#i just want them all in a room making each other worse and more miserable

[potatoesandsunshine]

Mon/Tay/Perrin......... there's something there

[lisenberry]

141 when they find out reader has been crying:

(an earlier brain worm had me expanding this to all of them)

Price: He pulls you into his office and shuts the door. It barely closes before he turns on you, crossing his arms and looking down with his chin tucked against his chest. He rocks back on his heels once, twice, while he waits for you to spill.

You can only blink up at him, willing your tears not to fall while he's watching you so intently.

"What is it, sir?" You finally chance the use of your voice, but instantly regret it. Your miserable croak isn't hiding anything.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me why you've been crying." His tone is gruff, like sandpaper over rock salt, but his eyes soften imploringly.

For a minute, you want to tell him everything, but instead you just give in and cry harder. For a moment, he looks disappointed, but he simply pats you awkwardly on your shoulder and grabs a box of tissues from his desk drawer.

He motions to the sofa in the corner where you sob quietly for a half hour more while he finishes his paperwork. He doesn't know what's going on, but he's not going to let you do it alone.

Ghost: It doesn't matter where you hide, he finds you. The kitchen? He's in and out three times. Tea, a spoon for his tea, another tea. He crowds your space each time, no matter where you stand. Forcing you in circles as you try to keep your face averted.

For a silent man, he manages to make as much noise as possible to distract you to the point of almost asking him, "What the fuck, Simon?"

You finally move to a bathroom stall, but before long you hear the door open and two large boots stop just beyond the door. You know it's him by the size alone.

You hold your breath for a beat, and then two, so long that you wonder who is going to give in first. You know you've got about 3 minutes before you pass out. But just as you're about to stand up and face him, he turns and leaves without a word.

Exactly ten minutes later, he finds you in the rec room, dragging someone by the neck. It's not until Ghost kicks the man's knees out from under him, forcing him to kneel in front of you that you realize who it is. Some asshole from the other team who was giving you a hard time in training this morning.

With Ghost's knee pressed painfully between his shoulder blades, he grits out, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!"

He's not the reason you're crying, but watching his face turn ten shades of purple does make you feel a little better.

Gaz: He keeps his distance and hates to see people cry because it always makes him cry, too. He doesn't know why. Movies, talk shows, commercials, they just get him right in the feels.

But every time you look up, his golden eyes meet yours, glistening with empathy. You simply shake your head at him and go about your day, until eventually, you get a text.

You mad at me?

-No, I'm fine.

You sure?

-Yep.

Fucking xxxx again, innit?

Of course he'd be the one to guess right. He paid the most attention, listened when you talked and remembered every detail. To be honest, he'd been the one you confided in the most for that reason.

He took your silence as a confirmation.

I hid some ice cream in the freezer. Unless Soap got to it first.

Soap: You head back to the kitchen again in search of the contraband ice cream, hoping it's the good mocha chip flavor you love, only to find Soap has beaten you to it. He innocently scoops out the last bite before seeing your face crumble and guiltily tosses it into the sink.

"Och, shit. Was that yours?"

"No, it's okay." Could this get any worse?

After dealing with these four, you just give up and slink back to your room.

"You know what you need?" He charges you before you can get any further.

"No, Johnny, don't!" Not one to listen, he pulls you up over his shoulder in one swoop and fireman carries you out to the gym.

"We're going to sweat it out, yeah? Always makes me feel better. Whether it's fighting or fucking is up to you."

You finally laugh at the absurdity of it, for the first time all day.

[miabebe]

Reverse Trope Series - Too Many Beds (Teaser)

You shared 25 years of your life with Seunghceol, what was another 4 nights right?

Pairing - Choi Seungcheol x reader

Word Count - 488 for the teaser ( The full fic is around 11k, give or take? It was supposed to be below 2K, I fucked up)

Genre - Enemies to lovers? Frenemies to lovers? Lovers to lovers? Idk man, these two are idiots and I love making them pine hehe

Warnings - none for the teaser, maybe an reference to Seungcheol's dick

Estimated posting date - 6th July, 5pm KST (I don't have a taglist but I am happy to tag if anyone wants? Just drop comment or send an ask/message :)

Edit - It's out! Read here :)

“Absolutely not.” 

“No way in hell.” 

Seungcheol glared at you as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“I’m not sharing a room with him.” 

“I don’t wish to even breathe in her vicinity.” 

“Then maybe I should do mankind a service by being around you more.”

“The only way you can help mankind is by shutting your mouth.” Seungcheol leaned closer, his voice dropping. “You’re not pretty enough for all the stupidity that comes out of it.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Rich coming from you. If I had a face like yours, I’d sue my parents.” 

“Aw, fifth graders can insult better than you sweetheart.” 

“That was a fact darling.”

“Ah” The two of you turned to the receptionist, finally remembering her presence as her confused eyes flickered between you and Seungcheol. “So the two of you are dating?” 

Looking at her incredulously and with unadulterated disgust, the two of you immediately took a step back. 

“No!” 

“No!” 

“I’d rather stub my pinky toe on furniture everyday that date her-” 

“And I’d rather choke on my own spit everyday than date him-”

“Oh baby, I knew you were a desperate one. How about I give you something to better to choke on-”

“Honey, are you sure? I heard you can stack fruit loops on that puny thing-” 

“Enough!” The old woman behind the counter got to her feet, putting her hands on her hips, the never-ending squabbling finally getting to her. “If either of you say another word, I will personally put you both in the tiniest broom closet I can find and trust me, the ones in this lodge are devastatingly small.” 

You immediately shut up, dreading that idea more than anything. Seungcheol too became uncharacteristically and thankfully, quiet.

“Now, as far as your room is concerned, your company booked only one room, number-” She glanced at the paper in her hand and pulled out a pair of keys from the drawer. “- 68. If you can bear each other for 4 nights, well and good, get moving. If not, then take your things and get out of here. Good luck finding another lodge in this miserable weather.” 

And as though on cue, a bright light, followed by a loud thunder flooded the room, taking aback all three of its inhabitants. From the corner of your eye you saw Seungcheol visibly gulp, well aware of his fear of thunder.

Seungcheol too heard the way you sniffled, knowing that your rhinitis would only get worse with the humidity rising outside.

Sighing with the realization that there was no way out of this, both of you reached for the keys at the same time, making the old woman snatch it faster than the damn lightning to avoid yet another fight from breaking out.

Ringing for the bellboy, she handed him the keys before he took your suitcase and Seungcheol’s bag in one hand each, leading the way to your despair of the night. 

[dfortrafalgar]

hihi

I hope you're doing well :>

Can I request a law x reader period comfort fic that's just pure fluff. with the back rubs and all the good stuff??

Thanks!!

thank you so much for your request anon! I actually got two period-related requests, so i decided to combine them into one fic, i hope that's alright! im currently under the onslaught of the red devil myself as of right now, so writing this was perfect for me. i hope its perfect for you both as well!!!

Warm Away the Pain

Law x Fem Reader

Heat pads, chocolates, and painkillers are nice, but nothing helps your period more than being in the presence of the Surgeon of Death.

Warnings: some suggestive language, mild descriptions of period symptoms, menstruation in general! lots of fluff with our favorite surgeon <3

“Just take this thing out of me!”  Your tears were streaming rapidly down your puffy cheeks as you forced open the door to the medical bay, clutching your abdomen and hunching over with the agony ripping through your gut.  Your cramps had days where they were better or worse, but today seemed to be the most awful they had ever been.  You had barely been able to walk from the Captain’s quarters to the medical ward, the force of each step against the cold metal floors of the Polar Tang sending another stabbing burn directly through your uterus.  It wasn’t like you were new to experiencing menstruation aboard a deep-sea submarine, either, but today seemed particularly keen on making you as miserable as humanly possible.  

Law was caught by surprise when you entered, your voice cracking as you sobbed.  His golden eyes were wide with shock as he turned in his chair to face you, ignoring the stack of paperwork he was previously fixated on and immediately standing, crossing the floor in broad steps to capture your face in his hands.  His thin eyebrows were scrunched in concern, a prominent crease in the skin above his nose.  “Hey, baby, breathe for me,” he coaxed, rubbing your swollen, tear-stricken skin with the pad of his thumb.  “Breathe.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

You knew you were being irrational.  You had dealt with cramps for years before you met Law, but when you had spent the better part of six hours with nonstop scorching irons being driven through your uterus, rationality was the furthest thing from your mind.  You sunk into your boyfriend’s shoulder, his lanky arms looping around you to support your weary form, carefully guiding you to the hard examination table in the corner of the medical room.

“My cramps…” you heaved.  “They’re so bad.  I’m in so much pain.  I just want you to take this damn thing out of me.  Put me out of my misery, even.”

Law’s tiny smile was sympathetic as he gazed down at you, one hand stroking your forehead and the other placed gently above your lower abdomen, providing fleeting touches over where your shirt covered your skin.  Your muscles definitely felt tender, and you were certainly bloated, all tell-tale symptoms of a particularly bad menstruation cycle.

“How about we start with painkillers and some external remedies,” he offered, his usually stoic, cold voice now soft and soothing as he placed a fleeting kiss over your nose.  The privacy that the medical bay provided allowed him to comfortably litter you with tender affection away from the prying eyes of your crewmates.  “When you start to feel better, and you still want a hysterectomy, we can discuss it.”

Your eyes slowly opened, darting to meet him.  “A hysterectomy?”

“The surgical removal of your uterus,” he clarified.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows slightly.  “Maybe not…” you muttered.  “Let’s go with your painkiller idea.”

Your sudden attitude switch made a small chuckle bubble from Law’s lips as he turned away from you and paced toward the medicine cabinet, procuring a decently sized pill and a small metal cup of water.  The white capsule was in the palm of his hand when he returned to your front, holding the items out for you to take.  Despite the uncomfortable size of the medicine, you swallowed it with no issue helped by a generous gulp of the lukewarm water from the Tang’s filtration tap.  The mild, salty aftertaste of the refined liquid lingered on the back of your tongue.

“That should take about 30 minutes to kick in,” Law muttered, taking the cup from your hand once more to sanitize it.  “In the meantime, we can try some other remedies.”

“What do you have?” you asked, gazing skeptically around the dark, sterile room.

“We have a few heat pads that Ikkaku brought with her when she joined, a bath, cinnamon or ginger tea…” he rambled, cleaning out and drying the cup, turning around to lean against the counter to face you.  “Massages can help relieve the tension in your muscles.  Or you can orgasm.”

Heat rushed to your face.  “How do you know that?”

Law’s own cheeks tinted with a very faint blush.  “Reading,” he stated bluntly.

