#i hope you are well anon and everything is okay <3

[dimitrscu]

hey! saw another anon tell you this and you dont have to respond either but i wanted to let you know as someone going through a similar stance with homophobic family that we can make it through this!!! i dont know how but its possible somehow im sure and i hope you feel better v soon and have a very good day

thank you for the kind words! i hope things get better for you too <3

[ray935sworld]

Beznaia forcefully, please?

Sure thing! Thanks for the idea! So this was intresting to write. I hope you'll like how I wrote it, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. It got a little more possessive and jealous as I expect.

(Potential dub-con but everyone is happy about making out and consents to it so not actual dub-con. More lack of discussion) And allusions to NSFW content

"Satisfied" Marco Bezzecci x Pecco Bagnaia - forcefuly - 1.8k words

Sure. Pecco was definitely calm. He was known to be mostly calm and collected – if he wasn’t being irritated.  There was no anger buzzing with the same rhythm as the loud music. Why would there be? He had won the championship for the 2nd time. His veins weren't flooded with frustration. He was the king of his sport, wasn’t he? No need for frustration when his holidays had only just started. His hand definitely hadn't gripped his drink just slightly tighter as he watched Bez basically being publicly fucked on a dance floor in Valencia.

Bez was dancing with good 5 centimetre space between them, a stranger. He looked like a local men, his body tanned and his hair black. He seemed to be around their age. Maybe older. And there was no denying that the other was very hot. He was taller than Bez, a little bulkier with handsome features.

Pecco continued to watch him while drinking his vodka. The alcohol burned his mouth. For some reason he had decided to keep it in just for a few seconds longer. He felt the drops burn his cheeks from the inside. He felt the heat radiate under his tongue. Then he swallowed.

He felt it ran down his throat. It felt like daggers stabbing him from the inside. Even his stomach felt like being ripped apart. He closed his eyes for a seconds and shacked himself to made the feeling go away.

He had done it. For the 2nd time. In a row. He had won motogp. He had won the 2023 titled and therefore reclaimed his victory from 2022. He had archived what they all - included Bez - wanted. He had fulfilled his childhood dream not once but twice.

And still he felt angry. Dissatisfied. There was a pinch in his chest that wouldn't go away, no matter how many wins he got. Even winning the championship by winning the race had done nothing to make it go away. He still wasn't happy.

It wasn't the same as last year. Last year he had felt like the king of the world. Last year he felt like he could do anything he would set his mind to. He had been undefeatable. He had felt like a winner . He had been fulfilled.

But something had changed. Something had changed him since last year.

Cause now he felt like he could only get a quarter if what he actually desired. When he found the second glass of vodka in his hands, he wondered why he had even bothered ordering lemon vodka. The stuff tasted all the same to him. Maybe some people could taste a difference. But he couldn’t and he didn’t really care.

It was way past 2am. Maybe even 3... Or 4?  He had lost track of time. At some point Vale had insisted he should stop drinking. He did. For a few hours. He had water and lemonade and cola - more than he ever did in his life. But nothing seemed to help. Not even when he and Bez, Vale, Luca and some of his friends  had taken a midnight McDonald's break when changing clubs. The feeling stayed in his veins.

He hold the liquor in his hand as he watched Marco. His dark brown curls were shaking. He was throwing his head back, his neck exposed. The skin looked soft. Perfect to place a hickey there. It’d be a shame not to. He saw the sweat reflecting the damp light of the club. He felt his blood shoot up.

Yeah… He wanted to know how the Italian would taste. He wanted to know what his naked skin would feel like if he sucked it enough to create a violet colouring and present the world the evidence of what they had done together. He wanted to make him sweat like that.

He watched his best friends smiling about having the hands of another man around his neck. Seeing the scene unfold as careless as right now, made the unplaceable feeling in his body grow. He was angry. On the day - or night - of his 2nd MotoGP championship, his 3rd overall, all he felt was rage. And he hated it. Shouldn’t this be a great night? One of the few when he could get it all.

But he didn’t had it all. He fucking didn’t. Because he wanted Bez. There was no denying it anymore. He had decided on him. Maybe it had happened today or last year. Or maybe when he had cursed himself as a teenager for having a crush on the new boy in the academy and he had promised himself that it wasn’t love, just a friendly adoration for the newcomer.

Instead of him, that fucking stranger had what he wanted. Why even him? If it'd be Cele, he wouldn't feel this way. Pecco was sure about that. He had seen the two friends flirt many times and dance together. As friends. But this stranger? He could smell his attention from over here and he wouldn’t let him get away with it.

He felt the glass on his lips. The burning sensation that hadn't really left, returned. He drank again.

Then he saw Bez putting his hand on the other man's cheek. And he lost it. With a loud stomp he smashed the glass on the table. He stood up, paying the bartender who gave him a judge look. She obviously wasn't a fan of the way he treated her glasses. As a silent apology he gave her an extra tip. She hadn't done anything after all.

Then he went for Marco. All the anger, all the emotion took form. The rage in his eyes were unmatched. He went straight for the curly hair rider.

Bez spotted him before he even approached him. He gave him a short smile but his hand continued to rest on the other man's hip.

„Please excuse us" Francesco hissed at the stranger, giving him an angry look. He hoped to shoot him a clear message as he forcefully took Bez hand - the one that had rested on the other man's hip.

He pressed himself between the two as he pulled the younger rider towards the other side. As he did he whispered an audible „Bastardo" to the man. Just for good measure. He had to make sure he wouldn't try that again.

He felt Bez tugging at his hand. „Pecco!" For a moment the Italian felt like he was being scolded. Marco had apparently heard the insult and was now a little too hesitant to follow the other for his liking.

He turned around to see Bez look at him questionably. „We need to talk. Now." he hissed against the loud music. Before the other could answer, their fingers let go of each other and he instead felt Peccos arm around his lower back. He was basically now pressed towards the other side of the dance floor.

Bez decided to obey. Mainly cause he was curious what was going on in Pecco's drunk head and cause he didn't want to annoy anyone around them.

Like that, they went towards the exit.

They left the club and Bez felt the coldness of the Spanish night hit him. He smiled, happy to get some fresh air in his drunk mind. He was still able to think enough but he felt tipsy.

Pecco on the other hand only felt one thing. Hate. Desire. Anger and love. Admiration and rejection. Everything was mixed in his body and he was unable to tell one from the other.

Before he could stop himself, he acted. He  grabbed his best friend by the waist and pushed him back. He pushed him against the wall of the club and placed his hands on his shoulders. He felt his muscles. He felt how tense his whole body suddenly was.

If he had been sober enough he would have realized that it's a sign of fear. But he wasn't sober enough. Instead he just realized that this might be the only chance he ever got.

His other hand caught Bez chin. He hold it up, making him look at him. There was a weird look on Marcos face. Confusion. Fear. Maybe a hint of arousal. All in one. Not that a drunk Pecco had the brain capacity to realize that.

Instead he just kissed him.

He pressed his lips against Bez. For a moment he felt the other move his body. Without hesitation he fixated the younger one more against the cold stones. His frustration was boiling to the top. He was so close to finally getting what he wanted. He wouldn't let him slip away now.

There was a roughness as he moved quickly and demanding. He stepped even closer, close enough for their whole body to touch as he adjusted the other's jar slightly.

He had a new angle that gave him more access to those plumb and full lips that had started to move according to him. In a way he wished. He could make them move like he wanted. It wouldn’t even be complicated.

Marco has just obeyed. He had accepted being taken like that. And when he did, when Pecco forcefully kissed his best friend like they would both die any seconds, he moaned quietly against him.

Fransceso took that as an encouragement. He was determined to get that sound out his best friend once more. But more intense. More desperate. More everything. He needed it. He wanted to make him feel the same rage and frustration he had felt the whole evening.

And he started at his mouth.

All it took for Pecco to get full access was to slightly open his mouth and Marco did the same. He groaned as he felt the other ones tongue against his own. He had always thought a kiss like that might be weird, even disgusting but this feeling was nothing like that. It was everything. It was full and made him feel powerful.

He couldn’t help but wonder what that mouth might feel like if explored. Marcos breath was already hot. His whole mouth must be as well. His mouth must feel hot and wet, reaching perfection with his skilful tongue. He needed that mouth around a certain part of his anatomy. As fast as possible.

Then he let go of Marco. Both men were breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after being unable to gain new oxygen for some time.

They shared a look. Both unable to really react. Both unsure what to say. So instead, Marco rested his forehead against Pecco's head.

„That was hot" he whispered. „You wanna continue, bello?"

Pecco let out a laugh he hadn’t noticed he was holding in as his arms found their way around Marcos waist. The hate was gone. The anger had disappeared. The knot in his stomach had been uncurled. He felt satisfied. Well… Almost.

„You really think I want to stop now?"

But he knew there was a way to make him fully satisfied.

[bananayuyu]

Cabin Fever [part 2]

Pairing: Yunho x f reader

Genre: fluff and smut

Word count: 9.7k

Summary: The third day of your trip brings a storm, and even more cramps. You try to navigate the day the best you can, but really you just need to be taken care of, in the way it matters most.

Warnings: MDNI, smut, fingering, period sex, use of a condom, reader has really bad cramps again, some mxm (Seonghwa and Hongjoong)

A/n: I have had such a fun time writing this part, thank you all for the response on part 1! I am falling in love with this cozy world and wish I could live in it for real. Thank you so much to the anon who requested a part 2! I hope you all enjoy <3

Taglist: @pautiny27 @kierraperkins3 @yoonjikim @luvbit3z @pancake-freckle

I'm definitely planning on continuing the series for a while so if you want to be tagged for upcoming parts, let me know!

You can read part 3 here!

You stretch over to find your phone, unhooking it from its charging cable. The light is dim through the window, the room looks almost hazy. Squinting at the screen, you see a missed text from Seonghwa asking if you're doing okay, sent an hour ago.

"It's almost 11:30, we should really get up," you yawn, poking Yunho in the ribs to get his attention. He has once again wrapped himself around you tightly, face buried in your hair, and you're not sure if he's even awake.

"No," he groans, his voice low and gravely. It send a shudder through you, and all of the feelings from last night surface again. You can already feel the pains starting in your lower abdomen, the muscles cramping. You wish it could be night already and he could be making you feel good again.

"We can't just stay in here all day," you say, much as you sort of want to. But you also don't want to waste a day of your time with all of your other friends. Yunho just groans, not wanting to agree with you but knowing you're right. He's just so asleep still, so in the haze of sleeping next to you. He really just wants to stay like this, forever.

"Okay, well, I really have to pee," you say, giggling, peeling yourself off of him. He lets out a small sound of disappointment but doesn't stop you. You turn around and see his tousled hair, his puffy, sleepy eyes. You lean down and place a quick kiss on his temple before making your way to the bathroom, another pad in hand.

The cramps hit you again when you're sat on the toilet, and you double over, feeling light-headed. It doesn't seem like you're bleeding quite as hard as yesterday but you still feel awful, despite all of the restful sleep you got. You gingerly clean yourself up, holding onto the counter as you stand, pausing for a moment so you don't pass out. You sigh, trying not to feel the frustration. But it's hard not to.

When you open the door you are met with Yunho, his messy hair now covered up by his hoodie, his eyes still very sleepy.

"Sorry for taking so long," you say, assuming he really needed to pee. You aren't paying attention, the cramps overwhelming you.

"Hey, look," he says as you start walking past. When you do finally look back you see that he's brought you pain meds and a glass of water. Your face softens immediately.

"Oh, thank you," you say, taking them immediately.

"Are they bad today?" he asks, a hand on your cheek. You just nod. "Go lay down then."

"I wanna hang out with everyone, though," you pout, looking at the floor.

"Well, go lay in the living room then," he suggests.

"Okay," you mumble, heading that way with your glass of water in hand. He watches you walk away, an obvious discomfort and weakness in your body, and it makes his chest hurt. When you were friends in high school he really only saw you on your good days, when you were feeling okay. It wasn't until living with you that he really saw the worst of everything, the truth of your health issues. You never spoke of them often, never truly explained it to him. Living together had forced you to, and when he showed himself to be genuinely good at caring for you, you'd let him in a bit more. He knew you didn't like the idea of people seeing you at your sickest. He never gave much thought to the idea when he was younger, that some people's bodies are wracked with issues from the start, that they never get to know what it's like to be able to rely on your body to carry you through everything. You were so young; though you were the same age as most of the rest of the friend group, you'd always been seen as the baby. He certainly always thought of you as small, in need of protection. He didn't want to tell you that, because he knew you'd hate the idea. It didn't help that you were smarter than most of them, when it came to the practical and academic aspects of life. You were far more mature in many ways. But they had the healthy bodies; they were the ones who were able to move out at eighteen, to become financially independent. It would take you many more years, and two very supportive friends to live with you, before you could move out.

When you make it to the living room you plop down next to Ari and San, snuggling under a blanket. The cabin was colder than you expected, the sky outside still dark.

"Has it been like that all morning?" you ask Ari, staring out the window.

"It was actually raining for a while earlier, it just stopped maybe thirty minutes ago."

"Oh really? No wonder I slept in so long," you reply, sighing into the warmth of your blanket.

"Are you doing okay?" she asks.

"Yeah, but I still feel like crap," you say, frowning. Sipping your water you try to relax, try to get your mind away from how terrible your lower abdomen feels.

"Do you need any pain meds?" she asks you, her face showing obvious concern. Even San is turned towards you and looking worried.

"No, no, I just took some. Thank you though," you respond, squeezing her hand. "I should probably eat something though, I'm starving."

"I think Seonghwa and Hongjoong are making some lunch, I'll go get you some," San replies, standing up.

"Oh, you don't have to," you start, taken aback by the kindness of this almost total stranger. But he walks that way anyway, not stopping at your words.

"He's so freaking nice, what the hell," you say to Ari.

"I know," she laughs, shaking her head. "I almost can't believe it's real sometimes."

"Men just aren't usually like that," you say, and right then Yunho crosses the room, making brief eye contact with you. He heads towards the kitchen, looking like his mind is set on something.

"The guys in our friend group are," she replies.

"Well, that's true. I guess I should say, straight men aren't usually like that, especially if they aren't romantically interested in you," you clarify. "At least not in my experience in the world, and I barely interact with men or go out in public."

"I know, the amount of horrifying behavior I saw at college is crazy. And even now still at my work. I know so many people tried to warn me to be careful around men when I was growing up, but I did not realize just how scary it would be to be in the adult world and have a uterus," she replies. She looks at you, earnestly; how nice it is to have another girl in your group, who understands what it is to exist in the world in your bodies.

"Uteruses should be banned," you say, placing a hand on your stomach. "This thing needs to get the hell out of my body."

Ari laughs, the bright sound raising your spirits. "I would have taken it out for you myself years ago, if I could," she laughs, resting her head on your shoulder.

"What just, reached up inside and like, pulled it out?" you laugh.

"Girl, your mind goes to the strangest places. Now I can't get that visual out of my head," she laughs, a hand coming to rest over her eyes.

"I wish I could do it myself," you reply, "just like-" you reach your hand down and spread your legs, miming the action; you both break into giggles.

"What was that?" Yunho asks as he sits down next to you, a cup of tea in hand. He holds it out towards you, careful to hand you the handle so you don't burn your hands.

"Y/n just being her usual self," Ari replied, still laughing. Yunho just looked confused, sipping at his own cup of coffee.

"I was showing her how I'd remove my uterus, if I could. I wish someone could just reach up in there and take it out," you clarify.

"You should make Yunho do it, he's got big hands," she says.

"Ari!" you shriek, crumpling into a heap of laughter with her. Yunho's ears go red, and he clears his throat to try to calm himself.

"You two are something else," he says, turning away, looking for anyone else to make conversation with.

"Wait, did Yunho make you that cup of tea?" Ari asked you, and at the mention of his name his attention stayed put.

"Yeah," you reply, not sure why she's interested. "He makes me and Hwa tea and coffee like all the time."

"That's sweet. See, we're so lucky to have these boys. He's the perfect example of a straight man who has no romantic interest in you, but still takes care of you."

You know she means it earnestly, from the way a small smile creeps onto her lips, making her eyes crinkle at the corners. But you and Yunho both stop dead in your tracks, your throats simultaneously going dry.

"Yeah, true," you say, trying to be normal. Like this morning, when Seonghwa found you in bed together. The words come out rough and you try to swallow, but it hurts and your eyes squeeze shut for a moment. You take another sip of your tea, trying to appear calm.

"What, Yunho, did I say something weird?" Ari asks, and you look over to see his stony face, his eyes looking almost distant. Something about it makes your heart drop, for a moment, and you don't know why. Something in you begs for him to act normal too, but you realize there's no point. No point in pretending like nothing happened, even if you don't know what it means.

"I need to tell you something," you whisper to Ari, your face just inches from her ear. She leans even closer, clearly excited by your tone. You drop your volume even lower, putting your hand over your mouth to block the sound from going anywhere else. "Last night he like, fingered me."

"What?!" she asks in a whisper, her eyes going wide with excitement.

"Shh, please keep your face normal," you beg her, knowing that isn't possibly going to happen. But you don't want everyone to find out this very second, you'd like it to stay between the two of you. Ari does her best to still her face, knowing you don't want to draw attention. At least it's fairly normal, for the two of you to share secrets. The boys have always respected when you two say something is just for your ears.

"Yeah I was like, hurting last night and he like, made me feel better," you whisper, you both breaking out into giggles.

"Girl," she says, clearly wanting you to continue.

"I'll tell you everything once there's not like twenty people in the room with us," you say, a goofy smile not leaving your face.

"Aww," she says poking your cheek, and you swat her hand away, jokingly rolling your eyes. Ari keeps looking between the two of you, observing the way his body seems drawn towards you even as he sits a bit away, his legs stretching out to meet yours. She has so many questions, seeing as you'd never mentioned having a crush on him. His crush on you had been obvious to her for a while, but she'd never really mentioned it. It always seemed that people in the group had crushes from time to time, due to everyone's closeness. But sometimes they passed, sometimes they came to nothing. It was one of the reasons your group of friends had stayed close for so long; no one really forced closeness or forced information out of one another. Sometimes she felt like it made you less close than you could be. But she knew it also meant no one felt stepped on or smothered.

***

After lunch was served the weather had cleared a bit, and Jongho suggested that everyone play a game of basketball out on the small court to the south of the cabin. Not one of you had plans for the day, and with the way the weather was behaving that was definitely a good thing. You and Ari laid on the couch together, barely overhearing the conversation unfolding. You knew even if you wanted to you couldn't go and play, and the warmth of the couch was a lifesaver against the damp coolness in the air. The rain was not unusual for the time of year, but you swore it never had been this cold during your cabin trips.

"Will you stay inside with me?" you asked her.

"Of course. I wouldn't leave you alone in here. Also, I don't really feel like getting hurt today. You know how competitive they all get," she laughs, holding up her arm and showing you a large cut on the underside.

