#it’s so exhausting taking time to say ‘sorry not happening tonight’ instead of ignoring

[sizablelad]

some men really do not know how to take no for an answer.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 2

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

*sorry for misnumbering

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The man catches you by surprise as he appears. You’re busy scraping out the bottom of the toaster as he stands silently at the counter. You smile over at him and call out for him to bear with you for a moment. You’re not sure how you didn’t hear him, even as you tried to chip away at the burnt crumbs. Xander never cleans it. 

“Hi, sir, sorry.” You dry off your hands as you approach. “Black coffee.” 

You punch in his order and he waits patiently to tap his smartwatch on the machine. He doesn’t say a word as you pour him a cup. It’s typical but unsettling nonetheless. 

“Oh, er, I think... I think last time there was a mix-up.” You say as you put his cup on the counter. He ignores you and goes to grab a sleeve and a lid. You follow as you dig around in your apron pocket. “Uh, sir, I think you gave me the wrong tip.” 

You bring the folded bill out of your pocket and hold it out. He doesn’t even look at it. Instead, his dark eyes bore into you. Oh. That’s scary. 

“No. I didn’t.” 

That’s it. He’s already halfway around before you can process his words. His tone hangs in the air and lingers even as the door opens and closes across the atrium. You rescind your arm and open up the bill. 

It’s a lot of money. You could use it but it just feels so wrong. You can’t help but feel indebted. Maybe because you’re used to bending over backwards for each cent. You’ll be smart. Put it away for an emergency. Those always seem to find you at the worst moment. 

Your shift comes to an end as the city skyline softens beneath the amber glow of sunrise. Dayani takes the keys and sends you off. You’re tempted to grab a coffee to go before you leave but you can’t. You need sleep. 

You come out onto the street and take your usual route. You cut behind the corner shop and around the short alleyway. As you come out on the other side, a shadow appears, as if splitting from the brick, and falls into step beside you. 

You stumble and glance over at the stranger. It’s that man. The one who always wears black and orders the same shade of coffee. 

“I don’t make mistakes,” he says. 

You’re too addled to respond. How did he find you? How did he know you’d come this way? 

You stop but only for a moment as he grabs your arm and lurches you forward. You whimper and struggle to keep in stride. His grip is tight and his fingertips jab painfully. 

“Sir? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to--” 

“You shouldn’t take shortcuts,” he reprimands, eyes set ahead of him as he drags you down your usual path. “It’s dangerous.” 

“Oh, ouch, sorry. I—what's happening?” You squeak as confusion muddles your thoughts. 

“Anyone could sneak up on you.” He doesn’t falter. You can hardly keep your feet moving as your adrenaline floods through your veins and narrows your vision. You glance around helplessly but the few bodies on the street don’t spare you a single look. 

“I’m sorry. Again. But—ow. Do you want your money back?” You try to shrug him off as he turns down your street. 

He’s silent as he marches on. He stops you in front of your building and angles you to face it. He keeps a hold of you. 

“Should be in this building. Locks janky. Any asshole can climb the fire escape.” He points along the side. “Or carry in an empty pizza box behind the elderly old lady who’s too helpful for her own good.” 

You wince and hold the air in your chest. “Sir?” 

“Night shift. Alone. That’s third. Stupid,” he snarls. 

“Sir, I—I have roommates and... and there’s cameras.” 

“And assholes wear masks or don’t give a shit,” he growls. 

You whine as he squeezes and you touch his hand. “Ow, please, you’re hurting me.” 

He shifts and looks down at his hand. He gives one last squeeze and releases you. He drops his arm straight and faces you. 

“Lots of men out there would hurt you worse.” 

You shake your head at him. You don’t understand. You’re not stupid. You’ve lived in the city long enough. 

“You leave just before eleven. At least you have the sense to stay in streetlights then. But you keep your head down and don’t look where you’re going,” he rebukes. “You don’t see your own shadow or the second one making sure no one else notices you.” 

You pout and flutter your lashes. The fear slowly rises up from your stomach to your chest until you’re choked dumb. His mouth slants. 

“You should use that money for a can of mace. Maybe a taser.” He squares his shoulders and looks you up and down. “Or maybe I’ll just keep my eye on you.” 

You flounder, lips twitching, and he puts his back to you. He stalks off without another word or another look. You watch him until he’s only a speck in the cityscape. 

What the heck was that? 

[dalilacherie]

i saw your request were open and if it isnt too much to ask could you maybe write dally x tim cuddling after tim patching dally up ? if its not too much for you to write that is.

𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝

[𝐃𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐓𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐝]

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: I'm so sorry for this being late!! Also, Ignore the pictures. I had a hard time finding ones that matched the story. We can infer.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1,173

Dallas Winston sat on the edge of Tim Shepard's worn-out couch, his jaw set tight as he clenched his teeth against the pain. Tim was kneeling on the floor in front of him, a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol and a wad of cotton balls scattered around him. The small living room was dimly lit by a single lamp, casting long shadows on the walls.

Dally's shirt lay discarded on the floor, revealing a nasty gash running across his ribs. Blood had dried around the wound, and the skin around it was bruised and swollen. Tim worked silently, his hands steady as he cleaned the cut. He didn't say much; he never did. Talking wasn't Tim's way, but he was good with his hands, good at taking care of things that needed doing.

Dally winced as the alcohol touched his skin, a low hiss escaping through his teeth. He glanced at Tim, whose expression remained unreadable, his dark eyes focused on the task at hand. Dally knew Tim wasn't one for showing emotions, but there was a certain gentleness in the way he was handling the wound.

Tim finished cleaning the cut and tossed the bloodied cotton ball into a nearby trash can. He reached for a roll of bandages, his fingers deftly unrolling it and wrapping it around Dally's torso. The fabric was rough against Dally's skin, but the pressure of the bandage was reassuring, a reminder that someone was there, someone to patch him up.

"There," Tim said quietly, securing the end of the bandage. He sat back on his heels, studying his work. "That should hold for now. You need to take it easy for a few days, let it heal."

Dally snorted, a hint of his usual bold tone slipping through despite the pain. "Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen."

Tim didn't argue. He knew Dally too well. They had been through too much together, seen too many fights, too many close calls. Tim stood up, his joints popping as he stretched. He looked down at Dally, his gaze softening just a fraction.

"You should get some rest," Tim said. "You can crash here tonight. Couch ain't much, but it's better than nothing."

Dally opened his mouth to protest, but the words died in his throat. He was too tired, too beat up to argue. Instead, he nodded, the movement small and reluctant. Tim's offer was practical.

Tim disappeared into the small kitchen, returning with a blanket and a couple of pillows. He tossed them onto the couch beside Dally, then hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him. The couch creaked under their combined weight, the springs protesting the sudden load.

They sat in silence for a while, the quiet stretching out between them. Dally leaned back, his head resting against the couch cushions. He closed his eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over him. Tim's presence was a steady anchor.

After a while, Tim shifted, his arm brushing against Dally's. It was a small, almost accidental touch, but it was enough to make Dally open his eyes. He turned his head slightly, looking at Tim through half-lidded eyes.

"You okay?" Tim asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dally nodded. "Yeah. Just tired."

Tim didn't say anything, but he moved closer, his shoulder pressing against Dally's. It was a subtle gesture, but it spoke volumes. Dally let out a slow breath, feeling some of the tension drain out of him. He reached up, his fingers brushing against Tim's arm.

Tim settled back, his body relaxing against the cushions. He shifted slightly, making room for Dally to lean against him. It was an awkward arrangement, two tough guys trying to find a way to be close without making a big deal out of it. But they managed, finding a way to fit together that felt right.

Dally rested his head on Tim's shoulder, his eyes drifting shut. The pain in his side was still there, a dull throb that he couldn't ignore, but it was easier to bear with Tim beside him. Tim's hand came to rest on Dally's arm, a light touch that grounded him, kept him from slipping too far into the darkness.

They stayed like that for a long time, the room silent except for the sound of their breathing. Dally's breaths grew slower, deeper, as he started to drift off.

The next morning, Dallas stirred awake, blinking against the early morning light filtering through the threadbare curtains. His neck throbbed with a dull, persistent ache, a result of sleeping in an awkward position on the worn-out couch. He winced as he tried to move, feeling the stiffness in his muscles.

With a groan, he slowly pushed himself up, one hand rubbing at the crook in his neck. The house was silent, save for the distant sounds of traffic outside. The air felt cooler, a slight draft coming through a crack in the window. He glanced around, the events of the previous night coming back to him in hazy fragments.

The small living room was empty, and Tim was nowhere to be seen. The blanket and pillows were still there, evidence of Tim's quiet care, but the man himself was gone. Dally felt a pang of disappointment, a sense of loneliness creeping in as he realized he was alone again.

