#hi i'm stressed so i made another drabble into a fic

[thiswasinevitable-rwrb]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston, Red White & Royal Blue (2023) Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Nora Holleran Additional Tags: Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Hitman Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor Needs a Hug, Henry is still the prince, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Gay Disaster Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Bisexual Disaster Alex Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Loss of Parent(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Mutual Pining Summary:

Acquiring the Prince of Wales’ name in his Burn Book, so to speak, had not been a surprise in Alex’s line of work. What had been a surprise, was that someone wanted the fourth in line for the throne dead.

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Could you write constant cuddles because they're touch-starved with boyfriend/husband Tony, with him being the touch-starved one?

Touch-starved

PAIRING || Husband!Tony Stark x Avenger!Wife!Fem!Reader

WORDCOUNT || ~ 950 words

SUMMARY || Tony has been touch-starved for as long as he can remember, but he has been doing a lot better since he met you. However, when you're gone for a long mission without him, it gets worse, and he's clingier than ever when you return.

RATING || Mature (M)

TAGS || Canon compliant. Angst with a happy ending. Touch-starved Tony. Mentions of anxiety, stress, and depression (non-descriptive).

A/N || This is written for my Summer of Drabbles. This was been the first time I dove into Tony being touch-starved, but it was such an interesting topic to explore! I hope to get into this more in longer fics at some point, but for now, I hope you all enjoy it. This is not proofread; any and all mistakes are my own. 🤍

Photo: Source || Other graphics are made by @nicoline1998enilocin

Main Masterlist || Tony Stark || Summer of Drabbles

For as long as Tony can remember, he has been touch-starved. He may not call it that, persé, but looking at the symptoms, you both know that's precisely what it is, and it's even worse when you're not with him.

When you and your husband are together, in whatever capacity that may be, he's always touching you in one way or another—from lying a hand on your thigh when you're sitting next to him to wrapping himself around you like a koala bear and everything in between.

When you are not with him, however, it gets worse. He shows signs of depression, his appetite is a lot less as a result of anxiety about your whereabouts, his stress levels are through the roof, and he rarely sleeps - only falling asleep when exhaustion has taken over his entire being.

The past two weeks haven't been exactly easy for you, as you've been gone on a mission with Steve, but each moment you had a bit of time to yourself, you could feel your mind wandering to Tony and how he must be doing now that you're not there.

"Is it okay if I call Tony?" you ask Steve as he controls the QuinJet that's bringing you home. He nods with a reassuring smile before returning his gaze to the sight in front of him.

On the first ring, your husband picks up, and you're relieved to hear his voice.

"Hi, my sweet Angel," Tony says as he answers, and your heart beats so fast, it might as well leap out of your chest as you hear his voice. You love your husband so incredibly much, and to listen to his voice again is something you'll always look forward to.

"Hi, Handsome," you say, and Tony immediately smiles. Your voice always calms him down, and he's been looking forward to hearing it since you left.

"We're on our way home now, and I missed you so much," you say, followed by a sigh as you close your eyes. Memories of your husband flash through your mind as you do, and you can't help but smile.

"I missed you too, Angel, and I'll be right where I always am when you're home. How long will it be before you land?" Tony asks, and when you let him know, he hums in response.

"I can't wait to see you again, Handsome. I'm looking forward to holding you in my arms again and ordering take-out once we've taken a shower," you say, and Steve clears his throat, letting you know he can hear everything you're saying. You roll your eyes before you give him a playful swat against his arm, and he smiles at you.

"Hmm, I can't wait either. I love you so much, Angel," Tony says, and your cheeks heat up at his words. Even after so many years, his "I love you " gets you flustered, but in the best way possible.

"I love you too, Tony. I'll see you soon," you say before hanging up. The rest of the flight is spent mainly in silence, but neither you nor Steve mind. The anticipation of reuniting with Tony fills you with relief and joy. Once the QuinJet has landed safely, you quickly make your way to the exit, eager to see your husband again.

As promised, he's standing right outside the hangar where the QuinJet is stored for now, his arms spread wide. A smile lights up his face, though you can tell he's definitely been very stressed and tired when you were gone, as it's clearly visible on his face.

You also fall into his arms with a giant smile, and you wrap your arms tightly around your husband's waist, pulling him as close as possible. This moment has been on your mind since you left, and having him in your arms again makes every mission worth it.

"I'm so glad you got home safe, Angel. I have been so anxious and stressed when you were gone," he admits, and you nod as you pull back just enough to cup his cheeks. You lean in to place a small kiss on the tip of his nose, making him smile as you do.

"I know, Handsome, but I'm here. I'm safe, and I'm in your arms again. We can cuddle as much as you want now, okay?" you say, and he nods before putting his hands under your thighs and lifting you so you can wrap around him like a koala bear. The physical closeness brings a sense of warmth and security to both of you.

"I love you, Angel, and I'm not letting you go anytime soon," he says as he walks both of you into the Compound and towards his penthouse, where the first few hours will be spent with cuddles and kisses until it's time to take your shared shower and order take-out.

Now that you're home, Tony feels like the pieces of his soul have been put together again. He has his Angel back, and he will not let you go for as long as he can help it. You're definitely not one to complain about it, either.

"I love you too, Tony. And I'm happy to be home and be with you again," you say before nuzzling into his neck. Once you're in bed, you can feel the relief wash over Tony as he curls up against you, comfort and peace seeping into every fiber of his being.

It doesn't take long for him to fall asleep in your arms, finally getting the sleep he's been missing out on when you were gone. You play with his hair until you fall asleep, finally feeling safe with your husband in your arms.

[azrakaban]

Distractions - Blaise Zabini

A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333

Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx

Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333

...

"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic. 

"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.

"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck. 

He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you. 

The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him. 

Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama. 

Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close. 

Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting. 

You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up. 

He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you? 

Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck. 

Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore. 

You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.

He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...

Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him. 

Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief. 

He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong. 

(time skip to the next morning)

YOUR POV:

You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee. 

"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes. 

You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough. 

"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.

"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon. 

"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath. 

"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation. 

"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.' 

You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny  and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.

McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you. 

"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face. 

You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."

You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you. 

Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you." 

You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?" 

Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."

"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.

"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.

You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.

...

You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.

You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.

He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.

"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.

"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.

You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.

You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"

Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.

"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.

He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.

You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."

You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.

Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.

You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."

He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."

...

A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3

[thewhumpcaretaker]

ok ok ok your sub! john drabbles actually gave me the best idea. tattoo artist x john wick

tattoo artist reader is there to comfort him and make sure he’s okay and doesn’t pass out esp if it’s his first tattoo.

also writing this made me remember a fic i read that’s not finished but breaks my heart

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21060659/chapters/50100092 if you want to read 🖤

Thank you so much for this ask!! I've been thinking about this idea for a while actually. There was another ask about this a long time ago, maybe on my JohnWickCaretaker blog? I can't find that one, but if that was also you, then thanks a second time. Also, yaaaaay, fic recommendation! 🖤

John Wick x Tattoo Artist Reader (Gender Neutral)

Author's Note: John is a little younger in this one (I’m picturing him being 18-19), so he’s not as mature. He’s even more shy and gets defensive more easily. Also, I'm not a tattoo artist, and haven't gotten any tattoos, so this is just based on what I've read about it!

CW: forced to get a tattoo, tattoo needle, crying, reader swears frequently, bittersweet ending

Image sources: 1 2 3

“You have time for a walk-in?”

You didn’t even hear this guy open the door. Once you’re done being startled, you notice…him. You’re not supposed to let yourself think this way about clients, but shit, he’s cute. He looks soft. Mostly clean shaven, with a thin, elegant face (maybe it’s the high cheekbones), topped off with a mop of dark hair. And probably inexperienced, based on how nervous he looks. A little part of you wonders how this is going to go for him. “You’re in luck. What’s your name?”

No answer.

“Can I see an ID?”

He hesitates awkwardly. “I’m coming from Mrs. Petrov.”

Oh. So he’s one of these. You doubt that’s her real name, but Mrs. Petrov sailed into your shop one day offering to double the usual price if you’d keep quiet and ask no questions, and you sure need the money. Your skin is crawling a bit but you take a deep breath and get into it.

“Okay, good enough for me. What design are we looking at?”

He hands you a paper. It’s the same one you’ve seen half a dozen times: hands touching in prayer over an image of the cross. Guys come to you for this tat again and again, “from Mrs. Petrov.” One told you it was a mark of his acting troupe, another said it was a family crest, another a symbol of his church. They’re probably all lying, but you know better than to call them on it – or to turn any of them away. You’re pretty sure it’s a mob thing. It breaks your heart a little bit to think he’s caught up in all that. He doesn’t look the part. But then, you also know better than to judge by looks alone.

You gesture to the chair. “Settle in, face down. It’s better if we have your shirt off.” He’s way too delicious underneath it. The perfect canvas...shhhhh stop it. You’re a professional and he’s…god knows what. “This will take about four or five hours. Is that okay?”

He nods.

“Silent type I guess?”

That gets a faint smile before he lays across the bench, chin resting on folded arms. You flip the Open sign to Closed, pull on your gloves, and start prepping tools. You turn on the radio to 80s rock, filling the silence between you - though it doesn’t feel like a stressful silence, surprisingly. Both of you know how odd this situation is and you’re both just trying to get through it. There’s a camaraderie to that.

You glance down at the design in your hand and whistle. It’s pretty big, taking up most of the center of his back, between the scapulas. “Is this your first tattoo?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well I’ll be real with you: this is going right over the spine, so you can expect some pain. Nothing that’ll kill you, just…not super pleasant. So I’ll check in from time to time, see how you’re doing. If you need a break, we can take one.”

“I won’t.” He sounds pretty sure of that. Standing behind him, you shake your head. It’s always the ones that are so sure…

“Well, after a while, I’ll need one.” You run disinfecting wipes over the center of his back and set to work. When the needle touches down for the first time, he winces once, but he doesn’t wince again for the next ten minutes of linework. It takes you that long to realize that he’s barely breathing. “Your muscles are tense, buddy. I need you to relax for me or this will hurt more.”

“…I just…don’t want to move.” There’s something so sweet about the way he says it.

“You won’t move. You’re actually less likely to shake if you can let yourself go totally limp, like you would if you were about to fall asleep. Here, sit up for a second, take a deep breath, and stretch out.” He listens, but he’s not looking at you. You’re pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Okay. I’m relaxed.” Liar. You can still feel the knots in his muscles when you touch him again. But at least it’s a little better than before, and he’s getting impatient. “Keep going.”

Well, the customer is always right. “Alright, let’s do it.” You grab your pen and get back into place. The best you can do is try to distract him. “How did you choose this tattoo anyway?” Might as well see what story this one will make up.

“I didn’t.” That’s probably the truest answer you’ve heard so far.

“Do you…like it?” God, you hope so.

“Not really.”

“…You’re telling me I’m putting something on your body right now that you don’t want there?”

“No,” he says, a little too quickly. “Forget it.”

That’s probably for the best anyway. You’ll get too pissed off if you keep going down this line of questioning. You take a deep breath and try for something lighter. “So what do you, uh…do for fun?”

“Reading, mostly.”

“Oh, sweet. You read anything good lately?”

“Kind of. I’m reading Anna Kerenina.” He slips into a faint accent when he says it, and you have a suspicion.

“What translation?”

“Just the Russian.” He sounds a little annoyed, like you caught him out on something. You suppose you did, and it was kind of fun.

“Bilingual. That’s badass.”

“Thanks.” There’s silence again for a minute, but it feels friendlier.

“So what do you think of it?”

“It’s...fine.”

You wrinkle your nose. “Yeah, it’s kind of dry.”

“I guess, but I don’t mind that. I just don’t like Anna and Vronsky. Which is Tolstoy’s whole point, but…”

“They’re both little shits to everyone. Makes it hard to get invested.”

