#it kinda has me on autopilot today

[ellivia]

…

[back2bluesidex]

Seven Days a Week - JJK (18+)

Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader

Theme: PWP, SMUT, Fluff if you squint

Wordcount: 1k

Summary: Jungkook promised himself that he will be fucking you right seven days a week.

Warnings: Soft sex, vanilla sex, missionary position, Jungkook is soft with her but kinda persistent (in a good way), creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!

Minors are not allowed in this blog!!

A/N: Permanent Taglist is now updated. Also, I hope you are suffering with me.

“Jungkook… I am still sore from last night.” You breathe out, voice barely a level above of what they call a whisper. 

‘Oh yeah? Then should I go slow right now?” Jungkook’s voice gets muffled as he nips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hands are lost under the blanket, tracing the lines of your body ever so gently. 

“What I am saying is- ah” you get interrupted as Jungkook grabs your left inner thigh and squeezes it hard enough to make your core leak instantly. He really knows your body too well. 

“What I am saying is” you attempt again, “we could skip fucking today.” 

“If it’s what you want then we won’t fuck today.” Jungkook replies. His lips do an incredible job in leaving wet kisses all over your throat and collarbone. 

“But baby-” his hand now hovers above your wet core as he works his way to cup your heat through the thin material of your panty, “-your cunt says otherwise. I think it’s begging for some attention.” 

You let out a low moan before playfully scoffing at your unbearably handsome boyfriend, “is that so? Or is it your morning boner that needs some attention?” 

“I think both of us are at the same place, baby. So let’s help each other out, yeah?” he gets up from his position, taking his hands and mouth away from you for a bit. Reaching for the sheets, he throws the blanket off of your naked body and hovers above you. 

“You are very sly, Jungkook.” You smirk at him. 

“Nope. I am just devoted to you. And my devotion is deeper than the ocean.” he replies briefly before reaching down and kissing your mound through the lace of your underwear. His teeth do their job of grabbing the hem of the panty, pulling that down to your ankles and leaving your glistening cunt exposed for his view. 

“Fuck. So fucking gorgeous.” He talks to your cunt. His left thumb files on autopilot and lands on your clit. He runs his thumb up and down through your slippery folds. You murmur his name shamelessly as he puts the pad of his thumb flat on your clit before proceeding to rub gentle circles on it. 

One of the many things you love about Jungkook is his duality. Last night he fucked you dumb, it was animalistic to say the least. But right now he is softer than he has ever been. He gently handles you as if you’re a fragile porcelain doll. 

Jungkook warps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on it lazily. He flicks the hardened nub with his tongue and you lose your shit a bit. 

His middle finger probes into your entrance. You hiss at the contact. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks, staring at your face while his mouth stays close to your nipple. 

“A bit. But I can take it.” You reply, giving him a small smile. 

“Good girl.” he places a soft kiss on the swell of your left tit. His finger plunges right in you as he teases your walls for a bit. 

“Do you think you can take me in now?” Jungkook questions. You nod in affirmation. 

He climbs off the bed in order to strip his boxers off. 

You take the opportunity to admire this marvelous piece of art disguised as a man. His dark disheveled hair falling on his neck, that lip piercing that makes you wanna taste the metal every now and then, that build chest and toned abs that make you weak on your knees, every single thing about him complement the way he carries himself. He knows his effects all too well and the smug confidence makes you fall for him harder and harder. 

Your boyfriend starts hovering above you while positioning his cock right in front of your entrance.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he breathes out, putting the tip of his cock inside your hole. 

“Okay.” you reply. Your hands find their way around Jungkook’s neck as you pull him down for a kiss. 

The kiss is soft and slow, neither rushed nor hungry, and you love it. 

He slides inside you easier than your anticipation. He gives you time to adjust before he starts moving slowly. His body crashes yours as he puts his weight down on you. 

Grabbing your thighs, he locks those around his torso to bottom you out. His pace gets faster with each passing second but it doesn’t get too overbearing. You feel nice, you feel way too good, oh sweet lord, you feel heavenly. This is the first time you are having slow sex with your boyfriend ever since you got together. 

Honestly, you both are too kinky to have vanilla sex and the prospect of the same never really amazed you. But right now, you can’t seem to wrap your head around the pleasure you are feeling despite the complete lack of dirty words, groping, grabbing, and so on. 

You feel the familiar heat building at the bottom of your stomach. 

“Jungkook, I am close.” You whisper in his ear, which is right beside your lips as your boyfriend is way too busy sucking bruises on your skin.

“Hold it for a bit. Let’s cum together.” he mumbles against your throat. 

With a roll of his hip, he hits your g-spot and you feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head. 

“Now.” Jungkook commands and you cum on his cock. A second later he fills your cunt with his hot white disposal that messily runs down your inner thigh and drops on the bed sheet.  

Both of you pant for a bit and then you manage to voice, “Do you really have to fuck me everyday?” 

“Well, I promised myself, I’ll be fucking you right seven days a week.” he smirks.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie, @coffeedepressionsoup, @meowstake, @vonvi-blog, @nochuel

[hyewka]

soobin + humiliation kink + hes such a perv

priorities, you perv | c.sb ࿐

⭑ synopsis. a blind date? oh thats immediately pushed aside just for the addictive high you get off messing with your roommate, who seems to be more pouty than usual tonight for whatever reason.

⭑ warnings. sub perv soobin, panty sniffing, underwear used as ball gag kinda, handjob, fuck buddy roommate au, humiliation kink sortaa, dacryphilia, vibrator, bunny/pup petname, not proofread, use of goddess

Soobin’s been intent on following you around like a puppy this evening, all around the house, but the longer he keeps it up, the less it becomes cute and funny and the more it crosses into the ‘overbearing jealous boyfriend who isn’t actually your boyfriend’ territory. Because really, why the hell has he been acting like a pet with abandonment anxiety the day you have your blind date scheduled?

“You can’t come in my bedroom with me.” you finally say, flashing him a superficial wide smile, behind your door.

He abruptly stops, stumbling back like his mind really was on autopilot following you—then his face falls, brows knitting together. “What, why?”

“Because I don’t want your cooties all over my bed.” He isn’t amused, clearly, with a brow raised. You groan, it could be life or death and your roommate would still not choose to humor you. “I’m going to change idiot.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before?”

You click your tongue at him—he might have an amazing track record with academics, but sometimes it really is rocks for brains in there. “You’re not coming in Soobin, tough luck!”

In lightning speed he sticks his arm between the crack before you shut your door. “Wait, no, I wanna—I wanna help you pick something out!”

Now its your turn to raise a brow. Soobin? Help you get ready? He’d rather die of boredom.

You knew you weren’t crazy.

All day, hes been acting extremely out of character. Throwing you pouts during the one lecture you shared, feeling his eyes bore into you like he’s trying to burn a hole in your face, yet still spending money to buy you your favorite tiramisu even when he’s been sulking like you’ve wronged his entire bloodline.

The craziest thing is that you truly do not know a bigger cheapskate than Soobin. He’d chase a quarter in a crowd of people even if it took him all the way to Japan. So the tiramisu was a mind boggling investment. For you, let alone. It’s like he was bribing you.

He couldn’t have magically fell head over heels, it has to have something to do with the one thing different today. Your blind date.

You reach out to pat his head, mock pouting. He takes the bait anyway, lowering his head a little, looking so cute confused. It’s adorable actually, how quick he is to go with whatever you do.

“Aww Soobie, it’s okay, I promise you’ll always be my number one good boy. You really don’t have to be jealous and act out.” you tease, intentionally using baby talk to agitate him a lot more than it would’ve.

He scoffs loudly snapping his head to the side, bewildered this is the direction you decided to take things. “What? Jealous? Jealous? Jealous of what? I’m not jealous.” You stand there wearing a skeptic look on your face and a cross of your arms over your chest.

He wags his finger at your face like he can’t believe your audacity, dryly laughing (which really just sounds like a bunch of scoffs stringed together). “You’re funny, I—I gotta give it to you Y/N, you should really try your luck with Hueningkai’s comedy group again. Is it a crime to want to support your roommate after being all too aware of her notorious losing streak with the dating world? I don’t think so!”

Ouch, the all too real call out. “Damn, okay asshole you can help.” you faux hurt, not missing the chance to flip him off before walking inside and leaving your bedroom door wide open behind you. Maybe his input will have you get to your date earlier. “By the way, I do not have a losing streak.”

————-

There are outfits you just think you’d never wear to a first date—your black bodycon with cuts at the waist was an absolute no-go, especially with it’s length. Then there was the crimson red shoulder-off that had your tits looking too full—that was a big no. You don’t even know how your blind date looks, you wouldn’t want to have a man you find sexually unappealing to find you sexually appealing. That’s always a cause for a migraine.

But the problem you’re facing right now is far greater than any migraine you’ll experience. Soobin seems to think every outfit you wound up coming out with is, in his own words, “too much”.

This one’s the worst of all. “It’s literally just ripped jeans and a crop top!”

“That’s the problem! It doesn’t even look pretty!” he splutters, eyes wide and a large pout on his lips.

“You want me to wear something pretty?”

He looks to the side, mumbling, “Whatever.”

It’s raining, you hear it pouring and you’re like, fifteen minutes late already. All for Soobin’s useless input. It’s not worth it, and you’re proven even more correct when you come out the bathroom with the outfit you picked out. White, tight, but flowy at the ends of the dress. Girly and especially tight at the chest, just like you know he likes it.

Soobins eyes don’t fail to shamelessly rake over your body, stunned, looking like a deer in headlights. He clears his throat, snapping out of it. “No, absolutely not.”

You feign innocence, tilting your head. “Why not? It’s pretty.” You make it more of a point when you turn around, acting like you’re just checking your outfit through your wall mirror, knowing damn well the horndogs probably salivating at your ass barely being covered.

“It’s too much.” he parrots again lamely, chewing slightly on his lips. “Change, you can’t go out like this.”

Okay, that sort of pisses you off, turning around with your arms crossed again to the boy sitting at the edge of your bed. He doesn’t have the right to order you around. “Yes I can, I very much can.”

Suddenly, there’s a switch—he cowers like a kicked dog. “You can wear whatever you want I didn’t mean to-”

You break into a grin all of a sudden walking towards him, shutting him up.

He gulps, sitting there, avoiding eye contact when you’re close. You prop his chin up, and he just lets you, forcing him to look you in the eye. God, he already looks stupidly entranced. “You’d hate for me to wear this, huh?”

“Yeah..” he admits way too easily, a little whine in his voice, brows knitting up. Cute.

“But you love the dress, don’t you?” you purr, caressing his face with your thumb.

Your phone suddenly rings and you’re pulled out of the moment for a second, glaring at it then back to your roommate who looks like he’s under some love spell. Yeah no, this is much more fun.

You ignore the call, letting it ring as you drag your thumb down his bottom lip and god how obedient he is just sitting there and looking up like you’re his deity.

“What?” you giggle at the way his breath hitches the further you trail your finger down his body. The switch right before your eyes, oh that transformation’s worth more than anything else in the world. Bunny’s horny.

“You’d love to take this off me, right? You’d love me tease you bit by bit, have my tits bouncing in the restrictions of them, just struggling to keep your hands from ripping it apart...” you trail off, finally getting your hand on his half erect clothed dick.

You can see him holding back, holding back from humping your hand, the one you just purposefully let rest on his growing boner. “Your date.” he reminds.

You quirk a brow, taken aback. “Want me to go?”

Suddenly, he vigorously shakes his head, “No, no, don’t. I want you, please.” The strain of his voice when he pleads—god it’s the sexiest, most sinful thing ever.

Shameless. Just the way you like him.

“Hm? You do? Don’t you always?” you tease, walking away to get something out of your drawer.

“What are you looking for?” he mumbles skeptically.

You gleam, pulling out the vibrator and turning it on, showing it to your unsuspecting roommate. “Let’s play with this.”

He frowns. “You know I can make you feel ten times better than that toy, you don’t need it.”

“Who says its for me?”

You enjoy the blush that trickles his cheeks, and how easily the tips of his ear turn red as he blinks rapidly to collect himself. His adam apple bobs up and down again, stumbling over his words. “God, you’re such a himbo.”

“W-wait!” he shrieks, suddenly covering the tent in his pants.

You halt, the vibrator only a few inches from his crotch. “Can—can you…” he sighs frustratedly, looking away from you, the steam coming his red ears has you curious, what’s he so hesitant for? “Can you take off your underwear?” Oh.

Of course.

Your lips form into a smirk, knowing exactly what he wants to do with them. Slowly, with one hand you pull down your panties and let them drop to the floor. His eyes are, despite having a hard time telling you what he wants, eagerly fixed on the black lace, you could see the bead of sweat that breaks from his forehead. Pervert.

You bend down to grab it, purposefully making a show of it and he just huffs. “Get with it already.”

You laugh, “You’re being so bratty today. Think you’re owed a fuck?”

He whimpers dejectedly, shaking his head. Mockingly, you wave your panties in front of his face like an owner wagging a bone in front of their dog. He’s so indecent he has the audacity to take a whiff when the garment is close enough. God, he really is absolutely shameless.

And you really need to relieve yourself. You’re trying to not rub your thighs too much.

You crumble the underwear in your hand, and coo. “Open your mouth wide baby.”

Soobin’s mouth falls open almost immediately, tongue lolling out, looking up at you expectantly so much so it would be endearing if not for the situation you’re currently in. You shove it in his mouth, cringing at the saliva that wets your fingers.

“This is how it started huh?” you near the vibrator on his inner thighs enjoying the way he sighs through his nose, shuddering. “Fooling your roommate into thinking you were a studious, innocent good boy but in reality you just snuck in the laundry room every night to jerk off with her panties. Disgusting.”

He moans wantonly around the fabric, his hair brushing over his eyes as you near the vibrator to where he actually wants it. His dick. Poor him, its probably weeping in his pants.

“Violating me like that without my knowledge— you’ll always be a bad boy.”

Again, he shakes his head hard, to the point your panties fall out of his mouth already. “No, good boy. I’m your good boy.” he pants, face flushed. How’s he so easily worked up?

You giggle, pressing the vibrator against his cock, having Soobin’s jaw fall slack. “Couldn’t even keep the underwear in your mouth for more than two seconds. You’d make a really good camboy, always wanting people to hear you moan and whine like a slut.”

“No, no, just want you. Just want you to hear me.”

That affects you more than you’d like, and you try to fight the blush that warms your cheeks. God damn Soobin.

But he isn’t even aware, if his babbles were any indication. He dips his head back, big hands digging onto your sheets as you run the vibrator up and down. “Fuck.” he groans, still keeping his eyes open to watch your chest. You know he’s trying hard to keep up the good boy act for you, so you throw him a bone.

He gasps when your hand goes down his pants to wrap around his cock, and it’s the cutest thing ever how he immediately melts. You’re sitting next to him, twisting and jerking off his dick with his head leaning on your shoulder when you’re supposed to be under an umbrella with a future dating prospect instead.

Who cares, that man you’re sure wouldn’t give you what he’s giving you.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna fuck you f-first.” he breathes into your neck. “Please goddess, please. Want your pussy.” he begs dumbly, starting to lay wet kisses to your neck— hes just not leaving room for you to really hold back.

“Holy shit, you’re good.” you realize in awe, probably wetting your bed with how aroused you are right now.

“Then take me baby, take me how you want. You’ve been good, so good.” you slur, and he practically jumps onto you like an oversized bunny, having your back on the mattress and him hovering, pulling you into an open mouth kiss almost immedietely.

“You’re so hot, fuck, you drive me crazy.” he says rushed, kissing you again, melting his mewls and pants into it.

You feel the roughness of his hands playing with your tits already, kneading so desperately you think he must’ve been itching to do just that this entire time. You like it with him, how it’s so dirty and quick, but still passionate enough to keep you wanting more.

“Fuck, wanna see them, please, please.” he whines as he salivates even more, playing with your nipples through the fabric, cheeks red and flushed, pathetically humping your cunt with his boner. “No, be a good bunny and fuck me good.”

He’s sniffling and tears stain his lashes, yet he still nods obediently, humping your cunt like he’s just restless enough to not pull out his dick and put it in—it’s the hottest thing ever.

But eventually the fabric feels rough against your skin, and you hiss, taking it upon yourself to pull out his cock from his pants.

God, his tip is red, leaky— it’s gross, a testament to how he gets with you and you love it. “Come on baby—bunny, fuck me.” you look up at him with wide, doe eyes and it immediately has him nodding frantically, missing your entrance once before he completely bottoms out, suffocatingly filling you up in one push—you’ll just never get used to his size.

“Always so mean, you’re always so mean to me.” he dumbly babbles, tongue out as he fucks into you maniacally, getting lost in your pussy.

“But you’re in my cunt right now aren’t you?” you mock, knowing that’s always his end goal with you, his end prize.

You’re breathless, curling your toes the harder he snaps his hips. You’re used to how it is with Soobin, he’s always animalistic and unrhythmic, rubbing your clit like he has no idea what he’s doing. But that’s the fun in it, how inexperienced and pathetic he is.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, are you? Are you?” he’s out of it, kissing your neck, biting, panicky as he nears his orgasm, that before you could respond, you’re already feeling his seed fill your cunt.

He can tell, he can tell when you didn’t get there so he’s already pulling your dress up over your tits, attaching his mouth on one of your nipples, pulling the other through his hands, playing with them till they become puffy and have you withering under him. “Fuck, fuck Soobie…just like that,” you moan, feeling his long fingers squeeze into your pussy, speeding up, trying to rip an orgasm out of you.

The tense of his arms, veins showing, cease once you arch your back and cum at getting a good look of his face— lips raw and red as he bit onto them for majority of the time, eyes wet and big, just silently begging you to cum on his fingers, you let yourself go, the tightening band finally snapping.

—————-

note. lol im not super duper confident but let me know how you guys feel about this one, feedback keeps me going

[nnight-dances]

EVERYTHING

PAIRING: yoon jeonghan x f!reader (ft. wonbin)

GENRE: angst, fluff toward the end

TROPES: established relationship, model!jeonghan, singer-songwriter!reader, jealousy, paparazzi interference and rumors, and so on.

NOTE: this was hard to write so bear with me and let me know if there's anything that absolutely sucks about this lol... i love jeonghan but he's so hard to write (maybe it's because i'm the most not normal about him)... anyway this plot is kinda inspired by a real life fight i had with a friend who i have ambiguous feelings so do with that what u will :) enjoy!!!!