Dally shifted on the couch, the blanket slipping off his shoulders. He remembered how Tim had carefully draped it over him. He could still feel the warmth of Tim's body beside him, the steady rise and fall of his chest as they had settled into an uneasy, but comforting closeness.

After Dallas had finally let his guard down and admitted to being tired, Tim had moved closer, their bodies aligning awkwardly but fitting together in a way that felt right. The lines of their bodies softened by the shared exhaustion. Tim's shoulder had provided a firm support for Dally's aching head, and the slow, even rhythm of Tim's breathing had lulled him into a deeper state of relaxation.

Tim's arm had remained draped over Dally's, the contact gentle yet grounding. It wasn't often that either of them allowed such vulnerability, but in the quiet of Tim's house, with the world shut out, it felt like the most natural thing. They had stayed like that for hours, the initial awkwardness melting into a comfortable silence, disturbed only by the occasional shifting to find a better position.

Dally had drifted in and out of sleep, the pain in his side. But with Tim beside him, it had been easier to bear. There had been moments when Dally had woken slightly, feeling Tim's fingers lightly tracing patterns on his arm.

Now, as he sat on the edge of the couch, the morning light casting a glow across the room, the memories of the night before felt distant. The ache in his neck was a small price to pay for the brief time with Tim. He reached for his shirt, pulling it on carefully to avoid aggravating his wound.

[gumigo]

~ Hihii, here comes my little heart breaker. It's all fluff in the end, so don't worry ;)

~ Sarah

____________________________________________

Tattooed Heart | word count: 2009

Satoru × Reader

• You and Satoru have been a couple for quiet some time now. You have even been dating since your days at Jujutsu Hjgh, but with your now completely different schedules you two haven't been seeing each other a lot, despite living in the same apartment.

It has been rough on you two, both of you being deprived of each other, stressed in each their own way but no one to lean on. Sadness and frustration grew with each day you twos schedule works passed each other.

It might have been the cause of slight arguments turning into bigger once in the small time frame you do see each other.

____________________________________________

It's close to 12 pm, you got stuck up with a spontaneous mission. You didn't even have time to text Satoru. Which wouldn't just go pass him.

"Y/N?"

His voice was already heated and all that was left to give him was a sigh. You had no energy to even try to fight him today.

You walk into the livingroom, with him just standing there. watching you agitated.

"Hey... I'm sorry I got hold up-"

"That's what you always say. Everytime. While I sit here waiting for you."

Another big sigh left you. God, was it infuriating.

"What do you think I'm doing when you're gone late?"

Your voice may sounded a bit more pissed than intended.

"Oh, atleast I have the courtesy to text you and don't let you worry the whole night!"

His voice got loud and the last few weeks came rushing into your head in seconds. All you did was fight if you even saw each other. Sometimes you guys didn't see each other for days straight. This was a nightmare.

You closed you eyes and ran through your hair, trying to ignore the stinging in your eyes and throat.

"... I brought food... I didn't know if you ate."

You're voice was strained and quiet. Your energy was not enough to fight him tonight. All you wanted was a hug from him. One so sincere. The one you guys used to share everyday.

Instead, you were walking into the kitchen, putting down the take out food and seeing  the mess you two left in the sink.

You laughed. Out of frustration.

"What's funny?"

He was still mad. But you were too.

"The dishes. I asked you two times to do them. Because I knew I wouldn't have time..."

You shook your head in disbelief and still laughing. This was too exhausting. But at this point, was it your lives or just the two of you?

"... I was... I was worried sick because you didn't answer... You can't just not answer for hours!"

In the way he talked, you could sense this was much more than him just being annoyed. It was frustration. Anger. Sadness, if you dare to guess.

When you looked over, it confirmed it all. His face, rather worried and soft than agitated and angry like it was before.

It was a relieve to see his face but it confused you even more about what was happening.

"Satoru, what the hell..."

You pushed yourself up against the sink, letting your head fall down, failing to suppress what you have been suppressing for weeks.

Some tears start falling down your cheeks as you tried to gather yourself.

"...Baby..."

Satorus voice sounded so soft. Softer than it has been in the last few weeks.

"What are we doing?"

Your voice broke entirely, way too worked up to try to calm yourself.

Hesitantly, Satoru came closer. Unsure how to react. Normally he would just hug you, so tight, until it felt better. Or talk to you if you needed that. But... This time around, he wasn't sure. He wasn't sure what to do. So many things happened, it felt like the two of you lost a part of each other. He hoped that wasn't true. The two of you were what he had the most faith in. He couldn't lose that. Not you.

"I... don't know..."

He whispered as a response. Tears were forming in his eyes aswell, as he watched you hurt. Hurt by everything you two have been doing. He never thought you two would be able to hurt each other like this.

"I don't... god, those dishes are disgusting."

Your distracted by the smell of the dishes which made you step away from the sink fast, still sobbing.

"I'm sorry... I should've done the dishes... but you should've-"

"It's not about the damn dishes!"

You screamed. Never did you scream at him like that. Not with so much offense. And his reaction surely told you he never suspected you to react like that.

His eyes are big and a wave of dissapointment was visibly washing over him.

"I miss you..."

Those words tremble over your lips as your sobs grew louder.

That was it. That was all to it there was. You missed him. Those dishes? Done in 30 minutes. Who cares. But you can't remember the last time you talked about anything else than what was bothering. You can't remember the last hug you two shared. It was aweful. All you wanted was him to be the boyfriend again you had a year ago. Watching random movies and not making it past the first 30 minutes without him getting a little too distracted by you. Or crashing on each other after a long day, not caring what happened as long as the other person layed beside you. It all came down to just wanting back the little goodnight and good morning kisses, even if the other person wasn't fully awake yet.

You hugged yourself as you desprately followed every little movement he made.

His eyes dropped soft, his shoulders relaxed and he was finally back to seeing you. The you he thought he lost for a moment. But he didn't. He saw you right there, sad, frustrated and desperate. Everything he was aswell. He doesn't remember the last time they ate dinner together. Nor does he remember the last time there was a smile on her face when he entered the room, which was something he missed so dearly. He missed it all. Even your annoying little karaoke sessions in the morning when he was still asleep. God, did he miss you.

"... I miss you, too."

His whisper was barely audible but enough for you to hear. He came closer once again and just wrapped his arms around you. In such a captivating way, that you thought he would never let you leave. And nothing less you gave back.

His warm embrace relaxed you so easily. You forgot how soothing his touch was. You felt his heart beat slow down and his head sinking into your neck. His breath was warm on your neck.

You leaned your whole body against his, feeling safe and sound right there.

Your arms were caressing his back slighty, which made him calm down so easy. He loved it. Qhen he felt you leaning against him, he smiled. You finally felt safe enough to do this again. He placed a gentle kiss on your neck, realizing how much he missed your soft skin, your scent and your warmth.

You shrug as his lips touch your neck and a giggle left your mouth.

"Ticklish? Hm.. that's new."

He teased as he continued to spread some kisses on your neck. He knew damn well you were sensitive right there.

"You're annoying."

You giggled as you looked up to him, forcing him away from your neck. A smug smile was planted in his lips and his eyes were loving, just how you remembered. You missed those eyes.

He saw your red eyes, flushed cheeks complimented by your adorable smile. It hurt him to see your exhausted eyes but he enjoyed the love behind them. He couldn't fathom how someone could look so adorable and loving.

"Can't we just do this instead of screaming at each other?"

He whispered against your lips softly, nodging your nose in the process.

"I'm down."

You whisper back making his eyes light up.

"I... have a better idea."

He let's go off you and walks around the kitches island. Dumbfounded, you stood there, feeling empty and cold after his warmth disappeared.

A few clicks on his phone later, the kitchen was filled with music. You recognized the song immediately, it being one of the many songs you guys put together on a playlist. Slow and beautiful, romantic, cheesy if you will. A curios smile was written on your face, meeting his favorable grin.

He stepped back to you, holding his right hand out for you to reach. A laugh left you.

"May I?"

His voice, playful and determined. Who are you to say no?

When he got your hand, he pulled you close. One of his hands landing on your waist while the hand holding the hand you gave him held it steady, caressing yours slightly. Your remaining hand laying on his  chest.

"You're cheesy."

You teased, knowing very well that you liked it. He knew that aswell.

"Remember who put the song in the playlist..."

He whispered into your ear as he slowly began moving the two of you to the music. Slow, steady and  gentle.

The movements were soft, intimate and everything you needed that night. You couldn't hold back your giggles when his eyes met yours. It felt like you were fifteen again, even if it was just for a moment.

