#i hope you enjoy this! *pass tissue paper*

[gomzdrawfr]

alrighty....angst Ghoap comic ahead, you've been warned :]

cw: angst, depiction of mental health (spiraling and breaking down)

ଘ(੭ ᐛ )━⁺˚⋆｡°✩ reblogs are appreciated

Enough

:3c notes below (feel free to skip)

[megalony]

Meet My Family

This is an Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. Let me know what you think.

I'd love to do a follow up or two if anyone would be interested.

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Evan Buckley Masterlist

Part 2

Summary: Evan has been waiting for the right time to introduce the team to his family. But when his son is ill and he has to leave shift early, he tells the team about his family. (Autistic! son)

Enjoy.

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A shudder tore down Evan's spine and tingled throughout his arms when his son screamed.

It didn't matter how many times Evan had heard Rowan scream or make similar screeching, high-pitch noises, each one always cut through him.

With his lips rolled together, Evan tried again to reach for the shirt on the bed that he needed so he could get dressed ready for work. But Rowan moved faster. Despite the crackling coughs passing the five year old's lips, he took a dive and grabbed the shirt next to him on the bed, pinning it to his chest.

Evan took a deep breath before he crouched down on his knees at the foot of the bed so he was level with his boy. He watched Rowan tilt his head to the side, snuffling and huffing into the shirt he was cuddling like it was one of his many toys.

"Please." He kept his tone gentle and held his hand out, but Rowan wasn't agreeable today. Evan rose a brow and moved to tap the logo on the shirt that had the fire station name and number sewn into the crest. "Daddy's going to work. I gotta get dressed." He tapped the crest again before pointing to himself, but all he got was a sad scream that twisted into a cry at the end.

He knew Rowan knew what he was saying, or at least what he was trying to convey to him.

Evan was an expert on Rowan's different noises by now, he had to be. Noises were a way Rowan communicated because he couldn't speak, so Evan and (Y/n) had learned to decipher which ones were happy, which ones meant he was in pain and what sounds were angry or frightened.

Right now he was both in pain and angry. He didn't want Evan to go to work. Rowan didn't know what to do when he wasn't well, he knew he wasn't going to school because Evan hadn't gotten him into his school uniform and that meant his routine was disrupted.

A barking cough left Rowan's lips which made his chest sound like it was made of tissue paper that was ripping and crinkling apart. He pinned Evan's shirt to his chest and Evan sighed before he reached out.

He lifted Rowan up off the bed and let him snuggle against his chest. Since the moment he was born, Rowan had been a cuddler. Nothing couldn't be solved by a cuddle and it was something Evan loved about him.

Evan knew a few of the other parents from Rowan's school and he knew half of the kids there didn't like physical contact as much as Rowan. Some of the kids couldn't handle cuddles or long hugs or interacting with their families. If Rowan had been like that, it would physically kill Evan. He was so, so relieved that every day he got to pick his son up and lather him with kisses and hold him and show him he was loved.

And cuddles were a way for Rowan to express himself. He couldn't speak, (Y/n) and Evan were never going to hear their son tell them he loved them, but at least he could show it through touch and contact.

Rowan's birth had been a horrid experience that resulted in him not breathing for the first few seconds of his life and caused brain damage.

And when he was two and a half, after noticing little patterns and different behaviours in Rowan, added to the fact that he hadn't learned to speak, they ended up getting an autistic diagnosis.

He was non-verbal, granted Rowan could make noises, he made lots of sounds. He loved to click his tongue and make a noise that always reminded Evan of the Crazy Frog. And Rowan could scream, he would belt out a scream if he was angry or make a squeal if he was happy, but he couldn't say any words.

That meant it was sometimes hard to figure out if Rowan was in pain or the reasons why he was upset. They only knew Rowan was ill yesterday because he had a temperature and he was coughing and screaming. They were starting to use picture cards with him, but it was a slow process. They wanted to teach him to point to a picture to show them if he was in pain, such as if he had a tummy ache he could point and show them. At the moment, they used pictures for him to point out where he wanted to go.

And they had a picture board depicting what they did each day to try and help him have some control and sense of understanding.

"Alright buddy, alright."

He felt Rowan snuggle down against him until his head was tucked beneath Evan's chin and his arms loosely draped around Evan's neck, leaving the shirt hanging over his back, tightly gripped in his son's hand.

Tipping his head down, Evan kissed the top of Rowan's matching curls and smoothed a hand up and down his back as his other arm wrapped across his legs to keep him perched on his chest. He kept him snuggled close and kept kissing his head while he turned to leave the bedroom. There was no point arguing like this, Evan was just going to have to go about his morning routine and show Rowan that he would be leaving for work soon.

Rowan had been glued to both parents all night because he had a horrid chesty cough and Evan was sure he was going to start throwing up soon. He couldn't sleep and therefore Evan hadn't managed to sleep much either, most of the night was spent laid up in bed with Rowan on his chest.

Evan slowly made his way downstairs and padded through into the kitchen where he knew (Y/n) was because he could hear the radio humming softly through the air. He bounced Rowan a bit higher on his chest and continued to kiss the top of his head as he wandered past the kitchen table towards (Y/n).

His eyes instantly landed on (Y/n) and a soft smile flooded his face as he approached her. She was wearing a pair of leggings, mostly covered by one of Evan's long button up shirts which hung off (Y/n)'s frame since it was about two sizes too big, but she still made it look good. Her hair was pinned back and despite the tired look in her eyes, just looking at her made Evan smile.

"Morning sweetheart," Evan walked over to (Y/n) and stood behind her, curving his right arm around her waist while his left arm kept Rowan in place against his chest.

His fingers feathered up and down her waist and he took the time to kiss the top of her head while (Y/n) leaned her head back on his shoulder so she could smile up at him.

He pecked her temple again and reached his arm up from her waist to rattle through the medicine cupboard above her. All medicines had to be in high cupboards so Rowan couldn't get hold of them, he had a tendency to grab anything and stick it in his mouth. All the cleaning products were in the top cupboard above the counter because Rowan had tried to eat the wash liquid. It was either put them high up or get locks for the cupboards.

Evan grabbed the Calpol and the thermometer, grinning when he felt (Y/n) twist her head to the side so she could press her lips against his neck and graze her teeth over his skin. Not enough to mark him up for work, but just enough to make a red scratch worm onto his skin.

"Morning… you get hot or something?" (Y/n) did a quick sweep up and down his frame, wondering why he was wearing everything but his shirt. He didn't usually walk about in trousers but no shirt, it was more usual to see Evan either fully dressed or simply in his pants, there wasn't an inbetween.

"Someone's got my shirt." His eyes drifted down to the person in his arm who had gone quiet all of a sudden. He couldn't even feel Rowan humming or making his usual clicking sound which meant he was either tired or feeling unwell, possibly both.

Ducking his head down, Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s until she got the hint and lifted her head up to meet him halfway. His nose nudged her cheek and his lips smothered hers, stealing a kiss that took all the air from (Y/n)'s lungs.

She groaned against his lips which gave Evan the chance to slide his tongue past her lips to tango with hers. He could feel her hand gliding across his chest, her nails leaving just the slightest scratch into his skin to wind him up and she gasped into his mouth when his hand holding the medicine bottle swatted down against her bum.

At least Rowan never seemed to mind whenever Evan wanted to steal a kiss from (Y/n) or when he curled around her and laid with her. They could hug and kiss and be intimate without Rowan making a fuss or getting protective or whining like most other kids would do.

"He's flushed." (Y/n) whispered against Evan's lips when she felt Rowan pressing up between them.

She pulled back from Evan's tempting lips so she could kiss Rowan's forehead which was hot and slightly sweaty. He was probably going to run a fever soon if he wasn't already.

"Alright buddy, let's take a look at you," Evan turned around to face the kitchen island and gently sat Rowan down on the counter.

He noticed Rowan's breathing was slightly crackly but he wasn't snuffling like he had a cold. The five year old's gaze seemed to be focused on the tattoo on Evan's left shoulder, he didn't understand them or what they were, but he seemed to love staring at them.

He cuddled Evan's shirt to his chest and stayed unusually still while Evan kissed his temple and tried to listen to his breathing.

He hadn't been well yesterday either, but he still went to school because he wasn't lethargic and he was active enough to go. But during the afternoon and into the evening his coughing got worse and he was clearly sick today.

"Okay, ready? Be brave, just like daddy."

Evan turned on the thermometer and pressed it into his own ear so Rowan could see it wasn't something that would hurt him. The five year old was a menace at the doctors. He wouldn't let them look in his ears, his mouth, if they touched him he screamed and vaccinations were the worst. He wouldn't let any of the teachers give vaccinations at school so Evan always made sure he had the day off and they got his vaccinations at the doctors.

One of them, usually Evan, had to pin Rowan to their chest while the other talked to him and held his hand so the doctor could inject him.

Once it was done, Evan held the thermometer out to Rowan. The young boy shook his head and made a discontent noise and when Evan pushed it in his ear, he screamed and tried to hit Evan's arm. It gave Evan the chance to snatch his shirt from his son and toss it somewhere behind him to be put on later.

"Done, all done." Evan placed it out the way so it couldn't be weaponised since Rowan was now upset. "Thirty-nine point four, he's got a fever."

"Great." (Y/n) murmured defeatedly and when she passed him, she leaned over to kiss Evan's shoulder. At least Rowan was up and active and making noises. If he was lethargic they would have cause for concern, and his fever wasn't too high or in the danger zone yet which was a relief. He would be okay for now, (Y/n) would keep an eye on him.

Evan held the Calpol out on a spoon which Rowan happily accepted. The good thing about him was that he didn't complain about medicine. He took anything given to him whether it was a liquid or a tablet or a cough sweet, but it usually had to be liquid. Rowan didn't understand that some tablets couldn't be chewed, he would chew any he was given.

Reaching out for him, Evan gently lifted him up and set him down to his feet so he could trot over to (Y/n). He swiftly pulled open the bottom drawer where he knew all his cups and beakers were kept and held a beaker out to (Y/n), his way of asking for a drink.

"Rowan, buddy, look." Evan tugged his shirt over his head and tucked it into his pants before he reached out for his son's hand.

He gently tugged until Rowan finally looked at where he was pointing. The whiteboard stuck on the fridge.

It was their now and next board. They printed pictures such as food, drinks, places like the park and cinema or school, and stuck them on the board so Rowan knew what was happening or so he could pick what he wanted to do.

Evan took the picture of himself and moved it to the bottom of the board, leaving Rowan and (Y/n)'s pictures up on the top. That told Rowan Evan was leaving.

"Daddy going to work, you can watch movies with mummy." He put the picture of the tv up on the board but he winced when Rowan stomped his foot. At first, they weren't sure Rowan actually understood any of the pictures or what they were trying to show him, but his reactions told them different.

And just last week, Rowan had noticed that Evan wasn't in the house when he woke up, and he trotted into the kitchen and took Evan's picture off the board all by himself. He stuck it at the bottom of the whiteboard where there was a building to signify Evan going to work. (Y/n) cried when she watched him.

It proved they had a way of communicating and that Rowan was understanding them and what was going on around him.

A rumbling, whining sound left Rowan's lips before he grabbed Evan's picture and moved it up next to the tv. Evan sighed, biting his lip as he shook his head and pointed to his shirt before he slowly moved his picture again.

"No, daddy's going to work."

Evan pressed his hand over the picture so Rowan couldn't try and move it again and it caused Rowan to scream. He tried to pull on Evan's hand, but when he realised his dad wasn't going to budge or listen, he stomped his feet and began to cry.

His cries ended in broken coughs as he flopped down to sit on the floor, his version of a tantrum. He continued to cry but his hands batted out in front of him and Evan wasn't sure what he wanted until Rowan finally grabbed his hand. He held his dad's hand, still crying, and just kept squeezing for a while. Evan didn't know if Rowan was asking for comfort or if he was just trying to convey how upset and sick he felt, but Evan stayed still and let him get it out of his system.

"Baby, here's your drink, look." (Y/n) leaned over him, kissing his forehead as she held his beaker in front of him.

She waited for him to take it but Evan reacted quicker, he could see what the five year old was about to do. When Rowan went to smack the drink away, Evan took it first.

"Fine, daddy will drink it then."

Rowan was stumped. He stopped crying, tears still running down his face and his chest heaving, but he stopped making any noise. He watched Evan take the beaker and take a sip and that was enough to snap Rowan out of his tantrum.

He pushed up and took the beaker from Evan as if his dad should know that he was not allowed to do that. And he flopped forward into Evan's chest, seeking a hug while he calmed down enough to have a drink.

"If you need anything today just call me, okay?" Evan looked across at (Y/n) and his expression softened when she held out a cup of coffee towards him. She knew he would need one now to wake him up for the drive to the station and then he would have another one as soon as he got to work.

"We might need another tub of strawberries." (Y/n) leant her hip against the counter, her eyes practically melting as she looked over at her boys.

Rowan had a thing for fruit. (Y/n)'s lockscreen on her phone was of Rowan and Evan at the local farm picking strawberries. All the ones Rowan picked went straight in his mouth, and the same could be said for Evan. For every strawberry Evan put in his punnet, he also put one in his mouth.

It was a routine for Rowan to have them at breakfast and they were almost out.

(Y/n) watched Evan nod with a smile and her eyes followed him as he scooped Rowan up from the floor and walked over to her until he was close enough for her arms to bind around. Keeping her and their boy pinned against his chest until it was time for him to go. He didn't like leaving them, especially when one of them wasn't well.

***

"What're we eating, I'm starving." Evan clapped his hands together and leaned over the counter to grab the plates from the cupboard. He was sure in any moment his stomach was going to growl as if to prove his point.

"You're always hungry."He huffed and took a glance over his shoulder at Hen as she passed him to sit at the table.

He couldn't really disagree with that. Evan was always hungry, but he was always on the go. When everyone else at the station could relax and sit down between calls, Evan was restocking the trucks and mopping the floors and tidying up. He couldn't sit still. He worked out a lot in the gym every single day. He was always on the move; he had every right to be hungry every minute of the day when each minute was accounted for.

He set the plates around the table and took his usual seat next to Bobby once the Captain set down a bowl of carbonara in the middle of the table.

Evan couldn't help but zone out of the conversation as he began to eat. His mind was wandering again.

He couldn't help but think back to this morning and how Rowan had thrown another tantrum when Evan tried to walk out the door. He screamed until he started coughing and then he threw up his breakfast. Moments like that made Evan hate having a job. He never wanted to leave (Y/n) or Rowan and when he did long shifts, it upset Rowan.

It was starting to bug Evan to the point he was contemplating asking Bobby if he could go on twelve hour shifts. He didn't mind doing the usual mix of days and nights, but pulling long double shifts wasn't good for Rowan.

"I think that girl on the last call had the hots for you, Buck." Hen wiggled her brows and pointed her fork at him while he felt Eddie nudge him in the side.

"She was a cook, you'd get along great in the kitchen." Eddie piped in and pointed at the food.

A soft smirk filtered across Evan's lips and he flashed his teeth before he shook his head and took a bite of his food. He didn't need to find anyone, he already had a girl waiting back home for him. And he wouldn't get along great in the kitchen with that woman on their call this morning, she seemed bossy and if Evan was bossed around in the kitchen, he got snappy.

"Ah, I don't need a sous chef, thanks."

The team didn't know about Evan's family.

As he took another bite of his lunch, Evan couldn't help but move his free hand towards the chain dangling around his neck. His fingers traced the silver links and wandered beneath his cotton shirt to the wedding ring that was a small but comfortably weight against his chest, right near his heart.

He didn't like wearing the ring on his finger, not in this line of work. Evan couldn't risk losing his ring and he didn't want the constant battle of scrubbing his hands and cleaning his ring whenever he got his hands dirty in this job. Plus, Evan was an accident prone in this job. He knew if he went unconscious at the hospital and he needed a scan or an X-ray, they would cut his ring if they couldn't slide it off his finger. He wasn't taking that risk. Having it hung on a chain was safer and made him feel better and protected.

Evan had been meaning to tell the team about his family, but he hadn't found the right time. He wanted to introduce everyone soon, properly. He had waited to make sure this job stuck, that this team was truly like a family before he opened up the most precious thing he had to them.

It was Rowan Evan was thinking of. It took him a while to get used to new people and Evan didn't want to get Rowan used to them just for this job to go sideways or in case something happened within the team. And Evan had to make sure that everyone would be understanding.

He'd had his fair share of fights with people who had made rude comments about his son or people who dismissed him. Evan had to make sure none of the team were like that before he opened up.

Just as they were all finished and Evan collected the empty plates, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He shuffled the plates into one hand, slowing down so he didn't drop them while he fished his phone out his pocket.

'Babe <3'

The air disappeared from Evan's lungs and he hurriedly dumped the plates in the sink before he spun on his heels. He weaved past Chimney and Hen, throwing them a cautious smile so they didn't try and ask what he was doing or why he was staring at his phone like that with his jaw slack.

"Hey baby, everything okay?" It didn't matter how many times Evan told (Y/n) she could and should ring him at work if something was wrong, she barely did.

She would text him, send him pictures and let him know if Rowan was okay or if something was wrong, but she didn't usually ring him. "Hey, I- I didn't wanna ring you but… babe I might need some help."

That alone was enough to put Evan on edge. He could hear the panic in his wife's voice and it sent his heart lurching up into his throat. He took a few steps away from the kitchen until he was leaning over the railing. His back and bum arched out behind him and his elbows dug down into the metal railing as he tried to control his breathing.

"Why, what's happened?"

"His temperature spiked, and he was coughing so much he wasn't breathing properly. The doctor said to come down to the hospital s-so we're at the emergency room. Evan he won't calm down, he knows where we are, I don't think he's gonna let the doctor anywhere near him. C-can you come down?"

She hated to ask, but (Y/n) needed help and that thought alone sent Evan reeling.

He should have stayed home. He shouldn't have come into work, he should have stayed when he saw that Rowan had a fever this morning.

He knew Rowan hated the doctors and the few times he had been into the emergency room hadn't been pretty. Rowan didn't cooperate, he got frightened and nervous and if strangers tried to touch him he would scream and have a meltdown. Added to the fact that he didn't feel well was a recipe for disaster.

"I'll talk to Bobby and come straight down, okay? Try to keep him calm and wait outside for me if you have to, I won't be long baby I promise."

"Thank you."

Evan raked his fingers through his hair and spun on his heels, scouting round to look for Bobby. He saw Bobby sat at the table, nursing a steaming cup of tea, sat chatting to Chimney about something that was clearly amusing since they were both laughing.

He began tapping his phone against his thigh as he headed over and stood at Bobby's side, gingerly tapping his shoulder. "Can we talk?" Evan dipped his head to the side to silently plead that he wanted a word in private.

He could see the concern pooling in Bobby's eyes but the Captain nodded nonetheless. He set down his cup, nodded at Chimney and got up to follow Evan towards the stairs. Clearly something had to be wrong if Evan didn't want to talk in front of the team.

"What's up… is something going on?"

"I…" He didn't know how to word this. He hadn't told any of them about his family, none of them even knew he was married. Let alone that he had a son.

He sighed, tapping his phone against the palm of his hand as he fidgeted his weight from one foot to the other. He had to do this, he had to go because it wouldn't be fair to (Y/n) or Rowan to leave them both at the hospital without him. Rowan was going to have a meltdown, he would be scared out of his wits and if they had to take him for a scan or give him any kind of shot or IV, (Y/n) would have to pin him down. Evan had to be there with her.

"Bobby, I don't wanna ask, but I… I have a family emergency, I need to go to the hospital. Can I go? I'll make up the overtime I swear."

"Is everything okay?" He wasn't pushing or prying, he was testing the waters. Testing whether Evan felt comfortable enough to open up and tell him what was going on.

He sighed and looked down at his phone and when he unlocked it, he showed his homescreen to Bobby. Evan's favourite picture; the three of them when they were at the beach and the five year old had the cheesiest grin on his face. Rowan had such a lovely smile and his laugh was like music to Evan's ears, but it was hard to capture his smile in a picture, he seemed to sense the camera and stopped smiling immediately.

Which was why Evan loved the picture, it had been the first selfie he took of the three of them where Rowan continued to laugh. Evan had (Y/n) laid between his legs and Rowan stood up in her arms, leant back against her chest, his head tossed back in the brightest smile Evan had ever seen.

"My boy, Rowan. He's in the emergency room, he's not been well but he's got brain damage, he… he doesn't like doctors, I need to be there to help calm him down."

He could see the wave of emotions rushing across Bobby's hazel eyes. Surprise, confusion, revelation, happiness and then panic. All together, all at once. All for Evan.

"Go. Don't worry about the overtime, as long as you message me and let me know everything's okay and how he is. And I wanna know everything about them when you're back."

Relief had never taken hold of Evan so much as it did in that moment. He could feel his knees close to giving way beneath him and before he could stop himself, he pushed forward and looped his arms around Bobby's neck. He reeled his Captain in for a hug that took him by surprise, but caused a quiet laugh to rumble Bobby's chest.

"Thank you." Sincerity clung to Evan's voice and he felt Bobby pat his shoulder before he spun and bolted for the stairs.

He had to go grab his bag and keys and make his way down to the hospital. He had to go get to his family.

It didn't take him long to get there and Evan pulled up in the closest space he could find, barely locking the jeep before he was bolting down the path towards the emergency room.

His body turned to the right, aiming for the reception desk, ignoring the waiting room that was oddly full for lunchtime on a weekday. He knew the protocol, they would see that Rowan was autistic and they would try and get him seen to first. And if Evan couldn't hear his son then he wasn't in the waiting room, he would be in one of the assessment rooms with a doctor.

"I'm here for Rowan Buckley, my wife brought him in about twenty minutes ago."

"Buckley… he's in cubicle three, straight down the corridor, I'll buzz you in."

Evan sighed and mumbled his thanks before he bolted through the door as soon as the receptionist pressed the button, allowing Evan through into the assessment ward.