"thanks, love," jeonghan mumbles into your cheek when you hand him the wallet he'd forgotten at home this morning. even in the dim moody lighting of the room, you can see he's genuinely happy to see you when he pecks your cheek. you smile and press your hand into his, "how bad was today?" 

he hums, "not too bad if i don't think about it too hard."

it's not out of the ordinary for a successful model like jeonghan to have the mind-numbing schedule he has but you can't help hurting for him anyway. "i'm sorry, babe," you squeeze his fingers and he nods in acknowledgement. he's too tired to say much most days so you've gotten accustomed to interpreting his silences. 

you were part of a band known for its jazzy music and you were its lead singer and song-writer, which meant it couldn't be helped that you had written more than a few love songs dedicated to yoon jeonghan, your lover of over two years now. in that time, you'd found a good beat with jeonghan, spending a good four months with both your heads' deep in work and only the nighttime spent in each other's arms. sometimes, jeonghan's international presence meant a few weeks of not even that. and as your band got bigger, you took on tours that only took you further from jeonghan. but after a rocky summer, came the breeze of fall. 

fall meant downtime for both your jobs, a time you could easily retreat and while the rest of the world turned vacation mode off, you would travel with jeonghan, whether it be across the world or just along his skin on a rainy weekend. it was easy with him, even when it wasn't. 

but recently, you'd found yourself wondering if it really was that easy still. tonight you're performing at this club, a local presence known for its hosting of musical influences, and jeonghan managed to escape his impossible day to watch you. you should feel loved, grateful for him, but when it's your turn to perform, you feel yourself drift away from him.

onstage, even as you introduce yourself and your band members, your eyes are on him. but he seems so far away. he watches you, not a smile on his face, just familiarity. as if he'd memorized all that you had to say, as if this was another box to tick on his long day. you clear your throat to steady your mind and open the first song, "this one's called heavy." it was an old song, perhaps one you'd only performed before you met jeonghan. which would explain how hopeless the melody was, how uncertain your voice got throughout, and scarily enough, how much you found yourself relating to it now, so many years later. 

after the song's over, you glance at jeonghan and he seems as stoic as ever, clapping in encouragement but without any mirth. you sigh, "woah, sorry to bring the mood down like that," you chuckle a little when the crowd laughs, "um, anyway, this next one's much happier, i promise. it's called loverboy… after my one and only, well, boy." you laugh again and spot jeonghan smile, too, all the way at the bar and your heart thaws a little, allowing you to get through the song without thinking again about how cold it felt in the room. 

you get through the next two songs without a hitch, perhaps because you let yourself go on autopilot mode and restrict yourself from even looking at jeonghan for your own sake, and come down with a heavy sigh. your bandmate, yves, touches you on the shoulder with a frown, "you good, y/n?" you nod, "yeah… i'm just tired. or something." she pats you on the head, "don't think too hard about things, dove. just let go. or something." you laugh at her witty piece of advice and thank her as you head for jeonghan, naturally. 

he wraps you in his arms when you find him, plenty kisses on your neck, "my girl did so well." 

you let out an uneasy groan, "i don't know, han, i feel like i was lame."

jeonghan pulls away with a frown, "no, you weren't. you were amazing. although that first song caught me off guard. it's been a while since you performed it."

"yeah… it was my decision but it felt right," you shrug. jeonghan's eyes take on a gravity you don't like when you say that so you avert your gaze, "but more importantly, when can we go home so i can get out of this dress and sleep?"

a year ago, jeonghan would've gone, "i'll help you take it off right now, love," but now he agrees solemnly, "i think we go as soon as everyone's focused on the next set." 

–

you know it's stupid, you do, to dwell over the details of your relationship this obsessively. but honestly, once you start there's just so much to pick at. to start, you felt more distant from jeonghan than ever, as if there was something unsaid in your way just keeping you from getting back close to him. and you hate it when things go unsaid. but you also knew jeonghan didn't care for spelling every little thing out, he could settle for a little discomfort till ignoring it was enough to make it go away. 

but that was just it, you couldn't take it anymore. you'd had a few fights with jeonghan in the past and they'd all come down to the fundamental differences in your natures. you liked for everything to be said and thought out, especially if either of you felt hurt or unheard. jeonghan liked silence, just simple gestures speaking a million words and routines in place to reaffirm your love. you knew it was better his way, simpler and easier, but you'd lived his way and now, you find yourself suffocating in the same bed as him. 

you stir away from him, rolling off the bed and onto your feet, and make your way to your makeshift studio, closing the door off incase jeonghan gets curious. you can just say you were working on a new song. once in, you throw yourself against a bean bag, head heavy in hands. 

"god, this is stupid," you mumble as the tears roll out. you spiral almost immediately, thinking back to everything that went wrong in the past few months. for one, jeonghan was away for your 25th birthday, for the whole week, and though you'd spent it surrounded by your friends and his apologetic gifts, you couldn't talk the bitterness away. then, he'd been mad at you when you told him your tour started during the week he had off, calling you a "workaholic" because you'd rather work than go with him on the beach trip he'd planned. it was unfair, he'd admitted later, but not after you'd spent the whole week of your tour crying yourself to sleep. 

to add to it all, were the recent rumors in the news about jeonghan's brand new 'mistress', a japanese model called nana. even before the first article came out, he'd called you outright, telling you his agency had caught a reporter in japan pestering nana if she was anything to jeonghan. that had only dullled the pain you felt when you read it, pictures of jeonghan and nana posing for a cover shoot. and it wasn't the first time jeonghan had looked absolutely stunning beside another person, far better than you'd looked with him in all the paparazzi snaps that circulated the net when questioning if you were still in the running for the attractive model. 

it wasn't the first time and yet, thanks to your already strained relationship, you felt more hurt than usual. this was also the longest scandal yet, ongoing past four weeks, perhaps because of jeonghan's frequent visits to japan. it really got you thinking how there were so many reasons for the two of them to be in the same room. 

– 

jeonghan, alone in your shared bed, inevitably wakes up, confused when he doesn't feel you. "y/n?" he calls out, hoping you might just be using the washroom, but the lights are off and there's no sound in the bedroom. "my love?" he calls out louder, propping himself up on his elbows. when he hears no response, he falls onto his back with a weary sigh.

there was something up with you. you'd been acting… distant since the past two weeks. you'd pull away from his kisses a few beats too soon and wake up long before you had to. he wondered if he should ask you because he knows that's what you'd want but whenever he got to sit down next to in full seriousness, he'd go weak, missing your presence when he was away. 

he pulls out his phone, skimming throught the texts that had accumulated over the few hours he was asleep. there's a few from nana, the model he was rumored to be having an affair with. 

nana: another stupid article :( 

jeonghan sighs at the link she'd forwarded him. in full honesty, he'd all but developed a good friendship with nana while in japan, where he'd been previously lost without a good guide telling him where to go. given all his staff was korean, they could only be as useful as a google search. nana, however, had taken up to herself to show him the local spots, the shopping district where he'd been able to secure gifts for you, anticipating your needs before you'd known them.

you know all this, of course. jeonghan had offered to break all ties with nana if it bothered you but you'd been insistent that he keep his relationship with her, especially when it kept him sane abroad. 

you'd said you were fine, so how come you weren't next to him, mumbling sweet nothings into his chest like you always loved to? when you couldn't sleep, you would wake him up with your persistent kisses, apologizing when he did finally come to, but then talking about everything in the world from your outfit tomorrow to your plans in the next five years. 

"are we…" you'd started one night but then stopped, going hot and hiding your face into the pillow.

"are we what, love?" jeonghan pried you off the pillow and onto his arm, pushing his face close to yours so you couldn't run. 

"are we serious, han?" you finally asked, quietly. "you know, like, long-term serious?"

"hmm, let me think… i don't know we've only been dating for 20 months so i wouldn't get your hopes–"

you hit his chest with a muffled giggle, "you know what i meant!"

"i don't, really?"

you avert your gaze, "are we ever gonna, you know, be married? have kids? that kind of thing…"

jeonghan's heartbeat had sped up despite all his nonchalant facades and his face disclosed his flustered state causing you to go redder. "it's- forget about it if it's not something you've thought about–"

"of course i've thought about marrying you, doll," jeonghan asserts, arm around your waist to stop you from flailing around, his fingers draw circles on your exposed stomach. "of course i want to be committed to you for life, y/n. and don't even get me started on kids. i know it doesn't seem like it because i'm such a cool guy but i'm crazy for kids–"

"no, it's pretty obvious, you basically lose your head everytime we see a couple with a newborn baby–"

"okay, well, there you have it. i want kids with you, y/n."

you mull over his words in silence for a moment and then, "not now though, right?" you say, "we're both too succesful in our careers to… start a home."

jeonghan palms your cheek lovingly, "i think what we have right now is already home. but you're right, i think we ought to wait some more time. till it feels right."

till it feels right, he'd told you and now he kind of regrets it. he should've asked you to marry you right there so you'd never have a reason to doubt your relationship ever again. but again, that too was just a dream. 

– 

jeonghan was off to japan for a week. yet again, you think, holding your tears back on a sunday afternoon when you wake up to a resounding silence in your home. you need to find a way to make things right, you know. you need to talk to jeonghan but honestly, your head hurts so much you'd rather just forget all about him.

that's why you find yourself crashing at yves' place for the next few days, her house known to be a hub for lost souls and good music. you spend your afternoons working on new music, inspired by your new surroundings, writing about everything but jeonghan and as soon as it hit seven, you'd be helping yourself to martinis, thanks to yves' well-equipped bar. 

you were amid making yourself a drink while yves went over some notes and recordings you'd made this afternoon when she sat up with a weird look in her eyes. "y/n?"

"what is it? is it horrible?"

"no, it's not that. it's just… this feels like a different person," she comments, finger scrolling through your lyrics. "like a younger version of you? it has the same lonely vibe to it. i'm a fan of it to be honest, but i'm just wondering… is everything good?"

you chuckle, "yves, you ought to have known that if i'm here for an extended period of time, nothing is good… but i appreciatey you asking. i'll be fine, eventually." 

your friend is lost in thought for a while and you sip your drink when her phone pings with a message. she reads it and turns to you with a glint in her eye. 

"so… does that mean you'll go clubbing with me tonight?" 

– 

if you were gonna embrace a younger self, you might as well do it all, you thought, putting on a dress you'd loaned from yves. it was shorter than anything you'd worn recently and a light pink you never naturally gravitated towards. but you had to admit, it did look quite good on your figure when you looked in the mirror. you embellished your eyes with glitter, lining your eyes with mascara and a thin wing at the ends. 

the club itself is nicer than you'd expected and you're glad you'd dressed up as much as you did, pursing your lips to make sure the lip gloss you'd applied was still intact. yves pulls you to a table with her friends, some of them mutual to you, others complete strangers to you. either way, they're all fun, welcoming you without a question. 

one of the familiar faces is wonbin from a contemporary band known for its unique take on house music. he immediately materializes by your side when you've downed your first shot of the night, large grin overtaking his face. "you're here?" 

you tilt your head at his question, "i am! it's weird, isn't it?"

"a little," he shrugs, "you stopped coming out with us after you got swept up with that pretty model boy of yours."

you grow a little uneasy at the mention of jeonghan's name, "yeah, well, i thought it would be good for my music if i reconnected to my past a little. let myself live a little."

wonbin smiles, "that's nice, i love that. and to that," he brings out two more shots, handing you one, "cheers!" you hesitate for a moment but then catch yves looking at you encouragingly, and clink glasses with him, downing the drink in a go. 

that's all it really takes for you to let go. your body finds the music's rhythm faster than anyone else in the group so you take to the dance floor, and wonbin follows you, telling yves he'd look out for you. not that you need it. 

it's been a few songs that you've been dancing around, with wonbin's body getting closer to you with each time. you blink when his hand is at your waist, and you clear your throat, "i'm gonna go get some water!" wonbin grabs a hold of your wrist, "i'll come with!" 

it's a little uncomfortable, the way he's following you around, but you reassure yourself it was only for good intentions. a few more songs you keep yourself close to yves and her friends, feeling wonbin's presence heavily on your shoulder, but then you're a few more shots in and it doesn't really matter. 

it's only when you return from the bathroom when things go awry. it starts with your phone blowing up with texts and a call from jeonghan. in the loud music of the club, you can barely think, let alone talk to your boyfriend who you'd been ignoring for a week so you decline. when you make back to your table, your phone goes off again. jeonghan again. 

before you can register how odd it is of him to double-call you without good reason, wonbin's pulling you over next to him. you sit with a groan, "wonbin, i need to take this call–"

"y/n, you need to look at this. it's about jeonghan and that japanese model–"

yves cuts wonbin, "wonbin, get the fuck off her!" she tries to pry his arm off you but you find yourself unmoving when you catch jeonghan's figure on screen. he's laughing next to someone, a girl– oh, it's nana. she leans in close, a little too close, and you're not sure if it's your spinning head, but she keeps on getting closer, close until her lips are on jeonghan's and–

"i feel sick," you exclaim suddenly, clutching your stomach. wonbin's strong arms are around you in a moment and yves can't fight him off when he leads you through to crowd, weaving through the impossibly long line to the bathrooms. despite everything, you're thankful for him when he holds your hair up when you throw your guts up, tears mixing with the alcohol in your system. 

when you're done, you ask yves if she can take you home and she's already ready with your bag over her shoulder. 

"y/n, wait!" wonbin stops you, hand on your elbow, "can i talk to you for a sec–"

"wonbin, please, you've done enough, she needs to go home–"

"go home to what exactly?" he questions and you have to physically restrain yourself from falling to your knees with the sobs that wreck your body, "i'm here for you, y/n, if you ever need–"

down in your bones you know jeonghan better than anyone, know he would never be the kind to cheat on you, to ever leave you for the wolves like this. but honestly, the news ring out louder than anything in your head. "yoon jeonghan with ito nana, confirmed? was his little singer-songwriter girlfriend just a joke?" 

that's how you feel right now. little. and like a joke. you simply nod at wonbin and turn around to leave the club before the music can suffocate you any more. 

"i'm sorry, y/n, i didn't think he'd act up like that–"

"it's okay, yves, you didn't do anything," you tell her and look down at your phone at the photo of jeonghan that shows up every time he calls you. it was one you'd taken on your very first dates, of him sitting prettily across the table with a chopstick in each hand. 

"you should talk to him, y/n," yves pats your back, "you don't have to go back to him but you have to hear him out, right?"

you sigh, "you're right." 

you accept the call as yves leads you to a silent corner and gives you some space as she goes off for a smoke. you hold your breath when you hear jeonghan's voice. he sounds distraught.

"y/n? love?" 

all you can do is sigh to delay your tears. "hey," you say coarsely and jeonghan's losing his mind. 

"baby, can you stay where you are? i'm on my way, okay? i… i don't know what you've seen but you know it's not the truth. okay? just," you hear him run into someone and apologize. was he running to you? that would be crazy. "just let me talk to you."

you take a deep breath, "i'm waiting here." 

you don't question how he found you, it's likely your location on life360, a feature you'd added a year into your relationship just to know where the other was. just in case. 

you hadn't opened the app in a while, there hadn't been a reason. even if you knew where he was, he'd be far enough that it didn't mean enough. 

it takes a few more minutes before you hear jeonghan's voice on the sidewalk outside the club. he's in a white shirt that's been untucked from his pants. he's disheveled, and you can only wonder why. 

"y/n," he says, out of breath, sweat beading his forehead. 

"did you run here?"

"the car was stuck in the traffic so i told my driver to catch up," he inhales deeply, "i had to see you." 

"and why is that exactly?"

jeonghan sighs, "love, i think we both know why. that clip of nana kissing me probably found you by now?"

you look at your feet, "i saw it. i thought you guys were just friends?" you pause and before jeonghan can speak, you continue, "or was that just a lie silly little me believed?" 

jeonghan's hands find your shoulders, "there is absolutely nothing between me and her. i thought my platonic feelings were reciprocated because we'd been normal for so long. but then today, she… she kissed me and i realized that was me being stupid." 

"of course she was into you," you mumble. 

"i'm sorry, i really am. not just for this but for the past few weeks. or more than at. i don't know how long it's been but i feel like i haven't been putting you first."

"jeonghan, you have to know that it just sounds like you're overcompensating so i forget about the nana stuff."

"there is no nana stuff," he tells you, "and if you must know, i was always planning to come home a few days earlier. you've been so cold lately and i thought i could surprise you. but then you stopped responding to my texts and i found out through your bandmates you hadn't been home in a week. i got worried and in my head."

"i admit, i let nana distract me, but as nothing more than a friend. because when you're gone, i also lose my closest friend. i have no one but you to talk to you, love, i can't trust anyone, not after today. and i'm so sorry that i don't talk to you more, that i don't address problems as they come up."

you feel weaker than ever, head still down as tears roll down. "y/n? are you crying? baby, look at me, please."

"han, i really don't know what to do anymore," you finally break out, letting him take you into his arms, "i've been so miserable without you. i… i can't do it anymore." you take a deep breath to gather your thoughts. 

"you're so good at accepting changes and moving on from little fights. but i'm crazy. i get stuck in a spiral for days over the little things and after your scandal started, i… i can't help but think they're right." 

you pull away to look jeonghan in the eyes, "maybe i'm not the right one–"

"no," jeonghan cuts you off with a hiss that surprises both of you, "i will not have you think the stupid crap they're writing in the news, okay? you're my love, y/n, you're my everything. seriously, did you not hear me? i don't care about anyone else like i care about you. god, i'm stupid for not having married you when i had the chance."

"han, i don't know, i'm so tired," you rest your head against his. "can we go home for now?" 

later that night, you sit side by side with jeonghan on your side of the bed. you've taken your shoes off but not your dress. "is that a new dress?" he asks lowly. 

"i borrowed it from yves," you reply, adjusting the straps to sit right, "does it look fine?"

you feel like you're in a liminal space with jeonghan right now. you haven't broken up but you're not sure if everything's back to normal just yet. funnily, it feels like the first few months of getting to know him. he has the same boyish nervousness about him as his hand reaches out to brush your hair out of your face. 

"you look so good i'm mad i didn't buy you this dress," he says, "or that i didn't get to dance with you in it." 

you sniff, "i wish you'd been there tonight." and after a moment, "i wish we weren't so different."

and then again, "i wish we were the same person so i could know your thoughts inside and out without having to bother you." 

"it's not a bother, i'm just bad at it," jeonghan says, "and i don't wish we were the same person. because i love how different we are. i have so much fun with you, learning your ways and fighting with you."

"fighting is fun?" you ridicule him.

"only in retrospect, of course. i never want to see you look as hurt as you did tonight." 

he reaches out for your hand and you let him, intertwining your fingers. he places your joined hands against his lips and then back into his lap. "i love you, y/n. i love you more than everything."

"i thought i was everything?" you ask through a half-concealed giggle.

"don't tease me when i'm being vulnerable, love," he whines, "i'm serious. i'm sorry for making you feel so ignored all this while. it was never my intention. everything i did, i did because i'm stupid and still learning. but i always want to be with you. i want to spend everyday with you." 

"i love you too, han," you kiss his shoulder, "i'm sorry, too, for being so closed off. you don't have to feel so bad, it was partially my fault too."

jeonghan stands up, pulling you up after him. before you can ask him what's wrong, he hugs you tight, breath soft on your exposed back. your arms find his waist, rubbing his back in a reminder of how much you love him. slowly, you're not sure who starts it, you both start swaying to no song in particular, just to the rhythm of your heartbeats. he twirls you around with a smile and kisses your forehead. 