The gaze he directed toward you told you everything you needed to know- he had done more than his fair share of research on feminine health as soon as the two of you solidified your relationship.  But as much as the idea of being swept off your feet by your doting captain and carried to your shared quarters for some time under the sheets sounded tempting, the rippling cramps flowing through your lower belly silenced the sultry thought almost instantaneously.

“A massage sounds pretty nice… and a hot bath…” you muttered, awkwardly fiddling with your fingers.

You were half expecting Law to simply nod and tell you to run yourself a bath, leaving him alone to continue his work in peace and quiet.  The surprise that jolted you from your quiet demeanor was more than welcome, however, when he stepped across the room to plant a swift kiss against your soft lips.  His own were curled in a small grin, reserved yet still so genuine that it made your heart flutter within the confines of your ribcage.

“If you give me about 10 minutes to clean up here,” he began, nodding his head in the direction of his paperwork left on the counter from when you originally entered, “... then I’ll meet you in the washroom.  Alright?”

With heat thrumming through your veins, your boyfriend’s proximity so close you could feel the way his scent practically blanketed around you, you meekly nodded, barely uttering a peep.  He helped you down from the examination table, his calloused hand firmly holding yours, and placed one more kiss against the back of your neck as you exited the medical bay and began your trek to the Polar Tang’s washroom.  The entire submarine only had one designated bathing area, with a few shower stalls and a toilet and sink, along with a deep, metal bathtub in the corner.  While the crew usually followed a strict schedule for bathing time, it was very rare that anyone would be using the space in the middle of the day.

A grin tugged on your lips as you walked through the narrow corridors.

—

You were already submerged in the bathtub when Law entered, steam rising off the surface of the water as you sunk yourself up to your neck in the hot liquid, a thin layer of lavender-scented bubbles floating around the surface of the water and covering bits of your glistening skin.  Your eyes were closed in bliss as the sweet, herbal scent decompressed you from the inside out, but Law’s delicate chuckle broke you from your trance.  He had a small, unlabeled bag in his hands which he placed on the sink counter.

“Looks like you barely need a massage,” he hummed, slipping his shirt over his head and folding it neatly on top of your clothes.  He had absolutely zero need to remove his shirt if he didn’t plan on sitting in the tub with you, but you weren’t about to complain against the wonderful view presented to your sight.

“I still need a massage,” you quickly quipped back, sitting up straighter in the hot water.  You leaned your arms out over the side, hands flexing in a motion to encourage your beloved to come closer and grace your taught skin with the presence of his deft fingers.  Your eyes found the bag Law had entered the bathing room with.  “What’s in the bag?”

Law took the parcel and, after slipping off his socks, knelt beside the bathtub next to you.  He opened the paper container and held it out in front of you.  “Milk chocolates.”

Your eyes lit up, a sopping wet hand dipping into the bag to procure one of the bite-sized morsels, an aluminum wrapping surrounding the sweet.  You carefully unwrapped it with eager hands and glittering eyes as Law watched, the corners of his eyes creased with his smile.  When the chocolate finally passed your lips and sat on your tongue, you melted further into the bathtub, the sweetness of the candy flowing and mixing effortlessly with the supple scent of lavender floating through the air.  Law almost dropped the bag to grab your shoulders, afraid you would slip under the water.

“Law, you’re too good to me,” you mumbled, your eyes closed and your lips pursed as you sucked on the chocolate, savoring the sweetness on your tongue.

“No such thing as ‘too good’ in my eyes,” he retorted, a playful lilt in his voice.  He returned the bag to the sink counter before taking his place behind your shoulders, stretching his hands before they found purchase against your skin.

Law was good at many things, but the way his fingers worked the knots out of your back and shoulders was a level of bliss unlike any other.  Sure, food, bathing, and sex were great, but the feeling of your muscles pulling apart and relaxing with each rotation of his wrists and press of his thumb pads into your soft skin was euphoric.  He worked out taught portions you didn’t even know you had, your shoulders slowly sinking downward as he rubbed you into oblivion.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, his voice low, reverberating off of the metal walls surrounding you.

“Like I could die happily at any moment,” you replied, the chocolate in your mouth now fully melted and gone down your throat.  “Has anyone ever told you you’re a god with those hands of yours?”

Law chuckled, the feeling of his shoulders bouncing coming through his hands on your skin.  “Once or twice.  This girl on my crew likes to tell me that.  Not sure if you’ve ever met her.”

Your lips curling into a smirk, you happily played along with his banter.  “Hmm… can’t say I have.  Describe her for me?”

“She’s really over dramatic.  She came into my office this morning complaining about some period cramps.  I’ve seen her take hits from swords and bullets on the battlefield with less griping.”  A laugh bubbled from his chest as you swiftly pivoted below the water, splashing his bare skin with the warm bath water.

“Well I think she was being perfectly rational!” you retorted, leaning back against the tub and allowing your boyfriend to resume his ministrations against a particularly rough not off to the left side of your spine.  “Period cramps are no laughing matter.”

“So I’ve heard…” he mumbled back, his smirk remaining on his face as he worked.  “It’s alright, though.  She’s cute when she whines.”

More heat flowed through your arteries, unrelated to the temperature of the bath you were submerged in.  If you stayed in here any longer, you were convinced you might pass out by overheating.  Wouldn’t be the first time, the water heater in the Tang’s boiler room was no joke.

Law leaned forward once more and placed a smattering of kisses along your damp shoulders.  “Really, though, how are you feeling?  Has the bath helped?”

You nodded, leaning your head back against his tattooed chest, your eyes closed.  “I’m feeling a whole lot better… still pretty achy, but I think the pain medicine has finally kicked in.  My cramps aren’t nearly as bad as they were this morning.”  

Law’s hands traveled from your shoulders to your arms, basically draping his body over you to rub tender circles against your inner wrists, submerging his own hands under the water.  “As much as I hate to ruin the moment, it’s not good to stay in a hot bath for too long.”  He took your hands from below the surface, holding your palms inward to face you.  “You’re pruning.”

Indeed, the pads of your fingers had become incredibly wrinkled with how long you had been bathing.  Your palms were showing prominent ridges in your skin.  “All good things must come to an end,” you uttered wistfully, leaning forward to pull the plug on the bath drain.

“Not necessarily,” Law stated back firmly, standing up and stretching his lean back.  “I have the rest of the day free thanks to Uni and Clione’s watch shift.  Whatever you want to do to make you feel better, I’m here.”

You turned toward your boyfriend, eyes widened with pure shock.  “Are you serious?”

An affirmative nod and a sly smile answered you.  As the water drained from the basin, you gingerly stepped out of the tub and enveloped the Surgeon of Death in your arms, now desperate for another source of warmth as your skin pierced against the contrasting cold air of the surrounding bathroom.  “The entire day?” you asked, reaffirming what you had just heard.

“The next 13 or so hours,” he replied, his hands taking up their usual perch against the small of your back, rubbing small circles into the tiny knots situated near your rump just as he had been doing to your shoulders.

“You mean you have time to cuddle?  And read Sora?  Or make me something good to eat for dinner?”  Your eyes were practically shimmering as you gazed up at the captain.

“Well I can’t promise any good food, but the cuddling and Sora I can guarantee,” he offered, releasing you from his grasp long enough to snatch a towel from the nearby linen shelf and drape it around your goosebump-riddled shoulders.  “I grabbed one of the heat packs from Ikkaku and put it in our room.  I can see who’s on cooking duty tonight to make you a good meal.”

You grinned from ear to ear, your skin thrumming with the bountiful affection your beloved showered you in.  You carefully tucked the corner of the towel that wrapped around your body under your armpit to hold it in place, Law’s hands dropping from your shoulders to your hips, thumbs rubbing small circles into your pelvic bone through the rough fibers of the aged towel.

“Go get dressed into something comfy,” he uttered, his voice low.  “I’ll meet you back in bed, hopefully with some food that you’ll like.”

You leaned forward, trying to ignore the subdued throbbing in your abdomen that returned once out of the warm, soothing bath, and placed a kiss on the tip of Law’s pointed nose.  “Aye aye, captain.”

—

The feeling of soft cotton surrounding your skin was beyond blissful as you sprawled out on the bed you shared with Law, almost taking up the entire space with your outstretched limbs.  The heat pack from Ikkaku was laid across your belly above the sweatshirt you stole from your boyfriend, providing a comforting heat that relaxed the muscles contracting in your abdomen with every movement.  If this was how bad your cramps could get, you didn’t even want to imagine how awful childbirth could feel.  You shoved that worrying thought to the back of your mind and let the heat from the fabric pack on your body flow through your veins, leaving pleasant electric tingles on the tips of your fingers and toes.  On the nightstand beside your head was a tall glass of water, a bottle of painkillers, and the same bag of chocolates Law had brought into the bathroom with you.  Three discarded chocolate wrappers also dotted the tiny table.  When Law finally entered your room again, his hands carrying a small tray of food from the galley, you barely had the energy to pick your head up to greet him.  Instead, you lazily raised your hand in a small wave before flopping it back down on the blanket beside you.

“How’re you doing?” he asked yet again, moving aside some of the items on the bedside table to place the metal tray down.  The smell of some sort of vegetable soup filled your nose- Hakugan must have cooked tonight.

You simply grumbled, resisting the urge to turn your head.  Every movement seemed to respark the cramps deep in your belly.  “Waiting for the painkillers to kick in again.”

“Is the heat pack helping?” he asked, running his hand gently over the soft skin of your forehead.

“Mhm… kinda,” you whispered.  You slowly opened your eyes, finally meeting the golden ones that gazed back down at you.  “Did you bring soup?”

“Yeah,” he replied, removing his hand from your hairline and crawling onto the bed beside you, slipping his arm carefully over your waist to hold you close to him.  “You don’t have to eat it right now if you don’t have an appetite, but it’s there when you’re ready.”

“Thank you, baby…” you muttered, shimmying closer to his body despite the ache in your legs.  “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me today… honestly.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Law mumbled into your hair.  “I love doting on you.  I just wish I could do it more often.”  His hand idly stroked your abdomen up and down over your heat pack, applying a gentle, calming pressure over the parts of your skin that weren’t as close to your uterus and wouldn’t hurt as much to touch.  “As much as I hate seeing you suffering and in pain, I like days like this.”

“Where you can just relax?” you asked, turning your head to hide your nose in the warmth of his neck.

“Yup,” Law replied.  “Relax with you, more specifically.”

The two of you laid in a calm, peaceful silence, the thrumming of the Polar Tang’s engine reverberating through the walls and the steady cadence of your synchronized breathing lulling your muscles into a deep state of relaxation.  As the ache in your belly diminished with the onslaught of a peaceful slumber, you felt Law press one last kiss to the crown of your head as your body dozed off, ready to sleep off the rest of your aches for the day.

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Exes to Lovers Masterpost

Dialogue Prompts

"I'm sorry for how it ended." "I'm sorry that it ended at all."

