#i'm one inconvenience away from crying

[stormxpadme]

Doc still didn't call btw bc who needs to know if they're gonna get surgery in five days or not anyway :-)

[luciensbabbles]

Oh my god so I'm doing my NDIS application again since the first time it just fucking vanished into the ether and. It turns out my psychiatrist doesn't keep copies of the NDIS application form she fills out. So the only one in existence is my hard copy. And I don't even know if I have all the pages because I put it somewhere safe and I don't fucking remember where that is! I don't even know if I put it somewhere safe and didn't just leave it on my desk or floor after fighting the printer for like an hour to scan it all!!!!!

And the worst part is the NDIS person wanted this *today* and I don't have it!!!! It's friday here!!¡! I'm domed!!!! Can't keep things going until Monday now!!! I'm so upset and stressed !!!!

[sescoups]

on my knees - choi seungcheol

masterlist

summary: your best friend and roommate is out of the country, and you come home to find nothing short of a disaster. who else would you have called but her brother?

word count: ~9k oops

a/n: I have no fucking clue what happened to me, but I just started writing and then didn't stop for like 4 hours so. here you go. you're welcome and also I'm sorry.

18+ MDNI!! warnings under the cut!

warnings: heavy kissing, seungcheol is the epitome of a Simp, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't), oral sex (f receiving), slight size kink, let me know if I missed something!

You had been best friends with Sua since you were both six years old. One of the older boys had pushed you onto the ground, wanting to be ahead of you in the line for the slide. Most of the other kids had laughed as tears started pouring down your cheeks, your knee rubbed red and raw and your pretty dress covered in dust and gravel.

“Are you really so immature you can’t even wait your turn?” a small voice had piped up.

Through the haze of your tears, you had seen a pretty black-haired girl kneel down to help you out. She had brushed away the worst of the dirt from your dress, and leaned in to look at your knee.

“I don’t know much about scrapes,” she said thoughtfully, “but I think you should clean it. That’s what my mom always says to me and my brother.” Then she smiled before standing up and glaring at the boy again. “You’re a poopyhead, and I will never play with you.”

Thinking back on it as adults, you always laughed at her phrasing; even more amusing was the way the little boy had taken Sua’s comment way too seriously and tried to fight her in the playground. Before any of the adults had been able to intervene, Sua’s older brother had stepped between the two of them menacingly, arms crossed across his chest. He was three years older, so the other boy quickly back-tracked when faced with Seungcheol’s nine-year old frame. After the little boy had run away out of fear, crying, the two siblings had helped you off the ground and to your parents.

The rest was history; playdates as children, study dates in middle and high school, and spending every single summer vacation together. You had gone from climbing trees to shopping at the mall, and from learning the alphabet to crying your way through chemistry together. Well, you more than her, but still. The suffering was mutual.

Your dynamic remained largely unchanged throughout the years. You were the crier, and Sua was the fixer. You hated the way you cried at the smallest inconveniences, and often felt bad for Sua for having to fix it, but she always said it was cute. She said you were just like that, and that was okay. Sua had her own quirks, mainly being quick to anger - you reassured her that you didn’t mind holding her back from fights and silencing her before she could yell insults at undeserving people, so really, you were the same. Just, you know, in a different way.

Another thing that never really changed was the way Seungcheol took care of the both of you. He helped out with homework when he could, taught Sua how to fight (truly a dubious decision considering her anger, but that was his business and not yours), and scared away any icky boys that were mean to you.

It was a very different dynamic to how other siblings seemed to act, but since you were an only child, you wouldn’t really know. Though, to be fair, he seldom held back the snarky comments when the opportunity presented itself. He would roll his eyes whenever you cried, call Sua an idiot when she didn’t understand a math problem, and generally be a dick when you played games together. It was all in good fun, you supposed.

Now, being 24 years old and two years out of college, Sua was your roommate and your rock. She was the one who put up with your generally messy habits and lack of cooking acumen, and she only complained once a month or so. In return, you were the one to make sure bills were paid on time and keep the freezer stocked with ice cream during the hot summer months. A symbiotic relationship, if you’d ever seen one.

You saw significantly less of Seungcheol, though he was far from an uncommon fixture in your household. He knew the code for the keypad on the door, so sometimes he just showed up unannounced to raid your kitchen and take a nap on your couch, but you didn’t mind. He did tend to fix anything that was broken and clean up whatever you couldn’t be bothered to, so the transaction was fair in your opinion.

One fateful Tuesday, you received a call during your lunch break at work. Usually, you wouldn’t answer, preferring to take your 45 minutes to scroll down your social media feeds aimlessly while eating your food, but Sua had always had special privileges, so you picked up anyway.

“Hey, sorry, I know I’m interrupting your scheduled vegetable time,” she started, and you snorted in response.

“I am not eating anything with vegetables in it, and I think you know it.” You were opening the store-bought lunchbox while speaking, your phone tucked between your elbow and your cheek.

“If I didn’t cook you dinner every day, you would have scurvy,” she shot back without a second’s hesitation. “No, dumbass, I meant your own brain-turning-to-vegetable time. Duh.”

“Oh, that,” you replied, unphased by her insults and generally snarky tone. You were used to it. And also kind of deserved it.

“Yeah. Well anyway, something came up at work and I’m gonna have to take an unscheduled work trip.”

“Cool. Where to?”

“Tokyo, so not that far,” she sighed, and you could picture her running her fingers through her hair. She never did well with unexpected travel plans. “I have to leave tonight. I just thought I’d let you know, so you can make plans to get takeout tonight.”

You scoffed down the line, placing a forkful of bulgogi in your mouth and chewing quickly. God bless convenience store lunchboxes. “I know how to take care of myself, mom.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you slob.” Again, you could picture Sua’s nose crinkling in disgust. “I’m kidding, by the way. I know you can take care of yourself. Just letting you know I’m leaving so you don’t think I’ve been kidnapped or killed or something.”

“Thank God I don’t have to deal with the paperwork for a missing person,” you deadpanned and took a drink of your Sprite. “No but for real, enjoy the trip. I’ll be fine, and so will you.”

“Thanks,” your best friend sighed back. “I’ll be back in a week or so. I’m gonna go home and pack now, so if anything’s a mess when you get home- actually, nevermind. That doesn’t bother you at all. Bye.”

“Hey-” you started to protest, but the line went dead and you rolled your eyes.

Well. At least now you could have sushi for dinner without having to listen to Sua complain about the smell of raw fish.

You were so ready to become a couch potato as soon as you came home. One of the new employees at work, Jun, had screwed up a pretty important document, so you’d had to stay late and help him fix it. It wasn’t his fault, he was still new, but you were tired nonetheless. You took your shoes off by the door and turned the lights on in the kitchen, placing the bag of takeout on the counter before you heard it.

The water.

You had never had any issues with the pipes in your apartment, but something had obviously gone wrong with the pipes under the bathroom sink, because the floor was absolutely flooded. You gasped and shut your eyes tightly for a second, willing the problem to be miraculously gone as soon as you opened them again. Alas, no such luck.

The tears pressed behind your eyes, begging to make their escape. You tried to hold them back as you thought about what to do to solve the problem. The faucet wasn’t on, so it was definitely the pipes. Damn. You thought about calling the apartment management and asking for help, but their turnover time was two days at the best of times, and the office was already closed for the day. You heaved a deep sigh as you settled on the best option you could think of. You pressed the name in your contacts and begged the universe that he would pick up.

“What’s up?”

Seungcheol sounded relaxed and unbothered, and you could hear the chatter of a TV in the background. You hated to bother him, but hey, it was his little sister’s apartment too. You cleared your throat to try and get rid of the thickness in your throat brought on by the tears.

“Hey, Cheol,” you began, and you heard him sit up immediately and pause whatever was playing on the TV.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

He sounded worried; he usually only called you an endearment when he was worried or teasing you. Clearing your throat had evidently not been enough to get rid of the tears in your voice. Some of them finally escaped in tracks down your cheeks, and you swore, leaning your forehead against the doorframe.

“So uh, I just got home, and Sua isn’t here because she’s in Tokyo and I-”

“Y/N, I don’t care about Sua right now. I know she’s fine, she landed half an hour ago. What’s going on with you?”

“The guest bathroom is flooded, like completely, and I don’t know what to do.”

You heard the rustling of clothes and what sounded like keys jingling through the phone. “Jesus Christ, I thought you were fucking dying,” Seungcheol scolded, and you hiccupped a little, apologizing. “No, don���t worry darling, I’m coming over to help, okay?”

“Okay.”

You were sniffling, and you heard him curse under his breath. You hung up after a quick goodbye, and then you were left alone with the mess again. Looking closer, you realized that the bath mat was soaked along with a towel left on the floor. You sighed and took your socks off, deciding to do something productive while waiting for your knight in shining armor.

You took a picture and sent it to Sua, who replied immediately with a bunch of question marks and swear words directed to the apartment management. She also realized they would be no help at this hour. Great.

Once the soaked bath mat and towel were hung up and dripping into the tub as opposed to the flooded floor, you started clearing out some of the decorations that were taking up floor space. There was a giant plant, two laundry baskets, and a really heavy wooden dresser that held all your clean towels - you didn’t want the wood to rot.

You heard the door open while you were in the process of moving the plant. Honestly, you should have waited for Seungcheol to move this one; the plant was heavy as fuck and really awkward to carry, and you could feel your back protesting before you had even gotten it outside of the bathroom.

“What the hell, Y/N.”

The voice was closely followed by a pair of hands grabbing the plant from you and heaving it outside of the door in mere seconds. Showoff.

“Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked after placing the plant down on a towel, grabbing your upper arm gently. You nodded, and he sighed, squeezing your arm. “Let’s see the- oh fuck.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Hysterically. The bathroom floor was covered in two inches of water, and the sound of more spraying out was echoing off the walls. Your best friend’s brother glared at you for two seconds before he started laughing too. It wasn’t funny, but it kind of was. How had this even happened? And how had Sua not seen anything when she was home to pack?

“Sorry, Cheol,” you giggled, wiping under your eyes to get rid of the tears that were still falling. Typical. “I, uh, wanted to move the plant and the dresser to make more room and-”

“Darling, that plant was almost heavier than you are. Not to mention that dresser. What were you thinking?”

His voice soothed your panic. He had been solving your problems for the past eighteen years, after all; this was nothing he couldn’t handle. He looked ruffled, you realized. He had been relaxing after a long day at work when you called, and had gotten to your apartment as fast as he could just to help you. And now he was here, being all nice and caring and calling you sweet names. You felt like a stupid child.

“I-I’m sorry. For calling you, I shouldn’t have, I-”

“Absolutely not. You can call me about anything at any time, you got that?” he asked sternly, gazing directly into your eyes. You swallowed, but nodded. His words gave you unwelcome butterflies, the intensity of his gaze making you look away.

“Got it,” you replied when a nod didn’t seem to be enough for him. “Uhm, so how do we deal with this?”

For a moment, the only sound you could hear was the steady spray of water coming from under the sink. You realized that all the products underneath would be useless now, and you would probably have to change out the entire cabinet housing the pipes. You felt a migraine start a steady throb against your temples, and you deflated even more, resting against the doorway.

“It’s okay, I’ll fix it for you, darling,” Seungcheol said softly, pulling you in for a hug. Your stomach erupted in butterflies again. You seriously needed some psychological help.  “Just go change, okay? You must be exhausted.”

You shook your head, but relented when he lifted an eyebrow at you. You went to your room and closed the door. For a moment, you just stood there, staring at nothing. Your bathroom was flooded. And your best friend’s brother was helping you fix it, calling you sweet nicknames and saying shit straight out of a romance novel - as if your dumb crush on him needed any more encouragement. You sunk onto the edge of your bed for a moment, just breathing deeply and blinking back more tears. Enough was enough.

When you were fourteen or so, you’d had a crush on Seungcheol. Who wouldn’t? He was tall, pretty, smelled good, and helped you with your homework. Ever since then, it would come and go, usually at the most inopportune times. You appreciated his looks pretty often, particularly when he came over to fix stuff for you and Sua, but you tried not to think about it much - mostly out of self preservation. He was still pretty, still nice, still smelled good, and whenever you let your mind wander for more than five seconds, you knew you were in danger.

You definitely should get it under control. First of all, he had known you since you were six. He had seen all your weird phases, watched you find your own identity, and that came with some really cringy stuff. Additionally, you were his little sister’s best friend. You had some loyalty to her, sure, but more than anything you were sure that he saw you as an extra sister or something. Considering the amount of time you had spent at their house growing up, that would only be logical.

Armed with the reminder of why he would never be into you, you shook it all off. You located your regular home attire - bike shorts and a big t-shirt which origins you forgot - and put your hair up and out of your face. Then you steeled yourself again, vowing not to cry at the sight of the water, and walked back towards the accursed bathroom.

You found Seungcheol on his knees in front of the open cabinet from where the water came. He was hunched over, hand in front of him to block some of the water and seemingly looking for something. His white t-shirt had been sprayed with water, and it was sticking to his chest. You gulped at the sight, repeating that he saw you as an annoying crybaby to yourself in order to stop the stupid butterflies that had seemingly taken up permanent residence in your guts.

“Do you need a flashlight or something?” you asked timidly, making him look up at you. He paused and blinked at you once, twice, before clearing his throat and nodding. You got out your phone and turned the flashlight on, carefully stepping in behind him so as not to splash him.

“I, uh, think we need to remove this middle shelf from the cabinet,” he said, having positioned himself to shield you from the spray.

“Alright,” you replied, placing your phone to the side and leaning to grab the shelf before being stopped by one of his hands. He had placed it carefully on bare skin so as not to get your clothes wet. Damn him. “What? I’ll just grab it and get it out of the way for you.”

He scoffed. “You’ll get wet.”

Now it was your turn to blink at him stupidly, eyes wide and questioning. You could feel your cheeks burning, as did your arm where his hand was resting. This stupid, stupid man was going to make you fall in love with him, and that just couldn’t happen. At all.

“Who cares, Cheol? It’s just water. Let me get it out of your way, and I’ll hold the flashlight again, okay?”

He grimaced, but let go of your arm. You grabbed both sides of the shelf and lifted it. It took a bit of pressure, but eventually it came loose. You backed up slowly and brought the shelf over the tub with the soaked bath mat and dirty towel. Gross.

Even though you had been fast, Seungcheol had been right; your entire torso was soaked with water. You decided that you could do something about it after the leak was dealt with, and so you just ignored it and grabbed your phone again. Your friend was staring at your front with a wrinkle between his brows, mouth open a little, and you rolled your eyes affectionately.

“Cheol.” He looked up at you. “It’s fine. I know you wanted to shield me or whatever, but it’s just a shirt. Now please, help me solve this?”

He nodded wordlessly and turned back to the considerably more spacious cabinet, taking a deep breath. His pout was cute, and you hated your heart for beating faster at the sight of him.

Seungcheol seemed to finally have found what he was looking for, and reached into the cabinet. You altered the angle of the light to make sure he could still see what he was doing despite the shadow of his arm. He grabbed ahold of something and started tugging, his biceps flexing distractingly and his eyebrows screwing up in effort. You were definitely not holding the flashlight in a particularly helpful way anymore, but thankfully your helper didn’t seem to mind.

After a second or two the water slowed before stopping completely, and you cheered out loud. The sound had somehow become grating after only an hour, and the silence was very much welcome. Seungcheol stood up with a wince, holding a hand to his back like an old man. Without thinking, you pulled him into you and gave him a bear hug. You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but held them back. You were just so grateful to have him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

You felt him laugh against you before he wrapped an arm gently around you and returned the hug. You pressed your cheek to his chest, just standing there and enjoying the embrace for a while before your brain would inevitably come back online. You felt his chin press against the top of your head for a second before he pulled away suddenly.

“Shit, sorry, I’m all-”

“I said I don’t care, stupid,” you scoffed, but your cheeks were definitely getting red now. How could you have just grabbed him like that? And embraced him? You would have cried if you hadn’t been so tired your head felt like it was full of cotton.

Now that you thought about it, you were extremely tired. It felt like a movie effect, the way your blood pressure just suddenly dropped and you swayed to the side. You were expecting a splash and a very uncomfortable kiss with the tile floor, but instead you found yourself back in Seungcheol’s arms. Oh.

Again with the stupid romance novel shit. The universe was testing you for sure. How were you supposed to resist him, really? You were doomed. Even the thought of your infatuation with him being one-sided could no longer bring you back down to the ground. You were simply fucked.

“When was the last time you ate anything?”

And he cares? Fuck the universe, seriously.

“Uhm, I think it was lunch. I stayed pretty late at work, so-”

“Please tell me you have food.”

“Y-Yeah. It’s uh, it’s on the counter in the kitchen.”

Without hesitation, the man picked you up and carried you into the kitchen. Your heart was going crazy, as were the butterflies in your stomach. You were at a loss for words, just going limp in his arms as he brought you to the dining table and placed you on one of the chairs gingerly. You continued to simply blink at him as he disappeared back into the hallway and came back with his hoodie, pulling it over your head before disappearing into the kitchen.

You wanted to scream and kick your feet, because was this man even real? You had no idea how you had deluded yourself into thinking your feelings toward him were sisterly, because currently, your pussy was screaming for him to come ruin you. And honestly? Both your heart and your head kind of agreed at this moment. You were so screwed.

When he came back with your sushi all plated and a glass for the drink you had bought, you couldn’t help but let the tears come back. You hated that you were so weepy, especially in front of a man you apparently were head over heels for, but it was just who you were. You were sad? You cried. Happy? Cried. Angry? Waterworks. You were helpless to it, and apparently to him, too.

“Good job picking up food on the way back home,” he teased, placing the plate in front of you. Then he poured your drink into your glass for you, promptly ignoring the way you were wiping your cheeks with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Shut up, I’m an adult,” you pouted back. He snorted loudly and sank into the chair opposite you, looking at you as you picked up your chopsticks and got ready to eat.

“Sometimes, maybe,” he drawled with a smirk. You glared at him, but your teary eyes had little to no effect, and you knew it. “I’m kidding, baby. I know.”