“Right, exactly.” He shifts his chin. “If I was married, I can’t imagine cheating.” From some people, a line like that would sound like a transparent attempt to come across as a “nice guy.” But he says it so wistfully, you know he means it.

Don’t say what you’re about to say. Don’t say it. Be professional.

…Fuck it, you’re doing this under the table anyway. “Are you dating anybody?”

“No.” It sounds so bitter that, for a second, you think you really are dealing with a nice-guy-impersonator. But then he clarifies. “My…lifestyle doesn’t allow for that.”

“Oh.” You can’t think of any way to reply that doesn’t involve the burning questions in your mind about what exactly this “lifestyle” entails. So you lapse into silence again, for much longer this time, just thinking, wondering what it’s like to be one of these young men with the cross tattoos. Are they all friends with each other? What exactly do they do? Is it difficult? How does it pay? How did they get into it?

You stop when you’re done with the linework. “Okay, that went great! We’re totally done with the outlines, which is half the battle. I’m going to take a break before we start on the shading.” You circle around in front of him to grab your water bottle, and catch a glimpse of his face as he’s straightening up.

He’s wiping off silent tears.

Your heart almost drops out of your chest. “Oh shit. Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, but it sounds hoarse and shaky. “Just hurt more than I expected.” He huffs a laugh, trying to play the whole thing off as unimportant.

“Dude, I told you we can take breaks if you need. If you’re crying from pain, you’re too tensed up. Tell me next time, alright?” Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re rubbing his shoulder. He freezes for a second, and you pull back. “Sorry, I – I didn’t mean to – “

“No, it’s okay. I’m just not used to that.”

“Damn, how do they treat you at Mrs. Petrov’s place?” You’re half joking, but you want to know more and more by the second. And when he just looks grave and doesn’t answer, your heart does that weird dropping thing again.

“…Let me get you a water, okay? I’ll be right back.” You’re grateful for the short walk to the mini fridge you keep in the back of the parlor. It feels so heavy in that room. You’re starting to wish you hadn’t taken the deal, because whatever this is, you don’t want to be involved.

When you come back, he’s perfectly composed again, but looking at you more carefully this time, like he’s finally really seeing you. After he takes a drink of water, he hesitates for a second. “My name is Jardani.”

Warmly, “Nice to meet you.” You take the bottle back and set it on the table, within reach. “You’ll tell me if you get overwhelmed next time?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’m trusting you.”

You watch him settle in and get back to work. It’s okay at first but there’s a dark shadow under those praying hands that needs to go right over his spine. It’s basically pure black. A couple minutes into it, he exhales sharply, like he’d been holding his breath for a while. “Stop.”

You set your pen down right away. “You got it.” You pull up a chair next to him and he turns to look at you, without sitting up. He’s really pale. “How are you feeling?”

“Lightheaded.”

“Yeah, you can pass out if you get tense like that for too long. But you’re okay. We can take as long as you need.” You put your hand on his shoulder again, massaging it, and this time, he lets you. You can feel some of the tension finally seep away and the color returns to his cheeks. The dark pools of his eyes are fixed on yours, and if you aren’t careful, you feel like you could fall into them and drown. There’s something trapped in cold waters down there, pleading for rescue.

Yeah, sure. If you were being unprofessional before, now you’re being a downright sentimental fool. This guy has probably shot people.

Despite being deep and rumbling, his voice sounds so quiet that it’s almost shy. “You don’t know what this means to me, to have a…nice moment... Thank you.”

“Oh – you’re welcome. It’s nothing, really.” You’re absolutely done for. “Um, do you want to stand up and stretch before we get back at it?”

“Mm-hm.”

Your brain is fried but you manage to hold it together while the both of you get back into position. The rest of the session goes pretty smoothly, and you talk a little more here and there. At first it’s just about how he should take care of this thing when it’s finished – staying out of the sun and all that. But then he starts to ask you about yourself - what you read, how you got into tattooing, your favorite designs. Everything you say seems to interest him. You can’t quite believe it but he’s obviously developing a crush on you. Or at least getting attached in some way. You can’t blame him, if the smallest friendly touch is such a foreign concept.

It's too soon when you place the finishing touches. “Okay! You want to take a look?” You help him up, his hand resting in yours for an instant as he slides off the bench, stiff and probably aching. It sends a jolt straight to your heart, to support some fraction of his weight and to feel the way his fingers squeeze down on yours before letting go. You mourn the contact instantly, and distract yourself by adjusting the two mirrors that reflect into each other, allowing him to see his back. “What do you think?”

“It does look cool actually.” He cracks a little heart-melting smile, and you’re really relieved. He may not have wanted it, but at least he’s not devastated.

“’Course it does, it was done by the best in the business,” you joke. Though to be honest, you really are impressed with your handiwork. Doing the same tattoo so many times pays off – each one has looked more polished than the last. It’s almost a shame to see him put his shirt back on…for multiple reasons.

“Oh, uh…” He fishes something out of his pocket. A wad of hard cash – a LOT of it, as usual. “Here’s the payment.” And then he’s leaving, before you can do anything, say anything, even catch the breath you’d lost trying to comprehend everything that just happened.

“Hey, wait!” You don’t really know what you’re going to say, but then he’s facing you again and you have to say something, and it just comes out. “…Do you need help? I don’t know what’s going on, but look, I’m not an idiot. I know something’s wrong here. I don’t know who Mrs. Petrov really is and I don’t care, but if you need me to do something, like…I don’t know, call a social worker or something or help you get transport out of the city...” Your voice falters. You have no idea what he’d need and even less idea how to provide it without getting both of you killed. And what if you’ve misread the whole situation? What if you’re completely out of line?

It certainly looks that way. It’s like a switch flips in him. “No. Whatever you do, don’t fucking try anything. It’s none of your business.” It’s the coldest he’s sounded. “You won’t see me again.” The door slams behind him.

You brace a hand against the counter behind you, shaking. How could you be so stupid, honestly. This emotional roller coaster isn’t worth it. You wish you’d never seen Mrs. Petrov, let alone this Jardani with his damn pain-soaked eyes and cornered-dog behavior. There’s something awful going on, and you can’t do anything about it, you’re just making it worse. If you can get out of this deal, you have to, even if it means getting out of the city. Maybe out west - San Francisco sounds nice this time of year.

You’re just putting yourself back together and trying to decide what the hell you’re gonna do when the door flings open again and he storms back though it, stopping short right in front of you. For a second, you just stare at each other, breathing hard. Then he catches the flash of foolish happiness in your eyes at seeing him again and musters his nerves.

And he. Fucking. Kisses. You. Forcefully, with his strong hands gripping your arms and his teeth colliding with yours, pulling, desperate, rebellious, like he’s trying to tell you something he’s not allowed to say. You’re pretty sure it’s, “Thank you. For being one of the few people who cared.”

And then he’s gone again, and this time, you can feel it: he’s never coming back.

[luvfy0dor]

"We're gonna be timeless !!" ♡⁠˖ BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Chuuya Nakahara, Nikolai Gogol

Warning; Spoilers for mersault arc/Fyodors means of communication in his part, soft!Fyodor bc I am goin thru it, relationship intolerance, Nikolais bit isn't in exact correlation w/ the song

Description; Drabbles inspired by Timeless by Taylor Swift

A/N; Writing this while trying to figure out what to do for another fic help I'm so nervous the person isn't gonna like it but we ball 🫡 in Nikolais part I tried avoiding saying balls like it was the plague but yk

Love Letters w/ Fyodor Dostoevsky

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “I would've read your love letters every single night, and prayed to God you'd be comin' home alright”

• His love letters are romantic and very detailed, making sure he conveys exactly how much he misses you. He likes to write you short poems, understanding how much your heart swoons at the sweet and romantic words.

• Fyodor writes to you while he's in Yokohama, telling you how his plans are going and his estimated time of arrival at home. He continues this habit, even when in Mersault. He sends letters to you via the manipulated vampire guards, instructing them to take great care of the thin envelopes.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Your heart beats quickly as you made your way to your mailbox to check for a letter from your lover; already prepared for the slight sadness you'd experience should the small compartment be void of a note, yet still excited for the possibility of receiving one.

You excitedly open the door to the mailbox, grabbing the numerous envelopes that filled it. Sifting through them, you start to loose hope before your eyes land on the slightly sloppy handwriting of your boyfriend. You drop the various other things on the table, including bills and junk mail in order to pry open the letter excitedly. You make sure to do it carefully though as not to rip anything.

Once you've successfully separated the paper from the envelope, you lay down on the couch on your front while giggling excitedly. You unfold the paper and start to read the comforting and familiar handwriting, feeling as though this letter was a warm and sweet hug from the Russian man.

“My dearest, Y/N,

I know I restate the same thoughts in every letter I send to you, but I truly miss you more than anything in the outside world, including my freedom. I am perfectly fine in captivity, but it truly makes my heart ache to be without my love for so long. I hope you are doing well and holding up without me, not because I doubt your individuality, but I know just how much you miss me. It is the same way for me in this prison. Even with Dazais company, my heart doesn't feel nearly as full as it does when you are around, my dear. However, when our plan succeeds, we will get the happily ever after we deserve. As for our plans, they are going as intended currently.

I cannot wait to embrace you again and to feel the reassuring sensation of your breathing against my skin and feel your arms wrapped around me so tightly and lovingly. Though I would have went about my plans regardless of your support or not, I still appreciate you staying and supporting this, although I can only imagine it has caused you much stress. No worries though, my dear, we will prevail in the end no matter the obstacles. In the meantime, here is an excerpt from a poem I memorized many years ago, I feel it may catch your interest and reassure you a bit.

Wait for me, and I’ll be back,

Disregard the fate,

In the morning with my bag,

Should you only wait.

They will hardly understand,

How I could survive.

Waiting me from foreign land,

You have saved my life.

Let them say that it’s too late.

What you feeling tells?

I’ll be back, because you wait

Like nobody else.

Again, I miss you dearly. Just in case I needed to rephrase it, my heart will not rest until you are back in my presence, for I feel our souls are intertwined. I cannot wait to reunite with with you, my love. I will see you soon.

Sincerely, Fyodor Dostoevsky”

Your heart couldn't help but flutter as you held the letter to your chest, having rolled over onto your back. Your face is warm with blush as you smile and laugh. It was beyond you how Fyodor could remember all of the information he knew, as well as numerous languages and poetry, but you certainly weren't complaining. After all, your boyfriends sweet sayings made your day every time without fail. With every letter he sent, you only became more impatient for his return.

Eloping w/ Chuuya Nakahara

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “And run away and left it all behind, you still would've been mine, we would've been timeless”

• Eloping with Chuuyas is such a fulfilling act, especially when you don't have people whispering in your ear about how dangerous it could be.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Romantic relationships with port mafia executives as an outsider or regular civilian were frowned upon in the organization, meaning if you and Chuuya were going to be together, you needed to be sneaky about it. The port mafia had connections all over the city, which really limited your options for dates, but you were both content with just lounging in each other's homes.

You loved leaning against his chest on his couch, a movie playing softly in the background as you both cuddled together. You liked cooking with him in your kitchen, making a mess together while giggling and then having to clean it up together. Every time you would just sit in his arms in your back yard, watching the wind blow the flowers and leaves around, was a memory with Chuuya that you were grateful for.

So, when your lover proposed the idea of elopement to you, you were over the moon. You had always wanted to marry him, youve know that he was your soulmate from the get go. Even in a billion lifetimes, you felt as though you would find each other repeatedly. You said yes, ofcourse, and started planning immediately.

It had gone exactly according to plan, too. The both of you wore rather nice clothing for the actual ceremony, exchanging pretty rings and slipping them on to one anothers fingers. The kiss you shared, the first one of your elopement, was like no other. It felt sweeter with emotion and certainly tasted that way, too, because of Chuuyas cherry chapstick. You held each other's hands tightly as you quickly walked out of the courthouse, getting into the car that had been packed with as many necessary belongings as possible, including but not limited to clothing, legal documents, and money.