"Do you still have place for me in your life?"

"Three years was not enough to get over you."

"We'll always find our ways back to each other."

"I couldn't stop loving you, even if I tried. And I did try for some time. But it didn't work."

"Seeing you again brought everything back."

"It was a mistake to just go away. We should've fought more for what we wanted." "We are doing it now."

"Being back in your arms is everything I wished for since we broke up."

"I can't believe you would actually take me back."

"Do you have any idea how much I wished to take it back? To just go to your house and apologize?" "I would have waited for you. I did wait for you. Even if it took some time, you are here now."

"I shouldn't have ever let you go away. I need you by my side."

"The fight we had was so stupid and breaking up was irrational."

"We work much better as a team."

"I don't ever want to lose you again."

"It was the right thing at the time. We weren't ready for it." "Do you think we are now?" "Yes, absolutely."

"People called me crazy for letting you get away. And they were right."

"I will never let you go again."

"We were both so hurt that we didn't see how much the other one was hurting. I hope that we're now able to look past that and be able to heal together."

"Honestly? I never stopped loving you."

"Let's never break up again. Ok?"

Text Prompts

Having broken up, but still living in the same area they keep running into each other. At the park, the grocery store, the laundromat, … everywhere.

They are still in the same friend group and they want to make it work as friends. But hanging out all the time makes it hard to get over each other.

Person A moves to another apartment and finds some of Person B’s, their exes’ stuff while moving and the former lovers meet up for the first time since the break-up to exchange the goods.

While not having adopted it together, Person A’s pet becomes miserable after Person B stops being over, so finally they have to arrange for a meeting in a park, like two divorced parents.

They are still each other's emergency contact. Which becomes apparent when one of them ends up in the hospital.

Having their car breaking down by the side of the road is bad enough. Their ex being the one to come save them is even worse.

They had already booked everything for their friends' destination wedding before they broke up. To celebrate them and not lose their deposits they decide to still share the hotel room.

Person A’s family still invites Person B to all of their family events. And Person B actually goes.

They bought tickets for their favourite band’s concert one year in advance. It’s been a few months since their break-up and they believe the emotions have calmed down a bit, so they decide to still go together when the time comes. But maybe they don’t have calmed down that much, when their song comes on.

They know each other best. Even after their break-up their ex is still the first person they want to call when something good or bad happens.

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[steddieas-shegoes]

Steve is afraid to touch Eddie.

But Eddie isn’t afraid to touch Steve. At all.

He doesn’t seem to be afraid to touch anyone actually.

His hands are like magnets, finding their polar opposites no matter who happens to be there.

Steve looks down at his own hands. Can hands be lonely? What a tragic sentiment.

He was known as the guy who slept around, the guy who gave his teammates a pat on the back when they pulled off an unexpected win, the guy who physically surrounded himself with people who thought friendly touches were slaps on the back that left bruises.

But he couldn’t think of the last time he touched someone in a casual, friendly way.

Eddie never held back. Steve wanted to be like that.

So he started giving every kid hugs when they left. They didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t help but be a little intimidated by Max’s raised brows and Mike’s lip curl the first few times he does it.

He holds Robin’s hand during movie night and she gives him a look that says she’s worried about him, but won’t say anything.

Even Argyle isn’t immune to his attempts, throwing a high five that turns into a much-too-long hand clasp that turns into awkwardly staring into each others’ eyes before Jonathan interrupts the moment with a laugh. Whatever that was may have pushed Steve’s abilities too far.

So when he thinks he can subtly lean into Eddie’s shoulder at dinner with Nancy and Robin, just to make sure he’s capable of touching him without his heart exploding, he tries.

Eddie freezes mid sentence. Robin’s eyes widen from across the table. Nancy’s eyes are squinting closed so tightly, it’s a miracle she can even still see out of them.

So Steve runs. Like, actually gets up and runs out of the room.

There’s no saving whatever that was and he’s just going to have to come to terms with never being able to look any adult in his life in the eyes again when he feels a strong hand on his shoulder. He could pull away, but he knows who the hand belongs to, and despite how miserable he’ll be during this conversation, he knows Eddie won’t just let it slide.

So he turns.

He looks at Eddie’s face.

And he realizes that he made a grave mistake.

No, not with the casual touch of shoulder to shoulder, arm to arm.

With running.

Eddie’s wide eyes were practically begging Steve to explain. So before Eddie even said a thing, Steve leaned in, wrapped his arms around Eddie’s waist, and let his head rest against his shoulder.

He let his mind wander to how Eddie’d spent the last few months brushing his hand against Steve’s when passing him in the kitchen, how he squeezed his knee in the car as a thanks for driving him to appointments when Wayne was busy, how he wrapped his arm around his shoulders when the kids were being too much and Steve had his hands on his hips ready to be the mom they all claimed he was.

How even as casual as Eddie was with touch, he’d never hugged Steve.

“Why haven’t you hugged me?”

Steve didn’t know why he asked out loud. It’s not like he was accusing Eddie of anything. Or maybe he was. Maybe he was more hurt than he thought. Maybe he thought that Eddie held back because Steve was untouchable to him in the ways that mattered.

“What?”

Eddie’s voice was quiet, damn near whispering. Steve took a second to realize his hands had very loosely found a home on his hips.

“You hug everyone else. I just wondered if I did something to make you think you couldn’t hug me.”

It’s all out there now, Harrington. He’s either gonna think you’re crazy or he’s gonna think you’re needy. Not sure what’s worse.

Suddenly, hands were tightening on his hips. Before Steve could react, Eddie’s arms were wrapping around his waist and squeezing him against his front.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?”

Steve felt Eddie shake his head, burying it further into his shoulder.

“I just didn’t think you wanted me to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“A hug from the freak isn’t exactly a gold star for the king.”

Steve wasn’t having that. Not now, not ever.

He pulled his head away, causing Eddie to do the same.

“We aren’t those people. We’re well past being what teenagers thought of us.”

“But you’re still…you.”

“Me? And who am I?”

“Steve Harrington. Completely unattainable in every way. Untouchable.”

“You’re touching me right now.”

Eddie shook his head as if to clear it.

“It’s different.”

“Why?”

“God, you’re worse than a toddler who just learned they can ask questions.”

Steve couldn’t help the smirk that appeared on his face. He waited for Eddie to continue.

“You remember what I told you in the hospital?”

Steve did. Of course he did. It was what sent him on a full spiral with Robin about his own sexuality. He hadn’t necessarily panicked, he’d just been shocked to know that the feelings he’d had about Tom Cruise were not because he was a great actor.

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Usually straight guys aren’t really into queers touching them, even if it is innocent.”

The way Eddie spoke about himself was in direct contrast to the way he acted. He was loud confidence, exuberantly himself. But when it came down to it, he was just as insecure as Steve.

“Well maybe straight guys do, but I’m not exactly straight.”

They stared at each other in silence.

“Robin! You fucking lied to me!”

Steve snorted as Eddie yelled back towards the dining room.

“When did she lie to you?”

“Last month’s movie night. You kept looking at me like you wanted to kiss me and I thought I was going insane so after I asked Robin and she insisted that I was imagining it. Insisted!”

Steve couldn’t help the little giggle he let out at that. Robin was a great friend. A terrible liar, but a great friend.

“We could do that now.”

“Do what?”

Eddie sounded exasperated. Steve kind of loved it.

“Kiss.”

“Now?”

Steve nodded.

“We just hugged for the first time and now you want to kiss?”

Steve bit his lip, nodded again.

“Jesus Christ. I’m gonna have my hands full with you aren’t I?”

“And full of me too, if you know what I mean.”

Eddie groaned as Steve leaned further in.

“You gonna kiss me or should I do it?”

“You’re the brave one today.”

So Steve decided he could be brave and touch Eddie again. He placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek, gently pulling him in so they’re lips barely brushed against each other.

Steve always loved the anticipation before a kiss, but Eddie was impatient.

When Eddie closed the final few centimeters between them, Steve felt his stomach clench and his heart stop.

It was more than he expected to happen when he leaned into Eddie. But if leaning in is all Eddie needed, Steve could keep being brave and touch him.

[randombush3]

Kinda miss Fleur and Alexia bickering 🫣 can I get a request a one short of them getting into a fight

sorry I took ages to do it - I've been trying to think of a scenario. I imagine that the dutch players have had a very miserable international window lol

[...]

I slam the door behind me. 

There are few things in life that cause me absolute devastation, but this week has been one of them. I’m tired, I’m angry, and, what’s worse, I’m resenting the fact that Alexia’s apartment is bright and happy. 

She smiles as she emerges from the bathroom, perhaps not hearing how I entered as I used my own key. 

I take it as smugness. (I want it to be smug.) 

“Hola, mi amor,” she says with caution, heading over to greet me after not seeing much of each other for the best part of a week. She must sense the tension because her smile dampens, victorious glow from winning fucking everything fading away. 

“Hey,” I mutter, tone clipped and curt and dripping with resentment. Alexia approaches, concern beginning to make her frown, reaching out gently to touch my arm. 

I jerk it away from her. 

For the briefest of moments, I feel a long-dead emotion: hatred. I loathe Spain’s success, am jealous of it, and it is not fair that it comes at my expense. Not when we are together, not when we are no longer enemies. 

It was easy to play against Alexia when I was her rival. I could tackle her freely and let my teammates foul her when she was too good to beat, able to watch on without remorse. Seeing her hit the grass brought about a vindictive, satisfied feeling, and I relished in it. 

Being her girlfriend is a lot harder, and it has been a while since I have had to play on a different team to her. It has been a while since we lost to Spain, but, just like they did in August, they have crushed our dreams once more. 

My dreams. 

The Olympics are more special to me than any other tournament, and will continue to be until the games are no longer valued in women’s football. They are my family’s history, the gateway into my relationship with my mum, and they are now out of my reach. 

I huff out a breath, struggling to contain my emotions. “We lost twice so we won’t be going.” I tell her what she already knows but she does not rub it in. “Jaimie is going to qualify.”

Alexia looks at me, piercing eyes seeing through the floodgates I have shut. She must realise that I have cried on the plane – maybe even that I hadn’t stopped crying since we played Germany, only reining it all in as I made my way up the stairs to her place.

“What do you want, Alexia?” I snap as she attempts to touch me again, blinking myself back into reality and hoping I don’t start to cry. 

Clearly, my wounds have not been nursed enough. 

Alexia recoils, hurt flashing across her features before she schools them into something harder. Her jaw clenches. Maybe she thinks I am being immature. “What’s wrong with you, Fleur?” she asks, her voice tinged with frustration. “I know you're upset….”

“Oh, like you care,” I retort, bristling at her words. “You seemed happy to run around with Jenni, celebrating your socks off!” 