His heart was full when he saw you blush slightly at his glance. Your laugh was the one thing he missed most. It used to lighten up the whole room but it seemed dimmed lately. But your giggles made his face light back up.

"There's my girl..."

His words made her heart ache. She knew she wasn't her usual self. Just like he wasn't his. Feeling each other like this again felt like a blessing.

"... Those dishes still have to get cleaned, though."

You teased making his eyes roll back.

In the same breath, he made you turn your back to him so he could hug you from behind and lean his head gently on your shoulder, never once leaving the movement to the music behind.

"I'll do them when we're finished here."

Softly, he left a kiss on your cheek. Like a reassurance to not worry.

"We can do them together. Less time, more fun."

He laughed slightly, hugging you tightly.

"I don't think I'll ever be entertained by washing dishes."

His voice sounded rather disgusted at the thought of washing dishes. Granted. They were disgusting.

"I'll gag the whole time. Laugh at that or something."

Playfully annoyed I answered.

"Let's gag together, then."

Both of you chuckled. His head leaned against yours. He didn't want to move on from this. At this point, the dancing conisted out of swaying left and right. But it was peaceful.

"... Can you text me next time your out late? I was really worried."

He asked hesitantly.

"I will. I'm sorry. It was very on the spot."

He sighs in relief.

"It's alright."

You smiled. That's how it should be. No unreasonable arguing. Just understanding.

You turned back around to him, staring up into his blue piercing eyes.

"Let's do this always like this. No screaming. No harsh arguing. I don't want to spend the little time we have screaming at each other."

He smiled. Nodding.

"I don't even know how we let it get that far."

Gently he pushed back one of your hairstrains behind your ear with all the care in the world. It was clear no one wanted to hurt each other here. Just two young adults stumbling on their way into adulthood.

You shook your head, not wanting to think too much about what exactly let it get that far.

"Doesn't matter. It's done and over."

He agreed with a small nod.

"Let's eat the food I brought... Uh! And let's watch movie... we can do the dishes after... Oh, do you have to be up early?... Please say no."

You tried to move away to get the food quickly, atleast wanting to eat with him but he held you right there. Smiling down at you.

"I love you. No matter what happened or happens, I love you."

Startled you tried to look through him. All his eyes gave away were sincerity. It's been a while since those words sounded so sincere. Not muttered under his breath, no. Facing you, saying them loud and cleary.

"I love you, too. A ton, actually. Forgotten dishes are not going to be the reason I will stop loving you."

Both your laughters filled the room with light, for the first time in months.

[adeliniel]

an alphabet with Eomer would be amazing! I also love the idea of him walking in on reader changing and becoming a blushing flustered mess. and I know it's cliche but maybe a fluffy "there was only one bed" trope where reader is riding along with the rohirrim and they stop for the night only to find they're short a tent so she'll have to stay with him. truly anything for Eomer would be great, I have slightly fallen in love with him🥺 feel free to take only what inspires you out of these ideas and leave the rest. I'm sure anything you write will be wonderful. thank you!!!!!!

Dear Anon, I'm so sorry it took me so much time to write your request. Actually, I finished the story about two weeks ago, just didn't have time to publish it.

Hope you (and others as well) will anjoy it!

One bed story | Eomer

- Oh, c’mon, mister “I’m the bravest Rohirrim”, it’s just a bed!

- Yeah, it’s just the bed, – he said quietly to himself, turning around his face.

Oh no, it wasn’t “just a bed” for him, it was a full night with the woman he loves with all his heart, with the woman he desires most of all in this fucking one narrow bed.

- I’ll go get some air, - he said, so incomprehensible you could barely figure out, - so when you’d be ready, just go to sleep.

You skeptically raised an eyebrow, but he left sooner that you could say a word.

/

Eomer was frustrated, to put it mildly. First you ignored his command to stay in town and mind your own business. Yet he knew you so well, that when he found out you joined the raid, it didn’t surprise or anger him. He just sighed wearily.  

Your curiosity and desire to know everything in the world has impressed him since the days when you were children. Eomer remembered how you always stuck your nose in the wrong place, and then you got reprimanded from Theoden. And even the punishment, which was usually the cleaning of stables, never stopped you from looking for new adventures. Needless to say, his words and requests did not make you stay at home. Like any of your most inappropriate and strange actions could not make him give up loving you.

The man rubbed his face with his palm again, as if it might help remove or hide such an inappropriate blush.

“Damn you, (…)”.

/

- I'm not sleeping, so no need to sneak, - you said, barely holding back a smile, watching Eomer's shadow freeze. You didn't look at him, but you felt how tense he was.

Clearing his throat, the man straightened up, but could not dare to take even a few steps to bed. Different thoughts filled his head, from how he could go to bed with a woman who didn't belong to him, to whether he could look you in the eye tomorrow if something… unexpected happens tonight.

- I'll probably stand guard today, - he said awkwardly, never daring to look at you, and he was about to turn around and leave when you dropped the blanket and jumped out of bed indignantly.

- Eomer, what’s up?! Why are you avoiding me? – you stood before him in a nightgown, and Eomer did not know where to turn his eyes. – You know, we're not kids anymore, and if you suddenly don't like me, you can tell me about it directly, instead of playing hide and seek.

- No, no, it's not like that, (…) - for the first time in the whole trip he looked at you and for a second you even lost confidence, so miserable and exhausted he seemed to you in the light of several candles in the wind.

- Then what makes you constantly look away? - you were going to get answers to all your questions today and now. - Why don't you talk to me? What...

- I love you, (…), - Eomer interrupted you, and it seemed to you that his voice broke, as if he was about to cry. - I have loved you for a long time. And I do love you very much.

- Eomer, - you whispered his name, covering your mouth with your palms and shaking your head in denying.

He smiled bitterly as he looked at the shock you were in.

- You didn't even think about it, did you? When you flirted with my soldiers or when you danced with foreign ambassadors…

His words brought you back to reality and you suddenly laughed.

- No, I had no idea it made you jealous, - you took a step in his direction, smiling sincerely. - Because usually men in love do not look at their chosen ones so sullenly and do not order them in a commanding tone "do not even dare to think about going beyond Edoras."

You copied his manner of speaking, and blush appeared on Eomer's cheeks.

- I'm incredibly worried about you, - he said, not falling into your playful tone and speaking seriously, though the atmosphere in the tent became less tense. - I'm very afraid of losing you.

You took a few more steps toward him, and now Eomer had a chance to take your palms in his.

- I know, - you said softly, looking him in the eye and gently stroking the rough skin of his palm with the thumbs of your hands. - And you know that you can not lock me in the castle and make me sit and wait until all the fun is happening outside.

- Yes, I do, - he agreed, and you could feel him gradually calming down and starting to feel comfortable around you.

- Do you have anything to say to my confession? - he asked almost in a whisper, not sure if he wanted to know your answer.

-  I’ll better show you, - you grinned mischievously before kissing him passionately, while undoing his armor. 

/

Thank you very much for reading it.

You can find more of my stories right here

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Sleepovers At The Baji Household feat. A Fed-Up Chifuyu

Summary: Chifuyu just wants to sleep, man, but Baji wants to be a jealous crackhead at 2 AM.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Note(s): I had a little free time and wrote this. So, please enjoy! ALSO, to the anon that sent me a request a few days ago, I saw it and have it filed on my to-do list!!! I will definitely get to it as soon as I get a break in my schedule :)

"Chifuyu, ya wanna see some real discrimination?"

No. No, Chifuyu does not want to see what Baji means by 'real discrimination.'

Does he tell him that, though?

Yes, actually, because it's 2 in the fucking morning and, as much as he respects the other boy, he wouldn't put it past himself to smother him with a pillow after having his dream of cuddling with a sea of puppies suddenly destroyed.

Unfortunately for his sanity, Baji either doesn't hear him or, more likely than not, doesn't give a fuck, because he's already flopping onto his belly and whipping out his phone to do God knows what.

The dial tone that sounds from the speaker a few seconds later makes Chifuyu cringe, especially since it's only ever been a calm silence fit for a good night's sleep prior to Baji bulldozing through it with his absurd question. (At the very least, he's thankful that the latter has half a mind to keep the brightness on the lowest setting, otherwise, Chifuyu would have had to fight.)

On the far end of the row of carefully-laid futons, you shift in your sleep, eyebrows furrowing together at the noise. Rotating onto your side, you unconsciously reach for Baji, and just when he thinks you're being cute and trying to cuddle him, you smack him in the head.

Baji doesn't flinch, instead, takes his pillow and shoves it in your grasp to keep your unconscious self occupied, so that he can focus on getting through to the person who reuses to pick up (understandably so).