Sure, the luxury of a port mafia salary was one that would probably be missed by the both of you, allowing a nicer place to stay and finer wines to drink, but you could live with Chuuya in a rundown shack for all he cared. As long as he was with you, he would be perfectly happy. Chuuya is a romantic at heart under his tougher exterior, only letting bits and pieces of that romanticism slip through the cracks.

Chuuya drove with you down long and winding roads, the both of you deciding to end the day by stargazing while sitting on the trunk of the car. You sat on Chuuyas lap, his face pressed against your back. He drew soft shapes on any part of skin within his reach, even tracing out letters and words, spelling terms of endearment such as "my love".

"You know, I don't doubt one bit that mafia affiliates could be lurkin' around here, but it's much less likely. Something like this would be frowned upon real hard back home, which is why I feel I will never regret this decision." He says, speaking straight from his heart, not caring about vulnerability anymore. He had you, and you would be the very last person to take advantage of such a delicate thing.

A grin tugs at the corner of your lips with enough force to change your facial expression immediately. You leaned back into his touch, your hand caressing his that sat against your abdomen, hugging you closer to him. "I won't ever regret it either. I'll never regret any decision I make for you, my love." You softly murmur, looking up at the stars in the beautiful, blue night sky. The blue night sky filled with glamorous and shiny stars, yet they could never compare to the shimmery glint in Chuuyas eyes every time he came around you. The blue night sky that provided a calming darkness in the world, allowing you to further relax against your, now husband's, body.

"I'll always love you, darlin', I'm so happy I can openly have you now." He speaks quietly against your shoulder, almost whispering. You reach your hand back to gently touch his hair a bit. "Me too, my love. Me too."

Crowded Streets w/ Nikolai Gogol

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ “In another life, you still would've turned my head, even if we met on a crowded street in 1944”

• Should you meet Nikolai during one of his street performances and accidentally fall victim to his juggling skills (or lack there of) , he would look forward to seeing you around the town and in the streets again to make up for his fumble with an entertaining mini-show.

Scenario !! ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Walking through the busy streets, your eyes fell upon a tall man, dressed as a jester while standing on the sidewalk. "A street performer." You simply thought, trying to discreetly glance at him without making eye contact and avoid the make believe obligation to give him money. You noticed that he was juggling, tossing three red balls in the rotational pattern while blabbering on about random things to passersby.

You lowered your head as to not look at him or make eye contact as you started to pass him, before you're head jerks right back up at the loud man's voice saying "watch out!". Right in front of your face was one of the red, foam spheres, kept motionless between two bony, lanky fingers covered in the cloth of the mans red gloves.

"Aw, I'm real sorry, darlin'! That sure was close, wasn't it?" He says, his bright, toothy grin glimmering in the sunlight. You nod, inhaling and steadying your heart rate.

"Yeah, no worries though, it didn't actually hit me." You say, a bit embarrassed by the situation for seemingly no reason. He slinks backwards into a completely upright position. "I wouldn't have let it hit you regardless, sweet cheeks." He says as he creates a portal and tosses his props into the yellow opening. He rests his fingers on his chin while examining you. "You've got quite a lovely complexion! You must be quite popular when it comes to romantic affairs, I'm sure of it." He compliments. The other people bustling by make you topple a bit as their shoulders bump into yours. Nikolai gently grabs your hand and leads you away from the crowd into a more spacious area.

"You're quite handsome if I do say so myself. Especially that scar." You say, pointing at the healed wound. He smiles. "Well thank you, how sweet is that." He excitedly beams. He removes his hat from his head and slightly bows towards you. "I have yet to formally introduce myself, I am Nikolai Gogol." He says, adjusting his posture yet again to be standing straight up. You smile. "Hello, Nikolai. My name is Y/n." You smile with your arms crossed in front of your chest.

"Well then, Y/n, can I ask you if you enjoy quizzes?" He asks, his head tilted, gravity dragging the long braid along with his movements. You furrow your eyebrows a little. "I'm not too fond of the academic ones, if I'm being honest. Silly ones I don't mind." You say with a small shrug of your shoulders. He laughs.

"Perfect! Let me quiz you then, Y/n." He takes your hands in his excitedly. "Are you aware of the difference between a jester and a clown?" He says, his face about the length of a outstretched palms thumb to pinky tip away from yours. You think for a moment before speaking. "Clowns follow a routine, whereas jesters are more spontaneous and satirical, no?" You say, gazing into his eyes, surprising yourself with your eagerness to hear words of confirmation or denial slip from between his crimson painted lips. He pulls back and claps a bit.

"That's right! Marvelous! How smart you are." He says, removing his hat and placing it on top of your head. "Not many people get that right, you know? Many peoples first answer revolves around a jester being a part of a royal court, but that is simply not their differentiating characteristic." He says, patting your shoulder with a grin. You keep eye contact for a couple of seconds before he erupts into a fit of snickers.

"I'm around this area often during the week. You should come see me, I can promise to give you the very best show I can muster." He grins and with that, he is gone through a portal. He has left you there, a bit flustered as you held onto the hat tightly. You suppressed the excitement in your heart before sneaking out into the crowded pathways once again. Maybe you would take him up on that.

[chuuyasheaven]

“Cockwarminʼ Cuddles”— Atsushi Nakajima

“Working at the agency has the both of you exhausted, mentally and physically. After another stressful day, you and Atsushi wanted to cuddle— nothing more. But during the session, you both realized you were yearning for each other, so you came up with another idea.”

Tags: soft! Atsushi Nakajima / afab! Reader, soft sex, lazy sex, pet names, praising kink, cockwarming, cuddling, ADA! Reader, pw/op, might contain grammar errors, lazy, rushed, SHORT, etc.

Notes: I'M SO SORRY GUYS I GOT SICKKK. I know there's like two fics/drabbles lacking, but I'll be catching up, i swear! First, let me try and finish this week. Also school started again, and since this is my last and important year i might fall behind the schedule.. But let's continue!! XD

Finally, the day was over and you both could relax. Since last week, the agency has picked up a lot of missions, which were stressing the both of you out. Opon coming home, Atsushi only wanted to hold you in his arms, and so did you. But when you actually got to lay down, getting really close to him and all, you could tell that Atsushi wanted more than just cuddle. Realizing that you guys didn't do anything sexual since last week. You really wanted to do something, but at the same time, you didn't, so you guys came up with a small adjustment.

Right now, your head was resting on his chest, while Atsushi's cock rested inside of you, cockwarming him. Even though you really wanted to move, you didn't. This was relaxing to you to just lay there without doing anything. Hell, you literally could've fallen asleep with how chill this was. But Atsushi, he was slightly struggling with this. He wanted to move desperately, but he needed to relax. "Does it. . feel good?", he asked you quietly, you nodded. You moved a little to adjust yourself to your liking, only to feel Atsushi twitch inside you. "S–shit. .", he hissed, this was torturous but also felt good as hell. He was resisting to but even so, he could be cumiming without doing so. Atsushi was trying to hold it in, but you felt him already leaking. Now you had the urge to move your hips to feel him cum.

Suddenly, Atsushi held your waist, moving you himself. This made you moan in surprise as he continued, slowly finding a rhythm. You were really close despite him just getting started. “A–atsushi. .”, you whimpered quietly, Atsushi was just breathing heavily. Soon enough, you reached your climax. You tried to calm down, but Atsushi kept going, holding your leg in his hand and thrusting into your cunt. All this time you guys never switched the position. “Good girl,”, he choked out, feeling his first orgasm get closer, while you were close to your second.

“You feel so good around me, darling. .”, he huffed, you kept on moaning while praise was falling off Atsushi's lips, those same lips which were kissing you right now. Slightly speeding up, your second climax was approaching faster. “I–i'm close,”, you gasped, as Atsushi rocked his hips against yours. “I love you, baby.”, he whispered when he finally came inside of you. “Me too,”, You responded while gushing around his cock for a second time. “I love you so much, Atsu.”, you finished off, calming down from your orgasm.

“—Do you wanna keep going or do you want to keep cuddling?”

this is so cringe and embarrassing, so i will add my taglist later on. Besides, CHUUYA WILL BE HOME SOON !!

[sweetcarrotsandroses97]

~ Bonded by a Ring | JJK

Pairing: CEO!husband!Jungkook x writer!fem!wife!Reader

Warnings: arranged marriage, fluff, a bit of angst. (This is a light chapter tbh, I can't think of anymore triggering content. Let me know if I missed anything!)

Summary: We take a look at your life as Mrs. Jeon, wife of the rich heir to Jeon Enterprises, Jungkook. He was a handsome gentleman who you were able to call your husband yet the relationship between you both was entirely political and civil. Could feelings begin to sparkle between the cracks of marriage?

Word Count: 2.8k

A/N: This was supposed to come out yesterday on Kook's birthday but I was busy and I couldn't edit it but here it is! I'll continue writing this small drabble series when I find the time while also working on other fics I hope to be able to publish soon.

Let me know your thoughts on this one in the comments, please! Drabbles are open for this au in case you want to request something my inbox is open!!💜

It was dark outside. Dusk had settled a while ago and your husband was still not home. You worried for him, for his health. He worked so much and rested too little.

You were sitting on the couch, your laptop rested atop your folded legs. Glancing at the clock you noticed how it was nearly midnight. You sighed. This was not new for you. For Jungkook to always come home late, seldom were those times in which he dined with you.

Rarely did you ever go to bed together as you often found yourself curled in the large mattress without him to keep you warm during the night.

You and Jungkook have been married for some months now. A marriage that was arranged by his parents. A marriage that was of advantage to you both for he needed to have a wife and an heir to inherit his family's company and you, well you needed his name.

As an author who had published her first novel, you became really popular in the world of words and books and you could thank it all to your husband's marketing team.

There was no love between you two. But you didn't hate him either. The relationship between you and Jungkook was a polite one, he was ever the gentleman with you and in exchange he obtained your respect.

You cared for him to a certain extent. You always made sure he never left for work on an empty stomach and had ready some light dinner for when he came home late. You always made sure his shirts were ironed and his shoes polished.

And in return, Jungkook always gave you anything you could possibly need. Do you have an appointment with your editor? He'd make sure his chauffeur would drive you there. Do you need some new clothes? You could always use his credit card. Do you want to get Bam a new toy? He’d made sure to bring you the best catalogues he could find for you to choose what to buy for the spoiled dog who had earned your heart too quickly.

It was a balanced relationship. He respected you, you respected him. Jungkook had his life, you had yours. But to the public, you both were a happily married couple. While inside closed doors, you treated each other as an old acquaintance of another lifetime.

Your attention got stolen by the sound of the electronic lock as the front door opened and in came Jungkook. Even from where you sat, you could see the tiredness in his body. The exhaustion.

You put the laptop aside before standing up and walking towards him. You took his coat from his hands and presented his slippers to him.

If Jungkook hadn't been that tired at that moment he'd have thanked you with a soft smile.

"I'm glad you're home, do you want to eat something? I can heat you up some dinner if you'd like?"

He let out a sigh, the stress, problems and frustration from work were getting on his nerves. And to even think that he had to go back tomorrow...

"No, I'm fine, (y/n). I just want to sleep."

You nodded, placing his coat in the hanger while putting his shoes in its place. The scent of his cologne invaded your senses and your touch lingered on the heavy robe he previously wore for longer than needed.

Your eyes followed his figure as he disappeared in one of the hallways and into the bedroom you both shared. You have never minded sharing a room with him, let alone the bed. The other two rooms in the large flat were transformed in your study while the other was his personal gym.

Walking back into the living room, you saved the draft of the story you had been working on for some time now before you powered off your laptop.

For a moment, your eyes lingered on the city lights. They looked so close yet so far at the same time. The large glass windows that reached from the floor up to the ceiling allowed you to see such a beautiful view.