Her eyes narrow, patience wearing thin. “Excuse me?” She doesn’t sound convinced that I am the real Fleur de Voss, looking me up and down to check I haven’t been replaced with someone else. 

“You clearly have let it get to you. Have you forgotten what it’s like to lose?” 

“Oh, of course,” she scoffs, “because that has never happened to me before. I was inconsolable after we lost the Champions League final; I didn’t come out of my room for–”

“Please, spare me the sob story.” I roll my eyes. “You’re on top of the world right now, Ale. Spain wins everything and you keep adding to your list of victories, crushing anyone who dares to get in your way. And the worst part is, you don’t even play! You don’t even play, and you act like you have done it single-handedly, with the biggest grin on your face–” 

“Do you think I enjoy seeing you in pain?” She trembles with anger. She shouts, and she hasn’t meant to be the first to do that because she instantly steps back in regret. I may have flinched at the shock of her volume, but now I square my shoulders, daring her to fix my heartbreak. “Do you think it didn’t take all my willpower to not go over to you, to not comfort you, or hug you, or try to make you feel better? Do you think I wasn’t trying to get to you as soon as I could? Or that, in Sevilla, I didn’t look at flights to Germany so that you wouldn’t have to spend the night alone?” She steps towards me. “I know how much going to Paris meant to you, to your family. Believe me, I heard what your mother said to you – even if my English isn’t that good.” 

“Your English is fine,” I mutter, instinctively destroying her stupid insecurity. 

“Fleur, how could you think I take pleasure in your losses? You know me better than that.” 

I shake my head, unable to quell the storm of emotions raging inside of me. “I feel like I don’t know anything right now,” I admit, hardly audible. 

I was going to the Olympics. I was sure of it. 

Jaimie and I were going together, and, although Mum competed for a different flag, we were going to follow in her footsteps; continuing her legacy because she promised me I would be good enough to do that. She promised us both, time and time again. 

She may have left us, but she was the one who wrangled me a spot in the Australian youth teams. She started my international career for me, and I was going to repay her by showing her it was worth it. 

What is it worth now?

“All I know is that I’m tired of feeling like my best isn’t good enough, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending everything’s okay.” 

Suddenly, this is about more than just losing the Nations League and not qualifying for the Olympics. This is the fallout of the Ballon d’Or, and we both know it. Alexia seems to have seen this coming. 

“I’m sorry for not being there when you needed me,” she begins, though guilt courses through me because I know it would have been asking the impossible of her, “but I’m here now.”

[it-was-too-cold-always]

Always Read the Fine Print Chapter 12

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11

Who actually reads all the terms and conditions? After mindlessly checking a box years ago, our Reader unintentionally agrees to be part of a scientific study to create super soldier babies. To make matters worse, her fellow test subject is the brooding and intimidating Bucky Barnes.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Reader struggles to accept this colder relationship with Bucky. Meanwhile's he's up to something...

Warnings: arranged marriage, forced proximity, lots of angst, violence, PTSD/nightmares, panic attacks, language, SMUT 18+ only, oral fem receiving, unprotected sex, size kink, let me know if I'm missing anything

a/n: Hi friends, I'm sorry it's been so long. My depression came at me like a b*tch. But I'm here now and will hopefully be posting more regularly 💕

Every night, Bucky would hand you that stupid syringe. Your heart sunk a little each time he’d knock on the door. You were hoping he was coming to spend time with you, to tell you everything was going to be okay, to hold you. But instead, he would put the syringe in your hand, kiss your forehead, and leave the room. That was it. 

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he was spending all his time with Steve - almost every day. You could hear them talking downstairs. You could never actually make out what they were saying, but you could hear their serious tones murmuring through the thin walls. You considered standing at the top of the stairs so you could eavesdrop, but you knew better than to spy on two super soldiers. So instead you paced around the bedroom–the one that you were supposed to be sharing with Bucky–and waited for Steve to leave. Although no one outright said it, you got the feeling that you weren’t invited to their little chats. One time, you went downstairs with the excuse of needing a snack. They immediately shifted the topic to Steve’s recent mission. Steve, ever the gentleman, would greet you with a warm smile and invite you to sit with them. He’d ask you how you’re feeling, how your day was going, if you’ve read any good books lately. You appreciated his kindness but felt a little awkward – surely they were itching for you to leave so they could return to their conversation. Once the small talk became unbearable, you’d fake a headache and excuse yourself. You claimed you were going to go lie down, but they could hear your faint footsteps pacing on the hardwood above them.

~

Bucky was completely and utterly miserable. He was still fuming about the sensors they implanted in you. You were his wife, and he couldn’t protect you. It made him feel powerless. He couldn’t stop thinking about how panicked you were the last time you had sex. He could feel your anxiety. He couldn’t help but think he violated you in some way. This prevented him from giving you any affection; he was terrified of crossing a boundary with you. The forehead kisses were as far as he dared to go. Deep down, he knew he should sit down and have a conversation with you about it. But if he heard you say outright that you don’t want to be intimate with him anymore, he would be devastated. 

~

After three weeks of doing this ridiculous syringe routine, you couldn’t take it anymore. He handed you the syringe, kissed your forehead, and turned to leave. Just like every other night. But this time, you reached out to grab his hand.

“Please don’t go,” you whispered, tears already welling up in your eyes. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so desperate for his attention. 

“Oh, doll…” Bucky wasn’t sure what to say. His heart was breaking, seeing you like this. 

“Please, just stay the night. We don’t even have to talk. Just spend the night with me,” you begged, tears freely falling down your cheeks. “I miss you.” Your confession was all it took for Bucky to realize what an idiot he was. He was so desperate to protect you, he didn’t even occur to him that he might be hurting you. 

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m right here. I’m sorry I left you alone so much,” Bucky admitted, pulling you into a tight hug. “I was so scared I’d upset you, but I seriously screwed up.” He rubbed your back as you let all your tears fall. All those weeks of feeling so alone, but you finally had your Bucky back. You wanted to smack him and kiss him at the same time. 

He helped you with the syringe, which was oddly romantic. He was very gentle. Once that was over with, he pulled you into his chest, running his hands through your hair and down your back. You let out a long sigh – you had missed this so much. You forgot how your head felt resting on his toned muscles, how warm his chest was, how safe you felt. It was like a dream. A wonderful, euphoric dream.

“Do you trust me?” Bucky asked softly. The question caught you so off guard, your finger paused before it could finish tracing the scars on his chest. Propping yourself up, you looked at him quizzically. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that?” you replied. You were trying not to be offended that he would doubt you. 

“All I’ve wanted to do is protect you,” he began, sitting up to fully face you. He took your hands in his, mindlessly fidgeting with the diamond ring on your left hand. “But I’ve failed every time.”

“Bucky–“ you tried to cut him off, but he continued.

“No matter how hard I try, you end up getting hurt. I hope you can forgive me. Some days I can barely live with myself, knowing how much pain I’ve caused you.”

“Bucky, for Christ’s sake. This is NOT your fault!” you interjected, hating to see him beat himself up like this. 

“Doll, please just let me explain. It’s important,” he said, giving your hands a small squeeze. You nodded slowly and stayed silent, letting him continue. The urgency in his voice was scaring you. “You deserve better than to stay here and pay for my sins. I can’t stand to watch you suffer like this. Okay? I need you to understand.” His pleading eyes looked deep into yours. The more he talked, the more fearful you became. “I’ve told you some of the atrocities I’ve committed as HYDRA’s assassin. The things I’ve done to further their agenda, to get them in power,” he sighed deeply before continuing. “With the number of times they scrambled my brain, they assumed I couldn’t remember anything. That I wouldn’t recognize faces. But I do. I remember all of them.”

Your heart was breaking for the man in front of you. All those people he killed and all the ones that made him do it. They all take up space in his mind. No wonder he never sleeps. 

“The HYDRA members they arrested when I was freed…that was only a small fraction of them. HYRDRA is everywhere. If I break you out, there’s nowhere we could go that would be safe. I can’t rescue you until I dismantle HYDRA.” He paused and waited for your reaction. He wasn’t sure how you’d respond to all this. 

“Wait a second…are you saying HYDRA is behind all this? I mean that would make sense, this whole reproducing super soldiers thing is messed up, and they’re not exactly known for being ethical. But HYDRA working inside SHIELD? All this time? That’s…” You wanted to say impossible, but ever since your world got turned upside down, you don’t know what to expect anymore. You’ve completely lost sense of what’s normal. “So what do we do? If it’s as big as you say, there’s no way you can take them down alone.”

Bucky let out a deep sigh, looking around the room as if the words he’s trying to find will reveal themselves in the wallpaper. His gaze meets yours, but he won’t find the answer in your eyes either. He held your hands in his and took a deep breath.

“Steve and I have a plan. But we’re gonna need your help.”

Taglist 💛

@kandis-mom @learisa @pono-pura-vida @smile1318 @stinkerbelle007 @glitterydeputyshepherdwagon @wonderland2425 @lowkeysebby @cookiie-c @mrsevans90 @touchit-pcy @vicmc624 @mrsbarnes32557038 @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @wonderland2425 @tsofo26 @missing-loki @aesthetic0cherryblossom @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 @ladyvenera @buggy14 @emmsybucky @crist1216 @jessicaloons @vrittivsanghavi @avenirectioner @nancymcl @kenzs-world @reguluscrystals @cjand10 @coldheartedmar @browneyedgirl22  @globetrotter28 @abbyyourlocalmilf @danadinosaur3 @raven-red10 @angrykitsune01 @thebuckybarnesvault @castlesandarrows @literaryavenger @wintrsoldrluvr @fleureeee

[frudoo]

I’m an autistic little gremlin- so hear me out, one of the 141 boys (or all of them idc- up to you) with a kid that they rescued on a mission and this poor little child is Autistic and hypersensitive to noise and they’ve gotta rework how they do things for now, you know, the boys are used to gunfire, loud comms, yelling at each other (all in good fun) but they don’t wanna scare the poor kid. (I just wanna heal my childhood with these men lmao-)

This was so sweet! I chose Simon, I hope that's alright!

Warnings: None!

“It’s alrigh’, little one, you’re gonna be jus’ fine,” Simon coos to the shivering child he’s holding to his chest. 

     If there’s one thing Simon hates the most on these missions, it’s finding innocent children terrified and all alone, trapped in the rubble of what used to be their homes. It reminds him of his own childhood, hiding away in closets with his little brother while his father wreaked havoc in the living room, on his mother. He would go through hell and back—he has, matter of fact—to make sure that no other kid would have to suffer the way he did, or worse. 

     Unfortunately, sick fucks still come in large quantities, intent on playing God and destroying perfectly peaceful homes with their agendas, leaving the innocents stuck in the middle of it. It destroys Simon, makes his heart grow ten times its normal size in an attempt to shelter every soul he finds to be like his own. Now, here, on the drive back to base, he holds the child in his lap, pressing their head against his chest and covering their exposed ear with one large hand. 