He couldn't contain the relief he felt as his knees shook and he bolted over to his family once the room was within his sight.

(Y/n) was stood in the middle of the room, next to the bed that Rowan was sat on. She had her arms around his middle, letting him lean back into her chest while she kissed the top of his head. But as soon as Rowan looked up, something sparkled in his eyes and he started his round of screeching noises that sounded similar to 'mememe' over and over.

"Hey buddy, hey I'm here." Evan crouched down in front of the bed and let Rowan push forward into his arms.

He could feel Rowan's crackling breaths in his neck and his usual murmurs and noises faded into sharp breaths. He'd never heard Rowan so out of breath before. Rowan could usually make noises over and over without looking like he was breathing, he even hummed as he ate sometimes. Hearing him so out of breath and feeling the way he clung to Evan made him want to cry.

"How is he?" Evan let Rowan tuck into his chest and he kissed his hair before he looked up at (Y/n).

"They think it's pneumonia, I asked them to wait for you, they wanna do bloods and an X-ray, he's not gonna like that."

A groan burned at the back of Evan's throat and he tilted his head down, burrowing his nose and lips into Rowan's curls for a few moments to try and gather some strength and courage from somewhere. Rowan wasn't good with needles, he wouldn't be okay with them taking bloods from him and an X-ray was going to frighten the life out of him. Evan had had more than his fair share during his teenage years.

(Y/n) moved round the other side of the bed and perched down next to Rowan while she reached down for Evan. Her fingers feathered along his neck and across his shoulder and she managed a soft smile when Evan leaned his head on her thigh.

They stayed like that for a few moments until the door opened and the nurse who had seen them earlier walked back in along with a doctor.

Nurse Janey had been very sweet with Rowan and he had been calm enough to let her take his temperature, but he wouldn't let her do anything else.

They had all been very understanding whereas some people, even health professionals, weren't considerate with Rowan. (Y/n) had walked out of a doctor's appointment before when the GP sighed and tutted at Rowan as if he could control the way he felt or the noises he made and he hadn't understood why Rowan wouldn't sit still or cooperate.

This room was a children's assessment room, clearly. Evan took note of the flowers and clouds painted onto the walls and the few toys in the corner of the room to help kids concentrate and feel calm.

"I take it this is dad?" Janey placed a clipboard down on the table and smiled at Evan when he stood up and nodded. He kept an arm around Rowan's shoulders, letting his boy lean against his leg while he coughed and rocked back and forth on the bed.

"I'm Frida, I'd like to check Rowan over and then take some bloods. I know that won't be easy, but if we can get this confirmed as pneumonia, we can get him on antibiotics and hopefully send you all home."

The doctor walked over to the three of them and wheeled a stool over so she could sit in front of Rowan. She removed the stethoscope from her neck and placed it in her ears, looking between both parents for their approval before looking down at Rowan.

"I need to listen to his breathing."

She tried to move the stethoscope near Rowan's back, but he wasn't impressed. He leaned back into (Y/n), pushing back when she tried to lean him forwards and as soon as the doctor's hand was near him, he smacked her hand away.

"Rowan no, don't do that." Evan held his hand and sat down next to him on the bed while (Y/n) kept hold of his waist and tilted him forwards.

A low grumble whined past his lips and he mixed between coughing and something like a growl when the stethoscope pressed down on his back. He shimmied his shoulders from side to side, trying his best to get away but he was surprised when the doctor pulled away after a minute. He clearly assumed every test was going to hurt.

"Okay, blood pressure next. This doesn't hurt, sweetheart." Her smile was calming, but she could see the five year old didn't trust or understand her.

His head tilted to the side and a perplexed look filled his curious yet weary eyes when he looked at the black band that was moving suspiciously near his arm. He let Evan lift his arm up but when the band went around his wrist, he screamed and flung both arms out, shuffling back into (Y/n).

"Baby it's okay," (Y/n) soothed, kissing his temple as she leaned into the bed to cuddle Rowan, but he shook his head from side to side and kept screaming in protest. His arms flapped at his sides like a bird trying to take flight and Evan dragged his hand across his chin. He wished he could show Rowan it wouldn't hurt and that he was safe, but words weren't going to do that.

"If he'd feel safer with you doing it, that's fine." Frida held the blood pressure cuff out to Evan when she clocked the logo on his shirt.

He knew what he was doing and Rowan was his boy, he would trust Evan not to hurt him.

"Buddy, look. Safe, see, it's okay." Evan slipped his arm through the cuff and strapped it around his forearm to show Rowan it wasn't something to hurt. He kept tapping it until Rowan reached out to skim his fingers across the material, and then Evan tapped his shirt. It was like a piece of clothing.

Part of him felt bad. He knew once the band tightened around Rowan's arm, his son was going to lose trust in him. He was going to have a fit and scream and become angry that Evan had lied to him because that tightening feeling would resonate as pain for Rowan. But they needed to make sure he was okay and the more tests Rowan had, the more he would become used to them.

They had to get him used to hospitals for the future, for any other illness or problems he had. He had to know that this was to make him better.

"Daddy's doing it, see?" (Y/n) murmured against his ear and she lifted Rowan up to sit him on her lap.

He coughed and made his usual mumbling sound, but he stopped fighting when Evan slid the band around his arm and strapped it around.

The way Rowan looked between Evan and the band had Evan's heart picking up and he felt like he was going to be sick once he turned the machine on.

(Y/n) looped both arms around Rowan's waist, her eyes locked with her husband as he shuffled closer until their knees were touching. She shivered, pulling in on herself when a shrill scream left Rowan's lips. His right hand immediately moved towards the band and his breathing turned into escalated, shallow huffs as he began to panic.

He dug his fingers into the band and tried to wrench it off until Evan held his hand, but he flung his arm out, trying his best to hit Evan or (Y/n) or anyone he could reach. He didn't like it. They were hurting him. They were scaring him.

He continued to scream until he didn't have any air left and his shoulders bashed into (Y/n)'s chest as he wriggled from side to side, trying to shimmy his way off her lap.

"Shh, baby it's okay. Almost done, almost done baby."

"Buddy, look at daddy. It's okay." Evan kissed the palm of Rowan's hand before he pressed Rowan's hand against his cheek. He leaned closer until their noses were touching, something Rowan loved doing almost as if it was his way of giving kisses to those he loved.

Their eyes locked for a few seconds and Rowan paused his screams and slowed down his wriggling attempts to break free. Evan knew his boy had to be calm or the blood pressure reading would be sky high and it wouldn't be accurate. He had to calm down to get the most accurate reading so they knew if he was okay or if his blood pressure was high before he began to panic.

"All done."

As soon as the band was unstrapped from his arm, Rowan let out a frustrated scream and slapped his hands down on his legs as he shook back and forth like he was telling them he wasn't impressed.

"What's the best way to take bloods? I'd assume he won't like his arm being held behind his back?"

For some children, they would get them to have their arms pinned against their back so they couldn't see the needle. But Doctor Frida guessed that would only send Rowan into a further state of panic which they didn't want to do. But they needed to take bloods, and it would be best to do that now rather than have to get a specialist to come down to put him under anaesthetic which would only upset Rowan all over again.

Evan looked across at (Y/n), both of them sharing a look before Evan reached out for him. They were going to have to restrain him. It was the only way Rowan would let them do anything.

"What we did for the vaccines?" Evan muttered, to which (Y/n) nodded. They had formed a routine for his vaccines which had worked well, only giving Evan minimal bruises afterwards.

Shuffling back, Evan sat up on the centre of the bed and spread his legs. Once he patted his thighs, Rowan immediately crawled over to sit with him. Evan spun him round so Rowan was sat with his back against his dad's chest and he smiled when (Y/n) shuffled closer next to his thigh.

Evan deadlocked his left arm around Rowan's torso, pressed his lips against his head and pinned his right arm over his son's chest right across his collar bone. He made sure he wasn't holding too tight, but just enough so Rowan wasn't going to be able to get out of his hold.

"Hands please." (Y/n) smiled and held her hands out to Rowan, waiting patiently for him to place his palms in hers and squeeze.

"Quickly."

Evan's marching order was heeded and understood.

The doctor placed a tie strap around Rowan's right arm just above his elbow which made him frown, but he didn't move. As soon as his eyes locked on the needle, he was pushing back into Evan's chest like it would make a difference or allow him to escape.

(Y/n) held his hands tightly, trying not to hurt or bruise him and she pulled on his arms so they stayed straight and he couldn't hit out at them.

Once the needle was in his arm, Rowan screamed.

It was a horrid sound that mixed with the tears that began to stream down his face. He gasped, drawing in another gulp of air that he used to belt out another scream. His feet began to lift and swat down against the bed until Evan lifted his right leg and looped it on top of his son's legs, pinning them down to the bed.

Evan braced his chest but he gasped when Rowan slammed his head back into his chest. It was enough to wind him and he knew he would be bruised later, but he held strong and tensed up into Rowan. This was for his own good and it wouldn't hurt for long.

"Shh, buddy it's okay."

"Brave boy, you're doing so good." (Y/n) kissed the back of his hands but she bit down on her lip when Rowan screamed and tried to scratch her wrists. His nails pierced her skin deep enough to draw blood and he shook her arms until she pinned his arms down into Evan's thighs. He couldn't do that or he would move the needle imbedded into his elbow. They couldn't have him ripping a vein and getting blood everywhere, that would be extreme pain that Rowan wouldn't be able to cope with.

The doctor murmured "Almost there," as she switched the vile for another one. They had all agreed to do as many tests as they could, to make sure everything else was alright. They wanted to test for any infections other than pneumonia and make sure Rowan wasn't lacking any vitamins and blood tests would check his organs like his liver and kidney function.

It was safer to do more tests since Rowan couldn't tell them if he was in pain or if anything was wrong. This would keep him safe and healthy.

"Shit! Rowan- Rowan don't do that!"

Evan growled, closing his eyes and tipping his head back when Rowan sank his teeth down into Evan's forearm.

He'd never done that before.

He had hit, slapped and kicked both parents before when he was frightened or in a meltdown, but he had never bitten either of them. But Evan's arm was across the top of his chest. It was pinning him down, preventing him from moving. It was right there and with his legs pinned down and (Y/n) holding his arms, the only way Rowan could express his fright was to bite down on the arm beneath his chin.

"Rowan no!" (Y/n) fumbled to hold his hands in one so she could reach out for his chin. She wriggled his jaw and leaned closer to make him relent, if he locked his jaw he would bite Evan hard enough to draw blood and they didn't want that.

"Done."

The doctor was quick to pull away from the situation and as soon as she did, Evan loosened his grip. He held his arms out at his sides and moved his legs, letting Rowan scuttle from his arms and flop onto (Y/n)'s lap instead.

He screamed into (Y/n)'s knees, bashing his fists into her legs as he curled up over her lap, shaking and silently asking for comfort.

"Are you okay?" She looked across at Evan and shuffled closer while she lifted Rowan up and settled him on her chest so his head was on her shoulder.

Her eyes focused on Evan as he shook his wrist to get some feeling back but he let her reach out for his arm. He skimmed her fingers over the teeth marks in his forearm and cringed. He was going to have a large bruise there in a few hours, and those indents were sharp enough to draw blood wheels beneath the skin.

"That hurt more than a tattoo." Evan muttered under his breath, but there was no malice or annoyance in his tone. He understood Rowan's fright and seeing Rowan curl into (Y/n) told them he knew he had done wrong.

A bite mark was worth it when it meant making sure Rowan was going to be okay. It was more than worth it.

***

"Cap… you're here." Surprise flooded Evan's voice but he couldn't help the way his lips curved up into a smile when he looked down the corridor.

They were all here.

His team had come down to the hospital to see him- to see his family. They didn't have to do this. They had all done a long shift, they should be heading home to their own families and relaxing before their next shift. They didn't have to come down here and check on him.

"We don't wanna intrude, but you didn't call."

"We just want to know if everything's okay." Hen stuffed her hand in her back pocket and jutted one hip out to the side.

She still couldn't quite believe that Buck had his own little family. She pegged him as being in a relationship by the way he didn't talk about going on dates or meeting anyone and every time someone on a call asked him on a date, he just blushed and kindly turned them down.

And there was something natural and loving about the way Evan was with all the kids when they were out on a call. He knew how to calm them down and talk to them and get to their level, but no one guessed he had a wife and child hidden away at home.

"Cap said you've got a boy, why didn't you say anything? You know him and Chris will probably hit it off, right?" Eddie nudged Evan's arm and gave his shoulder a tap before he looked around, trying to guess which room held Evan's family.

It had been a long time since Eddie had been down in the children's ward of any hospital. He forgot how bright and colourful everything was here.

"I just wanted to find the right time to introduce you all… Rowan can get attached but, not everyone can understand him." It may take Rowan a while to get used to new people, but once he did, he loved them completely. Evan had to be sure the team could understand him and more importantly, be willing to take the time to learn his ways, before he introduced them.

"Is he okay?"

"Pneumonia, but he's on antibiotics, and he takes after me with his appetite, so he's gonna be fine. We can head home in the morning."

Rowan had no problems taking the liquid antibiotics the nurse brought round every few hours. And he had eaten all the dinner they gave him and he tried to take Evan's dinner too which showed he was feeling better.

He had taken a powdered inhaler, mainly because he thought it was a toy, and his breathing was evening out.

The only thing the nurses couldn't do was give him an IV drip or an oxygen clip in his nose. But they were satisfied that Rowan was drinking enough of the shakes and juices they gave him so he didn't need an IV. Once he was cleared in the morning, he would be going home with a weeks supply of antibiotics.

"Oh, Buck that's great." Bobby nodded and his smile was full of relief. He had been on edge all afternoon since Evan left. He just wanted to know everything was okay.

It made sense, all the pieces clicked into place after Evan left. His little ways, his habits, his nervousness about wanting to go home or when something seemed off. It all made sense when Bobby understood who Evan had waiting for him at home, and he wanted to check on Evan before he went home so he didn't have to worry all night.

"Do you wanna come and say hi?" Evan pointed behind him at the room he had been ready to enter before the team walked down the corridor. He had gone for a coffee for him and (Y/n) while Rowan was settled.

"You sure?"

"Come and meet my family." Evan opened the door and pushed in before anyone could give it a second thought.

He knew the team were going to be his second family from now on and he wanted them all to meet and get along. If they could love and embrace his wife and son like they welcomed him into their family, everything would be fine.

[rainydayathogwarts]

something cute with neville please? like an awkward crush moment in class?

Kiss and Tell - Neville Longbottom

Also I didn't make this an in class thing but yas... Gryffindor!Reader

You knew Neville liked you. So did all your friends. In fact, pretty much everyone who crossed paths with you or Neville knew he liked you. But for his sake, such as your own, you never mentioned it, instead enjoying the attention he gave you and giving him soft smiles before quickly turning away from him so he couldn't see you internally panic, all your blood rushing to your face.

Despite both being Gryffindors though, you almost never encountered each other in the common room, often being separated by your different friend groups, or spending the night differently. It just so happened that on nights you had Quidditch practice, Neville would be in the common room, but when you were free, he was no where in sight. Thus, when you stumbled down to the common room late at night to finish your herbology essay, you were shocked to see Neville, sitting by the fireplace with his friends.

Other than the group of dorm mates laughing quietly, the common room was mostly empty, excluding a few 7th year students who widely intimidated you. You rushed to the long table next to the bookshelves, searching for the herbology book you'd purposefully left there the night before in hopes of encouraging you to get your work done. You had been unsuccessful. Finally laying your eyes on the thick textbook, you sighed, slumping down on one of the heavy, uncomfortable, wooden chairs at the very corner of the table.

Rubbing at your temples, you predicted how the night would go; you'd sloppily write one paragraph before your eyes would start to wander around, another hour passing by before you'd realise that you hadn't written enough for a full essay, but would half-ass a conclusion anyway so you could at least submit something. Oh, well. You scoffed at yourself, picking up your quill. This is unsurprising. After writing about a paragraph and a half, you're essentially copying down the words from the textbook blindly, leaning your head on your free hand.

"Y/N?" Your head snaps up and you inhale deeply, realising you'd zoned out as Neville begins to apologise for disturbing you. "No, no- Neville it's fine, really." You watch as he pulls a chair out at the head of the table and he catches your eye, pausing his movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't ask. Do you mind? If I sit?" His cheeks are rosy and you try to stop yourself from smiling, but you feel the tug at the corner of your lips nonetheless. "No, sit, Neville. Please." As he sits, you can't help but glance back at where he was sat with his friends, and notice them all staring straight at you. They definitely put Neville up to this, you register, as they all abruptly turn away from you, realising you'd caught them.

"Herbology?" Your head snaps back at Neville, nodding at his words. "Do you- well, do you need help?" You shake your head at him, pushing the paper aside. "No. I'm done with herbology for the night. Forever, actually." You both laugh at your words, and duck your heads away from each other, avoiding eye contact. You reach for your open ink bottle at the same time Neville does, pushing it towards you. You're too busy staring at where your fingers touch to grasp the fact that some of the ink has splattered out.

And suddenly, Neville's hand is pulling away from yours and he's panicking, and he's apologising and trying to find napkins. You're sat still during all of this, only perking up when Neville scurries back with tissues, leaning over you to wipe the ink off the table in front of you. He's close to you. So close you can smell his cologne. One of his hands grasps the back of your chair as he bends over slightly to clean the dark wood. You look up at him, admiring the way his usually neat hair falls into his face, mustering the courage to place your hand over his, immediately putting a halt to his movements.

"Neville. It's okay." You begin to stand, and he steps back so you're free to do so. When he tries stepping back further to give you space, you reach your hands out to grab the hem of the sleeves of his navy jumper. You step closer to him so your chests are nearly touching and lean in slightly. You hesitate, giving him enough time to pull away if he wanted to, but he doesn't. Moving one of your hands up to his shoulder, you lean in close enough to graze your lips against his lightly before fully pressing them against his.

The kiss is short. You pull away to watch his reaction, but don't get to take a glimpse at his face because he's grabbing you by the hips and tugging so you're completely pressed up against his body, your lips meeting his once more. This kiss is longer. Both your arms come up to his shoulders this time, one hand playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck. You feel his goosebumps on your fingertips, letting him pull away from you, panting heavily. You smile, one of your hands coming back to your face to wipe some saliva off your bottom lip.

Neville is smiling broadly, his face nearly as red as his dorm mate's hair. He makes eye contact with you, but you can see him struggle to maintain it. Your hand snakes into his, and only then do you hear the cheers from beside the fireplace coming from his friends. "Um, I - Go out with me?" Even though he's staring at his shoes now, you giggle, leaning over one last time to kiss him on the cheek. Whilst still close to him, you whisper "I'd love to." Before releasing your hand from his and beginning to leave, only to remember your things on the table.

You're too giddy to feel embarrassed about having to turn back around to grab your stuff, running up to your dorm once you're done, and slamming the door behind you. You freeze, afraid to have woken up your dorm mates, but when three heads poke out from the curtains around Lavender's bed, you realise the only thing you interrupted was a gossip session.

Throwing your books on your bed, you trip over your feet running to join them, a story of your own to tell.

A/N: To everyone reading this fic who follows me, I'm so sorry I haven't posted in FOREVER. I have been so busy with everything, but I'm on holiday and will write as many things as I can. Love from mina xx

[wonton4rang]

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i love u 3000 ¡!

pairing: sungho x reader.

warnings: +18, smut, fluff, some angst maybe, kissing.

summary: short scenarios of firsts with sungho.

note: this will be a series!! hope u all enjoy<33 find the others here as i make them (woonhak and sungho done)

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first encounter: idk if it would be at a cafe or at the gym but I'll go for the cafe because i feel like he would be too into his workout to actually pay attention to his surroundings and see you. so he'd be thinking what to order, looking up at the menu while he stood in the line, you were in front of him and he didn't even see your face but the way you smelled and the way your voice said "i want a caramel macchiato, please, with no sugar" was enough for him to feel as if the sweetness you opted out surrounded him instead and he melt right into it, following you with his eyes when you left the line and yours meeting his when everyone kept telling him to move forward in the line. he finally came to his senses and you laughed at his little blush due to the shame. you can know for sure he would ask to sit with you and launch a conversation about how he zoned out before, ending with your number in his pocket, wrote down on a paper tissue and a huge smile in his face while he walked down the street.

first time he realises he's in love; honestly he knew from the beginning that he liked you, the way he would look for you in his contact list just to see your profile picture setting him up, even if it was the same one. he would even "mistakenly" call you at least twice a week just so he could hear your voice and ultimately your laugh when you said "was this really a mistake, sungho-ssi" and he just went silent before you added "you can call me if you wanna talk, i don't mind" bet. cause he would call you everyday just to ask how you were doing and if there was anything that you may need so he could get it for you. the first day you guys went out was when he finally realized he kinda liked you a little bit more than he expected, looking at you with such a lover eyes that the old people passing by your side kept saying "he loves you so much, don't break his heart". an indirect confession i guess.

how would he confess; kinda obvious (at least for me) but he is wearing the best clothes on his closet, his hair done perfectly, that soft perfume you loved all over his body and that smile on his face only growing bigger when he handed you the bucket of flowers, "what is this, sungho?" , "i would like to ask you out, if you let me. i promise to make you nothing but happy if you allow me" it sounded like a marriage proposal but that's just how serious he was. you said yes, why would you say no? it was sungho and his pretty foxy eyes waiting for your response, the boy who never had an excuse when you needed him and the one who cared for you the most, y'all already looked like you were dating to begin with so now it was just official!!

officially dating w sungho; something i know for sure is that he is such a domestic boyfriend :(( you could find him helping out with the chores at YOUR apartment, doing the dishes and even the laundry while you slept during the morning. he would hold your hand at any moment, hug you while walking on the streets during winter time even if it was uncomfortable, tell you how grateful he was by having you. he would remember all your anniversaries and bring you flowers each time, every time being a different one just so he could tell you the meaning and how much he loved you and hoped for more anniversaries to come. i think he'd also be the type to introduce you to his friends and his family as he sees your relationship as a long-term one.

first kiss; idk why i feel it'd happen at one of your guy's house, like, you are laying down on bed, just cuddling and talking your day, your head resting on his chest and his arm hugging you, giving you the warmth the weather lacked. you were so comfortable with him that even looking up and being so close was not awkward, that's why you did it when he went silent for a few seconds.

