in Paris, much closer to all of his family; you had spent another three weeks in there as Pierre underwent different operations on his legs. They had become trapped between different parts of carbon fibre and metal during the crash; the base of his spine also having been damaged. That was why He couldn’t get out. 

The Hospital in Paris knew Pierre was itching to get out, that was evident to anyone that came to visit him. They released him pretty quickly and after six weeks in hospitals Pierre was finally free to go. Though he was nowhere near full health. He was in a wheelchair, unable to walk by himself. So one of the conditions of him being discharged was that you would find a place together in Paris, close to the hospital so He could attend all of his check-ups and rehab appointments.

By the second week Pierre was ready to give up. “Why are you still here?” He asked you one morning as you helped him get dressed. You knew he hated this, not being able to do things for himself.

“Because I love you,” You assured him as you handed him a shirt. Any ounce of independence he could have, you made sure to give him.

“There are many better men for you cherie, none of them need help getting dressed in the mornings. You don’t deserve this,” He said, and this wasn’t the first time He had shared this sentiment with you.

“But none of them are you, my love,” You reminded him. “I wouldn’t be doing this for anyone other than you,” You add as you put his feet through the legs of his trousers.

“T-thank you,” He says, voice faltering as you pull his trousers up his legs and over his ass.

“I’ve got you and I’ll always have you, I promise,” You say, pressing a kiss to his lips as you grab his wheelchair. Thankfully, that was the one thing He had gotten used to quickly, transferring himself in and out of the wheelchair, as that was probably the only thing you couldn’t have done.

She'll love you If you love her

He hated it, and you weren’t surprised. At the moment his sessions were only an hour long as He got tired and frustrated very quickly. You totally understood everything that was going on inside his mind. He had gone from being one of the fastest men alive to barely being able to take two steps without assistance.

Pierre had always said that He wanted you with him every step of the way, and when you promised that you would be, you really meant it. If that meant sitting in a chair on the far end of the room, so be it. He didn’t want you to help him, encourage him or anything. He hated showing you how weak he was. But you both knew He needed you there.

There were two long beams that he rested his arms onto as He tried to put one foot in front of the other. His physical therapist and rehab assistant had both assured Pierre that he had come on leaps and bounds since He first came through the door. Back then he was unable to stand up without help, but now he could get out of the wheelchair and lift himself up to hold the bars

She'll love you If you love her

You were sitting in the kitchen of your parisian apartment, working on your laptop as Pierre took a nap after his PT appointment. They always took everything out of him so the first thing He wanted to do was go to sleep. The apartment had been quiet for a few hours until you heard a crash from the bedroom. You instantly bolted from your seat and ran towards the sound; you found Pierre on the floor in the bathroom.

“-merde,” He swore as He tried to get back up. You went to help him but He pushed you away. “I don’t need your help,” He said through gritted teeth as he tried to stand back up.

“Just slow down and take a breath,” You said, repeating the words his physio had been telling him for months. He was always trying to do things at 100mph when he wasn’t capable. “Let me help you,” You say softly as you crouch down to him.

“I am so fucking fed up of slowing down,” He says and you nod, he had also been saying that for months.

“I know you are darling, but you’ll only hurt yourself more if you don’t,” You tell him as you offer your arm to him so he can stand back up. You knew why he had fallen, there was a slight lip on the doorframe to the bathroom that you had stubbed your toe on a few times, neither of you had noticed it when viewing the apartment and Pierre now had the tendency to drag his feet a little so it was bound to happen at some point.

She'll love you If you love her

Pierregasly

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PierreGasly The last 12 months have been tough. From being bed-bound to being able to take a few steps was a huge challenge; but we keep pushing forwards 👊

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The rest of the evening had been quiet, you cooked dinner for the both of you, Pierre silently taking his and eating in the study. That had been his one fault. He hated making mistakes; so tripping and falling like he did was a massive blow to his ego and dignity. He was already fast asleep by the time you went to bed, facing away from you so you just left him to it. 

When you woke up you realised he wasn’t there, feeling his side of the bed you found a small yellow post-it note.

‘Don’t move, i want to surprise you and make up for yesterday

-P x

You did exactly what the note said and stayed in bed, picking up your phone and answering some messages you had gotten; about 15 minutes later the bedroom door opened, Pierre came in holding a plate and a mug. He carefully placed the mug down on the bedside table before passing you the plate that had fresh berries and pancakes on. “You didn’t have to,” You say, taking a bite and you instantly recognise that this was his own pancake recipe he used to make for you all the time.

“Yes I did,” He says, pinching a blueberry off of the side of the plate. “I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you, you were only trying to help,” He says with a regretful look on his face.

“You’re still entitled to your feelings Pierre,” You remind him and He nods.

“I know I am, but that shouldn’t be at your expense, I’m sorry,” He says and you pull him into a soft kiss. 

On days when It feels like the whole world might cave in Stand side by side and you'll make it

The video starts to play, Pierre stands up from a chair across the room, walking towards the camera slowly, still slightly wobbly on his feet. “Hi Everybody, Pierre here. I know I’ve been very quiet on social media over the past eighteen months or so since the crash and that’s because I've really been focused on my recovery and the long process of learning to walk again. I wanted to tell you all what happened and that primarily, I’m ok. During the accident both my legs became trapped and I also shattered two of my lower vertebrae; that left me, for the first six months, totally paralysed from the waist down. I cannot even begin to express my gratitude to my physio team who have done everything they can to get me into the position I'm in today,” He says before there is a short montage of photos showing Pierre in hospital, then in the first few stages of physiotherapy of him learning how to stand up by himself. 

“I know that my journey is far from over, I’ve still got pins in my legs from where they were crushed, and only after they have been removed should I begin the road to full mobility. Whilst I've been recovering Formula One has been incredible in assisting with finding me the correct doctors to suit my injuries and keeping the door open to future plans. Y/N’s been quietly active on social media and has told me of quite a few tweets and comments about my possible return to racing and I want to clear things up. I hold absolutely nothing against Alpine, Formula One or the FIA about my accident, as it was exactly that. An accident, there was an investigation and there was nothing anybody could have done. However this does not mean I am ready or willing to return to racing; I have no plans to return to racing in the future, I feel I need to be investing more into my personal life, thanking those who have stood by me over the past two years. Y/N and I got engaged during that time so we are in the middle of wedding preparations and we could not be happier.” He continues before it cuts to more photos of the final stages of his PT and then the video of him proposing, He was still on crutches at the time and was unable to kneel but the sentiment was still there. “-And finally I want to thank all of you guys, my fans, all of your kind comments and messages are read and they really help me to get through those tough days. I probably won’t be very active on social media going forward so for now; thank you, and goodbye,” He says with a wide smile.