He was still studying your face as you placed the first piece of heaven into your mouth, sighing happily and smiling in delight. It made him smile, too, and you could have died at the sight of his dimples. At this point, you had just accepted the butterflies and their claim to your stomach; doing anything else seemed futile.

“I’m sorry I’m so weepy, Cheol,” you said between bites, pouting a little. He shook his head but you interrupted him before he could speak. “No, really. There was no reason to cry so much, or so many times, but I just- I don’t know. I literally got home right before I called you, and that was, what? At around-”

“9.30.”

“Yeah,” you sighed, leaning back in your chair and tilting your head back in exhaustion. “9.30. I’m just tired, is what I’m trying to say.” You sat back up and huffed, sending him an embarrassed smile.

“And what I’m trying to say,” Seungcheol said while you readjusted the sleeves of his hoodie, “is to not worry about it. I know you’re an emotional person, but that’s okay.” He paused for a second, smiling when you almost dropped your sushi into the soy sauce. “Being emotional is just a tiny part of who you are. You excel at so much; it’s okay to have a few flaws. We all do, I promise. Besides, being emotional isn’t really a flaw, it’s just part of being human.”

At this, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. First of all, he was way too well-spoken to be a man in his twenties. Second of all, if he was implying that he, of all people, had any flaws, he was dead wrong. You had never seen him fail at anything, had never seen him do something awkward, even as a child. God, you wished he had, because maybe then he could have remained the brother of your best friend instead of becoming so incredibly meaningful to you.

“As if you have any flaws,” you mumbled, sticking another piece of food in your mouth. At least the sushi was good.

“Oh please, sweetheart. I’m twenty-seven and single. There’s plenty wrong with me.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Being single is not a flaw, you dummy. It’s just a relationship status. Who cares.”

“As if that’s all it is,” he laughed back.

“Okay, so the fact that I’m single reflects badly on me? ” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Good to know.”

Your plate was empty, and your chopsticks were resting on the edge of it. The only sound in the apartment was a steady, slow drip from the drying bath mat in the bathroom. You were staring at one another from across the table. Why the tension suddenly was so thick was anyone’s guess. All you knew was that the air in your little kitchen suddenly felt suffocating.

“You’re single?” he asked after a while, and you laughed a little.

“Yeah, Cheol.”

“What about that dude, what was his name… Mingyu?”

“Ew,” you said, wrinkling your nose. “God no. We went on like, one date and then decided it was weird to be anything other than friends. He feels more like a brother than anything.”

“What about Chan?”

“Wh- Chan? That was four years ago,” you laughed, shaking your head. At the curious tilt of his head, you kept going: “He was fine, we just got stressed during college and broke up. It happens.”

Something about this line of questioning felt momentous, for a few reasons. One, he was inquiring about your dating life, a topic the two of you generally never talked about. Two, he remembered the name of potential partners that had been in your life, even ones that hadn’t stuck around for long (or at all, in Mingyu’s case). And three… the way he looked at you was different. There was something in his gaze that you couldn’t place, something you didn’t know if you dared hope for.

“Well he’s obviously an idiot,” Seungcheol said under his breath. You were probably not supposed to hear it, but you did. Your heart stuttered in your chest as he looked at you guiltily, as if he had done something wrong. “I just meant that- uhm.”

A few seconds passed in silence. You barely dared to breathe. You were hoping he would keep going, hoping he would clarify before your thoughts went way too far again. The tension was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. Finally, he let out the heaviest sigh you’d ever heard.

“No, you know what, I meant it. He was an idiot for breaking up with you, because anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Time stopped. What do you say after that? You wanted to scream with joy and jump his bones, of course, but you couldn’t exactly do that. What if he didn’t mean it like that? If he didn’t feel the way you hoped he was implying? Because he, or more specifically his sister, was such a huge part of your life, and awkwardness was just not an option.

“Are-” you started, but blinked and started over. “Are you… serious?”

“Of course I am, Y/N.” He sounded almost exasperated. He ran a hand through his slightly damp hair, making it fall over his forehead in the most attractive way you had ever seen. Fucking. Unfair. “I’m not- I mean. I get it if you don’t feel the same or anything, but-”

“Feel what, exactly?” When he stared at you in confusion, you elaborated. “Please be clear with me, Cheol. I don’t want to keep guessing.”

It had come out as a whisper, but he had heard you. His expression softened, and the wrinkle between his brows disappeared. His mouth was slightly open as he seemingly looked for the right words. Your heart was beating out of your chest, and you almost felt it in your throat.

“Baby,” he started, and it made your breath hitch. “I don’t think I’ve ever met someone as dense as you are.”

“Hey!”

“No, seriously,” he kept going, not a single trace of evidence that he was joking, “do you actually mean to tell me you don’t know how I feel about you?”

“Look, I don’t-”

“I guess you don’t, and in that case, that’s my bad.” He got up from his chair and rounded the table, crouching next to your chair and grabbing your hand. “I am so ridiculously into you, it’s not even funny. Sua literally won’t stop teasing me about it, neither will my parents or my friends. No matter how hard I try I can’t stop thinking about you, but I’m honestly not sure I would want to even if I could. You mean so much to me, Y/N, and I really don’t want to be overbearing but I- fuck, I can’t-” he shuts his eyes in an attempt to collect himself, “I love you, baby, and if you don’t feel the same that’s fine, but I at least need you to know that I’m on my goddamn knees for you.”

Your glass, still containing some of your soda, toppled over from the force with which you left your chair. The way you threw yourself at Seungcheol forced him back, but you took the opportunity and placed yourself in his lap as you kissed him deeply. It took him half a second to respond, but then he was kissing you so ardently that you never wanted him to stop.

His arm wrapped around you from behind and pressed you to his chest. You could not give less of a shit that he was sprawled on your kitchen floor, or that you were down there with him, because you were kissing him. You were kissing the man that you most definitely had been in love with since you were a teenager, and fuck did it feel good.

“I, uh, take it you feel the same, then?” he asked after having reluctantly pulled away. You pressed your forehead to his.

“I bet that I have loved you longer.” You were breathing heavily, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours.

“Absolutely not,” he replied before kissing you again.

This time, you couldn’t hold back. You nibbled gently on his lower lip before soothing it over with your tongue. Seungcheol groaned deep in his chest and brought his left hand into your hair, pressing you even closer to him. He opened his mouth, letting your tongue tangle with his, and you felt the way he became jelly underneath you. You were not faring much better, your panties hot and sticky and your hands shaking. Despite this, you snaked one hand into his hair and tugged on it; his hips jumped in response, the action seemingly completely involuntary. You didn’t think you’d ever experienced anything hotter.

“Please, baby,” he heaved as you trailed your lips down his neck, “I can’t take it.”

You rolled your hips against his slowly, and that seemed to be his breaking point. He rolled you underneath him before standing up and taking you with him, carrying you into your bedroom while you followed the shape of his jaw up to his ear with your mouth. A shudder streaked through him as you sucked on the spot behind his left ear, his arms tightening around you and a hoarse moan leaving him.

You barely noticed him closing your bedroom door, only brought back to reality by the sensation of falling when he dropped you on your bed. You whined at the loss of contact, which made him smile; he loved the way you craved him, because honestly, he felt the exact same way about you. So he was quick to cover your body with his, his lips back on yours with a shuddered sigh from the both of you.

He felt so big above you, and yet you felt so safe. Not once had he done anything to hurt you. In fact, he had always been the one to take care of you and prevent you from being hurt. (Along with Sua, but you didn’t really want to think about her at that moment). His weight on top of you made you shudder in delight, your hands starting to wander. You played with the hem of his white t-shirt, still damp from the earlier bathroom catastrophe, but you didn’t care at all. All you wanted was to feel his skin against yours.

He was breathing as if he had run a marathon when he pulled away from your lips. He stared into your eyes, looking for any sign of reluctance, but not finding any.

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked, and your heart swelled about three sizes.

“I’m so sure, Cheol. Please, please, I need you.” You were properly whining now, but you were far past caring.

“Okay baby, okay,” he breathed, pulling away to get his shirt up and over his head. He was about to lay back over you, but froze and let his eyes wander your body. He shut his eyes, his forehead wrinkling once again as he took a few deep breaths. “You in my hoodie and underneath me, I can’t- Y/N, baby, I need a second, I’m so-”

You giggled a little before grabbing the hem of said hoodie, pulling it up and over your head. Apparently, that didn’t help, as Seungcheol’s grip on the sheets tightened and he cursed under his breath.

“I thought this would be better,” you said in confusion, blinking up at him.

“I’m actually going to die,” he gritted out, sounding as if he was genuinely in pain. “I don’t think you realize what seeing you in a wet t-shirt did to me earlier, sweetheart. What it’s doing to me now is just torture.” You flushed at his words, having forgotten that little detail. “Wait. Is that my shirt?” You glanced down and flushed even more when you realized it must be. “Fuck, gonna be the death of me, gonna fucking-”

He cut himself off by pressing his lips against yours again. Your head immediately got fuzzy again, the only thought you could formulate being that of his dick inside of you. When he ground his hips against yours and you felt the outline of it, you let out the most sinful moan Seungcheol has ever heard, which caused his hips to keep grinding into you without his brain’s permission. You disconnected your lips from his for just long enough to pull your wet shirt off your alarmingly hot body, and the man on top of you didn’t even have the strength to look at you without a shirt. He might actually have came in his pants if he did.

You didn’t even mind, because you finally had his skin pressed against yours. The heat of him poured over you, driving you absolutely insane and making you whimper against his lips. If he didn’t do something in the next minute, you would just have to take care of yourself.

“Cheol-”

“Please say it again,” he begged, his lips trailing down your neck toward your breasts.

“Cheol,” you sighed, and he moaned against your skin, his dick grinding perfectly against your clit even through four layers of fabric. You barely recognized your own sounds even as you felt them leave your lips, so high on his proximity you couldn’t have produced a thought if you tried.

When you repeated his name one more time he finally closed his lips around your right nipple, his deft fingers playing with the other and his cock still pressing deliciously against your pussy. Your hips lifted to grind back on him, and he actually whined for you.

“Seungcheol,” you whined, and his only response was a harsh thrust of his hips and another whine. “Please, take my shorts off, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

He let go of your nipple, chuckling as he looked into your eyes and dragged his hands down to rest on your hips. “Want these off?” he asked, flicking the elastic of your bike shorts against your skin. You nodded frantically, pressing your hips up into his again. He looked like he wanted to protest, so you decided to do the only logical thing and beg for his cock.

“Cheol, please please please, take my shorts off? I need it, please,” you begged, your eyes big and innocent as you stared into his. “I want your cock, baby, want it inside me, please.”

Honestly, it was no surprise that his confident facade crumbled along with his will to tease you any longer. If he was telling the truth, and you had no reason not to believe him, he had been in love with you for a long time. You had played dirty by begging him for his cock when he had already been on the verge of losing his mind - especially with those big, innocent eyes of yours. How was he supposed to say no to you?

“Evil, evil woman, fuck,” he muttered to himself as he all but tore the shorts down your legs along with your panties.

The sight of you, his absolute dream, naked beneath him made him believe in God for two whole seconds, for who could have accomplished something like you but an almighty deity? He must have shaped you with his own two hands, he thought, before coming back to his senses and thinking that no, you were a creation of your own. No one but you could have accomplished something like you.

With very little preamble, Seungcheol lowered himself between your thighs, kissing up the inside of each thigh as he went. He looked up and met your gaze, and you had never seen a more erotic sight. Sure, other people had gone down on you before, but none of them had been Seungcheol; none of them had been the one that counted. His big brown eyes met yours, and you swore you saw raw hunger in them.

“May I, baby? Please?”

“You- You’re begging to eat me out?” you asked, in complete and utter shock. You had figured this was somewhat of a chore to him, something that needed to be done both to woo you and to prep you for his cock. One look at his glazed eyes had you changing your mind.

“Yes,” he said without hesitation. His voice was hoarse and his eyes desperate, that simple look giving you enough material for many fantasies in the future. “Please, let me eat you out?”

What were you supposed to do, say no? Absolutely not. You simply nodded at him, and he fucking dove for it. His tongue explored your folds gently but firmly, and as soon as the flavor of you met his taste buds, he was in heaven. His hips ground into the mattress of their own volition as he was lapping at you, his tongue mapping you out and figuring out what brought you the most pleasure.

Seungcheol’s eyes were shut in pleasure, your juices covering his chin all the way up to his nose, but he couldn’t think of anything better. He wanted to drown in you, on his stomach between your legs, or - if he was allowed to dream - underneath you while you were grinding all over his face, taking all the pleasure you could from him.

You weren’t exactly complaining, either. His tongue felt divine, moving to gently circle your clit before he sucked it into his mouth. When your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging in pleasure, your lover let out a grunt that sent vibrations traveling through your entire body.

“F-Fingers, Cheol, please-”

He just grunted an affirmative and pressed his middle finger into you slowly. The warmth surrounding his finger drove him insane, making his hips press harder against the mattress and his eyes squeeze tighter. Having something to clench down on brought your pleasure to even greater heights, and you started to feel the familiar tightening signaling your release. You had felt the outline of his dick earlier, and you knew you would need another finger to make him fit.

“Another, I need you to fit later, baby.”

Your voice came out shaky, but the man consuming your pussy like it was the best meal he’d ever had didn’t seem to mind. He simply let his ring finger join his other inside you, grunting when he felt how tight you were around him. The tightening in your lower belly grew more and more intense by the second, the filthy noises of Seungcheol devouring you bringing you that much closer to the edge. You let out a mewl that sounded like it came straight from a porno, and felt his grip tighten on your thigh.

“I’m so close, baby, so close, please-”

“Come for me,” he growled hoarsely before resuming his delicious torture of your clit.

You followed his request a second later, moaning loudly and squirming around on the bed. His free hand pressed down over your hips to keep you still as he coaxed you through it, and he didn’t stop until the overstimulation almost hurt.

His fingers left your pussy gently, absolutely covered in your slick. You blushed as he put them in his mouth, moaning at the flavor as if you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. And to him, you were. He would remember the flavor of you until the day he died.

Your chest was rising and falling as you gulped down air. The way Seungcheol couldn’t help but grind into the mattress again made you want to cry, because how could he be so perfect? And how could he want you, of all people?

When he kissed you again, you could taste yourself on his lips and tongue, and you loved it. It was a reminder of just how voraciously he had just eaten you out, and you took the opportunity to reach down and cup him over his underwear. He hissed and pulled his hips back, panting already.

“I- you can’t.”

“But, baby I just want to return the favor-”

“My love, if you touch me again I can’t guarantee that I will have faculties to be inside you.”

His words made you laugh, both because of how ridiculous his phrasing was, but also because of the effect you seemed to have on him. Had he really been driven so far by making out with you and making you cum? It seemed like it.

“I love you so much,” you ended up breathing out. He gazed into your eyes so adoringly you felt like time stopped again.

“I love you more, Y/N.”

His response prompted you to kiss him, and he deflated on top of you. As he sunk further into your embrace, his still-covered dick brushed against your wet core, and the whine he let out was almost pathetic.

“I hate to ruin the moment, but please, let me be inside you now. I think I’ll die if I can’t,” he confessed. You laughed out loud again before nodding, kissing and sucking a trail down his neck while he removed his boxers. “Condom?”

“I don’t have any, but I have an IUD and I’m clean.” You could practically see Seungcheol’s brain grind to a halt. “But, I mean, if you don’t want to we can just wai-”

“No!” he almost yelled, his entire face flushing pink. “No, I’m clean too, and I- fuck, I would love to be inside you without a condom.”

You nodded, and he took a deep breath. The thought of having him inside you without a barrier excited you to no end, and it seemed he felt the same. You kissed him passionately again while he lined himself up with your core, and moaned through a sigh as he pushed into you. He didn’t have a monster cock or anything, but it was still bigger than what you were used to taking.

As he bottomed out, he let out a punched out sigh. You could feel him shaking on top of you, and did your best not to move or clench down on him. Unfortunately, your pussy didn’t exactly obey you and clenched down anyway. It made Seungcheol’s breath hitch, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight so as not to look at you while he was trying not to cum.

“I swear,” he wheezed, “you are going to kill me.”

His words made you chuckle, which in turn made him groan and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You were ready for him to move, and told him as much, but he still needed a second. You could feel tears sting the corners of your eyes, as per usual feeling weepy as soon as you felt a big wave of emotion. To distract yourself, you locked your lips with his and kissed him with all the passion you had left to give.

As your tongue tangled with his he groaned low in his throat, and his hips thrust into you of their own accord. Once he had started, he couldn’t stop, and you didn’t want him to. He started out fairly slow, taking his time to make sure you weren’t hurting at all. Then you accidentally clenched down on him, and he could no longer hold back.

He started pounding into you, his cock reaching the deepest parts of you and making you dizzy. You moaned out every time the tip of him hit the spongy spot inside you, and you couldn’t help the way you were clenching around him. You were hurtling toward your end so fast it was almost alarming. He filled you up so perfectly, so perfectly thick and long, it was as if you were made for one another.

Seungcheol was mumbling an endless stream of praise, grunting every time your cunt squeezed him a bit tighter. He felt like he was in heaven, your slick walls molded around him in a way that made him mourn the time spent doing anything other than this. He wanted to keep you like this, impaled on his cock and making you feel as good as you ever had.

Sadly, he was so wound up he wouldn’t be able to last as long as he usually did. While he didn’t blow immediately as he had been worried he would, he started feeling his balls drawing up around five minutes in. The way your nails were scratching down his back wasn’t helping his situation.

In an effort to save himself from cumming before you, he lowered a hand to circle the nub of your clit gently. The extra stimulation was exactly what you needed to build the rest of the way to the edge, and you tangled your hands in his hair as your thighs shook.

“Please, Cheol, baby, I’m gonna-”

“Oh thank God, please cum around me, baby, wanna feel it,” he begged, and it did the trick.

Your orgasm was spectacular, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as you exploded around him. You were moaning his name, clawing at his back and arching your back to the high heavens. Your toes actually curled. It was the orgasm of orgasms.

Seeing you like that, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he brought you pleasure was enough for Seungcheol to follow you over the edge. He came so hard he saw nothing but white, his hips stuttering as he spilled himself into you. His face was pressed into your neck, but his moans could not be concealed even if he tried.