     In the short hour he’s been caring for this kid, Simon’s noticed how loud noises affect them—scratching at their ears or trying to bang their head against a solid surface—so he’s trying his best to keep the sound levels down. No obscene bantering with his teammates, only speaking into his comms when absolutely necessary. Even Soap is on his best behavior, keeping a trained eye on the child to make sure everything is alright. 

     “Alrigh’, kiddo, we’re on base now. S’gonna be a little loud, yeah? Jus’ keep your ‘ead on m’chest, and keep your ears covered f’me.” 

     Simon doesn’t dare make a move until the child nods in agreement. Only once he’s gotten confirmation does he stand, hopping off the Humvee and booking it towards the building. The cool air is calming, grounding, and immediately the kid relaxes in Simon’s hold, squirming to get down. The big man grins beneath his mask as he watches the child smile for the first time, only the quiet chatter and footsteps of soldiers to be heard inside. 

     The mission is far from over, but the team has a few days of reprieve before they’re back on the field. Simon takes the opportunity to learn more about the child, ignoring his superiors’ requests to get them out of here and find some foster care system to put them in—he knows how miserable it is there. The last thing he wants to do is shove this poor kid right back into another traumatic experience. No, instead, he finds some extra clothes to give them (even if they are way too big) and takes care of them the best he can—even gives them a pair of headphones to keep on when the world gets too overwhelming.

     Ultimately, Simon realizes that he’s become attached to this child, and when the mission is finally complete and they’re all free to go on leave, he takes the kid home with him. A couple of weeks later, he’s certain that this is the life he wants, to fill in as a guardian for this sweet, sweet child, to something to live for. He ends up retiring and adopting the lovely kiddo. 

     He found peace in the quiet, the simple life, and maybe finding this new happiness in the rubble wasn’t such a bad thing.

[triple-starsss]

HIIII could you perhaps elaborate on T☆S's mental states when they're at the height of their fame 👀

Like. I can't imagine they were having much fun, with a huge overbearing fandom watching their every move, the near-constant interviews and shows and fan interactions, hardly being able to step outdoors without getting recognized, and all with Eggman's pressure to do more and more without a single break,,,,, and i am curious of the ways each of them cope (or don't cope–) and how it affects their relationship and dynamic

also the Silver Fainting Incident!! what was that about!!!!

just. y'know. Angst machine go brrrr :3

keyword. BAD. THEIR MENTAL HEALTH IS VERY BAD.

like you said, it's not fun for them ABSKHS. none of them take all the attention and constant performances well.

Sonic manages to somewhat keep up a positive front, he wants to try and atleast appear to have his shit together but he is. exhausted. He hasnt seen his brother in weeks, barely even has the time to talk to him (thats if he even has the energy to). If they ever get the chance to take a break for a day trust!! he will be sleeping the entire time!!!

Silver is in near constant pain from how much he's pushing himself to sing. his throat is not doing well in the slightest and its making him MISERABLE. Its painful to do just about anything with how raw his throat feels. he tries to busy himself with other hobbies to get his mind off of everything.

Shadow is literally moments away from shutting down during most performances/interviews. the crowds and attention have become beyond overwhelming and his anxiety is skyrocketing all the damn time. He tends to coop himself up in his room if they get the chance to be home, only leaving if he REALLY has to. He will ignore his needs until they get difficult to brush off.

They know that they should leave eachother alone during these times, each of them need a break and annoying eachother would just make things worse but they still manage to bicker with one another. it strains their relationship a little, makes the once lively apartment feel quite dead and empty.

and yeah!! eventually it all bubbles up and causes Silver to faint live. the exhaustion and stress causing his body to just. shut down.

they've overworked themselves and finally!!! it caught up.

[soapoet]

what do you need to heal?

oof, you all deserve a hug.

01.

Shufflemancy: SENSITIVE by MOTHICA

your feelings are really potent. you feel like a pressure cooker, constantly ready to burst open. emotions are both your playground and your graveyard, it seems. you feel everything strongly, but there is almost a sense of it never being enough. you yearn for something more, something bigger and better to latch on to. you've probably been accused of being toxic once or twice, and there may be a trail of broken lines of communication behind you as a result. but you have no ill intent. you have so much to give, and all you want is equal returns for your investments. interpersonal relationships especially feel lackluster to you.

here's a storyline that might resonate: you meet someone, platonic or romantic, and sparks fly. you're so invested, they take interest in you, you're each other's favourite person, two peas in a pod, partners in crime, a dynamic duo. every day you pour your heart and soul into this connection, drop the drawbridge and invite them inside your walls to experience you and your world fully. and with every day that goes by, slowly but surely, the honeymoon phase begins to fade. their efforts lessen, even when they say you're their whole world they never seem to find the time, they stop sharing, and feel intruded upon when you inquire and poke around to see what's up. you step back, thinking yeah, alright, i just need to chill, give them space. but that just makes things worse, doesn't it? you end up feeling abandoned and the grief for what the connection once was is agonising. every time you try to rekindle the flames they lash out. you're overwhelming, nosy, obsessive, they feel cornered. oh my god, you're so toxic! and then you fight. you fight for your feelings and the relationship. they just seem to fight you. you tell them they knew what they were getting themselves into. you showed them everything. shared the deepest, darkest corners of your castle. didn't they say that it's okay, that you're perfect as you are, flaws and all, and that they'd never leave? and then they still do.

you're not a monster. you're not trying to lure people in and make their lives miserable. you simply seek companionship. the kind that seems impossible to find these days. you understand that everyone has a life of their own, things to do, and that it's okay to need time and space. what you do have a problem with is the lack of trust. when you drop your armour you need reassurance that it's not in vain and that you are safe. that your vulnerability won't be taken advantage of. you don't want to worry about whether or not you let wolves inside your castle walls. what you need to do is learn a healthy dose of discrimination. really vet the people you let in. take things slowly, and allow things to happen without having to force it. let people come to you. wield your emotions in a constructive way. if you feel like a fraud trying to fit into the whole love and light spiel, then don't force it! you're incredibly powerful. learn the art of transmutation and try to make your emotions work for you instead of against you. it may be easier said than done, but if anyone can do it, it's you.

02.

Shufflemancy: Bridges by ALIKA

stop fooling yourself. you're really making yourself jump through way too many hoops. things don't have to be an obstacle course. there isn't some long, ever-changing list of things that need to happen before what you want can happen. it's like you're running around in a hamster wheel. chasing after what ifs, looking for signs and clues, and when something doesn't align then oops, there you go, right back to the drawing board. reconfiguring things, going back and forth, fine-tuning, undoing, scrapping everything and starting all over. reading your energy feels like i'm walking into a room with crumpled papers all over the floors. and when i look at them, your plans and ideas are so good! why have you cursed yourself into this space of false starts and stagnation?

because your head is full of doubt. your mind is like the static of an old tv screen. there is so much noise, buzzing around and it's so loud you're unable to think straight. there are so many distractions. you're being pulled in so many directions. everywhere except forward. you are so focused on that first step being absolutely flawless that you'll do anything but actually take the damn step. every time you gather yourself and tell yourself alright, it's go-time my dudes, you just stand there, or notice something that you just gotta fix real quick. and before you know it, you're doing all kinds of busy work. anything to make you feel better about not doing what you want to do and feel like you're at least making some contribution toward your dreams.

you heard there would be signs that you're on the right path or that your manifestations are working, and you took that personally. you see a sign, then look for confirmation that the sign really was a sign. then you tell yourself you need to stop actively looking for signs because then you won't recognise the real signs. but uh-oh, what if you were already doing that? does that mean that the sign you noticed was a false flag and you're just delusional and just out there fooling yourself? please give me a sign that— stop. sit down. cut the noise out and just breathe. you really need to start trusting yourself. you have a vision. a path forward. you got shit to do, things to achieve. stop checking the time, the mirror, the skies... just check yourself. still want what you want? great, you got it. have some faith in yourself. refocus your energy and try to stay present. it's okay to get distracted and it's normal to doubt, just don't let the doubts and distractions rule your present moment. the light has been green this whole time, so just go.

03.

Shufflemancy: Trauma by NF

no. that's two letters, but it feels wrong in your mouth, doesn't it? like it's too big or like it'll break something. when we're drowning there is a period known as 'voluntary apnea'. our instinct to not inhale water is stronger than our need to release the buildup of carbon dioxide that occurs when we hold our breath for too long. the brain can cause us to endure the increasing terror and physical pain because of this survival instinct. and it feels like your ability to say no is behind this kind of mental block too. when you do say no to things it almost feels apologetic, and is riddled with apologies and reassurance. you don't want to do this or that, but it's just today, maybe some other time, you'll check your calendar, assure them it's not like you don't care, you're just busy, you gotta go. you'll find any excuse that sounds reasonable when you don't have one. and for what? you don't need to explain yourself. no is a full sentence.

it really feels like you're on the outside looking in. you have a fear of not just missing out, but being left behind. it's like you've convinced yourself that in order to be worthy and good you need to please everybody. maybe in your past you've been betrayed, experienced neglect or really, truly, felt all alone and without support and guidance. so when you're around people you're on your best behaviour. you listen and you are eager to learn. you adopt people's hobbies or otherwise make an effort to be there for them. people come to you for advice, you're a shoulder to cry on, a problem solver, a good time. but when you get overwhelmed, your nerves get the best of you and you need someone to lean on, you feel like you shouldn't burden people. they have better things to do. maybe they wouldn't be able to help anyway, so why bother?

in many ways you feel like a ghost. not quite sure where the influences of other people and life circumstances end and where you begin. your boundaries are so blurry it's no wonder you've accepted so many concepts of yourself that it feels like the hand of cards you were dealt are masks instead of tools. you may need some time in isolation and solitude for a while. not to say farewell to the world and become lonely, but learn to really be with yourself and figure out who you really are and who you want to be. put yourself on the operating table and start carefully removing things that don't serve your well-being. you are whole all within yourself, and i promise that it's all complete and good and worthy of so much love. you don't need to be patchwork quilt made of concepts forced upon you by the world. you're allowed to be yourself and grow in exactly the direction and at the speed that you want. there's room here under the sun for you too.