She's the best thing that you'll ever have She'll love you, if you love her like that

yourinstagram and PierreGasly

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yourinstagram Mr and Mrs Gasly - 23/8/2026

PierreGasly Cant forget about Pedro! 🐶

-- yourinstagram Never!

a few years later...

“Pierre,” The interviewer started. “We are now 5 years on from your near-fatal accident, how are you doing?” She asks. The studio hadn’t changed since the last time he was filming here during his career in F1.

“I’m doing really well; I’m back to pretty much full mobility, a little stiff here and there but my wife says that's just because i’m getting old,” He says with a laugh, you roll your eyes from behind the camera.

“We all saw the photos that she posted a few weeks ago, updating your fans on your life at the moment. Tell me about that, you always hear the horror stories of partners leaving because they couldn’t cope. How much does it mean to you that She stayed?” She asked as you were slightly taken aback…that wasn’t one of the prepared questions.

“It means everything to me…there were times during my recovery where I would tell her to go, to leave me and that she didn’t deserve this. But she stayed, and I don’t think leaving was ever an option in her mind. I owe her everything and I will spend the rest of my life trying to show her how thankful I am.” Pierre answers honestly, not looking at the interviewer, but looking behind her at you as He spoke.

“I love you,” You mouth back, aware you weren’t allowed to talk out loud but he heard you, loud and clear.

“I mean you guys were the ‘it’ couple in the paddock before the accident…now i think the entire paddock is jealous of the love the both of you share, it really is beautiful to watch you two,” She tells you both. 

“Have we got an extra chair?” He asks, looking over at the producers. One of the crew quickly moves a spare chair next to Pierre who stands up, holding out his hand to you. “Come join us…this is just as much your story as it is mine Cherie, I wouldn’t be here without you,” He reminds you as you cross the set to him. He presses a kiss to your forehead before you both take your seats.

finite

[katiefrog217]

Crowley wasn't good at doing it himself, but Aziraphale was more than happy to preen his wings for him.

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

Crowley wasn't very good at taking care of his feathers.

Aziraphale's were always so immaculately groomed. Rarely was a feather out of place, unless he was going through a particularly ill-timed molt. Some called it vanity, Aziraphale called it "looking presentable".

He could hardly blame Crowley for his lack of self-care though; his serpentine physique was hardly equipped with the tools to care for them. If it really got bad, he could always miracle them into shape, though he hardly even bothered to do that.

It had gotten to Aziraphale one day and he had set about fussing with the demon's wings, plucking out every errant feather and straightening the remaining ones. By the time he finished his task, the black feathers shone glossy and pristine in the lamp light. He puffed up with pride as he examined his handiwork, only to wither as realization doused him like a bucket of ice water.

He glanced nervously at the owner of the wings, realizing with a start just how many feathers lay strewn about them. He could make an entire second pair of wings with them, and just as well since he had dug deep and found feathers that should have fallen out 2 molts ago (really, how had Crowley managed to stand it? It must have itched like anything)! Crowley, for his part, lay beneath the carnage, coiled tightly around Aziraphale unmoving. His glasses had long been set side, and Aziraphale turned to find himself being watched by those beautiful golden orbs. He pondered for a moment if Crowley was asleep (hard to tell since serpents couldn't blink), but a small flick of a tongue when their gazes met proved him wrong. He wished he'd been right.

Aziraphale cleared his throat. "Apologies my dear, i-it seems I got quite carried away..." He mumbled awkwardly, embarrassment evident in his tone, his feathers puffing reflexively. It was practically the understatement of the century. 'Carried away'. Preening one's feathers was an inherently personal, bordering on intimate, thing. Crowley especially didn't seem to like anyone touching his wings and here he had spent Heaven only knew how long preening them himself, WITHOUT SO MUCH AS ASKING HIM FIRST--

He shifted uncomfortably when Crowley didn't reply immediately, choosing instead to leisurely inspect the angelic dove's handiwork. The silence was deafening, and Crowley seemed determined to stretch it out indefinitely as his slit pupils raked over each feather individually. Aziraphale desperately searched his gaze for anything he could discern, but only found concentrated scrutiny.

Then finally, finally Crowley turned his golden gaze back to him, his tongue flickering thoughtfully. Aziraphale's heart hammered with anxiety as he unknowingly held his breath, his wings shuffling awkwardly at his side. His fluttering heart nearly took off itself when he finally heard Crowley's low drawl.

"Mhm, thanks. They look... Better. Clean. Neat. It felt... Nice," Crowley said slowly, his s's elongating as he eeked out the rare compliment, the last part mumbled so quietly Aziraphale nearly thought he imagined it. Before he could muster a reply, Crowley dipped his head, laying it firmly beneath Aziraphale's feathery breast. His coils tightened as one came up to cover his face, shielding his eyes from view. Evidently, he was done talking.

Aziraphale stood there silently for a moment, letting his racing heart slow to a more normal rhythm before he thought of trying to extract himself from the demon's coils. He had bothered Crowley enough for one night, he thought. However, the moment he made to move, those newly preened wings stretched out on either side, trapping him in, he quietly resigned himself instead.

He would find later that preening Crowley's feathers would, as many other things between them had, become part of their routine. On nights when they look particularly egregious or found themselves with nothing better to do, they would settle in a warm corner of Aziraphale's bookshop, and allow themselves this quiet, yet delicate moment between them.

[mistydeyes]

suppressed feelings of hatred

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summary: With the 141 gone and transferred to somewhere unknown, your life should've returned back to normal but you still find your self haunted by a singular man.

part i - behind closed doors part ii - hollow apologies and avoiding glances part iii - half empty glasses with unchanging perspectives

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gn!reader (but like not even a pairing at this point lol)

okay real talk here and same psa as before but please do not read if you are not comfortable with ANY OF THIS! it is upsetting in all aspects!!

warnings: mentions of torture/violence/cuts/scars, swearing, blood, abusive language, ANGST GALORE

a/n: AS PROMISED here we have part iv! not as heavy as the previous ones but trust me it sets up the next part of their story. i also have a few asks in my inbox with some amazing ideas and thoughts on the story so be sure to look for a q+a coming up!