You felt a sudden sense of loneliness wash over you. Something that felt strange in you, something you couldn't describe, let alone place its source.

With a sigh you turned around, your arms were hugging your figure as you approached the couch once more. You placed the laptop on the coffee table before walking towards the bedroom, turning the lights off on your way.

Jungkook was already lying down on his side of the bed, his back facing you. With quick and silent movements you approached the other side of the bed and sat down before getting yourself under the covers.

You assumed your husband was already asleep as deep breaths could be heard in the quietness of the place. You turned on your right side, facing his back as you shut your tired eyes after having been in front of a screen for too long.

"Goodnight, (y/n)."

Those whispered words reached you before you fell into your deep slumber. You mumbled the words back as you succumbed to the tiredness in your body.

"Goodnight, Jungkook."

Little were you aware of the fluttering in your husband's heart at your words. Of the small smile that graced his lips at the little attentions you always gave him. By the way you were slowly entering his heart without you having the slightest idea.

Jungkook was woken up by his noisy alarm and he cursed under his breath before turning the frustrating noise off. With a sigh he sat up, one of his hands ruffled his hair before he stood up and went to the bathroom as he needed to get ready to go to the company yet again.

After taking a shower and getting dressed, Jungkook stepped out of the bedroom, closing the door behind him with a soft noise that nearly echoed in the overly silent apartment.

"Bam, stop it. You already had breakfast."

He heard your voice from somewhere in his large home as the smell of coffee suddenly hit him. His feet carried him over the hallway and across the living room until he entered the kitchen that faced the dining area.

Jungkook saw how you had prepared a plate filled with fruit and some yoghurt as well as a cup of coffee. He couldn't help the smile that grew on his face, the moment itself was precious as if gotten out of one of the dramas he had caught you watching from time to time when you needed inspiration to write or to simply pass the time.

His stomach fluttered when you lifted your gaze from the large yet cute dog who stole your attention to look at your husband. A smile on your own was painted over your lips.

Time seemed to stop when your eyes met his, Jungkook didn't know for how long the both of you stayed like that. As if trapped in a loop of time of perfection. Almost like a real married couple did.

He broke eye contact and cleared his throat, as if snapping himself from some kind of spell. A spell only you conjure over me. The thought crossed his mind before he could stop it. Your smile disappeared from your face as you looked aside, your cheeks heating.

"Did... did you sleep well?"

You asked after a moment or two of silence. Even Bam stopped moving by your side as if somehow the canine felt the subtle tension rising in the kitchen.

"Yes, thank you."

Then it was awkward again. You didn't know what to say. He wasn't moving, neither were you. He didn't seem to want to lift his gaze as it was placed on the white floor beneath his feet. As if it were the most interesting thing in the world.

"I made you some breakfast. It is not healthy for you to leave on an empty stomach, Jungkook."

He hummed, walking toward the stool before sitting down, his breakfast resting on the marble counter.

"I'm going to take a shower."

You excused yourself and left the kitchen, not allowing your husband to say anything as the next second you were already walking down the hallway.

A sigh left your lips as you leaned on the closed door of your shared bedroom. What just happened? You thought to yourself while pressing the back of your hands up to your cheeks to try and cool down the skin that felt suddenly too hot.

You decided a cold shower would help you clear your mind so you didn't waste another minute to grab your clothes and hop into the shower, allowing the cool water to run down your body and refresh your mind.

Jungkook sat at the stool, spoon in hand as he ate the last of his yoghurt. His cup of coffee was already half empty when you emerged from the bedroom, your hair was wet and you were wearing fresh clothes.

The scent of your shampoo hit him and there it was, the fluttering in his heart, the soft churning of his stomach.

He emptied the bowl with his breakfast and downed the remnants of his coffee before he stood up.

"I have to leave now."

Your hands picked up his bowl and cup as you placed them on the sink.

"Have a nice day, Jungkook."

He didn't know what was happening. Everyday you woke up and prepared some breakfast for him, sometimes he ate it at the flat other times he took it with him to eat it at the office.

Why was he feeling so strange right now when what you were doing was completely normal?

You turned to look at him with a warm smile over your lips, ignoring the way your heart sped up a little by the mere sight of him or the way you felt your palms begin to sweat due to the nerves of being with him in the same room.

He mirrored your smile and you swore you had seen Heaven. You loved his smile. You had always found it pretty. It suited him. Not that you had ever told him that but it was a thought you had had since you first met.

"Don't forget to have breakfast, (y/n). I'll try to come back a bit earlier today."

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the thought of him coming home at a decent hour from work.

"Oh, that's good. Have a nice day, then."

You mentally face-palmed yourself. You already wished him a good day, idiot! But he chuckled, walking away from the kitchen and toward the front door. You watched him like every other day, you watched him put his coat on as well as his shoes.

Jungkook turned around and smiled at you before he was out of the door, the soft click of the lock echoed so loudly in the now nearly empty flat.

You sighed, going back to the kitchen to prepare something to eat for yourself. Just like Jungkook told you. The promise of his early arrival set a smile on your lips once more. Wanting to be with him again, even when he had just left not even five minutes ago.

The reason for this new feeling? You didn't know. But you couldn't say you didn't like it either. Jungkook was your husband after all, it was only natural to want to be close and spend time with the person one marries, right?

"Jungkook, are you listening?"

His head turned to look at the side only to spot Jimin, one of his close friends and co-workers already looking at him with an expectant and curious expression over his delicate features.

"Sorry, what?"

Jimin sighed, a hand running through his blond hair.

"I was saying that we need to close the deal with Mr. Cha as soon as possible. It will help us increase our sales."

Jungkook let out a deep breath as his thumb kept clicking and clicking the pen that was in his grasp.

"I know. I'm sorry, hyung. I have a lot on my mind right now."

Jimin clicked his tongue as he put some files aside.

"Yeah, I figured. I'll ask Hoseok to look into this and bring you the contract for you to sign."

"Thanks, Jimin-ssi."

The latter smiled, more than smirked and said, his hands tangling in front of him over the table.

"Now tell me, what is bothering you?"

Jungkook knew his friend was going to ask that question sooner or later. He leaned back on his chair and said, fidgeting with the pen in between his fingers.

"It's (y/n)."

If Jungkook had been looking at his friend, he'd have seen how Jimin's eyes widened at the mention of your name. He had met you on a couple of occasions, one of them being your wedding with his younger friend, that's why he grew surprised when you were the centre of Jungkook's current state of mind.

"What happened? Did you two fight or something?"

The doe-eyed man shook his head, placing his pen on the table before his eyes locked with the curious gaze of one of his closest friends.

"What? No, I don't think I could ever fight with her."

Jimin hummed, allowing him to continue.

"It's just that... man I don't know. I can't sleep, I can barely eat. My mind is always racing with the mere idea of her. This morning I saw her smile and... I just thought of how beautiful she looked while smiling. I want to make her smile like that, you know? I want her to be happy and to smile at me like that everyday, Jimin."

There was a moment of silence between the two men. Seconds tickled by, the silence stretched. Nearly swallowing the younger man with his own thoughts and racing heart.

"What? Don't you have something to say, Jimin-ah? You are always teasing me and when I tell you something serious you stay quiet."

The blond haired man seemed to snap out of his own mind. The only thought in his head was the one of Finally!

"You like her."

Stated Jimin. There existed no ounce of hesitation in those three words.

"What?!"

Jimin rolled his eyes, if anyone had seen the scene they would have thought it to be comical.

"Shhh, don't shout like that. I simply said that you like her. You like (y/n), Kook."

Jungkook swallowed. The possibility hadn't even crossed his mind. Did he- did he truly have feelings for you?

"But how?"

Jimin refrained himself from smacking Jungkook on the back of his head. Perhaps they were both speaking as friends right now but the blond man had to remind himself that Jungkook was technically his boss too. At least his future boss.

"Jungkook, it's completely normal. She is your wife, she's been living with you for months now. It actually surprises me that this hadn't happened before considering your one year anniversary is in two weeks."

The heir to Jeon Enterprises was too stunned to speak. Jimin had revealed a reality his heart already knew but his mind rejected to accept for he couldn't deny his friend's statement. He liked you, he really did. And now, he saw his situation with way more clarity than before.

"What do I do now, Jimin? Should I tell her how I feel?"

The older man laughed a bit. His eyes closed with the motion.

"See? You didn't deny it! You really like her, huh?"

Jungkook rolled his eyes, not liking the teasing from his friend.

"You didn't answer my question."

"Aish, you are totally clueless when it comes to romance, aren't you? Listen, Kook, first you have to know if she likes you back. Don't just open your heart where there could be a field of thorns, gift her things and see her reaction, do things for her and pay attention to her words, if she gets flustered or not. And if she doesn't show any signs, well then you have to win her heart."

Jungkook still had so many questions, so many things he wanted to know in order to act on the feelings his heart was treasuring. You were his wife, wasn't a marriage supposed to be sweet?

What he had with you wasn't bitter, but he found himself craving as of lately that sweet love of the heart.

He wished to be with you like a husband loves his wife, not only bounded by a ring but by sentiment too. To be tangled in the web of feelings that threatened to blossom in his heart with every thought of you, every single memory of you.

And he was going to do just that. To fight for your love. To win your heart or claim it if his name was already written in your soul for him to live in such a sacred place.

Bonded by rings, destined by fate. Claimed by society, yearning for a life by your side.

~Masterpost

Sept/02/2023

☕Caffeinate me so I can keep on writing! ☕

[divinehedons]

you write THE BEST dark fics like oh golly you execute it with such poise and charm 🫵 i saw you're looking for drabble ideas so i've been wondering.. what are your thoughts on jealous joel miller?! just him being disgustingly jealous that it's consuming him. oh that paired with the miscommunication trope.. i'm salivating..

side note: this emerged as i was mulling over bacon and eggs in my sleepy, migraine-y brain :'D

ann, you're an actual angel and i love you wtf! thank you for bringing pstar!joel into our lives, and i hope you enjoy! nsfw and dark themes (stalking(??), possessiveness) under the cut!

joel miller and the five stages of envy

i think it's very rarely that joel miller feels envy. he's an adult, for god's sake, and he knows you better than you know yourself. so when that insatiable head of envy turns to him, it's something that he does not take lightly.

it always begins with the seedling of doubt. when you don't kiss him the moment you see him. when he has to call your name for a moment or two before you finally look to him with all your attention. he'll try to reason with himself. maybe you were just tired. maybe you were just stressed. he'll take you to his arms and kiss your temple sweetly, as if his lips could take away whatever was distracting you from him.

however, his envy would only persist with confirmation. one scapegoat to explain everything, no matter how false. one time it had been your childhood friend. another time, it was your boss. whoever or whatever it was, he becomes hyperaware of the inconsistency. he'd ask you in bed, moments before you fall asleep. "any plans, doll?" you'd mumble something, seeing christopher tomorrow, or something else so innocent. it'll haunt him. images of you in someone else's arms, fucked open by fingers that were not his own. he'd lean down and kiss the crook of your neck. "don't have too much fun, darlin'."

in the morning, he'll try to rationalize it. you're a grown person, he trusts you. of course you can have friends of your own. it's not enough. it was never enough. when you kiss his cheek and run out the door, he takes a deep breath, counts to a thousand, before opening his eyes. of course he has to do something

then, there was escalation. suddenly it was him sitting three tables away, your back to him, watching the way this "friend" smiles and laughs with you. he doesn't find it twisted, doesn't find it troubling. you were just so precious, of course you needed someone to keep an eye on you. and of course he was the one to do it. you're all his. he's not going to let some sleezy boy get all over you that easily.

so, then, conclusion is inevitable. he reacts. he shoots up from the table, trying to ignore the pounding of the vein on his temple as he approaches your table, wrapping an arm so easily around your shoulder. he makes a quick, flimsy excuse to pull you out of your chair and into the nearest restroom, forehead creasing as you try and derive answers from him.