[agustdiv1ne]

✧˖°.10:52 p.m. — choi soobin

genre: fluff, college au, a couple of introverts at a party LOL

wc: 1.2k

soobin isn't particularly fond of parties.

it's something that he’s made abundantly clear — raucous music results in a miserable headache; cramped, sweaty crowds cause his heart to pound and his stomach to twist in the worst way. soobin despises parties, really. his housemate, yeonjun, is more than well aware after soobin yelled at him the first time he threw one of the impromptu variety. the question is: does yeonjun care?

another bass-boosted edm song rattles the entire house. soobin gets his answer.

he drags a pillow over his face with an exasperated groan. there seems to be no sign of this particular party ending any time soon, much to his own displeasure. he purses his lips, sits up, and grabs his phone from the nightstand next to his bed. it looks like he won’t be getting much sleep tonight.

the rest of his room remains relatively dark while he cycles through the myriad of apps on his phone, yet none of them keep his attention for very long. he’s engrossed in a youtube video about some dog when his door swings open with a flourish of light and a wall of sound before promptly slamming shut. heart racing, he watches a complete stranger slide down his bedroom door with their face buried in their hands.

unsure of what to do, he sits frozen on his bed, staring down at your curled up form. he hears an almost inaudible sniffle come from you, a shock of concern shooting down his spine. though his mouth falls agape, he pauses before words can escape.

his eyes widen and his stomach flips when he realizes it's you — not a stranger, but, in soobin's eyes, something much worse: his pathetically long-term, same-major-as-him crush. what's worse: you barely know him, only ever having brief conversations in class if absolutely forced to. you've had more than a few classes together, sitting near each other but never too close. he finds it difficult to strike up conversation with you when you seem just as reserved as him.

despite it all, vines began to curl around his heart, squeezing every time he would see you, or speak a few words to you, even if those words simply pertained to an assignment. even now, those feelings don't seem to want to recede. though quiet, he's found you to be kind, bright, your smile lighting up his heart in a way that he's never felt before. again, he thinks of himself as pitiful, knowing that there is a slim to none chance of you ever getting together due to his own insecurities.

another one of your sniffles, louder now, shakes him from his thoughts. he gulps, steeling himself, and says, “are you okay?”

you flinch, and panic singes his nerves. he doesn’t even realize that you’ve stood up, spouting apologies as your hand shoots for the doorknob. “i didn’t realize i wasn’t alone, i’m s—”

“w-wait!” he interrupts. your movements halt as you stare at him for a second, regarding him with an odd expression painted on your face. a beat of silence passes, two, as you stare at each other. he notices the sheen of tears that line your waterline despite the dimness of the room. it makes you look prettier, somehow — like dewdrops clinging onto spiderwebs.

“really, are you okay?” he tries again, praying that you don’t try to bolt this time. he’s nearly ready to jump out of his own skin when you choke a sob down.

“i…” you trail off for a moment, wringing your fingers. you look around his room, avoiding eye contact now, blinking away the tears. “yeah, um, i guess. just a little overwhelmed right now.”

your face twists in confusion for a moment before you speak again. “you’re…you’re soobin, right?”

jumping at the sound of his name passing your lips, he scrambles to respond as nonchalantly as possible. “yeah! yeah, that’s me. um, we have a class together, right?” 

“a few classes, actually,” you answer a little too quickly, gaze finding the floor. the smile you wear doesn’t quite reach your eyes. you offer him your name, but he replies that he already knows. “well, um, it’s nice to formally meet you, despite the circumstances.”

“same here,” he says, ignoring the frenzied beating of his heart. he never thought this would ever happen — you, standing in his room and actually talking to him. he sees you shuffling back towards the door, and his lips purse for a second. should he?

(you look about ready to say goodbye, but he's not sure when he'll ever be able to talk to you again.

he should.)

“um, if you’d like to chill in here for a bit, feel free. i mean! you don’t have to, but um—”

your giggle has the words fading from his tongue in an instant. "thanks, but i wouldn't wanna intrude."

“you wouldn’t!” he exclaims, cringing at his voice’s volume. “you wouldn’t. you don’t really seem like the rager type.”

“i’m not,” you agree, moving closer to him. he moves to switch a light on, and when he looks back, you stand at the foot of his bed, front teeth worrying your bottom lip. “you mind if i, um, sit on your bed?”

“not at all,” he says, but he does, he so does. he thinks that he might just pass out at this rate, but as you begin talking — everything from classes and favorite colors to what you dream about for your futures, you moving closer until your sitting knee-to-knee — he somehow begins to relax.

you lean closer in a moment of boldness, asking if he'd like to hang out sometime, just the two of you. he finds himself admiring your lips, the urge to kiss you unable to win over his logical mind. he wants to take things slow with you, find out all of your little quirks, your likes and dislikes, the way you like your coffee, if you even like coffee. he wants to believe that maybe, just maybe, you like him back when you grin at his acceptance.

the mirage of peace is broken by a ding! from your phone, your friend telling you that she's ready to go and where the hell are you? you literally disappeared. you sigh, apologizing, as you rise from his comforter. he stands up to walk you out, and you turn around as you exit his room, him leaning against the doorframe.

“if you ever come to another of yeonjun’s parties, you know where to find me,” soobin jokes, causing you to smile. you tell him you would, and that you’re looking forward to your classes together on monday. you leave with a gentle squeeze of your hand entangled in his and a demure smile, and he watches you disappear down the stairs before his door clicks shut.

collapsing back onto his bed, soobin decides that he may dislike parties, but he thinks that he may be able to bear them if you're there, too.

masterlist

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[lizaluvsthis]

Smg4: smg4 doesn't meme for 1 second

Mostly Gay Boys talk / and well lil bit of crew talk

SPOILER ALERT!

The crew convinced three to take four in for a therapy session. Tho that didnt solve his problems on complete brain rot with all of the memes.

Three did try his best to make him stay a bit focused on the topic they were meant to discuss with four's own meme problems.

And that didn't work-

- after smg4 was sent to meme rehab -

Everyone in the crew were sitting in the gaming room watching some tv, they were seen bored as ever without smg4.

Even just a small glimpse with each memeber entirely they've missed smg4 as well. He was their friend, their leader.

Shroomy came in with the mention of "among us" everyone- as in EVERYONE looked at where smg4 is supposed to be sitting at- reminded them the times when he would laugh at couple of meme jokes.

It is pretty much saddened by the crew how worse it could be in a day without smg4 is by at their side could make them feel miserable.

Then Meggy mentioned about missing smg4...

You know who responded to that?

Three himself...

"Yeah...like, if... er... smg4's stupid humor... like actually... made our lives more exciting...and we didn't like... realize it or something?"

"We're going over to that facility... to get SMG4 back!"

Smg3 was the one who knocked the door, he wanted him to come back. Even the crew also needs smg4 back because he wasn't just any other leader. He was already part of them as well.

They could all tell so, even for smg3 too.

Smg3's character development has taken him way more better to where he'd come far off being the evil villain he used to be before then coming to how much important he chose his own path.

"Hi, how are you" gave them the shock on their faces. Like they felt it was already too late to take back the treatment he was given while he was away.

"Woah smg4! Look at the phone! Wow, sk---di! Yeah you like this! Wooh! Sk---di t--l-t! Hehe. Stinky, woaaaaahh!" ★(I had to censor this because I hate reading nor hearing [REDACTED])

Smg3 attempted to try and brighten out his mood. Gave it a chance who mightve thought would work, giving him those meme moments that definitely would make him laugh.

But three didnt even know he wasnt even sure- if he even liked sk---di t--l-t.

Last time we know is that four almost lost his sh-t during that one cintent farm episode, he cringed to the part of mentioning this kind of brain rot.

But now that his mind is not any other that he'd act at all, smg4 became the normal. The person he wasnt supposed to be. Who SHOULDNT be.

"What is... a meme..."

Everyone didnt want to lose smg4's senses, they didnt want his own person to disappear SO. they went inside the lab to get back his uhh... meme... thing-

Then- yeah he did-

Some of their eyes were relaxed but still worrying for him, while tari and smg3's eyes were a bit widened in shock. (Three was more widened than tari btw)

This indicates that three may have grew tons of roots being there for smg4 as well. That their friendship they both have planted is far beyond than just "sticking" to the sides.

Now that Four is back in his senses, everyone joined in including smg3 to do the... t pose? Whatever it's called.

Three was so happy- to finally get him back- speaking of having the role as a tritagonist, he really mustve took way more care and tells how important he already is to him. Even as a friend.

Honestly the hosts here who've completely have done much was Meggy and Three. Well- mostly three since he'd been convincing the crew to not give up or regret the choices made.

He LITERALLY told them that they need to get him BACK.

And everyone did understood.

So- tell me- PLEASE THEY BOTH HAVE TO BE CANON ALREADY THERE IS JUST NO WAY YOU'RE MISSING A 'HOMIE' FOR THAT-

Mark my words they have to be- (if they dont become canon in wotfi 2024 i will cry and die)

There is literally no way you guys look at each other like that. Stare for atleast SIX MORE SECONDS. (/referring to Puzzlevision movie when FOUR HAD BEEN STARING AT THREE)

and then caring for one another so emotionally like- mate- THATS FRUITY ALREADY- ENOUGH- WITH THE "FRIENDS" WHERE IS THE "BOY" AND "FRIEND"??????

I cant- I cannot- thats how badly they both need each other and slow burn is just- literally... uuuuuurugghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

They both mightve had the longest slowburn i have EVER seen in the sun and moon shipping history/silly

This mostly takes alot of time (judging by like lumity or catradora)

But i wouldnt mind with this also- its- well- kind of almost there but not yet...?

[helaelaemond]

For your Kinktober, may I please request Billy fucking his ex-girlfriend? They see each other again somewhere (maybe a party with mutual friends). Clothed sex, some dry humping if possible, Billy being possessive. You can make this dark if you want. Thank you, ily ♡

HELAELAEMOND'S KINKTOBER

Pairing:  Billy Washington x ex girlfriend!reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: it's the first time you've seen Billy since you've been back in the UK. It's an old friend's engagement party, and the love of your life - the one you lost - is there.

Part of It's All For You Billy!verse - reader and Billy were childhood friends, and on the cusp of adulthood, they took their friendship to a deep and meaningful love. However, as the years went by, reader tried harder and harder to build a better life despite life pushing back, whilst Billy let it overwhelm him. Despite their good relationship, reader wanted more from life than what he could offer, and she took a job overseas that he couldn't follow her to. In the years apart, he found Becky, and things got worse. Much worse. Cransted happened two years ago now, and reader is back in London, ready to continue her better life.

Dry humping, breast worship/nipple play, praise, penetrative sex

Content warning(s): infidelity, rough sex, choking, spitting, dubcon elements, angst

KINK CATEGORIES: Infidelity, clothed sex, possessiveness

Rating: E

Masterlist

"Hey, here she is!"

You laugh in delight as the front door is opened by your old friend Tommy, and he throws his arms around you. "Alright, mate?"

"God, you're a sight for sore eyes! Come on in! Party's started!"

You remember this house. It's where your afterprom happened, ten years ago now. In the front room is where Billy kissed you for the first time. Tommy used to live here with his parents, but they sold it to him a few years ago for a steal, and so it's here that his engagement party is happening. How so much can change. How so much stays the same.