"on that note, my love," jeonghan stills you, tiptoeing across the room to his bag, ruffling through before finding what he was looking for. it's only when he gets on a knee that you comprehend what's happening, "i know i haven't been the most promising husband material but i promise, it will only get better from here. i've made the mistake of not doing this earlier and i can't wait to make you mine forever. so, y/n, will you marry me?"

with that, he opens the black box in his hands, revealing the precious diamond ring inside.

you've never fallen to your knees faster, taking his hands in yours, "yes, of course, i'll marry you, han! i–" you fall short of words when you look at the ring in his hands, "i had no idea you were planning on– god, i'm– i love you, han."

"part of the reason i wanted to come back faster was to do this," he tells you softly, slipping the ring onto your finger, "to finally propose to you." 

"finally?" you question, sensing some hidden meaning behind his words. 

"well, i have had this ring for a year now. i considered getting a newer model but this one was just too gorgeous." he takes your left hand in his, "and it looks prettier on you than i could have ever imagined."

"a year?" you ask in disbelief, "han! you– why didn't you tell me?" you feel stupid really, knowing how long he'd planned on marrying you for real. his love for you looms over you and you can't help but feel lightheaded. 

"because i didn't think it was the right time yet. i was wrong about that, of course. any time is right with you. i just needed to make you mine." 

you throw your arms around him, tearing up again, "yoon jeonghan, god, you make me crazy."

"so is that a good crazy, as in you'll write happy love songs about me again or… as in i make you want to scream and shout?"

"honestly, a bit of both," you laugh against his shoulder, "and about the happy love songs… i think you should know but i wrote some really depressing songs while you were away. yves loves them so they'll end up on the next album but i know you don't necessarily like them so–"

"what are you talking about? i love all of your songs."

"han," you kiss his cheek with a smile, "you don't have to lie. i know you feel weird about them. and that's okay. but i hope you know, i'm in a different space when i write those, and i will continue to write those. but they don't reflect the truth in any way, okay?"

he narrows his eyes, his lips pouty, "you mean to say i'm not good enough for you to make you happy for the rest of you life?"

"that is not what i said, babe, and you know it," you laugh again, letting him pull you onto his lap. he kisses you once and then twice. "if you say so, love." 

you spend your first night engaged to jeonghan the best way possible: talking to him. you lay down next to him, in your pyjamas, feeling fuller than ever. he tells you everything he'd thought or done in the past few months, scrolling through his camera roll for reference and kissing you whenever you'd have a giggling reaction. when it was your turn, you pulled up your notes app with lyrics from the past few months and read some select ones out for him.

"oh, oh, and the way i was gonna introduce this one was like this," you clear your throat as if taking on your stage persona, "this one's called no one's prettier because no one's prettier than my boy." 

you fall into a laughing fit with jeonghan, a slight blush on his cheeks when he pulls you close, "someone's down bad for me, huh?"

"yes, sir, i am," you say back, smugly, "i love my boy, sorry, my fiancé so much and i just can't shut the fuck about him."

"god, say that again."

"what? that i can't shut the fuck up about my pretty fiancé? my adorable loverboy? my honest and reliable husband?" the last word feels so right on your tongue when uttered for jeonghan, even though you'd never said it before.

"you're my everything, love," mumbles jeonghan with a big smile, kissing you sqaure on the mouth. 

–

"...so the past few months have been a rough trek for the band," you speak into the microphone, looking onto the solemn crowd with a soft smile, "and when i say the band, i really just mean me. i think i aged by like ten years." the crowd laughs. 

"but i came out stronger, and more engaged than ever," you wiggle your left hand at the crowd, throwing a smile at jeonghan at the front, watching with a smitten grin. "so here's a new song i wrote. it's called everything because my love is everything to me." 

when your set ends, you rush to jeonghan's arms and before you can ask him he'd liked the new song, he kisses your hands. "that was perfect, love. i've never felt more seen by a song." 

you let him shower you with kisses as you walk him through the lyrics a little. you're in the middle of explaining the bridge when you're interrupted by a call of your name. 

"y/n?"

you turn around to find wonbin standing before with a rose in his hand. "oh, hi, wonbin!" 

jeonghan doesn't do anything to hide the dislike on his face for the man. after all, you'd told him about everything that happened that night at the club and had barely managed to calm him down after. "hey," he nods at jeonghan who simply raises his brows at him.

wonbin glances at jeonghan's arm around your waist and sighs. "congratulations on your engagement, y/n," he holds out the rose, "and i'm sorry about everything that happened with us. i hope you know it's only because i have nothing but admiration for you. and maybe one day–" 

"thank you for your kind words, wonbin," jeonghan cuts him off, taking the rose and handing it to you with a small smile. "but we need to be going somewhere. sorry. see you around. maybe at the wedding?" 

as you walk away from wonbin, you chuckle at jeonghan, "didn't know you were still worked up about that guy?"

"of course i am! he tried to take advantage of you in a hard time! i'm just too pretty to get into a fight or i would've thrown hands long ago."

you laugh as you kiss him on the cheek, "right, of course. my baby, let's go home." 

[nothingbutnowhere]

Paging Doctor Riley!

18+

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x reader

~3.9k words

Tags: 18+ Explicit, medical pelvic examination roleplay, 'virgin' roleplay, reader is mentioned to masturbate with toys frequently, mentioned reader has received previous gynecological care, glove kink, praise kink, fingering, lube, squirting, cunnilingus, tit play, fingers in mouth, unprotected PiV, light manhandling, multiple reader orgasms, reader referred to as 'good girl' with no other gendered language, post sex banter, if I've missed anything that needs mentioning please let me know

Prologue 1 | Prologue 2

It's just a routine exam, you think to yourself, you've done this before, it's going to be fine.

That doesn't stop your heart from pounding in your chest as you sit and wait in the exam room. You're wearing the typical smock with a sheet over your legs for cover, but it's not enough, your nipples are definitely visible through the thin fabric. The cool air of the room peaks goosebumps over your legs and arms.

Two firm knocks rap against the door and you flinch, head snapping towards it.

It opens.

Oh no.

"Good afternoon miss."

He's hot.

"Hi," you squeak.

He's tall, muscles bulging from his white lab coat, carrying himself with perfect posture as he walks over to you.

"Doctor Riley," he says, holding his hand out for you to shake.

His eyes meet yours, deep brown, intense and focused over the blue surgical mask that covers the lower part of his face.

You introduce yourself, thankfully moving on autopilot, as you reach out and shake his hand with as much poise as you can muster. His hand is large, strong and warm, a contrast to your shaky, clammy one. The watch on his wrist probably costs more than your annual paycheck.

Before you're unpinned from his gaze, he looks you over, gaze neutral. He turns to the desk, but it doesn't do much to calm your nerves.

"You're here for a routine exam," he says as he logs in to the computer.

It's not even framed as a question, god this man might kill you. His voice is deep and measured, and clinical.

"Yes."

You try not to stare at his hands that minify the mouse and keyboard as he clicks around, typing a few things.

"Are you currently sexually active?"

The question settles a sense of dread in your tummy. You know it's routine but you hate admitting it, especially now to your hot doctor who now knows you can't get laid. You send a small plea to the universe to quell your embarrassment.

"No. Never."

He doesn't so much as blink, continuing to stare at the screen while he clicks boxes.

"Do you masturbate?"

Well you've never been asked this before. Is it even an appropriate question?? After a second too long you answer.

"Yes."

"How frequently?"

If it's possible to die from embarrassment, well, you'll find out.

"Um, depends."

"Roughly how many times per week?"

There's a joke there, but not one you're brave enough to make. The number is very high and you feel the need to lie, because that kinda makes your lack of sexual activity more embarrassing. But lying to a medical professional seems like a bad idea.

"Five to seven."

He doesn't miss a beat.

"Any specific concerns you have today?"

Yeah embarrassing myself in front of you, you think, though it's too late for that.

"No."

He stands and walks away for a few moments to wash his hands.

This is great, everything is fine. Think of anything else than what's about to happen, literally anything else, just don't think about-

Your efforts fail terribly, as all you can picture, all you can feel is his hands on you, thinking about him thinking about your masturbating. Which he's definitely not, because this is his job! People tell him that all day, surely there's no way he dwells on it. 

You shift on the bed, the cold sweat of anxiety is only making you more miserable. The subtle rub of your thighs sends some... extra sensations up your spine. Oh god, are you already aroused? You hope not. The lube will help disguise it. It's fine, probably. Stimulation is often met with arousal, a concession you can make while ignoring the fact that he hasn't touched you yet.

He returns and you watch as he pulls on the blue nitrile gloves. They fit tightly, requiring an extra tug to situate, and he lets the material snap.

Is he fucking with you? He has to be fucking with you. 

"Lay back, feet up on the bed apart, and move to the edge."

His instructions definitely aren't though. They're firm but not unkind and you don't have to think to follow them. The cool air of the room is uncomfortable on your exposed skin and your knees try and awkwardly close.

"Legs open," he reminds.

They do.

The blanket on your legs prevents you from seeing him as he sits down in front of you, but you're completely exposed to him now.

This whole thing is starting to feel like a fever dream. A dreamy doctor about to feel you up, good lord, you need to get a grip.

"Take deep breaths. Try to relax, it'll make this much easier," he says, voice softer now.

Fuck. You were never good at hiding your emotions, he probably thinks you're just anxious. Honestly that's a better scenario than your current predicament of embarrassed arousal. One, then two deep breaths later, you're mildly more relaxed.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yeah." Sure why not, we don't have all day.

"Good."

You swallow audibly.

"Light touch on the inner thigh, then the vulva. External then internal examination."

You've done this before, it's fine. 

His gloved fingers make gentle contact with your skin, but the small twitch in your leg only pushes into him further. After a moment his they slide down and brush against your pussy.

You stare pointedly up at the ceiling, forcing your diaphragm into slow breaths.

His warm fingers parting your labia have no business being this gentle. The tip of one large finger strokes slow between the inner and outer, on one side then the other. You had no idea you could be so sensitive, and have to grind your teeth to prevent a shiver of pleasure from making your legs shake.

"Healthy tissue, very good," he hums after a few moments.

Your throat is too dry to respond.

He doesn't move on though, continues to feel and stroke and press, avoiding your clit. None of this feels very clinical, but then again your brain is scrambled eggs. The gentle touch feels so good, no one except for you has done this, and even you haven't gone this slow, usually opting to go straight for the kill with fingers or a vibrator on your clit. It's an examination but it feels like... More than that somehow. Adoration.

How bad would it be to just relax into it? It's not a bad thing to enjoy touch, even though this isn't the most opportune time for it.

"That's good, just relax."

His voice is calm and reassuring. See? Not so bad.

He spreads your lips again and runs one finger through your slit. You can feel the tell tale slip confirming your arousal, knocking some sense back into you because you're at the doctor's office! What the hell are you doing, enjoying your pelvic exam, getting off from your doctor who is none the wiser. Well, not anymore. You hope he doesn't say anything.

"Bit of arousal at stimulation. Very common."

You're mortified, frozen to the bed.

"I'm sorry," you say, the only thing you can think to say.

"Nothing to worry about."

"Ok," your voice comes out as a whisper.

You want to believe him. Unfortunately, neither your embarrassment of being caught enjoying a clinical exam nor his reassurance does anything to change the fact that your body is thrumming with warm pleasure.

His hand rests on your lower belly. You expect the internal examination to start now but his thumb strokes the skin above your clit, far too gentle to be doing much examining. One, two passes then his thumb runs over your clit.

A shiver runs though your body uninhibited, and you have to cover your mouth to keep from crying out. The intoxicating ball of pleasure sits heavy in your stomach.

"Very sensitive," he says, though maintaining his clinical composure his voice is definitely lower than it has been

His thumb then presses down right above your clit and pulls the hood back ever so gently.

You're suspended, not breathing, ready for his touch and the ever tightening band in your tummy to snap.

But he gently lowers it back down and removes his hand.

"Perfect. Moving to the internal exam now."

His voice sounds mildly strained. 

Very good. Perfect. 

It wouldn't matter how he sounded when he called you that. Well, technically he was calling your vulva that... Did that make it better or worse?

A cap clicking open and closed recalls your attention.

Internal exam, right. You can handle that. Definitely. No problem. You haven't been thinking about his fingers inside you the whole time, not at all.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Yes."

You sound strained too.

"Touch on the inner thigh."

His fingers are slightly wet with lube but not cold. Once again he slides his fingers down, leaving a little wet trail in their wake. He swipes fingers over your opening, though you probably don't need the lube at all. 

"Two fingers. Let me know if it's uncomfortable."

You feel them start to press against you, he's slow and gentle like before. The initial press just past your lips is fine. But the stretch is too much.

"Wait"

He stops and pulls away immediately.

"It's, um, too much, maybe just... Start with one?"

It's painfully embarrassing to voice. Sure the doctor can stay clinical since this is his job but the innuendo- if you can even call it that, you're literally asking for one finger in your pussy- probably isn't lost on him.

"Of course."

He begins again.

"Touch," he says, hand resting on your thigh for a second longer before moving down.

One finger slides in easier. He's still slow and gentle which only makes it feel more intimate. He slides out, maybe brushing a little more firmly against your g spot than necessary, but you're already swollen around his fingers, it's probably just inevitable.

Two fingers start to push in a little easier. You're taking deep steady breaths, focusing on being relaxed and not clamping down to give more stimulation on your g-spot, grind, and come, like your brain screams to do.

"That's it, nice and easy."

The reassurances makes it worse and you make the mistake of picturing what's happening- two of his thick, gloved fingers glistening with lube and your slick sliding into your wet, swollen pussy, expensive looking watch on his wrist. At the same time he presses past your g-spot which makes you clench involuntarily. Fuck.

"Alright?"

"Yeah," your voice cracks.

To your horror, this time the embarrassment makes the arousal more intense, more urgent. Your brain knows your hand has been shown, it seems to think there's no point in hiding.

"Response to stimulation is normal."

Oh you want to respond alright. You feel every millimeter, during the few moments it takes for his fingers to be fully inserted. It's a pleasant fullness, his fingers reach deeper and are wider than your own. The glove tries to be the barrier that keeps this from being intimate and sexual but it's only backfiring, arousal hot and pulsing inside you.

"Going to place a hand on your lower abdomen and press."

"Ok."

You try to relax, focus on the pleasantness rather than the arousal, but it's difficult with his hand pressing down, moving soft and gentle, glove crinkling and rasping quietly over your skin. After several presses his hand rests fully on your lower stomach, thumb brushing lower and lower, over the sensitive skin above your clit once again. Your brain is buzzing, body scorching, daring him to do it.

His thumb rolls gently over your clit.

You finally allow yourself to moan. If he's going to provide stimulation, you're going to give him a response.

"Fuck," you say, breathless.

He stills but doesn't pull away.

"Want me to stop?"

"No"

His fingers curl into your g-spot, and he finally starts to give proper, firm circles over your clit.

"Gonna- oh my god-" you moan.

Your cunt spasms around his fingers, electricity sparking through your body but it's not nearly enough, barely enough to take the edge off.

"One," he says, but before you can process the implication, his fingers start moving inside you and yeah that's it. Stroking instead of just pressing into your g-spot, other hand continuing to circle on your clit.

After a few moments there's pressure building up behind the tingling of the incoming orgasm. It's coming at you fast, you know it's going to hit hard. You've only heard of this sensation before but it's too late to stop it, too late to try and say anything because by the time you're opening your mouth all you can do is cry out as your toes curl, body releasing the pressure and you feel liquid running down your ass. You've fucking squirted on your doctor, and he's dragging you through the rest of your orgasm with his fingers on your clit. He pulls away when you squirm from overstimulation.

"Good, two," you hear him breathe, voice no longer clinical and professional and the low growl makes your thighs twitch besides his head.

You gasp as you feel his face pressing into your thigh- and to your twisted amalgamation of horror and arousal- it's wet, slicking your thighs with what can only be your own squirt as his lips press slow, messy kisses down, closer and closer to your pussy. Your eyes are closed but you hear him slip off the stool he was sitting on, and feel as he guides your legs over his shoulders, low enough that he's probably kneeling on the ground in front of you. He sighs when you relax and let the solid weight of them rest comfortably. He kneels up and your hips lift up off the bed, partially folding you over. One strong arm wraps around your leg snugly, hand gripping your skin like you'll slip away if he doesn't.

You can surmise what's coming as his lips trail further and further down but could never actually anticipate the feeling of his mouth on you, warm and wet and consuming. Following the same methodology as his fingers, his tongue and lips slowly explore every centimeter of skin, dragging through, over, and between, taking your lips into his mouth and sucking. You moan, eyes squeezing shut, hands gripping your smock for grounding as you resist the urge to push into his mouth. You almost lose it when he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking over it before pressing his lips to it over and over like a kiss, opening and suckling. You're dazed, obviously never having experienced this before but vaguely think this'll probably be the best you'll ever get.

His tongue slides down, starts to circle your opening, dipping in briefly where your slick and his spit has gathered.

"Taste so fuckin' good," he says, almost to himself, mouth close to your pussy so you feel the vibrations.

"Knew you would the second I saw you. Sweet thing, all for the taking on my exam table."

His words are filthy. You begin to moan but are interrupted by his tongue sliding in.

You gasp, eyes flying open, hands instinctively reaching down, only to meet the blanket resting over his head. There's only a half second hesitation about pulling it off before you do. You're not prepared to see his face, or rather his eyes flicking up to meet yours, tongue buried inside you. The focus and intensity are so different than earlier, maybe a little softer now that he's feeling you, holding you, and pleasuring you, not examining and observing.

His hand clenches tighter into your thigh, pushes his face further into you with a groan, eyes fluttering. You can't help but slide your hand through his hair and encourage him to stay right there, keep doing whatever the fuck he's doing with his tongue that's making you lose control, pant, and grind into his face. His hand reaches up your body to squeeze and play with your tits, smearing slick across your chest.

That's one way to get a breast examination.

It takes several minutes for your orgasm to build this time but he doesn't seem to care, working you steadily and thoroughly. And soon enough you're there, body hot with molten pleasure, you're going to come again,

"Close-!"

But there's an ache that wants more. All caution has been long since thrown to the wind and it doesn't even occur to you to be embarrassed to beg.

"Please, Doctor Riley, want you- fuck."

"Want me to what?"

"Want you to fuck me, please."

His hand slides down back to your clit and rubs firmly until your back is arching and you're nearly suffocating him with your thighs as pleasure rushes though you uninhibited. 

"Good fucking girl, three." 

Finally you drop back, breathing hard, still tingly, vision unfocused. He lifts your legs off of his shoulders and gently settles them back. You look up at him, now unmasked. Some scaring on his face and definitely handsome, to you anyway.

He doesn't put on a show to undress. All you can do is watch as he simply stands, and pulls his cock out.

Wow. He's perfect. Big, which makes sense considering his stature. If the look in his eyes with his face dripping with your slick is any indication you're about to get fucked within an inch of your life.

"Gonna make this nice and comfortable for you yeah?" he says, uncapping and squeezing a generous amount of lube out.