"My god, what's that from?" you ask.

"Wooyoung pushed me when we were playing waterpolo by the falls, and I scraped my arm on one of the rocks."

"Of course it was him," you chuckle, taking a closer look. "Did you wash it out yesterday?"

"It's not really that deep, but yeah. I'm sure it'll heal quick. I just really don't feel like playing basketball on a wet, slick court."

"And it's so cold, I don't know why they feel like going outside."

"It's not that cold," she says, looking at you confused.

"Wait, really?" you ask. She shakes her head. "Ok well for some reason, I'm freezing."

"One sec," she says, getting up and taking a blanket from the other side of the bed. "Y/n is cold," she says to the group, pointing to you all curled up in your one blanket. Everyone grabs their remaining blankets and one by one, layer them on you.

"This is too much," you whine, but you can't deny you like the attention. You really appreciate the way they all joke around with you; it always makes you feel better.

When all of the boys headed out to play, you finally got a chance to tell Ari everything.

"Your periods are still that bad?" Ari asks you when you tell her how you were feeling the previous night. "You hardly ever mention it anymore."

"It's just, so normal at this point. I guess. I don't know, you know it isn't fun to talk about. Plus this one really has been extra bad. I haven't had one this bad in a while," you respond.

"Well I'm glad he was there to comfort you. You know you could have told everyone how you were feeling yesterday. You didn't have to pretend like you were fine at dinner."

"I don't know, Wooyoung's cousins are here and so is San, I don't really know any of them," you say.

"Let me assure you, San would not care. And I doubt Woo's cousins would either, I mean we've been around them before, they seem very kind. He wouldn't bring them around you if he thought they'd be weird about something as simple as that. I know Woo acts like he doesn't give a shit about anything, but he really cares about you. I overheard him asking Seonghwa this morning how you've been doing," she replies. You look at her tenderly, thankful she shared it with you. As much as you wish Wooyoung would just ask you, you know it's not his way. It warms your heart to know he cares.

"So, how long have you liked Yunho then?" she asks you.

"Dude, I literally don't know. I don't even know what I feel right now," you sigh, shaking your head at her. "I mean, he was really just helping ease my cramps, cause I basically begged him too. And I get fucking horny on my period, I don't know." You put your head in your hands. "I don't even know what words were coming out of my mouth last night."

"So is it just a sexual thing then?" she asks.

"I'm assuming that's how he feels, I mean he's never said anything to the contrary."

"No, I mean for you," she clarifies.

"I.. I don't know. I don't hook up with people, but he's like, one of my best friends, I-" you cut yourself off with a groan, head spinning. "I'm gonna develop feeling for him and he's not gonna feel the same and we live together and it's gonna be a fucking mess," you blurt out, your mind racing out of control.

"Y/n, that man loves you," Ari says, squeezing your shoulder.

"I know Ari, I'm not saying he'd be an asshole about it. But it would still be so awkward for me, and if you love someone platonically that doesn't just change overni-"

"No, he's in love with you," she cuts you off.

"He's said those words to you?" you ask her, incredulous.

"No, but it's obvious to anyone with eyes," she says. You squint questioningly in her direction, feeling like she's just saying what she thinks you want to hear. "Dude I'm serious, Seonghwa has told me about it, the way he is around you. If he's not in love with you then I don't know what it could be."

"He's dated like multiple people since we've known him though, that doesn't make sense," you reply.

"Not since moving in with you," she says. "Has he ever brought any girls over to hang out with? Or to hook up?"

"No," you say, head still spinning.

"That's not because of like, a house rule or something, right?"

"No, we talked about it, we're all okay with bringing people over. Hwa brings over guys sometimes. Well he did when we first moved in, not really this past year."

"But Yunho never has?" she asks again.

You shake your head. "That doesn't mean anything, Ari. He's barely even spoken to me this morning, anyway. He doesn't seem like he's in love. Seems like normal Yunho to me."

"He brought you tea," she says, smirking.

"Oh my god, he always does that," you say, rolling your eyes and also smiling. "I- I don't know how to feel."

"Would you do it again?" she asks. You nod. "Do you like, really really want to do it again?" she continues, making you laugh.

"Yeah," you say, hiding your face in your hands.

"Well, at least you know that. Don't stress about it," she says. "It can just be a fun little thing, it doesn't have to be life changing."

You sigh, soaking in her words. You know what she's saying is absolutely right; it's the kind of advice you'd probably be giving her if the tables were turned. But something about your night with Yunho meaning so little doesn't sit right with you.

"Can you please not tell anyone, not even San? For right now, I don't know what Yunho wants to say," you plead.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that. I don't share things with San just cause he's my boyfriend, I don't think that's fair to my friends," she responds, hugging you.

"I'm so thankful you're here," you say, sighing comfortingly into her embrace.

"Me too. I love them all but they can be a lot," she says, and you both chuckle. Tucked into your layers of blankets you feel warm and cozy, and your chest feels lighter having told someone about your previous night.

***

Close to 3pm, the storm rolls back in to the area; the winds pick up, the clouds darken, and suddenly rain is pouring down. It sounds like the roof of the cabin is being repeatedly pelted with golfballs, the dull sound surprisingly loud. Suddenly all of the boys are sprinting back inside, their wet shoes squeaking on the tile of the kitchen floor. All of them are thoroughly soaked, their hair sticking to their foreheads, clothes stuck to their bodies. They tumble in one after the other, Wooyoung the last to make it in, and you hear his scream all the way from outside. When they finally get inside they all start undressing, their clothes heavy and cold.

"Didn't realize we were staying at a strip club," Ari says, making you laugh. You know they're just uncomfortable, but you can't help but stare at Yunho as he disrobes, his light blue shirt dripping on him as he heaves it over his head. You don't really see him shirtless like this, even though you live together. He's not one for walking around like that. You'd forgotten how broad he really was, how strong his shoulders are. As he goes to ring out his shirt in the sink you see his tricep flex, and the smooth muscles of his back as well. He's tall and lanky, but you'd forgotten just how muscular he was too.

"You're kind of gawking, just so you know," Ari whispers in your ear, making you jump.

"Oh my god, I'm gross," you groan, burrowing your head in her shoulder.

"No not gross, not gross at all. Fuck, every time San is shirtless I want him to fuck me immediately." You glance over at Ari's boyfriend, already anticipating the muscles you're about to see. You could tell even when he was clothed how built he was.

"How often is at the gym?" you ask.

"Basically every day. He can like, easily pick me up and throw me around. And I'm not exactly the lightest person in the world."

"If that's not everyone's dream," you say, giggling.

"Can't Yunho carry you?" she asks.

"Yeah but I'm basically like a sickly little worm, it's not that hard. Even Hwa can lift me," you laugh,

"Okay, well, he can still lift you. And how big is your height difference?"

You just smile at her question, knowing you are blushing.

"God, if we aren't the most simple of women," she laughs.

"No no, I'll have you know I'm very full of logic and feminism and I do not care about muscles, or height, or anything of the sort. Never in my wildest dreams have I thought about how tall he is in comparison to me and gotten all hot and bothered about it," you joke, your blush having moved to your cheeks too.

"So you have thought about him like that!" she exclaims.

"Keep it down!" you chide, when you see Seonghwa shoot a look over at the two of you.

"Sorry, sorry," she laughs, pouting at you. "What are you looking at?" she says to Seonghwa, who rolls his eyes.

***

After the boys had changed and dried off, Wooyoung insisted that everyone watched a scary movie. You were all stuck inside, and everyone had already spent the morning talking and catching up.

"'It matches the vibe of the storm," he said. "It'll be so fun," he laughed, smirking in your direction. He knew how you couldn't handle jump scares and didn't like gore. He promised you the movie he'd selected didn't have either.

"It's more like, a psychological thriller, you know? It's really fun. Set in a cabin in the woods too."

"Okay, fine," you replied, hoping he was telling the truth.

He was, in fact, lying. You found that out about twenty minutes later.

The loud bang made you jump, causing you to launch sideways and grab onto the closest thing to you. It happened to be Yunho's arm.

When everyone sat down, Yunho sat himself right next to you, but didn't say a word. Everyone was chatting, the room filled with chaos as they came down from the adrenaline rush the storm had caused. Ari got up to sit with San and help him dry off, and when Yunho saw you sitting alone he was almost thankful. He didn't know why, but everything Ari had said earlier made him feel almost jumpy. He had seen the two of you giggling and whispering to each other, and felt like something was happening that he didn't understand. When he approached you your face looked distant, and he almost worried you didn't want him there, that you would have preferred her. He sat with his arm around the back of the couch behind you. But when you didn't lean into him at all, didn't seem comfortable with it, he pulled it back down to his side.

"Woo, you promised me!" you whisper yelled after you jumped, your grip on Yunho so strong it almost hurt. You felt so embarrassed at how easily scared you were.

"That wasn't even a jump scare, just a loud sound," Yunho said, and the room chuckled. You frowned, pulling yourself away from him. You weren't sure why you were so sensitive, but what he said made you feel small. And not in a good way.

Everyone else's attention was back on the movie in a second, but Yunho couldn't stop looking at you and your sullen face.

"Hey, I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning ever so slightly towards you. "Come here," he said, moving his arm around your shoulders this time, gently pulling you towards him. You stuffed your head into his chest, suddenly feeling overwhelmed. You weren't sure if you even wanted his comfort. You completely tuned out the movie, closing your eyes. You mind raced with thoughts from the day, and you suddenly realized you hadn't had a chance to talk to Seonghwa. You had wanted to assure him of what was happening, because he lived with you both. You didn't want him worried that you and Yunho had been keeping something from him, sneaking around behind his back. But as you peaked around the room to find his face, you didn't see him anywhere. You felt confused, and exhausted, and suddenly realized how cold you were again. You tried to tuck yourself into the blankets more but it just wasn't enough, so finally you decided to go grab Yunho's hoodie from the library. Maybe one more layer would help.

You slowly crawl your way out of the room, careful not to block anyone's view of the TV. When you finally stand up you're at the edge of the very short hallway that leads to the library. As you stand you notice how dark the sky looks. This window faces out towards the fire pit, and sits where the cabin is directly under a few trees and your view is limited. Still, the view is beautiful. The rain has become more gentle now, and the soft sound soothes you as you look out across the land splattered with greenery. The plants, the trees, they're the reason you really like being out here. You hope that today's the last day you'll have to spend inside, nursing your body. Some movement in your periferral vision catches your eye, and you sweep your gaze back towards the fire pit and the ring of trees that surrounds it. Suddenly you realize why you couldn't find Seonghwa earlier.

Outside, on a lounging chair just to the left of the fire pit, Seonghwa and Hongjoong are kissing. They must have snuck out while the rest of you were occupied with the movie, you realize. You aren't sure how you missed them at first, but in the darkness of the storm and shadow of the trees they almost blended into the landscape. Seonghwa is sat against he back of the chair and Hongjoong is over him, a hand on Seonghwa's thigh. You see him move that hand to pull on Seonghwa's silky black hair, the kiss clearly passionate, heated. The rain patters down around them, but in the cover of the trees they don't look soaked. They certainly don't look bothered. You can't tell, really, from this far away. You shouldn't be trying to look that hard, anyway. You try to tell yourself that. But you're mesmerized, stuck to the spot. You feel overcome with how beautiful they both are.

Soon they're tugging at each other's shirts, and you can tell now from the way they take them off that they must pretty damp. In the struggle you see Hongjoong's muscular back and arms; Seonghwa's face is the picture of lust, his hands moving down quickly to reach inside Hongjoong's pants and start stroking him. They're kissing again, Seonghwa's lean chest heaving, Hongjoong grabbing his legs to wrap them around himself. Tangled together they look like a perfectly choreographed ballet, like they both know exactly where the other is headed. You see Hongjoong's hips start to buck, his mouth moving down to Seonghwa's ear, then neck, his iron grip on Seonghwa's thigh leaving a mark you can see all the way from the window. Seeing the red mark brings a heat to your cheeks; the image of your porcelain doll of a friend being marked up by such a muscular man is not something you thought you'd ever witness. Now that you have, you can't help but think they're perfect together. Suddenly Hongjoong is sitting back, his hands pulling on the band of Seonghwa's shorts and throwing them aside, and you see how hard Seonghwa is, his movements showing how obviously needy he is.

Fuck, I really should stop watching them, you think. You'd seen them both naked before, it's not like your friend group was uncomfortable with much. But this was obviously different, and the way your body was feeling while you witnessed it made you feel a confused and a little guilty. Still, you could not pull yourself away, as you saw Hongjoong lean down over Seonghwa and say something, and Seonghwa's lips curl up in a smile, his head turning to the side as he grabbed onto Hongjoong's arm. They looked so, so in love. With Seonghwa's legs spread Hongjoong reached down, his hand moving between his cheeks, moving in a way you could not make out from your distance. Seonghwa's head fell back in obvious pleasure, and his back arched slightly showing off his lean abdomen. Hongjoong moved his head down to suck on one of his nipples, making Hwa's back arch even further and his mouth fall open. He looked so completely content in such a vulnerable state, and it made your heart ache with happiness. In all of the conversations you'd had with him over the years, you knew he always felt so self-conscious in these situations. It was always shocking to you, given just how beautiful he was. He got propositioned out in public more than anyone in your group, and had to continually turn people down given the industry he worked in. But all of that attention felt uncomfortable to him, usually, and you knew that. To see him so unabashedly open with someone was a rare sight.

Hongjoong's hand moves up and then you see, a tiny glint of something metal in his hand. It must have been a plug Seonghwa had inside himself already. When had he put that in? It must have been after the game, so before the movie? When did he even have the time? You can't stop watching the way Hongjoong lines himself up, stroking a hand through Seonghwa's hair again, finally pushing himself in ever so slowly. The plug sits next to them on the lounging chair, and you swear the gem on the end twinkles at you. He starts thrusting slowly, kissing Seonghwa's cheek, the rain starting to pick up again. It all feels so cinematic, like it couldn't have been more perf-

"What are you looking at?" Yunho whispers into your ear, sliding up behind you. You jump, spinning away from the window and covering your eyes, your elbow hitting him in the ribs.

"Oh god, ow," he says, grabbing his side.

"You scared me," you pout, your head feeling full of molasses from all of the feelings you are having.

"I whispered," he replied. "Why are you so jumpy, are you okay? Why did you you leave the couch?"

"I was cold, I was gonna grab your hoodie. But then, the window, you know, it was pretty outside with the storm and stuff," you reply, averting your eyes.

"Seems like my hoodie is in danger of being re-homed," he replies. He's trying to joke around to lighten your mood, which is obviously not good at the moment. Your eyes on the floor make him worried, and you really don't seem yourself. Or rather, you seem like how you are when you aren't feeling well.

"Here, why don't we look out the window together?" he offers, turning you around to face it again, wrapping his arms around you to try to help you feel warm.

"Oh god, Yunho, no," you mumble as he turns you, and you start stepping out of his reach, mortified at what he's about to see. You feel his arms stretch out and his body begin to move with you, but then he halts.

"Oh, that's what you were looking at," he laughs under his breath, making you cringe. You hope he leaves it at that, that he doesn't say anything else. But soon he opens his mouth again. "Oh god, that's crazy," he says, and you look back to see his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He looks almost horrified, and you wonder for a moment if he's even seeing what you think he's seeing, or if it's something else entirely. With a confused look on your face you scoot towards the window again, to catch a glimpse of whatever has him so shocked.

As soon as your eye line reaches Seonghwa and Hongjoong you too feel a shock, at just how hard Hongjoong is thrusting into him now, his hand on Seonghwa's neck. No longer do the two look like a balletic couple; instead one has clearly submitted to the other. You know from conversations with him that Seonghwa likes being taken like this, or at least has always liked the idea of it. He'd told you many times how he'd never really had any partners he trusted enough to go there with, but that he wished he could. You feel strangely proud of him, as you realize he'd had to have a difficult conversation with Hongjoong to make this happen.

"Yunho, stop," you say, tugging on his arm to pull him into the library with you.

"You saw what I saw, right?" he asks, his voice still low but sounding mildly concerned.

"Yeah, why?" you ask, seeing his hoodie on the corner of the pull out couch and making a bee line for it.

"You just, don't seem concerned," he says.

"Why would I be concerned?" you ask, your eyebrows knitted together. You really don't know why he'd have a problem with the two of them being together, but suddenly you worry there's something about Yunho that you didn't know.

"Hongjoong was being so aggressive with him," he says, voice even softer.

"Oh, Yunho, he-" you cut yourself off, not wanting to overshare. You're so thankful he doesn't have a problem with them for any other reason. "It's not really my place to share but, let's just say I know he likes that. I'm sure he asked for it."

"Well, I guess that makes a lot of sense," he laughs, his relief palpable. You cock your head to the side, looking confused. "Oh you know what I mean," he continues. "Hwa is so professional, pretty, put together all the time. Of course he likes being taken like a whore."

"Yunho, what the fuck," you say, shoving your face in his hoodie to try to cover up your laugh. You can't help finding what he said hilarious, and his read of Seonghwa is completely spot on. But you can't believe the words actually left his lips. "How can you say that about him?"

"You're the one who was standing and watching them for what, five whole minutes? I waited a while to come and check on you," he says, staring you down as you finally put on his hoodie, your hair a mess under the hood.

"God, please don't tell anyone," you groan into your hands. "It's weird, I know, I'm sorry. I just, they seem very compatible, and I'm happy Hwa has found someone like that. I don't know."

"It's not weird, I know you like watching that kind of stuff," he replies.

"I do not, what are you talking about?" you reply, your cheeks feeling warm again.

"Ok I know it's only one example, but remember our school trip senior year? When those people in the hotel across the street were fucking and they left their curtains wide open? You couldn't stop staring."

"I'm never living that down," you sigh.

"There's nothing wrong with doing that, at least I don't think so. If people are fucking in public then they know someone might see. They probably even like the idea," he says, chuckling.

"I'm not a big pervert who reads smut all the time and likes watching people fuck," you pout, hitting him on the arm.

"I know," he murmurs, pulling you into a hug. "I'd still love you if you were, though."

Love. Your heart stops at the word for a moment, and you don't know why. You'd said it to each other thousands, probably tens of thousands of times in the ten years you'd known him. But now it's making you feel like your heart has fallen into your stomach, and you might puke it up. You sag against Yunho, pains wracking through you again. You almost feel relief, at realizing the feeling was just your cramps.

"I don't feel good," you groan into his chest.

"I know, I could tell," he says, rubbing a hand along your back.

"How?" you ask, tensing in anticipation of his answer.

"Cause you're being kind of weird with me today," he sighs out, hugging you even more tightly.

"I'm sorry," you say, having known it would be his answer. It was the thing him and Seonghwa had helped you realize; no matter how much you could hide the physical symptoms of anything, the changes in your personality were always there when you weren't feeling well. And those two, knowing you as well as they did, always picked up on it.