"what are you thinking about?" you would mumble and he lowered his eyes to meet yours, making you blush when he just smiled a little bit before saying:

"you"

"i am right here, what were you thinking?"

"about how cute you are, how much i love you and how lucky of man i am to have you and had met you in this life"

"honey... i love you too" you softly giggled and he blushed after saying all that cheesy stuff, you removing the hand from his face and matching his eyes, feeling his breath hitch when his eyes dropped to your lips.

and he really didn't have to ask, he just leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours, you both closing your eyes and shifting in the bed so he was on top of you, between your legs while he softly caressed your cheeks, staying like that for a little while before pulling out and looking into each other's eyes, gosh you guys are so in love :(

first time he wanted to do more than just a peck; it would happen during a movie night, you always got together at your place to wach a movie or a short serie on fridays, buying some junk food when neither you or sungho wanted to cook. you would sit in your couch, your leg between sungho's and one of his hands on your thigh while you payed attention to whatever was playing on the tv, but when you constantly feel him moving below your leg, his hand making some pressure in the uncovered flesh of your thigh, you had to look at him.

"everything good, babe?"

"yes... i'm just... you know"

"no, i don't" you said, pausing the tv and removing your leg from his lap so you could sit properly and look at him. "is something going on?" he just denied with his head but by the way he lowered his head, his cheeks flushed and his hands held that cushion in front of his pants you knew what was going on. "can i kiss you then?" his eyes met yours again. "i wanna kiss you"

but sungho really didn't want to seem like a pervert right now so he would try to say no just to end up with you straddled on his lap, kissing him with hunger and circling your hips on his erection, his tongue would get into your mouth and he'll take control from then on, his hands guiding the pace and movement of your hips by holding down on them. a few moans would escape his lips and tbh he couldn't be more ashamed to be making out w u for the first time due to a boner. but oh well, it was not going to be the last time either.

first time meeting your family; when i say "sungho domestic boyfriend" I mean it!! he would be so excited to finally meet your parents, you met his a few months ago so he couldn't wait to meet the people who gave birth to the love of his life :( he would bring food and help your mom cook it, asking about your childhood and making a few jokes when your mom got too emotional about you being all grown up. i feel like your dad would love him even if they don't have much to talk about, he would see his good intentions and the kind and lovely vibe he gave would make both of your parents love him sm !! i can personally see him calling your mom every mother's day, and your dad too on every father's day, sending them flowers and a present for their birthdays too. he is just such a family boy to me ;(

first time w sungho; when i pictured this i almost got an overdose of sugar fr fr. he would be so loving, so caring, so soft about it, i don't even see him using dirty talk (at least not for the first time). he would worship your body so much that it would make you feel shy yet so good you couldn't explain the mixture of feelings, his kisses would be long and wet, his hips rocking against yours during missionary (because yes, he would fuck you in missionary 99% of the time) and his hands holding your wrists pinned down to the bed on each side of your bed. "you look so pretty, y/n, you feel so good" would be something he would say when he left your lips for a second, looking into your eyes before smiling a little bit about how into you he was (pun intended). he would also be the type to softly moan in your ear and intertwine his fingers with yours while fucking you so good :(( and i also see him using his tongue to make you shiver, could be by kissing you or by playing with your ear.

overall, sungho is a good boy, he is mature and very loving, he seeks honesty and stability so if he ever falls for you, have in mind that he would like to be with you for as long as he can. he is a funny person too, making jokes to enlighten the mood when needed but also knows when to remain silent. his mood wouldn't have huge swings and i don't think he would be one to argue or be jealous. (he could get jealous tho but he'll let you know about it before it gets uncomfortable)

commitment wise he is a 10/10, his full attention is on you when you need him, i think he wouldn't cheat and he is such a lover boy :') but he would expect the same back so if you lack he would feel a little sad too.

so if you are looking for a long-term, marriage oriented and responsible, respectful, honest yet funny relationship, sungho is definitely your pick !!

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also, can we talk about those pictures of him???? he looks so pretty, dazzling, cute yet hot asf?? make it make sense, he can't be a gym bro and look that good 😭😭

[littlesubbyflower]

Changing Locks

Toxic!Eddie Munson X AFAB!Reader

2.7K Words

TW: Angst, Toxic!Eddie, toxic relationship

A/N :: Hey y’all, here I am projecting again lmao. Enjoy! If you enjoyed, please like and reblog!

Divider by @saradika-graphics

Everyone always assumed your relationship with Eddie Munson was perfect. Resident freak turned nice for the good girl, but it was far from what everyone in the halls at school or in the isles at the grocery store. 

Sure, everyone saw you two cozied up in the cafeteria, or his arm thrown over your shoulders in the hallways, or his hand on your thigh when he sat next to you in shared classes, but no one saw the explosive arguments, they never saw the death glares or the pleading and begging, only to be met with false promises and disappointment. 

You woke up today thinking that everything would be okay, that you would have a good day. 

Today, Eddie was supposed to spend the day with you, after a busy week of gigs and an afternoon's long D&D session from the day before. The day had been planned out last week, it consisted of breakfast at your favorite spot, a day drive to Indianapolis to check out this new record shop and to stop by your favorite bookstore, grab lunch if you felt like, before coming home to spend the remainder of your day watching movies together.

Except none of that happened. After you showered, dried your hair and applied makeup, you still hadn’t heard from Eddie. Which seemed a bit unusual but you shrugged it off at first. Maybe he was still sleeping, maybe his phone was dead, or a last minute thing with his Uncle Wayne came up. 

You knew he had a bad habit of getting distracted most times due to his unmedicated adult ADHD, so you were crossing your fingers in hopes it was just that. To pass the time, you pick up one of your comfort books while you wait for him to message or call you. Before opening the book, you glance at the time on your watch which read 9:36 am

Sighing deeply and opening the book, you begin reading.  

After turning endless pages, tossing and turning to get comfortable, and a snack later, you close the novel, you glance at your watch again, this time, the time read 1:57 pm. 

Puzzled, you pick up your phone again to make sure you hadn’t missed any calls or messages and to your disdain, there were none. You decided to finally message Eddie.

You: Hey Eddie! I was just popping in to make sure that you were okay? Haven’t heard from you today and I’m starting to get worried. 

You press send, only to watch it go from ‘Delivered’  straight to ‘Read 1:58 PM’ Your heart pounded in your chest, hoping for some kind of reply, but it never came. Time ticked by for 15 agonizing minutes before you sent another message. 

You: We are still on for our plans today, right?

‘Delivered’ 

A nine letter word that has taunted you the last eight months of your relationship with Eddie. 

A nine letter word that has caused so many arguments, so many sleepless nights, and has seen so many empty promises and declarations to change, but they never happen. 

You roll your eyes and lock your phone, tossing it onto the bed next to you before looking up at the ceiling when the all too familiar feeling of tears starts pricking at your lash line. 

“This mascara is too expensive to cry off. This mascara is too expensive to cry off. This mascara is too expensive to cry off.” You repeat the mantra to yourself, fanning at your face with your hands. 

Closing your eyes and sighing deeply, you just sit, waiting for something. 

There’s a knock at your bedroom door. 

“ ‘s open.” You day in a monotone voice. 

“Steve, you said she was supposed to be out with Eddie!” Robin whisper shouted at the boy with her.

“I told you to check the circle before we even drove over here!” Steve whispered back. “We’re already here, might as well give it to her.” He says, grabbing the doorknob and opening the door slowly. 

Robin walked into your room first, carrying a gift bag adorned with ribbons and glittering tissue paper, quickly shuffling over to you, and extending her arms, thrusting the bag into your personal space before giving you her signature grin. 

“Happy birthday, gorgeous!” She nearly shouted. Steve walks into the room right behind her. “This is from Steve and I, obviously!” 

You take the gift out of her outstretched arms and smile meekly. “Birthday? It isn’t my birthday?” 

Steve scoffs. “Okay, sure. Your best friend only turns 19 once, so we got you something, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” 

You look between the two puzzled, before it dawns on you what today’s date was. They must’ve seen the realization on your face before they both looked panicked. 

“I thought you were supposed to be with Eddie today?” Robin asked, trying to change the subject.

“I was, he hasn’t been answering, and I figured he was just… busy?”

Steve excuses himself from the room and you set the gift down. 

Grabbing your phone again, dialing Eddie’s number this time instead of trying to text him, you waited for the line to ring, and it did, three times before someone said “Stop bothering us, we’re busy” and there was yelling in the background before hanging up. 

A white hot flash of pain flashes through your chest and your throat feels tight and like it’s wrapped in barbed wire. You look up at Robin in shock, her blue eyes looking back at you with the same expression. 

You try his number again, hand shaking while putting the phone on speaker, trying to catch your breath. The line rings twice before someone picks it up. 

“Hey! We’re kind of busy right now with a session? Everything okay?” Dustin Henderson speaks into the phone. 

“S-session? I thought that was yesterday..”

“Eddie said he didn’t have anything important to do today, so we just picked up where we left off.” The younger boy confirmed. ‘Henderson, come ON, hang up the phone!’ someone shouted. ‘Wait, I’m talking to—’ ‘We know! She’s been blowing my shit up all day, I don’t care what she has to say, hang up and come back and finish this game!’ 

You heard Dustin sigh into the phone before speaking. “Well, I guess I should go… I’ll tell Eddie you called. Oh! Happy birthday, by the way!” He said before hanging up. 

The air feels like it’s been knocked out of your lungs. Suddenly, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. The air feels sticky and heavy, and the room starts spinning. 

Is this what betrayal feels like? Is this what having your heart ripped out of your chest feels like? You drop your head to look into your lap. 

This doesn’t feel real, it’s all a horrible dream and you’re going to wake up soon and it’ll all just be a dream.  Pinching your arm, realizing it wasn’t a dream, a sob escaped your throat and tears began falling, makeup be damned. 

You shouldn’t be surprised, but part of you is. Eddie promised you would spend today together. Weeks of rain checks and forgotten plans were supposed to be made up today. 

He didn't care what you had to say? The statement and the thought alone made your chest ache. 

You shake your head and let the tears fall freely now. Not only had your boyfriend lied to you, he broke several promises and now didn’t care about what you had to say? 

Robin sits next to you on your bed, pulling you into an awkward hug with her long limbs. 

Steve peeks back into the room through the cracked door and sees Robin’s arms wrapped around you as your shoulders rise and fall with the body wracking sobs coming from your chest. The gift the duo had gotten you was quickly forgotten about.

After Robin and Steve had gotten you calmed down, they had convinced you to let them treat you for a milkshake at least. 

“I know it’s not your favorite Italian place, but I can't just leave you at home to cry that way over him, honey.” Steve said, reaching his hand across the table to place it comfortingly across yours while Robin ordered a basket of fries and three different milkshakes. “Things haven’t been okay for a while, have they?” 

You slowly look up at Steve, shaking your head before you drop your eyes back to the table. 

“Why haven’t you come to one of us? You know that we’re always here for you.” Robin spoke as she slid into the booth next to Steve, dropping the basket of fries onto the table and sliding your milkshake glass to you, propping a foot up next to your thigh in the seat next to you, a comforting action, giving you space, but still touching you. 

“I just… wanted to handle everything on my own.” You sniffed out. “I—”

You’re cut off by the voice of Dustin and Lucas arguing over a piece of the campaign with Mike and Will trailing and talking over each other, Eddie, Gareth, Jeff and Doug following behind them. You sink lower into the booth, not wanting to be seen, which almost works. Jeff and Gareth wave to you as they go to their usual back corner booth and politely, you wave back. 

Steve gently clears his throat. “I can’t just… sit and watch you cry over him.” He gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and continues. “What’s been going on? Summarize and paraphrase if you have to.” 

“Oh gosh Steve,” you say sarcastically. “Hmm, where do I start? The lying? The broken promises or the declarations to change? Him blatantly ignoring me? The gaslighting? The manipulation? Or the fact that I know what he’s doing and I’m still stupid enough to hold on to that tiny sliver of hope that he’s actually going to do what he says?” You question, bringing your hands up to face to cover your eyes. 

Robin and Steve share a look. “If he’s hurting you this much, I see no point in staying.” Robin says carefully, shoving a few fries into her mouth and chewing. “It’s hurting you more to hold onto the broken pieces when all you need to do is just… let go.” 

“A-and I know that’s easier said than done, believe me.” Steve pipes up next. “This all has to be on your terms, honey. We can’t do this for you.” 

“I wish you could. Knowing myself, I would take it all back almost instantly. I would say how I didn't mean it, and that I’m the one who’s sorry.” You start crying into your hands. “Steve, what do they have that I don’t? Why can’t he just… pick me? What hobbies do I need to pick up? What things do I need to go out and buy for him to just want to be with me?” You cry harder, hiding your face in your hands. 

Steve nods and Robin slides out of the booth, allowing Steve to switch sides, pulling you into a protective hug as best as he could. Robin sits back down as Dustin leaves the hellfire table and slides in next to Robin, shoving a few fries into his mouth as he takes in the scene in front of him. 

“Henderson, get back over here!” Eddie called clear across the restaurant. Dustin’s eyes move back and forth between the Hellfire group and the sad scene happening right here. He silently gets up and goes back to the table where Eddie and the rest of the group was sitting. 

You hated this, it felt as if Eddie was forcing the younger boys to pick a side and that he may be holding their spots in the Hellfire Club over their heads. Taking a deep breath and uncovering your face, you slide your milkshake towards the center of the table. 

“Steve, can you take me back home?” You asked quietly. 

“Yeah, absolutely.” He said gently, unwrapping his arms from around you and slid out of the booth. He digs his wallet out and hands a $20 bill to Robin. 

“Meet you in the car, Robbie.” He says, holding his hand out to you so he can take you to the car. 

Robin thinks to herself for a moment, weighing the options out in her head. She could pay for their barely touched fries and wasted shakes and just leave, or she could give Eddie Munson a piece of her mind. She decides that the consequences might be worth it. She pays the meal ticket and grabs your untouched milkshake, making a beeline straight for the Hellfire table. 

Dustin and Lucas watch with wide eyes, Mike stops talking and turns to see the older girl stop right behind Eddie’s chair. 

“So Eddie, let me get this straight… not only have you been playing with my best friend’s feelings and breaking her heart, we’re suddenly ignoring birthdays and talking to people like they’re pieces of shit too?” Robin scoffs, Eddie completely turning around in his chair to look at her in shock. “Your girlfriend only turns 19 once and I refuse to let her sit and cry over.. over a worn out mophead like you!” Robin’s hands are shaking in anger. “You fumbled the best girl that has ever happened to you, and it’ll be such. sweet. revenge. seeing her with…” She trails off and smirks. “I’ll just save that for the polaroids.” 

Steve watches the scene unfold through the window of the diner while everyone inside watches with their jaws slack, not daring to speak up or even move to diffuse the situation. Steve knew Robin was a bit unpredictable so he decided to let her handle this her own way. 

Time slowed as Eddie tried to weakly defend himself, but the girl had already made up her mind. Robin took your untouched strawberry milkshake and dumped the entire cup over his head, its sugary contents streaking down his curls making them clump together and staining the white part of his shirt with streaks of red and pink. 

“By the way, your relationship with her, it’s. done. If I even see you so much as breathe in her direction, you’ll get more than a fucking milkshake over your head, got it?” 

The table’s collective gasps and Robin’s heavy breathing can be heard throughout the diner before she slams the cup down and stalks off, slinging the door open and stomping off to Steve’s car. 

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but Robin holds her hand up to silence him. 

“Do not start with me, Harrington.” Robin says. “Let’s just get her home.” 

Climbing into the back seat with you so you aren’t alone, Robin places her hand on your thigh in a comforting manner. 

“You didn’t have to dump the entire milkshake on him, Robbie.” You mumble quietly, leaning your head on her shoulder. “I’m glad you did though.” 

“Someone needs to put that asshole in his place, and Steve would’ve beaten him to a pulp… the milkshake was the next best thing.” 

“I still might.” Steve says, turning on the car and putting it into reverse and pulling out of the parking spot. “I’m debating.”

“I uh, also told him that your relationship is done. That was probably just a heat of the moment thing, but babe I cannot just-- just sit back and watch you cry over him like this.” Robin rambles, running her free hand up and down your side soothingly. 

“I know.” You mumble out. 

A silence falls over the car from the diner to your driveway, the occasional sound heard was a sniffle or two from you. 

Steve puts his car in park before turning around to look at you. 

“Are you going to be alright by yourself tonight?” He asks and you shrug. “We could stay if you wanted?” 

You shrug again. Robin and Steve share a look. “If you need us, you can always call.” Robin says. 

“Actually… Steve, you know how to change locks, right?” 

“Yeah I do, why?” 

You sit up a little straighter and take a deep breath. 

“I think I'm ready to find my inner peace, and it’ll start by changing the locks.” 

Steve looked at you and nodded. 

“Yeah honey, I’ll change the locks for you.”

Thanks for reading!! likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!

[reidingandwriting]

Lover (Steve Harrington’s Version)

Chapter Five: Lover

“I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all”

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Fem!Reader, mentions of pregnancy, mild language

A/N: This is the end of the Steve series, but I will be working on an Eddie series soon! Trying to decide where I want to put him but I had the most fun writing this one so I hope y’all enjoyed <3

Previous chapter

“Settle down, settle down,” Steve scolded while laughing. You and Steve had hosted Christmas at your house, your shared house. Steve couldn’t believe it. The two of you had a house together. Granted, it was a rental but still. You had a home. One that he could host holidays at, one decorated with Christmas lights and a beautiful Christmas tree that had piles of presents underneath. A Christmas record played loudly throughout the house, the house bustling with conversation and laughter.

You were so excited to have hosted the group; hot chocolate had been made for the teens (spiked for the adults) and you and Steve had made Christmas cookies the night before. Well, you made them. Steve was allowed to decorate while you baked. Steve cooked dinner as you cleaned, and you were braiding Max’s hair, talking to Nancy and Robin, while Max talked to El and Erica. You were a little off the last few days, and you were insistent that everything was perfect.

Even now, you seemed to be worried about something from the way you gnawed at your bottom lip. You finished braiding Max’s hair with a smile and then declared it was time to pass out presents. The group decided to do a Secret Santa type of exchange and as you settled into your spot beside Steve, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“Dustin, why don’t you and Lucas pass out the presents?” Steve suggested and the boys got up, quickly passing out gifts.

“Who’s first?” Robin asked and you paused for a moment.

“Erica, why don’t you go first? Then you can pick who’s next.” You smiled at the youngest member of the group and Erica nodded as she opened her present. Erica had been gifted a Dungeons & Dragons book and new dice from Dustin. Will was given a similar gift from Mike, Max received new cassettes for her Walkman, Dustin received one of Eddie’s old jackets and guitar pick necklaces (and Steve definitely didn’t get a little pouty about it).

By the end of gift giving, you were tucked into the blanket given to you by El and you turned to look at Max. You nodded at her and Max got up, rushing to your room.

“Where is she going?” Steve asked and you turned to face him.

“I have one other gift for you. And a gift for all the girls and the guys.” Steve studied you, noticing how nervous you looked.

“You okay?” Steve mouthed and you nodded, gently taking his hand in your own. Max came back a minute later, giving one box to Eddie, one to Nancy, and one to Steve.

“Make sure everyone can see,” you said as everyone gathered together. “Go ahead.” Everyone opened their gifts, Steve opening his rather quickly and freezing when he pulled away the tissue paper.

“Dingus? You okay-“ Robin paused as Nancy gasped. In Steve’s box, was a positive pregnancy test and a soft yellow onesie with a sonogram in the middle of the box. In the boys’ box, a red, black, and gray tie dyed onesie with ‘Uncles favorite dungeon master’ on the front. In the girls’ box, a pink onesie with ‘I have the best aunts ever’ on the front.

Everyone looked at Steve, waiting to see his reaction with bated breath. You felt more and more anxious the longer Steve went without talking, until you saw the tear slide down his cheek.

“We’re having a baby?” Steve whispered and you nodded. A beat of silence passed before he hugged you tight, and the room erupted with cheers and congratulations. Your shirt grew wet with tears, and you combed through his hair. You smiled when Steve’s gaze met yours, and you felt relieved when Steve smiled back at you.

“Wait, how come Max got to know first?” Robin whined and everyone laughed as Max stuck her tongue out at Robin.

“We were shopping a few weeks ago when I started feeling sick and the dots connected from there. I took, like, three tests and they were all positive. I freaked out and she helped me out.” You were properly panicking in the bathroom the day you found out you were pregnant, and Max had calmed you down.

“Steve’s, like, disgustingly in love with you. And he’s already such a dad, he’ll be so happy when he finds out you’re starting your own family.”

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Yeah, okay.”

“And you’re pretty good too. That baby would be lucky to have you as a mom,” Max’s gaze traveled to the floor and you smiled, hugging the teen close.

“And it’ll have the best aunts and uncles ever. Especially in my favorite teen,” you said and Max hugged you tighter.

“I think Harrington’s broken,” Eddie said and you turned to look at Steve, who admittedly did look like he was rebooting.

“Stevie,” you said and Steve’s eyes flickered up to meet yours. “Let’s go to the kitchen for a second.” You stood up and Steve followed. “Why don’t you pick out some movies?” You asked as you turned to the teens. “Get the living room nice and comfy for movie night? The extra blankets are in the hall closet.” Robin nodded, taking Nancy with her to gather supplies and you walked with Steve to the kitchen. “You’re kind of scaring me a little,” you said and Steve ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m a little scared,” Steve admitted. “I mean, you know how our parents were. I’m terrified I’m going to mess up. I’m terrified I’m going to screw up this kid.”