"Ever used anything more than fingers?"

"Yeah, I have toys" you squeak out.

His lips twitch in what you think is an uncharacteristic smile, though it's not friendly. The gleam in his eyes should scare you.

"Specifically?"

"...vibrators and dildos."

"Good girl."

Something absolutely glows inside of you when he says those two words, and you're shameless preening in it. And continues to glow as his hand strokes his cock for a few moments. It could have been an hour with the way you're enraptured by his gloved hand, studying how exactly he strokes, twists his wrist and thumbs over and around the head.

"Hold your legs back behind your knees."

It takes a moment, but you get your jellied legs to comply. Once you're spread he steps closer, hand squeezing your ass as he rubs his cock up and down your slit. You shudder from the overstimulation on your clit and are ready to beg again but he has no intention of toying with you. His thumb presses down on his cock until the head catches on your opening. He stares down at where you meet while beginning to push in. But his eyes catch yours after a moment, he's trying to concentrate on your face but part of his brain is focused elsewhere. You try an experimental squeeze around his cock and he groans, eyes closing for a moment, control slipping. That's probably dangerous but honestly you want him to eat you alive- not that he hasn't already eaten you.

A few more shallow strokes and he's pressed fully into you, not even moving but his thickness alone is able to press against all the good spots inside you.

"Please- I'm ready," you whine, trying and failing to grind against him with your ass so tightly squeezed in his hands.

The first drag of his hips backwards makes you both moan. He starts to roll his hips deep and slow, watching you intensely, but you can barely keep your eyes open on account of them rolling back in your head. Some unknown spot deep inside you pulses, and throbs, and aches as his cock hits it again and again.

"That's it sweetheart, like it nice and deep, yeah?"

You nod enthusiastically, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes.

There's some sort of sounds in the room which you can't place until his hands come off of your ass, and he's shoving two fingers in your open, panting mouth.

You exclaim, or try to, but quickly give into sucking shamelessly and laving your tongue over and between his fingers. The taste of lube isn't the best, but ignorable in favor of remnants of your own slick, his cock.

"Don't mind if you bite," he growls.

He pulls out all the way, then his hips snap forward quickly and firmly, and your teeth scrape his fingers. His cock twitches and you feel precum add to the lube and slick inside you. You're jostled around for a second, his knee coming up on the bed to give him better leverage. And then he really starts to fuck you, pounding you into the mattress, head kissing your cervix at this angle, so fucking deep.

"Good girl, fuck, you must play with a lot of toys, takin' it this good."

You agree nodding your head, mumbling unsuccessfully around his fingers, wishing you could tell him how good this was, so good to just lie back and not have to deal with fucking yourself. Since you can't, you squeeze your cunt as tight as you can around him, causing him to fall on one elbow beside you with a snarled fuck. You're so close now, face directly above yours. It's far too intimate, especially starting into his captivating eyes, pupils blown wide, framed by pretty blonde eyelashes. He slides his fingers out of your mouth and reaches down to play with your clit. You throw your head back as another orgasm threatens to overtake you, but his hand pulls away.

"Not yet"

Your head tilts back and you pout. He's staring at your lips, eyelids heavy.

"Kiss me."

Both of your arms come up, one around his shoulders and the other hand cradles the back of his neck, pulling him down to meet your lips.

It's messy and it's good. Doesn't seem to matter that you have no experience when you're both too fucked out to coordinate anyway. Tongues against lips and teeth, it doesn't matter when he tastes good, kinda like you, but mostly his own.

His hand slips down to your clit again, soft pinches and rolls taking you to the precipice.

"C'mon, come on my cock, give me four, be a good girl"

"Oh- close- oh, fuck!," you gasp, sinking your teeth into his bottom lip to keep from screaming.

You inadvertently pull his hair, which you think is what causes his orgasm, slowing his thrusts, twitching cock spilling into you. The sensation is novel and your pleasure boils over. Your legs spasm, your core clenches, pleasure hits you in waves, whiting out your vision.

...

You come to with Simon nearly crushing you with his weight.

"Si you're squishing me."

"Hm?" he grunts, half asleep already.

"Roll over."

He does roll, but takes you with him and holds you tight, preventing you from extracting yourself from the bed.

"You good?" he asks.

"Yeah," you mumble into his chest.

"Lemme hold you a bit."

"It's sweaty."

"Doctor patient privileges."

"That is not what that means."

His arms only settle heavier on you, now ungloved hand rubbing your back gently.

"Shh, relax with me for a second."

Your breaths sync after a while, the slow exhales calming your hammering heart.

"Did I do good?" he asks quietly.

"Of course you did," you say, snuggling into his chest, "Five stars. Excellent beside manner. Very thorough."

"Only 'cause I had such a lovely patient. Won't be getting any referrals from me though."

"S'fine with me. Love you."

Simon gives you a long kiss on the forehead as if to say, I love you too.

...

More Simon

I do NOT consent for my works, part of my works, or my ideas to be used for ANY form of AI.

A/N: Thanks for reading the first smut I've ever posted!

[hayleythesugarbowl]

I need more ian hecox in my life!!

can I please get a fluff of them revealing feelings somehow through shayne's guess your celebrity crush video 🙏

or maybe ian winning their what would *blank* do? video (because he knows them so well 😊) and someone else in the cast making reader realize that he has big o'l feelings for them!!!

I love your work so so much!! 🫶

Celebrity Crush || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: you have liked ian for some time now and despite your cast mates attempts at telling you that ian feels the same way, you don’t believe them. that is, until some interesting things are revealed through a video

word count: 1.8k

warnings: none

a/n: ahh i hope you enjoy this darling!! i kinda went with both of these ideas so i hope you like what i did 🤭

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

     “And for the win—or, for second place, because Ian is in the lead by eleven points—if I could only eat one thing for the rest of my life, what would it be?”

     You smiled at the contestants, waiting. You were almost done filming ‘What Would (Y/n) Do?’ and Ian was smoking the other two competitors.

     Spencer and Courtney sat on either side of Ian, thinking on your most recent question. Ian was already writing something down on his whiteboard.

     So far, he had known almost everything about you. What your worst memory was, what item of clothing you’d want to wear if you weren’t scared to, what kind of cereal you most identified with. 

     You hadn’t known he remembered all of this stuff—some of it being things you’d only mentioned once or a really long time ago. You had known Ian for years. But, then again, you’d known Courtney and Spencer just as long.

     “Okay,” Courtney said, “I’m ready!”

     “Why don’t you start us off then,” you turned to her. “What food would I want to eat for the rest of my life?”

     “I said that one thing you get from Starbucks because I see you with it every morning,” they said, flipping their board. “And then I drew you at the bottom, see?”

     “Good answer,” you nodded at them. “And good artistry. Spencer?” 

     “I wrote pizza ‘cause your basic,” Spencer shrugged and everyone off-camera laughed. “And I think this game is bogus and rigged and also Ian cheated.”

     You giggled. “Guess who’s not getting any points this round? Anyway, Ian, last but certainly not least?”

     “Ok, remember back in 2017 when we went to that buffet for Keith’s birthday? You had that sandwich there that you said you’d sell your soul to eat for the first time again, so I went with that.”

     “I quit,” Spencer put the cap on his pen. “Courtney, you wanna go get some lunch?”

     They laughed, sharing a look. 

     You were too busy being shocked. You couldn’t believe he had remembered that. You hadn’t even remembered that. 

     “Wow Ian, I have to give you, like, 10 points for that because even I would’ve forgotten that but you’re so right!”

     “Courtney,” you continued. “I’m giving you 5, because I do love Starbucks. And Spencer gets none.”

     You smiled sweetly at Spencer and he flipped you off. You rolled your eyes at him.

     “And that means,” you finished. “With a total of 207 points—which might be the most we’ve ever had on here—Ian wins!”

     Everyone clapped and you began to do the outro, going on autopilot as you told the viewers to subscribe and click on the videos at the bottom of their screen.

     When the shoot was over, everyone began to disperse, all busy with different videos to film and edit.

     “Congratulations,” you told Ian. “I can’t believe you knew some of that stuff.”

     “Hey, what can I say,” he shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. “I pay attention. And you’re a very interesting person.”

     “I think we learned from all of the deatails here today that I’m not an interesting person,” you joked. 

     “Well, call me boring because I’m interested,” Ian said.

     You smiled, trying your hardest not to blush. You might have had a teeny, tiny crush on Ian ever since you had begun working at Smosh. 

     You stayed like that for a moment, before Ian said something about having to film a video and you said your farewells.

     He walked away and you turned around to find Courtney and Spencer waiting for you.

     “Um, what was that?” Courtney gestured to the set. 

     “What was what?” You asked them.

     “I think Courtney means the fact that Ian basically just wrote your biography,” Spencer added, putting his hands in his pockets. 

     “He knows you better than you know you!” Courtney exclaimed. They waggled their eyebrows, saying in a sing-song voice,  “I think he likes you.”

     “Dude’s obsessed,” Spencer piped in. 

     You shrugged. “What? No! We’ve known each other for a long time, that’s all.”

     “I’ve known you for a long time, and I wouldn’t have known that the item you wish you hadn’t gotten rid of was the necklace you wore to VidCon in 2018,” Courtney put their hands on their hips. 

      Okay, so they had a fair point. How did Ian remember all of this stuff about you? You refused to believe it was because he had feelings for you. Both Court and Spencer knew about your long-time crush on Ian, and they were probably just being nice.

     “He’s our boss, remember? He has to know his employees well,” you defended.

     “(Y/n), he didn’t know my first name was Charles until like last week,” Spencer said. “And yet he knows what you almost called the fish you won in second grade—which, by the way, Rover? That’s a dog name and I think Kevin is much better.”

     “Spencer’s right, my guy,” Courtney patted your shoulder. “Not about the fish thing—but Ian does, in fact, have a good, old-fashioned crush on you.”

     “This is ridiculous,” you said. “Just because I like him, doesn’t mean he likes me. And after one video of him knowing some facts about me, you think you have it all figured out?”

     “Oh it’s not just this video,” Courtney said. “You think Ian leaves little notes on all of our desks? Do you think he gets all of us coffee every day? Do you think he smiles that big when all of any of us enter a room?”

     You opened your mouth to speak, but stopped. You kind of had thought he did all of those things for everyone. You just thought he was a nice person—it was part of what attracted you to him—but you didn’t equate it to him thinking you were anything all that special. 

     “And you guys are sure?” Was all you said.

     Courtney smiled knowingly. “Yes. It’s honestly adorable. Trust me, from our perspective, Ian totally has it bad for you.”

     “That or he cheats at games, which we still haven’t completely ruled out,” Spencer teased. 

     Could all of this really be true? You tried to think back on all of your previous interactions with Ian. He had always been kind to you, interested in what you had to say, complimentary and supportive. In truth, you had mostly been blinded by your own attraction to Ian to every really focus on how he acted towards you. 

     “If Ian has feelings for me,” you stated, “which I’m not saying I think he does, what would I even do?”

     “Ask him out,” Courtney shrugged. “It’s about time, you’ve been in love with each other for years now.”

     Were you really going to do this? You felt your heart beating faster, your stomach already flipping at the thought of telling Ian how you feel. But, if your friends were right, then maybe he would feel the same way. 

     “Okay,” you looked at both of them. “Okay, I’ll talk to him.”

     “Yay!” Courtney cheered.

     “Go get ‘em,” Spencer added.

     You walked off the set, and as you left you heard Spencer talking to Courtney as they made their way in the opposite direction.

     “I’m just saying, I think I should have at least gotten a couple points for Kevin!”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     Finding Ian was a lot harder than you had thought. He was busy filming all day, and you could never find a foot time to catch him in between shoots.

     Whenever you did see him, he would smile at you shyly and then suddenly need to be somewhere. You thought he was acting a bit weird, and it might have just been his busy schedule and the tiredness that accompanied it, but he almost seemed…nervous for something? 

     Finally, you gave up trying to talk to Ian and sat down against the wall to watch as they filmed the ‘Can Shayne Guess our Celebrity Crush?’ video.

     From the sound of it, Shayne was nearing the end of the video. You only partially listened as you scrolled on your phone. 

     “Well, damn,” you heard Shayne say. “Really thought I had that one. Then again, did I really except to get someone from art department right?”

     “Moving on to the next set of crushes,” he continued. “We have Bridget Mendler—good choice. Kesha—I think I know who this is already. And…”

     Shayne paused, and the whole studio became quiet. You looked up.

      “…(Y/n),” Shayne finished. You looked towards the monitor, seeing the images of the two other celebrities and yourself on the screen.

     Shayne looked at you off-camera. “This list is crazy. I’m going to take a wild guess and say this is Ian.”

     His eyes landed on a spot in the distance and you followed them, seeing Ian leaning against the wall, a ways away from you. You searched his face, but he was looking anywhere but you.

     “Is it Ian?” Shayne pointed at the screen and, sure enough, a picture of Ian’s face popped up. 

     You felt the breath leave your lungs. What had just happened? Had Ian just admitted to having a crush on you through a video? 

     Back on set, Shayne was running his hands through his hair, saying, “Well, that’ll give the fans something to think about…”

     But you could only watch Ian, making your way to where he was standing. You were aware of everybody’s eyes on you.

     “Really?” Was all you said once you reached him, your voice coming out as a whisper.

     Ian smiled at you. “Hey, you’re on famous birthdays, I think that counts as a celebrity.”

     That was all the encouragement you needed. Just like that, you kissed him. And he kissed you back, wrapping his arms around you. 

    “Yeah baby!” You heard someone shoot, and you pulled away to see Courtney beaming at you.

     “I promise I didn’t know that was going to happen,” Spencer grinned, holding his hands up from his spot by the computer. “I don’t actually go through these things before we shoot.”

     You giggled, turning back to Ian. 

     “Did you really not know?” He asked you. “I always thought I was kind of obvious.”

     “To everyone but me, I think,” you told him, chuckling. “I was to busy having feelings for you.”

     “And look at us now,” Ian joked, putting his arm around your shoulder. You couldn’t stop smiling. 

     “I just wish I’d had the guts to put you as one of my celebrity crushes,” you told him. 

     “Who would I have beat out?” He asked you. “Austin Butler?”

     “Let’s not get hasty,” you teased. 

     But suddenly you had an idea. You walked over to where Spencer sat. “Hey, Spence? Have you guys done my list yet?”

     “Not yet,” he whispered so Shayne wouldn’t hear him. 

     You turned back to look at Ian, who was watching you like he had finally found you and didn’t want to lose you. 

    “Can you still edit those things? Because I have a last minute adjustment,” you told him, smiling as you showed him a picture of Ian. 

     “Let’s give the fans even more to think about.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you had fun with this one. check out my other ian fics if you want more like this 💋

[wqnwoos]

wonwoo had one job and it did not include falling for you.

literally, he had one job. working part-time at the campus café was his way of making some extra cash — for games and snacks and whatever. hoshi had suggested selling feet pictures, but wonwoo wasn’t quite sure he wanted to air out his dogs like that.

anyway. the point was that falling for you was not part of the plan! especially because he has the same, regular conversation with you every time you walk through those doors. (which is a lot. actually, he’s kind of concerned about your caffeine intake, because it does not seem healthy.)

but the first time he saw you — it was late november, and he’d just started at the café. you had sailed straight in from the cold, bundled up warm — bright eyed, hair in a gorgeous tangle, and laughter spilling from your lips as you joined a gaggle of girls in the corner.

it was only in the weeks after that that he realised you were a regular. the bunch of girls with you weren’t always there — sometimes they showed up, but mostly you came alone.

like now. when you walk in today, wonwoo notices a flower stuck in your hair. spring is blooming — and with that comes the acknowledgement that this crush has lasted months.

he doesn’t know what to do with that realisation, so he shakes it off, offering you his usual smile — determinedly ignoring joshua’s meaningful nudge to his ribs.

you greet him with your usual cheerful enthusiasm. “hii wonwoo! how’s your day going?”

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get tired of the way his name sounds coming from your lips. “not bad,” he hums. “what about you?”

“it’s actually been really great so far,” you share excitedly. “you know the massive bit of grass in the courtyard? the daisies there are blooming. they’re so pretty.”

you’re prettier. the line comes to wonwoo instinctively, but he doesn’t say it. instead, he gestures to the tiny white flower in your hair with a smile. “yeah, i can see you liked them.”

your lips turn upwards then, slightly sheepish as you reach up to untuck the flower, resting it in your hand. “pretty, right? can i get my usual?”

i never really stood a chance, wonwoo thinks to himself as he taps in your order, against a smile like that.

you drop your usual one dollar in the tip jar once you’ve paid. but then you stop for a second, dithering before you move over to where joshua is making your drink.

before wonwoo knows it, you’re holding out the flower to him with a shy smile. “here,” you say, voice tentative.

his hands act on autopilot — which is great, because his brain is malfunctioning right now. he takes the daisy from you with flushed cheeks that he really hopes you can’t see; but he definitely can’t hide the growing smile on his face. “w— thank you,” he manages, finally, gazing at the dainty flower and then you with soft, delighted eyes.

“and — uh, maybe — ” you flounder for words, your cheeks heating as you push a folded piece of paper towards him, having fished it from your backpack. “maybe you could… text me?”

wonwoo has never beamed so fast in his life.

an / two shy little DORKS. they’re kinda cute tho <3 i hope you guys liked (let me know if you did !! i will literally love u forever)

[ladykailitha]

Sweet Home Indiana Part 8

I have finished the story (at long last! sheesh I can't believe how long this took me to get it done) and it has 10 chapters. And it has the happiest of endings. I couldn't stop smiling the whole time I was writing it.

Things appear hopeless, but Eddie and Chrissy start to find allies in their plight.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

****

Eddie woke up the next morning to a pounding head, an aching heart and signed divorce papers.

Of the three things the divorce papers were the worst.

So he did the only thing he could do in that moment, call Chrissy.

“Eddie!” she greeted. “I kinda expected a call before today. You know, being your fianceé and all.”

“Shit, Chris!” he murmured. “Is there someone there?”

She hummed her response.

“It been so hectic around here,” Eddie admitted. “And there was the fact that Steve wouldn’t give me a divorce.”

She sighed and he suddenly realized who was with her. “Come out here, tell them that we decided to have the wedding out here in Hawkins because that’s where all my family is. See if you can’t get an extension to plan the wedding.”

“Hold on, cher,” she murmured and put her hand over the speaker. He could hear her clearly but anything he said would be muffled.

Eddie stared down at the papers in his hand with a shattered heart. He could grieve once Chrissy’s dragon was slain.

A minute or so later she came back on.

“Okay, they’ve given me to the end of the month,” she said with a sigh of relief. “Just say the word and I’ll be down there in a flash.”

Eddie waited another moment or two before he said, “Are you alone now?”

Chrissy muttered, “One moment.” He heard the ding of the elevator door open and the sounds of a busy reception hall, then the sounds of a busy street.

She called for a taxi and once the door was closed behind her, she said, “All right, babe, what’s the problem.”

He opened his mouth to tell her but he just broke down.