"what the fuck, joel? i was having a good time-"

"is that what'cha call it, doll? whorin' around some guy like you're not mine?" he growls, large hand pinning you by your neck to the nearest wall. you stammer, try to explain, try to free yourself. "guess i don't remind you enough that i own you, sweet girl."

"it wasn't like that. he was just-"

your words fall short when you feel his fingers up your skirt, pushing your panties aside to fuck two into you, making your breath hitch and your eyes glaze over. true pavlovian response. as if the feel of his fingertips, and only his fingertips, was enough to silence your protestations.

it was easier this way, anyway: reminding you of just who you belonged to when you're crying for his cock while he smirks down at you. you always come back for him, anyway.

"that's it, doll. have i made myself perfectly clear to ya?"

[racinggirl]

butterfly || Daniel Ricciardo 3

part of the 700 celebration drabbles!

words: 1.1k I'm honestly the worst at staying below 1k words, sorry not sorry. I hope you enjoy! let me know what you think please, I LOVE comments, your opinions, anything. It makes my heart happy :) You can also leave opinions about the drabble in my askbox anonymously :) also, this is a repost because tumblr didn’t want to share this fic with you :(

(as a part of my 700 followers celebration, I'm taking requests for drabbles, check this post for more information)

3 years. 3 years you and your boyfriend have been able to keep your relationship hidden, away from the fans, social media, press. Those years of having a secret relationship weren’t the easiest, and things all changed the moment that secret relationship wasn’t so secret anymore.

 

You and Daniel were the perfect couple, going on sneaky dates at each other’s houses. You’d prepare a meal at your place, put a matrass on the ground, a blanket on top of it to prevent stains on the matrass. The moment he’d walk into your house in Monaco – the place you both lived – you were hiding with a water gun, leaving the second one near the front door with a note attached to it.

‘The first one to get SOAKED must do the dishes’

 

That was you and him, funny, happy, but in secret. You hated the media, not only because they were around you all the time, but also because of the fake news they would spread. Anything to get that million-dollar headline.

 

You were a singer, not lady gaga famous yet, but you were getting there. Small steps, slowly building your fanbase. Another reason you absolutely tried everything to prevent the media from finding out you and Daniel were madly in love with one another. You wanted to do it on your own. You wanted to become famous, sing like an angel, and have people love you because you were you, and not because you were Daniel’s girlfriend.

 

And boy, he adored that so much about you. Your strength, your power, and your determination to keep going, get higher up, be the best you could be. Independent, yet you couldn’t be away from each other.

 

However, the moment those pictures leaked, you noticed your fanbase growing. Most people would love it because this meant being successful was one step closer. It was withing hand reach. Most people, but not you.

 

Talks with your manager, talks with his manager, and most importantly, talks with each other. You were stressing so much, scared because you didn’t want to go in the books as ‘girlfriend of’. You were scared people would like you because you were dating Daniel, and not because they actually enjoyed your music.

 

‘’Baby.’’ Daniel reached for your hands, giving them a gentle squeeze as you looked up into his eyes, his bright shiny eyes that would clear up the thunder in your head instantly.

 

‘’What if they don’t like me, what if they think I’m not good enough for you and nobody will listen to my songs?’’ You were rambling, it was something you always did whenever you were nervous or scared, and right now, you were both.

 

‘’What if they do like me, but only because I’m your girlfriend, because liking me means liking you, and they don’t actually like me, but they like you. And what if when I need to perform somewhere, nobody wants to come?’’ You ask, worry shooting out of your eyes as you looked up at your boyfriend.

‘’What if people want to break us apart? Or worse, hate us together? I don’t want people to hate us, I love us, do you love us? You love me, right?’’ Your worried frown was something that broke the Australian’s heart. He saw you were stressed, worried, which made him care about you even more than he could possibly do.

 

‘’I love you, to pieces, so much, my angel.’’ He whispered, his hands on either side of your face, forcing you to look him in the eyes, those shiny, perfect eyes.

‘’I couldn’t possibly love anyone more than I love you. And please, please know that whatever happened right now, won’t change anything okay? There might be people that hate, they are always there, it’s inevitable. But my star, you, are worth so much more than any hate comment there is on this world, okay? We will get through this. I will come to your shows, just like you came to my races, even if it meant arriving separately and sneaking around in the McLaren motorhome.’’ He said, and he meant every single word of it.

 

‘’You know what I always say, right?’’ He smiles, rubbing your cold cheeks with his warm hands, creating tingles in your stomach.

 

You hummed, nodding in response as your eyes closed slowly. He knew you, even better than he knew the Melbourne circuit. He knew exactly what to say and how to calm you, and you couldn’t thank him more for that.

 

Months later you were stepping into the Abu Dhabi paddock, your hand intertwined with Daniel’s, his warm hand being a perfect fit for yours. A lot of things had changed, you had grown, both as a singer but even more so as an individual and a couple. You were out and public, for everyone to see, and you owned it.

 

You couldn’t thank that moment enough, because due to that moment, you and Daniel had become even closer than ever, taking the opportunity to do things together, even more so. Starting your own podcast, you dedicating your songs to him and him dedicating his successes to you. It felt like a fairy tale, and it was even better than Snow white or Cinderella.

 

‘’y/n! Daniel! So wonderful to see you both here.’’ One of the interviewers noticed your appearance and didn’t hesitate twice to come up to you.

 

‘’Tell us, how are things, we heard you’ve been working on a new album?’’ That question was directed towards you, and Daniel’s smile grew even wider when you started answering the question.

 

‘’That sounds amazing, do you have a name for the album? Are there songs dedicated to Daniel?’’ The questions you once feared – because the questions weren’t just about you but included Daniel in it as well – were now reality, and you weren’t scared of them anymore. Because you didn’t see it as you versus him, or you versus the world. No, you saw it as you and him versus anything that was going to be put on your path, good or bad. You’d do it together.

 

‘’There are some songs in there that represent our relationship, yes.’’ You smiled, giving your boyfriends hand a gentle squeeze. ‘’And the name, it’s called ‘butterfly’.’’

 

‘’That’s a beautiful name, is it based on anything?’’

 

You smiled at the interviewer, your gaze moving upwards to meet Daniel’s eyes. ‘’Yeah, it is.’’ You smiled. ‘’Because you know… always…’’

 

‘’Enjoy the butterflies.’’ Daniel finished your sentence, pressing a gentle kiss on your temple as his arm wrapped around you. Yeah, you and him against the world, forever.

[yrrtyrrtwhenihrrthrrt]

Hello could you do more fics about ballister head injury?(love your worke❤️)

THIS RESPAWNED IN MY DRAFTS HOLY SHIT

I'm so glad you love my work thank you so much for this ask 🩷 sorry it took so long but as I had said in another post, my Tumblr ate it for breakfast and it was disappeared from my askbox and drafts. But it reappeared!!! Please enjoy your very late drabble request <3

Cw: seizures, brain injury

Ballister leaned against Ambrosius, closing his eyes. “You sleepy, Bal?”

“Mhm.” Ballister rubbed his eyes. “I couldn't get to sleep last night. Kept having headaches and weird dreams.”

“That's no good, babe. Try to take it easy today. Do you think it's your head?”

“He just said it was his head, duh.” Nimona cut in. She'd been back for the past couple months, and she and Ambrosius were still getting used to each other. Ballister chuckled. “It's probably fine.” Ambrosius made a worried face.

Eight months ago, when Ballister was on the run, he'd suffered considerable head trauma, several times, one after another after another. The whole thing left Ballister with considerable brain damage in the frontal and temporal lobes especially. It was especially significant in the first few weeks after everything happened, when he was often unsteady on his feet, spoke with slurred speech, struggled with short term memory, understanding rapid or unclear speech, and extreme emotional outbursts where he would be extremely afraid, sad, angry, or happy without apparent cause. He'd also started having seizures at that time. Ambrosius learned to deal with them, but he always hoped each one would be Ballister's last. The doctor said they'd stop eventually, but they never knew when eventually would come.

Thankfully, since then, his brain had healed tremendously. Still, Ambrosius couldn't help but worry when Ballister had anything going on with his head.

“Alright, well, just be careful, okay? Don't strain yourself.” He kissed Ballister's cheek.

Nimona cackled. “Come on, Nemesis. I don't think the boss is gonna let some dumb headache slow him down! He's not made of glass, you know. He's ten percent solid steel and a hundred percent badass!”

“My arm makes up five percent of my weight, Nimona, also it's made of titanium.” Ballister smiled at her.

“See? Even cooler.” She returned to what she was doing and Ambrosius sighed. Maybe he was being a little overly anxious.

But as the day went on, Ballister seemed off. Foggy, distracted, a little bit uncharacteristically emotional or snippy sometimes. Even Nimona noticed, Ambrosius could see the puzzlement in her face even if she said nothing. It all came to a head later that day, they were at a park and they were noticed by members of the public, who started their usual barrage, asking frankly triggering questions and requesting photographs and signatures.

Ambrosius was used to all that, but while Ballister was somewhat accustomed to it, it always stressed him out. Ambrosius managed to fish his lover and Nimona away from the paparazzi and back to the safety of their vehicle.

“You guys alright?” Ambrosius started it up, flying through the airways. Ballister didn't answer, he glanced over. “Bal?”

His lover looked distant, blinking fast, looking around in a haze. “Do you, lemon?”

“What?” Oh shit. “Nimona, take his arm off!” Ambrosius began landing the vehicle in a safe place.

“What?” She looked quizzically from the backseat.

“Now! He's having a seizure, the prosthetic is wired to his nerves and muscle, the electrical signals can make it go nuts!”

Ballister knew a seizure was coming when he tasted lemon out of nowhere. They needed to get it together quickly, he was already having trouble speaking.

Quickly Nimona reached forward and disconnected the arm, and not a moment too soon. Ballister’s face twisted and his head began to jerk, along with his right leg, a rhythmic back and forth motion. Once Ambrosius was safely parked, he grabbed the blanket from the back seat and cushioned Ballister's head, and started a timer on his phone. A car was not the ideal place for this to happen, he wasn't completely sure of the protocol. Ballister was at least buckled, so he couldn't collapse into the dashboard. “It's okay, Bal.” He whispered softly. Everything will be okay.”

Nimona's eyes were wide with terror. After sixty-two seconds, Ballister went still, his eyes blearily gazing in front of him, foggy. Ambrosius stroked his hair. “It's over, love. It's over. You're okay.”

Nimona swallowed. “What happened to him?”

Ambrosius exited the vehicle and came around to open Ballister's door so he could more closely check up on him. He unbuckled him and helped him out of the car, supporting most of his weight. “Nimona, let me lay him in the back, he needs to lay on his side.”

Nimona moved out of the way. “What happened to him?”

Once Ballister was laid safely in a recovery position, Ambrosius sat beside the car and stroked his hair. “He had a seizure.”

“A seizure? I thought you had to be born with those. I've never seen him do this before.”

“He hit his head, a lot, after–” Ambrosius swallowed. “After what I did to him. It all added up, and left enough damage that this happens sometimes. Eventually it's supposed to go away, but we have no idea when. He's okay, he just won't be able to talk for a few minutes. Will you sit back here with him? Just make sure he's breathing okay, and try to comfort him while I drive home. Sometimes he gets a little emotional. You can give his arm back, too.” He swallowed. He wanted to comfort Ballister, but he needed to get them home safely. Ballister could recover better at home.

Nimona didn't seem to know what to do, but for once, she didn't argue. Ambrosius drove home hearing her speak softer than he ever had, in a reassuring voice.

When they got home, they managed to assist Ballister inside. He could now understand speech and get out a word here and there, but he was mostly disoriented and exhausted. Once Ambrosius checked that his breathing was normal, and he didn't have any severe bites in his mouth, he tucked him into their bed and let him rest, setting a timer to wake him up and check on him.