 💌 @nadinesabre @casualunknownrunaway @originaldeerhottub @justpasssingby @missroro @josieguts @miss-i-ship-it @sicknasty03 @jojoblossom @azwong @shadofireshinobi @caramlizedtomatoes @deltottoro @kenz-ee @teehee-47 @tiredmetalenthusiast @hollowmasque @strawberrychita @capricorn-anon @rapture2009 @studioghiblijiji @bitchoftoji @mikeswifie

and for @lirikonjaa mmmmm just gotta be searching for that happy ending bc HAHa DARK TIMES ARE BACK FOR ECLIPSE

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“Love, it’s time to wake up,” you could hear a voice reassure you as you stretched your tired limbs in the warm sheets. You lazily moved the hair out of your eyes as you adapted to the stream of morning light. The room was warmly aglow and smelled vaguely of cinnamon and pancakes. Despite the unknown location, you felt comforted by the figure by your side. “Did you sleep well?” the voice asked as you turned over. In your bed, lay Simon with a boyish smile on his rested face. His torso was exposed and revealed a soft web of silvery scars.“Well enough,” you replied as you put a hand on his turned side. He moved an arm to caress your form. His touch was soft as he ran his fingers along your naked body. As you embraced the radiant sun and his smile, you could feel his arm move up to your shoulder and neck. “What are you doing?” was all you could muster out before you felt his hands tighten ever so slowly around your neck. “I’ll make sure to do the job right this time.”

“GET OFF OF ME!” you screamed as you jerked forward. Your forehead was slick with sweat as you gripped the cold sheets. You tore them off, exposing yourself to the night air of your quarters. You couldn’t help but throw the bottle of Trazadone that was mockingly sitting on your nightstand. It was added to your hefty regiment after you complained of insomnia and the inability to relax. Now you were blessed with horrifying dreams and the image of a singular masked individual.

Mere hours later you made the quick jog to your workstation. You could see your reflection on the shined letters of the wing. THE EDUCATIONAL & TRAINING SERVICES SECTOR it read and you couldn't help but scoff. Rather than a decorated and experienced sergeant, you were relinquished to be a glorified teacher's assistant. As you entered the bright desk space, you greeted your commanding officer with a monotone, "Good morning." He followed you as you sunk down at the sturdy wooden desk with the current files of the newest recruits. "Fresh from Pirbright," he commented before patting your shoulder and walking away. Even at the slight, platonic touch, you could feel shivers envelop your body. You dug your fingernails into the woven fabric of your khaki trousers as you tried to slow your breathing. "Everything alright?" your colleague asked as she looked around her stack of the newest training programmes and manuals. You gave her a slight wave of the hand and returned to the files. "Someone needs their coffee," she commented under her breath and it took everything in you not to throw the stack at her bun.

The day dragged on painstakingly slowly as you flipped through the confidential files of young teenagers, so full of life and energy. You envied their excitement in the photos as through their stoic smiles, you could see light within their eyes. You were like that once, 16 and ready to serve your country. Emphasis on once. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into," you could feel yourself repeating internally. When it came to the next file, you immediately slammed it closed, cutting your index finger in the process. You held your finger to your mouth, feeling nauseous at the taste of iron on your tongue. You could feel the pressure mount as you felt the piercing gaze of the office center on your hunched-over figure. Before anyone could rush over with fake sympathies, you slowly opened the file as it lay mockingly on your desk. 

You held in all emotions as you looked at the singular picture of the newest recruit. The name and details of the potential soldier grew hazy in your eyes but that wasn't what you found yourself focusing on. The boy's eyes were brown, almost black in the darkened lighting of the Pirbright intake center. The darkness dissipated into his deep eye bags which conveyed sleepless nights and perpetual insomnia. However, what made your throat rise in anxiety and ears ring with white noise was the way the deep-set eyes and feathery lashes stared into your soul. For those weren't the eyes of this random recruit, they were the eyes of a pre-mature killer. The eyes of a future torturer who coincidentally resembled the singular man who haunted your every dream. They contained the aura of a cold-hearted man, the eyes of Ghost.

As you felt exposed under the strong gaze, you could hear someone clear their throat behind you. "Something the matter, Sergeant?" your commanding officer said, a hint of kindness and concern in his voice. You struggled to keep your cool as you turned back to him. "Just a little tired, Captain," you replied to the best of your ability, "you know the eye strain and all." As you covered your lie with a hollow laugh, he shook his head. "Take the rest of the day off," he instructed, "Pirbright isn't bussing them over until next week." With that, you got up from your desk and pocketed your few belongings. You could feel your fingernails pierce into the thin flesh of your palms as you exited. You wanted to scream the minute you entered back into the hallway to the barracks. You hated the way people looked at you like a kicked puppy or the sympathetic tones that laced every conversation. Hell, ever since last month, you should've been ecstatic. 

"We're transferring," Gaz said after a surprise visit to your side of the base. You were enraged at the bold gesture as he stood there in his stupid cap. He was in your safe space, the only place you could run away from it all and not have to have any reminder of them. To his "farewell", you nodded as you gritted your teeth. It was a thoughtless gesture that he saw through. A pitiful attempt to keep up appearances to the gazes of the office. "That's great news," you said, fake enthusiasm coating your voice. His smile faltered as he stuck out a hand to you. Staring back at it, you let your facade fall and put your hands back behind your back. "Goodbye, Gaz." you simply remarked before retreating out of his pitiful sight. 

Yet as you returned back to your dim room, you felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions. You kicked the closed door before turning on the lights to reveal a small manila folder on the ground. You cautiously approached it before picking it up gingerly and laying it on your desk. As you opened the folder up, you were distracted by a singular bold color in your periphery. A red post-it note. You found yourself grinning at the sight of it as you held it in your trembling hands. The file's contents were the least of your concerns as you smiled at the words scribbled in black ink. It practically looked like a calling card that answered your frustrations, as if someone knew and shared in your deep hatred for the 141. “Heard you needed someone, contact P.G. You know where to find him, Eclipse.”

[sunboki]

001. RECORD PLAYER LOVER — ANTHOLOGY

PAIRING. Christopher Bahng x fem. reader | WORD COUNT. 3.3k & 20 minute read | SERIES PLAYLIST. | WARNINGS. cursing | TROPE. enemies to lovers (somewhat), fishing town au, friends to lovers, coincidences, making-up (in a way)

( ✉️ ) — if you want an idea of where the small town boy! chan brainrot came from, seek this post back in july.. it only got worse from there(＞＜)

There’s a new guy working at the Record Shop you’d been to countless times as a kid. So when you show up and see a stranger working the register and not the sweet old man who’d give you lollipops, you’re not too pleased.

The last time a new face showed up in your town had to be before you were born, and as someone nearing twenty-one, that said a lot.

On the bright side, there wasn’t much judgment unless it came from choosing the wrong batch of strawberries in front of a grandmother, or perhaps that was simply your experience living here all your life.

Although, twenty-one years later, you didn’t expect for someone new to show up.

.

.

.

Familiar chimes clatter above your head while opening the door, bright blue label reading “Po’s Vinyl” decorating the windows and staining the tile floors an iridescent tone from the midday sunlight. It’s pretty, it’s ordinary.

Except something isn’t ordinary, because after a good few minutes or so of browsing, your normal stop by the register stops you in your tracks.

Clad in a black beanie with bouncy, tangled curls peeking from the fabric is a stranger. A stranger with toned arms and a pretty nose and kind features you stare at for too long.