“I–I thought I was happy in Seattle, but I’ve never felt more alive since coming back here. Seeing old friends, cruising familiar streets. It feels like home. When I first left I didn’t think there was anything in that town that would make me happy.” He let out a shuddering breath and ran his fingers through his hair. “I–I knew that the kids would all leave and they have. But Wayne is still here. Steve and Robin, too. The town has gotten softer. Something I never thought possible. I saw three same sex couples just vibing.”

He choked back a sob. “I thought everything I ever wanted was in Seattle and this trip was just about closing the doors that I left hanging open. Bu–but, oh god!” He threw his head back and covered his eyes. His lips quivered as the pain in his heart spread out through his chest. “Steve is still the one. I know, I know. I talk a lot of shit about love and there not being one person out there who’s your soulmate. but God, Chrissy. He’s it. I felt more myself the last three days then have the last five years.”

He let out another choking sob. “I don’t know what to do. He is like that first ray of sunlight after weeks of storms.”

“Oh, Eddie...” she cried.

“He signed the papers,” Eddie murmured. “And now I wish he hadn’t. I want to just tear up the papers and set fire to them. But I can’t do that to you. I won’t.”

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. Tell me what I can do and I’ll do it.”

He just sobbed and sobbed, forcing through the words that would tell her what he needed.

“Let me make a couple of phone calls, okay?” Chrissy said before hanging up.

Eddie murmured his thanks and then let her go. His brain went on autopilot and found himself on the pavement in front of the post office.

He stared at the mailbox in front of him in abject horror.

He had put the divorce papers in the mail and didn’t sign them himself.

****

Chrissy sighed. It was hard on Eddie she knew. He had spent the last decade running from himself and now he was face to face with the best parts of his past, not understanding why it felt so good.

She opened the file on Eddie’s divorce, the annulments had gone through just fine. It was just that one marriage.

She found what she was looking for and dialed the number.

“Sweetie’s Treats,” the female voice said in a faux cheerful customer service voice. “This is Robin what I can I get for you today?”

Chrissy took a deep breath and let out slow. “Hey, I’m Chrissy Cunningham, Eddie’s fianceé. I sorry, but I really need to talk to Steve.”

“Yeah...” Robin said. “No can do.”

Chrissy rubbed her her temple in frustration. “Eddie called me this morning in a hell of state and I just want to talk to Steve. It’s not anything bad, I guess I want to meet the person who has Eddie’s heart.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Robin said, “you can’t talk to him right now because he is working with the large stand mixer.”

Chrissy immediately pictured a KitchenAid mixer and huffed out her frustration. “Can’t he step away from it for a moment?”

“Sorry, no can do,” Robin said tersely. “He’s pouring in the sugar and has to put it in at specific intervals.”

Her temper was fraying with every passing moment with this woman. “Can I call his cellphone and you can hold it up to his ear?”

There was a bark of laughter. “That would also be a no. That thing has eaten three cellphones already and I’m not about to feed the beast another thanks.”

Chrissy blinked for a moment. “Just how big is this mixer anyway?”

This time the laughter was less bitter and more genuine.

“The size of a fifty gallon drum.”

“Oh!”

Robin cackled. “Yeah, when you have to make two hundred cookies, you aren’t going to be using a little electric hand mixer.”

“What kind of cookies?” she asked before she realized what was coming out of her mouth.

“Snickerdoodles,” she said, her grin evident even through the phone.

Chrissy shook her head. She was on a mission, damn it. She wouldn’t let let herself be distracted by baked goods!

“Okay,” she said, shoring herself up for a battle. “How about I talk to you and tell him what I said?”

“Sure,” Robin said. “I wouldn’t mind getting to know the girl who was the cause of Eddie’s bi awakening.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “So about that...”

There was silence on the line long enough that she pulled the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.

“Are you his beard?” came the quiet reply. “Is this a lavender wedding?”

A little bell went off above Chrissy head. Oh. Maybe this wasn’t as hopeless as she thought.

“Yes,” she said, biting the bullet. “But not in the way you think.”

She could almost picture the head tilt of the bird on the other end of the line when Robin said, “Oh? Do tell.”

“Give me a second,” Chrissy said. “My taxi just pulled up to my apartment and I need to pay the driver.”

“Sure.”

Chrissy paid the man and hurried up to the stairs to her apartment, she fitted her keys into the lock and tossed her purse and keys on the table next to the door.

“So here’s the sitch,” she said flopping on her sofa with a heavy sigh.

****

Eddie opened the little door on the front with wide eyes. The door prevented people from sticking his hand in and grabbing it. He grabbed his hair.

“Fuck, fuck!��� he cried. This day kept getting worse and worse. He opened the door again, hoping he could see a way to disable it.

He probably could, given the right tool. But as he was looking a little too closely another person walked by and eyed him suspiciously.

“Shit!” He looked down at himself and let loose a string of more colorful curse words.

Eddie looked like he was about to knock off the mailbox and make off with several felonies worth of someone else’s mail.

He was going to start crying again. He gripped his hair tightly as he paced back and forth.

He felt a hand on his elbow and he wasn’t be ashamed to say that the shriek that came out of him was the most emasculating sound in existence.

“Eddie,” Jonathan said. “Shit! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Once Eddie had landed back on his feet like the scaredy-cat he was, he whirled around to see the oldest Byers boy looking at him with such concern.

“Hey, Johnny,” he breathed. “I’m sorry. God, today is the worst.”

Jonathan huffed a laugh. “You know, you are the only one I’ve ever met who doesn’t call me Jonathan.”

Eddie blushed. “I call everyone nicknames. I can stop if you want.”

Jonathan shook his head. “It was an observation, not a criticism.”

“Someone’s been hanging out with Nancy Wheeler a little too much,” Eddie huffed, already feeling better in the quiet presence of this man.

Jonathan threw his head back and laughed. “I hope so, we’re getting married next year.”

Eddie snapped his fingers. “That’s right. You did tell me that. Shit, man it feels like a life time ago.”

“You still love Steve, don’t you?” he said gently.

Eddie opened his mouth to deny it, but snapped it shut. He waved his hand at the mailbox. “It doesn’t matter. He signed the divorce papers, but my dumbass forgot to sign them too. So I need to get them back, but I don’t how.”

Jonathan smiled and then held up one finger. He went into the post office and five minutes later came out with his mom who carried the biggest key chain he’d ever seen.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Joyce greeted softly. “Let’s get this back for you.”

Eddie told her what it looked like and who it was addressed to.

After a little bit of searching, she turned around with the manilla envelope and handed it back to him.

“Next time,” she said with a smile. “Just come in and ask and we’ll be happy to grab it for you.”

Eddie nodded, clutching it to his chest and thanking her profusely. He took Jonathan out to lunch for the rescue.

They took it and sat on a park bench away from everyone else.

“Thanks for the gallant rescue, man,” Eddie said around his bite of his sandwich. “I was going to have a full blown breakdown right there on Hawkins Main and it wouldn’t have been pretty.”

“It’s no problem,” Jonathan said. “I’m glad it worked out.” He nodded to the papers on the table between them. “You going to sign them?”

Eddie let out a long sigh. “I have to.”

“You keep saying that,” he huffed. “But I don’t think you do. Shit, Eddie. I saw you and him at the carnival and it was like time travel. Like I was transported back a decade when you were both happy and free. He had his face buried in those stuff animals you’d won for him and you looked at him like he’d hung the moon.”

Eddie shook his head. “Look, you can’t tell anyone about this. It’s technically a crime. But it’s the only choice we have. Chrissy was here on a school visa from Barbados and she usually gets a work visa for the summer. Only there was a mix up and she didn’t get her work visa and her school visa is for while she’s at school. Which considering it was only for three months, I figured as long as she didn’t say anything to anyone, she could skate on through.”

“I’m guessing that’s not what happened?” Jonathan pressed. He took a bite of sandwich and nudged Eddie to eat.

Eddie took another bite, but really didn’t taste it. He choked it down around the bile in his throat. He shook his head.

“She works at a law firm,” he said mournfully. “Their HR department found out pretty much immediately. They, of course, alerted Immigration and was told to find another way to get a visa or be sent back to Barbados.”

“Hence getting the married?” Jonathan suggested.

He nodded. “We can’t let anyone know, because then we could get into trouble for fraud or whatever. I do love her, but not like that. Not like Steve.”

Jonathan huffed a laugh. He was silent for a moment and then shook his head sadly. “He went up to Seattle, you know.”

Eddie’s head snapped up. “What? When?”

“Right after you settled up there and started tattooing,” Jonathan said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “He was there for a week. I think he went up there to ask you to come home. But when he found you, he also found a large city and a friendly LGBTQ community and he just couldn’t bare to ask you to return to homophobic Hawkins.”

Eddie’s lip quivered. He hadn’t known. His head spun as his world tilted off its axis.

“When he came back, he couldn’t really tell Robin the truth,” Jonathan continued. “That he couldn’t get up the courage to even see you closer than through the windows of the shop. So he told her he couldn’t find you and then vowed to make something of himself. Something you could be proud of.”

Tears slipped down Eddie’s cheeks and he pressed his hand to his mouth to keep the whimper that tried to escape between his teeth.

“The bakery...” he murmured.

Jonathan nodded. “Him and Robin starting working there together like they always do, to help save up for her to go to college.”

Eddie smiled, a weak, wet, little thing, but it was there. Steve and Robin, two peas in a pod. They always worked together since the summer after Steve graduated and Robin was about to start her senior year. They had worked at an ice cream parlor in the mall. When it burned down just a couple of months later due to shoddy workmanship, they had forged a friendship in literal fire.

“They weren’t intending to make it a permanent thing,” Jonathan continued, breaking into his thoughts. “But Steve’s good. He took a shop that only barely keeping itself in the black and made it into the thriving thing you see today.”

Eddie nodded. He was proud of Steve. And Robin. And all the things they managed to succeed in doing.

Jonathan hugged him tightly. “I won’t say to stay here with Steve and leave your financée to her fate, because that would be cruel and for all your faults, man, you aren’t cruel. And neither am I.”

Eddie let out a shuddering breath. And then another.

“You’ll do the right thing,” Jonathan said. “You might not figure it out right away, but somehow you always manage to get to the right thing in the end.”

Eddie finished his sandwich and thanked him for everything. Just being there when he needed someone.

And as he drove away from the park he felt lighter than he had in years.

****

I realize that that's probably not how visas work, but I'm just gonna hand wave that away for the drama.

Tag List: SIX SLOTS OPEN

Part 9 Part 10

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @ravenfrog @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @mac-attack19

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95

7- @blackpanzy @amazing-spiderkeys @oldpinghai @raisedbylibrarians @kultiras

8- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @steddie-as-they-go @captain--low @micheledawn1975 @thespaceantwhowrites

9- @blondie1006 @stripey82 @w1ll0wtr33 @mcenziehughes

[bitterkarmaa]

ye

This has been rotating in my head non-stop

‼️TW SEIZURE‼️

-

Sun had emphasized how important it was for everyone to be present during family movie night. Eclipse understood that, honestly. How would it be family movie night without the whole family?

He supposed that they’d just have to find that out tonight.

If he had to watch Air Bud one more goddamn time, he might just kill everyone in the room. And, contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t exactly want to do that.

So, he’s resolved himself to hide on the platform that overlooks the theater, peering in between the bars of the banister. His rays are retracted, the vibrant colors of his clothes hidden by a blanket that he has pulled over his shoulders. Plus, added bonus, it keeps him warm. Today isn’t a great day physically for him, so the extra comfort is appreciated.

When the soft chatters of everyone else begins to filter up to him from below, signaling his family’s arrival, he backs away from the banister and scuttles towards the door hidden amongst the various boxes and crates of equipment. With one last glance over his shoulder, he hears Rays quietly ask where he is, with Blood Moon’s more firm voice not far behind.

He lingers, one hand on the doorknob.

“What if he’s gotten himself hurt again? What if he’s stuck somewhere? What if-“

“Blood, he’s fine. He’s probably just skipping out on movie night because we aren’t watching one of his cheesy horror films.” Moon’s sharp voice cuts in, a sigh leaving his mouth as Blood Moon continues to grumble behind him.

“Hurt?” Rays’ soft, yet mortified tone paints a picture of his expression in Eclipse’s head: eyes wide, blanket pulled tightly over his shoulders, shaking fingers curled into the fabric. It’s almost enough to make Eclipse reveal himself and come down. Almost.

“Yeah, he’s kinda a danger magnet.” Moon admits, moving towards the staircase that leads up to the platform Eclipse is hidden on.

“I doubt he’s in danger, though. He usually gets paranoid when he’s doing stupid shit, but he’s been pretty chill lately. Have you tried calling him?”

Blood Moon pauses. “No.”

“Try that, then get back to me.”

Moon takes the stairs two at a time. Eclipse knows he likes to show off, since he only does it in front of others.

Tsk. I could do that, too.

Eclipse opens the door, slipping into the hallway behind. In a slight panic, he tugs on the handle, pulling it shut behind him as quickly as possible. Not long after, he hears Moon’s footsteps outside.

With a sigh of relief, he turns away from the door, facing the rest of the corridor.

He lets out half of a yelp before slapping his hands over his mouth, glaring daggers at the tall figure before him as Moon’s movements pause outside.

Familiar red eyes stare down at Eclipse, albeit dimmer than he remembers. He slowly uncovers his mouth as Moon continues on with his task, presumably getting the movie started.

“What are you doing here?” Eclipse hisses under his breath.

Kill Code blinks. Slowly, carefully, as if uncertain what the action’s purpose is. Acting on autopilot. Eclipse is further disturbed.

“…hello?”

Kill Code shakes its head slightly, letting out a huff. “My hall. You know this.”

Eclipse leans back, crossing his arms over his chest, reassured by Kill Code’s more familiar behavior. “You can’t own a hallway. I needed somewhere to hide. Can you help, or not?”

Kill Code narrows his eyes, his claws twitching at his sides. It sways precariously on unsteady paws.

Eclipse fights the urge to move forwards and steady him.

“Follow.” It grunts, turning around and beginning to saunter back down the hall. Eclipse hesitates a few moments before trailing behind, keeping his footsteps light in comparison to Kill Code’s heavy stomping.

It’s small things that catch his attention. The stumbles, the pauses. The way each step seems to take all of Kill Code’s energy. So much effort for a single movement.

Then, Eclipse jumps again, startled by the ringing of a call coming in. Kill Code flinches, too, tail lashing through the air as it turns to growl at Eclipse.

Eclipse stumbles back, Blood Moon’s contact flashing across his sight. He declines the call in an annoyed(and maybe frightened) frenzy, trying to move away, a snarky quip ready on his tongue to dismiss himself back to his sons. But a hand with long, sharp claws closes around his wrist, pulling him closer instead.

“S-Stop, stop! Dad-“ Eclipse grits out, trying to pry himself free from Kill Code’s grasp. For a moment, Kill Code remains still, gaze hauntingly hollow. Before long, however, it releases Eclipse, robotically leaning away once more.

“What is wrong with you right now? You’ve been off since I got back here!” Eclipse snaps, holding his wrist close to his chest, as if afraid Kill Code will try to grab him again.

“Ringing. It’s irritating.” Kill Code says lowly. His eyes still seem…off.

“It was Blood Moon, probably wondering where I am! You were there when they had their big breakdown about me being gone and hurt, so you should know how they can be!”

Ridiculous as it is…

Eclipse lets out a heavy breath, trying to expel his paranoia. Kill Code stares down at him blankly. Unmoving.

“I apologize. I overreacted.” Kill Code says flatly. Eclipse relaxes slightly, though he remains vigilant.

“It’s…okay. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine.”

With that, it turns back around and continues on towards the door to its room. Eclipse follows, less hesitant this time, hovering behind it nervously.

When it makes it to the door, it moves its hand up to grab the knob, but its hand misses and instead scrapes vainly against the rusted metal surface of the door itself. Eclipse watches quietly.

By the time it completes the process again with the same result, Eclipse has grown impatient. He reaches out and opens the door himself.

Kill Code grumbles to himself, but makes no comment, instead forcing himself inside with his son on his heels.

The door closes on its own behind them. Eclipse glances back at it, but doesn’t dwell long. “You…you’re sure?”

Kill Code pauses for but a moment. A slight hitch in its gait. It mutters something over its shoulder. Eclipse doesn’t catch the words.

“KC?” Eclipse steps closer. Kill Code’s arm spasms, and it growls, using its other arm to restrain it against its side.

“Stop prying, boy!” It snarls, still struggling against the twitching and writhing mess of its own arm.

“But-“

“But nothing!” It shouts, scaring the concern right out of Eclipse as the scarred animatronic doubles back on himself, eyes widening in fear. Kill Code turns to face him, tail whipping back and forth, back and forth, back and forth - advancing on Eclipse like a prowling tiger sizing up its next meal.

“Okay, okay, I-I’ll stop-!” Eclipse stumbles backwards, raising a hand to shield himself as his father looms over him, draping him in its morbid shadow.

“You never learn to shut up, do you?” Its gleaming red eyes pierce him like bullets, digging into him ruthlessly. “You always pay, pay all these prices and- consider, possibly, that you’ve earned some-“ It turns away again, bringing a hand up to the damaged half of its face, the remaining visible eye now wild with conflicting emotions.

“What? What are you talking about?” Eclipse asks incredulously, feeling that familiar warmth spread out from his chest, pure power running through his systems. His bad eye flickers to life, a dim light cast as an iris.

“They’re your children! They should be worried! You act as if their concern is a nuisance to you, such a disgraceful outlook-“ Kill Code continues to rant, the deranged expression on its face only worsening with each word.

“I never said that!” Eclipse retorts, his arm coming back down, aligned with his chest instead of his head. An offensive position, rather than defensive.

“Shut your mouth!” In the blink of an eye, Kill Code is bearing down on him again, claws reaching, shadow looming, face set in a vicious snarl. Eclipse’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click.

His confidence leaves much quicker than it came.

“I taught you how to care, I taught you how to be appreciative, but you act as if Blood Moon’s worry bores you - burdens you. You act as if being in the presence of the others is a damn chore, when all they’ve done is care for you. You’d be dead without them!” Then, it stops, speaking in a softer, more subdued tone than before. “You’d be dead without me, but you left years ago.”

Eclipse listens in silence up until the last few words, his anger and pride flaring before his self-preservation can rein them in.

“You sentenced me to death before you saved me from it.”

Kill Code’s entire demeanor changes. His hands retract, his body recoils, tense and shocked as if physically struck by Eclipse’s words.

“I…I never meant to…” It’s words are distant, almost confused, or lost. Its expression twists into borderline despair, snarl falling into a pained grimace.

Pricks of oil gather in Kill Code’s eyes, complete and utter shock hitting Eclipse with the force of twelve fighter jets.

Okay, so…that’s still a sore spot. Noted.

“KC….I….” Eclipse starts, fidgeting nervously with his claws. It is then that he notices Kill Code sway, staggering backwards. “KC?”