"Do you want to go back out there? Or stay in here?" he asks you.

"I just want to lay in here for a bit, by myself," you say, not wanting to expose him any longer to your sour mood. "I'll come out for dinner, can you let me know when everyone's eating?"

"Of course," he says, lifting you up and placing you on your bed. In the comfort of the library everything feels so intimate, and you tug him down to come lay with you too, for just a second. Wrapped around each other you both sigh, Yunho nuzzling his face into your neck and leaving a gentle kiss. He feels overcome with concern, his heart wanting to stay next to you like this, forever. But you'd said you wanted to lay by yourself. He pulls himself up, tightening the strings of his hoodie slightly and pulling your blanket over your shoulders. As he leaves he walks gently, trying not to make any sound. In the hallway he glances briefly out the window, to see Seonghwa smiling, him and Hongjoong cuddled up together in a gentle embrace.

***

Dinner passes in a blur, your entire body feeling achey and your head starting to hurt. You'd taken your pills, drank water; there was nothing else you could do. When Yunho came to get you you'd almost declined, almost asked him to bring you food in bed. Your bleeding was definitely slowing down, but your body was feeling weaker today, and your mind was all over the place. Throughout dinner you felt like you might start crying at the smallest thing, and you clung onto Seonghwa to keep yourself from doing so. Everyone could tell you weren't feeling well, Yunho and Seonghwa rubbing your back as you sat cross legged at the large coffee table in the living room, slowly sipping at your soup. When Wooyoung brought you the bowl he had leaned down to hug you, seeing just how out of it you were.

"You don't have to stay out here with us if you don't feel well," Seonghwa said, running his hand through your hair. You leaned against him, slowly blinking to try and calm yourself.

"I don't think I can walk right now," you said, your legs hurting terribly.

"I can carry you," Yunho piped up, downing his last bite of food. "Do you want to go lay down again?"

You nodded your head, the light in the room feeling too bright despite how dim it was. You bring your hands up to cover your eyes.

"Ok, let me clean up our dishes and I'll take you to your bed," he said, standing up with your bowl and his plate in hand. When he returned he gently grabbed your hands, moving them around to the back of his neck, and then moving your legs out in front of you, scooped you up in one fluid motion. You rest your head on his chest, burying your face into his hoodie that you're still wearing.

"Feel better, we love you," Ari said, a twinkle in her eye as she watched Yunho carrying you from the room.

"I love you too," you respond weakly. You feel yourself fading, but suddenly your teeth feel too gross to sleep. "Wait, I need to brush my teeth," you tell Yunho, groaning in frustration.

"Okay, no worries," he says, his voice gentle. He walks you to the bathroom and sets you down on the toilet seat, prepping your toothbrush for you, then helps you stand to spit everything out when you're done. "Wait, I need to pee," you say, holding onto his arm tightly. He helps you sit down again, helps take off your pants and panties. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry you have to help me like this," you say, your words nearly slurring together. You're really sounding out of it, and he feels himself in that space he gets in, when you're so broken down and he's the one there to comfort you.

"Shh, it's okay," he says, brushing a tear that fell down your cheek.

"No it's not, I'm a fucking mess," you continue, more tears starting to fall. "Why can't I figure out my damn body, why does it always catch me so off guard? It must be so weird living with me," you cry, everything tumbling out in waves.

"Y/n, listen to me. Everything is okay, I'm gonna get you to bed and you'll feel better tomorrow, I promise. You are not weird to live with, you're wonderful to live with. Are you hearing me?" he asks, moving your face up to make eye contact with him. "How did I get so lucky to know you?"

His kind words only make you cry harder, and you can't stop even as you get up from the toilet and try to steady yourself. He opens the door and picks you up again, carrying you finally to your bed to lay down. In bed your body feels heavy, like you're made of lead. You haven't felt this tired in a while, and you think sleep might envelop you immediately. But the pain radiating down your thighs and up through your stomach is too bad, and you toss and turn, unable to relax as Yunho readies himself for bed.

"Y/n, what do you need?" he asks, seeing your constant movements and pained expression.

"My legs to stop hurting," you mumble. Without even opening your eyes you raise your arms out to grab at him, even though he isn't right there. Your body is moving desperately again, and something about being with him in this room makes you loose all inhibitions. "Please make them stop hurting Yuyu," you plead.

"What would help, baby?" he asks, his body feeling electric. He moves over so you can grab him; he'll follow any request you have, do anything for you.

"Touch me, again, please," you beg, your thighs and pussy aching. Yunho again grabs a towel for you, gently placing it down on your bed and smoothing it out, lifting your hips to move you onto it. You keep making little sounds of desperation, unable to stop yourself. 'I know, I know, just relax baby,' he whispers to you, watching the way your face softens at the pet name. Soon your lower half is entirely naked, and he's massaging your legs, gently brushing past your cunt a few times, making you mewl from neediness. He wants to make you feel better but he also likes seeing you like this, likes hearing you beg for him. He wasn't prepared last night for what it did to him, and he thinks he's probably already addicted to that feeling.

Finally he slowly pushes a finger in, making you moan and sigh, the relief instant. Your reaching out to pull at his face, pulling him in to kiss him hard, your breath mixing as you open your mouth to slide your tongue across his. You moan at the feeling, his tongue wet and hot, making your clit throb. 'More,' you plead, your body feeling even more opened up than the previous night, even more ready to take everything he can give. He slowly adds a second digit, not wanting to hurt you, but he can tell your desperation is high and you're needing to be well and truly fucked. 'More, more,' you almost cry, your cunt clenching hard onto his long fingers, your hips rocking to match his movements. He inserts another finger, moving slowly again as to not hurt you. Desperately you claw at his back, hands reaching underneath his shirt, leaving marks in their wake. Yunho groans at the feeling, his own cock throbbing at how needy and wet you are. 'Faster, please,' you beg. The little sounds you let out are making him harder and harder; he starts rubbing himself against your leg as he fucks you with his fingers, his cock so hard it's starting to feel like torture.

"More, please Yuyu," you beg again, tears forming in your eyes from how good it all feels.

"More fingers? You feel so tight baby," he asks you, barely able to move his hand with how hard you're clenching down on him.

"No, need you inside me," you babble, feeling how hard he is against your leg. Yunho slows his movements a bit, propping himself up on his elbow to talk to you. He wants nothing more than to fuck you right then, but there's just one problem.

"Baby, I didn't bring any condoms with me," he huffs out, his frustration obvious.

"You should have," you whine, turning your face away from him but still moving your hips against his hand.

"How was I supposed to know this was gonna happen?" he asks, laughing.

You just whine again, eyes even more teary now at the thought that you might not get what you want, and you move your hands up to cover your face. Yunho stops his movements when he sees your disappointed face, sitting himself up to look down at you. He takes his free hand and gently brushes a hair out of your face.

"You really need me to fuck you right now?" he asks, earnestly. You nod your head, looking at him through the gaps between your fingers, your lips in a pout. Yunho groans and throws his head back, your sweet and needy face making him want to do every dirty thing he can think of. "Okay, I'll be right back," he says, slowly pulling out of you. You whine in disappointment, your pussy feeling devastatingly empty. "Just sit tight for a few minutes, I'll be right back," he says, kissing your forehead.

After cleaning off his hand Yunho walks through the cabin, trying hard to go unnoticed as he passes through the living room to the master bedroom. Everyone still seems to be awake except Hongjoong and Seonghwa who lay cuddled on a couch together; Wooyoung and his cousin Yeosang are playing what appears to be a very heated card game of some kind, while the other boys watch or scroll their phones, everyone clearly winding down for the night. He's thankful to not see Ari or San present; they must be in their bedroom as he'd hoped. His heart races from how potentially awkward this interaction could be, but he feels like he's on autopilot and there's no possibility of turning back. Not when you had begged him like that, and looked at him the way you did. There was no way he wouldn't find some sort of solution to his problem.

He knocks on the door gently, hoping he's not disturbing a private moment between the two.

"Yeah?" he hears Ari ask, sounding sleepy.

"It's Yunho, can I come in for just a sec?" he asks, trying to sound casual. He doesn't want to raise any alarm bells for them, or for any of the boys in the living room who might be overhearing. And if it had just been Ari, or one of the other friends he'd known for so long it might not feel too awkward. But there are three new people on the trip this year, and he isn't sure how comfortable they would be.

"Yeah, come in," she responds. Yunho turns the door handle slowly, hoping to avoid making any loud noise. Slowly pushing open the door, he spots San in the chair in the corner, reading over something on his laptop in front of him.

"Hey, sorry this is, well, random. Do you guys happen to have a, uh, condom I could borrow?" He spits it out, not wanting to waste a second.

"Oh, yeah, uh, let me see what I've got," San replies, closing his laptop and setting it on the bed before unzipping a small pocket in his suitcase. "Here just take this box, I brought two with me," he responds.

"Are you sure?" Yunho asks. He's frankly taken aback by how casual San is being about this, and by his generosity on top of it all.

"Yeah, of course. I've got plenty and I'm glad you're asking. It's always better to be safe," he responds, a genuine smile on his face.

"Be careful with her," Ari adds, unable to stop herself. "She's very fragile."

"I'm not going to hurt her, you know that," he replies, looking at her almost coldly. He feels slightly offended at the idea that she thinks it's a possibility, after all of the years she'd known him, seen him taking care of you.

"I know. I just had to say it, she needs all the protecting she can get," she says, remembering the state you were in during dinner. "I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm- I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to ask us," she finishes, hoping she didn't cross some sort of line with him.

"She's very capable of asking for what she needs," Yunho replies, wanting to stick up for you. But his face is soft, he isn't mad.

"Which is, that?" Ari gestures at the box of condoms in his hand, trying to hold back laughter.

"Okay, that's enough," Yunho laughs, looking away from her towards the door. "Thank you both, sorry if I made that weird."

Out the door he makes his way through the living room, trying to hide the box under the hem of his shirt. Mingi is the only one who glances up to see him, registering the shape of the box underneath his shirt. He's pretty sure he knows what it is, and he smirks to himself, too tired to say anything about it. But he's happy his friend is finally getting what he's wanted.

"I'm back," Yunho whispers when he reenters the room, your face and body awash in the gentle white light from the moon. He makes quick work of opening the box, removing one condom and throwing it on the bed. In a second he's on you, peppering your face with kisses, moving his hands underneath your shirt to pull it off.

"I'm so bloated," you say, breathless.

"I need to see you," he responds, not giving you any room to keep talking about yourself that way. You tug on his shirt as well and he reaches up, pulling it off and throwing it on the floor. In the moonlight he looks pale, his long torso perfectly shaped and beautifully lean. You bring a hand up to stroke along his stomach, feeling the strong muscles underneath his skin, brushing across a small happy trail going down from his belly button into his pants. You tug on his pants too, your neediness having only grown in the few minutes he was gone. The idea of laying stark naked in front of anyone, especially in your bloated, sickly state would normally make you shudder, but in this moment you feel free, ready to take anything. He moves down to kiss you again, passionately, his tongue forcing you to open your mouth wide, his hands possessively grabbing you. Him kissing down your neck has you moaning, nearly writhing underneath him. He moves up to whisper to you, biting your earlobe gently and making you moan louder.

"You're so perfect," he whispers, the words cascading down you like a soft warm rain, any worry you had completely melting away. You tug at his pants again, helping him move them down and finally, completely off. Quickly he rolls on the condom; carefully he lines himself up with your entrance, moving his stiff cock up and down our slit, already feeling how warm and wet and ready you are. Finally he presses in, achingly slowly, until he's fully seated inside of you, the muscles of your cunt being deliciously stretched in a way they never have before.

He's big to be sure, clearly just the perfect size, stretching you just the way your body needed. Slowly he pulls out, then soothingly pushes himself back in, his cock hitting every perfect place inside you. Your mouth falls open at the feeling; you've never felt so full, so complete. He moves a hand down to your hip, anchoring himself so he can start a slow rhythm, his head buzzing with how good it all feels.

"Baby, you're so tight, fuck," he says as he tries to find a consistent pace. "Does that feel good?" he asks, eyes not leaving your face.

"Yes, yes, fuck, Yunho," you mumble, not able to form a coherent sentence.

"Relax for me then, you're so tight I can barely move," he says, trying to find the perfect angle to make your body completely give in. Quickly he readjusts himself, moving his knee to lower his angle, adding more strength to his movement. You moan, clearly feeling even better than before, so he knows he needs to lower the angle even more. "Baby, lift your hips for me," he says, grabbing a pillow from beside you to move underneath your lower back. Once you're situated he kisses you again, acutely aware of just how surrendered you are to him, words no longer forming on your lips. Slowly he adjusts his knee again, his hand still on your hip anchoring you, and he begins fucking you again from his new angle.

The immense pleasure is immediate, your back arching and your head rolling back, your moans so loud you're probably being heard throughout the rest of the cabin. But Yunho doesn't care, he's not thinking about that. All he's thinking about is the way he feels your pussy pull him in even more, your hips and thighs finally relaxing some, your whole body reacting to his change in movement.

"Shit, there you go," he praises you, feeling your legs wrap around his back, pulling him in. He's been so careful with you, so focused on not hurting you, but he can tell you need more, so he starts fucking you harder, his face nuzzling in your hair to take in everything he loves about you. He can feel the muscles of your pussy start to clench again, but it's different this time; the flutter against his cock drives him crazy, making him thrust into you even harder. Soon he feels the muscles clenching hard, your moans reaching their peak, your hands a vice grip on his arm and back.

"Good girl, let yourself come," he coos, holding you as close to him as he can, kissing your cheek and nose. It's the most heated moment, he feels himself about to come undone too, but suddenly he's overcome with fondness, a warmth flowing through his chest, making him feel emotional.

"Fuck, I love you." The words tumble out of him without warning and your own chest warms, just as your orgasm starts blooming through you, your legs shaking as Yunho continues to fuck you. You're moaning and mewling, unable to say a single actual word, but you wish you could tell him just how perfect everything is, how you haven't came like that, ever. In the heat of the moment everything felt right, and to hear him say something so sweet just as you reached your climax made it all feel even better. His tight grip on you, the way he's nuzzled into your body, it makes you feel safe and grounded and so fucking horny.

Yunho comes just after you do, his thrusts becoming inconsistent, his body going taught and then absolutely limp on top of you. You both breath deeply, your chests heaving in the quiet coolness of the room. You wish you could bottle this feeling, the way your body is limp and buzzing with pleasure, his weight on top of you making your usually busy brain filled with nothing but the feeling of him. It feels peaceful, almost spiritual. You both rest for a few minutes, not moving a muscle, except when Yunho reaches over finally to kiss you again, making you giggle.

"How are you feeling?' he asks, still not daring to move.

"So good," you slur out, a dopey smile spreading across your face.

"Good," he replies, wrapping himself around you like he loves to do. "Can I pull out of you?" he asks.

"Mhmm," you respond, moving your legs to allow him to move. He cleans you up and helps you redress, stopping every few seconds to kiss you again, tickling you too when he realizes you're in the mood for it. It takes a while for you to come back to yourself, your mind so foggy from everything that had happened. But finally, once he'd gotten you both totally ready for sleep and wrapped himself up behind you, you found you could actually speak.

"I love you too," you whisper, squeezing his hand that rests on your belly. He just cuddles you closer, letting out a huge sigh of relief.

[gay-dorito-dust]

hey hey, was wondering if you could do a headcannon for jason and dick when their s/o is sick cause im sick as hell rn and need some comfort <3

I hope you get better anon and I also hope that this gives you something to chuckle at in the meantime.

Jason:

He’s like a mother hen when your sick and it wouldn’t been funny…had you not been sick and forcibly bed bound by him.

‘Jason.’ You groaned. ‘I’m dying.’

Jason looks at you blankly. ‘Hi dying I’m Jason, now take your god damn medicine.’

He takes your recovery more seriously and makes sure that you take your medicine on time when they were needed. And if you were to make things difficult for yourself, he will straddle you if needs be just for you to take medicine that you were upset wasn’t grape flavoured…

Will tuck the blankets right under your chin if you’re feeling cold and if you were still feeling cold, he’ll offer you one of his warmer hoodies to wear in hopes that they’d stop.

He honestly can’t either you sometimes but has to remember that he loves you and that he’d stick by you no matter what, even if you do act like an outraged child when sick.

God sake do not ask him to get you ice cream when you’re sick, he will forbade you from eating that crap. You’re meant to be getting better, not worse.

He even makes you a nice warm soup amongst other foods to help you during your recovery process also.

Jason may seem strict in his methods in taking care of you but he means well and will apologise if he thinks he’s been a bit too much of a dick by sitting bedside and holding your hand, kissing it every so often.

‘I’m sorry if it seems like I’m being harsh chipmunk, I’m only trying to help.’ He’d say.

‘If you’re being sorry for being a dick, then it’s only fair that I say sorry for acting so childish when you’re only trying to help. And I really appreciate you for everything you’ve done for me.’ You’d reply as you both let out a chuckle before you allowed Jason to take care of you without any complaints to be made.

You get better by the end of the week and Jason spoils you by letting you have all the ice cream you could dream of, but please for his sake don’t eat it too fast and get brain freeze.

Dick:

Will let you eat ice cream because how can he say no to your sad, sick face.

Even when sick Dick spoils the hell out of you.

Does not make the situation any better in all honesty.

He’ll probably take more offence that you were sick than yourself as he takes your temperature and tutting.

‘38°?’ Dick says as he looks down at the thermometer and muttering under his breath, ‘Not good.’

You only look at him blankly before sniffling as you cling to your plush frog, unamused. ‘I hate you.’

He’d might even get Hayley to help ‘heal’ you by just letter her be her cutest self and not currently crushing your legs, seeing as how she’s not a little blue pup anymore. she’s yours and Dick’s baby however and you didn’t care because seeing her try to nurse you back to health with her licking never failed to put a smile on your face.

‘Thank you sweetheart Im beginning to feel much better.’ You say as Hayley continued aggressively licking your arms, hands and face.

If you were to tell dick you were cold/still cold, his immediate response was the cuddle you but when you stop him to remind him that your sick, he only shrugs and probably boasts that he’s got great immunity before cuddling you. (Lies utter lies)

Let’s be honest he probably ends up getting sick after you start to recover and demands for you to repay him for taking care of you.

dick is okay at making food but might mutter ‘this isn’t the way it looked when Alfred made it’ under his breath while making you some simple soup before consulting Hayley, who only whimpers and shies away from it.

‘Take out it is then.’ He’d say and tries to take credit for it once it comes, but you see through the bullshit but we’re too sick to say anything about it.