“I am too,” you said. You brought your hand to Steve’s face, gently tilting his chin so he looked at you. “Max literally had to talk me down from a meltdown. She seems to have more faith in us than we do.” You chuckled as you moved forward, burying your face in Steve’s chest. Steve wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on top of your head.

“We’re going to be parents.”

“We’re going to be parents,” you echoed and looked up at Steve. His brown eyes were flooded with emotions, concern being one of them, but hope being another one. Love being the main one you saw and you leaned up. Soft lips met your own, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers brushing against soft locks of hair.

“We should probably go check on the rest of them, they’re being too calm.” Steve said as he broke the kiss and you sighed dramatically.

“One of the girls would’ve snitched by now,” you said and Steve huffed out a laugh as he followed you back to the living room.

-

Steve looked around the living room, now late in the night. The teens were all asleep by this point. Eddie sprawled out in a chair, Nancy and Robin on the loveseat. You were curled into Steve’s side as you sat on the couch. The overhead lights were off, the living room only lit by the Christmas tree lights and the glow of the television that was ignored as everyone talked.

“Do you know how far along you are?” Nancy asked and you nodded.

“Eight weeks. By August, we’ll have our little one,” you said. August, holy shit. “Do not expect my heavily pregnant ass anywhere outside once June hits. Will not be getting all hot and sweaty, thank you.”

“This is so exciting. Coming up with baby names, decorating the nursery,” Robin said.

“Have any mother’s intuition on what it is?” Eddie asked. You paused for a minute, thinking but shook your head. “What about you, Harrington? Any guesses?”

“I’m feeling girl,” Steve said and you hummed in response.

“Considering right now it’s the size of a raspberry, we have a while to figure out what it’ll be.” You teased. “Whatever the little nugget is, it’s the luckiest baby ever with so many aunts and uncles.”

“So many babysitters,” Steve said and you laughed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever even held a baby,” Eddie said and you found yourself giggling.

“Me either, honestly. I’ll be a pro in the teenage years though after dealing with these hellions so long.” Robin snorted and you looked around.

You had the happiest smile on your face and Steve felt lighter than he had in ages. All of his worries just, melted away as he watched you and his friends interact. He never imagined he would have a life like this. Surrounded by friends who loved him just as hard as he loved them. A family he had made of his own, and now you, giving him a new addition to the family. He never imagined he would get the chance to have the life he always dreamed of, and he was determined to never let it go.

-

It was early the next morning, you and Steve cooking breakfast while everyone else continued to sleep. A pot of coffee brewed and you knew it wouldn’t be long before the smell roused Robin.

“It’s so pretty in there with the lights up. Feels more homey. We should leave them up for a few more days.” You said and Steve wrapped his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. You fed him a piece of bacon, and Steve relished in the way your nose scrunched up when he kissed your cheek.

“It’s our house. We can do whatever we want. We make the rules,” Steve said and you smiled up at him. “Just got the table set up. Saved you a seat.”

“Next to Robin?” You teased, giggling when Steve pouted at you. You both looked over when you heard the sounds of shuffling, greeted by Robin’s half awake body taking a seat at the table. “Speak of the devil.” You and Steve swapped places, him finishing up breakfast and starting to plate everything while you made Robin a cup of coffee. You slid the mug over to her, Robin humming her thanks as she took a sip.

“Wanna wake the rest of the heathens up?” Steve asked as he started to carry plates to the table, and you nodded. You ruffled Robin’s hair as you walked past her.

“You two are so domestic, it’s disgusting.” Robin said and Steve shot her an unamused look.

“Remind me how you and Nancy were sleeping last night?” Steve smirked as Robin blushed, quieting when the others walked in.

Everyone situated themselves at the large dining table and the kitchen bar, tired ‘thanks’ being given to you and Steve. You settled into your spot beside Steve, Dustin sitting on Steve’s other side while Max sat on your other side. Dustin pouted from his spot and you looked over at the curly haired teen. “What’s up, Dustin?”

“Max said I could sit by you!” Dustin whined and Max laid her head on your shoulder, and you didn’t have to look at her to imagine the smug smile on her face.

“You should’ve known, dude,” Steve said and Dustin glared at him.

“Children, children, calm down.” You tried to hide the amusement in your voice but based on the shit eating grin Eddie gave you, it wasn’t working. “Remember how we’re going to watch fireworks for New Year’s? Dustin, you and Max can sit beside me during the fireworks. And I’ll pick you up first.”

“Deal.” Dustin said triumphantly before he started to make his plate.

“When did you become his favorite?” Steve pouted and you laughed, making your own plate. You and Steve definitely had an interesting friend group, but you wouldn’t trade your family for the world.

And one warm night in late July, your family had a new addition. A daughter by the name Amelia Maxine Harrington. And it would be your little secret that it was Steve’s idea to include Max’s name as a part of your daughter’s. You may not have had the most loving home growing up, but you swore to Amelia that she’d know nothing but love and care as long as you and Steve were around. And with the help of her several aunts and uncles, you knew she’d be okay.

[flowerprincesscherryblossom]

bully me - chapter two

pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Female Reader word count: 2978 warnings: angst, smut, explicit language, bully kook, daddy dom kook, bathroom sex, dub-con, degradation kink, choking, breathplay, spanking, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie, dirty talk, dacryphilia series masterlist A/N: Hope you like it and that you have a wonderful day wherever you are💜

After your little adventure in the bathroom where Jungkook had fucked you hard, much to your surprise. In all the years you've known him, and by consequence suffered at his hands, you'd never imagined that being fucked against the bathroom stall wall would ever be on that list.

"Because now that I had a taste of you, I'm not letting go," he pinned you between the wall and his chest. "And besides," he got closer to your ear. "I have some interesting things that I know will make you so wet for me, and I can't wait to try them."

Your breath was caught in your throat at his words, feeling the familiar pang between your legs, a feeling that would have to be pushed to the back of your mind as both of you heard the bell ring seconds after.

Jungkook let go of you and pulled his phone out of his pants, paying you no mind.

Cautiously you stepped away and moved to the mirror, fixing your appearance as best you could, so you wouldn't look like you'd just had sex in the bathroom, before leaving for your class, leaving your bully behind.

As you took your seat, you pulled your skirt down a little bit, on the off-chance that some of Jungkook's cum would come out of you and you didn't want to stain the chair.

Your bully arrived five minutes into the class, ignoring all eyes on him as he took his seat, you crossed your legs, remembering the threat he had given you.

The class resumed as normal, or at least you tried, as you keep squirming in your seat due to the cum that you attempted to keep from leaking from inside of you.

Unfortunately, all that shimming had the opposite effect.

As inconspicuously as you could, you pulled a tissue paper out of your bag to clean up the mess that was starting to form in between your legs, scrunching the piece of paper and putting it back in your bag to throw it out after class.

A couple of seconds later you felt something hit you in the head, a scrunched-up paper ball from the looks of it.

You looked over your shoulder to see who the perpetrator was, even though you already had a pretty good guess on that, and found Jungkook staring at you, an arched eyebrow and an intimidating look in his eyes, in contrast, there was a smirk playing on his lips while signaling with his index finger for you to pick up the paper.

You did as told, thank God the paper was next to you, and as carefully as you could, in order to avoid getting caught by the teacher, you unfolded the paper and read Jungkook's message. "I saw that bitch. I told you to keep it in and not let my cum spill. You're such a bad girl for daddy. Just wait until I get my hands on you."

You gulped down at the words and cross your legs again, the message both terrifying and arousing you. You folded the paper and put it in your bag, avoiding taking so much as a glance in your bully's direction.

Class passed like a blur, despite your best attempts to pay attention, your mind was more focused on Jungkook and whatever he had in store for you, not to mention that you could feel his eyes on you through the class's entirety, making your concentration that much harder.

When the sound of the bell was heard every student packed their belongings and left the classroom, wanting to enjoy the recess before their next class.

All except for you and Jungkook, whose looming presence behind you made you fumble and take longer to gather your things.

A couple of seconds later you heard him sigh before he pushed you away, packing your bag and slinging it over the same shoulder his was before taking a hold of your wrist and dragging you with him.

You didn't know where he was taking you but the entire time, your eyes wouldn't leave the floor, not wanting to look at anyone, you knew that they looked at you with pity.

You didn't try to fight the strong grip he had on you, it would be pointless and he was sure to win.

You had long since accepted that, when it came to Jungkook, nobody would help you.

Last year he had bashed your head against a locker more forcefully than intended, if the way he had looked at you after was anything to go by, and even as you lay on the ground bleeding from your head, no students dared to intervene.

You almost bumped into his back when he stopped abruptly, you raised your head to see why he had stopped - the boys' bathroom.

Jungkook opened the door so harshly that it hit the wall, whoever had been in the bathroom had left at the sight of him, moving so fast you couldn't tell how many they were.

The bathroom wasn't any different than the girls' one - five stalls, five mirrors, five sinks. If not for the sign at the door, nobody would know they had walked into the wrong bathroom.

"Go to the middle one, hands on the sink and facing the mirror," your bully said in a commanding tone, letting go of you and dropping both bags by the door.

You did as you were told, sticking out your bum to him. After what had happened an hour ago and his message, you didn't need to be Einstein to know what was about to happen.

From the mirror image you could see him double-checking each stall, all the while, the thoughts in your head kept getting louder and louder.

Why were you doing this again? Was it even right to enjoy what he did to you? Jungkook made you wet but he also terrified you. When he had burst open the door and caught you playing with yourself, you were scared of what his next move would be, but that feeling had quickly been replaced by pleasure and desire, something he had delivered, and it been more amazing than anything you could've ever hoped for. Was it okay to enjoy such a thing from someone that had given you so much pain?

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you felt a hand tightly gripping one of your ass cheeks, making you let out a whimper. "Such a simple order," he spoke softly while squeezing your cheek before slapping it so hard you wouldn't be surprised if there was a handprint of him there. "And you're too stupid to even follow that."

Your bully kept spanking you, alternating between left and right cheek, each one stronger than the previous one. Your hands turning white from how strong you were gripping the sink, your bottom lip bleeding from how hard you were biting it to keep quiet, and your wetness running down your thighs, all while keeping your eyes on the mirror.

After the thirtieth slap Jungkook finally stopped and step away from you, creating a small distance between the panting messes the both of you were.

"Good girl," he pushed his hair back. "But we're not done yet," his hand pulled something out of his back pocket, and then he stepped closer to you. His chest against your back, pushing you to graze your chest against the sink, letting you feel his hard-clothed cock against your wet cunt, his lips next to your ear, his hand moving towards your face to show you what he had pulled out. "Remember this?"

Of course you did, they were yours to begin with. "Y-yes daddy," you kept your eyes on the mirror, locking eye contact with him. "They're m-my panties."

He chuckled, his deep tone going straight to your center. You didn't understand how someone who looked like an angel could be such a devil.

"So you do have a brain," his free ran down your body until it reached your sopping center, rubbing the wetness around your slit before thrusting two fingers into you, doing it as slowly as he possibly could, making you moan at the intrusion. "Do you know what I want you to do with them?"

He stopped his thrusts, the smirk on his lips growing wider. You thought back to what had happened between the both of you earlier, and that's when you knew what he meant, and you knew your bully had seen the realization in your eyes.

"Yes daddy," you opened your mouth and immediately he stuffed them inside.

"Smart girl," he backed away from you, inserted a third finger into you, and started trusting them again, doing it at a fast pace.

With your moans being muffled you were free to let them out without triggering Jungkook's anger.

You threw your head back, losing yourself in the pleasure, only for a sudden sting on your beet-red ass to pull you out of the moment, making you let out a scream before that same hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing it forcefully and forcing you to stare back at the mirror.

"Eyes on the mirror slut," he whispered in your ear, his eyes focused on your figure. You did as you were told, doing your best to keep your eyes open.

"Like a bitch in heat," your bully bit your ear. "Are you close cunt? Do you want to come all over daddy's fingers?"

You nodded rapidly, feeling like you were on the tip of your toes by the edge of a cliff. But before you could fall, he pulled his fingers out of your sopping center.

At your whine, and the stinging of tears in your eyes, Jungkook laughed at you. "Such a needy slut," he unbuckled his belt, pulling it out and tying it tightly around your neck, leaving one finger width between it and the belt. "So focused on yourself, you forgot all about daddy."

He pulled the belt roughly, forcing your head to bend backward and cutting off your breath, tears streamed freely down your face, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.

And yet, you wanted nothing more than for Jungkook to stick his large cock inside of you and make you his bitch.

He licked the teardrop that rolled down on the left side of your face, all the way until the tip of his tongue almost touched your eyeball, laughing at you afterward.

He pulled at the belt once again and whispered in your ear in his dark deep voice, his cheshire grin growing wider. "You're gonna be a good slut for daddy, aren't you?"

You nodded, starting to feel lightheaded at the lack of oxygen. At your confirmation, Jungkook let go of the tight pull he had on the belt, the sudden rush of air that filled your lungs causing your head to spin, so much so that you had to lower your head in hopes that it would help the dizziness pass.

Your bully pulled his length out of his pants, rubbing it against your dripping cunt and covering it in your juices, before slamming into you with such force that you had to steady yourself so you wouldn't hit the mirror.

"Eyes on the mirror whore," he commanded, dragging his cock completely out of you and pulling at the belt, bending you the way he wanted. He rammed into you again, his hips snapping you and causing yours to continuously hit against the sink due to his rough and fast pace. "F-fuck, how are you still so tight?"

Despite starting to get spots on your vision due to the lack of oxygen, you did your best to do what he wanted, the strong hold he had on the belt helping in fulfilling his order.

The sounds of lewd squelching, combined with Jungkook's breathy pants and your muffled moans, bounced off the walls and went straight into your pussy, feeling yourself reaching closer to your high with each thrust of his unrelenting pace.

With a stronger pull of the belt, he pulled you from your position, practically gluing your back to his chest.

As your walls clenched around his length, the hand that had previously been strangling you let go of the belt and moved towards your neck in a tight hold, angling your head so that you would be facing him, while his other hand moved towards your center, starting to rub figures on your clit.

With his teeth, Jungkook pulled your panties out and spit them to the sink. "You like taking daddy's fat cock slut?" the tip of his length continuously hit your cervix as he kept pounding into your cunt with rough and fast thrusts.

"Y- ah f-fuck, y-yes daddy, I love it," although with a hoarse voice, you said what he wanted to hear, for your attention was somewhere else. His face was so close to yours, both tips of your noses bumping into each other as each of you felt the other's breath. And for a second, you wondered what it would be like to kiss him. You were quick to dismiss the thought, you doubted he wanted that and your body was far preoccupied with something else. "D-Daddy, I-I'm close."

"Oh yeah?" he squeezed your throat, his pace faltering as he felt himself reaching his high. "Then cum. Cum all over daddy's cock. Be my obedient little whore." He started jackhammering into you. It was hard and wild, a quick and bruising pace as he worked on bringing you both to the finishing line, no doubt adding more marks to the ones he had already given you.

With a bite to your ear, you released all over him, drenching him in your juices, some of it reaching his pants due to your close proximity, his name falling from your lips loudly despite your sore throat.

As your walls trapped him inside and his thrusts became sloppier, his pace remained just as brutal, feeling himself close to his end.

"D-Daddy," you whined, having difficulty speaking. "D-Daddy, p-please cum i-inside."

At your words, Jungkook's eyes became darker and a wide grin appeared on his lips. "Yeah? You wanna be my little cum dumpster?" he was so close but choose to hold off for a bit, wanting to hear your words. "Answer me bitch, what are you to me?"

"I'm daddy's little cumslut," you answered without any hesitation, your eyes locked on his as you said it.

With a couple more hard thrusts your bully did as you wanted, releasing and painting your walls, making you let out a soft moan at the feeling.

As you both worked on catching your breaths, you leaned against the sink while Jungkook slowly pulled out of you and pulled his belt from your neck, pulling his pants up and fixing his appearance, looking like nothing had ever happened.

He took your panties from the sink and then crouched down behind you, fingering his cum back inside you and tapping your leg twice so you'd let him put on your underwear.

"Let's see if this time you're able to keep it inside," he stood up and walked towards your bags, pulling out a water bottle and your phone from yours before slinging both over his shoulder and making his way back to you.

"Unlock your phone," he said tossing it to you, which made you fumble a little so the piece of technology wouldn't fall to the ground and break. You did as told and in a flash, he replaced the phone with the bottle. "Drink."

You kept your eyes on him as you brought the bottle to your lips, and while having trouble swallowing the liquid, it did feel refreshing.

You glanced at the mirror beside you, bringing your hand to caress the mark around your neck, how the hell were you going to hide this?

You were pulled away from your thoughts at the sound of a ringtone, catching your bully pulling his phone out of his pocket and swiping to the left to stop the noise.

"What're you doing?" your voice cracked, the pain in your throat seeming to increase with each word spoken while your hoarse tone made you cringe.

"Getting your number," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "That way I don't have to throw fucking paper balls." 

"Why?"

"Jesus, you're really dumb aren't you?" he gave you a smirk. "Did daddy fuck you stupid baby? Is that it?"

To say you felt a little shock that the one you put you through so much pain suddenly called you baby would be an understatement.

Your eyes drifted to your feet, not knowing how to react. But Jungkook was having none of that, harshly gripping your chin and forcing you to stare at him.

"Since you lack a brain, I'll remind you," he caressed your bruised bottom lip with his thumb. "An hour ago I said I was going to take you to my house," he forced his finger inside of your mouth, and, despite the pain, you eagerly sucked on it as if your life depended on it. "Now that I have your number, I can tell you when and where to meet me after school without me going out of my way to find you," suddenly he pulled his thumb and walked towards the door. "Pay attention to it, you don't wanna know what I'll do to you if you miss anything from me."

With that, he left you all alone in the boys' bathroom, feeling slightly dumbstruck at everything that had happened.

However, you were quick to recover, fixing your appearance as best you could in a short amount of time, not wanting anyone to find you, before speeding out of the bathroom and to your next class.

[zesty4zenin]

“𝐈'𝐦 𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐧. . .”

YAN!FEM!SATORU GOJO X FEM!READER

Satoru keeps her promise of protecting you. Even if it’s not the way you expected.

this is loosely based off of gunjo..ifykyk

Warnings: murder, domestic violence

IT WAS a promise you and Satoru had made back in middle school, a simple pact that she used to think was silly and stupid.

Back then, your days were filled with laughter and innocent dreams. Satoru was always there by your side, her presence a constant source of comfort. The schoolyard was your kingdom, and the world seemed vast and full of possibilities.

Sitting together on a bench during lunch break, Satoru enjoyed her homemade meal while you unwrapped a sandwich from the school cafeteria. The sun filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows on the ground.

"Satoru," you called softly, capturing her attention as she took another bite. The sounds of other students' chatter and laughter filled the air, but at that moment, it was just the two of you.

"Yeah?" Her voice was playful yet warm, crumbs on her lips.

"Let's be together forever, okay? I want you to keep protecting me, like you always have, from the mean people. Promise?" You held out your pinky, a hopeful look in your eyes.

Satoru chuckled, swallowing her food. She knew you'd have to stand on your own eventually, but for now, she was content to humor you. The memory of all the times she had stood up for you flashed through her mind, each instance a testament to your bond.

"Alright, it's a promise, [Nickname]." She wrapped her slender pinky around yours, sealing the vow with a gentle squeeze. The warmth of her touch lingered, a promise that was stupid and silly to her.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

Stupid and silly.

A childish promise.

YEARS LATER..

Satoru sighed contentedly as she left the school where she worked, a satisfied smile on her face. Her students had behaved exceptionally well today, and she felt a sense of pride in their progress.

She took a sip of her soda, scrolling through her phone, mentally preparing herself for the stack of papers awaiting her attention. Hopefully, Suguru wasn't too occupied so they could—

Suddenly, she collided with someone, her drink splashing and staining their clothes. Satoru cursed softly under her breath, slipping her phone into her pocket as she looked up to see who she had bumped into.

Her eyes widened in surprise and a hint of something deeper when she realized it was you. Time hadn't changed much about your appearance from when you were young, and now you stood before her in a pretty dress, unfortunately now marked by her spilled soda.

"Oh, I'm sorry for bumping into you, miss! Forgive me," you apologized, bowing your head apologetically.

Satoru's initial irritation melted away as she took in your presence, a rush of memories flooding her mind. She quickly assessed the situation, noticing the soda stains on your dress.

"It's alright," she replied softly, a warm smile tugging at her lips. "Let me help clean that up." Satoru reached into her bag for a tissue, gently dabbing at the soda on your dress with a gentle touch.

"It's been a while," she remarked casually, though her eyes held a deeper intensity, silently acknowledging the unexpected reunion.

You looked up at her, finally recognizing who you were talking to. "Satoru? Is that really you?" Your face lit up with happiness, a genuine smile spreading across your lips.

"Yeah, it's me," Satoru confirmed, her heart warming at your reaction. "It's so good to see you again. How have you been?"

You both started talking, catching up on the years that had passed since middle school. The conversation flowed naturally, as if no time had passed at all.

Satoru felt a familiar warmth in her chest, the affection she had always harbored for you resurfacing. "Hey, would you like to grab some food? We could talk more comfortably," she suggested, her eyes hopeful.

You nodded, but before she could lead the way, she hesitated and asked, "Are you with someone now?"

You smiled and replied, "Yes, I'm married."

A shadow passed over Satoru's face, her sharp eyes noticing the faint bruises on your skin, some covered by makeup and others visible. She felt a pang of concern, suspecting the source of those marks.

As you both walked to a nearby café, Satoru gently probed, "Tell me about him."

You hesitated for a moment before speaking, "He's… well, he's my husband. We met a few years ago."

Satoru listened intently, noting the lack of warmth in your voice. "What's he like?"

"He's… hardworking," you said slowly, avoiding eye contact. "He provides for us, but he's… strict."

Satoru's concern deepened, and she could sense your discomfort. "Strict how?" she pressed gently.