Nimona looked gaunt, she paced the living room.

“Aren't you a thousand years old? I thought you'd be used to things like seizures. This wasn't a bad one, thankfully. He's okay, you don't have to worry.” Ambrosius was a hypocrite. He was extremely worried.

She shook her head. “Not that, I mean, I've seen them before, they're normal, I've known thousands of people– but I didn't realize— I didn't realize someone could hurt their head so easily.” She whispered.

“What do you mean?”

She swallowed. “He got hit in the face with a rock when the Institute blew up. And I dragged him home. And I didn't even try to make sure he didn't hit his head! He was getting smacked into curbs left and right and– and I thought it was funny!” She rubbed her face. “I haven't been close with a human in so long, I forgot how fragile they were, how even something like that– it's partially my fault, don't you get it? I was careless and he hit his head and now he's suffering because of me.”

Ambrosius swallowed. Ballister told him about how Nimona said he'd hit his head on the curb when she took him home, and yes, it had contributed to several in a series of head injuries. He sat on the couch. “Nimona, it's not your fault. I knew about that. The doctor said the concussions hadn't helped, but most of the damage was from the debris, from Todd beating him up, and from when he fell through the stadium floor. It's just– how it is.”

Nimona sat on the couch beside him and sniffed. “You don't understand. I forgot how easily humans can be hurt. How easily they can die.”

“Oh…” Ambrosius looked down. “Well, for what it's worth, I don't think he'd be here at all if it wasn't for you. Humans are weak, but Ballister is strong. He's kind, resilient, and forgiving– I know that better than anyone. He's gonna be fine. Don't beat yourself up.”

Nimona sniffed and smiled at him. “Thanks, nemesis.”

[box-architecture]

CKAU: Part One of ???

I often find myself struggling to write the first chapter of the Communication Knife AU.

When I first started writing awesamdream, it was me spitballing ideas in the dreblr minecraft server when it first opened, and trying to have fun with a ship that, at the time, wasn't considered A Big Thing, or was purely for whump purposes. And while writing for an AU, Sif was also there, poking and tormenting lovingly as a Sif does, and mentioned the concept of Auspisticism, a homestuck relationship, in regards to Dream, Sam, and Punz. And then one thing led to another, and now I have this big thing that makes me happy and had grown a lot bigger than I expected it to, and there's so many little drabbles and snippets and smut pieces that came out of it, that by the time new people started asking what the hell I was talking about, I realized that the context wasn't properly put together and hard to explain.

So I tried to put together a whole fic for it! And it hasn't been going well.

Because I really want to do the fic justice. I want to make it sound really lovely and use all the right words and explain very well all the things that made me insane so you can understand just the way it went when all this started! But in trying to do that, it's become so hard to write. I feel stuck, the words won't come, I overthink and overedit, and nothing is good enough.

But I still really, really do want to explain the AU so you can understand. And i know it won't be the perfect, well designed thing I built in my head, with all the write prose and all the little extra fancy things, but I'd rather you have it imperfectly than not at all.

Here you go, part one of ???:

(Sam: he/him

Dream: he/him

Punz: they/he

just to make sure.)

When things get bad for Dream in prison, he offers Sam sexual favors in return for better treatment, food/blankets/etc., and Sam agrees to this, regardless of the terrible ethics involved. Its not a great situation, for like, Obvious Reasons, and the consent is very much dubious here. Sam's possessive behavior is at its peak, and even if there ends up being less torture as part of the deal, it doesn't change that things are still fucked up.

When Dream escapes prison and finds Sam during Daedalus Arc, after scarring Sam, Dream offers to meet up to have sex again next week, out of a need to feel in control, to prove how he was Totally Not Traumatized he was and how he was absolutely fully capable of consenting to it, and the two continue their sexual activities.

However, Punz, who has been in a comfortably open relationship with Dream since before prison, bristles at the idea of Sam taking advantage of Dream, of the severe power imbalance still being a problem, and comes with him to these sexual encounters to protect him and keep Sam from pushing Dream's boundaries. They set up some rules, and if Sam breaks any or steps out of line, Punz will stab him with a special, gaudy blue knife that has 'Communication' engraved in its handle.

--

"He tortured you!"

"Technically it was Quackity who did the torturing." Dream corrected him, meticulously sorting his inventory. Their base felt suffocating, tiny, and he wanted to be done and gone already, but Punz seemed ready to fight him the whole way.

"Don't give me that shit," Punz snapped. "Sam let him in, he starved you half to death, for God's sake, Dream, he r-"

"It was not." At breakneck speed, Dream turned on his heel and hissed. "I said yes. Don't you dare say I didn't."

"You weren't in a position to say no." Punz said fiercely. Something dark and angry crushed their heart in its fist. "You didn't have any choice-"

"I had a choice!"

The world seemed to stop moving, the air stale. Dreams breaths were shaky, heaving, and Punz realized with a lump in their throat that Dream was trembling from stress.

"I had a choice." Dream repeated. "And it was mine. Not his, not anyone's. I'm going to see him again, and that's my choice too. Not yours."

They could stop him, a little voice in the back of their head murmured. They could stop him and- and keep him safe. Prevent anyone else from hurting him again. They could say the right words that would cause him to falter ("for me." Punz had once pleaded, and Dream bent, as he always did) and then Sam would never touch him. They could even kill the creeper hybrid, to be sure. They would destroy the entire server with the Plan, and Dream would finally be safe.

But.

Dream needed this. Whatever he said, whatever he thought, he'd been denied agency for so long. The thought of them being the one to take it away, his friend, when they were supposed to be the one person on the server who he could trust… it made them feel sick.

Dreams trembling faded, and he straightened up, before he throwing his cloak over his shoulder.

Punz made his decision. "I'm coming with you."

"What?"

"I'm your backup, and your mercenary, and your partner. If Sam has a problem with it, just say you rehired me."

--

At the very beginning, the rules are this:

No Kissing. Punz doesn't think Sam deserves kisses, and they're vicious about enforcing this. Kisses are for Punz alone, and Sam is incredibly jealous.

No marks. Sam has tried to leave hickies or bruises, but it was quickly shut down. When he argued this, Punz told him that he could leave marks when all the marks (torture scars) he already made on Dream were gone.

No cuddling or aftercare. Since Sam insisted that the sex didn't mean anything, clearly that means he doesn't need to be involved in taking care of Dream after. Punz will take him away and they can be the one to hold Dream. (Not that Sam longed for that. He doesn't feel more desperate each time the two leave him behind. Of course not.)

The most obvious one: what Dream says goes. Sam isn't allowed to Override Dream and insist his way is better, and he isn't allowed to take whatever he wants without asking. If Dream needs a moment, or would like to change positions, or even just say he'd rather not, Sam must listen. Punz will make him listen.

And so every week all three of them get together, usually at the prison, and have sex. Its a very complicated, unhealthy dynamic, for a lot of different reasons.

Punz, usually able to gauge what Dream wants/what would make him comfortable, is left blind, because Dream is always a little uncomfortable here, always stressed, and Punz can't fix that. They're trying their best, and they know that Dream could shut down and be unable to express himself if the wrong button is pushed, but in the beginning its a mess. At some point he micromanages where Sam puts his hands, pushing and arguing with him over whose allowed to say where Sam can and can't touch, and neither of the two argue that it should be Dream.

It doesn't help that Punz is jealous. They don't want to be, especially not in this situation. But Sam's possessiveness of Dream, the way he taunts about knowing Dream in ways nobody else possibly could- it sets off that part of Punz that has always been so self-satisfied with his place as Dream's most intimate companion, the other half of his soul.

(Its the server's second stupidest dick measuring contest where they accidentally objectify Dream in the process, while they also compete to see who Dream likes more.)

Sam, on the other hand, is constantly having to reckon with the fact that he wasn't actually as good as he thought he was. Punz doesn't let him get away with spewing the same lines of crap and insisting he's always right. Sam also considered himself A Good Lover and good at getting Dream off (the only one who knows him, who knows him Best), and his ego takes a fucking hit when Punz corrects him. When Punz points out that certain things were actually harmful/not enjoyable, its hard for Sam to accept because it means he fucked up and made assumptions in his head and Punz rubs each of those in.

Sam tries to defend himself by pointing out that Dream went along with it, and which leads to Punz pointing out that he didn't have much of a choice/wasn't in a good situation to make that choice at the time, and that's the one time it nearly comes to blows between them before Dream speaks up to tell them both to knock it off.

(Sam discovers One (1) kink that Punz doesn't know about and he's so fucking smug about it despite fucking up literally everything else.)

(No matter how many wins Sam thinks he gets during their weekly time together, Punz still gets to take Dream home, do aftercare and keep him safe. Sam hates how much he wants that too, despite the fact that according to his own weird moral code he shouldn't.)

And as much as this is most definitely causing more issues, it does leave Dream actually feeling more in control of his situation.

He gets so much praise now! This is basically therapy but better! He even gets aftercare with no torture. He's getting good dick and most of his kinks are getting hit, truly luxurious for a cDream. He's a lot more confident and content, and he isn't constantly on the defensive, because if Punz says he didn't deserve what happened to him, even if its just a single person, Dream doesn't have to fight to prove that he's a person deserving of basic human decency.

But the Most Important Thing That Makes All This Take The Turn It Does: At first, Sam thinks that the proper solution to all of this is to get Dream all to himself again in his prison where he belongs and not fixing his behavior any more than what he needs specifically to get there.

However, during an very short period of time where Sam is able to be with Dream without Punz there to scrutinize, Sam attempts to do stuff like how he used to before Punz, to prove he doesn't need him, that they don't need him.

But now he knows, he knows that Dream isn't actually into a lot of the things he was trying, or at the very least he likes other things more. He had it proved to him, and he's aware that things can be a lot better. Dream's clearly nervous, anxious, and not super into this, and Sam can tell, and now all he can see are all those little signs that he's fucking up, and it's getting into his head.

In the end, he can't even get himself to go through with it, because now it feels wrong and he can't ignore that. He makes an excuse, and he's frustrated and aggressive, but he doesn't try this again without Punz there.

Mentally he can justify it as Punz would kill him if he did. This is just a matter of self-preservation.

But quietly his plans adjust to not just needing to get Dream under his control. He'll need to get Punz too in order for things to be perfect.

[wooahaes]

hii this is maybe a little random but i'm having a bit of a rough night and it got me wondering if you have any favorite comfort fics among the ones you have written (or read, for that matter, i'm just a sucker for your writing)

hi anon im really sorry this is late and i hope your night got a little bit better :( but i'll still throw some recs out!!

very very long, but [under the sun] itself always gives me comfort? something about the world just feels very cozy and i've heard from other people they consider it a comfort fic. i don't think you Have to read the initial parts to understand the individual parts (it gives world-building + reader gets dubbed 'mouse' there as a nickname that pops up throughout individual fics), but i personally think seokmin, jun and joshua have some of the more softer parts personally? jun's does have to deal with reader getting injured, so heads up for that.

i wrote the hyung line [comforting reader when they're upset] earlier this year. its very short and sweet, but it fits what you're looking for.

most recently, i had a maknae line fic [to be together (even when it's hard)] since i was going through a bad bout of depression and wanted the comfort.

there's also a full group drabbles post of comforting them which is kinda in the same vein, but its just a lot of [holding them].

this ones admittedly not very inclusive but on the off chance its what ur dealing with, i wrote a vernon fic while i was dealing with some accidental biphobia from a friend. everythings all good now, but i needed the comfort, so i expanded on a nonranghaes drabble i wrote and made it into [of your choosing].