But he’s not the grandpa, not Mr. Po who’s been dearly greeting you each and every day for more than twenty years.

Your stomach drops.

“Excuse me, excuse me,” You scramble to the counter, his warm pools for eyes flickering up with surprise. “Where’s the old man- Mr. Po- the one who works here?”

“Oh! Mr. Po? He retired a few days ago.”

Now your stomach decided to do backflips, and there’s a pit of nausea climbing up your throat.

Curse the boy in front of you for looking so happy-go-lucky. This moment is detrimental, why is he smiling? …And why is he cute?

Preparing to ask a billion questions, you pause, fixing the handsome man with an incredulous look before he catches onto your confusion.

”Sorry sorry, I’m Chris, ‘moved in last night. And you?”

Debating upon either running out the door right now to end up apologizing later, you crack a small smile you hope looks a tad bit more graceful than earlier.

Chris, huh.

“Y/n,” You reply, noting the soft dip of his dimples. “And uh.. you haven’t met Miss May yet, right?”

The question, coming off as more of a warning than anything, earns a sheepish shake of his head noticing your pitying expression.

Granted, the woman wasn’t that awful, she’s just.. Miss May. An unmarried, stubborn, seventy year old prune who will rightfully argue with anybody about anything and rightfully enjoy it. Not to mention her addiction to finding a suitable lover, and not just for herself.

Trust, once she lays eyes on this breathtaking hunk of husband in front of you she’ll never leave him alone. Might as well treasure your days until you’re stuck in the witch’s dungeon.

“Can I ask what you mean by that?“

Spaced out watching his lips move, you barely caught the question till he cleared his throat and every particle in your body resorted to self sabotage.

Way to make an introduction.

Opening your mouth to respond, you choke on your words, hastily run behind the counter and whisper-scream for him to duck at the sight of said woman passing by the window.

Speak of the devil.

At his attempt to peek out, your hand unconsciously forces his head down, slapping on your best “nothing to see here!” façade while the heel-wearing matchmaker saunters in.

“Why hello dear,” She casually drawls, thin brows raised.

The woman slowly grins, stepping forward to lean over the counter and peer down where Chris hides blinking up beside your calf.

“You can come out now.” She says with a chuckle, and he hesitantly raises up, face blooming pink.

Erupting with obvious delight, she claps her claws hands together, and you can feel the dread creeping in from a mile away.

“My my, I didn’t know you two knew each other- -“We don't!” Shouting in unison, you synonymously turn to each other, nothing but utter puzzlement etched across your faces. It’s like something out of a sitcom. Literally.

“He’s Chris,” Nervously, you refer to the man with an uncertain point of your finger, him doing the same.

You’re certain if this situation got any more awkward you may win a spot in the book of world records.

Miss May amusedly shook her head. “So you do- -“No!”

She might as well have been internally arranging a wedding by the way she stared through your souls, neither of you daring to move a muscle out of fear she might pop a ring out of her ass and declare you engaged if you breathed loud enough.

“Alright alright, I’ll leave you two to your business then.” Waving like some pretentious heiress, you make sure to mock the action once her back is turned—Chris stifling a bubbling laugh beside you when she finally leaves.

You have an itch this won’t be the last time she stops by. You’ll just pray it won’t be when you’re within a six foot radius of both this shop and the man next to you.

Sorry Chris, it’s every man to themselves with Miss May.

Brushing off your clothes, you step back slightly, not realizing how close you’d gotten to him before nearly bumping into the dark-haired man. And, in the least weird way possible (that's still weird), from your closeness, you discover he smells like the ocean. Not too salty, not too strong. Like the sea’s air clings to his clothing.

Considering he got here a day ago, he must’ve stopped by the harbor on his way here. Strange.

“I’m.. gonna go. See you sometime?” Heading toward the door, you spare a glance behind you, vision again magnetically pulled down to his lips—so plush and pretty, then back to those equally pretty eyes that crinkle when he smiles goodbye. A nervous habit.

Who knew a potential heartthrob would show up here out of all places.

Guess things were finally getting interesting.

Your trek home wasn’t too eventful, unless you counted locating Mr. Po, begging him to come back, and avoiding the severely bitter tea he kept offering—then yeah, not too eventful.

Jamming the key in your door and being sure to successfully waste at least three hours forcing the newest addition to town out of mind, you’d like to say by the time 6pm rolled around he was completely void of your thoughts, but the coffee stain on your shirt after imagining his face said differently.

Best part about not having a neighbor? Walking around without a top, bottoms, or anything on was always on the table. Sort of gross, but you get the picture.

Best part about not having a neighbor yet.

You should’ve put the pieces together sooner, because already halfway into pulling your shirt up off your head did you notice a pair of eyes meeting yours from the other, usually vacant house next door.

Chris’ eyes. Unmistakable and currently swimming with horror.

It wouldn’t surprise you if you looked the same right now.

Urgently yanking the fabric back over your body, you practically throw yourself down, met with nightmare-fueling reality and too much embarrassment to properly function nor rise from your squat on the floor.

Moved in last night, he’d said. But the one thing he forgot to mention was that he moved in right next door.

Fucking. Fantastic.

. ..

Over the next five days, you’ve come to the conclusion that Chris makes music. Or something involving headphones, his finger tapping a beat, and the occasional nod of his head to a rhythm—observations made from peeking out the window each evening.

It’s sort of mesmerizing watching him routinely click buttons. Like, in a sense, you learned the first clue about his life before telling him your name.

That is until he rises and you prepare to duck, fixated on his adam's apple bobbing when he swallows, pretty, still damp strands of dark hair crowning his forehead.

The last thing you need is for him to catch you ogling after having witnessed you half naked, something that would, quite literally, be the cherry on top of demolishing your ego.

Knowing him though (after only physically meeting once), he’d probably gladly forgive and forget, but you couldn't, and that was the problem. Couldn’t shake that incessant pit in your stomach telling you if it were anyone else you’d be able to move on.

Anyone other than him, other than Chris.

Something about him. There was something about him.

On the other hand, Chris couldn’t forget either. The image permanently tattooed in his brain for what felt to be eternity.

Not just your body (and also your body), but you, the incredibly attractive new acquaintance he’d met hours beforehand was, coincidentally enough, his neighbor.

And it didn’t take a genius to figure out you were avoiding him since, frankly, it was virtually impossible not to run into everyone in this town at least once a day.

He was a nice guy, so he gave you your space. Nevertheless, that didn’t keep him from picking some fun from time to time.

Like yesterday when he’d noticed you standing by your sink, repeatedly stealing not-so-sneaky glimpses.

Slyly deciding on honing the most nonchalant move in the book, he stretched. Rolling his head back, a tiny bit of his abdomen becoming visible when his arms raised up, and even sighing just to add to the ambiance.