You both lay there, panting and soaked in sweat, for a pretty long time before he finally pulled out and rolled off of you. He sprawled on his back and stayed like that, his eyes shut in complete and utter bliss and his heart beating out of his chest. Your hair was an absolute bird’s nest around you, and there were tear tracks running down your cheeks and into your hairline.

You clumsily flopped over to rest against his side, and he pulled you in until your head was resting right over his heart. You slung your bare leg over his waist, and he groaned in what sounded like agony.

“You can’t do this to me,” he whined, and you giggled lightly at him.

“I just put my leg on you, baby,” you said, looking up at him innocently, and he had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself he wasn’t dreaming. You, yourself weren’t entirely convinced all this wasn’t a dream; and if it was, you never wanted to wake up.

“Okay, well you’ve just seen what seeing you in a hoodie and bike shorts does to me, so,” he reminded you, and you bit back a grin. It was good to know you could tease him easily.

You laid in silence for a while, just listening to his heart beating against his ribcage. Every once in a while it would slow down, and then he would look down at you and it would speed back up. Your heart seemed to match the pace of his, and you found that you loved it that way.

“So, “ Seungcheol started, and you pulled yourself up on your elbow to look at him as he talked. “That… just happened.” You snorted into a laugh, and he joined you, flicking your forehead gently. “I uh, I’m going to a work thing on Friday. I usually don’t bring a date because, well, because I’m usually single, but maybe, this time, I could bring you?”

You blinked at him slowly, admiring him in the light from your bedside lamp. He was pretty no matter what, but with his cheeks glowing and his eyes glittering, he was beyond what was natural, in your opinion. You stroked a bit of his hair behind his ear and hummed.

“I mean, are you not single anymore?” you asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Uhhhh-” he was interrupted by your laughter, and he pouted at you jokingly. “Don’t do that! I get scared I fucked up,” he said and rolled over to wrap his arms around you.

“I’m sorry,” you giggled, “I just don’t know either.” You paused. “Hey Cheol?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”

At your words, his entire face lit up. He started giggling and buried his face in your hair, trying to hide from view. Even still, you knew he would be blushing. His arms squeezed tighter around you as he pulled you even closer, and you didn’t even mind that you couldn’t breathe.

“I was going to ask,” he ended up whining once brain function had returned to him. “Can I?”

“I mean, sure?” you answered, trying your hardest not to just lean in and kiss away his pout. Your willpower sucked, so you did it anyway.

“Great! Hey, Y/N, would you be my girlfriend?”

You bit your lip to hold in your laughter, but all it did was summon your boyfriend’s gaze to your mouth. You released it and broke out into a huge grin, nodding.

“I would love nothing more.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Sua said thoughtfully, “you finally put him out of his misery?”

It was a week later, and you were sitting on your balcony with Sua and drinking coffee. The bathroom floor was now dry, and while the stupid bath mat had been unsalvageable, everything else had been fine. The apartment management had gotten the leak fixed after five days, proving that calling Seungcheol had been the right choice for more reasons than one.

Even thinking about him, you couldn’t help but smile. Your boyfriend. The one who had brought you to a work function as your first date, and the one who had gotten jealous because you had greeted a coworker of his when he was getting you a drink. The one that had helped you save your apartment from water damage. The one you had loved for the past decade.

“Okay but how could I have put him through misery if I didn’t know he liked me, hm?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at your friend. She had her eyes closed, face turned toward the sun like an old lady.

“You cannot be serious,” she said incredulously, turning toward you and opening her eyes wide to show her shock. “You’re telling me you didn’t know Cheol was in love with you? He has been so down bad for you since we were like fourteen, man. He bought you flowers for your graduation. He reminded you to take your allergy pills before going to a dog café.” You flushed a little at your own blindness, but Sua just sighed and turned back toward the sun, her eyes closed again. “At least it will be easy to kill him if he hurts you.”

a/n: if you liked this, please don't forget to like and reblog! <3

masterlist

[lancermylove]

Injured (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Leona, Ruggie, Epel, Ace, Jamil, Floyd with fem!Reader

Warning: None

Requested by: @bluestarluxa-blog

Prompt: How about the basketball club and spelldrive club reacting to their girlfriend taking care of them after they get injured? 

———————————————

Leona

The prince was initially grumpy and resistant, not wanting to seem weak, even though his leg had a nasty gash. "I don't need help; it's just a scratch." You were already prepared to hear those words, but you were determined to help him. Deep down, Leona truly appreciated your attention and care - and the fact that he got to sleep most of the day while you (and Ruggie) took care of everything for him. But did he admit this openly? No. His pride didn't allow him, but the prince felt loved. Sometimes, you caught him looking at you tenderly, but he quickly looked away when you noticed. Luckily for you and unknown to Leona, Ruggie captured a video of Leona staring at you with love. It's your MOST favorite video ever.

Ruggie

Ruggie was instantly grateful for your help; he always helped others in the dorm, but no one ever helped him. He often made light of the deep gasp on his arm: "Guess I'm not invisible after all, huh?" While he enjoyed your attention, he didn't want you to worry too much about him, so he never let you change his bandages. Ruggie knew if you saw his injury, you would panic or cry, and he didn't want that. He often teased you by saying playful and sweet things, like "I feel spoiled" and "What did I do to deserve this, but I ain't complaining." After he recovered, he pampered you to no end as a way to thank you for caring for and about him.

Epel

Epel didn't want your help because he felt embarrassed, but Rook convinced him to rest his broken finger and accept your help. He often tried to downplay his injury: "It ain'-isn't bad, really." Despite his initial reluctance, he was grateful you were willing to help him. Although, he often blushed and felt embarrassed about being cared for by you. In honesty, he was secretly happy and comforted by your presence and attention. Epel might have acted tougher than he felt, but his gratitude was evident in his eyes and the way he smiled affectionately.

Ace

Ace was a bit dramatic and exaggerated his pain from the bruise he received on his leg just for some extra attention. "Ouch, this really hurts! I need some serious love and attention," were the usual phrases he used to draw you toward him. While he enjoyed your care and affection, he also took the chance to tease you whenever you took care of him. Ace was grateful for your help, even though he never verbally thanked you. The genuine affection in his eyes was enough to show his true feelings. Once he recovered, he thanked you properly. "You know, having you around makes everything better. Maybe I'll get injured more often."

Jamil

Jamil was stoic and reserved, saying he didn't need your assistance as it was a trivial injury. In reality, he didn't want to cause you any inconvenience or make any fuss about his pain. But you and Kalim knew his twisted ankle was not a trivial injury. Jamil secretly appreciated your care and attentiveness but tried his best not to show it because he didn't want you to do more than needed for him. His favorite medicine you gave was your cuddles. And you were right - they helped lessen his pain. "Thank you. Your concern means a lot," he genuinely said once he recovered before giving you a kiss on your forehead.

Floyd

Initially, he was annoyed and grumpy about his dislocated knee. He also sulked and became pouty. "This is such a pain. I hate being injured." But when you started to care for him, he quickly became affectionate and clingy. Jade also thanked you for taking over and giving him a break from his twin's complaints. You lost count of how many times he told you he loves you. Floyd got so used to you taking care of him that he fakes injuries all the time after he heals just so he can have you around more.

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2][3] ➣ Main Masterlist

[ddejavvu]

How would Derek morgan react if you cryed bc he cut his finger while opening a box for you 😭 I've literally done this before bc my dad was opening smth for me and he cut his finger 😭 I felt TERRIBLE

He doesn't notice your tears until he's sealing a bandage over the cut on his finger, but when he sees the misty sheen over your eyes, he jumps into action.

"Hey, woah mama, what's the matter?" He reaches for your waist, comforting both for his touch and the way you can't see his injury anymore.

"I'm sorry," You sniffle, "I didn't mean to make you cut yourself."

"You didn't jab me with the scissors," He laughs sympathetically, wiping your tears with his large thumb, "Don't sweat it, pretty baby, it was my fault."

"Still, you were opening it up for me," You lament, "'S my fault."

"Yeah, well technically it's Reid's fault that I fell on my ass last week on the jet," He shrugs, "But I didn't hold that against him or his inconveniently large feet that stick out into the aisle."

You giggle wetly, and he leans in to kiss your forehead with a smile on his face.

"You fell?" You ask, and he nods even if he scoffs at the questioning.

"Almost clocked my head on the table," He recalls, "But I escaped without a concussion."

"That's why your butt feels flatter," You muse teasingly, "I might have to fluff it back up again like a pillow."

His hands dart away from your waist to cover his backside, eyes wide and terrified, "No- no, do not get your hands anywhere near my ass. You're relentless, I can't ever get you off of it."

"It would make me feel better," You exaggerate the thickness of your voice, wiping at a phantom tear as if you'd been the one wounded.

"Oh, you- really? Fine, fine, you get one minute. Forty-five seconds, if you start getting too squeezy."

"If you really loved me you'd give me five minutes," You heave a sigh, hands already reaching for his ass, "But forty-five seconds will have to do."

"You're such a drama queen," He huffs, but the startled yelp he lets out when your nails dig into his skin through his jeans suggests that you're not the only dramatic one.

[killerlookz]

hiii!!<3 if you’re thinking abt writing for joost, can u pls write some thing abt an established relationship fic based off the song birds of a feather by billie eilish if u can! love ur writing!

Hi anon! thank you sm for the request <33 this song is so sweeeet omg!!! also... technically an established relationship, but i do recap how reader and joost met :-)

Birds of a Feather | Joost Klein

description: gn!reader reflects on all the special moments in your and Joost's relationship following an unexpected proposal.

content: so insanely cheesey! sorry! pure fluff! + lots of crying (mostly happy tears) literally the most tiny smallest sexual reference this fic contains rpf, do not continue if that makes you uncomfortable

word count: 2426 (this was supposed to be under 1k words but i got soooo carried away)

/I don't know what I'm crying for / I don't think I could love you more/

Shaky fingers fiddle with the cold metal looped around your ring finger. Your hand flexes outward, watching as the light from your window reflects onto the small stone. Something warm rolls down your cheek- a solitary teardrop, caressing the skin of your face. Your hand reaches up to wipe away the tear, but it's too late, you can feel more welling up near your waterline, any sudden movement now would send tears streaming down your face. You look up, your eyelids brink rapidly in an attempt to prevent the inevitable waterworks.

You hadn't seen an engagement coming- in all the years you'd been together, it still seemed like a milestone that had felt so far away. Until Yesterday.

You and Joost had been nearly inseparable since just about the moment you had met- A nervous 20-year-old studying abroad in the Netherlands for your second to last semester of university. You sat on the stairs outside of the apartment building that stood as your temporary housing for the semester, on the brink of tears, your randomly assigned roommate had been a real piece of work. You were on your third argument that week alone, and, saying you were fed up was an understatement. You contemplated at that moment packing your things and just going back home.

"Gaat het?" (Are you ok?) A voice calls out, a goofy-looking blonde standing at the bottom of the stairs. He looks vaguely familiar, you think you may have seen him in the elevator of your apartment once or twice.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, "Ik spreek niet veel Nederlands," Using one of the few Dutch phrases you knew to tell him you don't speak Dutch. You shake your head, kind of hoping he would get lost, not wanting to be bothered.

"Ah," He nods, "Do you speak English?"

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should lie, after all he was a stranger but something is telling you to tell him the truth.

"Yeah," You sniffle, attempting to remove any emotion from your face.

"Are you okay?" He asks again, this time you understand.

"I'm fine," You weren't exactly searching for a deep conversation about your current struggles in someone you didn't know.

"People who are fine don't usually sit outside their apartment building crying."

You bite your lip, contemplating engaging the kind stranger in what was ailing you at the moment. You sigh, having a feeling he would probably keep pestering you if you continued to insist you were feeling in a way you actually weren't.

"It's just my roommate-"

Two months after your first encounter with the blonde man at the bottom of the stairs, you were standing in front of a mirror, doing a final check of your outfit before going on your first date. You had learned his name was Joost, he was 21, and lived in an apartment two floors above you.

He was unimaginably kind, with a wit unparalleled by anyone you'd ever met before, and truthfully, he was very cute- so when he had initially asked you out, you couldn't get a "yes" out fast enough.

It seemed a little inconvenient, given that you only had one more month left in the Netherlands- but he knew this, and didn't necessarily seem like he had been looking for anything too serious. Besides, it would be nice for you to have a good connection with someone outside of the people you saw in your classes.

There's a knock at the door, and your feet are quick to start shuffling under you, you're practically running to go open it.

You stop for a moment as you get to the door, letting a deep breath fill your lungs to capacity, before letting it out, whipping the door open as you do so.

Joost is standing behind it, a smile plastered on his face, hands behind his back. He's dressed up, now that you thought about it, you never really saw him in anything other than a sweatshirt or t-shirt and some jeans. It was a pleasant change- a white button-up shirt and some dress pants even if both articles of clothing had been obviously wrinkled.

"Hey," He greets, removing his hands from where they rest behind him, revealing a bouquet of flowers in an outstretched arm, "These are for you- I didn't know what kind of flowers you liked so I sort of just guessed." He's unsure of himself, in an entirely endearing way. He was trying.

"For me?" You grin, "Aww, Joost!" You take the flowers from his hands, "Let me go find something to put these in."

A month later you're sitting on Joost's couch after what you assumed would be your last date together. Your study abroad program was ending in three days, and you'd be returning back home.

There is an air of sadness that surrounds you, one that you hadn't expected to feel- you'd only known the man for three months, yet somehow it felt like you were leaving someone you had known your whole life.

Gentle fingers grab onto your jaw, Joost is turning your head to force you to look at him.

"You know," He starts, "I've really been enjoying our time together."

"Me too," You agree, a small smile peaking onto your face, you try not to give way to the sadness you were feeling.

"And," He says, "Y/n, I really like you, and I think if I don't ask you now, I'm never going to get the chance to ever again."

"What?" You perk up, your heart suddenly beating much faster, your breathing quickens, unsure of what he's going to say next.

"Well- I- what I'm trying to say is, do you want to go out with me? Like- officially- like dating." His voice is trembling, you'd never seen him so anxious before.

"Joost I-" You sigh, the reality of your situation crashing into you harder than it had before, "I'm leaving soon- we'll be hours away, when am I going to see y-"

You're cut off by Joost's lips crashing into yours, your thoughts suddenly disappearing the second your lips connect. You're entirely overwhelmed with emotion, every wire in your brain is fried, this move was an utter surprise, up until this point your relationship had been entirely chaste; the furthest you'd gone was sharing a hug at the end of your dates. Still, you kiss him back, your hand finding its way to his shoulder, tugging at it, begging him to come closer to you.

It had been seven and a half months since you had last seen Joost, but the two of you had talked at length each and every day during that time. By now, you had finished your degree in University and were ready to really start your life.

You could remember the cheer of excitement on the other end of the phone when you told Joost after a month of job hunting you had secured a job in the Netherlands.

"Does that mean you're coming back here?"

"Yeah, the job starts at the end of next month ."

A month and a half didn't necessarily give you much time to plan things out to the extent you would have liked, but Joost was more than ready and willing to help you out.

He had posited moving into his apartment- but the suggestion while sweet- was quickly thrown out. It wouldn't have been an ideal commute to your new job.

So the two of you got on to looking elsewhere, he had been kind enough to take the time out of his days to go to apartment showings for you near where you'd be taking your job, keeping you on Facetime as he viewed the places.

Eventually, you had found one you absolutely fell in love with, in perfect distance from the job. The problem had been- it was quite a ways out of your budget. You were heartbroken, it had basically been your dream apartment.

Joost, always swift with solving problems, suggested that the two of you move into the apartment together, that way he could cover the rest of the rent that you couldn't afford. And while you were over the moon about his offer- you worried about what living together would do to your relationship, the two of you had known each other for less than a year- would living together be such a great idea?

But as you're standing in the doorway of your bedroom on the first night being in your new apartment, staring up at Joost, who's leaning against the door frame- you just know you made the right decision.

A careful hand glides across your cheek, resting at the back of your neck,

"Thank you for coming back," Joost muses, gently massaging the spot where his hand resides. You lean into his touch,

"There was no other option" There's an undeniable twinkle in your eyes, admiring the man who stood above you, tired and messy from a long day of moving.

"I've been waiting to tell you this in person," His grip on your neck suddenly becomes still, rigid, "And- even if you don't feel the same yet, I just wanted to say that I love you." He's talking fast, simpering after he finishes his short words before resuming the gentle massaging motion of his thumb against your neck.

The breath is almost entirely knocked out of you- he loves you.

The words just about run out of your mouth, "I love you too,"

"You do?" His pupils are blown wide, "You love me too?"

You nod fervently, never having meant a statement so immensely in your life.

Joost is leaning down now, his head tilted so his lips can perfectly interlock with yours. It is possibly the hungriest kiss the two of you had ever shared, with the obvious implication of love now behind it. If Joost hadn't snaked his free arm around your back, you probably would have fallen straight to the ground, your legs tingling with excitement.

He pulls away, looking into your mostly empty bedroom, a smirk appearing on his face,

"What do you say we christen that bed I spent all day putting together?"

Five years later you're still living in that same apartment, the once-empty space now fully decorated with beautiful memories.

And now, the most crystal-clear memory sparkled in your brain, almost as bright as the ring itself. You'd been crying in intervals since then- since it happened since - You replayed it in your head.

"Do you remember when we first met?" Joost's fingers interlock with yours as the two of you walk down a familiar street- You were unsure of why Joost had insisted on taking you here, to the town where you both had lived when you met.

"How could I ever forget?" You grin, "Feels like just yesterday I was crying to some strange Dutch boy about my roommate issues."

"And how you told me, you never wanted to see the Netherlands again?" His words are slow as he looks deeply into your eyes, glimmers of adoration shining from every feature on his face.

"God, I was so dramatic- wasn't I?" You look away from him, scoffing as you look down at the pavement, thinking about your old self, looking back on it- it was a stupid decision to let one person ruin almost two months of your life, but back then it seemed like the biggest deal in the world. "Funny" You shrug, "The decision I made to talk to you on the day I was most certain I was just going to pack up and leave forever led me to making the Netherlands my home." You shake your head, "I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't met you on that day, but I don't think there's a reality that exists where we aren't together."