[taste of love] isnt explicitly a comfort fic but its very comforting imo? its longer, but its a sweet jun fic that focuses on the connection that food can bring to people <3

[to heal together] is a jeonghan fic where its kinda mutual comfort

[to weather together] is another short fic for jun that involves comfort and cuddling and him supporting reader as they cry :0

[call on me] is a dino fic where he comforts fem!reader after her family forgets about the promise they made her

[i need an angel's hand] is a more personal comfort fic where cheol comforts fem!reader while she's dealing w fears of abandonment n so forth. its personal, but its out there for anyone who relates and needs it

for nonranthaes stuff: personal but cheol being there for reader when they decide to drop out of grad school

wonwoo comforting reader who is a victim of sexual assault

joshua holding reader as they cry

married fic of reader comforting cheol over weight gain that he's a little self conscious of

personal but vernon comforting reader who has an abusive parent

vernon fic where readers happy to have a loving relationship after having shitty ones in the past

jihoon listening to reader vent and being there for them

jun comforting reader after he finds them upset

lovey dovey soonyoung being patient and kind

in the same vein as the svt maknae line fic, there's a short 3racha fic [a little less daunting] that's also comfort.

there's a poly minsung fic [reassurance] that deals with reader getting comforted while they're dealing with some stress from work that impacts them in other places in their life.

this has a fem!reader since its from my bday fics this year, but [i'm just lonely, someone reach out and hold me] is a jisung fic where reader gets comforted after other ppl forgot her bday.

i feel like i have way more comfort on nonranghaes so:

platonic chris fic where he holds reader and comforts them

platonic chris fic where reader feels like they're 'behind' on life things

short felix fic where he's ready to comfort reader

lee know comforting reader during an anxiety attack

jisung comforting reader after someone accidentally made a comment that really hurt them at a party

lee know comforting reader while they have a bad headache

unfortunately i dont really have anything for trsr/golcha or mark lee (i havent written anything else for nct yet unfortunately skdfhsf so its just. mark.)

fic recs!!! for stuff from the same author i'll @ them once and do a little ^^ to mean its from the same writer <3

@jinkoh reader drops an egg and vernon comforts them. very cute, can confirm <3

^^ ex-boyfie wonwoo helping reader who is going through panic attack bc mans would come running i just KNOW it. very soft and sweet <3

@hoshologies's woozi fic w reader dealing with mental health problems and jihoon helping/comforting them. very very tender <3

my beloved livvie @husbandhannie's jeonghan fic where reader is in a toxic work environment

my beloved savv @savventeen's cheol drabble about reader feeling safe w cheol

i truly need to read a lot more tbf but all of these come from my recs tag!! most of what i read is pure fluff imo but these are the more comforty ones <3

i hope this helps!! sorry again for getting to this late anon :( <3 my sleep schedule is thrown out of wack bc of thanksgiving unfortunately...

[strwberri-milk]

hello! may i request valentine's day with kaeya? 💕💕

bc i dont wanna post this too late im posting it pretty quickly!! i was gonna do more of a fic but ive got a lot of work to do so!! just doing this hc/drabble format helps me mitigate the time it normally would - it's also going to be posted at not my normal time for the same reason !!! this is actually pretty long but!! it is only lightly proofread and will be read over properly later!! there is a Valentines Day Crisis i am going to go resolve but!! i hope yall have a good day <3

Valentine's day is...a little stressful for Kaeya. He's not too sure what he wants to do for you, sure that even if he were to take the planets out of the solar system it still wouldn't be enough to prove to you just how much he loves you. Buying gifts is also hard since he buys you so many little trinkets whenever he spots something that reminds him of you.

Ultimately, he decides to put himself out of his comfort zone, inviting you over for a homecooked meal, complete with a few courses and a handmade dessert. It took him forever to learn how to make it, cramming in cooking lessons between his patrols and spending time with you but it's all worth it to see you smile.

The preparations for this special holiday began well before, Kaeya making sure that not a single thing was out of place. Everything was going to be the epitome of perfection, having everything prepared down to the placement of cutlery on the table.

It wasn't within his nature to be so precisewhen it came to doing anything with you, loving the look on your face as he acted spontaneously, but this was something he did not want to risk.

Kaeya takes a deep breath when he hears your knock on the door, running through his mental checklist one more time before finally letting you into his home. The smile you wear is so bright he doesn't think he needs the lights of the candles to brighten up the room. No, just your presence was enough.

"How are you?" you greet, pulling him in for a kiss that he happily returns.

"I'm doing alright," he replies, clearing his throat to try and eliminate the last minute nerves.

"Much better now that you're here."

"Oh, as if I haven't heard that one before," you roll your eyes, following after him as he leads you to his dining room.

Already, you can see the beginnigs of a lavish meal being put doiwn, about to sit when he interrupts your motions and pulls out the chair for you. You chuckle a little, entertained by this extra chivalrous knight persona he was wearing today.

"How kind of you sir," you joke, making him laugh softly in kind.

"Well, only thebest for the love of my life, don't you think?" he says softly, making your heart flutter a little.

"It is Valentine's after all, and just asking you in a grandiose way wasn't enough for me."

You think back to how he asked you, remembering the giant bouquet he insisted on buying and the lovely little poem he wrote and attached to the flowers.

As you ponder, you feel him press a kiss to your cheek, looking up at him adoringly.

"Have I told you I love you?" you say dreamily, making his hear melt.

"Yes, you have," he replies, sitting you down and helping serve your meal.

You didn't know what else to expect after dinner. The two of you were a little tired from your daily routine anyway, finding the time today to spend together to be enough for you. Maybe another day you can make a grand spectacle of it but not right now.

Instead, you focus your attention on returning his lavish attention and flirting with him, loving the way he averts his gaze when your sweetened words are too much for him to handle. However, he retaliates by upping the ante, both of you caught in some battle of affection. That comes to an end.

"Dessert is served," Kaeya says proudly, brandishing a plate of chocolates he made himself. Your eyes go wide, the intricate looking snowflakes decorated prettily on the plate making you gasp.

"Kaeya! This looks incredible. You made these?"

"All by myself," he huffs, taking one off and bringing it to your lips.

"Here, give it a taste."

You take a bite, happily chewing when you reach a creamy center. He can't look any happier you think, practically vibrating as he watches your reaction.

"Well? What do you think? Good?"

"It's amazing! I can't believe you did all this!"

"Anything for my beloved," he replies, taking a piece for himself.

You suddenly remember that your chocolates are definitely not up to par, simply a package you bought. That's not to say they weren't nice - they just paled in comparison severely when it came to your boyfriend's efforts.

"Well? What about mine?"

He pulls you into his chest by your waist, looking at you expectantly.

"You were carrying a bag when you came in here and I can only assume it's filled with sweets for me."

"Well...yes," you say hesitantly, pushing against his chest slightly.

"Then? Won't you give it to me?"

"I could, but they're not as good as yours," you mutter, fiddling with your hands.

"And?" he asks again.

"You still want them?" you say, surprised. "They're not that great Kaeya."

"They come from you, so as far as I'm concerned they're amazing. Is that not good enough for you?" he pouts again, making you sigh and get the package.

He was right. He didn't really care where they were from as long as they came from you. Honestly, you probably could have given him a rock and he would have reacted just as happily, hugging you tightly and telling you how this was the best day ever.

You couldn't help but laugh at his antics, hugging him close as you planned how to make it up to him next year.

[celestialkth]

mourning the loss of your boyfriend's beloved childhood pet, he surprises you with an afternoon that helps to mend your broken heart.

➵ pairing ; taehyung x fem reader

➵ genre ; fluff

➵ word count ; 2.3K

➵ warnings ; talking of losing a pet , use of affectionate nicknames , some language , they're v in love w each others

➵ author's note ; first drabble that occurs in the mikrokosmos universe ❥ a lovely friend and moot ( @axialitae ) mentioned that i could write drabbles about this couple, then work on their origin fic. so that's what i'm going to do •ᴗ•

i'm excited to write more drabbles about them and introduce them to everyone. i've seen other authors open their inboxes for people to ask their characters questions, and i would love to do that with them. i'll link it below if you'd like to talk with them •ᴗ•

masterlist | series masterlist | chat w the characters

boyf <3 [4:54]

bad news

miso died

[4:55]

NO

PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE JOKING

boyf <3 [4:55]

babygirl 

:|

why wld i joke abt tht

[4:56]

ok ASSHOLE

that’s not what i meant

boyf <3 [4:58]

can’t believe my duck died an ur bullying me

[4:58]

how are you doing?

boyf <3 [4:59]

im ok. he was old an wasn’t eating. kinda expected it

what abt u, tho

eomma was more concerned abt u

[5:00]

i feel like i’m going to be sick

boyf <3 [5:00]

nooooo

deep breaths

[5:01]

i’m just so sad

i love miso so much

and now he’s gone

i can’t feed him anymore

or give him kisses

he’s not going to lay in my lap anymore

boyf <3 [5:03]

:(

u were his fac

fav*

loved him mom. eomma’s boy

[5:04]

eomma’s boy :(

boyf <3 [5:04]

i was his dad but fuck me ig

[5:05]

thank you. that made me laugh

i’m so sad, tae

time to change my lock screen

to that photo of you and miso

the one i love sm :(

boyf <3 [5:06]

what abt the one of u w him?

[5:06]

noooo. i want you two

my boys <3

boyf <3 [5:07]

cute

i love you, babygirl

[5:08]

i love you too

very, very much <3

Two weeks have passed since losing Miso. A week and a half since Mrs Kim had made the decision to rehome Namjoon’s duck to someone with an entire flock. The first visit to Tae’s house had felt lonely. Your heart aching when you had looked out the back door, hitting hard when realizing there will never be another moment where you can see the duck that had captured your heart.

Never another time where you’ll see him waddle around his enclosure, swimming in his little pond and feasting on his food. No more chances of teasing Tae that he should’ve chosen the name ‘Cow’ instead for Miso’s black and white features. Tae had held you close when you lost it in his room. Quieting you each time you tried to apologize for being so dramatic and telling you that it’s never easy to lose something you love.

Comforting you when you should’ve been comforting him.

He’d been the one to lose his childhood pet. He’d been eight when his parents introduced the idea of getting their sons a pet to help combat the stress of moving to a foreign country and the difficulties of language barriers. But dogs were out of the equation. The high maintenance of providing a good life clashed with their bustling one. And cats didn’t stand a chance for consideration with Mr Kim’s allergy.

The idea of welcoming birds into their home merely falling into their laps on a random afternoon when they’d traveled to the local farming supply store, and Namjoon had been enraptured by the assortment of ducks and chicks for sale.

Miso had been there for Tae through it all. Through his high school graduation, through his romances and heartbreak. Through the heartache that came when Jin and Namjoon moved out to study in prestigious universities in different parts of the country. He’d always been there, and it hurts that now he’s not.

boyf <3 [11:02]

u home?

[11:05]

ya

in my room

boyf <3 [11:06]

im outside

let’s go for a drive pls?

[11:07]

cannot lie. that’s a little concerning

boyf <3 [11:08]

hush. its not bad :|

im trying to be cute n spontaneous 

[11:09]

give me like five minutes to change?

boyf <3 [11:09]

ok :)

He’s scrolling through Twitter when you climb into his front seat. His gentle humming to the unfamiliar song from his Spotify is music to your ears. “Hi, Babe.” Tae closes out of the app, dropping his phone into its designated cup holder before leaning across the console to greet you with a kiss.

“Hi,” you smile, buckling yourself in. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” Showing that he’s serious about being spontaneous. He’s never been one to do surprises, always spoiling it before he can stop himself. “But it’s a bit of a drive. Would you like a silly little beverage for the ride?”

“Of course.”

The neighborhood is quiet. Despite the picturesque sky and the warm, welcoming sun, there’s not a single soul in sight. It’s the perfect weather for a leisurely adventure.

“You’re very serious about being spontaneous,” you comment. He reaches, his hand finding its favorite place upon your thigh. “You’re usually horrible at keeping secrets.” Tae bursts out laughing. His beautiful smile filling his face. “But I love it. I can’t wait to see what you have planned.”