Trying not to laugh had never been so difficult in his life.

Regardless, avoidance never lasted forever, and seeing you practically tiptoe around town was too obvious not to pay mind to.

So when the door to Po’s Vinyl creaked open during his evening shift, he craned to greet the customer, only to be met with bare space. Well, prior to noticing your hunched frame stalking through aisles, crouched down rather comically.

Biting his tongue, he watched you scour like a mad-woman, finally stilling in front of at a new arrival, the latest album restocked yesterday.

Turns out you were fated to run into each other again somehow. One way or another.

Maybe this was his chance to clear things up, or maybe that was the wrong move, maybe it would mess everything up and you’d move away and— Oh. You’re in front of him now, pale as a ghost and religiously averting eye contact.

“This,” You mutter, barely forming coherent sentences while sliding the album forward, hand wildly fishing through your bag in search of your wallet.

He stays quiet, periodically fixating on your expressions while scanning the barcode. Debating, contemplating.

“Hey can we—“

“Sorry! I really need to go to the vendors today, another time?” Scrambling, you snatch your purchase and rush off, ceasing to take note of the playful smirk painting his features.

He has an idea, an idea that may or may not work.

He’ll test his luck.

Spending the majority of his shift waiting for you to pass by again, he immediately locks onto your frame sprinting past an hour or so later.

Stepping from the store and calling out your name multiple times, it only makes you walk faster in response, leaving him to gradually catch up and move in front of you.

You try slipping past each side, finding yourself blocked every time. Your brows knit frustratedly.

“Y/n, can we talk, please?”

You sigh, stalling your movement to cross your arms and send him a taut gaze.

He can tell you hate this, hate standing here and especially hate his invitation, but the small, curt nod he got after a few seconds was enough.

Perhaps, that “maybe” would turn out true. The chance to clear things up.

He hoped.

. ..

“Look, I didn’t see anything.”

“Liar.” You grumble, jogging to keep pace without heading anywhere in particular.

If only you were a toddler and could throw a tantrum to get out of this due to simply being petty. Except you couldn’t. You were an adult, and you had to handle the situation like one.

What bullshit.

Flailing his arms helplessly, he tugged his jacket tighter against his body, the chilling air only dropping further as you neared the ocean.

“I’m not lying! Seriously!” Voice childish whilst avidly squirming around, the sound of gray rocks clattering beneath your shoes muffles your conversation.

He halts suddenly and you do the same, ceasing to acknowledge how far you’d aimlessly walked till the Lighthouse, located on the furthest side of town, looms above.

There’s a good minute of silence, interrupted by clearing his throat and simultaneously sending you a mischievous glance.

“Although,” He begins. “That red color was cute.”

You blink, watching as he gestures to his chest before swiftly dodging your swinging fist, looking mere seconds from exploding.

It’s sort of adorable.

Adorable in a dangerous, likely-to-kill-you way. But adorable.

Albeit expecting you to drown him, sucker punch him or suffocate him (quite possibly all three), you alternatively grab his hand, dragging him towards the Lighthouses’ entrance and up the winding rails.

Chris doesn’t interject nor pull away, face instead broken into a sweet smile while following you, observing you.

Arriving at the top that overlooked blue cascades, you sit down, not caring to explain with your knees pulled to your chest. He doesn’t mind.

It’s hard not to admire the endless abyss of water overwhelming every expanse in view, the moon’s glint scattering upon its surface. Wind whips your hair in wild directions, and it’s rather cold now above ground level.

Chris quietly hikes up the last few stairs behind you, easing off his jacket to drape around your shoulders—earning a hum of appreciation as he drops down on your right.

Silence.

“Hey, um, thanks.” He speaks, but his voice is softer this time, sadder this time, and if it weren’t for you two being mere inches apart you doubt you would’ve heard it.

“For what?”

“Nothing important. Just, thanks.” Peering at you with a tilt of his head, you decide not to pry, reflecting his subtle happiness.

Being completely honest, you don’t have the first clue of what Chris’ life was like before here. Somehow, it felt better staying that way. We all have secrets, and in a sense, this seemed to be his escape, his own secret.

Whatever his history entailed, you’re glad it led him to Seoul. Lead him to you.

“Awe,” You shove his shoulder lightly and the man pouts, cheeks dusted pink from the biting cold while his eyes stay trained on the sea, glimmering.

You sit there for a few minutes, listening, appreciating.

“Say, ‘wanna swim?”

The sky dark overhead, Chris gives you an incredulous look, wondering if you’re joking.

He’s quiet, eventually nodding and nearly toppling down the circular stairs after you, hastily pulling off your shoes to run through sand and scattered shells.

It’s stupid, so stupid swimming in freezing cold water at night.

Something the you who didn’t know Chris wouldn’t ever consider. But now he was here, currently taking off his shirt and— shit. He’s taking off his shirt. Holy shit.

Unfortunately, you weren’t given much time to be shocked (and mystified) before being picked up and literally thrown in, clothing and all very much intact.

Sputtering as you surfaced, you instinctively covered your top half, earning a giggle from the greek god of a man a few feet away, calf deep in the water.

“What’re you all shy for? ‘S not like I haven’t seen your—“ Now it’s his turn to be dunked, and you’re more than happy to force his curls into the water below, both drenched and shivering.

This is like a fever dream. Like you’ll wake up in your cozy bed to never have any of this happen in the first place. Never have had Chris happen in the first place.

Unable to contain the question, words basically pour out at an alarming pace the moment you open your mouth.

“Are you real?”

Because the moment feels too good to be true.

You both stop.

“Am I real? What, wanna find out?” He cockily points to his flexed arm, leaning your way while you shrink back, face contorted with disgust.

Best to have kept that one to yourself, but hell, you’d give in just this once.

Wading closer, you wrap your arms around his tummy in a sticky, uncomfortable hug. Chris doesn’t pull back though. Alternatively, he reaches up to pat the back of your head, surprised expression transforming into that of fondness.

You stay that way, wordlessly confessing so many things in a minute and a half as the stinging breeze seems to rattle your bones. Things you don’t have the courage to say aloud, things Chris understands all the same.

Walking home was a blur, filled with shapes and colors you barely recognized till the sound of a door opening knocked you back onto your feet.

Too cold to comprehend anything, you both race into separate rooms, coming to the realization this isn’t your home when searching for a towel to cover yourself.

Not your home, but his.

And you wonder if his setup is still situated directly in front of your window like normal. Wonder if, possibly, it was a coincidence you were now in the house you’d been staring daggers into for weeks, or if it all was a twist of fate.

How funny.

There’s quiet, childish interaction as he knocks on the door, sheepishly handing you a pair of his shorts and a t-shirt while his eyes stay glued to the floor.

Yet you can’t bring yourself to tease despite how bad the urge is, because he’s just him.