[realisticjupiter]

haihaii!! your profile has been like.... THERAPY to me bc the aib fixation is back AND ITS STRONG ESPECIALLY TOWARDS CHISHIYA 💔💔💔 i love the way u write as well !!

so with this could i request a touch starved chishiya... like a chishiya that needs readers attention so bad but is too embarrassed to downright tell them "I WANT CUDDLES" or smth... still he does everything in his power to get readers attention atp the only thing left is to just BEG

also could i be 🎶 anon ? i picture myself being very active here from now on... have a nice day!!

Summary: Chishiya can't sleep without you.

Genre: Fluffy

Pairing: Chishiya x gn!reader

Warnings: None! :)

Word count: 784

a/n: Aghhhh i hope this is okay!!!!! That is actually so sweet of you, I'm so glad you've liked my account!!!<3 And ofc you can claim an emoji, hello 🎶!!

Chishiya tried everything to get you into bed with him. He tried seducing you, gaslighting you, and of course his manipulation tactics didn't work either.

All you were focused on was trying to fix the phone from last night's game. It was still on, so you thought it would be easier to get into before it powered off.

Every time he'd call your name, you'd brush him off. Mostly because he always used a certain tone of voice you've become far too familiar with when he tries to get what he wants.

All he wanted to do was kneel at your feet to tell you exactly what he wanted. To tell you he just wanted you to hold him, to tell you all he needed was your attention.

But he couldn't. He never has been able to ask for help, or ask for anything without feeling vulnerable for that matter. He was closed off, that's what people knew about him; that he didn't show those types of emotions in fear of being belittled.

Chishiya could feel his eyelids getting heavy and his eyes burning from keeping them open, but he knew no matter how hard he would toss and turn; he wouldn't be able to sleep without you.

It was pathetic, he'd admit that. It was a loop he found himself getting stuck into, and found there was no way out of it. He hid it pretty well, though. Through late nights where you'd fall asleep alone and wake up to him beside you. You truly had no idea he struggled so much.

He was so tired. He'd do anything if you'd just stop and sleep already.

And he found his last option, the one thing he dreaded the most.

"Y/n?" Chishiya whispered, his voice husky as he climbed out of bed and walked towards you with slow steps.

"What?" You hummed in response, never peeling your eyes away from the task at hand.

"Please," He spoke underneath his breath in an almost incoherent whisper as he stopped to stand beside the chair you sat in.

"I don't know what you want, Chishiya. No one is keeping you awake." You sighed, watching from the corner of your eye as he stood by your side, rubbing his eyes with his palms.

"You're keeping me awake." He murmured, watching your hands as they played around with the device's motherboard.

"How?" You said in defeat, finally turning your attention to him. You looked up at him with your hands thrown in your lap, clearly waiting for his response.

He let out a huff as he looked around the room; avoiding eye contact. When he finally looked at you, his eyes were soft and glassed over.

His next sentence was incoherent.

"What?"

[inaudible]

"Chishiya. Speak up, please." Your words were soft as you stood up from your seat, placing your hands on his upper arms.

"I can't sleep without you." He finally spoke, his words finally registering in your mind.

When he realized you had finally heard him, he felt like he could say anything. And with his new found confidence he continued to speak.

"Why is it so hard to ask you to touch me?" He breathed, letting his head fall onto your shoulder.

You smiled at his soft demeanour. You knew how hard it must've been for him to admit something so close to himself, especially since it was about you. You've found a new side of Chishiya you haven't seen before.

You brought a hand to comb through his hair as the other scratched up and down his bare back, "I'm sorry, Chishiya. I should've just read your mind." You whispered against his shoulder as you held him close to your body.

Your words were an obvious tease, trying to humor the situation at hand. Which did make Chishiya snicker.

"You should have. You've always been able to." He muttered, wrapping his arms lazily around you.

You smiled warmly as he spoke, pulling away to drag his hand towards the bed. You climbed in with him closely behind you. He waited for you to get comfortable, before he joined you under the covers to tangle his limbs with yours.

"I'm proud of you, Chishiya." Your sultry breath hit his forehead as you mumbled against his skin.

He stared down at the way your bodies fit together, processing your words with a smile he knew you couldn't see.

"Now go to sleep, 'm here." You spoke once more into his skin, kissing his forehead and massaging your fingers into his scalp.

His cold fingers danced around your bare skin, trying to bring himself impossibly closer to you before his body fell limp into a night's sleep.

reposts and comments are appreciated <3

[bradleybeachbabe]

Ok so there is a serious shortage of Tim Bradford stuff on tumblr and the gasp i gusped when i saw you were taking requests was very big.

So how about him being his usual hard and grumpy self and his pregnant wife coming to the station angry about something and him turning into a big softie. Like she’s almost scolding him about something and the others staring like ‚who is this man?‘. Obviously Angela knows what’s up but the rookie are like 🫨

Thanks so much!!💗

here you go anon <3 hope i did you justice on this! also i really enjoyed writing this!

warnings: pregnancy, not beta read

a/n: i haven’t posted in blurbs in forever, so please bare with me on this!

you have been angry at the slightest things lately, whether it being how hot it is outside, not being able to put on your shoes, not having your favorite ice cream in your freezer, etc. the list could go on, and yet it could be to the fact that you’re seven months and half pregnant, because ever since you entered your third trimester the slightest things have been making you angry. and now you’re even angrier than you have been throughout your third trimester, and it’s all because the air conditioning has decided to stop working in your house, so with that being said you have decided to head down to the station to tell tim, your husband, all about it.

when you arrived at the station, you were lucky enough that you didn’t have to wait in the front lobby of the station for tim to come out and talk to you. the officer who was working at the front desk knew who you were, so you were able to just go to the back where all of the officers’ desks are, to find tim.

when you entered the back, you were lucky enough to find tim sitting at his desk, talking to angela about whatever. when you were walking over to where his desk was, angela spotted you.

“looks like you got some company,” angela nodded her head toward your direction.

tim turned his head and saw you waddling towards him.

“i’m gonna give you two some privacy,” angela said as she left tim’s desk and walked over to where john, lucy, and jackson were standing.

“who’s that?” jackson quipped when angela approached.

“tim’s wife, y/n,” angela answered.

“tim has a wife?” lucy, john, and jackson all asked at the time.

“yeah, they have been married for about three years now. and of course, they are now expecting their first baby in a few months.”

“wow, i did not know that,” lucy said.

“yeah, tim tends to keep his work and personal life separate,” angela said.

“hmm…now i’m wondering why she showed up to talk to tim,” lucy said.

“honestly, whatever it is, it’s gonna look good on his end,” angela smirked as she took a sip of her coffee.

“what are you doing here?” tim asked with a confused tone when you approached his desk. “is everything okay? is the baby okay?” he added.

“no, everything is not okay. the bright side is, that the baby is okay.”

“well, what’s wrong then?” tim asked.

“what’s wrong is that the air conditioning has stopped working at the house, and now i’m super hot, sweaty, i'm upset, and especially angry because of that,” you explained.

tim just looked at you with soft eyes. he felt bad for you. he hated seeing you angry and upset. he knew how irritated you could get whenever you’re hot.

“i can try and fix it when i get home later today,” tim stated.

“what time will you be home?” you questioned him.

“maybe around five, it all just depends if i can get all this paperwork done before that time.”

“oh,” you frowned.

tim sighed, “you want me to leave work right now, so then i can fix the air conditioning? don’t you?”

“please.”

you already knew what tim’s answer was gonna be. he wasn’t gonna, ‘no’ or anything like that. plus, if he did, most likely he would end up sleeping on the couch for the night.

“okay, i’ll leave right now,” tim said. “let me go inform sergeant grey that i’m gonna leave early.”

tim got up from his seat at his desk to head to sergeant grey office. and when he did get up, he quickly kissed your temple, and quickly laid one of his hands on your bump, before he walked off.

while you were waiting for tim to get back from sergeant grey’s office, you saw out of the corner of your eye, angela and by the looks of it, three rookies standing with her. the three rookies had shocking looks on their faces while angela couldn’t help herself from smirking. you already knew why angela had that smirk on her face. she already knew that tim has a huge soft side, and that soft side is only reserved for you, and your baby who is gonna be born in a few months. on the other hand, the rookies didn’t know tim’s soft side at all, so of course all of them had shocking looks on their faces.

“sergeant grey is okay with me going home early today,” tim said as he approached you.

“did he ask why you’re going home early today?”

“yes,” tim nodded his head.

“did he think your reason for leaving early was kinda odd and crazy,” you asked.

“yeah,” tim nodded. “but luckily he isn’t giving me a hard time about this,” he added.

“well, that’s good then.”

tim turned off his computer and pushed his desk car in, and you two walked out hand in hand with each other.

“told ya,” angela said as she walked off. while lucy, john, and jackson were still standing there with shocking looks on their faces, trying to gather the pieces together that tim has a soft side.

blurb night!

[n30nwrites]

hiya neon <3

How you been ? ໒꒰ྀི ˶• ༝ •˶ ꒱ྀི১₊˚⊹♡

hope you're having a good day ~ ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

Anyways, can you write something fluffy about poly!141 and male reader

Just...cuddle piles bro...hhfjsjsk

-- 🪸anon

Like Real People Do (Poly!141 x Male Reader)

Sorry this wasn't long, a lot has happened in my life lol.

I've been okay, everything is turning up.

I debated on doing more but if It did it would've turned to angst so.

You were always tired, work didn't have to be stressful and you would still be tired. You think it had to do with interacting people, just talking could make you tired.

The only thing that could make it better, were the people that greeted you at your home.

Gaz is cooking. The smell swallows you and your stomach turns, growling for the food. You can tell its Gaz simply because of the smell of seasoning, something you were still helping the other three boys on. Soap and Ghost either did Microwavable dinners or take out, and Price thought that the only seasoning he should use is salt and pepper.

He's such an old man.

Your knees ached, as did your ankles and back. It was usually hurting, but you never got it checked out, didn't consider it important too.

The solo mission lasted 3 months, you know they had each other for company and some part of you questioned if they really needed you. If they could last without you for 3 months, what's the rest of their life?

Then Soap opens the door and grabs you like his life depends on it, and all that doubt disappears. He holds you, his arms wrapped around tight and your bag of items drops to reciprocate the hug. He feels like home.

They are home.

You attempt to let go and take a step forward but he still holds on, and you kind of just awkwardly shuffle into the door.

Ghost calls out your name and announces you're home. Price comes through the door wearing your favorite pair of sweatpants (that looked so good on him) and a tanktop, Ghost is in similar wear, and you could take a guest that they just stayed home all day.

"Soap you gotta let him go at one point." Soap is buried in your chest, pushing himself further so his words come out mumbled. "What is Gaz cooking?"

"How do you know it's Gaz cooking?" Price asks.

"Cause I can smell how good it is, you left the window open." You tell him which causes Ghost to go over and shut it, locking it as well.

"He's making some rogan josh-"

"Oh god..." You moaned, most of the food you ate was dry crackers (that tasted like cardboard) and some bad lasagna. You had always loved food, that was one downfall to being the governments rat. "God I'm starving."

"Thankfully you're home just in time." Gaz comes in wearing the stupid apron you got him, it's pink and frilly, a stupid gift because that was just the tradition on Christmas. Soap had gotten you a shirt that said 'Don't Bully Me I'll Cum :(' on it, which unironically became your favorite. You got Simon a shirt that said 'I Identify as an American Patriot and this is my Pride Flag' which the Brit hated but everyone else had a great time.

"Tell me you have naan."

He did

----

You ate like you hadn't before, the dinner was delicious and it brought you all to the bedroom to rest like never before.

You laid against the pillows set up on the wall, Gaz was laying in between your legs and on your chest, Price was laying on your right side, his head resting on your shoulder as Ghost laid on the opposite with Soap on top of him, though with the way Soap was laying, he was on top of everyone. Soap was holding your hand as you rested your head on Ghost, the tv is playing a show called The Maid, it was interesting so far, you were going in and out of focus on it, more focus on your boyfriends next to you.

Eventually husbands, hopefully.

You took a glance to the side where the bedtable sat. You each got a drawer for your stuff, and in yours were five rings that took 5 paychecks to get. You were just waiting.

There would be a right time.

Soap's loud snores fill the air, and you laugh a little at how sudden it is, as does Ghost. The bed was crowded but none of you cared, it was perfect.

They were perfect.

"I love you guys." You mumble, and Price leans over to you, causing you to turn your head and kisses you. It's soft, not leading to anything and it's not holding expectations, it's warm and soft and everything to you. And when he stops, you just smile, because this was it.

[typing-catastrophe]

could you write a stanford pines x reader headcanon where the reader is an artist and always draws him and draws in his journals when he isnt looking? maybe he talks to the reader about the drawings and they get really flustered i dunno!!! <3

oohhh! yeesss, that's a great idea! thank you anon ^^ hope this is okay, enjoy!

1.2k words --------------------------------------------------

Your little habit started out even before Stanford came back. Dipper saw you sketching in your notebook from time to time, and asked you to draw something for him in the journal. He handed it to you and pointed next to a text he'd written about some anomaly (maybe a Manotaur or the Pterodactyl). First you were unsure, how would you feel if someone randomly decided to draw in your sketchbook? But it actually seemed really fun, an you didn't want to disappoint Dipper. Also it was in the spirit of research and preserving observations. And honestly, what were the odds the mysterious author would ever show up again?

With that attitude you began, whenever you got the chance to, to doodle yours and the twins encounters with the countless strange phenomena in gravity falls into the journal.

Well, oops? Seemed like the universe decided that not long after you started doing so, it was the right time for the author to come back.

It wasn't a big deal really, Dipper kept the journal for most of the time and Ford told him that he liked the additions he made. You weren't sure if he only meant the notes Dipper added, or if he even knew that someone else drew the newly added creatures.

It didn't take long for you and Ford to get to know each other better and spend more time together. Literally everything about him was just so fascinating. From the way he talked about his dimensional travels, anomaly hunts and research, his interest in a shared hobby of yours (dd&md), to the way he held himself. And, even if you were a bit embarrassed to admit it, his looks.

You couldn't help it, he was captivating. So to no surprise, one day you found yourself sitting the shack's porch, looking over at Ford standing in the yard, working away at something that was too bulky for the basement. You didn't even realise what you were doing, until something startled you out of your thoughts and you looked down at your sketchbook, seeing a familiar figure on the open page.

And then it happened again, in the lab. He was explaining away, deeply invested in whatever topic he was rambling about, not really taking in his surroundings. You had started out just sketching his study, but somehow he turned out to be the main focus of it.

One evening you found yourself in the living room of the shack. Ford was sitting on the floor, which was almost entirely covered in graph paper. You had joined him while he prepared the next campaign session, the tv quietly proving some background noise. While he was franticly scribbling away sheet after sheet, you propped open your notebook and began sketching some of the characters that came to your mind. Ford's, Dipper's and your characters and some npcs you encountered on your travels. But looming over all of them, half hidden behind the dm-screen, the scheming face of the man before you took his shape.

The end of the evening was rather blurry, you remembered falling asleep on the floor and being carried to bed, half asleep in someone's arms.

"hmm thank you", is all you could mumble when you felt the soft pillow under your head.

"No problem, dear", you heard a deep voice chuckle.

-

When you thought about it the next morning, a smile crept unto your face and you kinda wished, you would've been more awake, so you could've enjoyed the moment properly.

The smiled was quickly wiped off though, when you realised that you must've left your sketchbook in the living room, given that Ford probably didn't bring it with him last night. You panicked and jumped out of bed, stumbling to the door when your gaze was caught by something. Your sketchbook, laying on your desk. You exhaled, glad it didn't lay around for anyone to see. You took it into your hands and opened it to the last page you were working on. But instead of the drawing from yesterday evening, only the one before that stared back at you. Confused, you turned the pages a few times, examined it, maybe someone ripped it out? No, no remnants of a torn out page....

Then, it dawned on you. You left your notebook in your room yesterday. You didn't plan on staying or even going to the living room. God knows how you ended up there, but it definitely was without your sketchbook. Which could only mean one thing...

In record time you were out the door, down the hall and in the living room. Right in time to take in the scenery of Ford staring down at his campaign notebook, opened to the page of your drawing.

"Ahh!! No no don't look!", you jumped forward and put your hands over the drawing. Ford furrowed his eyebrows, looking quite puzzled.

"This? Oh I already saw it last night after getting you to bed. It is incredible!"

Your cheeks heated up. "Oh" was all you could utter.

"It was also you who added the depictions of the twin's adventures, right?"

"Uhmm" You didn't keep your passion for drawing a secret, but you also didn't make a big deal out of it. And honestly, the way Ford was always so indulged in his own mind, you didn't think he was paying much attention to what you were doing. Now you felt a bit stupid for believing he wouldn't connect the - admittedly - obvious dots.

"They really are marvellous. And this?", he gestured to yesterdays page "Truly phenomenal!"

You didn't know what to say. You weren't even sure if you could say anything at all. All you felt was blood rushing to the tips of your ears and a flaming hot sensation in your cheeks.

"I- well uhm, thank you", you managed to stutter "I uh, I actually didn't mean to- uhm, use your campaign book. It was a mistake, I'm sorry."

"You've got to be joking! It's the perfect addition!" Ford exclaimed. "Do you mind if I keep it?"

"Oh", his enthusiasm caught you off guard. "I-, I guess not. Actually, that would mean a lot to me." you admitted sheepishly.

"Very well then! Thank you, dear." He looked at you with a fond expression.

You were about to retreat back to your room, turning around ready to leave, when Ford spoke up again, the smile apparent in his voice. "I also liked your artistic rendition of the twins adventures. Anything else you want to show me?" You froze.

Your heart started beating ridiculously fast. Did he knew? Did he notice you staring at him while drawing? Your thoughts started racing, but came to a sudden halt when he leaned down. His lips were almost touching your ear when he started to whisper.

"Maybe another time." And with that he walked by you, leaving you to yourself.

-------------------------------------------------- thank you for reading <3 reblogs are appreciated

a/n: if you want a second part with romance and/or where ford discovers the drawings of him, let me know! Have a nice day/night!

[fraugwinska]

If it’s okay, can you do Alastor x Reader where Alastor catches you relapsing after a fight with him? If it’s too much, you don’t have to do it. Just wanted some comfort for what I’m going through. You’re also a very good writer! Keep up the great work! xx

Hey anon - I hope you are doing well. I couldn't let this one sit too long in my inbox... Whatever you are going through: I hope this will help you with a bit of comfort. (I do hope I didn't misinterpret your ask...) I send you the biggest hug, my dearest! <3 TW:Self Harm,Depression,Angst - Minors DNI - 1.3k words

You were doing so well. So, so well.

Arguments with Alastor occurred from time to time, but you had done so well in not letting them become full-blown fights. His rationale and your restraint had always managed to hold the worst at bay and settle any troubles with a few deep breaths, calm words and a compromise. It was something you were hugely proud of, something you had never been able to do before, and with him - you finally seemed to manage.