Releasing a frustrated groan after being redirected to voice mail for the fifth time, he dials the number again, muttering an impatient, "Pick up already."

Chifuyu feels sorry for the poor soul on the other end. He would've blocked someone following the first call, because again, it's-

The blond has to squint his eyes up at the digital clock on Baji's nightstand, which confirms that it's already 2:22 A.M, further solidifying the fact that he shouldn't be awake right now. And this also applies to the ever persistent first division captain, who insists on bothering who Chifuyu soon discovers is Mikey from the contact ID that flashes across the screen.

Why Baji is so keen on bothering him is a question he doesn't have the mental capacity to ponder over. The most energy he'll expend is to listen in when the call miraculously connects.

"What...?" comes a muffled voice from the receiver, tone laced in an irked grogginess birthed from a slumber rudely interrupted.

There's an absurdly loud, almost angry, roar of Mikey's name, one that has Chifuyu curling in on himself in a futile attempt to escape a sound that should be illegal at this hour.

But you know what else should be illegal?

The fucking whiplash Chifuyu gets when Baji's deep voice takes an abrupt 180°, switching from its normal gruffness to a squeaky, ear-piercing shrill as he screams, "I love you, love you, love you! Do you love me, too, Mikey-kyun~♡?!"

The room is dead silent.

Not a word. Not a murmur. Not a breath.

Just pure, unadulterated silence as both Chifuyu and Mikey process the words that hang in the air, permeating it with a goosebumps-inducing eeriness from having heard such a...a girly, overtly cutesy screech from Baji.

Then-

"What the fuck? He hung on me!"

Chifuyu opens his mouth, thinks better of reacting to the cursed scene he had the misfortune of bearing witness to, and promptly closes it.

Other people may have sleep paralysis demons.

But Chifuyu?

Chifuyu has Baji.

With both hands partially raised in prayer, he begs for the shenanigans to be over and done with.

They are not.

While his eyes remain closed in a last ditch effort to convince himself that it's all a bad dream, he hears a lot of grumbling happening on your side of the room, courtesy of Baji, who's scrambling around in search of...something. One quick peek reveals him fiddling with a phone - yours, to be exact, as evidenced by the distinctive phone charm of your favorite anime character hanging from it.

"(Y/n), wake up for a second," he hears him whisper. It takes a bit of prompting, until he's able to successfully rouse you enough from sleep to elicit any kind of response, which is, essentially, nothing short of an incoherent, slurred mess. Although, Chifuyu is pretty damn certain he heard you call Baji a 'dickhead' for the trouble.

Unperturbed, he continues shaking your limp form, coaxing you into wakefulness with, "Repeat what I tell you, and I'll let you go back to asleep. Deal?"

You squint your eyes at him, only able to make out a vague outline of his visage in the lightless room. "Promise?"

"Cross my heart, hope to die," he automatically responds with the same phrase he's become accustomed to saying whenever you two made a promise, something done purely out of habit, formed when the two of you were just kids and he wanted to get you to do something absolutely ridiculous either for him or with him. And just 'cause he knows you're more susceptible to complying if he does it, he also interlocks his pinky with yours.

"...Fine."

The approval is his cue to proceed, and it's as he's putting the phone on speaker that he turns back to a regretfully wide awake Chifuyu, mouthing a wordless, 'Watch.'

The phone rings, loud and clear, precisely once and only once.

"(Y/n), what's wrong?" It's important to note that even though Mikey still sounds tired as hell, his tone is much lighter, much happier really, than when it was Baji, which is an offense in itself to the said teen that's off to the side, attentively listening to the conversation unfold.

Then, it strikes Chifuyu, what Baji is trying to do, and fuck does it give him an instant headache.

Meanwhile, your mouth morphs into the dopiest of smiles with the pleasant surprise of hearing your boyfriend's voice, chest instantly overtaken by a warm fuzziness that never fails to make an appearance whenever he's involved. Sappy, you know, but it's true!

A light but firm nudge to your shoulder reminds you of your mission. It's too bad that, teetering along the edge of sleep as you are, the words Baji whispers are barely repeated correctly.

The initial phrase from before, the one Baji greeted Mikey with, is shortened to a simple, "You wuv I...?"

But, without missing a beat, you receive Mikey's confident reply of, "Mhm... I wuv you a lot."

There's a sleepy giggle then - a fucking giggle - before your voices drop to sweet whispers that the third and fourth wheels can't fully comprehend from where they are.

"Where the fuck was my 'I wuv you,' huh?!" Baji whisper-shouts, considerate of your conversation even when ranting and raving. "Shit, I would've taken a simple 'I love you,' too! I've known that bastard way longer than (Y/n), and this is what I get?!"

Okay. Toman's president answers his boyfriend's late night calls faster than he does anyone else's and openly expresses his love for him. So what? Chifuyu wouldn't exactly call it 'discrimination,' per se. 'Favoritism,' maybe if you wanna stretch it, but using as strong a word as discrimination, especially taking into account you two are dating; it's normal? Nah.

"You wanna say 'bye' to them? Mm. Baji and Chifuyu." A pause. "Fuyu, Mikey says 'bye.'"

"Bye, Mikey-kun."

The other person in the room waits, and waits, and waits, and when it's clear that there is no intention to address his presence whatsoever, Baji turns to Chifuyu with an almost scandalized expression, making wild gesticulations with his hands, clearly distressed. "See?!"

Blank blue eyes stare back at him, unblinking. Honestly, it's a common occurrence - Baji spiraling in a nonsensical rage - so it's easy for Chifuyu to block out the muted, jealousy-driven temper tantrum as he takes his pillow in both hands, raises it as high as he can, and-

Sigh.

-lets it flop right back onto his face.

He can't suffocate Baji. Shouldn't. Wouldn't. Couldn't. After all, they're best buds, meaning he has an obligation to put up with shit like this once in a while. (Plus, he'd probably get his ass kicked before he succeeds anyway. Totally not worth the beating.)

"Did you hear? Mikey said he wuvs me," he hears you drawl dreamily as soon as you hang up, sounding very close to clocking back out for the night.

"Yeah, yeah. Cute shit. Happy for ya, dude," Baji huffs. Thankfully, he sounds like he's in a similar state to yours, if the yawn that follows his sarcastic comment is anything to go by.

"...He soooo ignored you."

That warrants a punishing punch to the arm, dulled only slightly by the combination of the thick quilt you're swaddled in and the raven-haired boy's fatigue.

"I'll fucking throw you out right now, (Y/n). Don't test me."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Won't."

"Will."

The conversation gradually dies down shortly after, the exhaustion that took its sweet time getting to both of you having reached its peak with the help of the childish bickering. It takes 10 minutes, maybe 15, before two sets of light snores fill the room.

Finally.

Let it be known that there is a lesson to be learned from tonight's events. Really, there is. Y'know, something along the lines of 'Don't agree to a sleepover with Baji, if you plan on actually sleeping,' or whatever.