And you’re wearing his clothes. That too.

A hair dryer seated on his bathroom counter catching your eye, you pop your head out the door, yelling to Chris who’s busied himself somewhere in the living room.

“Hey Chris! Want me to dry your hair for you?” You shout, and he shuffles to make out what you said, practically lighting up witnessing you wearing his clothes.

The view is better than he could’ve ever imagined.

Laughter fills the air, all squeaky and high-pitched with you seated above him on the couch, occupying the floor while drying his wild curls that fly in every direction.

Clicking the off button, his head falls back to look at you, long eyelashes dusting and perfectly framing chocolate brown orbs. He’s practically glowing, and cupid has to be lingering nearby by how fast your heart thumps in your chest.

“…Can I spend the night?”

Whispering, you carefully place your hands on either side of his face, glancing back and forth erratically between his eyes and lips.

You don’t notice how close you are, a habit picked up from the start. He draws you in like a Siren, and you’re more than happy to senselessly follow his song.

His lips part, breathlessly uttering.

“Yes.”

And before you know it, you’re capturing his lips just as senselessly, kissing the man as if a near microscopic thread connected the both of you.

That is until Chris took charge, pulling your right-side up face against his upside down lips. Deeper, hungrier.

Crashing, like the moon-reflected waves you’d seen earlier. Messy and greedy, fervent. So many feelings, so many words without sound. You were good at doing that.

You’d like to admit it lasted for a few seconds, but from how you managed to somehow end up in his lap in the process, that definitely wasn’t the case.

“Here,” Chris says, handing you a warm mug of tea and settling beside you on the couch once you finally finished eating each other's faces, TV playing continuous episodes of Friends that numbly buzz your eardrums.

Neither of you spoke apart from exchanging drinks, atmosphere comfortable, exhaustion growing the longer you sat. Your eyelids began to droop before your head (unbeknownst to you) plopped onto his shoulder.

Initially Chris tensed, waking up from his own dazed daydream to marvel at the now sleeping beauty, you, cozied up against him.

He stared for a while, taking in what small interactions deprived him of. Those tiny details of you, the imperfect perfections. Beautiful.

Brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, he smiles—one that he can’t contain, one that hurts his cheeks from how big and bright it is.

“I’m so glad we met.”

> SERIES TAGLIST. @phtogravi @liknws @luckieleaf @jhstayy @meloncremesoda @chans1aptop @eternitywaveshello @meanergreener @ladylexis @love-gy-u @hanjingin @idkluvutellme @dark-anxel @yubinism @rachabreathing @seung-scrittore @fylithia @skzsupremacy @alrm02 @ener-energy @koliki @anskiiz @dprkbyn @bellamuerte1987 @ylixbok @hanjisung-enjoyer @youngunknownwitch @hwangflora @hanjiingin @starlost-andfound @taeriffic @flwerfield

sunboki, may 2022 ©

[nuncscioquidsitamor-13]

not really an expert in love

⋆˙⟡♡ (summary): honestly don't remember what this was about

⋆˙⟡♡ (warnings): Uhh kissing i think

⋆˙⟡♡ (notes): a fic i wrote on my old acc @/amorvincitomnia-14. That account got deleted and i thought i lost these fics but yipeee i found them on google docs :D

You are an idiot. Completely and entirely so. It's been about two weeks since the kiss and you have been avoiding Leo since. For a child of Aphrodite, you really are dense. 

It's not like you can avoid him fully; being on Argo II means there's not many places to hide. And plus you're supposed to be best friends with Leo, nobody else knows why you are suddenly running away whenever he appears. It's a shitty thing to do, you know that. But what else can you do? Are you ready for love? Was that kiss a mistake? 

So of course Annabeth tells you Leo needs help in the engine room, in a sort of way you can't say no. So here you are, standing awkwardly while you hand Leo various tools. You feel sick to your stomach, absolutely filled with nerves. How can you possibly begin to explain why you ran out on Leo?

After moments of silence, Leo speaks, “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with the kiss. I must have misread some signals or something” 

And your heart practically shatters. Of course he blames himself. How can you be so stupid as to hurt him? But your mouth is dry and there are no words coming out. You weren't uncomfortable with the kiss, just say that! 

“No, it's fine.” You manage to say, internally slapping yourself. A child of Aphrodite and major flirt. Yet here you are, awkward as can be. Why can't you explain your feelings? Leo deserves better. 

“Seriously though, can we talk? I don't want you to be upset with me.” Leo said, leaning back to look at you. He was dirty with oil staining his clothes, his eyes void of his usual impish gleam. You wanted to throw up. 

“What's there to talk about?” You replied, far harsher than you meant to. Leo winces, and looks away. 

“You've been avoiding me. I figure it's because of the kiss. But I don't want to lose our friendship because I misread something.” Leo replied, the sincerity in his tone making you want to cry. Why are you such an idiot?

And then you had to keep going, talking straight out of your ass. “I mean it was a mistake anyway. We can just forget it ever happened.” 

Leo looked shocked and then hurt. Like a dog tucking their tail in with defeat. You wanted to apologize and say anything to make him feel better again. But words fail. 

“Oh, if that's what you want.” Leo replied, any excitement in his eyes dying right before you. You froze, half wanting to run away and half needing to apologize. You unfortunately do the former. 

A couple days later and the rest of Argo II has had enough. Piper had taken it into her own hands. 

“Hey, can you get something in the storage room please?” Piper asked you, prompting you to agree pretty quickly. You can be nice, especially when it comes to your sister. 

You quickly realize your mistake when two things happen:

Leo is also in the storage room looking as confused as you

The door is now locked

Piper locked the door. Of course she did. You tried your best to stay calm and not act a total fool. Maybe you'll finally have your chance to apologize to Leo. Even if he looks very uncomfortable to you.

You were trying to say “I'm fucking sorry” or “Are you okay?” But unfortunately it came out as, “Are you fucking sorry?” 

You winced the same time as Leo before you quickly attempt to remedy it, “Sorry, I mean to say I'm so fucking sorry. Gods, I am so sorry.” 

You groan loudly, covering your blushing face with your hands. You wish the Earth could open up and simply swallow you whole. It would be a hell of a lot easier than dealing with the aftermath of the walking disaster that is you. 

The weirdest part is the fact you normally are extremely flirtatious. But that's when it comes to Leo Valdez, you are a complete, flustering, bumbling fool. 

You need to say this. You need to get it out and explain the utter way he consumes your heart. But right you can barely stand to look him in the eye without exploding with embarrassment.

“Alright, don't interrupt me.” You begin to say, eyes squeezed shut and voice shaky with nerves, “or say a word until I'm done. Because otherwise I'll just die of embarrassment. And I need to tell you this.”