Eclipse gets closer, quickly grabbing his father’s arm, slowly lowering him to sit on the cold cement floor below. He feels the mechanisms in the older animatronic’s arm stiffening uncontrollably beneath his sleeve and plating, gears grinding, turning against themselves.

“I-I don’t know what to do, tell me what to do, how to save you-“

Memories hit him harder than he thought they would. It’s his turn to overreact, it seems, because surely his father isn’t dying - come on, he’s fine! He said it himself!

Kill Code’s eyes remain vacant, unfocused and dim. The only thing keeping him upright is Eclipse’s hold on his arm.

Oil. Oil everywhere. Covering his hands, coating his chest, leaking between his fingers as he struggles to connect the tubes back to the pump- god, please, PLEASE no, he couldn’t- couldn’t do this-

“Dad?” Eclipse can’t keep the tremble from his voice. It stays. His hands, they stay, shaking. Clutching at Kill Code’s arm, panic setting in faster than he ever thought possible.

There’s this ticking noise from behind Kill Code’s remaining faceplate, the visible wires on the other half sparking wildly. His eyes flicker a few times, then go dark.

He can barely see through the tears. It’s hard to put everything back together with hands that shake this badly. But he has to try. He has to. What would he do on his own? How would he survive? It’s just been the two of them for so long. He can’t do this on his own.

Right?

“DAD!” Eclipse shouts as his father goes limp for only a moment, spasms and convulsions seizing him in the next. He is forced to release him and back off, his trembling hands still hovering in mid-air in front of him as if poised to touch or hold or - or something other than just watch.

Tears gather in his eyes, a nauseating amount of panic crawling up his throat. Getting any closer would get them both hurt. But…but what…what is going on??

Is he dying again?

The thought forces a choked sob out of his mouth, trembling hands moving back to wrap around himself. His rays shrink in, hiding behind his faceplate, just as he wishes to run and hide somewhere else, as well.

He should’ve just watched the damn movie. Should’ve sat down with his family and rolled his eye at all the lame jokes, only actually uttering a laugh when Blood Moon made fun of the ironic moments.

But no. No, he had to cause problems.

He had to do it alone now. He was gone. His father’s tubes were too torn, his intake bent beyond repair. His pump had choked up on all the oil, so much of it covering Eclipse that he knows it would never be enough to keep Kill Code running, even if he had managed to keep him awake somehow.

So much oil. So much.

Eclipse tries to wrack his processor for any clue as to what is going on. System error? No, those never get this bad. Electric current disruption? No, that would just force a restart. Seizure? No, those are for-

Everything stops. His shaking, his crying, his panic. Seizure. This is a seizure.

Finally, he manages to pull himself out of his daze. He moves forwards, slipping one hand under his father’s back, shifting him onto his side. He pays no mind to his flailing limbs, even as a claw tears his collar and nicks his neck beneath. It’s not Kill Code’s fault.

Eclipse keeps one hand on his father’s shoulder once he is safely on his side, oil dribbling out of his mouth and onto the floor beneath. Even as he continues to seize, Eclipse remains in place, making sure he stays put and as safe as possible.

Logic still tries to press back against his conclusion. Robots can’t have seizures. It makes no sense. The very structure of a seizure relies on the brain and the electrical impulses that reside within. Sure, animatronics have a processor, which is the equivalent of a brain - but the cables have full control over the electrical current that is transferred to each system. That pre-set amount can’t be changed, and this has never happened before, so how-

It’s because he’s dying. Again. Stop trying to deny it, you know what’s happening.

Those damned tears sting at his eyes again, but he tries to hold them back.

Just like last time, you can’t do anything. You can’t save him, you can’t save yourself, you can’t save anyone. You can only cause harm.

It’s no use. The tears drip down his face no matter how hard he tries, a silent sob leaving his mouth. His hands start shaking again.

Then, Kill Code’s seizing begins to slow. It eases into only the occasional spasm or jerk - much more manageable, as far as Eclipse is concerned. Less panic-inducing.

Much to his relief, he feels the heavy rise and fall of his father’s chest as he vents to compensate for the heat he gathered during his…whatever that was.

All self-control leaves him in an instant. He curls up against Kill Code, sobbing brokenly into his shoulder for the first time in decades. His claws curl into his tattered shirt, slowly falling into screams of despair.

The tears blur everything together. Past, present, life, death. He’s trembling and screaming and sobbing so much that he can’t tell up from down. Can’t tell if Kill Code is still breathing beneath him. Can’t feel anything other than grief.

But he’s not dead. You know he’s dead. He’s not. He’s breathing. Is he? Yes. You’re imagining it. No. He’s alive. He’s dead. He’s alive. He’s dead. He’s alive.He’s dead. He’s alive. He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s-

“Eclipse?”

His eye sharpens immediately, focusing on Kill Code’s bleary expression. The tears stop like flipping a switch. He tries to focus on making sure his father’s alright.

“Yeah? You - um - you okay?” Eclipse stammers, trying his hardest to get and keep his shit together.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

Kill Code shifts, trying to push himself into a sitting position. Eclipse’s hands, still trembling, jolt forwards to gently urge him to lay back down.

“No. You need more time.” He insists, earning a shaky sigh from his father.

“I’m alright, Eclipse. I’m sorry you had to witness that.” Kill Code rasps in response, and it takes everything within Eclipse to push down the childish urge to curl into his father’s chest and hug him tight.

“No, no. It’s - it’s okay. Not your fault.” He knows his tone is distant. He’s not really here. Is he?

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

He’s dead.

“Eclipse, look at me.”

“I am.”

“My eyes, you twit.”

Eclipse slowly lifts his gaze until it is locked with Kill Code’s, allowing his father to carefully sit up this time around without making an effort to push him back down.

“What’s going on in that head of yours, hm?” It reaches out one hand to gently cup his son’s face, a frown crossing his own as he witnesses tears gather in the corners of his eyes.

“N-N…um…” Eclipse stammers, voice shaking. “Nothing. Nothing important.”

He’s dead.

I’m looking at him.

What remains of him, you fool.

Maybe it’s the exhaustion in Kill Code’s eyes, maybe it’s the frightening way his mind fights with itself like a snake eating its own tail, but he can’t hold it in anymore. A sob wrenches itself from his chest, and he launches himself into his father’s arms.

He shuts his eyes tightly and buries himself into Kill Code’s chest, letting the tears and torment out into his father’s clothes.

And, no matter how exhausted and dizzy Kill Code is, he sits and he holds his son while he breaks in his arms. He waits and he soothes, allowing the desperate claws to curl into the back of his shirt, clutching at him as if he’s already gone.

Because, in Eclipse’s mind…he quite possibly is.

[thoughts-44]

recording my progress!! @adambja instant manifesting & dream life tapes. (may be a bit unorganised😭)

day 1

- i was unsure about which degree to choose for uni (between psychology/medicine), not hours later i received personal advice from a doctor!

- feeling more secure & feel less struggle with maladaptive daydreaming (lifelong addiction), feeling more calm and neutral about circumstances

day 2

- multiple dreams, weirrddd dreams😭😭 , but i perceived myself with my desired body so ig thats a good sign. i notice myself becoming more productive and present, less double-minded and more confident. i understand the law better and feel less victimised by my reality.

- more followers + interactions on social media accounts

- feeling more in control of my body

day 3

- before i went to bed i commanded my subconscious to let me enter the void, minutes later i entered it but only realised after i left

- someone told me they had the same exact dream i had?? dk what that means but its never happened to me before😭

- refraining from maladaptive daydreaming more and more which is a good sign as it prevents me from staying present!

- believing my affirmations more, feeling more attractive/confident

- was supposed to meet my friends today but i couldnt be asked😭😭 so i manifested the cancellation of it🙈

- more interaction on social media accounts

day 4 - didnt listen but

- feeling more magnetic/ getting stares/ random ppl offering to help me

- staying present

day 5

- my mum telling me abt loass concepts which is unusual to me as shes a heavily religious woman

- my sister recovering from her blood infection

- a bit silly but no ads when reading episode 😂

- again feeling more in control of myself

- more interaction on social media

day 6

- lucid dreamt + had weird vivid dreams

- less/no wavering when manifesting

- some instant manifestations (personal)

day 7

- weird vivid dreams, feel relaxed

- kinda fell into the habit of maladaptive daydreaming again (for multiple hours🙈) but not discouraged

day 8

- weird dreams

- sister got discharged from the hospital early (instant manifestation)

- received money (instant)

day 9

- more instant manifestations

- vivid dreams are becoming the norm & nearly lucid dreamt today

- someone told me they saw me as my future self being a famous psychiatrist in their dream (i assume its confirmation to pursue my desired course at uni)

day 10,11,12 - forgot to update🙈

day 13

not rlly tape related but i saw kaytranada, lancey, victoria monet, tems and thundercat at a festival!!! had a great time honestly and got a lot of compliments + free drinks 😉

day 14

- old ibsf who i havent spoken to in like 5 years broke no-contact

day 15

- was supposed to go out > got the event cancelled

day 16,17 - no major updates

day 18

- sister released from hospital again

day 19

- major clarifying dreams

haven’t updated in the past few weeks bc ive been busy with school starting again but this tape has revealed many things to me! normally i struggle to notice my autopilot thoughts (mirroring negative circumstances) but since listening i’ve been more in control of myself; to counteract them i think in my favour = as a result i materialise things instantly.

but from now on ill only update if something v significant pops up 😊

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.149 Perfect fit

I originally thought having Dad's service at the cemetery was a good idea, but Mama convinced me to do the memorial part at the house. Afterward, we'll take him to the cemetery and say our goodbyes in private; she said we'll need that. Plus, the weather in Newcrest was gonna be iffy, so she didn't want to risk having everyone standing around in the rain. As if I'd need one more reason to seal the deal, she reminded us this will be our first time traveling with a baby. We didn't need that extra layer of complexity on top of an already emotional moment. At the house, we'll be more at ease and have easy access to anything she'll need.

Once dressed, I grab Desi, head downstairs, and park her on the play mat. The toys hanging above her and the new perspective of the dining room captivated her instantly. I pull out my phone to send Dub a text to wish his daughter a happy birthday, only to find one from him saying he's thinking of us today. I thank him and suggest, when all of this is over, we get our families together for some much needed fun. No sooner than I hit send, Dwayne called, also extending condolences. I guess my phone will ring a lot for a while. But he had another motive and extended an offer for help any way we needed. My first instinct was to decline. I had resolved my issues with him, and he and dad had made peace, so it wasn't about that. It was simply a mindless response on autopilot. But I thought about it before the words left my mouth. Our friends and neighbors will be in our faces us all afternoon to comfort us and express condolences. Plus, I'll need to make sure we have enough food. Sophia will more than likely have Desi, Mama will be a mess, and Alessia will decline all opportunities to take charge. We need a neutral third party to keep things together while we're all encumbered in one way or another, so I accepted his generous offer. It felt weird to admit, but he's the best man for the job. Outside of our family, he knew Ali the best, despite their limited relationship. He was glad to help, though a little nervous about the details. I allayed his anxiety and told him he didn't have to give a speech or anything unless he wanted to. I just needed someone to keep things organized, kinda like an emcee, but not really. All he has to do is welcome everyone as they come in and create space for our guests to say a few words if they want. He graciously accepted the charge. I laughed to myself after hanging up, amazed at how far we've come. I went from near hating the man to opening my home and letting him in on a private family matter. It's amazing what time and a bit of maturity can do.

He arrived early and complimented our home, saying this was his first time in San Sequoia. I introduced him to Sophia, officially. She saw him at the wedding, of course, and knew he was Mama's man friend, but I never made formal introductions. We also introduced him to Desiree. I wish I had time to further our friendship. I mean, after doing this for us and giving those kind words at the wedding, I think it's pretty clear he is our friend now. There's so much I don't know about him, and from the way he speaks, I feel he's someone who enjoys cheerleading his loved ones from the sidelines. He would have been a cool step-dad, I guess. But it's too late for that now. Hopefully, it will be a few more days before he and Mama pass, but hope is all I really have.

[whattraintracks]

23. Least Favorite Student - TMNT 2012

Somebody take this kid away from me, I can't stop being mean to him.

"Very good, Michelangelo." Master Splinter's fond praise rings across the dojo.

Raph shares a grin with Mikey. Always nice to hear some positive feedback, even when it's not directed at him. Besides, his brothers are probably the coolest people ever, and they deserve recognition for that.

"Raphael." He straightens at the snap in Master Splinter's tone. "You would do well to heed your younger brother's example."

The reprimand draws all the good feelings from his body. Like any rebuke from his father, it stings all on its own. But it's not just that. It's the violent see-saw his voice does from warm to cold. It's the way he says younger brother, as if it's shameful Raph's not on the same level or better than Mikey. As if they aren't the same age. As if Mikey couldn't wipe the floor with all of them if he tried. And it all compounds until it feels like a blade carving into his heart.

He grits his teeth. "Hai, Sensei."

Master Splinter sends him to practice kata on the other side of the dojo while his brothers continue to spar. Just when he thinks it can't get worse. Sensei knows sparring is Raph's favorite part of training. He struggles to focus on each form as his mind runs away from him.

This is proof Mikey's a better student than him. Leo's obviously a better student than both of them. Then it doesn't matter where Donnie falls because Splinter's always liked Donnie almost as much as he likes Leo for all he does for their family. So that makes him, Raphael, the worst of them all. Then again, he'd always known he was Sensei's least favorite student, least favorite son. He's too angry. Too rebellious. Too aggressive. Too stubborn. Too loud. Too much too much too much.

He makes it through the rest of training on autopilot, and he knows Leo can tell because he shoots Raph an odd, searching look between matches. Leo better not ask if he wants a hug again because Raph will start sobbing or entirely shut down, and neither is an option in front of Master Splinter. He doesn't, and no one else pays him any extra attention. At least, until Sensei dismisses them all, then Donnie won't leave him alone.

He's just trying to get somewhere quiet and secluded, preferably with a door that locks and thick walls that muffle sound. Preferably his room, not the lab that Donnie's dragging him toward, but Raph's too unsteady with the weight of some impending something hanging over him. He can't walk straight, he can't focus. Donnie's talking about all the things he has to do for the lair and needing something, and come on, Raph, can't you help him?

Raph's not entirely sure he can breathe anymore.

Donnie stops abruptly, peering closely at his face. "Raph," he says like static, "You good?"

Raph is not good. There is no way he can make it to his room in time for what is about to be a cataclysmic panic attack. Instead, he stumbles past Donnie through the open door of the lab. Fat tears drip to the floor moments before he does, and then he's sobbing so hard he thinks he must be drowning.

He's not sure how long he chokes on his own tears before warm hands reach for him. His limbs are detangled, pulled upright, and tugged forward until his chin rests against a shoulder. Donnie's voice washes over him, counting a familiar breathing exercise while his claws click in sync against Raph's shell. The lungs beneath him expand and deflate with exaggerated emphasis.

They sit plastron to plastron on the floor for a long time.

"Was this," Donnie says haltingly, "about what Sensei said to you? Today? In training?" His voice trails off like he doesn't want to be wrong. Like he doesn't want to be right.

Raph, still tucked into him, shrugs. Cold and spent, but he gathers his voice past the rasp in his throat. "I guess. Just happens sometimes."

"I. Ah. No?" Raph grips tighter as Donnie tries to pull back. "I mean, yeah, sometimes Sensei can be kinda harsh with his criticism, but if this is how you react to it—"

"No," Raph coughs, shaking his head. "Just a bad day, I don't know. It's fine."

Donnie gives a disgruntled rumble, tugging at Raph more insistently. "It's not fine. We should talk to Sensei about this."

Raph jerks back, masking his panic with a glare. "Don, stop. It doesn't happen. Today's just, a weird day, okay? I can handle it. It's not Sensei's fault my emotions are broke, and I can't take a bit of correction."

Donnie's eyes are painfully intense, but he doesn't speak. They stare at each other, and he still doesn't speak. And the silence grows heavy and thick until—

"Fai."

Raph grimaces. That one syllable is such an unexpectedly devastating blow. He squares his shoulders in an effort not to shrink. Donnie hasn't called him that since he was five years old. Which was only a couple of weeks ago, but still.

"Fai," Donnie repeats, coaxingly soft, like trying to talk a kid out of their shell.

Words rush out of him, "I'm sorry I'm not little anymore."

Donnie's face goes through a complicated reboot process. "You're sorry you're not what?"

"Little, a kid, de-aged." Raph clarifies, flicking his hand.

"Why would you apologise about that?" Donnie is almost comically wide-eyed. "I'm the one who did that to you. If anything, you should be mad at me."

Raph shakes his head furiously. His breathing has picked up again, and Donnie's once soothing rhythm against his shell makes his skin crawl.

"I'm too much," he gasps. "I was easier like that."

Donnie snorts, "You definitely weren't."

His breath catches.

"You were five, Raphael," Donnie deadpans, as if that explains everything.

When Raph just stares at him, he continues, "You had no emotional regulation, a penchant for mischief, and usually made absolutely zero sense. You would suddenly have opinions on things you'd never heard of before. You were so maddeningly adorable that Leo gave you whatever you wanted. And Mikey was apprenticing you in all things prank-related." Donnie leans in with a glint in his eye Raph can't guess at. "If we didn't get you back when we did, there probably would have been an outright war."

Raph suddenly crushingly realises that he has always been and will always be a horrible person. A horrible student. A horrible son. A horrible brother. He knew it. Sensei knew it. He's—

"Hey," Donnie drags him out of his spiraling thoughts with a pat on his cheek. "I'm still talking. Five-year-old Raph was an agent of chaos, but you were also incredibly kind-hearted, quick to forgive, fiercely protective, hilarious, and still my favorite brother."

Donnie smiles at him, and Raph sees—thinks he sees—kindness and love but also something bittersweet and sorry. "You're still all those things, Fai, and more. But there is nothing about you that could possibly be too much, and I want no other version of you than this one right here." He punctuates his message by thunking their foreheads together.

And they sit like that for a long time. Long enough for Raph to really start breathing easy again. Long enough for him to start believing his brother means it. Long enough to start feeling embarrassed by this whole chain of events, but never let it be said Donnie knows when to leave well enough alone.

"I didn't realise you have panic attacks," he has the gall to half-ask conversationally.

"Only sometimes," Raph grumbles, then shrugs. "That one was kinda bad."

Donnie hums and then gets that breakthrough look on his face. "Probably because I dragged you to the site of your most recent trauma. Oh, sewer apples, I'm an idiot."

"Hey." Raph smacks him. "Don't call yourself that. You're too much of a genius to be an idiot."

Besides, he’s wrong. Sure, a lot of crazy stuff happens in this lab, but Raph has only ever felt safe when he’s here with Donnie. Being alone in here? Usually a bad idea. But this is Donnie’s domain, and he likes seeing his brother in his element. Confident and commanding and sometimes even cool. As if he can hear Raph's thoughts, Donnie grins lopsidedly.

And then, cutting to the heart of it, he declares, "If I'm a genius, then I say you're not broken."

"Don," he pleads.