"Don't make me cry," He chuckles.

"I mean- I don't mean to be all sappy, but it's true- if soulmates are real, I can guarantee you're mine."

He's grinning now, you'd been so lost in your thoughts you barely noticed where the two of you had ended up, back at your old apartment, right in front of those very steps the two of you had met on.

He's pulling you up the stairs, and needless to say you're confused about this trip down memory lane.

"I think it's only appropriate that I do this here," His voice is low, and he's blinking more rapidly than usual. His hand slips from yours, and falls into his pocket- you watch anxiously for his next move. There's something in his hand now, and he's slowly bending down onto one knee.

The tears start nearly immediately, before he says a single word, you're cupping your mouth with your hand

"Y/n," He looks up at you, through the lenses of his glasses you can see there are tears in his eyes too, "Wil je met me trouwen?" (will you marry me)

"Joost," You choke out a sob- "Yes, Yes!" Your whole body is full of a tingling sensation, and your heart feels like it occupies more space in your chest than it did before, swelling with an overwhelming amount of love.

Joost grabs your trembling hand, caressing it tenderly with his thumb before slipping on the ring. You let him hold your hand for a moment more before you're pulling it away, desperate to see. You outstretch your hand in front of you, looking at the glimmering stone that sits on your finger. A visual confirmation of what had just happened.

He's barely stood all the way up before you're reaching for him, knocking into him with an embrace so energetically that it nearly knocks him over. As he catches his balance he wraps his arms right back around you, pulling you into him.

If you were to have gotten any closer, the atoms that make up each of your bodies may have actually fused together. Though you wish you could, despite how you fully braced Joost's body it doesn't feel like enough you want him closer to you.

Still, you're so warm in his tight embrace, letting out choked tears of joy against his chest.

A gentle kiss falls on the top of your head, followed by your favorite words to hear out of Joost's mouth, "Ik hou van jou." (I love you)

You shut your eyes, basking in the moment, you could absolutely get used to hearing those words every day for the rest of your life.

/I'll love you 'til the day that I die / 'Til the light leaves my eyes/

[lucidloving]

I learned how to be quiet about pain when I was very young. I learned how to fold in on myself like laundry, to take up less space in the cupboard. I learned how to keep the peace around me by sweeping the dirt under my own rug.

I have been taught that expressing my less favourable emotions is just complaining—something weak people do when they're too incompetent to solve their own problems.

Incompetent. Incompetent. This word is very important to me. Incompetent is the word I am always running from. To run from incompetency means to run from feeling dejected, feeling lost, feeling hurt. To run from incompetency is to run towards goodness. To run towards a me who knows all the answers and shoulders all the burdens and shrugs off all the pain.

Some days I am not very good at this race I am running. Days when the past lurches forward to bite my ankles, or days when the future looks back to scorn my present.

On these days I am weak. The poise slips. It's all too easy to cry a little and vent my fears. I forget that I am supposed to be keeping all of this shut away where no one else can see. I forget that I am not supposed to be dragged down by these feelings in the first place.

Today I feigned nonchalance and I feigned it well. No one noticed that I was hurt by the thing that happened, and sitting alone in all my hurt, I was bitterly gratified. I had fulfilled the proper narrative of an animal who is injured and returns to its cave to lick its wounds only in private.

But there is a desperation for the hidden pain to be noticed. This is the Achilles' Heel of the whole stealth operation; it threatens the little play I have constructed in which I suffer alone and inconvenience no one and am all the stronger for it.

Today I stood upright to talk to my mother and doubled over in pain the moment she left the room. It is satisfying, knowing I did the valiant and honourable thing of keeping the damn pain to myself. It is infuriating, the way my eyes flickered to the door in the dark and private hope that she would come back in and witness me while I was down.

I want to be strong and hide all the hard things away. I want someone to see my efforts to hide all the hard things away and realise I'm strong. I want to bring to life this character I have created who suffers without complaint and is loved when the truth is revealed. Who suffers well.

This is the person who stores up agony to a breaking point, to justify the ultimate snapping of composure. This is the person who wants to be depended on relentlessly and one-sidedly, so that someone someday might notice the unfairness of it all. This is the person who virtuously and righteously take all the hits without a sound, so that when they finally, inevitably break, their pain will come to light all at once and inspire awe and guilt in equal measure.

Who am I, really? Is it terrible to want to play this character? Perhaps some old wound craves acknowledgement and understanding and doesn't know how else to ask for it except by hiding until it festers.

Strength. Competency. Resilience. Dependability. Independence. They have all become synonyms in my black and white dictionary. They have all become straws for the drowning man.

I self-impose silence. I take pleasure in denial and secrecy. I take pride in successfully keeping a problem to myself.

Pride. That's another important word. I think I have too much of it, although it pains me when others point it out. Pride implies I think highly of myself, which is something a good person should never do. Pride is so audaciously self-absorbed, so high-and-mighty, so filthy with ego. There's probably a lot of it in this damn thing I've written.

Pride is the other thing that keeps my mouth shut. The thing that says I should be austere, untouchable, immovable. Pride is the thing that says look here, you don't have a lot going for you so you better keep this mask on right if you want to be good. If you want to be admired.

These terrible things keep me safe. I can't let go of that stupidly noble character or that cowardly pride. I need them to shield me from the reality that I am emotional, not all that put together, and honestly hopeless most of the time.

I need to have something worth liking about myself. I need to have a grit that makes me undeniably good. I need to have a strength that goes unsung, that lies in wait of discovery.

What an exhausting way to live. But it's the only way I know.

[ahqkas]

♯ BACK TO THE OLD HOUSE ; mattheo riddle

❛ when you cycled by

here began all my dreams ❜

PAIRING! mattheo riddle x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! the countless nights he spends fighting over any sized inconveniences were getting to him. he didn’t even think about visiting the professional medic to patch his wounds, not when he had you (based on this req.!!)

WORD COUNT! 2.9k

WARNINGS AND TAGS! fighting, blood, angst + fluff, kissing, violence, rage filled + soft mattheo, slytherin reader, friends to lovers, lovesick idiots

NOTES! my man my man my man

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST!

TO MATTHEO RIDDLE, FIGHTING FELT LIKE A SECOND HOME. He could insert all of his rage and anger into the punches and kicks because it was required to do so. You wouldn't throw a good punch if you didn't put your emotions into the action and so that's exactly what he did. Fought with his emotions.

The courtyard was a peaceful place for the students of Hogwarts to relax for once, bringing a sense of peacefulness with its stone pathways and patches of greenery. The yard was often filled with laughter and conversations for everyone to hear. But on some days, you could hear more than the good nature of people. Curse words and spells casted at another, yells and shouts of anger. The same goes for violent actions. The sickening snaps of bones and emotional sounds from the audience that gathered around the ongoing fight was heard for miles away.

The same goes for today.

The joyful laughter quickly turned into terrifying shouts when a nearby fight broke out among the students in green robes. Slytherins fought the most. Mattheo Riddle fought the most.

A small group of onlookers had gathered around him and another boy, his robes the same green color to match Mattheo's. Their hushed whispers and excited yells were echoing through the halls, bringing even more attention to the crowd. Just exactly what they needed.

The other boy, Aaron Banks, stood with an arrogant smirk plastered on his face, his arms crossed as he stood chest to chest with Mattheo. A dangerous combination, considering that Mattheo's bad temper could handle only this much and Aaron's instincts for his own life weren't working like they should. This situation screamed trouble.

"You really think you're something special, don't you, Riddle?" Aaron sneered, his voice dripping with venom. "Just because of your name, you think you can walk around like you own the place."

Mattheo's eyes narrowed into a glare. If one looked deeply into his eyes, they would be able to see the dark storm brewing in their depths. "You don't know what you're talking about, Banks. Why don't you keep your mouth shut before you say something you'll regret?"

A mocking laugh escaped the other boy's throat, the sound harsh. "Oh, I think everyone knows exactly what I'm talking about. A Riddle will always be a Riddle. Trying to pretend you're better than the rest of us won't change that."

The crowd murmured among themselves, little jabs and comments about the two boys escaping from their lips. Bets were already in the making, money being thrown around like it meant nothing.

"Last warning, Banks. Walk away now," his jaw tightened, a muscle tickling in his cheek. He looked tense and if you looked close enough, you'd see his nails digging into the heel of his palm, trying to control his temper. He had promised to someone to do so.

"Or what? You'll run crying to daddy? Oh wait, you can't, can you?"

That was it. In an instant, all of the restraints Mattheo was trying to gain snapped away and he launched himself at Aaron Banks, who had a death wish in his eyes.

Mattheo's fist connected with Aaron's jaw in a bone-crushing punch. The audience could hear the sickening snap of a breaking bone and let out an empathic 'Oooh'. The boy's fate had already been written and no one would dare to stop the writer from his art work. They'd have a death wish as well. Aaron staggered back, more shocked than hurt at first, before he quickly recovered and his fists were flying toward another face.

The courtyard erupted into chaos of excitement and shouts of frustration as the two boys collided in a flurry of punches and shoves. Mattheo landed another hit to the boy's ribs, making him grunt in pain, which Aaron rewarded him with a swift uppercut that snapped Mattheo back.

Blood trickled from Mattheo's split lip, but he barely seemed to notice. With a snarl, he drove his shoulder to Aaron's chest, knocking them both to the ground. The two of them hit the floor hard and rolled across the cobblestones and grass.

"Fight! Fight!" some of the onlookers chanted, probably the ones who placed their money into a bet, their voices holding an edge of excitement as they watched the fight like muggleborns watched soccer matches on TV. Others tried calling for help, but their calls got lost in waves of noise.

Aaron managed to get on top, his fists raining down on Mattheo. A brutal punch on his cheek sent blood spraying on both his face and the ground beneath them, painting the green grass scarlet. With a burst of strength, Mattheo twisted around and reversed their positions, pinning Aaron beneath him. The Slytherin boy started landing a series of blows, each one hitting the blond harder and harder, with such a force it almost made his face look unrecognizable.

Aaron's nose finally cracked from the pressure Mattheo was punching with and blood gushed around his fingers as he tried to block the violence and shield his face. It didn't work.

"Had enough?"

"Stop! Both of you, stop this instant!" a voice boomed across the courtyard and the audience of students departed to make a way for the owner to walk through.

Professor McGonagall strode into the circle with her wand raised and eyes blazing with authority. The witch flickered her wand, and the boys were magically separated, levitating a few feet apart and struggling against the invisible force that held them. Mattheo was still seeping with rage, his eyes showing exactly what he wanted to do to the other boy.

"This is disgraceful!" her voice trembled with fury. "Both of you, to my office, now!"

Mattheo could see the few students that placed a bet on his behalf collecting galleons with a satisfied expressions on their faces.

The silence in Professor McGonagall's office was thick and oppressive, broken only by the ticking of an ancient clock on the wall. The room, usually a place quiet authority, now felt dangerous, like the eye of a storm. Mattheo Riddle and Aaron Banks stood before her desk, their faces bruised and swollen, their uniforms disheveled and splattered with blood.

Minerva McGonagall stood behind her desk, her expression a mask of controlled fury. Her eyes, sharp and unforgiving, darted between the two boys, assessing the damage and the simmering rage that still radiated from them.

"What, precisely, did you hope to achieve with this barbaric display?" McGonagall's voice was icy, each word clipped with disapproval. "Explain yourselves."

Aaron shifted uncomfortably, wiping at the blood still trickling from his nose before he spoke up first. "He started it, Professor," he muttered like a child, casting a resentful glance at Mattheo. "He couldn't handle a bit of teasing."

"A bit of teasing?" McGonagall's voice rose, incredulous. "You think this is acceptable behavior in response to teasing? Violence is never the answer, Mr. Banks. And you, Mr. Riddle, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Mattheo's jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on a point just above McGonagall's head. He refused to look at Aaron. "He insulted my family," he said quietly, but with a hard edge to his voice. "He went too far."

McGonagall's eyes softened, just a fraction, but her voice remained stern. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, not even herself, but the woman had a soft spot for the boy. "And you thought physical violence was the appropriate response? You are both old enough to know better. This kind of behavior is not tolerated at Hogwarts. We are a respected school, and such actions undermine everything we stand for."

She paused, letting her words sink in. The boys remained silent, their hostility now mingled with the sting of reprimand.

"What makes this even more disgraceful is that you're both members of Slytherin. Slytherin house values ambition, cunning, and resourcefulness. This situation not only reflects poorly on you but also on your house. You should be allies, supporting each other in your ambitions, not tearing each other down."

"You will both serve detention for the next month," McGonagall continued, her tone brooking no argument. "Every evening after classes, you will report to Mr. Filch. And you will write a letter of apology to each other. Not just a few lines, but a sincere apology. This kind of conduct must be addressed not just with punishment, but with understanding and reconciliation."

Aaron's face twisted in disgust, but he nodded. Mattheo, though still simmering with anger, gave a curt nod as well.

"Furthermore," McGonagall added, her eyes narrowing, "you will each receive fifty points deducted from your respective house. I hope this serves as a reminder of the consequences of your actions."

The silence that followed was heavy, both boys digesting the severity of their punishment. McGonagall's gaze softened slightly as she looked at them. "I understand that emotions can run high, especially with matters as personal as family. But you must learn to control yourselves, to find better ways to resolve conflicts. Violence only begets more violence."

The witch walked around her desk, standing closer to them. "You are both capable of better than this. I expect to see you prove that in the coming weeks."

With a final, stern look, she dismissed them. "You may go. Reflect on your actions and do better. Dismissed."

Mattheo and Aaron walked out of her office, the tension between them still palpable but now mingled with a grudging acknowledgment of the consequences they faced. The door closed behind them with a soft thud, leaving McGonagall in the quiet of her office, the ticking of the clock the only sound as she sighed, returning to her desk with the hope that the punishment would lead to some measure of understanding between the two boys.

Ignoring the sting of his split lip and the throbbing on his bruised jawline, Mattheo headed down the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, the destination clear in his mind. The logical choice would have been the infirmary, where Madam Pomfrey would undoubtedly patch him up with expert care, even if it meant hearing the scolding she'd have prepared. But Mattheo wanted something different - someone different. He needed to see you.

Mattheo wouldn't call himself desperate but he wasn't far from being just that if it involved you.

The Slytherin common room was quieter than usual, the murmur of hushed conversations about today's fight between their two housemates barely audible over the crackling fire. Mattheo slipped past the few students lounging on the green leather couches, their eyes following him with curiosity and whispers trailing after his steps. He ignored them like always, his focus solely on reaching your dormitory.

Reaching the door to the girls' dormitory, he hesitated for a moment, then knocked softly. His bloody knuckles rapped on the wood of the door, each tap sounding more quiet. What was the worst that could happen? The door creaked open to reveal you, your eyes widening as you took in his battered appearance.

"Mattheo, what happened to you?" you whispered urgently, taking in the bruises and cuts marring his face.

"I got into a bit of a disagreement," he said, downplaying the severity of the fight because he knows how much you worry about him. Which he doesn't deserve, he thinks silently.

Your eyes narrowed, a mix of concern and frustration flashing across your face at his behavior. Mattheo Riddle stood at the entrance of your dorm, bloodied and visibly in pain. "You should be in the infirmary," you exclaimed, the tone of your voice firm but gentle.

The dark haired Slytherin shook his head. "I'd rather you patched me up," he admitted, his tone softening. "Please."

Sighing, you stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. "Alright, come in," you immediately went to help him in, taking most of his weight with the way you slung his arm around your shoulders, closing the door quietly behind him. Your dormitory was cozy, the dim light from a few enchanted candles casting a warm glow over the room.

"Sit," you ordered, pointing to a bed that probably belonged to you. The giveaway was the single snake plush he gave you for Christmas in the third year. Mattheo obeyed with a pleasant feeling spreading across his chest, sinking into the bed with a groan as the adrenaline from the fight wore off, leaving him acutely aware of the pain coursing through his body like a lightning.

You rummaged through a small trunk at the foot of your bed, pulling out a vial of healing potion and some clean cloths. Dipping a cloth in the potion and gently dabbing at the cut on his lip, your touch was both tender and precise as your palm met the side of his face that wasn't hurt that badly.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" you muttered quietly, not meeting his eyes.

"I've been told," he replied with a smirk, though it quickly faded into a wince. "But Banks had it coming."

"Even so, you need to control your temper," your fingers working deftly to clean the blood from his face. "You're better than this."

Mattheo's lips stretched into a grin despite the pain, causing you to wince at the new blood that started to ooze out of a cut on his bottom lip. Without another word, you took his jaw into your hand and angled his face so you could examine and attend to his injuries better. Your thumb brushed against the forming bruise in a comforting manner as your eyes locked. Your irises, a shade of [colour], met the brown of his ones. The dim lighting of the lamp cast a glow on your face and Mattheo could see the highlighted concern etched into your brows.

You have never looked so beautiful in his eyes. He felt a warmth spread through him, the sight of you dulled the pain more effectively than any potion could.

"There," you said finally, stepping back to examine your work. "That should hold you until you can see Pomfrey."

His hand, almost of its own accord, moved to the small of your back to keep you close to him. The warmth of your skin under his fingertips was electrifying, the soft fabric of your shirt having ridden up slightly. Mattheo caressed the bare skin there, his touch both gentle and hesitant, as if afraid to break the spell between you. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, your eyes widening just a fraction, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you leaned into his touch, your own hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

He could be tough and rough around the edges, but he found himself melting in your presence.

The proximity was intoxicating. Mattheo could see the faint freckles across your nose, the way your eyelashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks. He could feel your warmth seeping into him, a contrast to the cold reality of the world that brewed outside this moment. The world was dark out there, but he felt safe in your arms.

"[Name]," he murmured, his voice barely more than a whisper, laced with a vulnerability he rarely showed, even in your presence. Your name felt like a plea, a confession, and a promise all at once.

You swallowed hard, your gaze flickering down to his lips for just a moment before meeting his eyes again. The tension between you was palpable, a taut string that could snap at any moment. His thumb traced small circles on your back, the simple motion sending shivers down your spine as he gazed up at you with those big brown eyes of his, his breath intertwining with yours. Mere inches kept you apart and he looked at you as if you've hung the moon on the dark sky and brought the stars with your heavenly beauty.