“Trust me,” he snorts. “I almost blew this one too.”

He stops at a small gas station not too far from your house. Gathering a snack and drink each before piling back into his car to begin the adventure he’s so excited about. Road trips with him are fun. From singing along to your favorite songs, forcing him into duets of songs he pretends to hate, to the ridiculous little comments made that send you both into fits of lighthearted giggles. Even with no clear destination in mind, it doesn’t feel like you’re traveling for long, and after an hour, you arrive.

“An industrial park?” You tease. Pretending you don’t notice the sign for a small trail tucked away in a mess of trees. Tae lunges at you, wrapping you in his arms and lifting you off the ground. “I was joking!” You exclaim through giggles.

“No, not an industrial park, you dingus.” His own laughter mingles with yours, and he sets you back onto the ground. “Hobi was talking about this trail. And I found this. Thought it would be fun to get out and explore.”

And so you do.

Following the paved pathway through winding trees. Gentle sounds of rushing water are distant background noise but loud enough to coax you away. You set out to explore, finding dirt paths and stairs, worn down grass and hills to climb. A beautiful little creek hides amongst it all, and you’ve never felt so carefree.

The path is small. A welcoming swing overlooks a hill that peers down onto the water, but after finding a spider hidden within the webs and Tae’s refusal to kill it, you carry on. Going until the path ends in another parking lot and you start making the trek back.

“This was fun. I’m glad we came.” You swing your hand entwined with his, basking in the different sights and noises that surround you. And Tae beams, proud of himself for a successful day. “I bet there are so many more beautiful places to discover.”

“We’re not done yet,” he promises. And when you return to his car, rather than get into it, Tae drags you along, continuing the walk. Following a sidewalk that runs alongside the creek and leads into a busier part of this small town.

“Now city hall? Are we going to pay our property taxes?”

He heaves a sigh. Trying his hardest to seem annoyed but falling victim to a laugh. “Fine, that one was funny,” Tae admits. “But no, we’re not going to city hall.” The sidewalk ends, a marker points in the direction of where the trail reconnects. And after crossing a small street and passing through another parking lot, you’re back on track. Stumbling upon a small pond.

“This is cute,” you smile. Loving what different treasures are hidden about. Even in the midst of the bustle of small town traffic, the cutest little pond offers peace. “I can’t believe this is here, and that you found it.”

“Wait, there’s more!” Tae reaches for your hand. He drags you along, moving a little faster than before. A small red bridge crosses over the creek, and he doesn’t stop until you’re on the opposite side. “Surprise!”

And tears spring to your eyes. A small flock of ducks. All gathered under the tree for shade from the unforgiving sun. A few stragglers even swim in the water. “Taehyung!” He beckons you into his arms. Holding you close and his sweet laugh is music to your ears. “I can’t believe you!”

“I wanted to surprise you.” His hand wraps around the back of your head. Holding you, comforting you while you sob into his chest. “It’s been so heartbreaking seeing how hard you’ve been taking Miso’s death.”

Your heart floods with warmth. The tears that fall are filled with the love that overflows, and you can’t find the words to describe all that he is to you.

“I love you,” you beam. “I love you so much.”

“And I love you even more.” Tae presses a soft kiss to your head, giving you an affectionate squeeze before slipping from your grasp. “Come on, let’s feed them. There’s a machine over here.” And he drags you back across the bridge towards a large stand where two dispensers are filled with pellets.

“I left my wallet in your car.”

He scoffs, “As if I’ll let you pay. I’ve come prepared.” Tae dips into his front pocket, retrieving a handful of quarters. And with the largest, proudest smile upon his face, he thrusts his hand towards you.

“I’m so spoiled.” But he passes a couple to you, holding the rest securely while the dispenser releases a load of pellets into your awaiting hands. “Come on!” You beam. Leaving Tae being as you race back towards the flock.

But he doesn’t speak. Still watching with a loving smile, he allows you the moment to bask in this happiness.

A couple ducks take interest at what’s in your hands. Inching their way towards you when you toss food in their general direction. Tears of utter bliss threaten to spill, and you lower to your knees when others become curious.

“Tae,” you whisper. He stands off to the right, not wanting to risk scaring them off if he were to come closer. “Look at them. Look at the babies.” He digs for his phone. Memorializing the moment with pictures.

He’s unaware that your heart is on the brink of exploding. From the overwhelming love that resides for your second favorite animal to the immense love that your heart possesses for him and only him. A few tears slip through your lashes, the only way you can express the emotions that bubble inside you.

You’ve never had someone care so much for you. And you’re not sure what you’ve done to deserve this.

Tae’s patient as you continue feeding the ducks. His smile not budging each time you return for pellets, and when his stash of change runs dry, it’s your cue to leave. You walk back to his car hand-in-hand. But you cling to him, your arms wrapped around his. Your head against his bicep, desperate to shower him with your love and affection after all he’d done for you. You’re desperate for him to know how in love with him you are.

“Have fun?” He asks.

But he has no idea. You nod. “Best day ever.” And a small tint of red burns in his face. “I love you so much. Thank you for doing this for me.”

He shrugs, as if it were nothing. But his permanent grin gives him away, how proud he is that he’s come up with this idea. “I’m glad. You deserved this,” he replies, and you heart is not safe. Seconds from combusting. You’re impatient to get back to your house and love on him well into the night.

The drive back is peaceful. Exhausting settling in from the heat, you two ride in comfortable silence. Halfway through the drive, his phone buzzes with a message from his mom. He asks you to answer, sneaking the briefest glance at the screen. And when his phone unlocks, opening to their last conversation, one of the numerous photos he’d taken stares back with a message in Korean that you can’t understand.

“She replied with a heart,” you answer. “And something I don’t understand.” Coming to a stop at a green-light-turned-red, he looks at the screen, nodding but not uttering a word. “What did you tell her?”

He starts to smirk. Leaving you to dread whatever’s going to come from his mouth. “It’s right there,” Tae teases. “You can’t read it?” His laughter fills the car when you groan. Delighted in your reaction as he always is.

“No,” you answer. “I’m trying to learn, but my tutor always get distracted during lessons.”

“Can’t help it. Hearing you speak Korean makes me want to kiss you. Is that such a sin?” He scoffs. “If wanting to kiss your girlfriend is a crime, then lock me away.” The light switches to green, the car in front of you hesitating a second before slowly crossing the intersection.

“Charges dropped. But please tell me what you said? Please, Tae Tae. Pretty please.”

He laughs a little more. “All I said was that you have no idea how happy you make me.” The tips of his ears turn a little red at his admission. But your heart is damn near close to exploding again. “I think she said that she loves us. I’m not sure, I didn’t really read it.” His attention remains focused on the road.

But yours is stuck on him.

“I love you.” His lips curl upward, sneaking a glance before turning back to the road. “I wish there was something stronger than love. Because I more than love you.” Tae peels a hand away from the steering wheel to take yours.. “Do you realize how frustrating it is to look at you and not have any words that can tell you how much you mean to me?”

He nods. “Every single time I look at you,” Tae replies. “But actions speak louder, and I can feel how much you love me in everything you do. I am one lucky man.” You want to throw yourself at him, want to shower him in your endless love and affection. But you settle for a squeeze of his hand. One that you hope he knows means you’re lucky too.

And you pray that he’s yours forever.

[azurethevampire]

I tend to find drabble prompts so much easier if I look up the lists and this was on one! With any of the Chicago shows please!

"Can you bail me out? Please?"

The reader in this is loosely based on another Chicago One OC of mine, different from the one appearing in my previous Chicago Fire fics.

Enjoy!

•-•-•-•-•

The line kept ringing. He wasn't going to pick up, was he? 

Your fingers nervously tapped against the back of the phone, your mind hyper-aware of the watchful eyes of the officer sitting next to you. You glanced up at him, biting your lip as the phone rang for the fifth time. 

The officer looked young, and he must be new in the force. Otherwise your last name alone should have told officer Morgan who you were related to. Then again, maybe it did and he just didn't care. 

Sixth…

"Tough luck, kid." Good god, could a man sound any more smug? 

The line rung a seventh time. C'mon, pick up the cursed phone! 

Officer Morgan reached a hand towards the phone already, you leaning back in your seat as much as you could. "No, wait, he'll–"

"Halstead." 

"Finally!" You exclaimed, hearing a familiar voice pick up the line at last. Unable to keep your pent up stress about the situation at bay any longer, you snapped "What the hell took you so long?!" Immediately regretting your choice of words at the look officer Morgan was giving you. He even crossed his arms over his chest. Feeling hotness creep up to your ears, you grimaced.

"Y/N? Is that you?" 

"No, it's the Sandman calling to you", you deadpanned. Grimacing again right after the words left you. "Sorry!" You quickly said more to officer Morgan's (who looked this close to ripping the phone away from you) benefit than your brother's. 

"Yes, it's me, Will." 

"What's up, Bean? I'm kind of in a hurry right now." 

Unbeknownst to Will, hearing your childhood nickname made you feel even worse for what you were about to ask. 

"Uh, okay, I get it, you're busy doctoring or whatever, but I'm… well, I'm here and I found myself in a bit of a - uh, situation?" 

"Here where?" Will asked. "Are you hurt?" Ah, always the doctor, wasn't he? 

"Um… Chicago police station?" 

"... What did you do?" You could practically hear him pinch his nose from his end of the line, probably wondering what trouble you had gotten yourself into and why was it always him you called when you needed help. 

There was a simple answer to that. Jay was a cop. Besides Will was the oldest, so by your reasoning, it was him first you went to with pretty much everything and Jay second.

"Nothing!" Your voice raised an octave. "It's a misunderstanding, I promise! Look, just… Can you bail me out? Please." You added in your best innocent voice. 

There was sigh on the other end of the line. Then muffled exchange of words with someone as Will most likely covered the microphone with his hand. 

"Alright." He eventually returned. "Which precinct station are you?" He paused just enough time for you to supply the information. 

"And Y/N?" 

"Yeah?"

"Jay's coming too." 

With that Will hung up, leaving you to process his words. The world just wasn't fair to you today; instead of one brother you had to face two. You really had hoped that by contacting Will there could have been a chance Jay had never found out about this stupid mistake of a mess you found yourself in. 

[deepeststarfishsong]

My Gallavich Intro

Thanks for putting this together, @callivich!

Name: Samsa or Sam

Age: 32

What made you fall in love with Gallavich? I'm a sucker for a slightly toxic, codependent enemies-to-lovers gay romance. I didn't stand a chance. I love that no matter how insanely shitty the world gets, they show up for each other as best they can. They made an effort to work through so much for one another.

How long have you been a fan? I initially tried watching Shameless in 2016 but never got into it. I'm a social worker for a living and it stressed me out too much, felt like work-sometimes I'd realize I was writing case evals on the Gallagher family in my head. This year I finally got sucked in and there was no getting out.

Favourite Gallavich moment/scene? When Mickey trails Ian and Ned North to happy hour at the Fountain. All that aloof, untouchable, heartless pretense is gone-its so out of his norm, he has no excuse. He shows his whole hand in the most Mickey way possible and Ian sees it for what it is.

Favourite Shalmeless character apart from Ian and Mickey? Probably Lip. He's intermittently a self centered tool, but I appreciate who he is for Ian.

Do you write or draw or make edits? I write! I do ficlets and drabbles here on Tumblr and longer one-shots over on AO3 under the same name.

Favourite type of Gallavich fics?

-Canon compliant or slight canon divergent. I wish I was into AU, there's some great AU writing out there it just isn't my jam.

-Fluff and angst, hurt and comfort, getting together

Favourite Gallavich quote? “Ian, what you and I have makes me free." The fact that he'd grown enough to know he'd felt trapped and to have realized so much about himself in the process.

Anything else you’d like to share about yourself? I'm loving the @galladrabbles community. I felt included right away and it's been cool to write on badass prompts and read such good work every Monday.