You sighed, looking down at your hands. "He's just… very particular about things. Gets upset easily."

Satoru's heart ached as she put the pieces together. The bruises, your hesitant tone, and the absence of affection in your words painted a troubling picture. But she chose not to push further at that moment, not wanting to upset you.

As you both made your way to the café, the conversation drifted back to lighter topics. Satoru found herself captivated by your presence, the way you spoke, and the familiar sound of your laughter. It reminded her of the feelings she had long ago, feelings that had never truly faded.

The café was quaint and quiet, a perfect spot for reminiscing. You both found a cozy corner, settling into the plush chairs. Satoru ordered her usual, while you chose something that caught your eye.

"So, what have you been up to all these years?" Satoru asked, genuinely curious.

You smiled, recounting your journey since middle school—your studies, your jobs, and the small adventures that life had taken you on. Satoru listened intently, her eyes never leaving yours, absorbing every detail.

"And you, Satoru? How's life been treating you?" you asked in return, your voice filled with genuine interest.

"Busy, but rewarding," Satoru replied, a hint of pride in her tone. "Teaching has been fulfilling, and I've managed to stay close with old friends like Suguru and Shoko."

The conversation drifted to shared memories of your school days, the mischievous pranks, the late-night study sessions, and the secrets only best friends could share. Laughter filled the space between you, bridging the gap that time had created.

As you chatted over your meals, Satoru's mind kept returning to the bruises she had seen. Despite her internal alarm, she decided not to say anything just yet, opting instead to focus on enjoying the moment with you.

"Remember the time we got caught sneaking out of class?" you asked, giggling at the memory.

"Oh, how could I forget?" Satoru laughed, shaking her head. "We thought we were so clever, but the teacher knew all along."

The nostalgia wrapped around you both, creating a warm bubble of familiarity and comfort. Satoru's heart swelled with the realization that her feelings for you had only deepened over the years.

As you finished your meal, Satoru looked at you with a tender expression. "It's been so great catching up, [Nickname]. We should do this more often."

You nodded enthusiastically, "Absolutely. I've missed this, missed you."

Satoru's smile was radiant, masking the flicker of worry that the sight of your bruises had ignited. She resolved to find out more, to understand what had happened to you, and to protect you as she had promised all those years ago. But for now, she cherished the moment, happy to have you back in her life.

As the conversation began to wind down, you reached into your bag and pulled out your phone. "Hey, can I have your number? I'd love to stay in touch," you said, a hopeful smile on your face.

"Of course," Satoru replied, handing you her phone. You both exchanged numbers, a sense of renewed connection solidifying between you.

You continued talking for a bit longer, sharing stories and memories. But then, your phone rang, and you visibly tensed. Satoru noticed the change in your demeanor instantly.

"It's my husband," you said, your voice tinged with anxiety. "I'm sorry, Satoru, but I have to go."

Satoru's heart sank, but she forced a reassuring smile. "It's alright, [Nickname]. We'll talk again soon."

You hurriedly gathered your things, apologizing once more before rushing out of the café. Satoru watched you leave, her mind racing with concern and determination. She vowed to find out more about your situation and to be there for you, just as she had promised all those years ago.

A few months had passed since your unexpected reunion with Satoru. During this time, you and Satoru had stayed in constant contact. Texts, calls, and occasional meetups had become a routine, and Satoru cherished every moment. She practically lived for your messages, her heart skipping a beat each time her phone buzzed with a new notification from you.

She had always known her feelings for you were strong, but reconnecting had only intensified them. Your voice, your laughter, the way you confided in her—it all made Satoru realize just how deeply she loved you. And as her affection grew, so did her concern for your well-being.

Late at night, after her responsibilities at the school were done, Satoru found herself consumed by thoughts of you. She couldn't shake the image of the bruises she had seen on your skin, the anxiety in your voice when your husband called. The more she thought about it, the more her anger simmered, bubbling just beneath the surface.

Driven by a need to protect you, Satoru began to follow your husband discreetly. She watched him from a distance, observing his actions, his interactions, and his behavior. What she saw only fueled her anger further. He was strict, harsh, and sometimes outright cruel. The way he treated you was unacceptable, and it made Satoru's blood boil.

One evening, she stood hidden in the shadows outside your home, her eyes narrowed as she watched him berate you over something trivial. You stood there, head bowed, taking his harsh words without a word of protest. Satoru's nails dug into her palms, the anger rising to a fever pitch. She bit her nails, a habit she had developed in moments of extreme stress and frustration.

She couldn't let this continue. She wouldn't let this continue. You deserved so much better, and she was determined to be the one to give you the love and protection you needed. Her mind raced with plans and possibilities, each more drastic than the last.

Satoru knew what she had to do. To have you love her and only her, she needed to remove the obstacle that stood between you. Your husband had to be dealt with. It wasn't just about her love for you anymore; it was about ensuring your safety and happiness.

The next time you called, Satoru's voice was as warm and loving as ever, but her mind was already set on the course of action she had to take. She listened to your voice, soaking in every word, while her resolve solidified.

"I miss you, Satoru," you said, your voice tinged with sadness.

"I miss you too, [Nickname]," she replied, her tone gentle. "We'll see each other soon, I promise."

As she hung up, Satoru stared at her phone, her expression determined. She would protect you at any cost, and soon, you would be free from the man who hurt you. You would be hers, and she would ensure that no one ever hurt you again.

—

As Satoru paced back and forth in her small apartment, her mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She had never imagined herself capable of such thoughts, let alone actions. But her love for you burned fiercely, overshadowing any doubts or moral hesitations.

She meticulously planned every detail, weighing the risks and benefits of each scenario. The thought of ending a life made her stomach churn, but the thought of you suffering at the hands of your husband was unbearable. She couldn't let that continue. She wouldn't.

Late into the night, Satoru sat at her cluttered desk, poring over maps, schedules, and potential alibis. She had to make sure everything was perfect, foolproof. Her heart raced with anticipation and anxiety, her hands trembling as she wrote down her plans.

She would wait for the right moment, when he was alone and vulnerable. Perhaps a business trip, a late-night return when no one else was around. She would strike swiftly and silently, leaving no trace behind. It had to be quick, efficient, and above all, undetectable.

As she prepared for what she believed was the only way to ensure your safety and happiness, Satoru's thoughts drifted back to you. Your smile, your laughter, the way you looked at her with trust and affection—it fueled her determination even more. She would do anything for you, even if it meant crossing lines she never thought she would.

The night before she intended to carry out her plan, Satoru stood before the mirror, staring at her own reflection. Her eyes were dark with resolve, her jaw clenched with determination. She rehearsed the steps in her mind, over and over, until they became ingrained in her memory.

"I'm doing this for you," she whispered to herself, a mix of conviction and desperation in her voice. "To protect you, to keep you safe."

On a particularly long day, you decided to treat yourself with a bit of shopping. As you made your way back home, the bags in your hands filled with small indulgences, your mind drifted to Satoru. Her texts and calls had become a lifeline, bringing you comfort and a sense of security that you desperately needed.

As you approached your house, you noticed something odd. The front door was slightly ajar, and a strange sense of unease settled in your stomach. You quickened your pace, your heart pounding with anxiety. Dropping your shopping bags to the ground, you froze in shock at the scene before you.

There, in the dimly lit living room, stood Satoru, her pristine white shirt splattered with blood. Your husband lay on the floor, his eyes wide with shock and pain as Satoru stabbed him repeatedly, her expression cold and unyielding.

"No! Satoru, stop!" you screamed, your voice breaking through the eerie silence.

Satoru's head snapped up, her piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. For a brief moment, her expression softened, and she almost looked vulnerable. But then, her determination returned, and she delivered one final, brutal stab before pulling the knife out and letting him collapse completely.

"Satoru…" you whispered, unable to comprehend what you had just witnessed. Your legs felt weak, and you stumbled back, leaning against the doorframe for support.

Satoru approached you slowly, dropping the bloodied knife to the floor. "He can't hurt you anymore," she said softly, her voice filled with a strange mix of relief and possessiveness.

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to find your voice. "Why? Why did you do this?"

"Because I love you, [Nickname]," Satoru replied, her tone unwavering. "I couldn't stand by and watch him hurt you any longer. You deserve to be safe, to be loved. And I can give you that."

You shook your head, the shock and horror of the situation overwhelming you. "This isn't the way, Satoru. This isn't right."

Satoru's expression softened, and she reached out to gently cup your face in her hands. "I did this for us, for you. You belong with me, and now nothing stands in our way."

Her touch was both comforting and terrifying, and you found yourself torn between gratitude and fear. The man who had caused you so much pain was gone, but at what cost? And what did this mean for your relationship with Satoru?

As the reality of the situation sank in, you realized that your life had changed irrevocably. How could you move forward from here?

Satoru pulled you into a gentle embrace, her voice a soothing whisper in your ear. "Everything will be alright now. I promise."

Your legs felt weak, and you collapsed to the floor, overwhelmed by shock and confusion. Satoru knelt beside you, her arms wrapping around you protectively. As much as you wanted to pull away, a part of you clung to her, seeking comfort in the midst of the chaos.

But as you clung to her, your heart heavy with conflicting emotions, you couldn't shake the feeling that nothing would ever be the same again.

requests are open. . .— made by zesty4zenin on tumblr ONLY!!

[heartcal]

overflow; c.h.

summary: calum breaks up with you over text instead of talking things out, but you're not settling for that. pairing: calum hood x gn!reader word count: 1,055 words warnings: mentions of stress, arguing, probably some swears (as usual), angst :^) (but some comfort), largely unedited + not proofread (written around 5am pls forgive me)

a/n: hi :^)) this is a lil piece i wrote after spending an entire day fixing my old laptop (that has been "dead" for 5 years) -- i used this laptop to write A LOT back then. since i have it working again, i had the motivation to write so i wanted to write and this is what came out :^) not for rejected (sorry :^( it's coming though!) but it's something! this was more like a writing exercise to get me back into things, so enjoy!

masterlist!

“I told you,” Calum scoffs, gripping the door handle to stop himself from shutting it in your face, “we’re done.” 

You shake your head, “Over text? Really?” 

He shrugs in response, eyes shifting behind you on a car passing by. He’s doing what he can to avoid any more direct eye contact. 

The everyday stress weighed on him, you note, as the dark circles under his eyes make any indication. There’s a slight redness surrounding his eyes and he’s blinking slower than normal. His shoulders are slumped, and you can hear it in his voice. He’s exhausted. 

You push past him and into the house – a home you once felt comfortable in – and it isn’t a welcome sight. Papers crumbled up and strewn around the living room, and various beverages in both cans and bottles littered the coffee table along with the end tables. Ash trays with countless cigarettes, used tissues, a slight musty odor tickled your nose with every other inhale. 

“What the hell, Calum?” You turn back to him, still standing by the now closed door, still avoiding your eyes. 

You sigh, your gaze shifting back to the mess in disbelief. 

You knew the stress was getting to him, and despite your best efforts to comfort him, it wore him down. The requests for him to take it easy, to take a break, to go for a walk with you to help clear his head; pointless, stupid, not helpful. His responses were pitiful, then they were disappointing, and eventually, maddening.  

You couldn’t take the pity party anymore. You wanted to be a good partner and be there for him but it was hard when he constantly pushed away any of your support. You didn’t want to watch Calum self-destruct when you were there to offer a shoulder to lean on. 

It started with a few snarky remarks here and there, originally going unnoticed by him (at least you believe they did, since he made no noise of acknowledgment). Then it evolved into quick albeit small retorts, which would then lead to you giving a few of your own.  

Was it petty? Absolutely, you’ll admit, and so did all your friends when you showed up to one of the latest get-togethers. They offered words of encouragement with their criticism of the situation. It’s just a small bump in the road, one said, patting your back gently, you both will get over it. 

Except neither of you did. The small bump devolved into a pothole, and your relationship went south. 

One snarky remark, then another, then another, and then another until it became name-calling and playground insults. The weight of everything poured over and you said something you didn’t mean. 

You were tired, too. You had your issues going on and he had known, and it was the fact that he was in his own world, too busy to notice you slipping like he was. 

It came to a head a week ago. Both of you spitting vitriol towards each other, too engrossed in trying to hurt the other to notice the look of heartbreak.  

“You know what? I’m done,” you breathe out, hands up in exasperation. 

Calum doesn’t say anything, rolling his eyes whilst nodding, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

You left the house that day, opting to stay with your friend hoping to clear your head in preparation for The Talk. But the days passed, and you received a text from Calum the night before. 

I can’t do this anymore. We’re done. 

It was stupid, you thought, to break things off over text. Childish, even, and you wanted to tell him that to his face. 

So the next day, you made your way over with a full speech ready to go. He was going to listen to you for the first time in a while whether he liked it or not. 

But the speech and any witty jabs were gone when you arrived, and upon walking into the house you were in just a week ago, the gravity of the situation dawned on you. 

You gulp, turning to face Calum. His eyes jumped up to look at the movement before moving down to look at his nails as he picked at the dirt underneath the fingernails. 

Your mouth opens, ready to speak, but it snaps shut as Calum’s stance changes. “Don’t.” 

“I didn’t even say anything.” 

“You were going to,” he steps away from the door, “and I know what you were going to say.” 

He knows you’re starting to pity him. He knows and he hates it. 

Your jaw clenches. You won’t get anywhere with him if he’s acting like this. You sniffle, warmth beginning to surround your eyes, “No, Calum, let me speak.” 

He inhales, ready to open his mouth to respond, but his mouth doesn’t move. 

“You’re digging yourself into this...this hole. I mean, look at this place--” your hands gesture to the living room, “--it’s a mess, Calum! This is unhealthy, physically and mentally. I’m worried about you.” 

Calum still says nothing, but his eyes finally make contact with yours. Your breath hitches, noticing the redness in his eyes has spread, unshed tears dance around his lower lids. There’s a slight tremble in his jaw, his breathing starting to pick up. 

“I’m worried about you, Calum,” you repeat, taking a hesitant step towards him, “I care about you. I just want you to talk to me, and I mean really talk to me.” 

He doesn’t move as you inch closer. He doesn’t move when you reach for his shaking hands, holding them in yours.  

His tears finally fall once you squeeze his hands, reassuring him that you’re here. 

He shakes his hands free from yours, bringing them up to wrap you in a tight hug while mumbling numerous apologies. 

Apologies for the insults, his attitude, his silence, and his behavior overall. He’s near inconsolable, hands tightening on your shirt, not caring about the tears staining it as he nuzzles his head into your neck.  

You soothe him, gently scratching his back. 

“Let’s talk, yeah?” 

He pulls away after a beat of silence, agreeing with puffy eyes, one hand still on your back. 

It’s not going to be an easy conversation, but it’s sure going to be a hell of a lot better than keeping everything in again.  

[shadows-writing-lounge]

Any possible way I could get Ganondorf sucking his partner's manhood & swallowing, then getting it from behind?

I tried to get this to a thousand words and was so close. I hope this is acceptable but if you wanted a more submissive Ganon I'll try again.

Content: BJ(receiving), doggy(giving). Use of the word cum, small top and big bottom? Implied power bottom/switch Ganondorf. Nonspecific/mixed interation of Ganondorf. I use Ganon and Ganondorf interchangeably here. Use lube my dudes. Overstimulation.

Reader Info:second person You/your pronouns,Dominant Reader, has a penis, masculine terms. Ambiguous race(hylian,gerudo, etcetera). Dick size not mentioned. Mentioned to curse but doesn't have dialogue.

3rd Person(He/Him) Will link when finished.

_

It didn't take much convincing to have the Gerudo King kneeling between your thighs. You don't quite recall the words nor how you said them but they must of been persuasive for him to be this eager. Despite his large strong hands on your hip and thigh, and the fact you know he could easily flip the roles, you felt irreparably in control. One hand gripping the sheets beneath you, the other slipping its fingers into his vermilion hair. You then tug, pulling his head forward. Ganondorf is stubborn, patient and enjoying your displeasure at being teased. He relents to only tease your tip one last time. Circling his tongue around the crown, licking across the slit before sucking. You sigh relieved as he closes his lips around your cockhead. Now he doesn't mind you guiding his head it's just something to tease you with later. His amber eyes never looking away from your face as he takes your cock to the root and pulls back to the tip.

Fair enough to you, as your eyes don't move his form. It was in the rare moments Ganondorf wasn't guarded, his hair wasn't up nor was he suited in his armor. Instead clothed in loose fabrics that accentuates his body showing each flex of muscle underneath. A plus is that you know just how easy it is to just slip those off. An ease akin a tissue paper wrapped present.

Your breathes and soft sounds as well the lewd wet noises of a mouth working your cock are the only sign to any passing underling to what's happening. Feeling your thighs tense under his hands he increases his efforts at the sensitive parts of your manhood. Ganon smirks as you curse, your cock giving a telltale throb. You buck, rut and roll your hips into Ganon's awaiting mouth. A few thrusts in and your cock spasms once dry, second pumping your cum as far as your length reached.

Ganondorf waits for to finish painting his throat before he pulls back letting fall from his lips as he stands up. Catching your breath you watch through half lidded eyes as he slowly slipped his robe off letting you trail your eyes over any newly exposed flesh. The fabric falls to the floor revealing him in his entirety. His chiseled physique, strong broad shoulders, down his torso the thick happy trail leading your eyes to his own manhood. You know he's aroused but the pure weight and size makes him hang. Ganondorf's voice pulls your attention back to his face.

"Surely you have more to offer then that," his deep baritone might be enough to get you going again by itself. He doesn't wait for your answer for he already knows it. You get off the bed quickly, amusing Ganon by your eagerness. You move into position gently brushing his hair off of his back seeing the scars lined across the skin. They were a few shades darker than the rest of his skin. You press a kiss against a prominent scar causing Ganondorf to tense beneath you before relaxing. He's still unused to tender touches like this. You press your fingers against his ass slowly pressing in at first. Your free hand moves to stroke yourself the rest of the way erect. You don't take you time not this session at least, maybe once he's more comfortable with soft touches you'll go slow. Possibly make love, but now it's not what your king wants from you. You have to judge of it's enough. Removing your fingers and lining your cockhead to his entrance only his own saliva lubricating your cock. You push forward as far as you can your body pressing against his firm buttocks. Your hands against his waist as you lean your weight onto him so you have some leverage to move your hips against his.

You leisurely speed up your thrusts with each smack of your hips. You push against Ganon's back he complies and arches his back for you. Your hands now on his hips as he holds up his torso with fold arms. Now able to push deeper from the vantage point you made you rut against his ass trying to find the best angle. You settle for now and focus on fucking into the large man. It felt great with him under you. This close you could really take in the angles and curves of his body. Makes you feel strong with such a powerful king under you.

Your hands on his hips guide them in movement with your trusts allowing you to hit harder inside. Ganondorf occasionally looks over his shoulder at you noticing either how focused or blissed out you are. He's clearly amused by how hard you're trying to be rough with him. Din deemed him the most powerful for a reason after all.

Thrusts grow slightly sloppy as you near your second climax. You feel the build up, tingles running up your spine originating from your cock brushing against Ganon's insides. Your grip on his hips tightens. Ganondorf doesn't need the warning he knows the signs.

"Go on, give me it all. It's want you want isn't it?" You're unsure if Ganondorf's tone is mocking or genuinely encouraging but you're too close to really care.

Ganondorf feels you tense against him before you cum. Not quite as much as the first time. The king seems to drain you like that. You try to continue moving as you climax until it's too much. Pulling your sensitive cock from him staining the sheets with the last remnants of your second orgasm.

You ground yourself post orgasmic bliss as Ganondorf moves guiding you down onto the bed where he laid.

"You can go again, dear? For your king," Ganondorf says it in more of a command than a request. You know you can simply decline but who are you to deny the Dark Lord his due?

[katethewriter]

An Hourglass

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Summary: After 8 months on a mission, Wanda and Natasha come home to the worst news they could have imagined.

Words: 1k~

Warnings: terminal illness, cancer diagnosis, I may work in a Dr's office but that doesn’t mean I’m good at medical jargon, angst, just angst, no happy ending

A/N: Someone made a comment about me posting the fluff fic yesterday, so I thought I'd post some angst to even the score. 😂 hehehe, I hope you enjoy, may want to grab the tissues

Sitting in the window seat, you stare blankly out at the city. The sun is almost ready to set. The streets below are filling with night lights.

You see none of it however. Your eyes just gaze, as your mind moves faster than you can keep up. A million thoughts race through your mind, but you still think of nothing.

Numb.

That's what you are. It's how you've been for days now.

Numb and waiting for anyone to bring you back out of it.

As Natasha and Wanda enter your shared home, they notice that everything is near exactly the same as when they left. They weren't expecting a complete remodel, but 8 months could warrant a new piece of furniture or new wall decor.

They call out for you and walk further into the home, desperate to wrap their arms around you after so long apart.

Natasha quickly makes her way through the house, continuing her search upstairs.

Wanda was following closely behind, until they passed through the kitchen. She stops short at the kitchen island, where papers are spread about.

The letter head is what stands out the most. Thomas Hospital. Her anxiety picks up as she reads a doctor's name followed by "Oncology".

Dread fills her more as she scans over the papers, only certain words and phrases catch her eye.

"Patient Name: Y/n L/n-Maximoff-Romanoff"

"...Lung Cancer..."

"...Stage Four..." "...Metastatic..."

"...spread to lymph nodes, kidneys, stomach and liver..."

"Treatment: Palliative." "...Prognosis: 3-5 months."

The Sokovian's heart drops to her stomach.

No. This can't be happening. She can't lose anyone else.

She can't lose you.

Wanda grabs the papers and darts upstairs.

When Natasha strolls into the bedroom, she can't but smile at the sight of you.

"Lyubov," she calls to you, but you don't respond. She kneels in front of the window seat, looking up to you.

"Y/n," Natasha says lightly, placing a soft hand on your knee.

Still numb, you turn to her, but it's like you don't see her. Your eyes almost stare through her. Worry growing in the pit of her stomach.