"Mattheo," you whispered back, voice trembling slightly. The sound of his name on your lips sent a jolt of desire through him, making it even harder to think clearly. Although, he couldn't think straight already.

Your breaths mingled in the small space that separated you, and Mattheo felt a pull, an almost irresistible urge to close the distance, to bridge the gap that had always seemed so close yet so far away. And so he did.

His hands, resting on the small of your back, pressed into you, urging you even nearer until you stood flushed between his legs.

Your hands, previously light on his chest, tightened their grip as you felt the heat radiating from his body. Your fingers trailed up to his face, where you angled his head slightly, silently urging him to meet your lips. Mattheo obliged, his heart pounding in both nervousness and excitement. Lord knows how long he wanted to do this.

With a surge of courage, Mattheo closed the remaining distance, capturing your lips in a tender yet passionate kiss. It was like a spark igniting between you, a rush of emotions and longing finally being released. The kiss deepened, fueled by years of unspoken feelings and the intensity of the moment.

Mattheo's hands, now fully embracing you, held you close as if afraid you might slip away once he let go. You responded in kind, fingers tangling in his dark curl, anchoring him to you as he touched you nothing but love and passion.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world around you fading into insignificance. In that moment, there was only Mattheo and you, nothing mattered anymore. Not any stupid fight. Not any family problems. Just you two.

For in each other's arms, you had found love, love that would carry you through the darkest of times and cherish the brightest of eternity.

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified.

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x single mom!reader

Summary: When you go to steal a silver case from the Twins, they quickly realize you're under duress.

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: protective!tangerine, mentions of coercion and kidnapping, cursing, crying

~ @kpopgirlbtssvt hi lovie!! here it is! hope you like it xx ~

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

* ~ *

April, your almost one-year-old, is currently tucked in your arms as you try to console her.

She won't calm down and you've been assuming the train's lights are too shiny for her small eyes since she's been inconsolable for the last hour. "Honey, shh," you try again, caressing her round cheeks.

"Hello." Your thoughts are interrupted by a calm voice as a young girl sits in front of you. Her short brown hair is cut neatly into a bob and she's wearing a pink shirt and skirt. She looks well-groomed. "Your baby is adorable," she comments, glancing at April. 

"Thank you," you say, smiling as you bounce April on your lap now—the movement calming her a little as her cries turn into small breathy babbling sounds.

After a moment, the girl continues. "I am terribly sorry to inconvenience you, but have you seen a silver case somewhere around here? My Uncle seems to have misplaced it," the girl's smile falters as if looking for sympathy, "It's very important to me," she finishes, her eyebrows creasing as her lips downturn into a pout.

You shake your head.

She urges you, "Could you perhaps help me look then?" She leans in closer as she runs her hand under April's chin, her demeanor more insistent now. 

Your smile falters and you turn April away, your hand on her back, as your motherly instincts kick in. Something is wrong. "I'm so sorry. I would help only," you begin, holding April closer. 

Your answer is interrupted as the girl scowls, "I'll pay you," she says.

Pay you? Your mind races as you wonder why this girl would pay you for your help. What's in this case that warrants such attention? Once you shake your head again, the girl's calm energy vanishes. 

"Well, this is a shame, hmm?" her tone suddenly shifts and she smiles cruelly as she crosses her legs. The table that's separating you and her comes in handy as it hides the weapon she produces and presses against your knee.

She angles the gun upwards and you tense your arms around April, holding her even closer. April squirms, sensing your worry. 

"Please," you whisper, looking around the train. None of the other passengers seem preoccupied by your predicament. They aren't even looking in your direction.

You want to scream, but you have a feeling if you do so, this girl wouldn't hesitate to pull the trigger. "Please don't hurt my baby," you say, fear settling inside you.

The girl tilts her head and chuckles. She taps the gun on your knee, making you flinch. "Hmm, you see, you're just the girl for this. Men underestimate girls like us—

They'll never see you coming—a vulnerable little thing like you, with something so precious to lose—you would do anything for your baby, would you?" She smiles at April. 

"Please," you sound like a broken record, "what do you want from me?"

"Is your baby's daddy around?"

You want to lie but you're too scared so you shake your head. 

"Pff, men—bastards, hmm?" The girl laughs and then she turns serious. "Now listen closely, if you don't want me to blow you and your baby to bits, you'll do exactly as I say," she pauses and her smirk turns sinister,

"Understand?" 

* * *

You feel like you're in a trance as your shaky hands hold the gun behind you. You walk into the train car, looking for the men the girl had insisted took her case from her.

You feel a little exposed as the buttons from your chemise have been slightly unbuttoned to reveal your bra and the girl had made you let down your hair. 

Go for the sex appeal and you'll have men at your feet, she'd promised.

However, you don't care how stupid you look. All you care about is April. April, who the girl has promised you she wouldn't harm if you did as you were told. April, who had started to scream again when you'd placed her in the seat next to the cruel stranger and who had continued to cry as you disappeared from her view.

Your poor baby.

You try not to cry now. You don't want your mascara to run and ruin your cover. You hold your head up, glancing at all the passengers as you walk by. 

Twins. You were looking for Twins—that should be easy enough. 

You walk slower, only catching fragments of conversations, until suddenly you walk by two men.

One is adjusting his stripped blue vest, his brown hair messy and his face smeared in bruises and blood.

The other, who looks nothing like the first, is holding onto a silver case. Your breath hitches when you hear the man exclaim, "Some fucker had this in his arms when I bumped into 'im—what are the odds, huh? Maybe it is our lucky day, bruv!"

You pause. They don't look like Twins, but in all honesty that means nothing—they have the case.

You take a breath and shut your eyes, turning around and hiding the gun in the flow of your skirt. You walk up to them, your eyes landing on your target as you 'accidentally' trip and fall onto the man in blue's lap.

"What the fuck?!" The man exclaims. It's an honest reaction to some random girl falling onto you. His British accent is thick and your cheeks burn as you stare into his blue eyes. Suddenly, your entire ruse threatens to crumble as your hands shake. You try to shift and press the gun to the man's stomach—like you'd been told.

April, think of April.

"She has a gun," the other man whisper-shouts and this sets the man you'd landed on into action as he hastily grabs your wrists, his other hand gripping at your waist as he shoves you off of him and corners you in the other seat, you back pressed to the wall as he twists your hand.

You yelp in pain, dropping the gun as your tears now fall freely. You squeeze your eyes shut, expecting a blow or a hit of some kind as your chest heaves.

None come.

"Her hand is trembling, Lemon." You hear and hesitantly open your eyes. The man holding your wrist has turned to his friend, Lemon, and is showing him the shake in your hand.

Lemon looks you over and settles in his seat again. "Poor bird's shakin' in general," he points out, confusion evident in his voice.

The first man tugs on your arm to pull your eyes to him. You look up, body still pressed up against the window as one of your legs dangles from the seat and off his thighs.

You don't dare move as the man looks like he wants to kill you. "What are ya doin' with this," he snarls, shaking the gun to scare you but then he hands it to his friend. "Who the fuck are ya? Some fuckin' hooker tryin' to play assassin?" He looks you up and down in your little outfit and you feel humiliated.

You shake your head. Assassin. The word rings in your ear. "I'm sorry," you cry breathlessly, "Please. I'm so sorry, please—she has my baby,"

You're a sobbing mess at this point, your voice trembling and hoarse. "She has my baby-"

Lemon speaks up when the man doesn't loosen his grip on your wrist. "Tangerine," he hisses, "she's sobbing. Something's wrong, mate."

Tangerine looks at Lemon sternly and then turns his attention back to you. You feel the tears spill down your cheeks as he stares and then he drops your wrist.

In an instant, you scramble to press yourself further against the wall and sit normally. You hastily button up your shirt, sex appeal be damned. 

"Someone put ya up to this, didn't they?" Tangerine asks, his eyes softening just a little as he calms himself down. "Does someone have your baby?" he is trying to make sense of the word vomit that had just happened. 

"Yes, s-she took my baby. I- I don't know what to do anymore. Please don't hurt me," you plead. Tangerine's eyebrows furrow. He looks at Lemon and they seem to have a conversation—or perhaps an argument—with their eyes. 

"Lemon, my brother," Tangerine says after a moment, Lemon's lips curving as he clearly won whatever had just happened between them,

"And I'm Tangerine," he looks you up and down again. "We aren't gonna hurt ya, darlin'. Promise," he says as he runs a hand in his hair and then down his jaw, "And we're gonna help you find your baby, okay? No need to worry." 

You stare at him, you have no desire to question their weird names as you are still a little afraid of them, but you nod anyway. They're your only chance of saving April from the hands of the cruel girl. You tell them your name. You have to trust them.

So, you find yourself in the train bathroom, Tangerine hooking something to your ear. His hands work through your hair as he connects the earpiece to the one in his ear. He looks so concentrated and you can't help but stare at him. 

He's handsome.

"I'll be able to hear ya through this, ok?" Tangerine's voice cuts your thoughts and you nod at him. You must still look scared because he adds, "Lemon and I will be around the corner, all ya need is to distract her so she doesn't see us coming, understand?"

You nod again and Tangerine's eyebrow raises. He wants to hear you.

"I understand—thank you," you say, voice still trembling. This earns you a smirk and one last check to your earpiece as his fingertips skim the skin around your ear. He looks into your eyes as he hides the device behind your hair.  

"Good girl," he whispers and the words roll off his tongue naturally. They take you by surprise as your heart leaps in your chest. Tangerine clears his throat, not giving you the chance to dwell on them as he opens the bathroom door and sends Lemon a nod to follow you. 

You try to keep up the appearance of confidence as you walk back to your original seat, the case in your hand. You've been playing the story in your head; They'd left it unattended. I took it from their seats. You don't know if that sounds convincing.

You check behind you subtly and see that the Twins have stayed in the room between the compartments and are waiting for you to distract the girl. You let out a scared breath that Tangerine must hear because his voice echoes in your ear. 

You'll be fine. We're right behind you. 

When you see the girl, her back is turned to you, and you see April's small legs hanging from the seat as she sits in the girl's lap. Your heart is pounding as you make your way to them.

April seems overjoyed to see you and your heart breaks when you see the tears-stains on your baby's face. Your expression hardens as you put the case on the table and sit in front of the girl. 

"Ah, you found it," the girl smiles, caressing April's hair. "You know, we don't compliment mothers enough. Your baby would not stop screaming—it was becoming annoying. The little rascal did tired himself out eventually because he almost fell asleep."  

"She. Her name is April," you say without thinking, jaw clenched. "I did what you asked, can I have my daughter back now?"

The girl looks down at the case but shakes her head, "Mm, no. You may not. I still need your help. Come with me," the girl smirks and stands. She is still holding April in her arms and your breathing has become heavy. You try not to make any expression at all when you see Tangerine and Lemon stealthily approach the girl from behind. 

You hear her surprised gasp as Tangerine grips her arm and you assume he presses his gun to her lower back because she suddenly tenses.

"Hand her the baby, now," he says in a throaty whisper. He isn't asking. The girl frowns and her hand clenches around April for a moment.

With the commotion, April wails and without hesitation—and the security that Tangerine won't let this girl harm you—you swoop in and cradle April in your arms. 

"Shh, shh, it's okay. Mommy's here, my love," you whisper into April's head as tears freely escape your eyes once again. Tangerine's gun is still pressed to the girl's back as Lemon swoops in and takes the case once more.

You're too busy with April to hear their conversation and eventually, Lemon grabs the girl and ushers her away. 

Tangerine remains, his eyes unusually soft as he observes you and April. He walks closer, but not too close. He doesn't want to scare April—he tends to scare babies, especially when he's as disheveled as he is now. 

You see him and instantly you walk to him and, holding April with one arm, you wrap the other one around his shoulder as you lean up to kiss his cheek. You seem less terrified now that you have your baby and Tangerine's cheeks flush as he feels your lips against his skin.

He doesn't pull away from you. 

"Thank you," you say, your hand sliding down his cheek, lingering there for a moment too long, and then you back away. "I can't ever thank you and Lemon enough," you bounce April on your hip and she giggles. She stares at Tangerine and suddenly reaches out to him with her small hand. 

Tangerine's eyes widen and he looks at you for permission. You nod.

He reaches out and April holds out her small hand to wrap around his finger. She makes a small giggling sound again as she babbles—"She's saying thank you too," you beam in amusement, kissing April's temple. 

"She's absolutely beautiful," Tangerine says, smiling fondly. You grin, your attention fully on your daughter, that you haven't noticed the way Tangerine's blue eyes stay locked onto yours as he says the words. 

April drops Tangerine's hand and you hold her tightly. "Can Lemon and I help ya find your way off this train, luv? Ya do have somewhere safe to go, right?" Tangerine asks plainly, feeling weirdly protective over you and the little baby in your arms. 

You think for a moment, still breathless from what had happened. This train doesn't feel safe anymore. You feel so out of your depth. You were supposed to visit some friends, but you'd missed your stop, and anyways none of that matters anymore.

You'd almost lost April and if you hadn't met them—you gaze at Tangerine—you don't know what you would have done to save her. 

You shake your head and Tangerine's eyes narrow. "Well, that's a problem, innit?" he says and runs a hand in his hair. He stands tall, glancing over his shoulder to see if Lemon's finished taking care of the girl who'd threatened you and April. 

"You wanna stay with us?" Tangerine asks calmly, looking into your eyes. "Lem and I are gettin' off now. We have what we wanted, and we ain't gonna stick around this train to find out what happens if we do. Come with us. We'll keep you and April safe. Promise." 

Although his words feel like a pretty, empty, shiny promise, you accept them anyway. You don't have many choices at the moment and Lemon and Tangerine tell you they have what they call a safe house in the area, which sounds better than a cheap motel.  

* * *

However, a week later, you still haven't left said safe house. 

Lemon had explained that it wasn't safe to travel yet, that he and Tangerine needed more time to settle their affairs before they could easily travel again—especially with April around now. You don't know what that means, only that Lemon and Tangerine often come back from their "affairs" bloodied and bruised. 

You'd just finished cleaning Lemon's head wound when you hear April giggling from her play mat in the middle of the living room.

Lemon stands from the couch, his grin widening as he exclaims, "My turn to watch the lil' angel! Tan needs his abdomen wound checked anyway," Lemon wastes no time in sitting next to April and showing her the Thomas The Tank Engine figurine he'd gotten her. 

You smile and move towards where Tangerine sits in the armchair in the corner. You turn to him and your eyes widen a little. You're thankful for all the months you spent in medical school before you became pregnant with April because Tangerine looks awful.

His left eye is swollen shut, he has blood dripping from his lip, and he's lifting his shirt for you to look at the deep—while still not deep enough to need stitches—gash near his ribs (which is also black and blue from bruising). He isn't looking at you, a faint tint of pink adorning his cheeks. 

"Does it hurt?" you whisper, crouching down and rummaging in the first aid kit on the ground. 

"Hmm," Tangerine hums, still refusing to look at you. 

It must hurt him because he flinches when you apply some alcohol to the wound and bandage him up. You try to ignore that you're touching his chest, or how his skin feels under your hands. It feels entirely inappropriate to ogle your wounded patient. 

Again, good thing you never actually became a nurse.

"So, you're a nurse?" Tangerine suddenly grunts, looking at you with lidded eyes as you move up to inspect how badly his eye is hurt. 

You shake your head, smiling. "No. April came around in the middle of medical school and I had to drop out," you smile and prod at his cheek, earning a wince and you mumble a small "sorry."

"Ya still know what you're doin', yeah?" Tangerine raises his eyebrow in question and winces again, which makes you chuckle. You apply some ointment to his eye. 

"I paid attention in class, yes. I probably couldn't operate on you, but I can mend your black eye," you tease. Tangerine stares at you and he smirks. 

"Good," he looks behind you and after a moment, "Lemon stole your baby," he deadpans.

You turn and see that Lemon must have taken April to the room the Twins had designated as hers. On the first night of your arrival, the Twins had gone all out and purchased all sorts of essentials for children and women. It was unexpected and sweet of them—so incredibly sweet. 

"She'll be fine," you laugh and then turn to Tangerine again. He's giving you that look; the one he's been giving you for the last day or two.

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest. "You know, don't tell Lemon, but you're April's favorite," you say as you clean up the materials you had used on his wounds. 

"I am?" Tangerine asks, looking genuinely surprised. 

"Yeah," you nod, "she's starting to babble something that sounds awfully similar to 'Tan'." 

"Ah," Tangerine seems happy by this development and you smile. There is a moment of silence as you watch him. You're still kneeling next to him and his shirt is still half-bunched up around his torso. Your chest tightens and you hear Tangerine swallow. 

"Is April's dad—" he starts and you finish for him, 

"In the picture?" 

A pause. Tangerine nods and you shake your head. "Nah," you shrug, "Left as soon as he heard I was pregnant. He wanted to continue medical school without any complications. He's probably some fancy doctor or some shit by now, I wouldn't know. I don't talk to him anymore."

"Dickhead," you hear Tangerine suddenly grumble, and then his hand finds your chin. He lifts your head and his eyes lock with yours. "He's a fool for leavin' ya. He doesn' know what he's missing," he says as his thumb caresses your lower lip. "Ya understand? He's a fool."

You nod, entranced as your heart continues to panic in your chest. When Tangerine finally drops your chin, you clear your throat and stand.

He stands too and walks closer, his hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear, "Ya don't need to worry anymore, darlin'. Lem and I won't let anyone harm you or April. I won't let 'em touch a single hair on your pretty head," he breathes, his voice stern, and you feel his lips against your cheek for a fleeting moment until he moves and disappear upstairs. 

You're left standing in the living room, your heart pounding as you replay every word he'd said. Your skin feels warm and clammy. 

What have you gotten yourself into now?

[luvfy0dor]

“Please Don't Cry ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; crying, Nikolais kinda an asshole

Description; The BSD men seeing you cry, whether it's their fault or not

A/n; hi guys :333 one more request until they're all finished!! It only took me 6 months to do what, 11? 12? I don't know, I'm really slow when it comes to reqs, so I'm sorry it took so long!! I've also decided not to change to a gray theme cuz I don't wanna feel like I'm copying anyone, maybe one day though!!