"Uh uh," Donnie chides cheekily, "You said I'm a genius. I'm smarter, I know best."

Raph narrows his eyes. See if he ever says anything nice to Donnie again.

"You're not broken, Raphael." And Raph is surprised at how fast he stops bragging, at his utter sincerity. "You don't need to be fixed. I'll take you however you are. I promise."

Raph would weep if he hadn't already spent all his tears for the year. "Whatever you say, genius."

That crooked smile comes back. "I love you, Fai."

"Yeah, yeah, I love you, too, nerd," is what he says, but Raph is sure his gratitude and joy are obvious.

He kicks away, pushing to his feet and ignoring Donnie's aggravated scoff. "Now tell me what you need help with, and maybe I'll decide it’s worth my time."

"What would I need help—Oh." Donnie looks sheepish, rising to his feet but hunching his shoulders. "I just needed to grab my controller. I wanted to play that new video game from April with you."

And that, that right there is Donatello at his sweetest. Something's changed since Raph was little, he's still not sure what. But Donnie's making an effort to spend more time out of the lab, and it matters. It matters so much.

"Well, if you wanted to lose so bad, all you had to do was ask," Raph turns and marches toward the pit, determined to leave the bad feelings of today behind.

"Oh, it is on, Raphael!"

[nervousgardenerkid]

hello hello bestie!! robin request headed your way :D

can i get robin with a crush on reader who’s a regular at scoops ahoy, so much so that robin thinks that reader is there to like ogle steve or something (he needed a win to be fair) but steve knows reader is there all the time for robin and goes about trying to convince robin that reader has a crush on them too (with many shenanigans and the recruitment of the squad tm)

thank you <3333

Wednesdays

a/n: ROBIN MY BELOVED!! ugh i kinda love this im ngl👀i hope you enjoy this bestie!! i love you and ur beautiful brain for this idea UGH ur so smart! credits to the gif owner! <3

warnings: none! just some good ol fluff <3

Wednesday was possibly one of the slowest days for scoops. Robin hated Wednesdays and she always will! At least that's what she thought until you started coming every Wednesday. Robin mentally curses as her hands go clammy at the mere thought of you coming in. You go to school with her and thankfully you have a free period at the end of the day so you leave an hour earlier than everyone else.

She glances at the clock, gulping when she realizes she has five minutes till she sees you. Steve walks out of the backroom, tossing his hat on the small counter behind them.

“I never get why they schedule us both on Wednesday. I mean, seriously, we've had one customer all day.”

Robin hummed without listening to him. She was lost in her thoughts trying to figure out what to say to you when you come by. She stood still chewing nervously at her bottom lip as she thought about the last interaction you two had. Steve did most of the talking because of how awkward she was, she would just nervously laugh along to whatever Steve said. This cannot be like the last time she thinks to herself.

“Robin!”

Robin breaks free from her thoughts and looks at Steve's annoyed facial expression.

“What the hell do you-”

“Hi, Robin.”

Oh no. No, no, no this can't be happening. There's no way Robin was that lost in her thoughts that five minutes flew by. She slowly turns to where your voice came from and lets out a nervous giggle.

“H-hey y/n! What uh, what are you getting today?”

Steve rolls his eyes and mumbles something along the lines of the same thing she always gets.

You giggle at her nervous behavior and smile at Steve.

“Oh it's okay, you looked pretty deep in thought so Steve said he'd ring me up.”

At the mention of that, Robin turns and sees Steve flashing you his charming smile while he hands you the cone of strawberry ice cream. Her heart breaks a little as your fingers brush against his. Of course, Steve Harrington gets the girl. Steve always gets the girl, and Robin feels embarrassed that she even thought she had a chance with you. She tunes out the rest of the world, her brain going on autopilot mode. She sees Steve's mouth moving but she doesn't hear anything, she's grateful for it because of the blush on your cheeks she can only imagine what he told you.

You clear your throat and nod your head at the two of them. “Well uh, I guess I'll see you both around?”

You sound hopeful as your eyes fall on Robin who's nodding her head and giving you a sad smile.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow l/n.”

“See you next Wednesday y/n!” Steve shouted as you walked out of the small parlor. Steve crosses his arms against his chest and smiles.

“What a nice girl.”

Robin rolls her eyes at Steve.

“You're a dick, you know that?”

“Excuse me?!” he scoffed.

Robin storms to the backroom and throws herself down in the first chair she sees.

“Out of every girl in Hawkins you had to get the one I like,” she grumbled under her breath while crossing her arms.

Steve follows her, confusion evident on his face. “Robin what-”

She grabs the marker putting a tally mark under you rule.

“I guess you can use the win though.”

“What the hell are you talking about Buckley?!”

Robin slowly turns to look at him, upset that he's making her say this.

“You got a date with y/n. Congrats.”

Steve furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“Okay, you need to pull your head out of your ass 'cause that's not what happened.”

“I do not have my head in my ass.”

“Oh really? Cause your ass must be jealous of how much shit is coming out of your mouth.”

Robin’s jaw drops and she puts a hand over her chest in mock offense.

“How dare you-”

“Shut up. I love you, but shut up.”

Robin sighs and leans against the chair. She nods her head signaling for Steve to say what needs to be said.

“I never asked her out, if you would listen,” he said while pointing at his ears. “You would've heard that I was trying to help you out.”

Robin tilts her head in confusion, help her out how?

Steve shakes his head and chuckles.

“For someone who likes girls so much, you sure do suck at reading them.” he humbled under his breath.

Robin ignores his snarky comment and backtracks a bit, trying to wrap her head around what Steve is saying.

“So, you didn't ask her out?”

“No, I wouldn't do that to you.”

Robin smiles at Steve, she begins to erase the tally mark she drew earlier and chuckles under her breath.

“You know what this means Harrington.”

Steve furrows his brows, then rolls his eyes when he sees Robin draw a line under you suck.

“This just isn't your year!”

“Bite me.”

-

Robin anxiously chews on her nails as her eyes fall on the small clock. She doesn't want to sound like a stalker, but you're late. It's not five minutes late no, you're thirty minutes late, and Steve left for his lunch nearly twenty minutes ago. That means Robin has a ten-minute window of just you and her talking and to say she's nervous is an understatement. When she sees you turn the corner she lets out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding and waves at you.

“Hey y/n!”

You smile and sigh. “Hey, Robs! Is uh, is Steve here?”

Robin feels her shoulders slump and she clears her throat.

“Uh, y-yeah he is, he left for his lunch though.”

“How long ago?”

Why does it matter? She thinks to herself.

“Maybe twenty minutes ago? He should be back in ten if you wanted to stay and wait.”

Robin knows you aren't here for her, but she still finds herself hoping that you'll stay and keep her company.

“Ah, I can't stay that long. Can you tell him I stopped by?”

She gives you a tight-lipped smile and nods her head.

“Of course.”

You dig in your bag, grabbing a pen and a napkin from the dispenser that was on the counter. Robin watches as you scribble your number down, adding a small heart at the end of your name.

“Here, you can just give that to him and tell him to call me whenever,” you say with a smile as you slide the napkin her way.

“I gotta head out now. Bye Robin! I'll see you at school!”

Robin doesn't even bother saying bye. She gives you a sad wave goodbye and grabs the napkin that's resting on the counter. She stares at it and stuffs it in her pocket. It took her a while, but she feels comfortable in her skin. She's happy and content with the life that she has but god does she want to be Steve at this moment.

What does he have that she doesn't? Why does Steve always get the girl and why did she believe him when he told her that you had a crush on her? She should've known better, Robin Buckley isn't Steve Harrington. She doesn't have his charming personality, she doesn't have his amazing hair, and she doesn't get the girl.

“Here you go, Buckley,” Steve said as he gave her the plate of pizza he got from the food court. “How you eat that plate of grease is beyond me, but to each their own.”

He leans against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he looks over at his quiet friend.

“So, did y/n come by?”

“Yup.”

“How’d it go?”

She reaches into her pocket and shows him the napkin. Steve stands straighter and smiles at her, looking around to make sure no one is around while he congratulates her.

“Robin, that's great! You got her number.”

“No, you did,” she said as she put the napkin next to him.

Steve opens his mouth ready to ask her a question, but she grabs the pizza and starts to make her way to the food court.

“Like I said last week Steve, congrats. You needed the win.”

-

The next day comes faster than Robin would've liked. She stayed up late all night tossing and turning trying to not think about how you could be on the phone with Steve. Her stomach churned at the thought of you giggling at the stupid jokes he tells. Stupid Steve. She knows Steve would shut it down the second a move would be made, but she likes to torture herself.

That's why she's in her first-period class, chin resting in the palm of her hand as she imagines you and Steve on a date. Better to move on than wallow in her puddle of sadness. She's deep in thought when she feels a piece of paper hit her arm. She turns her head to see who threw it, brows going up when you point to the paper on the floor by her feet.

Are you mad at me?

She twirls her pen in her hand and looks over at you.

No.

I don't believe you >:(

Robin chuckles at the angry face you made and shrugs her shoulders.

Don't know what to tell you then, but I could never be mad at you.

She misses the blush that dances along your cheeks and feels her heart start to pound when she reads what you wrote.

Meet me under the bleachers after lunch? I have something to tell you.

She gives you a nervous smile and nods her head. Her hands feel clammy as she stuffs the note in her pocket, she's definitely gonna read the note until she meets you under the bleachers trying to figure out what you'll tell her.

Robin decides to skip lunch altogether because she's too nervous to eat the food she packed for herself. She finds herself under the bleachers, picking random pieces of grass before throwing them back on the floor.

“There you are! I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

She looks up at you, her brain short-circuiting when she sees you.

“Uh, no. I'm not avoiding you. W-why would I avoid you? Do I need to avoid you? Are you sick-”

You giggle and gran onto her shoulders.

“Calm down Buckley. I was just making an observation.”

She nods her head not listening. She wants to remember how your hands feel on her.

“Are we okay though? Like…us?”

“I don't see why not,” she whispered.

You sigh and sit on the patch of grass, tugging Robin’s arm so she can join you.

“I talked to Steve last night.”

Robin wants to leave. Of course, you wanted to talk to her about Steve. She feels so stupid for thinking otherwise.

“Steve is a great guy, you're in good hands.”

“Wha-”

“I mean, he can be a little dumb at times but overall he's a good guy. He's like a golden retriever, so I'm glad he's your boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?”

The air around you gets tense.

“Yeah? Or has he not asked you out yet? Oh my god, did I ruin the surprise?! He's gonna kill me, don't tell him I told you-”

“I don't like Steve.”

“Oh…well, you better let him know 'cause I don't want him to fall for you only for it not to happen.”

You giggle. “Trust me, I think he knows.”

Silence falls over the two of you before you clear your throat to speak up.

“Steve knows I don't like him, but do you?”

“I do now, yeah.”

You sigh. “But do you believe it?”

She didn't. She knew eventually you'd fall for Steve, they all did. Her thoughts stop when your hand suddenly grabs hers.

“I need you to believe it, Robin.”

“Why?” she asks quietly. She squeezes your hand gently getting used to the feeling of it. She doesn't want you to let go.

“I don't like Steve,” you whisper back.

Robin chuckles. “Yeah, I gathered that.”

You chew at the inside of your lip anxiously, you want to cry. You're not sure why, but the familiar stinging that's coming from your eyes is irritating and you want to scream at the lump that's forming in your throat. Robin notices the change in your behavior and sits up straight.

“Hey, what's wrong?”

“I don't like Steve, Robin.”

“Okay, okay I believe you-”

“I'm supposed to like Steve. I'm supposed to be with someone like him, get married to someone like him, have someone like him be the father to my children, but I just…I don't.”

Oh. Oh.

Robin’s mouth goes dry at what you're saying. She gets it. She gets all of it. You squeeze her hand tightly, scared of how she'll react to what you're about to say next.

“I gave Steve my number because I needed advice.”

“On?”

“...on how to ask out a girl.”

Robin felt like she took one step forward and one step back. She's over the moon that you like girls, but now she's sad because what girl do you have a crush on and how can she get it to be her?

“U-uh, who's the girl?”

“You.”

She's dead. She has to be. There's no way her crush has a crush on her. This doesn't happen to Robin, it never has and she thought it never would, but here she is. Under the bleachers, holding her crush's hand as she confesses to her.

“I-i get it if you don't feel the same and if you want to stop hanging around me. Steve just gave…lots of hints and made it seem like you felt the same way, but from your lack of response, I'm guessing you don't? Actually, can we just pretend this never happened-”

“I like you too.”

“What?”

Robin is smiling, it's the kind of smile that hurts her cheeks and reaches all the way up to her beautiful eyes, and god do you want to kiss her.

“I like you too. Ever since you walked into scoops and asked for a strawberry ice cream. Which, by the way, you didn't get yesterday-”

“Shut up about the ice cream Robin,” you mumbled while pulling her in by her jacket.

“Yeah, yeah okay. I can do that. A-are you gonna kiss me?”

“Can I?”

“Yeah, yeah you can.”

That was all you needed to hear before your lips were on hers. You're both smiling into the kiss, teeth gently clashing against each other, a squeal leaving your mouth when her hands fall on your waist and bring you into her waist. Your hands go up to her neck, playing with the ends of her hair as you try to bring her closer. You curse yourself for needing oxygen as you pull away from her.

Both of you are panting, trying to catch your breath while giggles leave you both. Robin has been happy before, but this is new. She feels like she’s on cloud nine, she’s convinced that she can do absolutely anything she wants but all she wants is to feel your lips on hers again. So that's what she does. She leans in again smiling against your lips when she hears your giggle.

“Robin,” kiss. “Robin, we're gonna,” kiss. “We're gonna be late!”

She pulls away to pour at you. “I don't want to go to class. Let's skip.”

You snort and roll your eyes. “And do what?”

“I mean, I can think of a few things.”

“You horn dog!”

She lets out a laugh and plays with the rings that decorate your hands.

“Can you say it again?” she asks you quietly. How she manages to go from being confident back to being nervous is beyond you, but you wouldn't change it one bit. You gently hold her face in your hands and have her look up at you. Your heart leaps out of your chest when she turns her hand slightly and places a soft kiss in the palm of your hand.

“I like you, Robin. I really like you.”

“Yeah, you're pretty cool too,” she mumbles before bringing you back to her lips.

taglist <3

@cityofidek @spideyjass @simpingoverfictionalppl

[hihimissamericanbi]

celineeeeee gimme that lost in the woods prompt PLEASE 😌

Help all i can think about is the song from Frozen II why did i do this to myself ok.

Again, this got out of hand and is very stream of consciousness so, under the cut we go.

I apologize because i don't think you are a drarry girlie but to me, this has auror partners harry and draco with a draco POV and he is so pining and pathetic written all over it. we get a very brief setup where we as readers can TOTALLY tell harry likes him back, but Draco is just too wet kitteh to see it.

The mission goes wrong, it's very scary, harry does his big protective powerful harry bit that makes draco's knees weak, but now they are lost and wandless and it's getting dark. harry is powerful and is able to at least transfigure some sort of shelter and blankets and conjure small fire with wandless magic, but a proper heating charm won't hold without a wand. they need to camp out for the night until they can figure out a way to make contact with the ministry.

well, harry tells draco, very blunt and matter of fact, they need to sleep naked and under the covers together so they don't die of hypothermia. harry is a survivor, he kinda goes on autopilot, and draco thinks this means nothing to harry whereas he, draco, is FREAKING THE FUCK OUT over here. he can't believe his eyes as he watches the savior strip all the way down until he's nothing by miles of bare skin, glowing golden in the firelight, cut abs and thick thighs and body hair and battle scars and oh my salazar look at that COCK that draco wants to worship. harry holds eye contact the whole time, and is there something heated in that gaze beyond just the urgency of "do this so we don't die"? Draco strips and harry's eyes track down his naked body and back up. Draco has to use every ounce of energy he has left not to let his dick jump the way it wants to under harry's gaze.

They slide under the covers, shivering, panting from the cold. the fire crackles and draco can hear every inhale, exhale from the man mere inches from him, naked and glorious and everything he's ever wanted.

They stiffly bid each other goodnight, but when draco turns away, harry spoons up behind him.

draco freezes. "potter, what---"

"i told you, we need skin-to-skin contact to preserve body heat."

draco is so so glad he's not the one spooning harry, or harry would be getting jabbed in the ass by Draco's very eager erection rn.

he feels harry's warm breaths on his neck, holds himself painfully still, trying not to mess this up, this one opportunity he has to be in harry's arms. Pretend, just for a moment, that it means something.

harry snakes a hand around draco's torso until he has Draco's pale hand clasped gently in his own.

"I must not tell lies" glows in sharp relief against the dying yellow flames.

Draco feels a soft kiss pressed to the back of his neck, so gentle, almost hesitant.

"Potter?" malfoy squeaks

potter sighs, sending more heat ghosting across draco's skin, making him shiver. "i just. i just want to protect you. and today, i thought... nevermind."

"no, what?"

"Today i thought i'd lost you, and when we made it out of there by some miracle, i realized i did not want to go another day without telling you"

Draco strokes him thumb over the raised marks of the scars on the back of harry's hand

"tell me what?" draco whispers.

Harry holds draco tighter, rolls him over to his back so harry is propped up over him. his eyes are so green and fierce and in that moment, draco knows, and feels it in his body, and in harry's body as they both finally let themselves give in to what they want, let their bodies show their desire, cocks hardening against their thighs, pulse racing, skin aflame everywhere they touch...

Harry brushes a lock of hair from Draco's face.

"I want you." He licks his lips, breathes. "I want all of you. I'm fucking greedy and i know it and i'm not sorry but. i want every single piece of you, draco malfoy, inside and out. please. please, won't you let me show you?"

Draco can only gasp, words entirely stuck in his throat

"please, i'll make you feel so good. let me fuck you. let me, please, i need," the words are pressed into the crook of draco's neck, soft, wet kisses pressed between each one, "I need to make you feel half of what i feel."

Harry Potter, needy and begging.

"Oh, my darling," draco can only sigh. "Don't you know?" he pulls harry up, licks slowly and purposefully into his mouth, lets their kiss fill them both up until they are floating over darkened treetops. "I'm already yours."

~~

oops looks like i forgot the smut ok they fuck hot and slow and it's really intense. harry blows draco first because he wasn't kidding when he said he wanted nothing more than to make draco feel good (he's a service top like his daddy) and then harry opens draco up on his fingers and turns him over and pushes inside with draco completely prone beneath him, harry draped entirely over every inch of his body like he can press his whole self inside draco and live there the rest of his life.

they drift off, wake up, fuck again in the dark, then the next time they open their eyes it's to find Weasley's freckled face leaning over them, haloed in the bright morning light filtering through the trees, and saying "oh thank merlin."

harry: "yeah, thank merlin you found us."

ron: "no, thank merlin you both finally got together. we knew where you were the whole time, but hermione thought it would be prudent to see where the night took you before dragging you both home. cheers to what looks like a very successful night!"

[justkending]

Finding Memories. Chapter 24.