But now, after a tirade of harsh words, hurtful remarks and slammed doors you are alone in your room, curled up in a bed that feels much too big and streaks of cold tears on your cheeks. Immediately after you stormed out Alastor's radio tower you regretted your tone, regretted what you said, the way you got irrationally upset and how you provoked him - just to hurt him. You were unfair, cruel even, and the worst part was you didn't mean a single thing you said in the heat of the argument. Of course, Alastor said some choice words to you too, nasty things said in cold calmness, but only in reaction to your emotionally charged onslaught. And it didn't change the fact that you had done him wrong, over a fucking triviality that spun out of control.

It doesn't change the fact that the feelings and thoughts you feared slowly return, thoughts of your inadequacy, your worthlessness, your shortcomings all coming back into your head in one big punch of guilt and insecurity. Spiraling, you feel yourself getting more and more tense, like a pressure cooker without a valve, ready to burst. Your chest hurts - no, everything hurts: Your chest, your arms, your head, your heart.

You had done so well.

But you are desperate, panicked - you've pushed the one person away that was able to ground you, the only one that could make you feel safe and strong enough to withstand this urge, this need to hurt, to release. You bury your nails in your thigh, but it is far from enough. He must hate you now, and could you blame him? No, no you couldn't, and you push yourself off the bed, almost frantic.

Release, release, release - where is it? The shame you hid when you first moved into the hotel, the valve you had used so often to momentarily drain yourself from this burdening pain, the tool you had to use because you weren't reborn in hell with the fortune of sharp talons.

The loose floorboard creaks under your erratic steps. Ah. There. Hidden under your feet, untouched for so long. You start to cry again as you kneel down, lifting the panel. You feel like a failure.

Sorry, I am so sorry, your head chants as you reach for it with trembling hands, please just let it be a little less, just a tiny, little...

"Darling..."

You freeze. His voice is quiet, tune- and toneless echoing from behind you. It sends a new shiver through your tense, quivering body. Your hand hovers over the small object but you can't move it away, eyes squeezed shut in defeat. Your brain races, thinking of anything to say but coming up empty.

"My sweetling, whatever you're looking for under there...", he continues slowly, softly, each step of his dressing shoes against the parquet resounding painfully loud in your ears. You're so mortified by him catching you in the act that the tight coil in you seems ready to snap. "...will not do you any good."

He halts when when he is next to you, kneeling down. You feel his shoulder brush your back as he lays a clawed hand on yours and gently pulls it away from the hole in the floor. Your shoulders begin to shake with ragged sobs and his tender touch on your cheek prompts you to tilt your head, face hot, and to look him into his eyes that seem both understanding and sad.

"Harming yourself will only make you hate yourself more than you regrettably already do."

You try to breathe, but fail miserably, choking on the air around you. How could you justify what you were about to do, how could you hurt him again like this, with this action, with this thoughts, after everything you both have worked for? You had done so well - Why didn't you have it more under control, like you should?

"I'm sorry, A-Alastor... I'm sorry, s-so sorry, please..."

He pulls you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a tight, steady embrace. One hand comes up, stroking your hair in tender movements, shushing you quietly as he lets you sob into his shoulder. The longer he holds you the easier it gets to draw deep breathes, until you finally manage to draw in the air that your body lacked so much. With each rise and fall of your chest, you feel a tiny bit of the panic fade, as if his soothing static draws it out in humble waves, soft and soothing around and inside you.

"I know, darling...", Alastor murmurs, kissing the top of your head and tightening his hold, "It's all long forgiven already."

A shattered sigh escapes you. How could he do all this for you? Accept you, with all the flaws and mistakes and shortcomings? How can he forgive you with such gentle ease? And still care for you, despite and including it all, why? How?

"Please don't hate me..."

He only loosens his grip when you stop trembling, carefully taking your chin between his claws, prompting you to break the chain of self-degrading thoughts and silencing the whispers in your head as he locks his eyes on yours.

"I could never, darling, even if I tried. But you need to understand: You are fighting the most vicious and cruel enemy there is, my love.", his face is void of the smirk he often wore, the one he doesn't use to tease or ridicule, or mock, it's his serious smile. The one he wears when he's about to be blunt. "Yourself."

A sudden rush of fresh tears cloud your vision. He's right, you know he is - you have always been your own worst enemy. Never giving yourself a fighting chance, the help and care you didn't feel you deserve. It felt so tiring, hopeless, in these moments where you fell victim to your weakness and turned it all onto yourself.

"I'm... so weak."

"We all have our battles. And this happens to be one you exhausted yourself to win on your own. However...", he offers you a sweet smile, taking your hand, "...it's a battle you don't have to fight alone anymore."

He takes your face into one of his large hands - the warmth of his palm is soothing against the rawed skin of your cold cheek as you instinctively lean into it, chasing the gentleness of the touch. The smile he gives you is more serious than you've ever seen before, and he lifts his other hand, waving his fingers for a split second in the corner of your eyes - the loose floorboard squeaks as it magically sets itself back into its place and seals itself with the flooring, eliminating the option of taking it off again. Alastor sighs, tilting his head to recapture your gaze.

"Whatever angry words are exchanged and however vexed we might be with each other... please, my love, let me hold you together in my arms when you threaten to fall apart like this."

How long he held you in his arms that night, settled in your bed instead of his as you usually did - you didn't know. How many soothing touches he planted on your body – you didn't count. All that mattered were the soft kisses that he pressed on your cheeks, the way he held your hand, fingers entwined with yours, and the soothing words he repeated to you, over and over like a mantra.

"You are doing well, my love."

[sagucpuppet]

painter x reader where they have both known eachother for a long time, reader goes to visit him (but having to obviously go through every door there lmao) and they hang out but for no reason, mid-conversation they lean over and kiss painters screen and continue talking like nothing happened and he's just overheating XD

(i love your painter work to death, please continue writing for him or it'll be my funeral tomorrow, please please please, keep writing it's amazing n beautiful PLEASE)

𓋜⠀⠀⠀i’d always knew i’d find you. <3⠀⠀⠀⠀⨟⠀⠀

ℓ⠀⠀⠀⠀₊⠀⠀⠀⠀extra: painter goes by he/him and reader goes by they/them.⠀⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⟢⠀⠀⠀⠀a/n : CAN SOMEONE CHECK ON ANON FOR ME….YOU OKAY BRO.⠀⠀⠀⠀!

𓋜 ; you stumbled room from room, trying to make it to your friend painter. you were honestly SO. tired from hiding from the monsters you hoped to god that you were about to finally make it to heavy containment where painter was, speaking of him! you and painter has been buddies for awhile now! you always stop by to greet him and have a little chat and catch up on how he’s doing. you’re always worried for the guy whenever new expendables come in his room, he’s particularly violent to them most of the time, yelling at them to stay out of his room, you wished he wasn’t THAT…harsh on them though! but he’s particularly nice to you always, and on your runs the turrets never get in your way, not even good people! in honesty you were glad you didn’t have to deal with them..good people can be annoying sometimes..but you immediately snapped out of your thoughts when you realize you almost walked head first into the heavy containment door…wow..you should really pay attention..

𓋜 ; snapping out of your thoughts about hating good people, you searched for the purple keycard which was on a desk right next to you, cheerfully swiping it off the desk you put the card into the keycard reader which opened both to a heavy metal door, the number read “60” , you could’ve swore that last time you checked you were on door 40…well whatever! you quickly threw the purple keycard somewhere in the room having no need for it anymore. you quickly searched each room, but having no luck finding your buddy. you sighed sadly and went on to the next..and the next…ANDDD the next one…ANDDDD…the next one….pinching your nonexistent nose in annoyance since you still have your diving helmet on, you quickly realized and rolled your eyes, but blinked once you saw those server rooms you remembered you went through each run! you cracked a smile before walking over.

𓋜 ; the metal door quickly opened before you, letting you see the contents of the room, and spotting your buddy painter! painter then snap up as soon as he heard the door open, getting ready to say a sassy remark to the next expendable, before he realized it was you! painter’s screen switched to an annoyed face to a happy one! he quickly said “ooohhh!! reader your back again!” painter said cheerfully, you smiled before taking off your diving helmet and setting it down on a nearby desk, you said “hey painter! how have you been doing?” you said gleefully before strolling over to him, painter happily responded talking about his day, you listening carefully and nodding, times like these are the best thing ever, just enjoying each other’s company and talking about anything and everything.

𓋜 ; you asked about his paintings, and he gleefully starting telling you on every piece he was working on, sometimes stumbling over his words for a moment trying to tell you every detail! you don’t mind him rambling at all! it’s almost endearing in a way…you thought of something for a moment, smiling mischievously, “oh and! about that one art piece i was making for— “ you leaned down and kissed his screen, painter stopped talking and it was almost like his screen was lagging, but you started gushing over happily about his paintings and skills, painter looked at you like he was the happiest computer in the world, he could feel his systems overheating quite a lot…by the minute..he only said “whaa…—“ before shutting off, you quickly realized and you spoke “uhh..painter..?” , “PAINTER!” you yelled before running over to him.

A/N : can’t let a fellow painter fan die🔥🔥🔥

[snowball-doie]

| pairing: Daddy!Dom!Johnny x sub!fem!Reader x sub!Taeyong

| warnings: 18+ MDNI. Poly ilichil. Fingering. Unprotected vaginal sex. Morning sex. Praise kink. Degradation kink. Getting caught by Taeyong. Cock warming themes. Exhibitionism themes. Creampie. Fem!oral. Hands free male orgasm. MLM behavior.

| wc: 2.9k

aurora's note: prompted by this anon! <3 this ended up being WAY longer than intended lmao

Johnny was the first to wake up, his hands wandering around your body, pulling you closer to him so that your back was flush with his chest. You guys promised that you were going to fall asleep early last night. You’d been out late walking around the city while talking and enjoying each other’s company before he would have to leave for tour within the next few weeks, but he said that it was important to get to bed early and wake up early in order to do some work. He was his own worst enemy in that case. Every time you offered to walk back home, he kept going along the path you guys were on. When you did make it home, you tried to climb into bed almost immediately, but Johnny insisted on talking for another few hours while cuddling with you. So when it got too late to consider the idea of falling asleep early, Johnny promised that you two would get to sleep in at least. He also lied about that.

His wandering hands were enough to gently coo you awake. With a quiet, tired groan, you rolled your hips and opened your eyes, hoping that was enough to get Johnny to release you, but it had the opposite effect. Upon squirming in his grip, you felt Johnny’s morning wood pressing against your ass.

“You can’t be for real,” you grumbled into the pillows.

“Sorry, baby, you just look too cute…” His breath was hot on your ear while he grinded his erection into your body. “Can I?”

“What happened to needing to get to work early today?”

“Work can wait.”

Honestly, you didn’t need much more convincing than that. Ever since Johnny told you about tour, the two of you were fucking like a pair of rabbits, constantly touching each other, begging for each other no matter the situation. Even in public sometimes he would shoot you a look and then you’d end up bent over a bathroom sink with his cock pistoning in and out of you at a rough pace. So you obliged him, slowly hitching up your left leg in order to provide more space for Johnny to push the fabric of your shorts covering your pussy to the side, his index finger massaging your clit gently so that he could first get you as worked up as he was. It worked. You were exhausted, yes, but you could bear the thought of being his pillow princess for the morning, allowing him to use you however he wanted… so long as you didn’t have to roll over or move a single bit. If he wanted to get his dick wet so early in the morning, he needed to do the heavy lifting.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear. “Keep quiet for me, okay? Don’t want to wake the boys.”

You nodded vaguely just before he pressed his middle finger into you, all the way down to the bottom knuckle as a test to see if you were wet enough for him yet. You weren’t. But that wasn’t anything Johnny couldn’t remedy. His finger continued to slowly work its way in and out of your hole, his wrist twisting slightly so that he could roll his thumb over your clit.

“Such a good girl for me, baby.”

You mewled when he curled his finger into your sweet spot. “J…”

“I know, I know, just let me have my fun first.”

Johnny knew how to get your riled up. The praise in your ear, his lips drifting over your skin tantalizingly slow, his fingers pleasuring you so well that you had no choice than to hide your face in the pillows so that you could stay quiet like he said. The boys had a terrible habit of walking into rooms unannounced. It didn’t matter if they knew you were playing with one of them, or if they knew that the boys were playing with each other, they would walk in without a second thought, interrupting anything and everything just for fun, or due to their obliviousness. If you showed any signs of being awake, someone would likely come to bother you and Johnny.

“You ready for me, darling?”

“Stop teasing me,” you grumbled, fisting the sheets tightly.

“But it’s so fun.”

Despite the entertainment you were providing him, Johnny was just as eager to fuck you, so he finally gave you some reprive by pulling his finger out of you and using the wetness that came along with it to slicken up his hard cock as he fished it out of his pajama pants. Johnny then held your left leg steady while it was curled up towards your torso, and with a deep breath and a grunt, Johnny’s tip found your slick entrance almost immediately.

“Remember to be quiet, yeah?”

You nodded again— But right when you thought you were prepared, Johnny purposefully shoved his entire length into you with one smooth motion of his hips. You woke up completely. The moan you let out wasn’t into the pillows like it should have been, and you certainly weren’t quiet.

Johnny chuckled in your ear. “Sorry, princess, must’ve gotten ahead of myself.”

“F-fuck… Fuck…”

He thrusted in and out of you slowly about three times before stopping. “You’re too tight, baby, relax.”

It wasn’t for the lack of trying or anything! He was being a dick on purpose in order to wake up the whole house to the sound of you two fucking, and it only occurred to you after he started fucking you so deeply.

After Johnny released your leg so that you could loosen up, he continued fucking you. His hands moved to your hips to keep you steady. The pace was just fast enough to squeak the bed frame, but not so fast that either of you would get close to the edge just yet. It felt good to be filled by him, despite how sudden it had been and how tired you were, and you felt satisfied knowing that you’d get off and stay in bed all day while Johnny and the other boys had to go to work.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he complimented with a smug chuckle. “So fucking pretty. And my perfect girl who spreads her legs for me whenever I ask nicely.” He swiveled his hips to hit another sensitive spot. “Just like that—” He bit down on your shoulder. “Such a good girl for me.”

The sound of footsteps echoing throughout the second floor hallway caught your attention suddenly. It wasn’t your fault. Johnny was being loud with all his dirty talk in your ear, of course someone was curious about the creaking bed and the whispering coming from his bedroom. You hoped that he would’ve heard it too and stopped for just a moment in order to trick whoever it was wandering around that nothing was going on, that you two were still sleeping so they shouldn’t have tried opening the door. But no. Johnny continued to fuck you at a brutal pace, completely distracted by the tight grip of your walls around his length to think twice about the approaching footsteps.

“J, someone’s coming,” you warned him frantically.

“Pretend you’re asleep.”

“What!”

“Close your eyes.”

And right then, the door flew open and you squeezed your eyes shut. You prayed the reality of what was going on in the bed would go unnoticed by the intruder. You hoped that Johnny’s stupid act would actually work and you’d successfully not get teased for the rest of the day by the other boys.

“Johnny-hyung, do you want to get coffee before we—” Taeyong stopped in his tracks. “Oh,” he whispered nervously, realizing that he’d been too loud. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Johnny reassured him with a whisper. He was trying to keep up the appearance that you were asleep, but it was just downright corny to you. “You wanna get coffee before work?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure.” He slowly thrusted into you again, catching you off guard, nearly making you moan again. “Just give me a few minutes to finish fucking her.”

And then there was silence. What did he say? Did he actually… What was the point in making you stay quiet and pretend to be sleeping if he was just going to announce it like that? You kicked his ankles under the sheets. In retaliation, Johnny grabbed your hips and began fucking into you with short yet rough thrusts which took your breath away, forcing your eyes open while you grabbed onto his arm in a desperate attempt to escape him, but he was far too strong, and he was having a blast fucking you in front of Taeyong who was still standing in the doorway, speechless. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. Hell, he’d participated before. The shock of knowing that Johnny had been lodged inside of you throughout their entire conversation meanwhile you were pretending to be asleep was so different from anything else Taeyong had accidentally walked in on before.

When he tried to back out to give you some privacy, Johnny told him, “Don’t stop watching.” Taeyong stayed. He bit his lip and trembled slightly while he watched Johnny rail you in bed, moans dripping from your tongue consistently, pleas for Johnny to slow down going ignored.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” he whispered only loud enough for you to hear, “then I’m gonna make him clean up my mess before we leave.”

You shivered at the thought. Your core tightened, a sudden urge to approach your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Johnny hissed in response to your walls tightening around him.

“He’s hard for you, baby, look at him.”

Your gaze readjusted onto Taeyong once more to find him palming himself over his pants “inconspicuously” in the hopes that Johnny wouldn’t tell him to stop, which thankfully he didn’t, but he wasn’t allowed to fully touch himself either.

“Gonna fill you up… Fuck…” He kissed the sensitive spot just behind your ear while he picked up his pace.

His hand reached around your body to squeeze between your thighs so that his index and middle fingers could return to flicking your clit quickly. You threw your head back against his shoulder. There really wasn’t any point in trying to be quiet anymore. You’d been caught, the boys were likely to find out on their own even if Johnny didn’t immediately go to brag to them about it. So you let it all go. You moaned Johnny’s name loudly, clinging to him in the hopes that he’d fuck his cock deeper into you while he chased your orgasm and sent you spiraling into one of your own.

“Please, daddy, may I cum?”

“Dirty girl, princess. Cumming on my cock while our Taeyongie watches. You want him to eat you out that badly, baby? Overstimulating your swollen clit, fucking my cum back into you with his tongue…”

“Please, please, please—”

“Hold it.”

You gasped and hunched forward in his grasp, trying to get his fingers away from your clit because they were the main contributing factor to the orgasm in your stomach that you really, truly couldn’t hold back despite Johnny’s demands.

When Johnny’s thrusts became more sporadic and his fingers struggled to find a rhythm, you realized that he was close, too. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight, fuck, fuck, fuck—” And with another few deep thrusts, Johnny came inside of you. “Cum, baby.”

You immediately let go with a satisfied moan while your legs tensed up and your whole body spasmed through a strong orgasm.

Johnny panted as he caught his breath. “Good girl…” And while he was still twitching inside of you, he grabbed a handful of your ass a bit possessively. When he was done, Johnny slowly pulled out of you, then he flipped the covers off your bodies, revealing how lazy the two of you really were by not even going through the trouble of removing your clothes before fucking so early in the morning. “Taeyongie,” he called out endearingly.

You rolled onto your back, also trying to catch your breath.

“Come here.”

Taeyong’s eyes flicked between you and Johnny, wondering if it was safe to approach or if he should have made a run for it. If he tried that, one of the Doms in the house would’ve gotten their hands on him regardless. So Taeyong stopped touching himself before warily approaching the bed. You spotted Johnny combing his long hair out of his face while sitting up, grinning at Taeyong who kneeled on the mattress.

“Clean her up for me while I get ready for work.”