Alas, Chifuyu's consciousness fades before he realizes what it is.

~~~

"Mikey, be honest. Who do you love more? Me or-?"

"(Y/n)."

"But-"

(Y/n)."

"I-"

"(Y/n)."

Baji is only momentarily discouraged, sharp eyes glaring at the blond that lays his head on your lap after hi-fiving you. He didn't want to do this, but he's left with no choice.

"(Y/n) or Babu?"

From the way Mikey stiffens up, refusing to look at either him or you in the eyes, Baji knows he has him right where he wants him, has him torn between a cute face or a sweet ride.

"Oi! Don't pretend to be asleep! Answer the damn question! OI!"

(After hours of serious contemplation - even though you told him it doesn't particularly matter - it's revealed that, of course, Mikey loves you more. Babu just happens to trail behind as a very close second.)

[pies-writes-and-more]

Hii how about an Ushijima x GN Reader where they're married and then got into a fight which stretches into days of the reader ignoring Ushiwaka and he'll get reminded of what happened with his parents and all that, angst to fluff btw. (You could also changed anything you want in the plot, just please make it an angst to fluff, I can't handle angst endings ;-;) that's all thamk you vmuch!

word count: 3,613

pairing: ushijima wakatōshi x gn!reader (as usual, pls let me know if you find something gendered!)

warnings: sad angsty vibes at the beginning, a lot of worry but it's all fluffy at the end!

a/n: bare with me yall, this might not be that great lol i feel like im losing my touch with writing so im sorry if it shows. thanks so much @mistomu for requesting this though! (i also can't handle angsty endings so i hope this was good enough!!!) this idea is v based on my own feelings so i hope it reads nicely! EDIT: the original post says “she seemed...empty” when Ushi talks to Tendō, which is totally my bad. Thank you to the anon who let me know! I’ve corrected it now :)

haikyuu masterlist

This fight was not like other fights you had had with Ushijima. You loved your husband and all of his quirks, and yet, when you showed up at home with a duffle bag packed, asking your mom to just stay over for a few days, you had cried for hours, wondering if Ushijima was slowly falling out of love with you. Was he really just too busy? Or was Ushijima Wakatōshi falling out of love with you?

Tournament season was always really difficult for the two of you - you never got to see him as much, but with how busy your own work was getting, the two of you thought maybe it would be okay this time around. Especially after you two had gotten married and moved in together - maybe things would be okay.

As you leaned back in your seat, staring at the wedding ring on your finger, you wondered if it was ever going to be okay again. Or maybe this was just the new normal. You had told your mom you'd just be going out for some fresh air, and yet you didn't feel like you were in a good state to be driving. So here you were, in some random parking lot, staring out the window like all the energy had been drained from your body as you replayed that night over and over again in your head.

You could remember almost every word that was said in that first argument. It hadn't helped that Ushijima was exhausted from training - all he had wanted to do was come home, and flop onto the bed for some much needed sleep. But that's what he wanted to do every night and you were struggling at work and needed any level of comfort. You just wanted him to hug you, to hold you and tell you things were going to be okay.

But when you had tried to tell him you needed him, Ushijima had held up his hand tiredly, barely even looking at you as he commented, "Not tonight, Y/N, I'm tired."

His legs had dragged themselves into your shared room, a dismissive air left behind him. Your brow furrowed as it sank in - why did everyone dismiss you so easily? You told your boss you had needed more time to get the project done, and even though he told you you could take your time, he ended up throwing you under the bus to upper management. Your coworkers all seemed to be taking their sweet time on their own portions, no one was helping, and you wanted to pull your hair out in clumps.

You felt like time was slipping past you too quickly, like your whole days were consumed by work, and yet all you wanted was to be comforted by your partner. A hug that told you that you were doing just enough.

But instead what you got was a husband who clearly wanted sleep. And maybe you should've given it to him. But why did his needs always seem to trump yours? He needed a certain diet so you went out to buy all of his new ingredients, helped make new dishes for him to try. He needed to get up in the mornings and always seemed to do so so loudly, so you had to give up on precious moments of sleep. He had a game this year on your anniversary, so you planned a different date and he just came along for the ride. Now he was too tired, and you just had to sit here and pretend like everything was fine.

Maybe I should have just sat there, maybe I should have pretended things were fine, you thought to yourself as you slunk further into your seat. Maybe we could've talked about it the morning after, maybe I could've just crawled into bed with him and cuddled him then. Maybe then we wouldn't be arguing.

Your phone rang for the 5th time since you had sat yourself here in this parking lot. You knew it was Ushijima, calling again to make sure you were okay, to ask where you were, to nag about your whereabouts. But no, you decided in your petty attitude, this time he could wait for you.

Ushijima and you had been far from the world's most perfect couple. You had known the two of you had vast differences in the ways you loved and the ways you communicated. And yet, there was something so attractive about the way he existed when you first met him. He was honest, determined, and knew exactly what he wanted from life. Sure, he wasn't the most informed when it came to how to talk to parnters or how to communicate his thoughts regarding relationships, but the two of you used to laugh about it, you used to treat every little disagreement as something that you could both work on. So when did it start becoming things that only you were working on? He used to at least spend some time with you - or try to - when things got busy... but this season felt different.

You were not a perfect partner, and you knew that. You kept things buried inside of you, you let things boil up, you didn't communicate, as Ushijima loved to point out to you, but was it so bad to want him to understand that sometimes you wanted him to initiate things? He knew you liked to be hugged some days when it was hard at work, so why had he never come to you and hugged you without you asking? Why hadn't he ever thought about doing anything other than coming home and sleeping?

Your mom's words rang through your mind yet again as you stared off into the clouds - could you be losing the man you once considered your soulmate?

Ushijima's heart fell once more as he heard the beginning of your voicemail once again. Every time he would wait for that little beep letting him know he could leave a voicemail if he wanted, and every time he would hang up right before he had to say anything. Because what was he supposed to say?

He stared at the empty couch in front of him as he stood in the living room, as if you would magically pop out of the cushions to let him know this was all just a trick. A prank. A joke.

That's what this had to be right? It was just a joke right?

Ushijima gripped his phone a bit tighter as he scolded himself internally for thinking that. Sure, maybe after the first night, it could've been a prank. But this was the 3rd night in a row that you had been gone when he came home. He had glanced at your closet, noting that some clothes had disappeared, some of your shoes too.

A pain tugged at his heart as he remembered the yelling match the two of you had gotten yourselves into - he strained his memory, trying to remember just what the climax of it had been. He hadn't hugged you... hadn't consoled you, even when you were crying while the two of you were arguing, this time he hadn't reached out to you to hold your hand, wipe away your tears.

This time he had been so tired from training, he just stood there, staring at you with that blank face he always reverted to. You told him he was always too busy to think of you, and he had told you he was trying to be the best. Because the best is what makes him worthy, the best is what keeps money coming in. He was doing this for himself, sure, but he was doing it for you too - he wanted you to be happy in your future. And yet, you seemed so unhappy with him now.

Ushijima took his phone back out, fingers typing out another text to send your way:

Please Y/N, please just let me know you're okay. We can talk this out. Please come home.

Ushijima stared at the text as it joined the many others he had sent you. Three days and he hadn't heard so much of a peep from you. He had Tendō check in on you sometime yesterday, just to make sure you were alive and not murdered somewhere. You had told Tendō you were alive, but refused to say anything more than that.

"Must be some big argument, huh?" Tendō had hummed when he called Ushijima to update him. "They seemed... empty." And that had made Ushijima feel even worse.

He waited a few minutes, watching eagerly as if waiting for you to respond but no response ever came. Why wouldn't you just talk to him? Why did you always have to hide everything inside? How was he supposed to make things better if you didn't say anything? How was he supposed to know you were upset with just your tone of voice?

The volleyball player winced a bit as he thought back to how hurt you had sounded when you first begged him to just hold you. Why hadn't he just reached out and hugged you? Had he been so exhausted he couldn't just hear about your day?

As if on cue, Ushijima felt another pang in his chest as he thought back to how similar the argument you two had sounded to the ones his parents used to have. Yelling and crying, both of them always sounding angry and hurt.

He had sworn off relationships at first, reminding himself that volleyball was all that really mattered. He wanted to be the best, wanted to reach the pinnacle of volleyball and he didn't need a relationship to get there. He didn't want to get hurt - he had watched his parents both cry quietly in different rooms, watched as one parent would always ignore the other and disappear, until one day his dad was packing his bags and leaving.

Is that what you had done? Ushijima's eyes whirled around the apartment, looking for any sign that you would be coming back. Your clothes weren't all gone so you had to come back right? Your favourite foods were still in the pantry, the accessories you had received from friends were still on the bedside table so... you had to come back right?