His girlfriend - no, fiancée - is one of your old friends, too, and Sofia greets you. She remarks on how much the Balearics have agreed with you and you laugh at the praise. You hand her the bottle of prosecco you've come armed with and she thanks you cheerful. Together, you go to the kitchen and begin pouring it into plastic flutes. She tasks you with passing them round the guests, many of whom you know from back in the day, and you do it happily.

It's been years since you've seen most of them, but here in this house, in this time of joy, it feels like no time has passed at all. All the faces blur into one after a while. It's nice, but it's also a little overwhelming. Thankfully, most people are gathered in the kitchen and garden, and you slip into the front room for a moment of solitude. Without looking, you close the door and press your forehead against it to take in a deep breath.

"Oh. Um. Hi."

You freeze.

It's him.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Swallowing, you turn around and plaster a stiff smile on your face. "Billy! Hi!"

There's a can of Stella in his hands and he's doing his best to appear relaxed on the sofa, but the way that he taps the top of it gives him away. "How's it going?"

You could die right there, you really could. After everything, he's asking... how it's going? "It's good, it's good!" The sweetness in your voice is sticky. "Just got back, so it's kind of crazy, moving into a new place, you know, but it's exciting!"

"Hmm." He lifts his eyebrows as he nods slightly. "Yeah, heard you were back. Mum told me you stopped by hers looking for me."

You grit your teeth. Hopefully, your smile doesn't turn to a grimace. "I didn't know where else to look. And as you blocked me on everything, there wasn't much else I could do."

"You didn't have to look for me."

"I can go, if my presence is really bothering you." This is not the Billy that you missed - bitter, miserable. This is the one you tried to stop him from becoming. Maybe the old Billy is in there somewhere, but...

"Wait!" Your hand is on the doorknob when he stands up suddenly. "No, don't. I'm sorry. I just... it's a bit much."

"I didn't know you were in here, I swear," you reply softly. "I just needed a moment to myself."

He nods in understanding. "Sit with me. I won't be a dick, I promise."

"Don't make a promise you can't keep." But your words are kinder now, the grimace gone. You sit down on the sofa together, and he offers you his can. You take a grateful sip from it. It's bitter. You haven't had a Stella since you left him. God, the taste makes a whole world rush back. The tears in your eyes are sudden and stinging; you blink them away as best you can.

"I regretted it for a long time, you know?"

"What did you regret, Billy?"

His head is against the back of the sofa and his eyes are closed. The slope of his throat is smooth, the line of his Adam's apple so familiar. Memories of kissing him there flood your mind, making it hard to concentrate. His hair is the same as it always was, dusky blond and soft, flopping over his forehead. How sweet he used to sound when you pulled it.

"Not trying harder for you."

"Oh, Billy-"

"I shouldn't have let you go."

"It's all in the past now."

Licking his lips, he looks over at you. "Is it?"

You nod sadly. "Too much has happened."

"Like what?" And then, he takes the beer from your hand and puts it on the floor, and his knuckles brush your thigh. "Looking at you now feels like before."

You stand up as anger rises in you, sadness, too. "It's a memory you want, not a future."

"No, it's not."

"I know you, Billy. You want something that's easy, and memories are easier than reality."

"Don't be like that."

You face him, standing in front of him, and any softness has left you now. "I know about Becky, Billy. I know about it all."

He looks down. He's not wearing a ring. "I don't wanna talk about that."

The thin grasp on your emotions breaks. "I waited for you! When I left you, I told you that one day, I'd come back, and until then, I'd wait for you! That I'd build a life for myself that you can be a part of if you waited for me, too! And you didn't wait!"

"I wanted to. But-"

"But what?"

"How could I have believed someone better wouldn't come along?"

You blink and straighten up. "You wanted someone better?"

"No!" he says in alarm. "No, I mean someone better for you! God, I mean, look at you! You're... you're everything, and I'm just... just-"

"You were everything to me, Billy. And I waited, I fucking waited. There's been no one since you, not even a date. And yet I come back home after building the life I promised you, to find that you're married and with a kid!"

His eyes are getting red. He licks his lips and nods almost nervously. "Yeah, I'm married. To a woman I don't love, with a kid that's gonna grow up to hate me."

"Is that supposed to make me pity you?"

"I don't need anyone's pity, least of all yours."

With his words ringing in your ears, you turn on your heel and storm out of the room, slamming the door behind you. He kissed you for the first time in that room. It's not the first time he's broken your heart, though.

Sofia catches you on her way to the loo, and sees the anger in your face. She drags you upstairs into her bedroom, and you tell her about Billy. She comforts you, reassuring you that yes, this is her engagement party, but you're her friend, and she doesn't mind that you need her now.

When Billy appears in the doorway, she stands in front of you protectively. Assuring her it's alright, she reluctantly leaves you to it.

"But if you make her cry," she warns on her way out, "I will castrate you, William."

The use of his proper name makes you smile faintly. But then his gaze is on you and you're alone again, and he locks the door and it makes you shiver.

He locks the door.

He locks the door.

"What more is there possibly to say?" you ask defensively.

"I need you to understand."

"Understand what?"

This time, it's you that's sitting and him who's looming over you. He's so fucking tall, it could kill you. He used to be so heavy atop you, and you used to wonder if he would crush you. What a way to go, you used to think.

"What happened with Becky."

"Why do you want me to understand?"

He looks at you darkly. "You know."

And you do. It sends a thrill through you. "Then talk."

"The day you left, it's like... it's like something died. I knew you'd have this great life, and I'd never be a part of it again, and that killed me. Do you get that? You were the best part of me, and you left."

"I told you I'd come-"

He holds up his hand to silence you, and you hate how easily it works. His hand is so big. It used to wrap so easily around your throat. You swallow.

"So I fucked my way through the next year to forget you. And you know what? Every single girl I got drunk enough to fuck turned into you. I don't know how many of them heard me say your name. Every single one of them had the same colour hair as you, so when I took them from behind, I could imagine you."

It should make you sick. It's warped, but it makes heat bolt between your legs.

"Then Becky came along. Opposite of you. She looks nothing like you, acts nothing like you, too. We hated each other, but loved each other, too. You and me, we... we were stable. Steady. Becky offered something different. We shouldn't have stayed together, and we broke up for a bit, but then... Cransted."

"You don't have to talk about that." Your voice is softer now. "Your mum told me everything."

"No, no, it's good for me to talk about. That's what Lana says. And my therapist." He takes in a deep breath and continues. "I wasn't ready to die. And in that car, so many thoughts were running through my head. Of course, you were one of them."

You look down at your hands in your lap. What can you possibly say to that?

"Me and Becky got married a month after that. I didn't know what else to do with myself, and we were both fucking scared. We weren't careful and she got pregnant."

"You always wanted to be a dad."

"With the right woman, yeah." He sinks to his knees in front of you, and it's impossible not to notice his dark expression.

'You shouldn't talk like that. She's your wife."

"I wish she wasn't."

He rests his forheead on your bare knee. He pushes the skirt of your dress up. It makes your thighs tense. "Don't."

"I'll do whatever I want."

You stand up angrily. You'll leave him here just like you did in the living room, you don't care-

Before you can unlock the door, Billy presses you against it, his face inches from yours. "You didn't want anyone else but me, did you?"

"That's over now."

"No, it's not." He presses his knee between your thighs and you try not to shiver at the pressure.

"Let me go, Billy!" You hit his chest and try to push him away, but he catches your wrists and pins them above your head.

"You belong to me, don't you?"

"I belong to myself!"

"If that's true, why didn't you look for anyone else? It's been years, baby."

God, how much you used to love that pet name. He'd call you his baby girl, his pretty thing, his sweetheart, while you sucked his cock like you needed it to breathe. Even now, it makes you suck in air.

"Because I was waiting. There's nothing to wait for anymore."

"Liar." And then his lips are on your neck. He lifts up his leg, and your hips grind down. It's instintive. It's desperate.

"Fuck you," you whimper.

"That's it," he encourages. "Let me give you what you need."

"I don't need anything from you."

"Hmm. Such an attitude now." One of his large hands easily pins both of yours above your head, and the other wraps around your neck. Slender fingers find their old place against the vein under your skin, and he presses against it until you feel light-headed. Your eyes droop slightly, and he lets go with a smug smile. "That's it, baby. You gonna admit you want this, now?"

"I don't."

"Don't say that," he whispers against your ear. "It makes my dick hard."

Shivers go through you again. You grind harder against his thigh. "You're sick in the head."

"Sick for you."

"What about your wife?"

And then, he kisses you.

It's rough and deep, his tongue on the inside of your teeth, his lips hard and demanding. You both moan, both your hearts are racing. He forgets about the hand keep you in place, and instead, he uses both of his to yank down the neckline of your dress.

"Fuck, look at you." It's uncomfortable for a moment as he pushes your bra down, but you shrug your shoulders free of the straps, and then his hands pull you free and his fingers are squeezing you just like they used to. Your head drops back against the door, and his familiar mouth finds its way over your breast. He kisses your soft skin, biting and licking across the swell of your flesh until his lips find your hard nipple.

"Remember how I used to make you come from this alone?" he murmurs around your breast.

"No," you protest half-heartedly. Of course you remember. Over the years, you've tried to make yourself finish just by playing with your nipples, but it never worked. Not like it worked with him. "Stop it, we can't-"

"We are."

"Billy-"

"Fuck," he grunts. He pulls away his leg from between yours before grabbing your hips and lifting you up. "I need more."

"Please," you beg. Your body responds before you can even think about it, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He bends down his head to suck on your nipple against as he begins thrusting against you. Through your underwear, and his soft trouers, you can feel his hard cock grind against your cunt.

"Oh, my God," he moans. "God, you feel so good, baby."

"We have to stop!" you beg. But your legs are too tight around him. He grinds against you desperately, like a man possesesd.

"Mine. My pretty girl, you're where you belong. Look at me, now."

Dropping your head against the door, you look at him with heavily-lidded eyes. His cheeks are flushed, his forehead damp. His lip twitches as he thrusts against you.

"Open your mouth."

"No."

"Yes."

"No," you hiss.

With one arm still holding you firmly against the door, he grasps your face and presses your cheeks. It hurts so fucking much and it forces your jaw open. He spits into your mouth. Disgusting. You swallow gratefully.

"That's it," he praises lowly. "You're gonna make me come just doing this, baby."

"Don't call me that." Pleasure is mounting in you already. Just from dry humping, like you're teenagers again. But he makes you feel like a virgin again. And him calling you that doesn't help cool your passion.

"Why not?" He stills his thrusts. "Does it make your clit hard?"

It's impossible to hold back your moan. "Let me go."