Taeyong eyed you. “Can I—”

“No,” Johnny replied quickly. He wanted you clean, he didn’t want Taeyong to get off. If he was going to interrupt your morning, then he would get to suffer without an orgasm. “I'll be back.” Then oh-so-casually Johnny slid out of bed and strolled into the adjourning bathroom.

Taeyong got to work before you could brace yourself. What was it with the boys and wanting to surprise you all morning? He put his hands on both sides of your waist before pulling you towards him so that your head was no longer resting on the pillows and you couldn't escape to cover yourself with the sheets. Taeyong licked his fingers. The shower in the bathroom started running.

He regained your attention by collecting Johnny’s cum on the inside of your thighs on the tips of his fingers, then he pushed three of his fingers into you. Your back arched off the bed, hands immediately finding Taeyong’s long dyed hair, tugging on the strands to urge him forward so that his tongue could start lapping up the mixture of juices between your legs. He moaned at the taste. Your wetness, Johnny’s cum, your cum… It was all being cleaned up by Taeyong’s tongue laying flat against your skin, drifting inwards towards your entrance where his fingers were still forcing Johnny’s cum back into you. When everything was cleaned from your thighs, Taeyong began kitten licking your clit.

“Yongie—”

He groaned happily in response to the nickname and the tug in his hair.

“Too… Too sensitive… Fuck…”

But he was given a task that he couldn’t disobey, and he wanted to do such a good job, not just for Johnny but for you too. He loved the way you shook against him. Your legs closing in around his head, your fingers desperately playing with his hair, hips bucking around in a very desperate attempt to escape his overstimulating actions. That only encouraged him further. The light licks against your clit and the soft pushing of his fingers into your pussy alternated into his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and sucking harshly on it while curling his fingers deep inside of you.

“Please,” you begged helplessly.

The shower shut off.

Taeyong’s efforts doubled in speed, hurtling you towards another orgasm. No, no, no, Johnny didn’t say anything about that— He wouldn’t be happy if he found you cumming on Taeyong’s tongue and fingers. But nothing deterred Taeyong. You watched him with pleading eyes as he focused on you while grinding his hips into the mattress, probably trying to get some kind of friction to alleviate his unbearable erection.

“Taeyong—”

“You better not be cumming.”

The tone of voice coming from the bathroom doorway halted his actions immediately and pulled away with a devastated moan that had you second guessing if Johnny was speaking to you or…

Taeyong’s face was so red.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to better gauge the situation. In front of you, Taeyong was adjusting his pants uncomfortably, his eyes crossed, and gentle moans falling from his lips. As your gaze dropped, you saw a wet spot forming in Taeyong’s pants. No… It wasn’t possible? Was it?

Johnny walked forward, a towel hanging low on his hips while his wet hair dripped water down his back and onto the wood floors. He tsked his tongue, disappointed. “Did I ruin your orgasm?”

Taeyong nodded silently.

You’d never seen Taeyong cum hands free before— Hell, no one had even mentioned it before, you didn’t know it was something he was capable of. Telling by the look on his face, he didn’t know either.

Johnny cupped his hand under Taeyong’s chin, forcing him to look up with shame and embarrassment radiating off of him. “Give me a taste.” He said it like it was an offer rather than a demand before he began kissing Taeyong passionately, swallowing all of Taeyong’s desperate moans and reveling in the way Taeyong kissed him harder and more passionately in the hopes of getting more relief following his ruined orgasm; However, Johnny pulled away with a grin, leaving Taeyong untouched. “You should go change. I’ll be ready in fifteen.”

You and Taeyong shared a quick glance, both of you disappointed in the fact that Johnny was purposefully ending your playful morning with Taeyong’s ruined orgasm and your edge, Johnny’s cum still seeping out of you. Reluctantly, Taeyong stood. His erection was still prominent in his pants, poor thing. You wanted to take pity on him and help him out, but Johnny was keeping a close eye on the two of you, making sure Taeyong left without stealing another taste of you or getting himself off. John smiled at you. You slumped back down on the bed, limbs sprawled out of exhaustion.

“Meanie,” you croaked.

Johnny chuckled while walking back into the bathroom. He was clearly enjoying the idea of having something new to tease Taeyong with.

[gghostwriter]

Hi, how are you? I really love your works so I was wondering if i could write a request. Something like reader shows spencer appreciation? That pretty boy needs some sweet loving with all his trauma ngl. Thank you!

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Trope: Established Relationship; Fluff just fluff! w.c: 0.5k A/N: slowly defrosting from my creative block, yay. also Anon, so sorry this is short hope you still like it! Main masterlist

Cherished. // Spencer Reid

Spencer’s eidetic memory (and his genius IQ) was what made him, well, Spencer. It was his given talent that allowed him to graduate high school at the tender age of 12, accumulate 3 PhDs, and join the ranks of the well renowned and decorated Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI as their boy genius. 

It was also that same skill that made him a perfect boyfriend, according to you. He never missed a date, a birthday, or an anniversary—not if he could help it. So imagine his surprise when he arrived home at his shared apartment, early into the night for once, and sees you all dressed up in a pretty purple dress minus the heels, lips shining from gloss, and the table prepared for dinner for two.

“Love, did I forget something?” He rapidly racks his brain for any promised event and comes up blank.

You giggle, stretching up to give him a kiss. “Yes, you silly. Don’t you know what day it is today?” 

“It’s not your birthday, I’m sure. It’s also not our anniversary,” he rakes his hand through his hair, brows furrowing. “Can I get a hint?” 

“Well, it’s your 2nd year of being sober!” You exclaimed and turned to gesture at the laid out candle-lit dinner. “I wanted to celebrate all your progress and hard work.” 

His mouth dropped slightly open, dazed.

The silence made you second guess yourself. “Is it—are you okay, Spence?”

“I—I am. Wow, just—this is amazing, Y/N. No one’s ever done something like this for me—” he pulls you in for a hug, tucking you tight underneath his chin. “—I love it. I love you.” 

“I love you too. You deserve it, pretty boy. Plus, I’ll take any excuse to cook you a home-made meal,” you stated as you reluctantly left his warm embrace. “Now, let’s eat. I got us some non-alcoholic wine to match the pasta.” 

He watched you flit around the kitchen to grab the bottle and promptly helped you to your seat like the gentleman that you well knew and cherished. Your care and actions made him feel seen as if you saw beyond the scholastic degrees he used as his shield and through his credentials as an FBI agent—and you did see right through it all. You saw him just as Spencer Reid, the person who fights his inner demons every day and chooses the good in everything. 

His feelings felt overwhelming and out pouring inside of him. He leaned over and gave you a quick kiss on the lips, tasting your cherry tint as he did—his favorite.

“I love you.” He whispered, honey coating each word and adoration reflecting in his hazel eyes. “Thank you for choosing me.”

You returned the kiss, marking his cheek red with your gloss. “I love you too, Spencer. I wouldn’t choose anyone else but you.”

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[louebel]

Hi! Can I request fluff Law x fem!reader where reader is feels sick but tries to ignore it/do things on her own (she’s not used to ask for help) but as a doctor law easily can tell by the signs and it happens during their sea journey on the polar tang? Hope I’m not asking too much love ya 🥺

Feel free to add angst or anything else to your writing ^•^

this is super old and the only request i'll ever do (atm) since i had a wip— ANON SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER <\3 reader is gn since i used the second person and no description.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: trafalgar law × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: 6,124 wc. a bit angsty, ends with fluff, emotional reader for the sickness, law is bad at emotions. this turned longer than expected, i hope it's decent xdd hit me up if there's any mistakes lol. supposed to be called windows of the soul,, divider by @ benkeibear my lord and saviour. 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: sickness overtook your body and worsened your already pitiful situation. law has been ignoring you and you have no idea why... but with how you felt, there was no way you could confront him at the moment.

scrub, scrub, scrub... 

"... phew ..." 

scrub... poof! 

"Oh! — damnit — aargh..." 

Cleaning today has been a nightmare. Never been so tedious. 

Like, it was already uninteresting compared to all the other things you could do, but today it was ten times worse. You could bear it, seeking to make dusting shelves fun by humming some random tune to yourself. It was okay, something you had to do every once in a while. You could do it. 

If only you weren't sick. 

"Achoo! Achoo! — urgh... Achooo..! Damn." 

You began feeling like this some days ago, or so you told yourself as you delicately hunched down to the floor, hoping to grasp the yellow sponge soaked in foam and water without experiencing excruciating pain. However, your hopes soon shattered as your back screamed in agony and your legs trembled with soreness, almost giving up on you. 

Just the flu, you insisted, it would go away. A couple of sneezes mean nothing. You would feel better and all would go back to the ordinary. 

... Oh, how wrong you were! And how stupid for not getting a day off. 

You were capable, though! You counted on your immune system (it sounded heroic the first time you thought of that). One night is all you needed. 

Or not. 

"Ow, ow..." 

You should've told your captain. Sure, it would cost your courage, pride, and dignity, but at least you'd be cured. You'd rather die than tell him you got sick because of the one herb he instructed everybody to avoid. 

What's worse is that he's been rather distant, and he's unquestionably avoiding you. The way he shoots daggers — no, whole machetes in your direction every time you do anything, smart or not, is so clear even the crew can see it. And the worst part? You do not know why. 

It had been like this for a while now, and you detested this whole plight with passion. Everything was okay between the two of you, you were sure of it! What did you do that spurred such a reaction? From one so dear to you? 

Those sweet memories... 

From new findings you excitedly presented him, to revealing himself, his past and adventures to you after almost a year of sailing. You knew everything about him. He knew everything about you. 

So why? Why stop so abruptly? You didn't mind when he digressed about his newfound coins. When he murmured under his breath while he pored over medical books or mulled about a particular topic. When he stressed over labor and called for a brief break, where you or the crew would attend to him by delivering him a meal or helping when he wasn’t looking. He's so stubborn.

"Uurgh..." 

From captain, to Law, to captain again. Not to mention how he deftly stopped you from hanging out with him. You thought he needed space at first. Maybe he was tired and had to rest for the next few days. That’s alright. However, your thoughts deteriorated as the days passed. But well, right now it's better if he doesn't see you at all. Nor the crew‌ — oh, the damn crew. Those two.

The "two" being the pair of nitwits that constantly stand by law's side and grin at you. Seriously... 

You do not understand what Penguin and Shachi find so amusing about your situation with him. It's a tragedy, not a comedy. You love them both, truly, the minute you stepped into the polar tang they were the first ones to get you to open up and all, but goodness, you wish you could beat them for sitting there, cackling and clapping their hands while confiding some mysterious comments to each other when la — the captain, showed up in the area and walked past you with an unreadable gaze. He'd constantly salute you and the others with a bow of his head or more, depending on his mood. 

Now? If he saw one inch of your form? 

Sigh. His face always went red. 

Why can't those two just tell you? Even Ikkaku seemed to know something you didn't. She was more subtle about it, though. Jean Bart wasn't slick either. You could see him smile from a mile away. Hakugan and Clione? Shachi and Penguin 2.0, except they hid behind Jean Bart. The rest pitied you instead, sometimes patting your back — sometimes shaking their head almost in disbelief. Oh, and Bepo gave you suspicious smiles! Every time he tried to say something to you, those two animal hat-wearing goblins silenced him. Did they just want you to suffer? 

And if they did want that then their curses were working because even after grabbing the sponge (almost losing your temper as it slipped through your gloved palm twice) and straightening back to an erect pose, your head was still banging with fervor, muscles barely reacting. 

If only you could snuggle with the fluffy, warm mink right now. A bitter sigh rushed past your lips at the thought. 

Those two were just so mean. But Law was much meaner — the captain, the captain... Yes, the captain. That... That dummy. 

You groaned and shook your head while forcing your wobbly arms to scrub the table, exhausted mentally with this never-ending train of thoughts and these fanciful fists leaving invisible bruises all over your poor body. Not to point out those hands pinching your brain like dough... 

Just — you... Goodness, what was it he suddenly despised so much? The submarine felt like home. It was home, especially when he joined you. Now when he does, he — the aura he emanates is intimidating, yet everyone is either unaware of it or not affected by it. 

What made him so resentful? You can barely say anything when he strides into the place, too panicked to learn how he would perceive you or talk to you if you go on. It's like you're back on step one, isolated, too scared to be yourself with your family. Because of one man who's supposed to be the head of it. 

Being you felt like a sin when close to him, as if he preferred the private variant of who you are, and shunned your curious and spirited self. You could understand since he’s rather closed off and well, in a certain aspect you are too, but — did he not like you at all? Was it all an act to not offend you? He didn't seem to dislike your vivid reactions initially, or your foolish gestures when nearing a fresh island. You were often silent, smiling and listening to others converse, but when around your companions, you easily liked to open up since it was the only time you could do so. And they were more than just that. You entrusted all the members of the heart pirates. They meant everything to you. Even him, who stopped including you. 

Ugh... 

You wished it could all go back to normal. 

This disease enjoyed fumbling with your previously scrambled sentiments. Law did mention it brought a high fever and emotional susceptibility. You didn't consider it'd be this severe. 

"... Okay, I'm done." 

You certainly weren't, with your bed unmade and furniture still dusty; floor imploring for a good wash. However, with the croaky voice you had paired with your runny nose, you doubted you could do more. Even if you did, it'd be better not to. 

You peered down at the bucket full of water that probably smelled better than you at the moment, ignoring the small puddle beside it made by your poor handling sponges skills. Grimacing, you decided to leave it where it was in case carrying it back turns out to be a challenge. Hopefully, Ikkaku can provide you help later. 

Looking around, your droopy eyelids dimmed your perspective and further provoked you as both exasperation and exhaustion mixed and boiled in your gut, room so messy it mirrored your current state. You didn't know what was irritating you more: the light of the lamp or the disarray you resided in. 

Howling dejectedly, you turned and plodded to your bed, opening your arms, ready to throw yourself on the mattress. The more you sleep, the sooner you'll get better. Yeah, you're so brilliant. You closed your eyes and — 

knock knock. 

— reopened them a second after, remaining immobile for an extra few before glowering at your door, contemplating whether to go open it or linger to determine if they'd leave. Hmm. 

You waited. 

... knock knock. 

Fantastic.

You gritted your teeth, drawing a profound breath to settle your nerves, haywire thanks to the hellish illness. They didn’t deserve to withstand your rage, but who knows, maybe by seeing your shape, they'll show sympathy and tell you. That could work. 

Okay. 

You sluggishly trudged to the door, not bothering to adjust your unbuttoned pajamas and faking a cheerful facade. You hoped your face didn't look too awful, but you couldn't care less right now. 

Gripping and twisting the knob, you pushed it open, greeting them with the feeblest voice you've ever had, your sore nose making it unthinkable to inhale air. You rubbed the back of your head while doing so, eyelids closed to evade any light. 

"Yo, Penguin, Shachi, how can I—" the words automatically came out of your coarse and blazing throat, opening your eyes a bit to look at... them... 

Then you saw a tattoo. And more tattoos. No white, poofy boiler suits in sight. 

By barely seeing light before, you tried giving yourself mercy, but now you were only slaughtering yourself to make sure the person in front of you was, well. Him. 

Your jaw fell while your brows lifted in consternation, but shortly returned down thanks to your declining headache. Your pupils then scaled the mountain of mass before you and arrived at the peak. Another pair of eyes. 

Cool, gray eyes. The ones that just a week ago welcomed you with compassion and comfort. Now they drive you to wither away from this world. Even if you look up to them. (Hehe, get it? man, you're so silly, wow.) 

"—help … Captain. Uh, hello." and there goes your comfort zone. 

You tried swallowing down air but got pounds of mucus down your stomach instead, curved posture closing up even more in his presence, ashamed to be seen in such a weak state, instantly regretting not managing your appearance as his gaze scrutinized you from top to bottom, probably displeased with how you presented yourself.. 

You looked everywhere but at him. He only looked at you. 

Envy spurted from the plant’s toxins. How could he focus on one thing and have so much confidence to stare at someone without breaking eye contact at all? If you do the same for longer than two seconds, it feels like whoever looked at you has seen your entire personality, life, darkest secrets that you didn't really have, closest people to you — everything in poor words. The windows of your soul, perpetually agape.

How does he keep them closed? Why can't you seal them at all? Why?— 

"—so care to explain the meaning of this?" 

"Huh?" 

You stupidly stared at him, blinking and glancing at his shoulders, then back at him to break whatever spell he put on you, not able to concentrate at all. 

Barely could you see the annoyed expression on his face. You hoped he wasn't dealing with excessive stress. Making him feel worse was not your intention. 

"I said, care to explain what this is? You look... terrible—" you cringed at that, "—and you haven't come out of your room since this morning. Do you have any idea what time it is?" His scrutinizing tone made you want to crawl under your blankets and stay there forever, but his patronizing gaze didn't let you. 

You could merely fidget with your fingers and glance back at the floor to relieve your worries, which mixed with pain, fatigue, and dirtiness. You called for sleep so badly. 

"I'm—I'm sorry, Captain. I, uh, I didn't—" sniff, "—mean to skip my duties. Sorry." 

His brow creased in suspicion at your raspy voice and poor shape. 

"Is that so? Look at me while you say it." if his words weren't menacing enough, his tone was too. He knew you couldn't do that. Especially now. 

"Uh..." you unconvincingly whispered, continuing to play with your fists, until rubbing your nape once more, shuddering at how chilled your hands were compared to it. 

Your actions were, again, spotted by him, and if one more thing occurred, then he'll be correct. 

"Well? I'm waiting." 

"..." 

Sighing exasperated, you raised your head to look into his pupils once again.  

Unbeknownst to you, he already confirmed another of his impressions while taking a further view of your sullen visage. 

"I, uhm, overslept, Captain. That — that happens sometimes, yeah? Sorry about that. I'll—I'll..." stopping for a moment, you squinted your eyes and scrunched your nose while the man before you attentively fixated his stare on your frame and— 

"Achooo!" —covered half of your face whilst he recoiled back at the loud sneeze you let out, not expecting it at all. He blinked, then you sneezed again, and again. Streak of three. 

If your voice and glossy eyes already told everything to the doctor, the continuous sneezes only reinforced his thesis. 

You exhaled haplessly as he sternly said your name. 

"You're sick." his firm and coherent words could not be fooled. Your fate was sealed. 

"...Yeah." at this point, you didn't care. He was gonna scold you, nothing you could do about it. You could only hope he'll do that after you're cured because right now, you could barely stand still without shivering. You were sure if he wanted to do something he would have already, so he definitely will have a talk with you after you're healthy. 

"Why?" you've been proven wrong so many times this morning — afternoon. Evening? That you don't know what's gonna happen next. 

You stared at him numbly, almost done with everything. 

"What do you mean 'why'? I don't, I don't know. Probably our... Ugh, our last stop, isn't that obvious—" 

"Not that. Why didn't you say anything? To the others? To me?" 