Osamu Dazai ★

• It's probably his fault in most cases, but for this scenario we'll assume it isn't. Your day has just progressively gotten worse, and you were at the point where any minor inconvenience or annoyance would set you off and make you cry.

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You pushed open the door to your apartment that you shared with your boyfriend, bags in your hands ready to rip from the weight of the groceries inside. You huff and kick the door shut behind you, annoyed when it doesn't fully close and requires you to kick it one more time. You carry the bags to the kitchen counter and set them down rather aggressively, not minding the strength you put into roughly placing them on the surface while you turn to put them away and wait for your boyfriend to arrive home from work for once. You sigh with a hand on your hip and the other on your forehead, opening the fridge and observing your current minimal amount of food and get to stocking up. A few things make it into the fridge before you hear the door open again and your boyfriend call out to you. "Y/n? Home?" A hum erupts from your throat in response and he quickly makes his way to you, following the sound of your voice. "Hey, babe, how was your day?" He asks, grabbing a head of lettuce to hand to you. "Terrible, 'Samu, nothing tragic happened but like, all the little things, you know?" You say, shoving the head of lettuce into one of the bottom drawers of the refrigerator. He reaches over to grab the milk, but realized that the half-gallon wasn't completely full, and upon further investigation (lifting the jug up), he realized that the plastic had broken and milk was spilling out into the plastic bags, onto the counter, and down onto the floor.

"Oh, the milk broke." He says, taking a large, exaggerated step past you and over the milk to bring the half-gallon to the sink. You straighten your posture and stand up straight, head swiveling towards the counter with whiplash inducing speed. You felt your throat close up, making you unable to say anything in response. Before you knew it, your shoulders started shaking and your tears quickly followed that motion. You whimpered quietly into the palms of your hands which attracted Dazais attention again over the milk. "Aw, don't cry over spilled milk now!" He jokes, but when you give him an agitated glare and open your mouth to defend yourself, he switches up and pulls you in for a hug. "No, I was just joking, but it's okay! There's nothing to cry about, we can get more milk. Do you have any idea how it coulda happened?" He asks you, stroking your back. "M-might've put the bag down to roughly.." you say, sniffling and wiping your tears from your face. He gives a pitiful frown and kisses your cheek quickly.

"Well that just means you're too strong for your own good! Oo, see I knew there was a reason why I had to clarify I was joking, you could've broken my neck if I didn't." He playfully says, trying to cheer your up a little bit. You let out a shaky sigh and nod. "Yeah...I guess. We can go without milk for tonight, I'll get some more for tomorrow." You grab some paper towels from the roll on the counter and start cleaning up all the milk. He nods in agreement and pulls you into his body, pressing a kiss to your forehead and squeezing your shoulder. "Yeah, we'll live. We should get take out for dinner, I don't think either of us are really in the mood to cook." A little bit of weight is lifted off your shoulders, one less responsibility for tonight. "Okay, Chinese?" he nods and smiles. "Yeah. I'll call right now, you want your usual, right?" He asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You hum against his chest, ready to knock out and take a nap. His words blurred together as you felt yourself slipping into sleep, but with that you also felt great amounts of gratitude for your boyfriend for making you feel just a little better. Or maybe you just needed to cry a little, who knows.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Chuuya is no stranger to annoying co-workers and tiring missions, often wearing him down through the day, but sometimes he's unintentionally snappy. Don't worry, he's always quick to make it up to you.

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Throughout the day, the texts between yourself and Chuuya had indicated that Chuuya was having a rather troublesome day, especially because of the frequent complaints followed by the facepalm emoji. You decided that you'd kick back with Chuuya and relax, opening a new bottle of one of his favorite wines and maybe giving him a back massage or something to relieve his stress. You eagerly awaited that familiar sound of his key in the door, and when you finally heard it, you stood up from your seat. In walked Chuuya, his appearance a little roughed up. He hung up his coat and hat without a word or glance to you, walking right passed you into the kitchen. 'That was kinda rude.' You thought to yourself, but you knew Chuuyas job was stressful and sometimes overwhelming, so you let him walk off on his own for a while. You knew where he was going and it didn't concern you, just to the balcony for a cigarette. You crossed your arms over you chest, hoping that he'd come back in a bit of a better mood. You turned on the TV and occupied yourself with that for a little bit before his familiar, light footsteps were heard coming back into the house. "Chuuya?" You called out to him. You could hear his loud sigh. "Yes?" His tone of voice was clearly agitated and disgruntled.

You were taken aback by how clear it was that he didn't want to talk to you right now, and you knew it wasn't personal, but you couldn't help but be saddened over it. "Are you alright-" you go to ask, but he quickly cuts you off. "Yes, I'm fine, y/n, just leave me alone. God..." His words were followed by the bedroom door closing. You were stunned. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before you had to close it to swallow the shock that closed your throat up. After prying your eyes away from the closed door, you averted your gaze to your feet, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You felt bad for crying, but what could you do? All you wanted was to make him feel a little better and he wouldn't even give you the chance to. He chose to take some alone time instead, which you didn't mind, but he didn't have to be so mean about it. You went into your hands, some of the tears falling through the cracks in your fingers and silently onto the floor. Your sobs became louder and audible to Chuuya, who laid face first on the bed. He felt a bit guilty too, he never once asked how your day was and for all he knew, your day could have been just as bad as his. He knew you only had good intentions, and he didn't need to shove you off like that.

He sighed and got out of bed, opening the door gently instead of swinging it open and walked into the living room again, frowning at the sight of you. "I'm sorry, doll, y'know I didn't mean it..." He whispered quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look into his eyes, seeing the apologetic expression that painted his face. "Yeah, I know, but you didn't have to be so mean about it." He sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Yeah, I know, that was a dumb move. I just wanted some alone time, ill be better about it next time though, I promise." He says, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. "Wanna tell me 'bout your day?" He asks, looking over at you. "Thank you. It wasn't terrible, just bland and regular." You tell him, erupting a hum of understanding from him. "I can only assume you already know I had a rough day." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm real sorry though." The smile from his laugh turns into a more neutral one, almost a faint frown. "It's fine, just don't let it happen again, I don't like it when you're annoying like that." You punch his shoulder playfully. He groans in response, laughing as he stands up. "I won't, promise." He says, tilting your head backwards to kiss your lips. "I do still want that alone time, though, so I'll see you in a little bit, alright?" You nod in understanding. "Alright." He walked back into the room, giving himself some time to do nothing more than exist. He didn't sleep and he didn't think, just existed. You stayed on the couch, waiting for him to return with open arms, happy to see him giving himself personal time instead of forcing himself to be around people, even if it was yourself. Everyone needs a break sometimes, and Chuuya was grateful that you understood.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor came home to you, and that was enough to make you sob your eyes out. Happy tears, ofcourse, but your days had been riddled with anxiety since he left. He knew you'd feel that way, and he was fully prepared to open his arms to you again with that faint smile.

ೃ⁀➷

You watched the helicopter land on the helipad with your heart pounding in your throat. Your fingers fiddled with the collar and fabric of your shirt as you waited for the propellers to come to a full halt and your lover to step off. Leaves, gravel, and dust alike all blew around your feet as the blades finally slowed and your boyfriend came into view. Your body tensed and almost started moving towards him on its own, but your anxiety stopped it, keeping you in your place. Your eyes scanned over his intact body and granted you a sense of relief when you saw no visible large injuries. He took notice of you and gave a small wave, walking towards you with a steady pace. You couldn't stop it anymore and all of a sudden you were moving towards him at an increasing speed. Before you knew it, your arms were once in their familiar spot around his torso and he was quietly chuckling. He ran one hand up and down your back and kissed your forehead. "Someone's excited." You nodded, feeling your tears falling down your face. It wasn't until he got a better look at your face that he noticed you were crying, and his smile widened. "You missed me that much, Myshka?" He says, tilting your head upwards to look at him.

"Obviously! You knew I would." You huff, sniffling and wiping your tears off of your cheeks, but they just kept on flowing. He laughs at you and pulls you back into the hug. "Well i'm home now, and you don't have to worry about me anymore. For now, atleast." Now he's already got you stressing over his next leave, but luckily you're able to push it away from your head in the moment and be grateful to breathe in his familiar scent again. You felt him place a hand on your head and exhale, his heartbeat being your favorite sound next to his voice. The feeling of his hands on your body was easily #1 in the category of touch, and his appearance was, to you, the very best sight. And his kisses, his lips, were by far the best taste. It had been so long until you felt his lips on yours, so you went for it again, cupping his face with your right hand and pulling him into you. He hummed and kissed you back, rubbing your hip with his thumb. When you pulled away, his face was pinker than before and his breathing unsteady. He swallowed before speaking. "Everytime I come back to you it's like adding gasoline to the bonfire that is my love for you." He says, looking into your eyes.

You couldn't help but find his words as silly as they were romantic and pulled him in for another brief peck. "You talk so formally all the time, it makes me giggle." You tell him, caressing his pale pink lips with your thumb. "It's better than the things I say that make you cry, yes?" He had a point. "Very true." He grabbed your hand and held it in his own while leading you away from the helicopter and to your car, more than ready to go home. "Your face is still wet from your tears." He whispers, wiping the remaining dampness from your cheeks with a smile. "Much better." You blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad you're finally back to wipe my tears for me." You tease. "Was a workout doing it all by my lonesome." He laughs at your remark and 'tsks'. "Well then maybe you should get more active or stop crying so much." He replies, a smug grin on his face. "Says you, the only arm movement I ever see you getting in is moving the mouse of a keyboard around." He shakes his head. "That's very untrue, you see me using my arms for other things rather frequently, actually." He insists. The sun shone down on his raven hair and gave him a halo-like highlight. How unfitting to the rest of the world, but sensible to you. "Fine, I guess so." You leaned your head on his shoulder as you continued to walk, finally liberated from the depression and anxiety that overcame you when he had left all that time ago.

Nikolai Gogol ★

• Nikolai doesn't mean to hurt your feelings with his teasing and jokes, but when you trip and fall face first into the pavement in front of a bunch of people and all he does is laugh with them, you can't help but cry out of embarrassment.

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You walked along a sidewalk with your boyfriend, one hand holding his and the other holding a coffee. Your conversation was filled with mindless chatter as your stride stayed at a steady speed. Your eyes were flickering between him and the pavement in front of you as you were careful to watch where you were going. You saw the feet of many people walking passed you both, avoiding the states they were bound to give you and your clownish boyfriend. Something astonishing must have come out of Nikolais mouth at a point though, because you've never turned your head so fast to look at him and stare for long enough to not notice the tree roots that poked out of the ground far enough to trip you and land you right on your face with both coffee and dirt all over your shirt. All falls silent for a moment before you start hearing snickers and then the outrageously loud cackle of your boyfriend.

You pushed your body up off the ground, clearly embarrassed over the whole thing and shot a glare at Nikolai. "Really? You're just gonna stand there and laugh?" Your cheeks were hot and your heart heavy with both annoyance and fluster. "I'm sorry, dove, it was just so funny! That stains gonna take awhile to come out, though." He says, pointing out the big splatter of coffee on your light colored top. You can't help but scoff. "It was so funny that you couldn't even help me up?" He nods, exhaling audibly and wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. "But ofcourse! If I wasn't paralyzed by my laughter than I would have been the first to help you." He started walking back home along the paved path with you, going to grab your hand but furrowing his eyebrows when you snatch it away. He looks up to your face with an exasperated frown. "Oh, don't tell me that made you cry." You just sniffle and huff, letting your tears drip from your waterline. "Come on, don't be such a baby. It's just a material item, I can always get you a new one." He says, referring to the shirt. Your expression is one of confusion before you snap out of it and correct him. "It's not that, it's the fact that you just let me trip, fall, and spill coffee all over myself and let everyone laugh at me! You even laughed with them! That's so rude." You say, trying to cover the stain to no avail.

He blinks. "Oh. Well, I told you I would have if I wasn't laughing- I thought we were like that, we laugh when the other falls, you know?" He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, but not in front of other people." You say, chewing on the inside of your lip. "That was....oh my god, I'll never erase that from my memory." You say, still completely overtaken by embarrassment. He bites his cheek and grabs your hand before reaching over to wipe your tears from your cheeks. "I'm sorry." He tells you, leaning his head on yours. "It wasn't ever with ill intention, darling. We'll go home and I'll get you changed out of that ruined shirt and whatever it takes to make you smile again." He says, smiling and opening his portal to whisk the two of you away. Soon enough you were standing back in your living room with a new shirt already in hand. "See how quick that was? Can I take this off for you?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your ruined shirt. You sigh and speak. "I can take it off on my own, thank you very much." You roll your eyes and pull it off, but it's quickly replaced with the new one. He laughs for a moment at your discombobulated expression, but the noise quickly quiets. "I really am sorry, sweetcheeks." He says, leaning in to rub your noses together. You peck his lips and brush his hair from his face. "It's fine, but don't be doing nothin' like that again. That was so embarrassing." You say, averting your eyes. He hums. "Alright, as long as my dove forgives me!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug, happy with your decision to forgive him.

A/n; dawg I'm writing this in the tj Maxx bro forgive me if it sucks lol

[undreaming-fanfiction]

As a crazy cat lady, may I offfer...

Eddie who has always loved cats, how free and soft and elegant they are, how they purr and close their eyes in affection, how they make him forget all his worries and stress. He's loved them ever since a neighbor's cat found him crying behind the trailer after he got bullied for his new haircut, the last gift from his shitty dad before Eddie got whisked away by the social services. The cat ignored his sniffling and jumped in his lap, plopping herself over the bony knees and thin thighs, and when she started rubbing her face against his scraped palm, Eddie felt complete.

He can't adopt one yet because he lives with Wayne who is allergic. Wayne offers to take antihistamines but Eddie refuses, he doesn't want to inconvenience him in his own home. Still, he dreams of one day sometime in the future, a small apartment of his own and at least two cats who will greet him when he comes home.

Eddie finds himself volunteering in a shelter and when a new cat café opens, he jumps at the opportunity. He is hired and spends his days taking of their cat ensemble and preparing delicious coffees. Cats help him be less jittery and more grounded, so it's a win win. Eddie loves this job.

Enter Steve Harrington, an insanely handsome man who stops by to make a reservation. Eddie is his usual flirty self, although he expects Steve will bring a date and that's the end of that. But then Steve leans to Eddie and asks: "Listen, uh...I will need some help."

Suppressing an internal groan, Eddie asks: "what, do you need me to drop an engagement ring into the coffee or something? Because can do, but it needs to be sanitized first."

"Oh no. Not that, no..." Steve runs his fingers through his hair and even though it looks like a nervous gesture, Eddie is seconds away from a cuteness induced nosebleed. "Not at all. I just...I have a little sister, you know? I mean, my adoptive dad is fostering her and she's the kindest girl you've met, but she had it rough in her original family. Apparently there was something involving animals and...she loves cats so much, but is terrified of hurting them. She would never!" he clarifies when he sees a frown forming on Eddie's forehead. "It's just that whenever she showed affection to any animal, her biological father made sure it would get hurt or at least chased away. And that's gone, that man is in jail and I just...I want to show her that it's okay to love animals again. That she can pet a purring cat without worrying about its safety."

Eddie just stares at him with mouth open. "That's...wow," he says. "Sorry. Processing."

Steve does the hair thing again and laughs and Eddie thinks that this man deserves a brother of the year award, yep, he'll ask Gareth to 3D print one right fucking now. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to dump all that on you, but I had to be honest because this is a big deal to her. To me as well. Just...listen, I like cats a lot, but I'm not the best at interpreting what they mean, their body language and all that. And I really need Jane to have someone here that can tell her what to do, when she's doing a good job...someone who will protect the kitties if she messes up. Her words. I know it's a lot to ask, but..."

But Eddie shushes him. "Say no more, big boy. I'll be here and I'll give the young lady the cat experience of a lifetime."

Eddie used to think he couldn't love his job any more. But with Jane's uncertain smile and big eyes, her incredulous squeal when a cat chose her for the first time, when she kept asking Eddie for specifics of each cat in his care - "which one is more shy, which one likes to be picked up, which one is a picky eater?" - he thinks he's finally found his calling. Steve beams at him and comes back the next day with a bag of approved cat treats for the cats and a box of chocolates for Eddie as a thank you, then asks him out for a dinner - "if that is even appropriate, shit, sorry, I don't want you to feel pressured or something, this is your job, I get it, but I just really admire you and you were amazing to Jane, uh, and the stuff you say about cats is so interesting I'd just love to hear more". Eddie's heart flutters like the traitor it is and he thinks - maybe this is someone I could adopt a cat with one day.

And unsurprisingly, he's right.

[moonselune]

Mayhaps, if you'd like to do one with all the companions, (if not just the ladies are fine^^):

Comforting Tav over something seemingly insignificant, a small inconvenience (dropped food, easy to repair broken item, a shop not having the one thing they're looking for, ECT), but it's just the thing that broke the camel's back, and all the stress and worry and hardship catches up to Tav

this one took a while to do but I hope its okay ! Added Rolan to it but not Raphael as I genuinely think he would simply just magic you away because he would just not want to deal with that - not very order and decorum of you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

You and Karlach had been on the road for weeks, dealing with countless threats and challenges. Today, you had looked forward to a simple pleasure: a meal cooked over the campfire, a small respite from the chaos. But as you carried the pot of stew to the table, you tripped over a root and spilled it all over the ground.

Karlach saw the accident and rushed over, her eyes wide with concern.

"Easy soldier, you got mouths here, to feed not the ants," she said, trying to sound upbeat but she noticed you were very much not sharing the same vibe as her. "Hey, it's okay! We can make more,"

But something inside you snapped. The spilled stew was the final straw. You dropped to your knees, staring at the mess, and felt tears welling up in your eyes. All the stress, the exhaustion, and the constant battle against the odds suddenly came crashing down on you. Karlach immediately knelt beside you, her large, warm hand on your shoulder. "Hey, hey, it's alright. It's just stew. We'll figure it out," she said softly.