When you don't hear anything you start speaking, parting your lips as the words flow. You describe the way his smile makes your heart flutter,the way his stupid, stupid jokes that always leave you breathless and grinning, the way his eyes light up when he talks about his newest inventions. You explain it all, you tell him the way your heart aches so heavily when avoiding him. How you've been an utter fool for so long, how you thanked the gods when he kissed you. 

You apologize for running away, like a coward. You explain that you were scared and embarrassed and too much of a wimp to confront him. You feel ridiculous for rambling this long but you keep going; you can't stop. Not until-

He says your name, in a way you've never heard before. It was low and softened around the edges, intimate and solely for you.

You hesitantly look up at him, your heart stalling when you see the look in his eyes. He looked at you like you are his entire universe, his entire reason for existing. That was enough to make anyone swoon, especially a child of Aphrodite like yourself. You don't even realize you had been crying until Leo's hand brushes against your cheek to wipe them away. 

“Can I kiss you?” He asks softly, his face inches away from your own. You nod slightly, lips parted instinctively. Your hands find their way to clutching the front of his camp shirt, his hands locked into your hair.

Finally Leo leans in, his lips pressing against your own. It's like everything you've dreamed and not at the same time. His lips are chapped and rough, but they tasted sweet. Your heart flutters in your body, rising and rising like a butterfly ready to fly. Your mouth opens, his warm tongue slipping through as he explores your mouth. It was like your first kiss but so much better, it was so perfect.

Leo pulls away, cheeks flushed and breath heavy. But he has an idiotic grin on his lips that likely matches yours.

“Are you still mad at me for ignoring you like an idiot?” You ask, unable to fight the smile on your face and the affection in your eyes. 

Leo pretends to take a moment to consider, his hands slipping to your hips as he pulls you closer. He gives you a smug smirk and whispers in your ear, “I'm still mad but if you give me more of those kisses, I might change my mind.” 

He didn't have to say it twice.

[serafilms]

song 15! 10:36 (beabadoobee) + dan heng (spotify wrapped event)

i know you thought it was just us, i didn’t think you’d fall in love, you’re just a warm body to hold at night when i’m feeling all alone

Dan Heng knows you often have trouble sleeping.

You aren’t like March 7th, who has probably the most normal sleeping habits, or the Trailblazer, who is a little paranoid in a new environment but can conk out in two seconds flat, and you certainly aren’t like Dan Heng, who foregoes sleep frequently by choice. You like to sleep, but you just can’t do it well.

Your first night on the Express, he heard a clatter coming from the hallway and went out to find you rummaging through the storage closet looking for an extra pillow.

He frowned. “Is yours too flat?”

Your face flushed a little, and he had the fleeting thought that you looked pretty like that.

“No, I’ve just always had some trouble sleeping comfortably, but uh…. it gets a little bit better when I’m—“ you paused and gave an awkward little cough. “—hugging something.”

Dan Heng didn’t really know what to say, so he went back into the Archives and brought out his own pillow. At your protests towards accepting it, he simply replied that he wasn’t going to sleep that night. “We stop at Belobog tomorrow. I’ll get a new one there.”

Then, as he was walking back to his room, he turned his head back and cleared his throat. “Ah, goodnight.”

As he glanced at his reflection in the data bank, he noted that his cheeks were a little pinker than usual.

It’s exactly because you have trouble sleeping that he’s stuck in this predicament: lying in your bed as stiff as a board with your sleeping body clinging to him.

Earlier today, he sat beside you on a high speed airship on some obscure planet, and you held onto his arm to keep from being tossed around. He felt something hit his shoulder a few minutes later and found you fast asleep. He turned red, scowled at March when she took a photo and upon your mortified apologies when waking up had given you an offer.

“It was the best sleep I’ve had in ages,” you told him sheepishly.

Dan Heng is a logical, coolheaded man. So there was really no excuse for when he blurted out, “I can sleep in your bed tonight if it helps.”

Now, his heart is beating a mile a minute and he swears the heat from his face has raised the room temperature by about five degrees Celsius.

And as he lies there, watching your peaceful face, he curses himself because he knows that he would put himself through this a million times just so you could be like this.

This thought comes paired with a horrible realisation. You need him in order to sleep, but he needs you in order to live. He needs you more than you need him, and he isn’t sure how he feels about having that weakness.

Dan Heng breathes in and tries to calm his beating heart. He can figure this out in the morning. Right now, it’s just us.

He relaxes his muscles and allows himself to feel your warmth. He closes his eyes and holds you as he drifts off to sleep.

[so-mordor-itis]

Never Out of Sight

Synopsis: Leon finally returns home after a rough week of work, and you're there to welcome him. He's allowed to feel normal for once and ignore his responsibilities, going back into a world that did not have a use for a gun at every turn. Though, he still awaits that inevitable call that will burst his bubble of normalcy and force him to leave again.

I got inspired by @uhlunaro 's Enough series, and honestly, I got a lot of angst planned, so I decided to give Leon fluff instead! I'm also trying out a different style so I apologize if it feels different than my usual formula

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Kinda edited, I finished it at like 2 a.m., so apologies. Also, there's suggestive content in here if you don't like that kind of stuff

I.

The click of a lock echoed throughout the living room. Leon entered the threshold with a sigh, removing one of his boots and tossing it to the side of the front door. The other followed shortly, landing on the ground with a thud. It was still early in the morning, the apartment still a grayish color as the sun barely began to peek out. He wondered if you heard him; it would be hard not to. He was a bit careless, but with the way his muscles ached and yelled for rest, he couldn't help it.

The apartment smelled of cleaner and air freshener. You had probably just done some spring cleaning–he could easily imagine you worrying about him as you scrubbed dishes and mopped the floor of the kitchen. Guilt entered his system, and he decided pondering on that would make him feel worse.

The most obvious thing to do was shower, and immediately after climb into the bed you two shared to grab you close and hold you until you groaned at him to let go because he was stronger than he thought. His heart ached now, wanting that more than ever.

Though, his screaming muscles won. Once he laid eyes upon the couch, he fell on top of it. Leon told himself he could shower later before succumbing to his exhaustion.

–

He was home. You knew he was home because the air of your apartment was different. The smell of rust and his stale cologne greeted you once you opened your eyes, and your heart felt full. You were slightly disappointed he didn't settle next to you for his rest, but you figured he must've had an incredibly exhausting week. You wouldn't give him too much shit for it.

After contributing to your daily routine, you entered the living room to find his sleeping form. Leon was still in his work t-shirt and jeans, even forgetting to take off his socks. He had one of his arms draped across his eyes, and soft snores were escaping him. The last time he was this exhausted, he slept till 4 in the afternoon. You supposed this would be a similar case.

Nonetheless, the last thing you wanted was to wake him. He was a bit of a grumpy bear when he never got enough rest. He'd never admit it, but he hated feeling tired. Made him feel strange, as if he couldn't do anything.