Volleyball had been all that mattered to him... until he met you. Ushijima met you and suddenly it didn't matter if he could get hurt - he wanted to be with you. Every moment of free time he had, he wanted to be with you. When did that stop? Ushijima stretched his mind, trying to think of why he hadn't hugged you, why didn't he just console you, comfort you, after what was obviously a long day for you too? He had promised before that he would get better at reading your body languages, keep you in mind even during his busy days... hell he even promised you that he would actually start planning dates together... and yet the last time the two of you had actually done something together was maybe 4 months ago.

Ushijima bit his inner cheek, staring at his phone again - letting you go wasn't an option. If you were going to leave, he wouldn't let you go without showing you he wanted you there. If you wanted to leave, he would make damn sure it wasn't because you thought he didn't want you anymore.

Your phone rang again, but this time, when the vibrations stopped, you received a notification that a voicemail had been left. After all this time, you had wondered why he never just said something after the call. You finally picked up your phone, listening to the voice message he left you:

"Y/N?... I'm not... not good at these things. But I know that's the problem isn't it? I've promised you so many times before that I'd get better at this stuff... and instead of hearing how hurt you were, all I could think about was how tired I was. I'm sorry, Y/N... I'm sorry for all of it. But please, please don't just get up and leave. None of this matters if you aren't around for me to share it with - volleyball, the tournaments, the sponsors, none of it would be here without you always supporting me so please, please just pick up. Or just come home. You don't have to stay if you don't want to... but please come back just to talk... I don't... I don't want what happened to my parents to happen to us. I won't let our differences separate us because everything that you are is everything I love. I fucked up - I can't promise I'll be perfect but if you're willing to just give me one more shot, and I know you've given me countless times to fix my shit, but if you give me one more chance, I promise I'll work harder. I'll do better."

You could hear the hurt in his voice and it took all your willpower not to crumble and hang up right there, call him back and cry. You hated hearing that sound in his voice - knowing he was probably tearing up, knowing he was probably sulking around the apartment. But... why should you run to him when he still hasn't solved anything? What was he saying now that was any different than what he usually said?

"I called my trainer... he agrees that I should be able to have a few rest days. So for the foreseeable future, I'll be taking Thursdays off, or at least I'll be coming home earlier every day if I need to be there for Thursdays. I know one day isn't a lot, and I know it's not much until I can actually act on it, but if you're okay with it, I'd like to spend some of those days off with you... I want to be someone you want to be with for the rest of your life, Y/N... I know I haven't been that in a long time. But if you let me, I want to make up for everything I've messed up on... There's food here waiting for you... I ordered your favourite. I don't even know if you've eaten yet or if you want to see me... but it's here for you if you want it. I'm sorry... and I love you, Y/N, I know I don't always act like it, but I do."

You didn't realize until the message ended that you were crying. Tears were streaming down your face as you tried to weigh the options laid out in front of you. Maybe it was just you being hopeful, but you could've sworn that the man you had fallen in love with, there was just a glimmer of him in that message.

You listened to it over and over again, letting yourself cry and sob into tissues you had stashed away in your car. Why couldn't he have said all of this before? Why couldn't you have just let him sleep? Why did everything have to blow up so fast?

Maybe it was time to try and fix things, you decided after you turned off your phone. You swallowed hard as you turned your car on, desperately wanting for all these awful feelings to go away. If Ushijima was genuine in person, maybe... just maybe the two of you could work things through.

Ushijima had jumped at the sound of someone opening the front door, eyes glistening with tears he had refused to let fall as you came in. The two of you shared a glance, your face showing the awkwardness you felt as you entered the once tense environment.

"Hi," was all you said, your eyes flickering over your favourite food spread out over the dining table.

"Go ahead," Ushijima nodded quickly, rushing to your side to get you a plate and put your favourites on it. He picked the biggest pieces of each dish, setting the plate down at your usual spot and gesturing to you to feel free to dig in.

But you just stared at him, the hurt in your eyes not disappearing even though Ushijima wished it would. You shifted on your feet, wishing you could pretend like nothing had happened, that there wasn't this uncomfortable feeling sitting in your stomach, that Ushijima was just doing a nice thing for you because he was a good husband and not because he was trying to apologize.

"Ushi-" you started uncomfortably, playing with your fingers in front of you.

"No, me first," he interrupted quickly, swallowing hard. Your eyes gazed over him, noting that the normally put together volleyball player suddenly seemed so small, his hair unkept like he had been running his hands through it over and over again, still wearing the shirt he had probably woken up in. "I sorely messed up, Y/N... I'm sorry for getting upset with you when you were just asking for comfort. You've told me countless times before that you appreciate talking when I come home, a hug... some time alone... and I always seem to forget that. But I promise if you come back home, I'll be better. I was thinking we could get tickets to that movie you wanted to see, or... maybe take a trip somewhere," he continued desperately. Ushijima's hand shot out and grabbed yours gently, clasping his own hands around yours. "I'm sorry, Y/N... I'm so sorry. But please... I don't want to go about my life without you around. I don't want to be one of those kids of divorce that are never happy with their own marriages so I promise... I promise I'll work on it."

You hesitated, watching the desperation in his eyes. Funny how Ushijima always seemed to talk more when you were upset, you thought to yourself, chewing on your inner cheek. "Let me eat something and then you can continue apologizing," you teased gently, attempting to lift some of the tension.

Ushijima's eyes lightened slightly as he nodded quickly and pulled out your chair for you. You smiled to yourself, wondering if maybe there was hope for you two after all.

"I'm serious about Thursdays," he told you as you started to eat. The moment the food had touched your lips, you realized just how hungry you were, stuffing your face quickly with the dishes. "We could have a standing date... watch movies or maybe go out to dinner. Try to cook something together maybe?"

You let out a choked laugh, shaking your head, "Ushi, last time we tried to cook together, we almost set the apartment on fire."

"I'll just hand you the stuff you need, I won't touch, promise," Ushijima insisted, but you could see the little smile at the corner of his lips.

You sighed after you after a few bites, looking up at him as if calculating just how ready you were to fix things, "I need to know that we're both giving and compromising equally... I feel like I'm always doing what you need me to do..."

Ushijima nodded, mulling over this for a moment, "You have done a lot for me, and I'm very grateful for it. But you're right, I need to do more."

You gave a small smile, playing with your food for a moment, "I'm sorry I didn't just tell you what was wrong... I know I blew up. In my head, I had been thinking about everything for so long, but I know that to you, it wouldn't make sense why I got angry so fast. I know a hug really isn't that big of a deal but-"

Ushijima shook his head, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingers, "If it matters to you, it's a big deal. You deserve to be comforted, to find solace in our relationship...If you'll give me a warning when you're upset, I'll do my best to hug your emotions away." You nodded and Ushijima seemed to hesitate for a moment, "Can I hug you now?" He asked quietly and you let out a little laugh because Ushijima rarely asked if he could hug you, normally you would just find yourself wrapped in a bear hug.

You nodded and Ushijima wasted no time, pulling you away from your seat and tugging you into a tight hug - it had been a long 3 days after all. He pulled away for a moment, cupping your face in his hands as he just looked at you, silently promising to himself that he would do everything in his power to never be without you again.

Maybe some couples just weren't meant to be together, maybe it had been for the best that his parents had split up. But you and him? You two were a couple destined to be together, it was fate, and there was no way he would be letting any of his dumb mistakes every mess that up again.

You silently thanked any and all of the gods that had led you to this man - arguments or not, you did love him and it was nice to be reminded that he loved you too. And Ushijima worked on it - continuing to remind you over and over again as the evening passed, even as the week ahead went by. So sure, you guys weren't a perfect couple - but sometimes, when Ushijima just held you, pressed that kiss to your lips, made your heart skip beats... sometimes it felt like you guys were as close to perfection as mere mortals could get.

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@sgue0s @aurumk @neko-chii1 @thisnoodlewritesao3 @satan-ruler-of-hells @trashy-simp @jeppiet @tobi-momo @darkvadeeer @haikyuutothetop @livy384 @babyshoyo @jesssobs @b-bakana @tsukkimoonbyeol @moonlightaangel @crystal-lilac @random-734 @sophiemess @bbyhaji @pansexualproblemchild @mystic-poteto @kaleidoscopekai @cuddlysoftbear @cheeseriz @ur-local-reality-shifter @kawaii-angelanne @ushijimacentral @elkawholeek @ur-local-anti-hero @tirzamisu

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Fic: A Woman Scorned - Part 16

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Rating: R for language and smut.

Words: ~3100 words.

Summary: You’ve been sleeping with Billy Russo for a few months now. Knowing his aversion to emotional commitments, you’re satisfied with your clandestine arrangement until you catch him having dinner with Dinah Madani one night. Then it finally dawns on you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to commit, he just doesn’t want to commit to *you*.

Billy may think he knows you, but he has no idea what he’s just lost…

Part 1   Part 2   Part 3   Part 4   Part 5   Part 6   Part 7   Part 8   Part 9   Part 10   Part 11   Part 12   Part 13   Part 14  Part 15

gif credit: @benbarnxs

Part 16