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the stew, Karlach. It's everything. I'm so tired. I'm so stressed. I can't keep doing this."

Karlach's eyes widened in panic. She wasn't used to seeing you like this. She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Shh, ssh, it's okay. Let it out," she whispered, stroking your back awkwardly but tenderly. "Shhh,"

You clung to her, the warmth of her embrace grounding you as you let the tears flow. Karlach continued to hold you, her voice a soothing murmur in your ear.

"We're in this together, okay? You don't have to carry it all by yourself. I'm here. We'll get through this."

Her words, combined with her reassuring hold on you, slowly began to calm you down. As your sobs subsided, you leaned back and looked at her, seeing the worry and care in her eyes.

"I'm do sorry," you mumbled, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to break down like that. I-"

"-Don't apologize. You're allowed to feel overwhelmed." Karlach shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. "You're allowed to need a break. We'll take it one step at a time, okay?"

You nodded, feeling a little lighter, and Karlach pressed a kiss to your forehead. The two of you sat there for a little while longer, basking in each other's warmth and slowly you began to feel all of those broken pieces start to mend together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You were in a bustling market, searching for a specific ingredient for a potion. After hours of looking and dealing with the noise and chaos, you finally found the stall that supposedly had it. But as you reached the front, the vendor shook his head. "Sorry, sold out."

That was it. The final straw. You felt a surge of frustration and helplessness. "What do you mean sold out, we need that-"

Before you knew it, tears were streaming down your face. You tried to hold them back, embarrassed by your reaction, hiding your head in your hands, hoping nobody would notice but it was too late. Minthara, who had been silently watching your back, noticed your distress immediately. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing at the vendor before turning to you. You were now shaking, unable to move, stuck in a cycle of crying, trying not to show yourself crying and crying more. Minthara put a hand on your shoulder, glaring at the vendor before you both.

"Excuse us," she said coldly to the vendor. Without another word, she scooped you up effortlessly and slung you over her shoulder. You were too overwhelmed to protest, your emotions a tangled mess. She carried you to a quieter, more secluded alley away from the bustling crowd. Once there, she set you down gently and knelt before you, her eyes searching yours.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice demanding but surprisingly soft.

You tried to speak, but the words came out in a choked sob. "It's… it's just too much. Everything is going wrong. I'm so tired, Minthara. I can't keep doing this."

Minthara's expression softened, and she reached out, gently cupping your face in her hands.

"You are strong, but even the strongest need a moment to breathe," she said, her voice steady and calm. "You don't have to carry this burden alone."

You leaned into her touch, feeling a mixture of shame and relief. "I'm sorry. It's such a small thing to get upset over. It's shameful."

"It is not." `Minthara shook her head and as you tried to bow your head, trying to hide from her gaze, but Minthara was relentless, jerking your head up and back to her. " And it's not just the small thing. It's everything that led up to it. You are allowed to feel overwhelmed."

She pulled you into an embrace, her strong arms holding you close. "Rest here for a moment. Take your time," she murmured. "We'll face this together."

Her words and presence brought a sense of calm over you. You clung to her, letting the tears flow as she held you. In that moment, you felt safe and understood. Minthara's quiet strength and unwavering support were exactly what you needed.

After a while, you pulled back, feeling a bit more composed. Minthara looked at you, a hint of a smile on her lips. "Feeling better?"

You smiled, wiping your eyes. "Yes. Thank you, Minthara."

"Good. Though my only request is that next time you share your worries with me." You nodded and she stood up, offering you her hand. Now, let's find another way to get what we need. We won't let this defeat us."

"Minthara?" You call out to her quietly and she looks at you, her eyes wide, waiting on your every word.

"Yes, my love?"

You didn't answer her, just leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips, pulling away with a smile. "I love you, entirely."

"I love you too."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The day had been a long string of battles and challenges, leaving you exhausted. When you finally made it back to camp, you realised your weapons had grown dull. Pulling out your dagger you began to sharpen it, but either from the strength of your frustration that had built over the past few days, or the excessive use of it, it snapped.

You stared at the mess, the broken pieces of dagger on the floor, glinting back at you almost mockingly in the evening sun. You felt the weight of all your stress and fatigue crash down on you. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you dropped to your knees.

Lae'zel, who had been sharpening her own blade nearby, looked up at the sound of the dagger breaking. She saw you kneeling by the broken pieces, tears streaming down your face. With a determined stride, she approached you and knelt down beside you.

"This is but a minor setback, a weak dagger clearly" she said firmly, her voice calm and pragmatic. "I have many, have one of mine. The battle is not lost."

You shook your head, unable to hold back the sobs. "It's not just the dagger, Lae'zel. It's everything. I'm so tired. I can't keep doing this."

Lae'zel's eyes softened slightly, and she placed a hand on your shoulder, her grip firm and reassuring. "You are stronger than this, and we will face these challenges together. Allow yourself a moment of weakness, but do not let it consume you."

For once her practical approach, and slight criticism, began to ground you. You took a deep breath, trying to regain your composure.

"We will rise above this," she continued, her voice steady as she awkwardly pat you on the shoulder. "Together, we will face whatever comes our way. You are not alone in this, I am here, place your burdens upon me."

''I don't want to do that though-'

"-Do you not think me strong enough? You think your burdens above me?" Lae'zel asked in slight outrage and you couldn't help but laugh at her sincerity.

"No, of course not, my love." You smiled as you rested your head on your shoulder, feeling a bit more in control. She helped you to your feet, her grip never faltering.

"We will clean this up and get you a new blade, one worthy of your strength" she said, her tone decisive. "And we will succeed."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The branch whacks you across the face, a stinging reminder of the day's endless frustrations. It's the final straw. Rage bubbles up, hot and uncontrollable. You raise your hand, the words of a fireball spell forming on your lips. This stupid, unyielding piece of nature is about to feel your wrath.

"Stop!" Shadowheart's voice cuts through your fury, sharp and commanding.

You freeze, your breath coming in ragged gasps. She steps between you and the offending tree, her dark eyes filled with concern. She places a hand on your arm, gently but firmly.

"Calm down," she says, her voice softer now, soothing and she raises her brows at you. "Starting a forest fire isn't going to help us on our travels and it's just going to annoy the two druids."

The fireball dissipates in your hand, and the anger that fueled it ebbs away, leaving behind a hollow emptiness. The tears come then, hot and bitter. You collapse to your knees, the weight of everything crashing down on you. Shadowheart kneels beside you, her arms encircling you, holding you close.

"It's alright," she whispers, her voice a balm to your wounded soul. "I'm here."

You sob into her shoulder, the days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion pouring out in a torrent. She holds you tight, her presence a steady anchor in the storm of your emotions.

"I'm so tired," you manage to say between sobs. "So tired of everything."

"I know," she says, her hand gently rubbing your back. "I know. But attacking nature won't help. You can always come to me. Let me share your burden."

Her words are like a lifeline, pulling you back from the brink. You cling to her, the warmth of her body grounding you. Slowly, your sobs subside, and you lift your head to look at her. Her face is filled with such tender concern that it makes your heart ache.

"Thank you," you say, your voice hoarse but sincere.

She smiles, a small, gentle curve of her lips. "Anytime, my love."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira

The past few days had been a relentless series of challenges, and your nerves were already frayed when you entered a small shop in Baldur's Gate. You were searching for a particular herb that Jaheira needed for her potions, a task that should have been simple. When the shopkeeper informed you that they were out of stock, it felt like the final straw. Your composure shattered, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes.

You tried to hold them back, but the weight of stress, exhaustion, and frustration was too much. You turned away from the shopkeeper, not wanting to make a scene, but the tears started to fall. Jaheira, who had been examining a display of potions nearby, noticed your distress immediately. She approached you with a quiet urgency, her eyes filled with concern.

"What's wrong, my heart?" she asked gently, her voice steady and soothing. You shook your head, unable to speak as the tears continued to flow.

"I… I can't do this anymore," you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. "Everything's just… too much."

Without another word, Jaheira wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into a firm, comforting embrace. She didn't offer empty platitudes or try to tell you that everything would be fine. Instead, she simply held you, letting you cry against her shoulder. Her presence was solid and reassuring, a rock in the storm of your emotions.

"It's okay to let it out," she murmured, her hand gently stroking your hair. "You've been carrying a heavy burden. Let me share it with you."

You clung to her, feeling the warmth of her body and the strength of her support. Gradually, the tension in your muscles began to ease, and your sobs turned into quiet sniffles. Jaheira continued to hold you, her calm and steady presence providing a safe space for you to release your pent-up emotions.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude. "I needed that."

Jaheira pulled back slightly, cupping your face in her hands and wiping away your tears with her thumbs. "We all have moments like this," she said softly. "It's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll get through this together."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The day had been a whirlwind of tasks and responsibilities, leaving you mentally and physically drained. When you finally returned to camp, you decided to prepare a simple meal for everyone. However, as you were carrying the pot of stew to the fire, you tripped over a loose stone and spilled the entire pot onto the ground. It was a small accident, but it was enough to push you over the edge.

You stood there, staring at the ruined meal, feeling a surge of frustration and despair. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you began to shake, overwhelmed by the stress and exhaustion that had been building up for days.

Gale, who had been organizing his spell components nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He rushed over, concern etched on his face.

"Hey, what's wrong, my beloved?" he asked gently, his voice filled with worry.

"It's just… everything," you said, your voice breaking as tears started to fall as you gestured to everything around you. "I can't handle it anymore. I'm so tired, and now this…"

Gale's expression softened, and he reached out to take your hand. "Come here," he said softly, guiding you to a nearby log to sit down. He knelt in front of you, still holding your hand, and looked into your eyes with a calm and steady gaze.

"Let's do some breathing exercises," he suggested. "It might help you feel a bit better. Just follow my lead."

You nodded, too overwhelmed to speak. Gale began to breathe slowly and deeply, and you mimicked his actions. Inhale… exhale… inhale… exhale. The rhythmic pattern of his breathing, combined with his presence, his love, it started to soothe your frayed nerves.

"Focus on your breath," Gale said gently. "Let the tension flow out with each exhale."

As you continued to breathe with him, you felt your body gradually begin to relax. The tears slowed, and the tight knot of anxiety in your chest started to loosen. Gale's hand remained steady in yours, a grounding force that helped you find your center.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but calmer than before. "I love you."

"I love you too," Gale smiled, a warm and understanding expression on his face. "We all have moments when things become too much. It's okay to feel overwhelmed. But please, my love, do not suffer alone. It breaks my heart to see you shed tears like this."

"I'm sorry I-"

"-I do not need you to apologise," Gale whispered as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I just need you, no matter how you feel, okay?"

"Okay" You weakly smile and bury your head into his shoulder, your tears staining his robes but he couldn't care. He just held you and slowly everything seemed to be alright.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The day had been long and grueling, filled with minor inconveniences and stressful encounters that had worn down your patience. You found yourself in the middle of camp, trying to prepare a simple meal. As you were chopping vegetables, your knife slipped, and the entire bowl of carefully prepared ingredients tipped over, spilling onto the ground.

It was a minor accident, but it was the final straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of frustration and hopelessness wash over you. Your hands trembled as you stared at the mess on the ground, unable to hold back the sobs that were threatening to escape.

Astarion, who had been lounging nearby, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and approached you, his eyes narrowing in concern. "What's wrong with you now?" he asked, his voice a mix of irritation and worry.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out between sobs. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Astarion's expression softened, but his way of comforting was unorthodox. He got you to your feet and held you by your shoulders and looked at you straight on.

"Get it together!" he exclaimed, his voice tinged with urgency. He had never seen you like this and he was panicking as it was stirring unexpected emotions in him."If you keep crying like this, I might start crying too, and that would be a disaster, because I am not a pretty crier!"

Despite his harsh words, there was a hint of genuine concern in his eyes. You couldn't help but let out a weak laugh through your tears. His attempt at tough love was oddly endearing.

"Look, darling" Astarion said a bit less panicked now, "Life is a series of unfortunate events, especially for us. But you can't let every little thing break you. You're stronger than this."

He reached out and gently lifted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. "And if you need to cry, fine. But don't think for a second that you're alone in this. We've all had our moments of weakness, even I - though it may be hard to believe"

You giggle and sniffled, wiping your tears away. Astarion's seemingly tough exterior was still present, but there was a warmth in his eyes that reassured you. "Thanks, my love."

He stood up and offered you his hand, pulling you to your feet. "Now, let's clean this up and make something edible. And try not to spill anything this time, alright?"

His playful tone lightened the mood, and you couldn't help but smile. He pulled you into a quick embrace and gave you a reassuring squeeze and kiss on the head before sending you on your way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. The constant stress and pressure had been building up, and when you finally returned to camp, you just wanted a moment of peace. As you unpacked your belongings, a small, cherished trinket slipped from your hands and shattered on the ground.

It was a minor inconvenience, but it was the last straw. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you felt a wave of despair wash over you. Your vision blurred as you tried to gather the broken pieces, your hands shaking uncontrollably.

Wyll, who had been tending to the campfire, noticed your distress immediately. He stood up and walked over to you, his expression filled with concern.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked softly, kneeling beside you.

"I can't… I just can't do this anymore," you choked out, your voice trembling. "Everything's going wrong, and I can't handle it."

Wyll's heart ached at the sight of your tears. He reached out and gently took your hands in his, his touch warm and reassuring.

"Shh, it's alright," he murmured, his voice soothing. "You're not alone. I'm here."

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, holding you close as you cried against his shoulder. His strong arms wrapped around you, providing a sense of safety and comfort that you desperately needed. He didn't say anything for a while, simply letting you release your pent-up emotions.

After a few moments, Wyll pulled back slightly and cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears. "Sometimes, it's the small things that push us over the edge," he said softly. "But you don't have to carry this burden alone. Let me help you."

His words and his unwavering support helped you find your footing again. You took a deep breath, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. "Thank you, Wyll," you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with gratitude.

Wyll smiled warmly, his eyes filled with compassion. "Always," he replied. "Now, let's see if we can fix this, shall we?"

Together, you carefully gathered the broken pieces of your trinket. With Wyll's help, you managed to repair it, and the simple act of working together helped you regain your composure.

"See? Good as new!" Wyll smiled as he presented it to you, you took it with a small smile, nodding your head in thanks as you held it to you chest, the trinket becoming even more cherished now.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The potion fizzles and pops, releasing a pungent, acrid smoke. Your heart sinks as the mixture turns an unnatural shade of green, clearly ruined. It's a small thing, a simple potion gone wrong, but after days of pent-up frustration and exhaustion, it's the final straw. Your shoulders slump, and the tears you've been holding back for days finally spill over.

You drop the vial, not caring as it shatters on the floor. Halsin, who has been quietly reading in the corner, looks up, concern etching deep lines into his kind face. He rises and crosses the room in a few swift strides, his presence warm and comforting.

"Hey," he says softly, wrapping his strong arms around you. "It's okay. It's just a potion."

But it's not just a potion. It's everything. The endless challenges, the constant sense of impending doom, the weight of the world pressing down on you. You bury your face in his chest, sobbing uncontrollably. He holds you tighter, his hand gently stroking your hair.

"It's alright," he murmurs. "Let it out. I'm here."

You feel the warmth of his body, the steady beat of his heart, and slowly, the storm inside you begins to calm. You pull back slightly to look at him, and to your surprise, you see tears glistening in his eyes. His lips tremble as he tries to hold them back, but he fails. He begins to cry, his tears mingling with yours.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice breaking. "I just hate seeing you like this."

The sight of Halsin, this strong, stoic druid, crying because you are crying, tugs at something deep inside you. A laugh bubbles up, surprising you. It's absurd and adorable, and somehow it breaks through the lingering sadness.

"You big softie," you say, wiping away his tears with your thumb.

He laughs too, a shaky, relieved sound, and pulls you into another hug. "I can't help it," he says. "I love you too much to see you in pain."

You cling to him, finding comfort in his warmth and his tears. The moment, though born from frustration and exhaustion, becomes tender and you can breathe easier now. Halsin kissed the top of your head and the two of you stay there for a while, basking in each other's presence.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Rolan:

The day had been a series of small misfortunes, and the final blow came when you discovered that the shop you had been counting on didn't have the one item you desperately needed. It seemed like such a trivial thing, but in that moment, it felt like the weight of the world was crashing down on you. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt the overwhelming urge to scream in frustration.

Rolan, who had been browsing a nearby shelf, noticed your distress. His usual confident demeanor faltered as he saw the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, his voice tinged with worry.

You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat. Instead, a sob escaped, and you quickly covered your mouth, embarrassed by your outburst. Rolan's eyes widened, clearly panicked. He wasn't used to dealing with such emotional meltdowns. Bickering nd arguing he could deal with, this he was a lot less prepared for.

"Uh, okay, let's… let's figure this out," he stammered, awkwardly placing a hand on your shoulder.

The small gesture was enough to break the dam. You began to cry in earnest, the stress and worry of the past days pouring out in a torrent of tears. Rolan looked around, unsure of what to do, but his concern for you was evident.

"Hey, it's okay, beloved" he said, trying to sound reassuring despite his own uncertainty. "We'll figure this out. Just… let it out."

His awkward but sincere attempt to comfort you made you feel a bit better. You took a few deep breaths, trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," you managed to say between sobs. "It's just been so much, and this… this was the last straw."

Rolan's expression softened, and he squeezed your shoulder gently. "No need to apologize, dearest. We all have those days," he said, his voice a bit steadier now. "How about we take a break and sit down for a bit? We can figure things out from there."

He led you to a quieter corner of the shop, and you both sat down. Rolan fumbled for a moment before pulling out a handkerchief and offering it to you. "Here, use this," he said, his tone gentle.

You took the handkerchief and wiped your tears, feeling a bit more composed. "Thank you, Rolan. I just… I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Rolan nodded, his expression understanding. "It's okay. Sometimes, we just need to let it out. And I'm here for you, even if I'm not the best at this."

You couldn't help but smile at his honesty. "You're doing just fine," you said, grateful for his support.

Rolan relaxed a bit, relieved that he was able to help in some way. "Alright, then. Let's take a few more minutes, and when you're ready, we'll go find that item together."