Your wife's eyes shift to the pamphlet dangling from between your fingers. She can only read the title: "Living with a Terminal Illness".

Her hands shake as she gently takes it from you. She skims the front page for a few seconds, before looking back to you with a new fear in her eyes, "detka, what is this?"

For the first time since you woke up this morning, you're brought to the edge of awareness. Your eyes softly focus on Natasha; your expression still lost.

A movement in the doorway draws your attention, and you slowly look up. Wanda stands in the doorway holding a few papers, and you know. You know she knows.

The witch joins the widow in kneeling in front of you. She tries her best to hold back the tears in her eyes as she asks, "is it true, love?"

All you can manage is a nod.

Quickly, Natasha takes the pages from her other wife and reads as fast as she can.

"You could have called us," Wanda strokes your knee, "we would have come, detka."

You look around you, slowly coming back to awareness. "They... they said it was probably n-nothing. They just wanted to double check," you say in a daze, "...I didn't want to worry you over nothing."

Her heart breaks even further. Even going through what must have been a terrifying diagnosing process, you were still thinking of them first.

The widow looks up from the now tear stained pages, "when did you-?" She stops short, unable to finish the sentence.

"L-last week."

Guilt grip both of them. They've been away on a mission, and you've been left to go through this alone. You shouldn't have been alone.

They should have been here.

That's something they will have to wrestle with for the rest of their lives.

"We're here now," Wanda reassures, reaching up to stroke your cheek. "We're not going out again. You don't have to go through this alone anymore."

Natasha sniffles, setting the papers aside, "We'll be with you the whole time... and we don't even know what this means."

You look to her sadly.

"We don't," she raises her shoulders, "we'll take you to see Cho. She's the best doctor in the world. She can help us." She takes your face into her hands, "we could still have so much time together, so many years. Ok?" She smiles reassuringly, until you nod.

Your numbness finally falls away, and you're left with the overwhelming fear of the situation. Fat tears begin to roll down your face with no sign of stopping.

Your wives sit on either side of you and wrap their arms around you. They stay until you have cried out all of your fear. They let you take all the time you need.

Four months later, when the once happy home feels cold and empty, Natasha and Wanda will kick themselves for spending so much time away. Time they can never get back.

8 months they should have spent with you.

When it gets quiet, they mourn…

You and all of that time they let slip through their fingers like sand.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: part 2?

Edit: it’d be more like a part 1.5, those last 4 months.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 11 - Boots

@wolfstarmicrofic Prompt 11, word count 684

Sirius walked into the first shoe shop that he came to. He needed new boots. His had finally given out, they had been pretty old and well-worn.

The shop was small and stacked to the ceiling with boxes of shoes. A tall, lanky man appeared from behind one of the precarious stacks. 

“Can I help?” He asked Sirius politely. Sirius spotted a name tag. It said, Remus. Interesting name, he thought.

“Er, yes. I need a new pair of boots please.” Remus grinned excitedly at him. 

“Right this way, boots are over here.” Sirius followed behind Remus as he darted and wove around the many boxes. 

“What sort of boot are you wanting?” Remus asked Sirius. 

“Just a boot. Something that won’t wear out too quickly.” Sirius said. 

“There’s no such thing as just a boot!” Remus shot back, looking strangely offended. He turned and started pulling boxes expertly out of the stacks and passing them to Sirius to try on. 

Half an hour later, they were still looking for the perfect pair. Remus was exasperated. But determined to figure out the puzzle. His hair was stuck up where he’d raked his hands through it after each failure. He’d yanked his wool jumper off after the first ten minutes. It lay where he’d flung it on top of the discard pile of boots they’d already tried. 

Sirius, on the other hand, was bewildered. Some of the boots had actually fit quite nicely. He would have happily bought them, but Remus had refused and thrown them into the pile. 

Eventually, they’d gone through every boot on the shop floor and Remus hadn’t been satisfied with any of them. He sat on the floor and pondered. 

Sirius had just been about to suggest that they try one of the pairs he’d quite liked again when Remus suddenly lurched to his feet. 

“I’ve got it!” He yelled as he ran into the back and out of sight. “Don’t go anywhere!” He called through. Sirius wasn’t going anywhere. He’d been enjoying Remus’s unbridled delight and was secretly quite glad that they couldn’t find the right boot as it meant he could spend more time with the strange man.

Remus reappeared with a very dusty box in his hands. It was so dusty in fact that Sirius couldn’t see what the box said. Remus approached him and slowly opened the lid. Nestled inside, surrounded by tissue paper were a pair of black leather work boots.

“These have been in the back for years. I inherited the shop from my dad and he inherited it from my grandad. They said they were good luck, been on a shelf since the 70’s, I think.” Remus told him as he carefully removed the boots from the box. 

Sirius was gobsmacked. They were exactly what he wanted. He sat still, allowing Remus to place them on his feet. Watching his long, slender fingers deftly lace them up. 

Remus looked up at him, beaming. “Perfect.” Sirius had to agree. 

Remus put Sirius’s trainers into the dusty shoe box and went to ring it up. Sirius paid Remus and while the receipt was printing looked at the devastation they had caused. 

“Do you want a hand tidying up, I feel guilty leaving all that for you to do.” He asked, turning back to Remus, hoping he’d say yes so that he could stay a little longer. 

“Oh, no, no, It’ll take me two ticks to sort that out. No, no, you go and enjoy your new boots. I’ve popped your receipt in the box for you.” He said as he handed over the shoe box, now dust-free after Remus had given it a quick wipe. 

“Well, if you’re sure. Bye then.” Sirius replied, taking the bag and heading to the door. “Thanks for all your help.” He told Remus before he left.

 It wasn’t until he’d gotten home and removed his trainers from the box that he noticed Remus’s phone number scribbled at the bottom of the receipt and the words ‘fancy a date?’ written next to it. Sirius grinned and unlocked his phone.    

[pedroshotwifey]

Topped With a Bow

Pairing: Frankie Morales x afab!reader x Santi Garcia

Word Count: 4.5k

Tags/Warnings: no use of y/n, oral sex m&f receiving, PIV sex, ass eating what who said that, anal sex, double penetration, blowjobs, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink but only like once, vaginal fingering, wifey thinks she's hilarious with her titles, i'm probably forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: On your birthday, you expect for Santiago to have something waiting at home for you. What you don't expect, however, is for that something to be Frankie Morales.

A/N: So, funny story, this was actually supposed to be written in time to post on my birthday, which was October 3rd. Obviously, that didn't work out, but it's proof that wifey can get her shit together every now and again, (although apparently not her birthday) so we'll take what we can get. Anyway, please enjoy! Likes, comments, and reposts are veryyy much appreciated! <3

***

“Good morning, birthday girl!” 

You jump, almost spilling your coffee as you walk into the door of your office, only to be ambushed by one of your co-worker’s cheery greetings. Kira, who is always somehow completely awake in the mornings, seems to be more energetic than ever today. Not that you mind, of course, this dull office needs her morale. 

“Thank you, girly,” you say with a smile before going in for a hug. You’d never tell, but she’s by far your favorite person to work with. It makes you feel warm inside to know that she bothered to remember your birthday in the first place, so when she separates from you to shove a gift bag into your free hand, you feel like you might cry. 

“Aw, Kira, you really didn’t have to do that!” You already know that she is going to insist, but you tell her anyway. You roll your eyes playfully as she immediately tells you that ‘Of course, she had to!’

“Okay, hold on, lemme just set my things down,” you tell her, jerking your head for her to follow you. You smile and shake your head at her in disbelief as you pass through the heavily decorated office. Everywhere you look, you see balloons and streamers of your favorite colors. 

Almost all of your co-workers peek their heads up to tell you happy birthday, and it makes you feel special, even though you’re not really one to make the day a big deal. 

Once you get to your desk, you place your coffee and purse in their respective places before peaking inside the gift bag. Taking the tissue paper out, you find two books that you’ve been wanting to read for a while, as well as a starbucks gift card. 

“Girl!” You grin brightly at Kira. “You spoil me, really.” You take a step forward to pull her into a hug one more time, which she gladly reciprocates. “Thank you,” you say, giving her a small squeeze. 

“You’re welcome, babe,” she says as she steps back. “I’ve got to go ahead and get back to work before the boss chops my head off, but I hope you have an amazing day, hottie,” she sends you a friendly wink at the nickname. 

You playfully roll your eyes and tell her to do the same before plopping down in your office chair to boot up your laptop. It doesn’t look like you have too much work to do, which means you might be able to get out of here early. Perfect. 

***

You skip your lunch break and get your work done by 2:30. Surprisingly, your boss gives you permission to go home, which is perfect because you had told Santi this morning that you were hoping to be back by 3:30 at the latest. You’re eager to get back to your apartment to your roommate–and on occasion, fuckbuddy. 

You don’t remember exactly when it started. One day both of you just kind of realized you missed intimacy, but neither of you wanted another commitment. Santi’s attractive, you’re attractive, and this way, neither of you have to worry about the stress of a relationship. Thankfully, it hasn’t messed with your dynamic, and now it’s just a normal thing. 

Both of you are allowed to see other people, and if one of you wants to stop hooking up at some point, there’s no offense to be taken. It’s honestly the best arrangement you could ask for at the moment. Anyway, whatever Santi is, You kind of figure that he’ll have a certain “surprise” waiting for you for your birthday. Your panties are slick just thinking about it. 

Wasting no more time, you pack your stuff and say a quick good-bye to Kira before rushing out to your car. You immediately call Santi to let him know you’re on your way. 

“Hey, baby!” You say as soon as he picks up. 

“Hey, babydoll. On your way?” 

“Yup, should be there in like twenty minutes or so.” 

“Okay, baby, I’ll be waiting.” 

Smirking, you hang up. He sounds awfully cheeky to not have a surprise. You’re glad you decided to wear your nice matching panty and bra set today, you have a feeling Santi will want to get right to it once you walk in the door. You hope so, anyway. Your thighs clench as you begin to think of scenarios you hope to find yourself in when you get home. 

***

With traffic, it takes you about 22 minutes to get to your complex. As soon as you park, you jump out of your car and bee-line to your door. You don’t even have a chance to put your keys in the door before it’s being pulled open by your roommate. 

He immediately grabs you and pulls you to him, pressing his lips against yours. You giggle as you drop your purse and kick the door shut behind you. 

“Wow, someone’s enthusiastic,” you say, pulling away just enough to get the words out. 

Santi looks for a second like he might want to say something, but obviously changes his mind as he pushes you back to pin your against the door. His plush lips crash into yours once again, and you let yourself melt into the kiss. As it gets more heated, you can feel his dick hardening against you, and you subconsciously begin to grind into it, making him moan into your mouth. 

Suddenly, he pushes off of you. 

“Santi, wha-”

“I know, honey,” he says, his eyes pleading. “As much as I want to stand here and devour you, I want you to see your gift just a little bit more.” 

“A gift?” You ask, your own eyes lighting up. “Santi! You really didn’t have to!”

“Oh,” he says, mischief suddenly appearing in his gaze. “But I did.” 

You eye him suspiciously as he pulls you toward your room, stopping once he reaches the hallway. You’re about to open it when he begins talking, signaling for you to wait. 

“You remember that thing we talked about last time we were out with the guys?” He sounds sheepish yet excited at the same time, the tone making you raise an eyebrow in suspicion. When he doesn’t elaborate, you try to wrack your brain for the memory. 

The entire group had met up at a bar, and you had gotten pretty drunk, to be honest. You begin to shake your head, but then something clears up. That can’t be what he’s talking about, right?

You recall making a comment about Frankie. You aren’t sure exactly what it was, but Santi had caught you looking him over. Sure, you’ve always found Frankie extremely attractive–I mean, who wouldn’t? But you never meant to make it known, especially to Santi. You were too scared of him telling Frankie, and you wouldn’t be able to handle getting turned down by such a goddamn hunk. Though, if you remember correctly, you had been thoroughly surprised by what Santi had to say. 

Apparently, he and Frankie had their fair share of hook-ups throughout the years, though they stayed completely platonic other than that. Santi had asked you if you would hook up with Frankie if you had the chance, and, because you were drunk off your ass, you told the truth–yes. Santi had smiled with an amused look in his eye, and that was that. Or so you thought. 

“You don’t mean that thing about Frankie, right?” you ask, your cheeks beginning to redden with embarrassment. Santi just smiles wider. 

“What are you trying to get from this, Santi?” you question, suspicion lacing your voice. 

“Nothing at all, baby,” he assures you. He pulls at your wrist before you have a chance to ask anything else, immediately setting a path for the bedroom. You struggle to keep up as he tugs you down the hall to the cracked door. 

When he opens it, your jaw drops. You had expected Santi to have a certain ‘surprise’, but you hadn’t expected him to bring in an extra. 

Sitting on your bed, completely naked except for a red bow tied loosely around his hardened cock, is none other than Frankie Morales. 

“Happy birthday, carino,” Frankie says, a knowing smirk plastered on his handsome face.

You can’t think of a single thing to say in response to that, but that's okay, considering your throat is too dry for you to make a noise anyway. Luckily, Santiago saves you when he gives you a small push toward Frankie. Through the shock, you had almost forgotten he was behind you. 

“Go on, honey, open your present,” he says as if all of this is completely normal. “Though I guess there’s not much left to unwrap,” he adds with a chuckle, which Frankie joins in on. 

Jaw still wide open, you slowly turn to Santi as if to make sure this isn’t some kind of trick. When you face him, however, you find that he’s already working at the zipper on his jeans. Clearly he’s just as eager as you are for you to ‘open your present’. 

As the situation really starts to set in, you feel a tug of excitement in your chest, and then another from in between your legs. Once he has his jeans on a heap on the floor, Santi looks at you, and you can feel the smile that slowly creeps onto your face. You’re about to fuck both of these drop-dead-gorgeous men. Holy fucking shit. 

He smiles back and nods at you as if to say ‘go on, baby’. You don’t have to be told twice. You quickly flip back around to watch Frankie place his hand around his thick cock, slowly starting to jerk off in front of you. He keeps dark eyes on you while he touches himself, daring you to come toward him. You reciprocate his lusty gaze with one of your own as you walk toward the bed. You can feel Santi trailing right behind you. 

“You want to suck Frankie’s cock, baby?” Santi asks as he gently gathers your hair and lets it fall down your back. “We both know how much you love having a good dick in your mouth,” he continues. “So good at it, always make me feel so fucking good.” 

A small moan slips from your lips as you nod, keeping your eyes on Frankie. The way his tongue peeks out to wet his bottom lip for a brief second makes your knees buckle. With Santi’s help, you slowly sink down to your knees so that you’re eye level with Frankies cock.

 His hand is still moving in slow strokes, rustling the ribbon tied around him with every pass. A bead of precome dribbles from his slit and runs down his shaft, making you whine at the sight. 

“C-can I?” you ask him once you find your voice. He chuckles quietly and uses his other hand to smooth down your hair, before he drops it down to your shoulder to place it over Santiago’s. 

“Of course, hermosa, it’s all for you, go ahead and take it,” Frankie tells you as he brings his hand back up to rest on your head. You’re still a bit hesitant, but you know it’s what you really want. 

With shaky hands, you reach up and untie the bow around his cock. Frankie removes his own hand as you get to work, setting it down on the bed beside him. You look up through your lashes to find Frankie staring hungrily down at you. The look gives you a sudden boost of confidence, and you smirk as you slowly tug the ribbon off of him, letting the silk slither around the base of him. 

He groans quietly and bucks his hips at the feeling. As you get more comfortable, Santi leaves your side to strip the rest of the way, keeping an eye on the two of you as he does so. The whole situation has your panties absolutely drenched, and you want nothing more than to take them off, but Frankie’s cock is right there. Okay, maybe there’s one thing you want more. 

You lick your palm and begin to stroke him off as Santi resumes his position, commenting on how good you look on your knees. You don’t waste another minute before you’re taking Frankie’s tip into the heat of your mouth. He groans but keeps his palm steady on your head, not pushing you down, but not letting you up, either. 

“God, baby, fucking mouth feels so damn good.” 

You smirk around him as he praises you and begin to take him deeper, increasing your suction as you go. When you’re at the base, he bucks his hips again, making you choke slightly. You try to pull your head back out of pure reflex, but his hand holds you where you’re at. The action somehow makes you even wetter. 

You’re quickly distracted from the tears that well up in your eyes, however, when you feel your dress being flipped up behind you, exposing your ass to Santi, who delivers a sharp slap to one of your cheeks. 

“Such a pretty ass, babydoll.” 

At that, Frankie lets you off his dick just enough for you to take in a gulp of air and say a quick ‘thank you’ to Santiago. Before you can put your eager mouth back on Frankie, Santi swats your behind for a second time.

“Thank you, what?” God, that fucking tone, you could never resist it. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” you half moan. Frankie moans right along with you as you say it. Apparently both of the boys have a thing for that. You don’t hate it. 

You don’t wait long before taking Frankie back into your mouth and starting to bob your head up and down at a brutal pace. You choose to listen to the whimpers and moans that tumble from his mouth as Santi begins to pull your panties down your legs. As your clit is exposed to the cool air of the bedroom, it twitches, making you whine yourself.

“I know, baby, I’m gonna take care of you,” Santi says as he brings a hand to your dripping cunt.

“Damn, carino, so fucking wet already,” he says, slipping two fingers into your pussy. “Such a desperate whore for us.” Based on the sounds coming from behind you, you can guess that Santi has his other hand wrapped around his cock. 

“D-damn fuckin’ right,” Frankie grunts out as he rocks his hips up to your mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve been keeping her all to yourself, Santi.” 

“Hey, I’m sharing now, aren’t I?” Santi begins to pump his fingers in and out of you, crooking them into just the right spot. You can feel your orgasm approaching already. 

The way the two engage in what sounds like a casual conversation only serves to turn you on even more, which is made clear in the vigorous way you continue to blow Frankie. You and Frankie are pushed over the edge at the same time, and you find it extremely difficult to swallow his cum while your eyes are in the back of your head, but you manage. 

The sounds that Frankie let out are absolutely delicious, and you find yourself already craving more. The hand he has in your hair pushes you down and pulls at the strands at the same time as he whines and groans above you. 

You try not to gag as his dick finishes pulsing in your throat. Once he’s sure he’s done, he loosens his grip on your hair and lets your head back up. He notices a rogue tear falling down your cheek and smiles at you as he swipes it away with his thumb. 

“Good fucking job, hermosa,” he praises before locking eyes with Santi, who is busy sucking your cum off of his fingers. “Santi’s been training you well, huh?”

“Tastes fucking delicous, too,” Santi says after he pulls his fingers out of his mouth. You feel his hand return to your cunt shortly after. You shiver as he dips his digits into your pussy to collect more of your spend before offering it to Frankie, who takes Santi’s fingers in his mouth.

“Fuck, he’s right, sweetheart,” Frankie says after Santi pulls his fingers away. “Wanna eat that sweet pussy out all day, but I think Santi here deserves to get a turn to get his dick wet, don’t you?” 

Still hazy from your orgasm, you simply nod up at him, letting him pet your hair back as you do so. Frankie’s eyes soften as he takes in your disheveled appearance, his gaze holding a sense of both pride and passion. 

“Good girl,” Frankie says as Santi walks around to your other side, now fully undressed. 

“Why don’t you hop on the bed for us, baby?” Santi says it like it’s an option, but you know better than that–not like you’d deny him anyway. 

“Yes, Sir,” you say as you pull yourself onto the bed, getting ready to settle on your hands and knees. Suddenly, you’re stopped by Santi’s hand on your hip. 

“Y’know what, Frank?” Santi asks thoughtfully, making you look over at him. As you glance at Frankie, you can tell he is just as confused. 

"What's that, santi?” 

“I think she could actually use a bit more assistance before I stuff my cock into her.” His smile widens as he grabs the back of Frankie’s neck, pulling him toward you.

“Why don’t you go ahead and have a taste to help her out?” 

Before you know it, you’re positioned on your back, your ass almost hanging off the bed, and Frankie is between your legs, groaning into your cunt. He eats you out like a starved man as you grope at his curls, your screams letting him know how good he’s making you feel.

He alternates between sucking harshly on your clit and dipping his tongue into your weeping core, the combination absolutely blinding all senses but touch. Just as you’re about to come, you feel the devastating loss as Santi grips Frankie’s neck and pulls him away from you, making you and Frankie let out equally pitiful whines. 

“Aww, I’m sorry, baby.” He says, a shit eating grin adorning his features as he looks down at the two of you. “Had a better idea. Scootch up on the bed a bit. Frank, you take her place.” 

You’re not sure what Santi has planned, but with the way Frankie’s eyes widen with recognition, you can guess it will be good. You obey him almost immediately, Frankie right on your tail, pushing you until your head lands on the plush pillows near the headboard. He wastes no time in wrapping his arms underneath your thighs and delving back into your pussy. 

“Ass up, Frank,” Santi’s tone leaves no room for argument, but Frankie definitely doesn’t want to fight it. His compliance is evident in the way he pushes his knees under his torso, presenting himself for the other man. 

You can tell the exact moment Santi shoves his tongue into Frankie’s ass by the way he groans and picks up his efforts on your cunt. After a moment, Frankie begins to falter as his body shakes with pleasure, and Santi delivers a slap to his ass, making Frankie whine and buck up into him.

“C’mon, Frankie,” Santi scolds him. “Gotta treat the lady right if I’m gonna make you feel good.” 

Frankie nods between your legs, but clearly it’s not enough to satisfy the other man, because Santi suddenly has his fist in Frankie’s hair, pulling him away from you. You feel tears brim your eyes from being denied again, but you can hardly complain with the scene that’s unfolding in front of you. 

Both you and Frankie whine simultaneously, Frankie from the stress on his hair as Santi clenches his fist, and you from the way the man submits so easily. 

“Words, sweet boy,” Santi says, pulling Frankie close enough for him to say it face-to-face. “Say ‘thank you, Santi’.”