If it wasn't for your head beating incessantly and the aching of your tendons ruining everything, you would think this was a dream. 

You kept gawking at him like a goldfish. His timbre wasn't as stern as it regularly was. It was a bit, just a tad bit lower. Like, barely. His eyes were softer, and if you met the man yesterday, you wouldn't be capable of identifying his mood. It's because you knew him for so long that you could distinguish it. 

"I..." you mumbled talks under your breath, awfully feeble to maintain the discussion, barring your eyes and hitching away when Law planted his freezing hand on your forehead. You fussed in protest, although it didn't last long. 

"You're cold... Off." 

"My hands are perfectly fine. You're burning," he interrupted you, stating the obvious. But you were far too deep to listen, fatigued. 

"Yeah... M'sorry." you nodded while deliberately looking down in shame, almost dropping to the ground out of fatigue. Everything seems hazy, the pressure in your skull fading, while the breaths you took were meager. 

Something skimmed over your shoulder and nape — ah, his fingertips — palm carefully tilting your head back up. Your mouth hung open, and you attempted to focus on your captain's facial features and the iconic hat to not fall asleep. 

"It's fine." But his gentle approach and mellow maneuvers set you in a soothing trance, where you couldn't do anything other than auscultate him. 

It’d be an exceptional moment to speak up about these last days, his odd actions. 

"It... It is? You, ah... You're not..." but you struggled to do so, chest too heavy to speak. He narrowed his eyes, striving to make out what you were saying, but it was all incomprehensible to him. 

"I'm not?" he urged you to proceed, getting closer — he felt warm. Wasn't he cold some seconds ago? Ah, he’s draping his coat over your shoulders, so, so cozy, — and holding you as if you were glass. Why was he holding you? It felt nice, undoubtedly nice. Oh, you were going to fall, you think. 

“Hey—hey. It’s okay. I got you. I got you.” 

Cradling you in his arms, Law cursed and crouched down, snaking an arm under your knees and sweeping you up, a short "there" slipping from his tongue, keeping you close to his breast. Naturally, you snuggled close to the source of heat, losing consciousness, unaware of your surroundings, his distress, and jogging to the infirmary. 

“Hey. Keep your eyes open. No, no, open—yes, yes, like that. Good job. A bit more, then you can go to sleep, alright?" 

While nodding lazily when he said your name again, you curled up for more warmth, and he mellowly followed your movement, hefting you up and pressing his lips upon your forehead, his frown deepening at how high the temperature was. He needed to administer medicine quickly. 

"Law …'m sorry if I smell." 

He scoffed. Thinking of such idiotic things was exactly like you, sputtering them out so bluntly. Rolling his eyes was natural at this point. 

"That's my last concern. We'll think of your scent and hygiene later. Don't speak. Shh." 

So stupid, so stupid. He should've confronted you ever since you left the island. He should've. It's been a recurring pattern these days. He couldn't see you because of his work but spoke with the others at breakfast, lunch, dinner... They all grew concerned about your distance. Uni shared that it began right after the departing... He knew something wasn't right with you, he could feel it.

Back in that inhabited location, he quickly took note of your drooping posture and fatigued breathing. He wanted to ask about it, but the following days, you acted normal, and Law thought you were queasy because of the heat.

Then he got busy checking on the crew's documents, medicine supply, the damn broken scope Hakugan sadly reported, bounties, news — and something else. He managed to give a check-up to everyone but you. It was mandatory after leaving an island.

With you evading him and him doing the same, this happened. Great. He could only hope it wasn't contagious.

... Wait.

He gritted his teeth in sour realization — Not once has he seen you in the halls or dining hall. No one mentioned you, either. Have you eaten anything at all? Oh, you imbecile.

He palmed your skin through your suit, easing your laments and whimpers, walking through the hallways of the Polar Tang and reaching the infirmary. Kicking the door open while lulling you a bit, shushing and fluttering his eyelids at your sick and quaking form. 

"There we go. Shh, I know, I know, it's awful." 

Uplifting the blankets, he quickly covered you and began searching for his equipment, rustling and metal clicks tangling with your whines. 

"U- uuh... W- where..?" 

"I'll be there in a second. I'm here." 

As he said that, he quickly came back to you, already stirring medicine in a cup. He had to give to you before you blacked out or fell asleep. Sliding a hand under your back, he carefully pushed you up, gaining a groan from you; you sounded so tired. Tipping your head forward, he brought the rim of the cup to your lips. You were delirious, could barely see or feel, but managed to follow his direct instruction to "open". The first glass was tasteless, fresh... water. 

The second tasted awful. 

"E—eugh..." 

"A couple more sips and we're done. Come on, you're doing good." 

Once you drank it all, with a small praise from Law, he gently laid you back down, about to check your vitals. He knew you were in no condition to do as he instructed, it would be all him. Idiot, idiot... 

Just looking at you made him guilty. He never saw you this awful. However, what truly pushed him were your next phrases. 

“Do you feel better now..?” 

Low and dry, they all were. He halted his movements, his hands in the bag, shifting his attention to you. 

Your question puzzled him. 

Feel better? Him? He was fine. Perhaps you thought the disease was contagious? No; you would've phrased that diversely. His forehead creased, slightly tilted to the side. 

"What?" 

“I … I missed you." 

And as clear drops cascaded down your cheeks, his limbs froze, a bittersweet ache striking his chest. 

"I—I thought I did something wrong … I’m sorry … Should've told you. 'M sorry ... really...” 

Shit. 

“No, no, don’t be. It’s alright, don't—don't speak. You did nothing. Shh...” 

And if you stayed conscious for some more seconds, you could've seen those severe pupils mitigate. The windows of his soul open up; the "stern" gaze he preserved for you withering in an instant at your vulnerability. 

All he wanted to do was clear that up. When, now..? 

“I—I’m the one that should’ve apologized, damn it…” 

"Aargh..." 

Warm. 

"Mmh..." 

It was very warm. Pleasant. 

"Hn..." 

The boilersuit felt different. Heavier, and not … poofy. Hm. 

The pillow was so nice, though... 

You sought a better position under the comforting and amiable regime of your blanket, squinting your glistening eyes as if sand had struck them; eyebrows knitting in distaste and discomfort, choler cramming up your insides — but not for long, extremely achy and sleepy to lament. 

Shouldn't it be easier to relax now that you are tired? Shifting left and right left your muscles throbbing. The peace you could achieve in your dreams was all you begged for. But no, you just had to rise two more times in the span of minutes or hours. 

When you woke up the third time, someone surprised you. He was perching on a chair near the infirmary's bed, head, presumably about to doze off. An encyclopedia of vegetation and exotic environs sat in his palms and dotted jeans, the cover made of green-coloured leather, firm to the touch. 

He looked peaceful. 

"... Law?" 

Your lashes fluttered at the fierce shudder that rocked his frame, the textbook about to fall, his eyes snapping open and rapidly darting up to you. 

"Oh. You woke up. Good. Good evening." 

You were mad at him. You were mad at him. 

His lips were indubitably moving. Whatever he was saying, you were not listening. Something about being out for hours, but you were too out of it to pay attention. 

And looking down at your body, your eyeballs almost popped out of your sockets at the sight of... Not your boilersuit. 

"I'm in my pajamas?" 

"And — hm? Oh. I changed you." Pause. "With my devil fruit, of course. Obviously. You were way too hot in it." 

"..." 

"..." 

Pause number two. 

"I'm hot?" You bluntly said,

"Not in that way." And he quickly retorted, bashful. You immediately got gloomy.

"Oh..." You and Bepo were alike. He couldn’t help but sweatdrop.

"No, no, no, don't — you look fine. That's not what I meant." 

A hoarse chuckle ripped from your sensible larynx, a noise that he hadn't heard in a while. His back loosened at your jovial note, the pressure applied on the envelope of the manual lessening. 

There was a superb illustration of the flora you accidentally whiffed. 

"You inhaled it, didn't you?" 

... Silence followed. Then a sigh.

"A simple allergy with a sore throat and emotional instability in the first phase caused by the pollen, weakened muscles and headache in the second, and heightened senses, nausea, and worsening of the body in the last one. You felt them all." 

Quick and precise, each symptom he mentioned appeared throughout the weeks you boarded on the Polar Tang. He hit the mark. Glancing at him from the corner of your eyes, you nodded sheepishly, feeling hot in your cheeks. 

"Y—Yeah." 

"I thought I mentioned dodging those peculiar red flowers. I don't expect you to recall the name, but to avoid it. Thankfully, you only inhaled its pollen, or else you would've been in this bed the moment we departed." 

"O—oh... That bad?" 

"No, not really. The symptoms would've developed quicker, but nothing dangerous. Perhaps you would have slept over two days, as all cases do when encountering this allergy," He narrows his eyes at you, shutting the book and crossing his long legs, his foot jouncing. "Not at all fatal, only worrying when the patient in question mentions nothing about the symptoms and overworks themselves.” 

“Hey—” 

“You're fine." 

A small huff left your lips, nodding lazily. Nothing was uttered after from both sides. Occasional groans from yours. Only then he spoke. 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

"..." The answer was simple. He immediately found the illness yet couldn't pinpoint the cause of this? It was almost ironic. Your quietude wasn't taken well. 

"Well?" 

"... You ignored me. You made it clear." 

And he was faking ignorance. That glance, his attitude. You knew him too well, but had no energy to call him out. 

"I—I didn't." 

"Don't play coy, Law. Did I do something? Even the others know. Penguin and Shachi told me. I—" 

You paused when he raised his hand, glancing at it in confusion, then back at him, twice or more. He sighed and dropped it back on his thigh again, using his other one to rub his temple in distress. 

"You did nothing. I don't know what... Shachi and Penguin said," You tilted your head at his peculiar manner of quoting them. "But I've got nothing against you." 

He stopped rubbing and lifted his head to check on you again and you were unsure of what to say. His brows wrinkled the tender skin of his forehead, severity, and minor unease painting every fiber of his appearance. 

You just... didn't know. 

"Really? Then why those weird stares? Why leave the room the moment I come in? I mean." you flailed your hands around, looking everywhere as if you could find an explanation. "You never behaved this way, Law, not with anyone. I... It was fine before, right? Let me ask again, did I do something wrong?" 

"Of course not!" 

At his hasty exclamation, you blinked, uncertain why he became as rigid as stone. Palms back on the blanket, you awaited an elaboration of his thoughts, observing his adumbral face to detect any key to figure out what caused him to alter his ways with you. However, his hat, which you've always appreciated for its fluffiness, turned out to be an issue. Those eyes you've grown so fond of refused to meet yours. 

You just couldn't get it. The surrounding air grew an intoxicating no romance book would mention, one that did the contrary of setting your heart aflame, that poor muscle of yours. 

If he explained, it would've been easier. 

"Okay, 'of course not' ... Sure—" 

"We are not having this conversation. You need rest." 

He briskly cut you off, and your heart felt constricted. The words felt bitter upon both of your tongues, so bitter and revolting, they made his jaw clench and your eyes water. You weren't having it. Absolutely not. 

"I feel better now, thank you, and I say we're having this right here." You pushed, ignoring how he clenched his tattooed fist.

"No—" 

"Yes, Law! I don't know what I did, but if it bothers you, shouldn’t you tell me? There are things we can all miss." 

The pang in your brain was still active, and you had no patience nor strength to argue. Either he spoke up or you'd go straight to sleep. 

"I... You did nothing that bothers me." 

His speech was almost a whisper, a low rumble, and were you in your regular state, you'd feel sad to see him like this. Law had no trouble speaking up— perhaps with apologies, or admitting to be wrong when in the midst of a conversation. Maybe something genuinely bothered him. But he'd tell you, wouldn't he? He had to.

But you weren't the only one who had to consider the consequences. He also had to do his part. 

"... And?" you encouraged him, to gain something, something that would lead you both to that damned thing you were both chasing, that ounce of understanding. 

“And—and what?" alas, it served another wave of blistering dissatisfaction down upon the membranes of your boiling stomach. 

He couldn't be serious. 

"... Whatever. I'm going to sleep." 

"What?" 

You detested how you were feeling, a volcano of passions, the pounding in your skull, and the heat, and the ludicrous, nagging insecurity, all these wretched, gristly sensations shoved in your mouth and scraping your gullet, such a relucting and squalid dish, contaminating your palate and inflaming the gums of your teeth. 

But all Law could see was how your eyes moistened and reddened, the crinkles at the corners of your mouth, the contracted tissues above your nose. 

You couldn't feel how his heart plummeted, either. Again, he caused you to cry. 

"Hey... I—" 

"No, Law, no! I said leave! You ignored me for almost two weeks and now—now you're just..!" 

Perhaps you were being a bit too "dramatic" for something you could solve with a modest exchange, something that, compared to all the obstacles you and Law went through, was a sheer grain of dust in your shoes. Yet you erupted for the frustration, the plant's effects and that nameless thing you'll bring in your grave, for if he knew, he'd probably pity you. 

Maybe, just maybe, he should've kept ignoring you. If solely to dim that warmth. The glow in your eyes that only sparked with him. 

"I don't mind if you need time. I don't mind if you're busy or whatever, that's obviously fine! But can't you tell me? Is it that hard? Instead of treating me like a stranger? Just—just, just leave..." 

Your snotty voice seemed ridiculous, resounding through the infirmary alongside your sobs and sniffles. Vision tarnished by your tears, staring at the ceiling with resignation. It alarmed Law, whose emotions were already scattered; unnerved, anxious. 

He couldn't take seeing you like this. He couldn't. 

"That’s not it! I... I just — I..!" His broken explanations fell as your cries didn't stop; spasms traveling through your frazzled nerves. He swore under his breath, getting up and coming to you, standing close but so, so distant. His fingers jerked, impatient to wipe your tears, to calm you down, to assure you everything was alright, and this was all on him. 

"What..?" you meekly whimpered, gazing at him as he appeared in your sight. 

"I, I..!" if only he could express himself. You'd figure out. If only he could, without buckling and tearing apart at the weight of his own feelings. 

"... You what, Law?" 

It was tough to see with all those tears coating your scleras, but... His lips quivered. His jaw tensed. 

His hands craved yours. 

"I like—I like you!" 

... You wondered if illusions were part of the symptoms. Your eyelids were all but relaxed. Popeyed. 

"There. I said it. I mean it. Seriously. I—I think I love you." 

You could feel his frantic grip, slightly pulling the blankets in his direction, tense as him. You've never seen Law so … jittery with you. Perhaps when he slowly spoke of his past, or when his plan failed. 

"I—I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I... I was confused. I don't know. Maybe I shouldn't... No, okay. I, I love you, but you don't have to reciprocate, really. ‌I just wanted to clarify that I wasn't—" 

This was different, however. Not the same vulnerability, nor agitation. That teetering edge coating his sayings, not at all close to those instances. 

"... Law." 

"—ignoring you, I mean, I was, but I just couldn't face you, you know? I didn't know how to act—" 

That glow, those feelings. The twinkle in his eyes Bepo mentioned when you spoke of something that fascinated you, that rare grin on his lips, and that sweetness, the swelling in his chest, and the red, and the breath of fresh air, and the intoxicating romance books loved to talk about... 

Those tints blooming in his cheeks. The faint relaxation of his defined brows. How he covered his pretty, vulnerable self. 

He's no different from you. Oh, oho ho, no, he wasn’t. Only now did you realize. 

"Law." 

"—but I missed you so much, I missed your presence, being with you, I—" 

Your heartbeats matched. 

"Law!" 

You understand now. The definitive yell induced him to quit his blabbering, and eventually, he found your gaze. Those windows were not locked at all. Not marginally, not halfway. They were fully open. You could see him. 

"It's... the same." 

It was all you could utter. His jaw loosened, and you could recognize his wide, stormy irises. 

"Huh? Wh — what?" 

"I feel the same way, Law. I—I love you too." 

Yours were open, too. They always were- yet he never acknowledged what dwelled inside. Two fools you both were. 

"... Oh..." and a breathless whisper was all he could offer. 

The silence dissipated. A delightful warmth occupied your rib cage. The pressure was gone. 

All is back to normal. 

"If... If you weren't sick. I'd kiss you." He mumbled, and his lips looked more luscious than ever. He shouldn't have said that. Now it was even harder. 

"P—pfft... Of course, of course. Can you come closer, at least?" you pouted, giving him the best puppy eyes you could muster. “Pretty please?”

"... Fine. It's — not contagious, anyway," he huffed, his cheeks a light pink, and he sat on the margin of the infirmary's bed, hustling just a tad bit closer... 

Closer... 

"Closer?" 

"Alright." 

His ears grew pink at your giggles. Your fingers graced each other, "DEATH" entwined with you. His hands were lukewarm. Long, slim, calloused in some places, but also tender to the contact. His metacarpals were partially discernible, defining the shadows. He took care of his nails, ensuring they were cut short, although they appeared slightly, just somewhat lengthier than usual. Not considerably, however; they were still short. 

How you missed holding it. 

"Sorry, by the way. About everything." Squeezing his hand, you attempted to show him what it meant to you. He squeezed it back, brushing the top of your hand with his thumb, a pensive and solemn look on his face. 

"No- I should apologize for not saying anything sooner. I neglected and avoided you. I … I don’t know what to do. You know I’m not the type for relationships.” 

You hummed in acknowledgement, but weren't as worried as Law. You'll wait. Nothing would change. 

“Mmm. I can wait for you, Law.” Saying it seemed to take him off guard, as if he hadn't thought about it. Or, rather, didn't expect you to propose it. In his head, it seemed silly because it's him. If you were to ask in his place, he'd also wait. 

He felt lighter. 

“… Truly?” 

“Yeah. We can figure it out together. Like we always did. I’ve loved you for years." He inhaled deeply, your words buttery and sweet. "I’m fine with waiting longer.” 

Thinking you wouldn't accept, if he asked, was stupid of him too. Of course you would. Of course. With another squeeze, he nodded, and turned his head away from you a bit. 

His eyes glistened. 

“I’d like that. Thank you.” 

You smiled, too, saying nothing in return. 

He can take all the time he needs. 

After some days, everything went back to the typical routine. The first thing you did was knock Shachi and Penguin's heads, (supported by Ikkaku) and since Hakugan and Clione were on duty, you couldn't do the same for them. 

You puffed your cheeks and enjoyed chewing the well-earned treat you snagged from the kitchen, reorganizing boxes since this morning. 

"Tired?" 

Peeking at the door, a smile adorned your mouth at the sight of your captain leaning on it. 

"Mm, there were a lot of them." 

"You could've asked for help. You know I don't want any of you to strain yourselves with tasks." 

"I had it. Don't worry. Although..." another bite. "I miss it." 

"Hm?" he crooned, tipping his head forward. "Miss what?" 