You poured yourself a cup of orange juice–quietly of course–before glancing at him again. Your eyes ran over his form, watching the way his chest fell and rose.

"Welcome home, Leon." You whispered. For once, you felt at peace. He came home to you once again.

II.

The rest of your day consisted of working from home and reading. The thought of turning on the TV and waking him made you feel bad, so you decided it was time to stop procrastinating on your work and actually be productive.

You had just finished your latest outline when you heard shuffling in the living room. Your heart leaped with anticipation. You were wrong with your estimation, but you were glad he got sleep regardless.

"Sweetheart?" His voice called to you.

You couldn't contain the smile that was curving. "Coming," you replied.

The moment Leon saw you exit your office space, his eyes softened, and he instinctively pulled you into his arms, a groan of satisfaction left his lips. He needed to see you bad, and you felt it.

“Long week?” You asked, voice muffled against his shoulder.

“You have no idea.”

You didn’t, with Leon having to be secretive about certain details of his job, but you didn’t want to pry into it. You knew he was a hard worker, and that’s all you needed to know. Though you would’ve been lying to yourself if you said you enjoyed the fact he came home with bruises or broken bones. At least now, as you looked at him, observed his face, you couldn’t find any noticeable injuries.

“If you wanna talk about it, I'm here, you know."

“I’m just happy to see you, that’s enough for me.” Leon mumbled into your hair, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Don’t wanna talk about it anyway.”

“If you insist,” you said to him, a hint of teasing in your tone. You slipped from his arms–a noise of protest coming from Leon in the process–to open the fridge. “Are you hungry?”

“I practically slept half the day, so, yeah,”

“Well,” you said, scanning the contents of the shelves. “We have two options: Takeout or–Leon,” you grumbled, watching as his arm came into view. He grabbed the milk carton, but he didn’t have it long since you swiped it from him.

“What?” He looked slightly startled.

“I know what you’re gonna do,” you pointed an accusing finger. “you’re gonna drink it straight from the carton–what are you, a heathen?”

“How did you know that's what I was going to do?” He pouted a little, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him. You were supposed to be irritated at him. You couldn’t let his stupid, handsome face win this time. "I could've been on my way to grab a cup."

You sighed. “You’re not very sneaky. You left the cap sitting on the counter last time."

“Oh, come on, it’s not that bad.” He tried to nab it from you, but you were quicker than him. You knew his tricks.

“You have germs, Mr. Kennedy, don’t contaminate the milk.” You smiled at him.

“I have germs, huh?” There was a glint of mischief in his eye, and it made your stomach flip. You knew what that look meant. Leon stepped a foot closer to you, and you suddenly felt nervous.

“Leon,” you warned, unable to contain yourself from letting out a small laugh. “Don’t you dare–”

He was fast, too, proving so by catching you by your waist when you attempted to flee. You squealed. His warm breath tickled against your cheek as he let out a chuckle, clearly amused with himself. When he started to place kisses all across your face, you jabbed him in the abdomen. It didn't phase him.

"Hey, that could have hurt, you know," he said, cupping your face to plant an actual kiss to your lips. "I could've been bruised there."

You grinned at his taunting tone. "You would've said something." God, you loved him. More than anything.

He kissed you again, bringing you closer before picking you up bridal style. You let out a squeak at suddenly being off the ground. "Hey!"

He gently plopped you on the couch, hovering over you, love now clear in his azul eyes. Your heart melted. "God, I missed you." He admitted. "Promise me you won't ever change, sweetheart."

"Not even with a gun pointed to my head," you told him.

He kissed you again, harder. You swore he knew exactly what to do to everytime to bring you to your knees, to make your legs feel as if they were made of jelly.

Welcome home, Leon.

—

III.

You forced him to shower after your excursion. At first, he grumbled, mentioning his aching muscles, and getting up was not in his itinerary.

"If your muscles were aching," you commented, "You certainly didn't show it earlier."

"Well, that was different."

"Leon, you should shower, you stink."

"You certainly didn't say anything earlier." Leon used your own words against you. You felt him smirk, and you lightly smacked him. He was currently laying his head on your chest, your fingers fiddling with his hair–he loved when you did that.

Eventually, he did remove himself from you begrudgingly. It gave you a view of his body; the scars on his legs, arms, back. It painted a picture of what he went through, of what he had done, had sacrificed. It hurt to look at him sometimes because it reminded you that there were some scars you couldn't help him with.

III.5

That night, you swore he held onto you just a little bit tighter. Perhaps hoping you wouldn't be awake to notice.

Something happened during the last week of work, but he was trying so hard not to show it.

IV.

A few days of serenity passed. Leon had offered to actually try cooking for once, but you didn't let him. The last time he tried it was on your one year anniversary and he wanted to make pancakes. The ending result being black, hardened pieces of charcoal. You remembered the smell lasting for a week, and he apologized for causing trouble.

You had done the cooking, much to his dismay.

("I wanted to at least do something while I can. I don't know when they'll call me in."

"Well, if you're so inclined, you could always do the dishes afterwards, Lee."

"I meant something for you."

"That would be doing something for me!")

You had been working in your office, Leon catching up on the news, as you heard a phone ring from across the hall. Your heart dropped, knowing it was his work phone.

You tried to ignore his voice answering it with business, grasping onto the last bit of time you'd hear it echo throughout the apartment.

He leaned against the doorway moments later. He sighed, an apologetic look on his face. "I'm sorry, sweetheart, they uh–they need me back."

You shrugged. "It's okay. I already figured anyway."

"It's really not okay, but duty calls." He had the same look of dread in his eyes whenever he was called back into work. You had told him maybe it was best to leave, to possibly find something that would be better than what he had. He only shook his head, not elaborating why. "I'll try to come back as soon as I can."

You wanted to put on a brave face, to simply smile at him and tell him to go ahead without any worries in your heart. You couldn't.

You got up from your seat and wrapped your arms around him. He returned the gesture greatly, once again kissing your temple as he buried his nose into your hair. "Just come back in one piece, yeah?" You said, voice cracking to your displeasure.

"I'll always come back to you." He affirmed, tilting your chin up. "I'd fight through hell if I had to."

"Don't forget I love you."

"How could I?"

–

You watched as he grabbed the boots he had flopped on the floor, grabbed his keys, and grabbed that stupid phone that filled him with dread. And you watched him as he kissed you a gentle goodbye.

As he was about to leave, you called him. "Leon,"

He turned to you without a second thought.

"I love you."

His face melted from serious to bittersweet. "I love you, too. More than you know."

He left soon after, taking your heart with him.

The house felt empty again.

--

@amatxs , @boundinparchment , @inaflashimagine , @izuniias , @airanke , @itoshisoup , @fugufishie , @spookluckpuck