You were straddling Billy, riding him, your hips undulating atop his body. His fingers tightly gripped your waist, getting ready to take charge so you were underneath him, but you refused to submit. Instead you grabbed his hands and pinned it above his head. As you hovered above him, he arched up to kiss you but you shifted back, instead staring down at him intently. He growled at you before he rolled over unexpectedly, taking you along with him.

As he thrust into you, harder and rougher each time, you began to slide off the bed. In your new position, you caught sight of Adam on the floor. His corpse was wrapped up in a rug, only his head sticking out-

“Hey.” Billy pulled you up so you were now sitting across his lap, facing him. “Look at me. Only me.”

Only a few seconds ago he was biting you as you clawed at him, both of you desperate to possess each other. Your movements had been savage, animalistic even, but now Billy was kissing you languidly, his hand brushing the back of your hair while the other settled on the small of your back. You were directing the rhythm of the thrusts now, setting a slower pace so you could fully enjoy the feel of his cock stretching your insides oh-so-tantalizingly. Your forehead braced against his, you closed your eyes and lost yourself to the flood of emotions that overcame you.

***

It was after midnight. Billy had come home with you and both of you were in bed, you nestled against him while he spooned you from behind. Even though you were tired, you couldn’t sleep. Your brain was working overtime processing everything that happened in the last few hours. He stirred next to you, dropping a tender kiss on your bare shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he murmured. You may have been fully alert but he sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Are you sure they’ll be thorough with the cleaning?”

“Yeah.” Throwing his arm over you, he covered your hand with his. “These guys are not amateurs. They know what they’re doing. There won’t be any traces of us left in that room.”

“And Adam’s body-”

“Will be disposed of.”

“But how do you know you can trust these guys? What’s stopping them from blackmailing-”

“’cause money talks, babe. That crew is very well paid.” He squeezed your palm. “I’ve used them in the past. No trouble yet.”

With his military career you were already aware of his violent past, but you also sensed he had a long hit list aside from that. When he’d realized your plans for Adam, he hadn’t been remotely shocked at the idea of you killing another person. In fact, as you stabbed Adam repeatedly, Billy had looked at you with such pride and reverence that it had left you breathless.

“What we did tonight, you know what that means, don’t you?”

His voice brought you out of your reverie. You exhaled a deep breath, drawing circles on his palm. “That we’re bad people.”

“No, we’re survivors. We take down anyone who gets in our way.”

“He didn’t come after you,” you reminded him. “You didn’t have to get involved.”

He turned you around to face him. “Nobody threatens you and gets to live after that.”

Your heart pounded in your chest. When he looked at you with such intensity, you were almost ready to believe anything.

He cradled your face, his thumb caressing your bottom lip. “We’re connected now. Forever. Because of tonight.”

You didn’t understand how his words could evoke such conflicting emotions within you. On one hand your stomach fluttered with excitement, he was saying things you’d wanted to hear for a long time, but then there was the fear. Doubt. Uncertainty. You forced a smile, hoping some levity would lighten the situation. “You make it sound like we’re married or something.”

Disgust flooded over his face. “Fuck, no. Marriages end. One day you’re bragging about being in love, next it’s all over. It’s not based on anything real. But we are.” He reached for your hand, which was resting on the pillow between you and him, and intertwined his fingers through yours. “I saw you tonight, the real you. And you saw me. No pretenses, no boundaries. And you didn’t run. You didn’t even flinch.”

“Neither did you.” You lifted your eyebrow. “You were rock hard.”

“I always am around you.”

His words made the heat rise in your cheeks, which he noticed right away. Giving you a teasing smile, he leaned in closer to give you a peck on the cheek. “Are you blushing?”

“Shut up.”

Billy’s eyes remained locked on you, simply staring at you with sleepy eyes. “I don’t like who I was when I thought I lost you. I couldn’t eat, couldn’t work. Every time I closed my eyes I imagined you fucking this other guy, kissing him. Even the thought of you talking to him made me want to burn it all down.”

Your heart ached at how tired he looked. Scooting closer, you started massaging his forehead. When he closed his eyes, you dropped a gentle kiss on each of his eyelids, the beauty mark just below his right eye, before snuggling him tightly in your arms. “Sleep, Billy.”

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” he murmured drowsily.

You smiled. “It is my apartment.”

He didn’t respond, already fast asleep. You tried to do the same but couldn’t; there were too many thoughts running around in your brain. You had assumed you’d feel guilty about taking a life; you didn’t. You remembered the vicious, contemptuous anger in Adam’s eyes when he’d held you at gunpoint, and how he’d threatened to kill others in your team, and all you felt was relief. Relief that he was dead and no longer a danger to you.

Billy stirred next to you, drawing your attention. You reached out to hold him, your touch feather-light so as not to wake him up. He looked calm and peaceful, unlike the haunted and distraught way he appeared earlier in the hotel room. It was still hard to digest that he’d been so unhinged at the thought of losing you. But the thing that resonated with you the most was that he hadn’t been able to hurt you despite all of the anger he’d felt. Growing up the way you had, you were always on alert for things to turn violent at any moment. One wrong comment or an innocent gesture - hell even a lone pair of sock on the floor - had the potential to trigger your father’s temper and turn things violent. During those moments his rage was uncontrollable, and as a result you always worried about how people reacted when they were furious. The fact that Billy hadn’t hit you even though he’d been completely enraged made you realize you were physically safe with him.

Maybe emotionally as well. For so long you’d had difficulty believing he could reciprocate your feelings yet you couldn’t ignore how devastated he’d been. Nor could you rationalize away his emotions. It still felt surreal but he did truly care about you, and the thought filled you with warmth and made your heart soar with happiness.

You brushed your lips against his, hoping Billy’s comforting presence next to you would help you relax. However, fifteen minutes later sleep still alluded you. Eventually you decided to do something useful and work instead. Carefully sliding out of bed so you didn’t disturb him, you tip-toed out of the bedroom. Immediately you felt the soreness in your body, an after effect of the rough sex you had with Billy in the hotel room earlier. Grabbing a nearby throw, you were soon nestled in your favourite spot on the chaise lounge, working away on your laptop.

An hour later you heard footsteps behind you and you turned around to find Billy yawning, clad in boxers, his hair all ruffled.

“Why aren’t you in bed?” he grumbled.

You scooted over to give him space to sit on the chaise but he seemed to have other ideas in mind as he took a seat behind you. You found yourself settled between his legs, your back nestled against his chest, as he caressed down the length of your arms.

“I couldn’t sleep. Figured I might as well do something useful.”

“What corporate shit are you working on?” he teased, playfully grabbing your laptop to look at your screen. You smacked his arm right away, shutting the screen and pushing the laptop away.

Billy purposely rubbed his face against the base of your neck and you started giggling at the sensation of his prickly beard on your bare skin. “Stop,” you whined. “It tickles.” you squealed loudly, trying to jump out of his arms but he held you in a tight grip.

Finally he stopped, and as you struggled to catch your breath, you slapped his arm playfully. “You’re such a jerk.”

He chuckled, hugging you tightly from behind. “That’s for ignoring all my calls since Tuesday.”

“I’m still not unblocking your number,” you retorted. His beard scraped along your shoulder, making you squeal again. “Okay, fine. Sorry!”

“Swear that you’re not gonna block me again.”

You turned around in his arms, resting on your knees as your arms looped around his neck. Smiling down at him, you nuzzled your nose with his. “Swear that you won’t act like an asshole again.”

“Can’t really do that.”

“Exactly.” He tucked your hair behind your ear. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach at the tender affection on his face, the warmth of his gaze spreading slow, languid heat throughout your body. “You should go back to bed. You still look tired.”

“I’ve had a rough week.”

You pouted your lips. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“Want to make it up to me?” he asked, cocking his eyebrow at you.

”How? By sucking you off?” you teased, running your fingers through his hair.

“Move in with me.”

Your hands stilled on him, finding it hard to breathe all of a sudden. At first you thought he was joking but the solemn expression on his face made you realize otherwise. You moved away, putting much needed distance between the two of you.

“That’s not funny, Billy.”

Maintaining a rigid posture on the chaise lounge, he shrugged his shoulders. “Not meant to be. I’m dead serious.”

“You know that’s ridiculous, right?”

“Why? ‘cause I wanna keep you safe?”

“The threat is gone. I took care of it.”

“We took care of it,” he said pointedly. “A threat which you didn’t even tell me about.”

“I explained that to you already.” Feeling defensive, you started pacing the floor. “You promised you’d have your guy stop tailing me.”

“Sure. As soon as I know you’re not gonna keep things from me again. You moving in will help with that.”

“So if I don’t move in, you’ll have me followed 24/7?” Anger surged through you, you were so furious you wanted to scream. “That’s fucking blackmail.”

“Relax. No need to be so dramatic about it.”

You grabbed the closest cushion you had and flung it at him, enraged by his patronising tone. “We barely know each other-”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he interjected, finally moving to stand up. His eyes were pitch black, his jaw clenched. “You and I killed someone tonight! You took my hand, my knife, and we stabbed the bastard in the heart with it, together. We fucked while he drew his last breath and now you’re feeding me this bullshit?” He stormed towards you. “No! I’ve seen your darkness and you’ve seen mine. There’s no one else in this world that knows us better than we know each other.”