“T-thank you, Santi,” Frankie pants, obviously appeasing Santi as he’s allowed to come back to you. 

“That’s a good boy,” Santi says, smoothing down Frankie’s messed curls. “Don’t get distracted again.” 

As fast as he left, Santi’s back to eating Frankie’s ass, and Frankie’s back to devouring your cunt, whining and whimpering like a mad-man. He must have looped an arm around to grab Frankie’s weeping cock as well because you can feel Frankie grinding up against something. If you weren’t so consumed with bliss, you would wish you could watch the two men get eachother off. 

The entire time, you hear Santi telling you both how well you’re doing for him. He scatters in promises of fucking Frankie in the ass if he does good by you. You never thought that’s something you might want to see, but right now, you’re half tempted to stop everything in favor of the suggestion. 

Before you know it, you’re at the edge of release once again. It takes maybe one or two more flicks of Frankie’s tongue and then you’re cumming in his mouth. The hot pleasure courses through every fiber of your being, the feeling easily warming you. 

As soon as your high is over, You feel Frankie being pulled off of you once again, only to be replaced by Santi, who quickly lines himself up with your entrance before sinking in with one thrust. Frankie, who is now to your side, covers your scream with his mouth as it spills from your lips. 

“God damn, baby, feel so fucking good,” Santi grunts down at you. “Warmed her up nicely, Frankie, good job.” 

At the sound of his name, Frankie pulls himself away from you, opting instead to lean up against the headboard. He looks genuinely tired, panting heavily, but if his cock is anything to go by, he’ll be ready to go again if you just said the word. 

Your body is physically pushed up the bed with the force that Santi is thrusting into you with. He hits that spongy spot inside you with every thrust, causing you to gasp and moan with every punch. It’s almost too much, but when Frankie moves one hand to rub at your clit, you don’t dare think of pushing him away. 

“Look at you, both so f-fucking good,” Santi continues to praise you and Frankie as he somehow picks up his pace. “Think you both deserve a reward.” 

You perk up slightly at that. What the hell more could you want right now. You’re in bliss as you get pounded into, Frankie’s fingers rubbing circles on your clit, Santi’s cock in your deepest parts. When you look over at Frankie to find that he’s pumping himself with his free hand, you almost come from the sight alone. But somehow, Santi always finds a way to make things better.

“You want Frankie to take your ass, angel?” Santi asks.

Your moan is enough of an answer to have Frankie shuffling to sit you up and get behind you before lifting you slightly to line himself up. With all the slick that's traveled back toward your other hole, you are more than prepared to have him sink in. 

Santi slows down to let Frankie slide in with ease, and all three of you groan at the sensation. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the same time your mouth drops open, a bit of drool escaping as you do so.

You’ve never felt so full in your life. You’ve tried both holes on different occasions with Santi, but you’ve never had both your ass and your cunt being used at the same time. You feel Frankie and Santi shift around you, sandwiching you closer as each of them grabs the back of the other’s neck. 

You feel Frankie thrust into you, and then Santi follows. It takes them a moment to find a good rhythm, but once they do, it's absolute nirvana. You can feel the way they both rub up against your middle wall, sliding against each other and creating an intense pressure. 

“Oh-h mph… Ah!” 

You’re well aware you’re trying to say something, but the words simply can’t form. Every single thought in your head is focused on the men on either side of you. Their grunts and grasps get harsher each time they up their pace, making you bounce on both of their cocks. 

“I know, b-baby,” Santi says, using his free hand to grope at your ass the best he can. “Words are hard when you’re getting fucked good, aren’t they?” 

You clench around them both at his condescending tone, making Frankie whine and Santi hiss through his teeth. Frankie’s hand comes around to tweak at a nipple, and you’re quickly blinded by the pleasure, your orgasm taking over. 

You scream as you gush around Santi, and before long, you feel both of their dicks pulsing inside of you, splattering your walls with hot, thick cum. You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel one of them wipes away a tear. The three of you collapse onto each other, each of you trying to catch your breath as you steal sloppy kisses through your orgasms.

Everything sounds like it’s underwater as you feel your body get moved off of the guys and laid flat on the bed. Both of the men are showering you with praise as they move to get you cleaned up. They take turns bending down to plant a kiss to your lips, and you use all of your effort to reciprocate. 

You watch them smile at each other as they walk into the bathroom, and then you close your eyes.

***

When you open them again, you find yourself lodged–once again–between Frankie and Santi. You feel significantly much cleaner, happy not to wake up covered in dried cum. Though you really probably wouldn’t have minded that much. 

As you take in your surroundings, you see both of the guys lounging in their briefs, watching some movie on the T.V at low volume. You’ve been covered in a light blanket, but you feel much warmer with the way either man has an arm wrapped around you. 

“Hey, sweetheart, welcome back to the land of the living,” Santi jokes once he notices you’re awake. 

“Hey,” you say, smiling between a yawn. It feels good to stretch out. You look over to Frankie only to find him dozing off. You have to stifle a giggle at the sight. Typical Frankie Fashion. 

“He looks tired,” You whisper quietly. 

“Yeah, he really does,” Santi says, his voice laced with humor. “Fuckin’ deserves the sleep, though, we tired him out.” 

“We really did, He was practically in the middle the entire time.”  

You both laugh quietly as Santi pulls you closer into his side. He gives you the slowest kiss you’ve received the whole night. 

“Did you have a good birthday, sweetheart?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Of course, baby, it was perfect,” you say. And you mean it, even if you might not be able to walk for a week. Frankie will definitely be back. 

[belovedspector]

Secret Santa

Pairing: Joel Miller x gn!reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: Pre-outbreak, fluff, use of pet names (sweetheart)

A/N: It’s been a minute since I posted any of my writing! Honestly, I just wasn’t feeling inspired at all and didn’t want to force myself to write. This idea suddenly popped into my head, and I ran with it. Enjoy, and Merry Christmas! :)

Masterlist

The tree goes up the day after Thanksgiving. It’s a nice tree, not too big or too small. It sits in front of the living room window that faces the street, the mix of colorful and white lights reflecting softly against the glass. It’s almost perfect, except…it doesn’t seem to have any ornaments.

Joel steals glances at his neighbor’s house throughout the day, but nothing changes. Days pass, and the tree stays bare, save for the lights.

That just won’t do, Joel thinks to himself.

Joel wouldn’t say that he knows you very well. You’re friendly with one another, sure, but in a surface-level, neighborly kind of way. He knows you moved in across the street less than a year ago and that you live alone. He knows that you’ve been feeding the stray cat that roams the neighborhood. He knows you’re cute, though he tries not to think about that too much. He’s got his hands full with Sarah, anyway, he tells himself.

It’s still November, but the stores have had their Christmas displays up since Halloween, so he has no trouble finding what he’s looking for. He finds a cute, little ornament that bears a striking resemblance to that stray cat you seem to like so much, with a Santa hat adorned on its head. He can’t help but smile softly as he buys it, and he puts it in a box, intending to give it to you on December 1st. That should be the end of it.

He doesn’t mean for it to get as out of hand as it does, really. He thought he’d get you the one ornament and leave it at that. But, every time he goes out, a new, sparkly object catches his eye, and he can’t help himself.

Sarah catches on quickly. “Since when are you so full of Christmas cheer?” she asks him when he stops to look at ornaments during their weekly grocery shopping trip.

He tries to brush it off, but she won’t let it go, so he tells her his plan.

“Finally,” Sarah says with what sounds like relief.

“And just what is that supposed to mean?” Joel asks.

“You’ve had a crush for months. It’s about time you made a move.”

Joel feels the tips of his ears heat up. Had he really been that obvious? Or is his daughter just too damn nosy?

He quickly picks out an ornament—a simple snowflake—and changes the subject, asking Sarah what she wants for dinner that night as they head down the next aisle.

The night of November 30th, Joel pulls out the little box that contains the cat ornament. He feels like a creep as he crosses the street to leave the gift on your doorstep. He spares a glance at your tree through the window, still without decorations. He nods firmly to himself once, then carefully places the box on the center of your welcome mat, before making his way back to the safety of his own home. He hopes no one saw him.

You almost don’t see it. You’re rushing out the door, travel mug full of coffee in hand and still not fully slid into your shoes. Honestly, it’s a miracle you don’t trip over it. But, it does catch your eye, and you pause for a moment to pick it up, taking the time to get your shoes the rest of the way on while you’re stopped.

It’s a little, green box with a red bow. Your curiosity piqued, you carefully lift the lid. There, nestled among crumpled, white tissue paper, is a cat figurine wearing a Santa hat, with a loop of ribbon adhered to its head—an ornament. You pick up the cat and find a note folded underneath it.

Happy December -your Secret Santa

You look around, as if you expect this Secret Santa to jump out and shout, “Surprise!” The street is quiet, though, and you return your gaze to the note and its cramped handwriting.

You have no idea who could have done this. It’s not like you’ve really made any friends since moving to Austin over the summer, and none of your family lives close by. The move had been sudden, and you hadn’t been able to bring everything with you—like, for example, your holiday decorations. You had gotten a tree and new lights as soon as you were able to, but it just didn’t look right without the ornaments. You’d been meaning to get some, but the thought of filling the whole tree felt daunting, and you didn’t just want to cover it with generic baubles.

You can’t help but feel a rush of excitement run through you as you grasp the little cat ornament. The calico fur pattern looks exactly like your Bean (full name: Green Bean Casserole). Well, she’s not really yours yet, but you’ve slowly been gaining her trust in hopes of making her your own pet.

Smiling, you quickly go back inside to hang the Bean look-alike on your tree, making sure that it’s visible from the window.

You’re grinning as you double-check that your front door is locked and get into your car. The only thing that makes your smile waver is a glance at your car’s clock. Shit, now you really are late for work. You start your commute, feeling lighter than you have in months.

When Joel gets back from dropping Sarah off at school, he’s happy to see that, not only is the box off your step, but you’ve already hung up the cat ornament. You must have liked it, then. That’s good. Joel had been second-guessing himself, despite Sarah’s reassurances that his little plan was “adorable.” He’s smiling like a fool as he gets himself ready for his work day and heads off to the site to meet Tommy.

It happens again the next day. You’re doing much better on time this morning; you had time to drink your coffee in the kitchen, and your shoes are even all the way on your feet as you head out the door.

You look down at your mat, and, sure enough, there is another little box—this time, it has red and white stripes with a gold bow. You feel positively giddy as you open up the present. Today, you find a simple but elegant snowflake ornament, paired with another note.

There isn’t much snow in Austin, so this will have to do -your Secret Santa

Again, you go back inside to hang up your new ornament before heading off to work, more than ready to face the day.

“So, what’s tomorrow’s ornament?” Sarah asks during dinner.

Joel considers this for a moment before answering, “The gingerbread man, I reckon.”

Sarah’s face lights up. “Can we make cookies to go with it?”

“Well, I–” Joel sputters.

“Come on, Dad,” she pleads. “It’ll be great!”

“Would you eat cookies from a stranger?” he asks, pointing his fork at her.

“I mean, probably, if they looked good.” Sarah shrugs.

Joel puts his face in his hands and groans. “We’ve gotta work on your stranger danger skills, young lady.”

Sarah seemingly ignores him, getting up to clear the table before rummaging around in the kitchen cabinets.

Joel looks up, not at all surprised to see her gathering the ingredients to make cookies. With a sigh, he stands up to preheat the oven.

On the third day, you find a slightly bigger box on your doorstep. You open it to find three things: a gingerbread man ornament, another note, and a Ziploc bag of what look to be homemade gingerbread cookies. The note reads:

Had my little elf help with the cookies. Enjoy -your Secret Santa

You can’t help yourself; you immediately open the bag and take a whiff of the cookies. They smell delicious. You throw them in your work bag, intending on eating them during your lunch break.

“Those look good,” a voice calls from across the break room. It’s Angela, your work friend. Okay, “friend” is a strong word. Maybe she’s more of an acquaintance? It’s not like you ever hang out outside of work, but she’s friendly enough with you during work hours.

You pause with a cookie halfway to your mouth.

“Did you make them?” she asks as she takes a seat across from you.

“Oh, no,” you laugh. “My, um, Secret Santa made them.”

Angela’s eyes sparkle. “Oooh, who’s your Secret Santa?” she asks, leaning in.

“I don’t know,” you say. “It’s a secret.”

“It’s not a work thing, is it? I hadn’t heard anything.”

“No.” You shake your head. “Honestly, I have no idea who it could be. It has to be one of my neighbors. That’s all I can figure.”

“Wait, some random person made you cookies, and you’re eating them?”

“Well, I haven’t eaten one yet, but, yeah?” you say, your voice tilting up in question.

“What if they’re poisoned?” she gasps.

“I really don’t think any of my neighbors want to poison me.” You take your first bite of cookie. They taste even better than they smell, the warm spices dancing across your taste buds. With a shrug, you swallow and say, “I’ll take my chances, I guess.”

The ornaments keep coming. Every day, you find a new one waiting for you, and it’s becoming your favorite part of your morning routine. Today’s ornament was a glittery candy cane that you happily add to your growing collection.

It’s Saturday, and you’re outside getting your mail. It’s nice, the possibility that a Christmas card could be mixed in among the never-ending bills and junk mail. You quickly flip through the stack of envelopes and smile as you spot one from your aunt.

You’re about to head back inside when you hear a voice call your name. You look up to see your neighbor’s daughter, Sarah, on her bike. She comes to a stop on the street in front of you.

“Hey, Sarah,” you greet.

“Hi!” she says. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, I love your Christmas tree.”

You follow her eyes to your living room window. “Oh, thank you,” you say, turning back to her with a smile.

“I love the ornaments,” she continues. There is a look in her eye that you can’t quite place. She looks almost mischievous, but that doesn’t make any sense. She’s just being polite.

“Yeah, me, too.” You debate getting into the whole Secret Santa thing, but before you can say anything further, a truck comes down the street and parks in the Millers’ driveway.

“Oh, that’s my Uncle Tommy,” Sarah says. “I’ve gotta go. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” you call back as she pedals across the street and into the driveway, making like she’s going to run over her uncle as he exits his truck. Their laughter is infectious as they head inside. You feel the slightest pang of sadness as you watch them, but quickly shake it off and return to your own home.

It’s the evening of December 23rd—“Christmas Eve Eve,” as Sarah calls it. Joel is sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the final gift box. He feels as nervous as he did that first night at the end of November.

“Are you gonna chicken out?” Sarah asks as she pours herself a glass of water.

“No, I ain’t,” Joel insists, shaking his head.

“Then quit staring at that thing and go deliver it,” she says, rolling her eyes. Her expression softens as she adds, “It’s gonna be fine, Dad.”

Joel looks up at her earnestly. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

With a grunt, Joel stands up from the table, box in hand. Sarah whoops as he heads out the front door.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, you once again find a present waiting for you at your front door. Still in your pajamas, you quickly grab the box and close the door, heading over to your couch to examine it.

You open the box and gasp. Staring back at you is a wooden heart with the year engraved into the center. Based on its slightly rough edges, it appears to be hand-carved. Eagerly, you unfold the note that’s underneath it.

This is the last ornament. Hope you like it. I made it special -your Secret Santa

Along with the message, a phone number has been carefully scrawled across the bottom of the paper. Your heartbeat quickens as you stare at the digits. After twenty-four days, you can’t believe that you are finally going to find out who your Secret Santa is.

You feel butterflies fluttering in your stomach as you pick up the phone, your hand shaking slightly as you dial the number.

On the third ring, a voice answers, “Hello?” It’s a man’s voice, but you can’t place it.

You don’t know what to say. Your mouth feels very dry all of a sudden.

“Hello?” the voice says again, a little louder.

You exhale shakily. “Hi,” you manage to squeak out. “I’m, uh, trying to find out who my Secret Santa is?” God, you sound ridiculous. What if he doesn’t know what the hell you’re talking about? What if you dialed the wrong number? What if—?

Before your mind can spiral too far, the man on the other end of the line chuckles. “That would be me,” he admits sheepishly.

“And who would you be?” you ask breathlessly.

“Joel,” he says. “Joel Miller.”

Joel? Joel Miller is your Secret Santa? Sure, you’ve always tried to be friendly with him and his daughter, but you didn’t think you were at gift-giving levels of closeness with him. Secretly, you’d been crushing on Joel since you first moved into the neighborhood, but you’d done your best to tamp those feelings down.

“You still there, sweetheart?” Joel asks.

You realize that you’ve been silent for too long as your thoughts have been racing. “Um, yeah, Joel, still here,” you say.

Joel chuckles again, and you can tell there’s no malice behind it.

“The heart, did you make that yourself?” you blurt out, still turning the ornament over in your hand.

“I did,” he admits. “What’d you think?”

“I love it,” you tell him. “I’ve loved all of them. This has been my favorite Christmas in a long time.” Before you can lose your nerve, you add, “Could I treat you to dinner sometime? As a thank you?”

“Aw, you don’t have to—” Joel starts.

“But I want to, really.”

You can swear you hear the smile in Joel’s voice as he says, “Yeah, I’d like that. Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

“Merry Christmas, Joel.”

As the phone call ends, you let out a breath and lean back against the couch, head tilted up towards the ceiling.

Joel Miller was your Secret Santa. You were going to go on a date with Joel Miller. Okay, maybe you couldn’t call it a date, but still, it was something.

You hang up the phone and stand from the couch, heading over to the tree to add your newest ornament. As you finish hanging the wooden heart, you hear a meow from under the tree.

“Oh, hey, Bean.” You smile softly down at the cat lying on the tree skirt. You’d finally coaxed her into the house last week, and she was settling in quite nicely.

You admire your beautifully decorated tree, then sneak a glance to the Millers’ house across the street. The lights are on, making the space look warm and inviting. You smile again.

Yes, this was definitely shaping up to be your best Christmas yet, and you had a feeling there were many more to come.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to let me know what you think! :)

[whumpbug]

guys. guys this fic is a DOOZY. over 4k words total.

no one asked for it, no one requested it, but it literally came to me in a dream and i had to write it. this is really a rough draft and i haven't checked it over too much.... @whump-kia i hope the ending of this will suffice for your forehead kiss prompt (′ꈍᴗꈍ‵)

i hope you all enjoy it because i had such a good time brainstorming it, even if my writng was a bit stale at points...... BUT WHATEVER

(not necessary to read but here is character info as well as backstory that kinda shows up in the fic)

whumpee: Archie

caretaker: Simon

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

It was Simon’s finals week.

Archie knew this. He’d known for a while; Simon kept bringing it up in passing, quietly grumbling about his upcoming “week from hell”. All he talked about was how much he had to do.

But Archie knew what he was getting at. He knew what he really wanted to say.

I’m going to be busy. Don’t bother me. Leave me alone.

Well, Simon wouldn’t say it like that. Still, Archie got the message and he intended to respect his friend’s wishes.

He couldn’t blame him either. Having to spend all your free time suturing and cleaning up blood and setting broken bones had to get exhausting, even for someone as patient as Simon. Simon deserved at least the week-long break, if not more, of being free from dealing with Archie’s messes. 

All things considered, he had actually been doing pretty well without Simon’s intervention. The only real injuries he’d gotten during patrol were some nasty bruises that he viciously iced whenever he managed to drag himself back to his own apartment.

Now, he was on his 5th consecutive day of patrol, and his 5th consecutive day of leaving Simon alone.

...And he missed him.

But he made a promise, both to Simon and to himself, that he wasn’t going to burden him. He was going to follow through.

He crouched from his place on the rooftops, scanning the streets below him. It had been a pretty quiet night, which meant it had been a boring night. He was idly tossing a piece of brick up and down when he finally heard some commotion coming from below him.

There was a shout, a crash, and a figure booking it from the little store on the block, arms filled with goods.

Nice try.

Archie easily scaled down the wall and landed on the pavement, catching up to the thief almost immediately. A well-placed kick to the back of the knees caused the guy to go sprawling forward, and all the things he stole to scatter in front of him.

He let out a small grunt and slowly, painstakingly picked himself back up.

Upon looking closer, Archie could now see that the thief was.. a kid. he couldn't have been more than 14.

The kid scrambled away from Archie as fast as he could, turning to face him with a small pocket knife in his hand. The thing was rusty and chipped and trembled as he held it.

“S-Stay back..” The kid rasped. “You’re that vigilante f-from the papers, aren’t you..”

Now that Archie was really looking, he could see what he had been trying to steal in the first place. Littered on the sidewalk was some children’s ibuprofen, tissue packets, water bottles and a small can of chicken soup.

Archie met the kid’s eyes and saw that they were glazed over and unfocused. There was a flush on his cheekbones, one that Archie was all to familiar with. He frowned.

“Yeah, I am. What’s all this? You’re a little young to be stealing from convenience stores,” He said softly. "What's going on."

“You.. you don't get it.. you’re just going to send me to the police station..” The boy mumbled, scooting back slightly as if he was going to bolt at any second.

Archie fought the urge to laugh. Of course he would get it. It felt like looking into a mirror, a reflection of his own childhood.

He sighed.

“I won’t. Not until I hear you out, at least.”

The kid narrowed his eyes, really considering it before speaking

“..It’s my sister. She’s really sick. Haven’t seen my mom in days and.. we don’t have money for the medicine.”

Archie bit his lip. This wasn’t the first time he’d heard a story like that. He lived it for a good amount of time, after all. If anyone understood the kid, it was him. He gave him another once over.

“And what about you? You don’t look too good either, bud.”

“I’m fine,” He said quickly. “I just wanted to get stuff for my sister. She’s six. She needs it more than I do.”

Archie ran a hand through his hair in thought. There was no way in hell he was turning this kid in, even if he technically did do something wrong.

An idea suddenly dawned on him.

“Okay. How about this? If you promise to stay here, I’ll go in and pay for all of this to get you off the hook. Then, I’ll go with you to get your sister and I’ll take you both to a clinic.”

The boy thought for a moment, almost considering it, but then his face fell. “No. We can’t afford medicine, what makes you think we can afford a doctor?”