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope you all enjoyed it! - Seluney xoxo

[almond-tofuuu]

Hi I see you're opening request, so I'm here to ask for one. Thank you so much!

Plot: Zayne anger and his punishment when he find out you lied to him and get yourself in dangerous.

anon are you a mind reader?! 👀 bc I've had a draft of this sat in my wip folder for ages!!!

Hope you enjoy!! 💕

Sorry isn't enough...

Zayne x reader

Warnings: angst, lots of angst, no comfort, Zayne is mad (and possibly ooc)

Might do a part 2 (with a happy ending as an apology for this)

Zayne doesn't yell. In fact, in all the time you'd known him you couldn't remember ever seeing him lose his temper. Sure he got annoyed with you sometimes, mainly when you ignored his advice or turned up at the hospital with yet another injury, but it never boiled over into anger. He'd scold you like a child, giving the occasional icy glare, but nothing more. So when you limped into his office today, an hour late for your appointment and caked in dirt and dried blood, you were prepared to receive another lecture about safety from your primary care physician.

The minute you opened the door and took the first unsteady step into his office, you knew something was off. The air held an icy chill, causing a shiver to run down your spine, the tension increasing with every step. You could feel the pressure of Zayne's eyes on you as you approached his desk, piercing green gaze scrutinising every aspect of your appearance, taking note of every scrape and bruise, every smudge of blood that stained your skin and clothes.

"You're late." Emotionless and cold, his voice shattered the uncomfortable silence that had been present since you entered his office. Swallowing thickly, you finally meet his eyes, and immediately regret it. His expression is hard, brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a thin line. His eyes which usually hold a tenderness whenever he looks at you are dark, and swirling with a storm of fury. Zayne is pissed.

Opening your mouth, the apology on the tip of your tongue quickly dies at the sound of Zayne's exasperated sigh. "If you're planning on apologising I'd suggest you save your breath. I have neither the time nor the patience to listen to whatever feeble excuses you plan on giving." His harsh tone hits you like an avalanche, burying you in the disappointment that is practically radiating from him. "I've warned you time and time again to be careful, to prioritise your safety and yet you seem determined not to listen. I've lost count of how many times you've limped into my office. You refuse to listen to my advice yet you come to me whenever your recklessness results in another injury. Tell me, do you insist on continuing this foolish behaviour until it undoubtedly causes your death?!"

A lump forms in your throat, eyes fixed on the floor as you desperately try to hold back the tears threatening to fall. Every cruel word Zayne seethes is another knife to your heart, cutting deep and carving themselves into your flesh. And despite your best efforts, you can't stop the choked sob that escapes your lips. Because it hurts. Seeing the man who has always treated you so gently fuming with rage, steely glare freezing you where you stand, forcing you to endure the brunt of his anger. His words melt together, flooding your mind and making your ears ring as they echo on repeat inside your head. You're so overwhelmed by the crushing weight of his disappointment that you don't even realise you're crying until a cold hand touches your cheek, thumb wiping away a single tear. His breath fans your face as he exhales a tired sigh, "come here, let me see your wounds" his voice is softer now, having lost its previous venom but his outburst has left a sour taste in your mouth. You pull away from his touch, shaking your head slightly as you wipe away the tears that stain your cheeks.

"I can take care of it myself...I wouldn't want to inconvenience you any further." You utter, keeping your voice steady and void of emotion. "Don't worry, you won't have to deal with my reckless behaviour anymore. Goodbye, Dr Zayne." Turning away from him you quickly make your way out of his office, ignoring the calls of your name, determined not to let him see you fall apart completely. With each step you can feel your heart breaking more, bleeding out and flooding your chest with every crushing word Zayne spat at you. You're not sure where you're heading, vision blurring with tears, you just know that the last place you want to be is with Zayne.

[rosyblooom]

blooming season 🌷 (2) | ln4

"grief is just love with no place to go”

PAIRING: lando norris x fem nepo!reader WORD COUNT: 2.5k WARNING(S): mentions of death & blood, swearing SUMMARY: four years after she fled monaco, y/n is back on the anniversary of her father's death. however, an unexpected encounter with an f1 driver disrupts her plans.

part 1 | part 2 <- | part 3

You're not sure how much time has passed since you entered the car, but it doesn't matter. It feels like an eternity. Everything feels overwhelming today—you're the mouse in a world full of elephants, and you don't know how to cope. You want to scream, but your voice feels strained; you want to cry, but there are no tears left. All you can do is sit idly in what feels like a tiny lifeboat in an ocean rippled by giant waves crashing straight at you.

"Feeling any better now?" Lando's voice interrupts the silence, pulling you out of your daze.

You snap your head sideways to face the brunette boy, your brows furrowing as you simply stare at him.

"Hey," he sneaks a quick glance at you before focusing back on the road. "You've been quiet the whole ride. Are you feeling any better now?"

Narrowing your eyes, you fix him with a wary glare before rolling your eyes and bringing your feet to the edge of your seat, hugging your knees tightly. "What's it to you?" you finally respond, gazing through the window.

"Look, I'm trying to make things less… tense here. You could, you know, meet me halfway or something."

"How about you stop trying," you snap, glaring at the side of his face. "Just be quiet. Let's get your hand wrapped up, and then you can just leave."

Lando swallows, his eyes darting between you and the street ahead. "I don't think—"

You cut him off sharply, "Obviously, you just missed the freaking turn."

"What? No, I didn't, look," he points at the GPS that's currently rerouting. "Oh."

"Yeah…"

"No need to worry, it's already figuring out a new way. See?"

"Another inconvenience?" you ask, annoyance laced in each word. "Yeah, actually I do."

Lando purses his lips and drums his fingers against the steering wheel. "I'm guessing I'm the first inconvenience?"

"Wow, you can connect dots," you deadpan, sinking into your seat and resting your forehead against the vibrating window.

*********

The elevator door dings open, and you release a relieved breath upon finding its carriage empty. Lando enters first, settling into one side, while you press your back into the opposite wall.

"Let me guess," Lando begins, trailing his fingers up and down the row of twenty buttons, "your floor is the—"

"Sixth," you interject, your patience wearing thin as you take a step towards him and push the number six, causing it to light up.

Lando sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, nodding. "That was going to be my guess, you know?" He glances down at you, his gaze meeting yours briefly before drifting elsewhere.

Feeling hyperaware of his closeness, particularly the warmth emanating from him, you shift back into the opposite corner of the elevator, but he follows.

Your brow furrows as you grunt, "Personal space, remember?"

"Hold on a second." You feel the gentle touch of his hand atop your head, and moments later, he plucks something green from your hair, fixing you with a pointed look as he extends his palm to you. "A four-leaf clover," he exclaims, excitement glinting in his eyes. "Make a wish on it."

You swat his hand away from your face. "No thanks."

"What, there's nothing you want to have? Nothing you want to wish for?"

Sure, you have a wish—only one. You want your dad back, you want your old life back. The one that felt like summer every year, when there were no cold days.

Feeling the tightness in your throat as your vision blurs, you quickly blink away the incoming tears—you don't remember the last time you cried—and remark sharply, "No, I don't—nothing that's possible anyway. Keep it... or don't, I really don't care."

Just in time, the elevator door dings open, and you rush out of the tight space, desperate for more room.

*********

Fumbling with your key, it takes a few attempts before you finally manage to slot it into the keyhole, agitation coursing through your veins. With a satisfying click, you push the door open, only to find the apartment strangely empty.

Lando squeezes in behind you, causing you to stumble slightly before regaining your footing, shooting him a glare.

He strides down the hallway, with you trailing close behind, and into the brightly lit living room. The space is perfectly tidy, almost unnaturally so—there's not a single thing out of place.

"You sure you live here?" Lando glances back at you, eyebrows raised.

"No, I don't," you reply flatly, "this is actually where I bring idiot boys with no sense of self-preservation to kill."

Lando chuckles, his grin widening slowly. "So, you do have jokes then?"

You shrug and head down another hallway, making a beeline for your bedroom. As you push the door open, memories come flooding back—pictures of your dad adorn the walls, nestled in frames atop the dressers. It's like stepping into a time capsule; everything remains as it was four years ago, yet now it feels tainted.

Without wasting a moment's breath, you flip each picture frame on its head. The images taunt you with their stillness, incapable of conjuring the scent of Dad's favourite cologne or the resonance of his soothing voice. Pictures can't replicate the warmth of his hugs.

Once done, you kneel by your bedside table and retrieve a pair of scissors and bandages from the drawer.

"Now this looks more like it," a voice remarks behind you, causing you to startle and slam the drawer shut, rising to your feet. "This actually looks like someone lives here.”

Balling your empty hand into a fist, nails digging into your palm, you grit out, "I didn't tell you to follow me in here."

Lando raises his hands defensively. "I'm sorry, I was just worried. You were gone for a while, but uhm," he swallows, eyes flicking to the scissors you're clutching.

"Seriously?" you brandish the scissors, "I'm not going to stab you, if that's what you're thinking."

"Sure..."

With a sigh, you take a step forward, but he instinctively retreats, prompting you to shake your head and let out a chuckle—it's been awhile since you've done that.

"It's for the bandage," you remark, crossing your arms. "Also, you do realise you're the intruder here. If anyone should be scared, it's me. But I'm not a scaredy-cat, am I?"

"Neither am I," he insists, dropping his arms.

"Good. Let's head back to the kitchen, then."

*********

Lando leaps onto the counter, eliciting a groan from you as you cut the gauze into a shape that fits the wound on his palm.

Swiftly retrieving a clean tea towel from the cupboard, you situate yourself in front of him, arm extended. "Hand?"

He complies immediately, dropping his hand into your palm, and you begin to dab the skin around the cut dry. Once sure nothing is wet anymore, you reach for the gauze and carefully place it over the wound.

Lando hisses, causing you to tilt your head up, only for a sharp pain to suddenly spread atop your head. You both release loud groans, your hands instinctively moving to massage the throbbing spot on your head, while you watch Lando rubbing his chin.

"What the hell is your problem?" you finally manage after a while.

His eyes widen. "What the hell is my problem? You're the one who suddenly moved," he gestures to you, "you could've given me a heads up or something."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be hovering over me like some weirdo?" you retort.

Lando offers no response; instead, his lips gradually curve into a full-blown grin as he begins to chuckle.

You don’t react, simply staring at him blankly.

“C’mon, don’t lie now,” he says, tilting his head with a smile, “That was kinda funny, you have to admit.”

Despite theatrically rolling your eyes, a small smile betrays your true feelings. Still, you simply shrug and say, "Whatever."

"Alright, cool," Lando nods with a grin. "I'll take that. I'll take a 'whatever' anytime over all the other stuff you've been saying."

Taking the bandage from the counter, you close the gap between you, freeing his hand and delicately wrapping the bandage around the injury.

"You make me sound like a bitch," you mutter, flipping his hand over to inspect the wound. "I'm not—or at least I don't mean to be."

Lando props his free hand onto the counter behind him and leans back, raising his eyebrows. "To be honest, I thought that was the whole vibe you were going for."

You pause, setting the bandage roll on the counter and narrowing your gaze at him. Before you can respond, he quickly adds, "Hey, no judgment from me! I can handle difficult."

"Very funny," you say, shaking your head with a smile as you toss the tea towel into his face.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Lando chuckles, retrieving the towel from his face and sliding it out of reach. When his gaze returns to you, his smile fades, and he simply stares, causing your expression to falter and your eyebrows to furrow.

"What do you think you’re looking at?" you snap, feeling as if you're suddenly trapped in a glass cage.

Leaning forward, a slow smile dances along Lando's lips. "You’re very pretty when you smile," he nods, "you should do that more often, it suits you."

Your expression falters, and you feel your heart sink with guilt. Today marks the fourth anniversary of your dad's passing—the first time you’ve felt strong enough to acknowledge it, to face the hurricane head-on—and here you are, spending it laughing, as if it's not a day plagued with immeasurable sadness and pain.

Isn’t that selfish?

It sure as hell feels like it.

Just like that, the walls rise once more as you fix Lando with a blank expression, swiftly grabbing the bandage roll off the counter. "Let’s just get this done, okay?" Your voice is strained—it scratches at your throat.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, confusion swimming in his bright eyes.

You swallow hard and grasp his hand, continuing to wrap up the wound wordlessly.

"I’m sorry," Lando tries again, "If I said something wrong, I’m sorry."

Sighing, you shake your head, and though you feel his gaze piercing your skull, you refuse to tilt your head up to meet his eyes head-on. "Nothing to apologise for," you state quietly, focusing on the task at hand.

This is exactly why you keep to yourself—your pain is yours alone to bear; it's unfair to burden others with it. You're not the same carefree, easily agreeable Y/N you once were back then. That part of you left the world today, four years ago, with your dad.

"Done," you declare, cutting the excess bandage and patting it down. Then, you create some much-needed distance between yourselves, heading towards the sofa and collapsing onto it.

"You know the way out," you yell, squeezing your eyes shut as you focus on your breathing.

The calm doesn’t linger for long, though, when you fail to hear footsteps or the door clicking open. You shoot upright, only to find Lando at the tap, an empty glass in his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you ask, propping your elbows on the couch’s backrest.

"Getting some water," he gestures toward the faucet and flicks it on. "I’m thirsty."

"You can do that at your own place."

"What, go home for water and then come back?" he shoots you a perplexed look before taking a swig from his glass. "Seems a bit extreme, don’t you think?"

Rising to your feet slowly, you make your way to the opposite end of the counter and lean against it, resting your hands on the cool surface. "And why would you even come back here?"

"For you to check up on me," he explains, waving his bandaged hand in the air, "make sure I don’t develop an infection. I’ve had one before, it was awful."

As if momentarily blinded by sunlight, you blink more than necessary as you process his words. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"The cut, it could get infected after being exposed for so long. So, I think we should wait out the day," he shrugs, "just to make sure it doesn’t get worse."

"And why can't you just go to the hospital?" you press, confusion evident in your voice.

His lips curl into a sly smile as he scratches the back of his neck. "I don't know, you seem to know what you're doing. I trust you."

His admission knots your stomach—you can't recall the last time someone willingly stuck by you after all your attempts at self-sabotage.

You're a pusher. You push and push until people fall off the edge of the cliff, leaving you in the comfort of yourself. So, this catches you off-guard. But strangely enough, the proposal doesn’t make you squirm with disgust, but rather... want? You're not quite sure; it's an old feeling, one you struggle to understand.

"Fine, okay," you sigh, shaking your head in disbelief at your own acquiescence. "I think you're being dramatic, but fine."

Lando nods, a grin spreading slowly across his face. "Great."

The weight of today bears down on you, a stark reminder of your initial plans—ones you can't simply reschedule. No, these you can’t ignore; they're a boulder in your road. Today is the day you will visit your dad; today is the day you will see his tombstone for the very first time.

"I've got somewhere to be tonight," you say, twisting your fingers into painful yet somehow soothing shapes. "So you'll have to leave then. And I’ve got to run some errands throughout the day, so you can, I guess, join me... or you can just stay here—stay out of my fucking bedroom—and yeah, watch TV or whatever it is you do."

"Got any food?" Lando inquires, swinging open your refrigerator doors to reveal painfully empty shelves, save for a lone box of leftover takeout from last night.

"That's a negative," he answers his own question, closing the doors with a sigh before turning to face you. "Can we grab some food while we're out running errands?"

Your stomach grumbles in agreement before you can respond, so you simply nod, snatching up your keys. "We should go now, then."

Lando falls into step beside you in the hallway, and you shoot him a sideways glance, adding, "We'll handle my errand first, then we can grab food."

He holds the door open for you, gesturing for you to pass through. "No complaints from me."

4:05 ───────────ㅇ─ 4:28

TAGS: @leclercdream @evitarubio @landossainz @lottef1 @averymjn

[fettuccin-e]

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.” 

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach. 

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour. 

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat. 

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing. 

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding  your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

[luciathcv]

hormones - lhs

summary: you lash out at heeseung while dealing with hormones and feel bad || warnings: reader is on her period? || genre: fluff, established relationship || word count: approximately 495

I was completely not in the mood. Every little thing was irritating, the littlest inconvenience made me want to break down, all because of my stupid fucking hormones. I hate hormones.

I lay in bed when Heeseung walked into the room, having just gotten back from work.

"Hey, baby. You feeling okay?" Heeseung asks. It wasn't normal for you to be lying in bed so early.

"I'm fine." I say, not feeling the need to announce I was on my period.

"Are you sure? You're never in bed this early." Heeseung comments as he walks over to me and puts his hand on my hip as I lay on my side.

"I told you I was fine." I say in a raised voice, not even realizing I was raising my voice as I say that.

Heeseung's a little taken aback at the attitude but he doesn't say anything about it. He simply rubs your hip comfortingly before leaving the room, thinking it'd be best to give you some space right now.

Once he shuts the door and I sit there silently for a few moments, emotions hit me like a truck. The absence of him was making me feel worse and it was all because of me. He was simply trying to be a good boyfriend but I brushed him off. I could feel myself beginning to softly cry.

I get up from the bed and open the door, slowly making my way out to find my boyfriend. "Heeseung.." I call out after not seeing him in the living room.

"I'm in the kitchen, baby." He responds, not sounding as hurt as I thought he would. I enter the kitchen and see him holding a box of pasta in his hand, seemingly reading the back of the box. "I was just going to make you some pasta, pretty." Heeseung tells me in a soft voice as he puts the box down. He knew it was my favorite thing to eat, especially while on my period.

I sniffle back some tears as I walk over to him and hug him. He immediately reciprocates the hug, holding me close.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I was so mean to you." I apologize as I rest my face against his chest.

"It's okay, Y/n. I know you're not feeling good right now." Heeseung tells me.

"It's not okay. That's not an excuse." I say.

Heeseung then slightly pulls away, making me look up at him. "No one's perfect, honey. I've taken stuff out on you before when upset when I didn't mean to. It's not okay but it happens. We're all human, you know?"

"I know.. but I'm still sorry." I reiterate.

"It's okay. Let me make some dinner. I'm sure it'll make you feel better." He says in a light tone, leaning down to give me a quick kiss before we both pull away from the hug and he goes to make me some pasta.

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