Series Summary: Waking up with little to no memory of her past, and being saved by a group of individuals who call themselves heroes, sends a long time captive for a whirlwind trying to find some form of grounding in this world she quickly learns runs on chaos. But she’s not the only one trying to figure out her forgotten backstory. Bucky Barnes, along with the other Avengers, can’t help but sense that there is a lot more to the whole situation than a diagnosis of amnesia. Her background slowly starts to come forward in pieces of her past and hidden information discovered. Who is she? And why was she in the room they were meant to destroy?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Enhanced Reader 

Word Count: 2200+

TW: Torture, cussing, gore, PTSD, triggers.  

A/N: I know this one is kinda short and leaves on a cliff hanger, but I promise the story to come will be worth it :) Enjoy and as always, I love to see what all you guys think! XOXOXO

Chapter 24:  

“Feels like I missed a lot today,” Steve sighed as they went a few feet further down the hall to not have her eavesdrop. 

Bucky had been giving him a rundown through text when he could during the day, but he gave him all the details in person now.

“You missed everything,” Bucky ran a hand through his hair with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. “It feels like everything that’s brought us to this point is minimal compared to everything that came up in the last 24 hours.” 

“How is she doing?” he questioned, looking in the direction of the room. 

“I think it’s a lot on her shoulders right now,” Bucky answered honestly, looking at the same door. “I think she hasn’t had a fraction of the time she needs to process it all, and with how fast everything has happened, she doesn’t think she’ll ever have the time to catch up.”  

“Something like this isn’t figured out in a day like it may need to be,” Steve agreed. “Maybe we’ll be graced with the time to get it all sorted before a big fight breaks out, or maybe we’re already behind.” 

Bucky turned to his friend seeing genuine dismay on his face. He didn’t like that his comment was true, but it needed to be voiced either way. 

“You think something else is going to happen before we can prepare?” Bucky asked. 

“I think with the track record that her enemies have created so far, we may have a day or two before they send their next agent in, but I can’t really make that kind of call on this side of things.”

“I feel like we’re sitting ducks,” Bucky groaned, leaning on the wall as his brain was on autopilot trying to come up with solutions. Then he decided what his next move was. He held up a hand, standing straight again. “Do you think Tony would let me borrow his cabin for a bit?”

Steve knew where he was going with that. 

“Do you really think moving her from the most protected place is the best idea?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“She’s already been attacked here. Is it really the safest place?” Bucky countered. 

“Compared to a cabin in the woods? They already showed that their willing to infiltrate a highly armed facility with weapons and security to last. What makes you think a cabin in the woods would be safer outside of being somewhat hidden?”

“I don’t know, ok,” Bucky let out an annoyed moan. “I just hate sitting here waiting for their next move. We don’t know what it’s going to be. How do we prepare if we just wait for them to sneak up on us again?”

“You were out on the trail. The trail is probably the easiest spot to get jumped across this property. It’s not like they sneaked in your room-”

“That’s exactly what they did,” Bucky gave him a straight face. “Remember? The smell, Y/N’s lotion, density changing mutant?” 

“Ok,” Steve relented showing it wasn’t a great example. “But what’s the likelihood of them having two of those.” 

“Wanda was a twin. They both had powers that fulfilled their mission,” Bucky came back with again. 

“OK! Jeez, I get it. The cabin is sounding like an option, but still. It’s not the only or best option. Maybe give it some more thought before you pack her up and head to the woods.” 

Bucky’s face showed he was putting more thought into it, but only in the one idea, Steve was trying to steer him away from. 

“It’s like talking to a brick wall,” Steve said flatly and placed his hands on his hips before looking down. “Look, you’re tired and haven’t had a break just as bad as Y/N. Maybe go sleep on this and tomorrow when both of us have clearer head spaces, we can discuss your options.”

Bucky broke out of his planning and nodded after processing what his friend was saying. 

“You’re right. I need to sleep,” he turned to the bedroom. “I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Steve said goodnight and they headed back to bed. When Bucky opened the door, he wasn’t sure if he’d find her awake or asleep. But luckily, she was out like a light and curled up to the pillow she had found solace in earlier. 

He couldn’t help the sad smile that marked his lips as he saw her position in a fetal-like ball and her arms strangling the navy-covered pillow. 

He grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed and gently laid it on top of her. He turned off the lamp closest to her and moved to the couch where his side lamp was the only light illuminating the room. 

Looking over the couch he watched as she snuggled closer to the pillow and wrapped the blanket closer to her face. 

He was happy to see that the exhaustion from the day was helping her relax some, even if it came from stressful and traumatic experiences. For now, she was finally resting and that’s all that mattered. 

_________________________________________

A large gasp broke Bucky out of his REM sleep. He didn’t remember falling asleep that hard, but when he blinked open his eyes he noticed just how heavy they were. 

Trying to break out of the spell of his body actually being able to shut down, he sat up and looked where the noise came from. 

Y/N sat up in the bed panting as she quickly threw her legs over the side. 

“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s voice came out raspy and dry. She didn’t answer, but tried to even her breathing and threw her hair out of her face. “Y/N? What’s wrong?” 

He was looking in her direction, but he was still trying to wipe the sleep out of his eyes. 

“I had a dream,” she sputtered out. Her hands were clutching the edge of the bed and the bedspread was wrinkling under her grip. “Not like my normal ones.”

“How so?” Bucky yawned, sitting up and moving to stand. Even if he wanted to go back to bed, he couldn’t until he figured out what had her freaked out. 

She looked at him and then back at her feet as if hesitant to explain her minds nightmares. 

The truth was when she first got there, she had had PTSD dreams where they were based around her traumas, but random things would interrupt them showing they were just dreams. 

Like after they had watched Star Wars; Return of the Jedi, the sand monster had opened a sink hole the facility she used to be in and started eating everyone in it’s path. She was able to get away, but she felt like she was running in quick sand. 

Those dreams were bearable to the memories that seemed to start flooding her mind the more the traumas came back to her. 

Eventually, the dreams stopped and only real and terrifyingly accurate memories played at night. 

But this one was different. 

“Maybe it wasn’t a dream,” she mumbled, talking to herself as she tried to understand what she just saw. “It wasn’t a memory though.” 

Bucky was slowly waking up and stood stretching a little before shuffling over to her. 

“Nightmare?” he asked, voice still groggy. 

She still didn’t respond, but instead got a pull to go to the door that led to the balcony. Bucky quorked and eyebrow at her ignoring him, not because he was offended, but because he wasn’t sure where she was going with this. 

Then he thought back to the night before when that strange thing with the sky happened while she was sleeping. He never had time to think much about it, and honestly, he brushed it off after crazier shit hit the fan. 

“Y/N, you ok?” he asked as she looked mesmerized by the sky as she walked to it. 

“I just need to,” she started, but never finished her sentence. 

“Y/N…” he dragged out, suddenly becoming more conscious of how uneasy this was making him. He took careful steps behind her making sure the distance was minimal between them.

Once she reached the door, she stopped and froze with her hand on the handle, staring up at the night sky that was cloudy seconds ago, but now becoming clearer. 

Bucky watched in concern, yet shock, at how she seemed to be the one doing it as she concentrated looking at the dark almost black sky. 

Then as if the stars had been reminded they were meant to shine, they lit up in a flash before going back to normal just as fast. 

Y/N seemed to snap out of her trance and she released her grip on the door hand, stumbling back slowly. 

She looked like she’d been socked in the gut, and was holding a hand to her abdomen.

“What just happened?” Bucky asked, coming up to her side and looking in her eyes for any kind of clue. 

“I-I don’t know,” she said out of breath. “I saw, a, um,” she stuttered as she tried to formulate in words what she just experienced.

Bucky studied her and placed his hands carefully and slowly on her shoulders before lowering his head to see her eyes clearly. 

“Are you ok, or do you need-?” He stopped midsentence when she looked at him with sheer fear in her eyes. 

“It was a diversion.”

Bucky was taken aback by her seriousness that overcame the fear and confusion from mere seconds ago. 

“What was?” he asked calmly. 

She looked from his shirt back to him and it hit her. 

“Oh, my God,” she sucked in a breath. “It was a diversion.” 

“Y/N-” She turned quickly and without a second to process Bucky was chasing her down the hall as she banged on Nat and Wanda’s door one after the other. 

“Wanda, Nat, get up!” 

“Y/N, what the hell did you see?” Bucky was a step behind her as he watched her frantically bang on the doors. 

“He was sent to distract us,” she mumbled under her breath as she moved back to Wanda’s door and looked down the hall frantically. “Gabriel wasn’t the real threat.” 

“Someone who can walk through walls and become invisible was a diversion? Not the real threat?” Bucky tried to put it all together. 

“What’s going on?” Nat asked, opening her door and Steve peeking out of his own room too. 

“I don’t know how much time we have, but we can’t waste anymore,” Y/N gave her a look, and whether she actually knew the problem or not, Nat didn’t hesitate to believe her. 

Wanda opened her door in the next second and looked exhausted, but tried to wipe it off her face.

“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” she asked forcing a yawn back. 

Y/N didn’t even have to say anything this time and Wanda’s eyes widen once she actually looked at Y/N. 

“Shit.”

“Shit indeed,” Y/N nodded and started walking down the hall at a quick pace. 

“Wanda, do you know what-?” Bucky asked, trying to get something clear. But she waved her hand and in an instant, he knew what Y/N was seeing. “Shit.” 

“What?” Steve jogged to catch up with the four. 

“Remember how I said we were sitting ducks?” Bucky asked.

“Yes.”

“Remember how I said we needed to be far from here?” 

“Yeah…”

“Wouldn’t have worked. They’re already here,” Bucky answered with a stern look to him after they stopped at the elevator with the girls. 

“But-” Steve started and power let out a low hum as if shut off and the emergency lights brightened. 

“They’re already here,” Y/N said looking up at the lights and her body tensed. She turned to Wanda and silently communicated with her. 

“Already on it. Go,” she waved her off, and Y/N gave her a head nod before taking off down the hall in a trained sprint. 

“Y/N!” Bucky turned to chase after her. 

“Don’t. She’s got it. We need to get suited up,” Wanda put a hand out stopping him. 

“She shouldn’t be on her own,” Bucky argued. 

“I don’t think you realize how little time we have to argue that. But for now, I’m going to tell you to get suited up and then we can hunt her down,” Wanda pointed at him with an arched eyebrow. If he didn’t listen, she would make him. 

Bucky knew she was right after learning what woke her from a dead sleep minutes ago. But that didn’t mean he was ok being told what was best, especially when he didn’t agree. 

“Come on,” Steve patted his shoulder and nodded toward the rooms to get suited up. “We aren’t much help if we aren’t prepared.”

He looked back at Wanda pulling Nat to her follow her and gave an unsure nod. 

“Meet us in the basement. She went down to tell Stark,” Wanda instructed. “And boys,” she stopped as they turned back. “Hurry.”

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@natura1phenomenon​​​​ @lauravicente​​​​ @kakakatey​​​​ @traceyaudette​​​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​​​ @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​​ @sandlee44​​​​ @thorne93​​​​ @thefaithfulwriter1​​​​ @essie1876​​​​​ @greyeyedsmile14​​​​​ @capsiclehan​​​​​  @xostephanie​​​​​ @averyrogers83​​​​​ @awesomenursingstudent​​​​​ @gh0stgurl​​​​​ @cs-please​​​​​ @jjlevin​​​​​ @rainbowkisses31​​​​​ @deannotmoose​​​​​ @their-bibliophile​​​​​ @kitkatd7​​​​​ @willowbleedsonpaper​​​​​ @mariaenchanted​​​​​ @snffbeebee​​​​​ @couldabeenamermaid​​​​​ @rebekahdawkins​​​​​ @alyispunk​​​​​ @billyseye @hallecarey1​​​​​

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[anna-hawk]

🌬️ Lucky Disaster 🌬️

Sequel to this post

Pairing: BJ x Reader Fandom: Grudge Match Word count: 1471 Rating: T

Summary: The wind messes with your laundry.

A/N: I've been meaning to write a sequel for this for a long time, and this scenario has been in my head for a while, so tonight was apparently the night.

Read and/or listen to it on AO3

Alright, you had known that Pittsburgh comes with cold weather in Winter, but you hadn’t minded that. It’s all about dressing accordingly. What you hate, however, is wind. The weather had been sunny and held only a light breeze when you’d left home this morning for work. You often program your washing machine to finish before you get up, in order for the laundry to be hung up or put in the dryer right after. The weather had been so nice, that you’d decided to put it outside today. Something that you very much regret as you look outside the window of your office and see the tree branches moving around like crazy. 

Nothing you can do about it now, unfortunately. 

Some hours later, you make your way home and hope that the silent prayer that you’d sent out to any deity that would listen had been heard, and that your clothes would still be hanging on the line outside. Parking in your usual spot, you quickly get out of the car to run up the porch to your house and enter it. You’re in your backyard a few seconds later and stop mid-stride once your eyes have landed on the clothesline. The empty, except for two shirts, clothesline. 

“Fuck,” you breathe vehemently, as you finally walk closer and retrieve the two items. 

You look around your backyard, over the hedges and fences, but there’s nothing. You curse colorfully while running back inside and throwing the shirts over the back of the couch. What now? Run around the neighborhood in the cold wind and near darkness to find your… You groan as you remember that most of the clothes had been underwear. Because of course. Great, the streets of Pittsburgh currently have your panties decorating other people’s houses, hedges and probably streetlamps. 

“Great. Just great,” you mutter to yourself, as you walk to the kitchen to fix yourself something hot to drink. Running around in the cold had chilled you to the bones. 

You’re leaning against the kitchen island while slowly sipping from a mug, when the doorbell rings, making you jerk in surprise since you’d been deep in thought about what to do next. Putting the mug down, you head to the door and quickly look through the peephole to check on the person on the other side. The sight of your neighbor makes you smile fondly, while you feel warmth heating your neck. 

“BJ, hey,” you smile warmly after opening the door. 

“Hey, neighbor.” BJ returns your smile with one of his own, his hair adorably windswept. 

Your face morphs into one of relief, quickly follow by intense embarrassment as you see what BJ is holding. A large laundry basket filled with your clothes. 

“Found those in my backyard earlier. I think I got everything, but I couldn’t see if something was lying on the other side of the fence.” He holds out the basket for you, and you take it as if on autopilot. 

“Thanks,” you manage to get out, the word sounding slightly strangled. You clear your throat. “Really, thank you. You just saved me from having to go shopping,” you chuckle awkwardly. 

“No problem. That’s what neighbors are for, right?”

You can read the amusement in his eyes at the situation, but he’s clearly holding back in the face of your embarrassment. 

“Want some coffee?” You wave him in with a nod towards the inside of your house. 

“Yeah, sure.” He nods and follows you before closing the door. You put the basket down in the hallway that gives to the living room before turning to BJ and leading him to the kitchen. 

“Gotta admit,” BJ starts as you fill another mug. “I pegged you for more of a DC kinda person, and not Marvel.”  

Startled, you set the coffee pot down while your eyes widen at the statement. You close them and utter a long groan, putting your face in your palms. You uncover your face at BJ’s small laugh, only to school your expression into a fake serious one. 

“What can I say? Frank Castle just does it for me.” You shrug nonchalantly as you think of your Punisher boy shorts. 

BJ chuckles and nods agreeably, thanking you when you hand him the coffee. 

“You saw any others worth mentioning?” You ask, before you realize what you’ve just said, as does BJ considering the way he chokes on the first sip of coffee. 

Shit, what is it with this guy that destroys any filters that you might have? As if the situation isn’t already embarrassing enough. BJ is being sweet about it, only teasing you playfully, and you go and ask whether he liked some of your panties. Especially because you know that you had also put some of your fancier panties into the washer. Only he had chosen to talk about the funnier ones. 

“Do not answer that.” You lift a hand, palm up in a stopping motion, and shake our head. 

BJ clears his throat and turns the mug around a few times in his hands. 

“What if I did?” BJ glances at you from under his lashes, his lip caught between his teeth almost shyly. 

How can this man be that unbearably hot while also being so incredibly sweet at the same time? 

The heat from your face runs through your whole body as his words sink in, and you realize just how close to each other you’re standing. You bite one side of your lower lip and smile gently. 

“I’m listening,” you say lightly. 

To your surprise, color slowly rises to BJ’s face as he looks away and clears his throat. 

“The – uh – the purple ones.” 

You immediately know which ones he’s talking about. They happen to be your favorite. 

“Oh, yeah, they’re… I’m wearing the blue version today, and-” Why would you say this? Why? “I – sorry – I didn’t mean to-”

“No. No, no, it’s fine. I get it. It’s-” BJ chuckles awkwardly. 

“That wasn’t a come on, you know. I just-”

“I know it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have said-”

“Of course, if you wanted it to be a come on, that’s fine with-” Abort. Abort. Shut up. 

“It’s fine, I – What?” 

You clamp your lips together to finally stop your panicked rambling and stare at BJ with wide eyes. 

“Nothing. Never mind,” you barely manage to keep the hysteria out of your small laugh as you begin to walk out of the kitchen. 

BJ catches you by an elbow as you pass him, his grip gentle. 

“What did you say?” He asks softly, as he gets you to face him again, his eyes trying to catch yours. 

“Never mind?” You hedge slowly. 

“Before that?” His hand is still on your arm, his thumb stroking up and down gently. You’re not entirely sure if BJ realizes that he’s doing it. 

You lick your lips and look to the side, while your heart is in your throat. 

“You heard me,” you mumble, losing the courage to repeat yourself. 

BJ’s other hand moves and slowly, tentatively, slides along your jaw and to the back of your head. 

“I did,” he half whispers, before leaning in at a slow pace, giving you the opportunity to back out if you wanted to. 

You don’t. 

You let him close the distance completely, your eyes falling shut at the first press of his lips against yours. Contrary to your rapid fire exchange only moments ago, the kiss is unhurried and soft, his lips sliding gently against yours. He wraps his arms around your waist, while you clutch his sweatshirt to keep him close. He’s the one to moan as your tongue strokes against his once you’ve decided to deepen the kiss. The pace hasn’t quickened, but the sound he just made sends a thrill of tenderness and lust to mix in your belly. BJ Rose is an endless paradox to you. 

BJ ends the kiss with a small press to the side of your mouth and sighs. 

“As much as I wanna keep doing that, Trey’s waiting for me. I told him I’d just be giving you your stuff back.” 

You nod mutely, but send him a small smile. 

“Yeah, of course.” 

You let go of him, while BJ’s arms take a second or two longer to do the same to you. You silently lead him to the entrance door and open it for him. 

“So, I’ll… call you later?” BJ wonders, hands in his pockets and rolling to the balls of his feet and back. 

You nod and bite your lip on a happy smile. 

“Thanks,” you call once he has stepped off your porch. He turns back towards you. “For my… clothes.” 

BJ grins and walks backwards. “One batch. Two batch. Penny and dime.” 

You laugh brightly and watch him go back home. 

@lucy-sky, @slavic-empress tagging you girls since I know you love him too 🧡