Archie smiled. “No. It’s a free clinic. My friend has been helping organize it. They’ll look after you and your sister, no questions asked and no payment needed.”

Archie watched the kid mull it over. He figured he might be hesitant. The kid had no reason to trust this vigilante except for what he heard on the street.

On the other hand, he looked tired. Archie hoped he let someone take the burden of his stress, just for a little bit.

The boy almost looked like he wanted to argue again, but he was suddenly overtaken by a coughing fit. Archie furrowed his brows and gently patted his back.

“Fine,” The kid wheezed. “I’ll.. we’ll go to your clinic.”

Archie smiled and nodded.

Smoothing things over with the store clerk was easy enough, since Archie was a regular. All it took was some small talk and a decent tip to make the owner forget about his little delinquent situation.

When Archie came back out to the street, the boy was dozing, knees pulled to his chest with his knife clutched in his hand. He could see the flush of his cheeks peeking over his arm. Archie felt his heart clench. 

It reminded him far too much of his own battles with illness while living on the streets. He’d never forget the feeling of falling asleep on the sidewalk, not even able to rest fully lest your guard comes down. It disheartened him to see it still happening.

He slowly approached the kid, trying to give him enough time to notice, but it didn’t stop the kid from startling awake and launching his knife toward Archie.

Archie caught his wrist easily, and gently pulled it down.

“Sorry..” The boy mumbled, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“It’s okay. Let’s go get your sister, yeah?”

Archie offered to carry the kid. He could see he was flagging. He was clearly more sick than he was letting on, and Archie didn’t want to see him get worse. Still, he refused vehemently, and led Archie to his dingy apartment.

On the way to the clinic, Archie ended up carrying both the sister, and the boy.

Once they were situated with one of the volunteer nurses, Archie thanked her profusely and began making his way home. The night seemed to be staying pretty quiet, and he figured he could afford an extra hour of sleep.

As soon as he crossed the threshold of his apartment, the exhaustion hit him like a ton of bricks. He barely pulled off his shoes and half-unzipped his jumpsuit before he was falling bonelessly on his sofa and letting the world fall away.

••••

When Archie first woke up, it had just been a tickle in his throat.

He chalked it up to dehydration. He woke up as if emerging from a coma. Dried drool stained his chin, he was sporting a severe bedhead and every muscle in his body ached. He groggily wondered if Simon was getting enough sleep. He hoped so.

He peeled himself off of the couch, groaning at the feeling of his joints creaking as he got up.

As the grogginess cleared away, he went over the things he had to do today in his mind. He had two classes, his first one starting in only half an hour. Alright. Plenty of time.

He briskly showered, brushed his teeth, got dressed, and packed his bag for school. The tickle in his throat had transformed into more of an ache, but he didn’t think much of it. It was probably just the dry air.

He grabbed his keys and left.

His first class went by in a blur. He couldn’t explain it, but it felt like time was moving as if through molasses. He’d swear an hour had passed, and look up to see it's been barely fifteen minutes. It was torture.

To make things worse, the ache from before had progressed into the need to keep clearing his throat, which, in a silent lecture hall, was the last thing he wanted.

He had given up on taking notes, opting to focus on making the least amount of noise possible. He kept his water bottle close by.

He felt distracted. He kept thinking about that boy from the previous night. He really didn't look good. He hopes the volunteer nurses were able to take good care of him.

When the class was finally over, Archie all but sprinted out of the room only to double over with a coughing fit that shook his entire body.

Huh. That's weird. Wasn't coughing like this earlier.

He stayed hunched over in the hallway for a few minutes more to catch his breath before straightening and heading to the library to work on some of his assignments until his next class.

As soon as he was sitting down in the squashy chair by the window, though, he conked out before he could even open his laptop.

 ••••

He awoke with a jolt, feeling his heart sink when he realized the sun was no longer streaming through the large window. Instead, he could see his reflection in the dark from outside.

He slept through his class.

“No.. no no no no..” He whined, looking around frantically. No one was around. People must be getting ready to head home. He whipped out his phone.

He’d fallen asleep at 3pm.

It was 8:30.

He ran a hand over his face, silently panicking. He didn't know what to do. This had never happened to him before, he'd never slept that long in public before.  

In the end, he had to accept it. There was nothing really to do. He packed his things and shamefully began making his way back home.

His throat had gotten worse, now coupled with an odd chill throughout his body and a heavy feeling in his chest. He felt somehow even more tired than before, despite his accidental five hour nap.

He was dragging his feet as he walked along the sidewalk. His head pulsed a bit. Once again, when he entered his cold, empty apartment, he felt the overwhelming pull of exhaustion threaten to drag him under.

He ignored it. His day wasn’t done yet.

He zipped on his Vigil jumpsuit and splashed some cold water on his face, trying to eke some kind of life back into his complexion. God, he was so tired. He chalked it up to still feeling groggy from his nap, and put on his brave face before heading out into the night.

His first stop was to deliver groceries to the little old lady that lived just a few floors down from him. He’d never typically interact with someone so openly as both Archie and Vigil, but she had bad vision and dementia, so he figured she was safe. She needed the help too, and he was more than happy to provide.

When he unloaded the groceries and helping her put them away, she ended up kissing his cheek and calling him the name of her son. He didn’t have it in him to tell her the truth, instead just smiling and telling her he'd be back next week.

On his way out, his breath hitched and he erupted into another coughing fit. He had to hold on to the railing as the force of the coughs nearly brought him to his knees.

He gasped for air as soon as it was over, head spinning. He soldiered on.

Next, he had to help unload some boxes for the old man named Chuy who owned the Mexican restaurant a few blocks away. Chuy would never ask for help, but he had thrown his back out twice in the same month, so Archie couldn't just leave him to deal with it on his own.

He had to be subtle about it.

He chatted with Chuy while he ordered some tacos de asada to go, and while he was distracted, he was already lifting the boxes into the storage room for him. He was silently grateful for Simon’s mini Spanish lessons, as he was able to hold the conversation for a bit longer this time.

When he was done, Chuy clapped him on the back, thanking him as he sent him on his way with a few extra tacos on the house.

For some reason, Archie couldn’t seem to stomach the thought of eating anything. He ended up passing them off to a random bystander, and heading to his next and last scheduled destination. He needed to check on that kid.

Again, it had been another quiet night. Archie was silently grateful. Usually, between his little excursions as Vigil, he would have to stop to break up a fight or reprimand a mugger, but the streets seemed as sleepy tonight as he was.

And boy was he tired. He was starting to wish he slept longer in the library, because his nap had seemed to do nothing for him. Not to mention that the heaviness in his chest had only gotten worse and his bouts of coughing more frequent.

He also felt even more chilled than before. His skin was overly sensitive, and even the fabric of his jumpsuit was beginning to irritate it. He sighed.

Simon would know what to do.

His chest ached in a way that had nothing to do with the coughing.

He snapped himself back to the present when he realized he’d finally reached the clinic. Alright. Final errand, then you can go home and crash. You don’t need Simon to help you. You can handle this.

He puffed out his chest a bit and approached the woman standing at the front counter.

“Oh! It’s you! You're the one who brought in those siblings last night, yes?” She chirped, taking him by the elbow and leading him inside.

“Mhm! That was me!” He beamed. " I just came to check up on them and see how they were doing, especially that boy."

The woman paused. She pursed her lips.

“..His sister is fine. She just had a bit of a fever, but nothing a little ibuprofen couldn't fix. As for the boy.. well, you’d better follow me.”

Archie felt his heart drop to his stomach. Had he done something wrong? Had he been too late?

The woman led him to one of the curtained-off rooms of the clinic and quietly pulled it open.

Archie let out a tiny gasp.

The boy was lying in the cot, completely limp. He was pale and sweaty and his eyebrows were pinched together in fitful consciousness.

The most alarming part, however, was the ventilator he was strapped to.

“It started as your typical flu,” The woman began. “Much like his sister’s. We're assuming that because he didn't get enough rest when he needed it, it quickly turned into pneumonia. He’s been in and out of sleep for a few hours now.”

Archie walked forward in a daze, sinking into the chair beside the boy. He took his hand. 

“Is he..um..” The words went unsaid.

“He’s going to be alright. We managed to catch it before he became even more serious, thanks to your intervention. He and his sister are tough. They’ll pull through.”

Archie released a breath, stifling a cough into his shoulder.

“That’s.. okay, that’s good,” He whispered, giving the boys hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll be back to check on them soon.”

“I’ll be sure to tell them you stopped by. You have a good night, okay?"

Archie smiled and nodded.

The rest of the evening went by in a blur of small talk and random tasks. For some reason, Archie couldn’t seem to focus. He found himself zoning out during conversations and, of course, apologizing profusely. When he finally decided to throw in the towel and head home, it was close to midnight.

God, he couldn’t wait to be home.

He passed by Simon’s apartment on his way back. Any thoughts of meeting him were quickly abandoned when he saw that the light was out in his window. He must be getting some sleep. Archie smiled at the thought of Simon resting after a long day of studying.

He really couldn’t wait to see him again.

He finally made it to his building and staggered up the stairs. At the top, he felt another tickle in his lungs that had him holding on to the railing as his body jolted with every harsh cough. It felt like his lungs had weights in them. He clawed at his chest.

He pushed open the door to his apartment, hardly even bothering to lock it behind him before he was hunched with another round of coughing. The ache in his throat had quickly become searing pain, and the chills he felt earlier had become full-blown bodily shivers. His knees buckled. He was still coughing.

He thought about Simon again. He knew he should call him, but he just didn’t have it in him. He couldn’t be a burden, he just couldn’t.

The coughing finally let up. Archie panted for air. 

He managed to crawl to the couch, every inch of his body just craving sleep. He hauled himself up and collapsed listlessly.

He didn’t even have the energy to unzip his jumpsuit or remove his shoes before he was already falling into a restless sleep.

 ••••

Archie was back in the alley.

Everything was the same, but he looked down at himself and realized that he wasn’t. He was bigger now. Older. The dealers didn’t seem to notice him.

He took an experimental step forward. 

Suddenly, they turned their gaze to his left, grinning. He blinked and he was in Simon’s apartment. He didn't remember this.

Archie followed the men’s gazes and-- oh.

Oh no.

Simon stood there, back turned and somehow unaware of what was happening. The men began to approach him with the needle. The same needle that hurt Archie all those years ago. The same needle that made him the monster he is today. He felt the panic bubble up in his chest, coming out in violent, painful gasps.

“Simon! Simon, run away! Please Simon, run!” He said, but his words died on his lips. He was paralyzed. There was nothing he could do. 

••••

Archie awoke with a start, the force of his coughing launching him up to sitting. He gasped for air, scrambling to his feet. He was already out the door before he was even breathing properly.

He needed to get to Simon. He couldn’t let those men hurt him, not like they did him. He needed save him.

He was staggering down the street. All he could hear was the pounding of his own head and the stomping of his feet on the pavement. His body was moving in autopilot. 

He had to stop and lean against a wall to cough again. He was left panting. Part of him just wanted to give up and collapse then and there. He was so tired. Everything felt wrong and he was having trouble even walking in a straight line.

But he couldn’t give up on Simon.

He pushed forward.

When he finally began the arduous climb up the steps of Simon’s building, black dots appeared in his vision. He was wheezing.

He lifted a hand to knock on Simon’s door, but found that it was too weak to produce a sound. He let it fall back down to his side as his knees gave out.

He coughed, but it turned into another gasp. He couldn’t breathe.

Tears welled in his eyes. He was too late. He couldn’t save him. He couldn’t save him, just like he couldn’t save himself.

He clawed at the door as he clung to his last strand of consciousness.

••••

Simon was startled awake by the sound of someone clambering up the stairs to his floor, and immediately went on the defensive. He sprung out of bed, snatching up the bat he kept near his bed and stomping right up to his door, yanking it open and-- oh.

Oh. Oh god.

“Shit, Archie!” He shouted, letting the bat clatter to the floor.

Archie--no, Vigil, based on the jumpsuit-- wasn’t breathing right. He was wheezing, almost gurgling, on his own air. Suddenly, he pitched forward with violent coughs, as if all the breath was being forced out of his lungs.

Simon caught him by the shoulders and patted his back firmly, trying to gather his thoughts and figure out what the hell to do. Archie clung to him like a small child, and Simon nearly pulled back at the unnatural heat he felt.

God Archie, what did you do?

Archie had a strict no hospital rule. They established this early on in their relationship. As much as Simon wanted to respect it, this was serious. This was perhaps even beyond his abilities to fix. Archie’s lips were turning blue, and he Simon knew that wasn't promising.

In a quick spur-of-the-moment rationalization, Simon figured that maybe Vigil couldn’t go to the ER, but Archie definitely needed to. 

“Alright Archie, cmon.. stay with me..” He murmured, pulling him inside and shutting the doors. 

As deftly as he could, he pulled off the Vigil jumpsuit and stuffed Archie into some of his own clothes. Archie's body was alarmingly pliable. He cursed the time they were wasting, but he needed to get Archie into civilian clothing before they headed to the ER.

Archie was not all the way there, but in a moment of fleeting awareness, he looked around the room and let out a little gasp.

“Th.. needle..?” He murmured, looking as if seeing something that wasn’t there.

Simon kneeled in front of him, cupping his cheek. God, he was burning. “There’s nothing here. It’s just me. Simon. It’s just me, Archie.”

Archie suddenly blanched, doing a double take around the room. There were textbooks and papers scattered about, as well as copious amounts of energy drinks. Tears began to well in Archie’s eyes.

“Finals..Si.. S’mon.. so sorry.. m’bothering you..” Archie slurred, wheezing between every syllable.

Simon stared at him blankly before huffing a pained laugh. Only Archie would be on death's door and still worry about cutting into Simon's cram time.

“You’re not serious.. oh Archie.. fuck..” He breathed, yanking Archie up into a fireman’s carry.

They would have to discuss this later. They were wasting precious seconds they might not have.

Once settled into the car, Archie burst into more vicious, wet coughs. This fit was the worst by far. He couldn’t stop choking long enough to get a single breath in. His eyes were glazing over. Simon had to pat his cheek to bring him back to consciousness once he was able to inhale again.

As soon as he was stable enough, Simon put the fucking pedal to the metal.

He ended up making the twenty-five minute drive to the hospital in fifteen.

Archie was seen immediately, which both comforted and concerned Simon.

He buried his face into his hands.

Was this his fault? Should he have checked in with Archie more often while on his hiatus? More than anybody, Simon was aware of Archie’s poor self-care habits. He should have known Archie would avoid coming to him with a problem for fear of disturbing him.

He didn’t know how many times he had to tell Archie he didn't mind until it stuck in his mind.

Simon sighed and prayed to anybody that was listening that his friend was going to be okay.

After an impossibly long hour and a half, Simon was finally called back to Archie’s room.

When he entered, he felt his breath catch in his chest. 

Simon wasn’t a crier. He wasn’t naturally prone to tears like Archie was, yet when he saw the sight of his friend hooked up to a myriad of tubes like the patients he treated every day, his vision blurred.

“Oh Archie..” He murmured, rushing to the side of the bed. His hand hovered for a moment before gently landing on the side of Archie’s face. He had an oxygen mask strapped to him and he was sleeping, but it didn’t look restful.

The doctor rattled off the details of Archie’s condition. Ironically, this was the material Simon was supposed to be studying for anyways. 

Archie had contracted severe, sudden onset pneumonia. The doctor suspected he’d contracted it from someone, but they’d have to wait until Archie woke up to confirm.

They currently had him on a defibrillator and antibiotics, as well as fluids and fever reducers. Though his condition was dire when he came in, he was being treated properly and would be fine.

Simon sank into the chair beside the bed, finally exhaling with relief.

Archie was going to be fine.

He scooted up closer and slipped his hand into Archie’s, running his thumb along the back of it.

“You’re an idiot. You know that?” He whispered, finally content to just be by his side.

••••

When Archie woke up, he felt like someone was sitting on his chest.

Seriously.

It felt like he was being crushed.

He blinked his eyes open, squinting at the bright lights.

He recognized immediately that this was not home.

His breath hitched as he tried to sit up, but it caught in his throat and he began coughing. It was then that he noticed the mask around his face and the needles in his arm-- oh god.

He whimpered sharply, already reaching to rip out the IVs in his arms. His wrist was caught by a familiar hand.

“Hey. Hey Archie. Look at me. Can you do that?”

Archie swallowed and reluctantly brought his gaze to meet the person beside him. Simon.

“You’re okay. You’re in the hospital. You have pneumonia, you showed up at my doorstep and collapsed. You’re here as Archie, okay? Not Vigil. You’re safe,” He explained softly, pulling Archie’s hand away from the IVs. “These are just for your antibiotics and fluids, okay? Nothing bad.. it's okay.”

Archie still felt panic blooming in his chest at the sight of the needles, but they were different enough from the syringe he was actually scared of that he was able to take Simon’s words to heart and settle.

He was too tired to be worked up anyways. He felt the exhaustion deep in his bones, and it ached. He whined softly, breath rattling in his chest.

Simon reached a hand up and carded it through Archie’s hair, smiling down gently at him. He used his other hand to rub gentle circles with his thumb along the back of his hand.

“I’m.. really glad you’re okay..” He whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to Archie’s warm brow.

Archie had many things to say, but they were all forgotten as soon as Simon’s lips met his skin. He melted. He felt a dopey smile creep up on his face and he fluttered his eyes shut.

Whatever he needed to say could wait until the morning.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

i think i have one request, what about a sick jisung with the flu who has to miss the new year's eve party almost everyone is attending except for minho who chose to stay and welcome the new year with him even if it's just in his bed with tissues and maybe a bucket by his side, watching some kind of romcom until the fireworks light up the sky

(Set in the old dorms)

“You guys can go without me. Really, I’ll be okay here. It’s just a little cold anyway. I’ll probably just sleep the night away, you don’t have to waste your new year on me.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. But make sure you take you take you medicine and drink lots of water. The flu is no joke.” Chan said. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Jisung nodded.

“Promise?” 

“I promise.” he said, hooking pinkies with Chan, before ducking into his elbow to let out a harsh cough. 

“You guys have fun without me, alright?” Jisung said, parting ways with Chan. 

Jisung flopped onto his bed. He stayed there peacefully, but that peace didn’t last long, as he felt bile rising in his throat. Since the rest of his members were distracted getting ready to go, he slipped off to the bathroom, hoping to be able to be sick alone. He fell in front of the toilet, barely having time to open the lid before letting out a wet belch, a fountain of the little he’s eaten today spewing out painfully. The acidity burned his already sore throat. Tears spilled down his face, mixing with the remnants of vomit splashed on his face.

When he finally got a break, he leaned back against the wall, hearing a knock on the door.

Shit, he’s been caught.  He really didn’t want any of his members with him right now. He can handle his own.

“Hannie, can I come in?” Minho. Jisung has a soft spot for Minho. Maybe he can let him in. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have Minho take care of him.

He scooted himself to the door, quickly reaching up to unlock it. He scurried back to the toilet, feeling the second wave of vomit on its way up. Minho opened the door just as Jisung lost whatever was left in his stomach.

He cringed in sympathy, dropping to his knees and rubbing jisung’s sweaty back who instantly leaned into his touch. 

It didn’t take long before he had run out of stomach contents to bring up and was left dry heaving over the tainted water, occasionally coughing.

“Hannie I think you’re empty.” Minho stood, grabbing one of the little paper cups by the sink usually used to wash their mouths with water after brushing their teeth and filling it with water. He handed it to jisung who swirled the water around in his mouth before spitting it out, hoping to get rid of the foul taste left in his mouth. Minho took the cup and refilled it, passing it back to Jisung. 

“Drink it this time.”

Jisung complied of course.

“I’m going to stay back with you.”

“Nooo.” Jisung whined, laying his face on the toilet seat, almost blending in with the porcelain with how white his face was. In truth, Jisung wanted Minho to stay back. But he would never admit that.

“Okay Ji. Couch or bed?”

“Couch.”

He helped Jisung to get comfy on the couch, setting him up with a bucket and a box of tissues. Once he was all situated, Minho went to inform Chan that he was going to stay back, who was relieved that Jisung wouldn’t be alone all night while sick. He waved the rest of the group goodbye before voyaging back to the living room, the quiet hun of hans snores, who had fallen asleep sitting up. Minho sat down carefully onto the couch as to not wake the sleepy quokka. Jisung leaned into Minho’s warmth, feeling chilly from his fever. Minho cozied up under the blanket with him, placing his hand on Han’s forehead lightly, unsurprised at how warm he felt. Jisung rested his head against Minho’s shoulder. 

The next time the pair woke up was just about midnight, just in time to see the fire works. The colors bursted in the sky beautifully. Luckily, they’re dorms are far away that it’s not crazy loud and the just get to enjoy the colorful show. 

Although it was pretty, Han felt his stomach stirring. He urgently grabbed the bucket off the floor and put it between his legs, quickly drawing Minho’s attention from the fireworks display. He felt his hands combing through his hair, the sensation immediately relaxing him. The gagging was painful, his stomach had nothing left to give, it was turning inside out to try and find something to send up. Somehow, this was ten times worse than really throwing up. When his stomach did manage to bring something, it burned through his whole body, mostly containing bile and the little water he had drunk earlier. 

When he was finished, he practically collapsed back into the couch, strings of saliva still hanging from his chin. Almost immediately breaking out in a coughing fit. Minho grabbed a tissue and started to clean him up.

“‘Went out my nose. :(“

“Here, blow.” Minho held the tissue to Han’s nose, who (all though he found it kinda awkward and gross to do so) did as commanded and blew. Minho didn’t seem to find it awkward at all. 

Once they had settled back down, Minho carried Jisung (who was only about half asleep and probably could have walked himself, but wanted to be carried, like a child.) bridal style back to bed. He went to exit the room to his own bed for the night but was stopped by a shrill sickly voice.

“Can you stay?”

Minho smirked, “Oh so you’re awake now.”

“Shhh, just come cuddle with me.”

🫶