You gazed into his eyes, "Miss getting pampered by you when I was sick." lovingly observing how they enlarged a bit before returning to the stoic stare he always wore, swaying his head to dismiss your remarks. The chambré tint on his cheeks was as clear as day, like his light smile. Not that you'd tell him, he'd immediately disregard it. 

"... Meet me at my office once you're done." 

As he turned his back to you, his boots making clicky rumors with each step, your smirk amplified... After all, who could wait to get coddled by none other than their favorite captain?

[90ekz]

do you think you could write hcs of jean with a softspoken gf? nobody writes for him fr it’s so sad

an! i love jean and this concept anon ! im a soft spoken girl myself so this really hits home 🥹 i hope you enjoy!!

jean as your boyfriend <3

SFW

when you two first started dated, jean was convinced that he hit the lottery. you were everything he ever wanted and he loved a girl that kept to herself.

jean sometimes takes you to wing houses & burger joints and watches with a huge smile as you try to order your food against the chaos of the other people conversing around you. you weren’t the biggest fan of having to yell in public, but you tried your best, and his heart melts everytime.

when you first met him at connie’s house warming party, you bumped into him, spilling the contents of your cup onto his white button up. jean had turned beet red as you stood on your tippy toes to whisper a hurried apology into his ear over the sound of the blaring music, while rushing to go get paper towels.

his favorite thing about you is how attentively you listen. it doesn’t matter what he’s talking about, you’ll be making eye contact and nodding along to whatever he has to say.

gets irritated with you during arguments, because you well… don’t engage. he could be giving a verbal, ten page, double spaced paper about how irritated he is with you, and you’ll just look at him like you’re bored.

“all i’m saying is that you don’t have to get aggressive with me over this. yes, i was at armin’s late and didn’t say anything, but i’ll tell you next time, okay? i’m sorry.” “okay.” “i said sorry, damn! stop yelling!”

you aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation, but he is. connect the dots yourself.

“SHE SAID NO GODDAMN TOMATO!” “it’s fine, i can just take them off—“ “not now, baby. gimme a sec, okay? anyway, FIX HER FUCKING BURGER!”

the two of you communicate so silently that it freaks your friends the hell out. when you want to go home, when you’re tired, when he’s needy, when he’s irritated? easy, simple eye contact will send you or him springing into action to fix the problem.

you may be quiet, but you love to laugh. jean doesn’t think he can think of anything more angelic-sounding than the sound of your genuine laughter, only for him.

jean had to learn how to be more tender when doing daily tasks. he was so used to slamming doors and stomping up stairs that he didn’t remember to adjust that behavior when you moved in.

(the first week you moved in, he’d thrown open the door to your bedroom and felt his chest squeeze as you almost tumbled out of your desk chair. now he puts three gentle taps on every door when he needs to come in.)

physical touch fanatic. end of discussion.

NSFW

lemme tell you, this man takes it to heart when you try to hold in your moans. you’re a little embarrassed with how loud you get, but nothing turns jean on more.

“nuh uh, lemme hear you—need to hear how good i’m making you feel, princess..”

during your first time together, he’d almost cum in his pants at the mere sound of your loud groans bouncing off the walls.

loves when you pull his hair more than anything. he takes it as a sign to go harder, fuck you deeper, and he obliges everytime. his cock throbs harder each time you run your fingers through his loose curls.

about 5.7 inches roughly, but thick. his cock flares as it goes downward; the head being the slimmest part. giving him head is fun, you think.

jean has this weird little fixation with your neck. it doesn’t matter what position he has you in, he’ll have a hand—or his mouth—running across the skin of your throat. backshots? he’s got a hand pressing against your nape to keep you in place. missionary? he’s massaging his thumb over your throat so tenderly that it should be illegal. cowgirl? he’s squeezing the sides of your neck while whispering about how good of a girl you’re being for him. he’s pretty damn weird.

his favorite thing to do is eat you out. you deny it, but your voice shoots up a whole octave when he massages your gspot with his two fingers of choice as he suckles on your swollen clit.

utterly surprised at how much you talk during sex. it almost embarrasses him how much you beg, scream, and whine for him. a mixture of ‘please’s’ and ‘fuck’s being infused in his head for eternity.

“oouu—shit, you’re so fucking loud…”

presses down on your stomach to feel where he is so he can try and go deeper… yeah.

tries to fuck your throat hoarse just to hear your raspy voice for a few hours. you’re such a trooper, just sitting there and taking it for him, even if he laughs at you after.

“babe, i’m so sorry—hahaha!” “this isn’t funny, i sound like t-pain!” “I LIKE THE BARRRTENDERRR—ouch, im sorry, i said i’m sorry!”

aftercare god. he’ll spend hours taking care of you, washing your back in the tub, greasing your scalp, making you tea and cookies, the whole nine. this man loves you deep.

[frvnkcastles]

hello 👋🏻 how are you? first thank you for everything you write, your blog it's my safe place. 💓

aaand i have a request if you like i was thinking in a frank x reader.

where they have been dating for two years and live together. one night she goes to a nightclub with her friends and a man keeps trying to talk to her, but she quickly manages to dismiss him, until she starts to feel like she's going to pass out and doesn't really understand what's happening so she gets up to go to the bathroom and the same man starts going after her, and she realizes that the guy put drugs in her drink, she starts running and locks herself in the bathroom and calls Frank in a panic and he keeps calming her on the phone until he arrives there and when he arrives he takes her home and takes care of her?

thank you💓

HEAVEN IS WHEREVER YOU ARE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: When you’re harassed at a club, Frank comes to the rescue.

Warnings: Reader is drugged, harassment, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2.2k

Author’s note: I’m doing okay anon, I hope you are too <3 Thank you so much for this idea! I actually had something like this written from years ago, so I just had to revamp it a little and here we go :) I hope you enjoy!

”Anythin’ comes up, you call me, aight?” Frank’s voice was demanding but full of care and love as he looked at you with intent eyes and his hands on your shoulders. As soon as you had told him your friends had invited you out to the local club, he had been all over you, not only appreciating the sight of you in that dress you only brought out for special occasions, but also making sure you would be okay. He had armed you with pepper spray and now, for the third time, insisted that even if he was going out himself, all you had to do was call and he’d drop everything to come and get you.

”I will. I’ll be okay, baby”, you reassured him, cupping his cheek and pressing a quick but sweet kiss in the middle of his mouth, causing him to lick his lips to revel in the taste of your lip gloss.

Reluctantly, he let go of you and you were well on your way. It wasn’t like he didn’t trust you — he was well-aware you could take care of yourself, it was just that he preferred to be the one doing it. You were everything to him and sometimes that manifested in overly protective behavior, but you appreciated him looking after you and knew it was just the way he was built after suffering enough loss. You didn’t fault him for it, if anything, knowing he was always in your corner was exactly why you felt safe going out into the dark night.

The club and your friends were a welcome distraction from the long week at work, and you felt so free and happy just dancing away with a fruity drink in your hand and the beat of the music guiding your hips. You weren’t exactly the best dancer, but you let the song carry you away, not a care in the world as you swayed and swung.

Time passed quickly in the company of your dearest friends, but eventually, your feet began to ache from the constant dancing and you retreated to the bar for another drink by yourself. Parting ways with your friends turned out to be a grave mistake — as soon as you had ordered another cocktail, a man appeared by your side and boldly invaded your personal space.

”Hey gorgeous, buy you a drink?” he asked with a crooked grin, and trying your best not to cringe at his attempt to charm you, you shook your head. Only Frank had the right to call you gorgeous, and you kept that fact locked and loaded if he wasn’t going to take your first hint.

”No, thanks. Already ordered”, you gave him a polite smile while gesturing at the drink delivered by the bartender. You were about to grab the glass and head back to the dance floor to find your friends, but the tall stranger cornered you, and in an instant, your alarm bells went off.

”C’mon, what’s the rush? What’s your name, princess?” he continued, and with a surge of disgust in the pit of your stomach, you shot him a glare.

”None of your business. Besides, I have a boyfriend”, you retorted, gripping the glass as you stood between the people behind you and the man towering over you. He didn’t look like the kind of guy who got rejected a lot, which was enough to let you know it was going to be an ordeal to get rid of him. If only you could catch sight of your friends.

”Well, I don’t see him here. What he don’t know won’t hurt him”, he countered, and with great discomfort pushing on your chest, you tried to sneak away from him. He stopped you, though, a tight hold wrapping around your wrist, and panic started to make way within your veins.

You refused to let him toy with you any longer, and so, you snatched your hand away from him and forcefully pushed through the crowd. Relief flooded you when you got away from him, but it was a short-lived victory, as a bout of dizziness smacked you in the head, and you staggered. Trying your best not to lose your balance, you held your head in one hand and your drink in the other, but it was no easy task, especially when your vision began to blur.

Changing direction, you headed for the bathroom, but as you glanced over your shoulder, you spotted the stranger following you. You hoped it was just your impaired sight playing games with you, but when you stumbled and your drink flew from your hands, you realized he must have slipped something in it. Fear rose in your throat and you picked up the pace, clumsily making your way to the bathroom and slamming the door shut behind you, making sure to lock it.

As soon as you felt like you were safe, he started banging on the door and cursing at you. ”Open up, you bitch!” he shouted through the wood, and with your eyes brimming with tears, you shakily dug your phone from your purse. You were scared the door was going to give in, even more scared that you’d pass out from whatever he had drugged you with, but with all the strength you could muster, you did the one thing you knew was a good idea — call Frank.

Your hands trembled as you held your phone up to your ear and waited to hear Frank’s voice, your eyes squeezed shut while you drew in shallow breaths. You leaned against the door, your heart running a million miles as you waited and waited until, finally, he picked up.

”Sweetheart? You there?” Frank’s voice crackled through, and stifling a terrified sob, you ran your fingers through your hair.

”I’m sorry—I know you’re out doing your thing but I’m so scared, I—I lost my friends and some guy started bothering me and I think he put something in my drink—”, you began explaining with your wavering voice, only for a bang on the bathroom door to cut you off, your sharp inhale filling the space where your words hung. Momentarily, you tried to pull yourself together but there was no denying the crack in your voice when you continued. ”I hid in the bathroom. Please hurry”, you whimpered, the fear in your voice evident.

”I’m on my way, baby. Stay on the line, yeah? Can you do that f’me?” he spoke, hoping his steady voice would give you something to hang onto, something to ground you. When you responded, he made an approving noise. ”That’s my girl. I’m leavin’ right now, okay? I’ll be there soon”, he promised, and finding immense hope in his words, you swallowed and wiped your tears away. Your head was spinning and you could feel yourself slipping in and out of awareness, time passing even without you fully acknowledging it.

”You whore!” the stranger yelled through the door, loud enough for Frank to hear through the call, only making him more furious. He was keeping his rage at bay for your sake, knowing that his uncontrolled temper wouldn’t do much to comfort you, but he was seething. The asshole who had done this to you was surely going to pay the price, and Frank was going to enjoy every second of it.

”It’s gonna be alright, sweet girl. Don’t worry, ’m almost there”, Frank swore, growing more concerned when you didn’t respond. You were starting to find it impossible to stand, and so, you wound up sitting on the closed toilet lid, your face buried in one of your hands while the other one tried to balance the phone against your ear.

Soon enough, Frank spotted the neon sign of the club and he swerved to the side of the street, hastily parking before jumping out of the truck. With his blood boiling at the mental image of what he’d find inside, he hung up the phone and stomped into the club with his heavy boots, the sleeves of his shirt already rolled up as he looked for the bathroom.

The banging and shouting alerted him in the right direction, and with his fists aching to punch and hurt and break, he strode straight to the man bothering you from the other side of the door. Clenching his jaw, he yanked the guy away from the door by his shoulder, a cold stare in his dark eyes.

”Get the fuck out”, he spoke calmly, the kind of calm that was far more threatening than any shout ever could have been. His voice was dripping with sheer anger, and yet, the man faced him with an unimpressed look.

”Or what?” he chuckled, and without hesitating to show him exactly what he had signed himself up for, Frank grabbed him by the neck and threw him into the wall hard enough for his nose to crack. The man collapsed on the ground with a cry, gaining some attention from the people around but not enough for anyone to actually care.

”Get out”, Frank repeated with just an inch more effort, and this time, it worked. The man scrambled up to both feet and rushed through the crowd, running away to make sure he wouldn’t end up on the Punisher’s kill list — of course, he had already made it there. As if anyone would get away with hurting Frank’s girl.

When he was left alone, Frank took in a deep breath and leaned against the door. ”Hey. Ya in there, sweetheart?” he questioned quietly, all scariness gone from his soft voice as he glanced at his boots and waited for your answer.

You couldn’t describe the relief you felt when you heard him. For a moment, you couldn’t tell if it was real, your head making it hard to focus on anything, but Frank kept talking, confirming for you that he was right there.

”It’s safe out here. Wanna come out or can I come in?” he continued, patiently waiting for you.

Carefully, you got up from the toilet seat and wobbled to the door, unlocking it and letting Frank in. He peeked in only to find you hugging yourself with puffy eyes and red cheeks, and with a sigh, he stepped inside fully. He was delicate as he reached over to you, brushing a thumb across your face.

”All right? He touch you?” he queried gruffly, fearing your answer, but when you shook your head, he welcomed relief. His deep eyes met yours as he lowered his head to be on your level, and he radiated safety and comfort and warmth, and it was enough for you to break.

You stepped closer and clung onto him in a desperate hug, shaking in his arms. ”Thank you for coming”, you whispered, and with his arms folding around your body tightly, he nodded.

”Of course. You call, I’m there. Always”, he stated simply before kissing the top of your head. You stayed like that for a moment, but finally, he pulled away and took your hand. ”C’mere, let’s go home”, he suggested, undeniably worried by your state. It was obvious you had ingested something you shouldn’t have, and even though you were safe with him now, he couldn’t help but consider the worst case scenario. He cared for you so much, it was like the thought of anything happening to you caused him physical pain. He didn’t always have the words to tell you how much he loved you, but he was sure as hell going to show you.

He took you home where he made you drink water and helped you undress before tucking you into bed. He knew you needed the rest, and it didn’t take you long to drift off to sleep, giving him time to plot how he was going to find the man who had hurt you and, in return, hurt him. He didn’t play around when it came to your safety and well-being, and that was a lesson he was going to teach the asshole who had drugged you.

For tonight, his plans were just that — plans. He wasn’t going to leave your side, and he wanted you to know as much, and so, he climbed into bed with you. He couldn’t

sleep, though, far too preoccupied worrying about you and watching over you.

As he tenderly stroked your cheek, you stirred awake, and he opened his mouth to apologize but the words got stuck in his throat while he gazed down at your flawless face. You were so beautiful and he felt so lucky to have you, even if that meant fighting off everyone else.

”Feelin’ better?” he asked quietly, his rough voice so gentle with you, and breaking into a smile, you nodded.

”Thank you, Frankie. I love you so much”, you whispered softly, causing the smallest of smiles to bloom on his face. He leaned down to kiss you, his large hand holding your chin as his lips met yours, and it took your breath away. He always knew how to send your heart flying, and it made your smile widen as you wrapped an arm around his neck. ”My hero”, you added quietly when the kiss broke, earning a snort from Frank.

”I’m no hero. But I’ll always come for you, pretty girl. I love you, yeah? There ain’t a thing in the world I wouldn’t do for you”, he vowed, and as he kissed you again, you knew he meant every word.

[lexirosewrites]

Hey I’m the person that did the asmr/twitch steddie last time, and while I’m nervous to be off anon, I feel like you deserve nice things so I hope this one’s okay and that you enjoy it! Also I am not a good writer so please excuse any grammatical mistakes <3

Nerdy omega Steve that isn’t nerdy in the tech sense or even the book sense. No, Steve loves antiques and oddities to the point that he knows an absurd amount of history and facts about different eras from his research. It’s something he’s always been able to easily hide from the rest of the pack considering it’s not something that really comes up. The only one who even slightly knows is Robin, but even she isn’t privy to the extent of his interests. So when basically everyone has left Hawkins besides himself and Wayne, Steve decided that Roan county could use their own oddities and antique shop. He has more money he could ever imagine with the government payouts, so why not do something he’s actually interested in. This turns into him asking Wayne if he’d like to work at the store so that someone can be there while he’s out collecting and curating items for the shop.

Years go by and the store is actually really popular at this point, like hear about it in Chicago popular. Which is exactly how Eddie and Robin, who decided to live together in the Windy City, hear of it. They haven’t been back to Hawkins since they left, with Steve and Wayne coming out to visit them instead every time. Now however they are too intrigued to not make the visit, so on a whim they road trip back for the weekend, and to see if the rumors of a mysterious shop with an elusive and spellbinding omega owner are true. What a shock they get when they pull up to see Wayne sitting at the counter through the window reading a book. Despite their disbelief and quick work to get inside, the two alphas are floored when they finally walk into the shop. It’s absolutely beautiful, like it came out of a museum but without the stuffy feeling of one. And the smell, god the smell was so good, like old books, vanilla cinnamon with a hint of citrus. The smell definitely wasn’t Wayne’s calming soft lavender beta scent, but his scent also paired well with the other scents in the room. Amusement glinted in Wayne’s eyes only for him to start out right cackling at their faces when Steve comes out of the back dressed like an omega from the 1800’s.

Wearing a beautiful butter yellow floor length skirt his hair now grown out and pinned up, glasses askew on his face, Steve is too preoccupied with the small jar in his hands to realize his friends presence right away. After placing his jar, Steve finally glances up to see what’s got Wayne in such a state only to be so outwardly pleased that the smell in the room doubles. Eddie having been completely unaware of Steve’s designation is gobsmacked; Steve wearing blockers and his lack of talking about a heat or rut had him assuming he was just a beta. (Not that he wouldn’t have dated him either way but most betas prefer to stay with betas so he just assumed there would be no point). They spend the rest of their weekend trip getting filled in on all the ins and outs of the shop, how much of a success it’s been and how on the way Steve may have accidentally become the most sought after omega in the county. This seems to be a big hit on the head for Eddie making him rethink his hometown all together. Soon enough plans are made for him to start his own tattoo shop in Muncie now that he’s been in the industry for a few years.

After moving back and spending all of his extra time together with Steve and Wayne, Eddie finally gets the guts to ask Steve to court him. But of course he can’t do it like any other shlub, no it’s gotta be special. So he prepares and plans as close as possible to a historically accurate courting, the gifts, the gestures, the chaperoning, absolutely everything is tailored for Steve. Of course Steve was already head over heels for Eddie, but this was just the icing on top of it all. It takes a full year for the courtship to end. Which it does spectacularly, with a fantasy themed bonding ceremony in the spring. They are as happy as could be and both exited to finally start building their own little (it won’t be little but don’t tell them) pack together.

-💖🦇

oh this is so cute!!!🥺💕 steve and his dorky hyperfixation becoming his life and eddie happy to partake in order to be the alpha he deserves!! this is so beautiful, thank you for sharing with us!