He obliges - for a moment. Billy lets you go only to set your feet back on the ground, and then he spins you to press your face against the door, and he pushes up your dress. When he can't push your underwear to the side as much as he wants, he yanks it down. When you refuse to comply with taking it off, he just tears it. It leaves red marks on your thighs, the violent action, and you almost come from the senstation alone.

Fuck Billy Washington.

"God, I can smell you," he groans against your ear. "Did you think about me when you touched yourself for all those years apart?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Glancing over your shoulder, you can't hold back a choked moan. He only pushes down his joggers - couldn't even wear a nice pair of jeans for his mates' party, pathetic - enough to free his cock, and it's as perfect as you remember.

He notices how your mouth hangs open at the sight. "You want it in your sweet mouth, baby?"

"No," you whine.

"Do you suck on dildos and think of me?"

"No."

"I think you do," Billy whispers. Into your hair he presses his forehead, and he looks down as he bends you forward. You resist only a little - and then he's there, pushing you open. "Fuck, you're so perfect."

Tears spring in the corner of your eyes from the absolute need he's driving into you, body and soul. He's not yours anymore - but, God, you're still his. "Billy!"

"I wish you could feel how good you feel," he praises with a strained voice. Once he's fully sheathed inside you, he pauses, as if to drink it all in. "So fucking wet for me. So relaxed. You need this, don't you?"

Resting your head on the door, you shake it. "Fuck you."

"Hmm." He bites your ear and then blows into it, making goosebumps rise along your flesh. "Try again, baby."

"Fuck you."

"You want me to stop?"

You don't reply. The only response he gets is your strained breathing. And then, after a long moment, "no."

"Let me hear it."

You shake your head.

"Please," he whispers, nearly shaking from the restraint it takes to not lose control. "Please say those words I've missed. It'll be so good for you, my sweet girl."

Sweet girl. Baby. It's ridiculous, you know, but those names undo you. "Please," you beg. "Fuck me."

And he does.

He fucking does.

The pace he sets is relentless and brutal. He has to clamp his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet as he pounds into you again and again, pushing you higher and higher. You bite his palm and fingers in an attempt to stay silent, and the pain you cause makes him hiss.

But it doesn't matter. He's buried inside of you, his hands are all over you, and he's here, he's here, he's here. Billy, your Billy.

"Never again," he grunts between thrusts. "Not letting you go."

"Not leaving," you promise against his hand. Tears are rolling down your cheeks from the stinging pleasure of his cock, from how brutally high he's pushing you, from the years of frustration without him.

"Who do you belong to?"

"You," you babble mindlessly. "And you're mine."

"God, yes, I am," he promises.

The sound of your wet skin slapping together fills the bedroom. Downstairs, the thumping bass of the party hides your noises, you hope. He pushes two fingers into your mouth and you suck on them greedily. He gags you on them just for the delight of hearing you choke. Then he runs them, wet from your spit, down to your freed breast, and rolls your nipple between them. Carefully, he pulls on it, and it's a stark contrast to how hard he's fucking your pussy.

"Close," you moan. "Billy, yes, yes, don't stop, please-! Please-!"

His hard and fast pace is so much. He grunts against your ear, and then his nose is in your hair, and he bites your ear. "C'mon, baby, come on my cock!"

"Touch me," you beg.

And then his fingers are crooked around your clit, flicking and squeezing just how you always liked, and it has you higher and higher and tighter and tighter and the feeling won't let up and you're close, so close, there can't be anywhere else to go-!

"Billy! Billy! B-!" Your orgasm crashes over you in waves that spread through your whole body. You're spiralling, falling, writhing with it, your heart racing and pleasure exploding between your thights, up your chest, over your scalp. Your choked noises make your throat raw, the intensity makes your cheeks wet.

With your cunt still clenching and relaxing in increible aftershocks, Billy pulls out just in time to spill. Roughly, he bites your shoulder to keep quiet, but his name is on your lips. You feel him tremble behind you, how his knees are going weak.

You both stand there for a long moment, your back against his chest, his head in the crook of your neck. Slowly, he pulls your dress back down, and he pushes himself back into his trousers. After that, his hands find your waist. You try to pull away, but he won't let you go.

"Stay," he whispers. "With me."

"Billy," you murmur. The reality of what has just happened begins to sink in. "This... can't happen again."

"It will, though."

When you turn to face him, there is no regret in his face. "It can't."

He strokes your hair back from your face in a gesture that feels just as intimate as what just happened. "I won't let you go again."

"You're married."

"I'll leave her."

"You have a child."

"I love you more."

You shake your head. "You don't mean that."

He doesn't smile. 'What if I do?"

"I... you shouldn't. It's wrong."

"Don't care."

"Billy. You can't leave your wife."

"So you're happy to let me cheat on her with you?"

You wince. "This was a mistake."

"The only mistake either of us made was me letting you go. And I'm never, ever, doing that again." His blue eyes are intense, bearing into you as if he's searching your very soul.

"Never?"

He kisses your forehead. "No matter the cost. Never again."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for calling out my friend's spending habits?

✈💸 to find later

I (NB 20s) have been struggling to find employment for a long time. I've been struggling a lot with money- I'm technically indebted to my bank due to an overdraft I dipped into during my last weeks of university while paying off surprise fees, and in the entire year since have been unsuccessful in paying it off for any meaningful length of time. The stress has been immense and I've been avoiding like the plague any kind of personal purchase or leisure activity that might cost me anything. It's a mindset that's been making me profoundly miserable and that I'll probably struggle to get out of for a long time.

However, in the past few weeks, I've managed to land what I can only describe as my dream job. It doesn't start for another couple months, and the pay won't be fantastic (it's an internship), but without a doubt it will change my life. Desperate to do something nice and give myself a break, members of my family agreed to lend me money via plane tickets to do a nice trip this summer and see my best friends abroad, my last big hurrah before entering the full-time workforce for the rest of my life (and being able to pay them back). And I've been really excited! I've been saving even harder than usual, scraping up cash and politely asking grandparents. It won't be easy to support myself in another country in my financial situation, I understand that, but I'm at a point where I think I can do it for a short time and not be a burden on the people who are hosting me.

However, the only issue comes with my friend (NB 20s). I've known them for years, we're extremely close, and we've been waiting for a chance to see each other again for most of that time not knowing if it would ever happen due to my financial situation, so this is the opportunity of a lifetime. They really want to host me, for at least 2 weeks, and do all these nice things together we've been planning. But in the past month or so they've all but drained hundreds of dollars from their bank account in art commissions and room decorations for themself, all of which they've been excitedly showing off to me and our other friends, all the while running out of money entirely. They can't pick up work from their (seasonal) job anymore, either, so there's no way for them to earn back the money now, and recently they've started having to push their commissions just to cover their student loan payment this month. In ordinary circumstances I wouldn't mind and would try and help them out, but I won't be in any financial position on the trip to cover their bills as well as my own (at least not regularly), and I feel like this would have been so preventable if they'd just... picked less wildly expensive things to buy as a treat, knowing the circumstances.

They've said they're also stressed and need to buy themselves nice things sometimes, which I totally agree with! I'm not that much of a party pooper, they are in a rough situation themself right now and the stuff they bought does make them genuinely happy. But it also sucks to watch them then have to struggle to pay for bills and necessities because of it, and I feel really selfish for thinking of it in the framework of our time together later as well. I've done my absolute best to be able to spend at least a few weeks having a great time with them not worrying and pinching pennies while taking care of myself, but now I'm worried we're just going to spend the trip with both of us stressed out of our minds and stuck at home struggling to pay for gas. I'm an anxious person, and the few times I've tried to bring up my worries in a more gentle way, they've vehemently reassured me everything will be fine, but now I'm leaving in just over a week and everything seems like it's getting worse instead of improving.

I know I should be just glad to spend time in their company, even if it is just at home, but I can't stop feeling like the way they've been spending money in the leadup to this has been really irresponsible and preventable. But even if so, it made them happy in the moment so i should be happy for them too, and surely it's just straight up none of my business? It's also not like they can take it back now- it's already happened, and they can't earn the money back if they wanted to. I feel like if i called them on it at this point it'd just be a dick move and come across pointless and jealous, but I also can't help but think it's unproductive to let this gnaw at me the entire time, like I should really be communicating this kind of upset and talk it out first in case it comes to a head and boils over and ruins our whole time together.

I'm aware I'll be long into the trip by the time this posts but it'd be nice to look back and see other perspectives.

[kaleidoscopiccc]

more headcannons to add to the pile:

ocean is the only member of the choir that doesnt have her ears pierced because shes scared to death of needles

mischa is banned from the only wafflehouse in uranium for reasons he refuses to explain

noel and ocean made a pact in like middle school to get married if neither of them were married by the age of 30

neither mischa nor ricky are allowed on aux under any circumstances because theyll play nothing but badegg and undertale fan songs respectively

mischa walks around in a t-shirt and shorts in the middle of canadian winter, hes just immune to the cold for some reason

ocean sorts all her stationary in rainbow order, she will explode if they get messed up

noel and ocean get into arguments about the best taylor swift albums constantly during choir

ocean is a lover and fearless stan for life an noels favorite is reputation

constance doesnt even try to make her case for speak now

one time she did and both of them turned to her in sync, yelled "no!", and went back to fighting

penny casually brings up her trauma in the middle of conversions and proceeds to leave the rest of the choir speechless (“oh yeah like that one time i got my entire family and friends arrested in a police raid on our drug commune” “the WHAT”)

ocean has a bunch of sapphic romance books hidden under her bed even though literally no one but her goes in her room

noel was a theatre kid but was banned from all school performances after the nativity incident so he started taking art instead

constance is the same height as (if not a little shorter than) ocean but always wears platforms so ocean ends up being the shortest either way

“100% of people who have sex as teens die, you don't want to die do you?” -ocean oconnell rosenberg, 2009

everyone in the choir needs glasses just to varying degrees most of them just dont wear them for reasons ranging from "yeah thats understandable" to "WHAT THE FUCK RICKY

penny hates pants with all her heart and will only wear shorts or skirts no matter how cold it is outside

constance hates pants almost as much and will wear shorts all the way up to like december

mischa refuses to close any of the apps or tabs on his phone and it literally dies quicker than he did

ocean loves cats but cats hate her, if they dont kill her from allergies, theyll start scratching the shit out of her (she cant be within 500 ft of the potts household without dying on the spot)

noel literally had to lock penny and ocean in the choir room together for them to confess to each other

it took them 2 hours

the others were just outside playing cards the whole time

mischa taught ricky poker during those 2 hours and ricky absolutely wrecked him every single round

mischa rage quit after the 5th time he lost in a row

the piano in the st cassian music room (/choir practice room) has been horrendously out of tune for longer than anyone can remember and no one bothers to fix it (ocean tried once but failed miserably and probably just made it worse)