You shook your head, flabbergasted by his reaction. “This is insane. I can’t move in with you. We haven’t even gone out on a real date because you said I was boring!”

“If you believe that then you really are a fucking idiot!”

You stiffened, his words ringing in your ear. Fucking idiot. Something your father used to call you repeatedly, his tone full of hate and vitriol when he lashed out at you. It started with a fucking idiot then spiralled into bitch and whore and everything else hurtful under the sun. You swore to yourself you’d never accept being spoken to like that by another person yet here you were, being insulted again by someone who was supposed to care about you.

You retreated back from Billy, careful to keep your distance from him, and leveled him with a cold glance. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that again.” 

Your voice may have been deceptively calm but there was a storm brewing inside you. You desperately needed some space. As you moved away from Billy and headed to the kitchen, he tried to block your path but you immediately pushed him away. “Don’t touch me!”

You quickly sidestepped past him and entered the kitchen, heading for the cabinet where you kept your bottle of whiskey. Pouring yourself a glass, you slowly sipped the liquid to soothe your frayed nerves and forget the memories Billy had just unleashed in you.

***

Even as the words left his mouth, Billy knew he’d made a mistake. He regretted what he said instantly, even more so when he realized how much the words had stung you. The last thing he wanted was to cause you pain but he couldn’t seem to help himself. The more he tried to hold on to you the more you slipped through his fingers.

After giving you a few minutes to calm down, he entered the kitchen behind you. You were standing in the opposite corner, drinking the hard stuff, which further signalled how shaken you were. Billy knew Scotch wasn’t something you enjoyed, you only drank it when you were messed up.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I shouldn’t have said that. It won’t happen again. I swear.”

You didn’t acknowledge him, and it hurt like hell.

“When I think about you pulling away from me, it makes me lose my mind.” He swallowed audibly, desperately trying to get through to you. “I’m all in when it comes to us but it feels like you always have one foot out the door.” He took hesitant steps towards you while your eyes still remained on the countertop, refusing to meet his gaze. “I keep fucking up but I’ve never felt this way before. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just can’t lose you, Y/N.”

“I’m not built like you, Billy,” you finally spoke, turning to look at him. “I have doubts. I’m constantly dealing with insecurities. It takes me time to trust people, and I just can’t rush into things head-on.”

“And I’m someone who hustles. I go after everything I want with guns blazing. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have Anvil.”

“But I’m not a thing, Billy. I’m a person, and you can’t push me into doing stuff I’m not ready for.”

He exhaled a resigned sigh. “I know. It’s ‘cause I get paranoid when it comes to you. You’re a closed book and you never tell me anything.” His eyes scanned yours, his stomach clenched with anxiety. “I don’t even know how you feel about me.” It was the first time he’d voiced that thought, something he didn’t even realize he felt until this very moment. You wanted him, that he knew, and you’d even confessed you loved him once but he didn’t really believe in that bullshit. What mattered to him was if you needed him as much as he did you. The idea of not having you in his life drove him insane, but did you feel the same way? He didn’t think so and it bothered the fuck out of him.

You set your glass down on the counter before reaching out to cradle his face, your soulful eyes meeting his emotional gaze. “I want to be with you, Billy. I like you so much that it scares me.”

Your words brought with them a tidal wave of relief that swept over him like a calm breeze. It was like he could breathe again. He pulled you close, his forehead against yours as he simply held you. “Don’t be scared, babe. I don’t bite.”

“That is a complete fucking lie,” you retorted. “I still have the marks from earlier to prove it.” Your smile faded again as you held his stare. “But I need you to be patient with me. You can’t bully me or get mad if I don’t want to rush into things.”

He nodded his head. “I won’t.”

“I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. And the thought of trusting you? Relying on you? It scares the hell out of me. Because there’s always a voice in my head that’s reminding me I need to go back to being alone when we end things.”

“I need to kill that voice.”

You chuckled, reaching out to loop your arms behind his back. “It shuts up eventually. It did in the hotel room when I saw how fucked up you were without me. That’s when it sunk in you actually do like me.”

“It took you that long to believe it?”

You gave him a sad smile. “Yeah. You did tell me I was boring.”

He groaned right away, regret washing over him. He should never have said those fucking words to you. “You’re not boring. You’re smart. And hot.” He kissed your left cheek. “And sweet. And funny. And mine.” Then the right cheek. “And when you lecture me about cybersecurity, I get so hard.”

“Whatever. You’re the one who wanted to know more about the topic,” you grumbled.

He grinned, giving you a tender peck on the lips. “I can listen to you talk for hours and hours-“

“Shut up.” You pressed your palm over his mouth.

Wrapping his arms around you, he lifted you off the ground and started carrying you back to the bedroom. “Forever actually, if you’re naked.”

“Not once have I lectured you naked.”

He dropped you on the bed. “Yeah, exactly. Time you start.” He jumped into bed, rubbing his beard on your face again as you started squealing.

A few minutes later you were both panting for air, staring up at the ceiling. “Just to make it clear, I’m not moving in,” you huffed through laboured breaths.

He turned to look at you, smirking. “Fine, but I’m taking you out tonight. Proper date and all.”

The most beautiful smile graced your face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You were a ray of sunshine beaming up at him and Billy’s heart felt so full he worried it would explode. If he could, he’d freeze this moment forever.

Part 17

A/N - As always, your wonderful feedback is what keeps me inspired to write and post consistently. I was initially nervous about this chapter because the characters experience a gamut of emotions but it was necessary. I hope you like and enjoy this chapter. Feedback, as always, is very much appreciated and feeds my soul :)

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[hoodiewithhorns]

━  using your safeword scenarios p.2 ★

characters :  koshi sugawara, atsumu miya, kotaro bokuto 

i decided to make this the p.2 and include suga since like 3 ppl asked for him so yeah !!

p.1   + m.sterlist + requests  

(please read the rules before requesting ty.)

▼ cw :  not proof read, f! reader , size kink + not enough prep , spanking, dumbification, degradation, daddy/master kink, dacryphilia,  hurt + comfort, red! used as safeword, authority kink, angst, established relationship, all characters are 18+, MDNI ▲

Sugawara 

- he was always a softie to you

- praising you at everything you did and calling you a goodgirl too <3

- but when you reunited with your friends from highschool they all talked about how their partners would go rough on them bringing you curiosity on the thought of suga being rough with you

- they teased you for having such a soft boyfriend while they went on and on about how you should try it out too.

〜 ☆

- you wondered what would make him tick so you tried being a bit bratty when you got home

- you’d reply with “make me” and he was clueless he’d just go “uhh..okay? can you please sit down?”

- having enough of it he confronted you about it 

he hovered over you on top of the couch, staring into your eyes with worry. “y/n what’s gotten into you today? are you okay honey?” his voice was soft, full of  concern. you sighed avoiding his worrisome gaze at you. you felt bad for making your boyfriend become worry about you. he at first assume you had a bad day with your friends since you never acted so bratty towards him.

you took a deep breath now turning to face him completely, with your face slowly heating up. “its nothing koshi..i just wanted to try something” he titled his head in confusion at your words. “you wanted to try to be a brat to me? why would you wanna do that?” your cheeks now fully red in embarrassment. “n-no i thought maybe you could be a bit more um..rough with me..” he blinked a few times to analyze what you just told him.

i-its fine if you don’t want t-to!” you covered your face with your hands while he sighs in relief glad you weren’t having a bad day. he chuckled, pulling you into his arms to have you seated on his lap. “now what brought this up my love?” he asks kissing your forehead while he roams his hand through your hair. “well.. my friends said they really enjoyed it when their partners were rough with them and i just wanted to try it out so i thought being bratty might you know...make you wanna put me in my place and stuff..” you shyly spoke as you fiddle with your hands, a sign of nervousness he’s picked up from having dating you so long. 

“you sure baby?” his voice now sounding serious. the sad part was you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted this. feeling pressured to do it if you were being honest. you were fine with the way sex with suga was soft, nice and sweet. you did enjoy when he would speed up his thrusts when his high was approaching, but even at that you’d let tears fall at the stretch of him going fast. 

ignoring your uncertainty, you nodded looking him in the eyes. he could tell you were still nervous, but if you were okay about it he couldn’t say no to his princess. he kissed your cheek while getting close to your ear, whispering seductively “well since you were all bratty don’t you think you deserve a bit of punishment?” you looked up at him with clueless eyes, clenching your thighs together at his new tone. 

“um o-okay..koshi-”

“master, let’s go with that alright princess?”

you nodded letting him position you down on his lap, your stomach on his knees and head resting on the couch cushion. “ you know the safeword right darling?” you tried to look up at him, but your movements being limited. 

“yes koshi..”

“koshi?” he questions.

“ah i-i mean master!” you quickly corrected yourself. 

he patted your head smiling at your obedience. “goodgirl..now then” he tugged the waistband of your skirt smirking at your eager wiggle for him to remove them faster still felling uneasy, but full of anticipation  at what suga had in store for you. “now now, be patient you’re not supposed to enjoy your punishment you know?” 

“m’ sorry master..” he slid your skirt down, removing it finally, tossing it to the side of the living room, leaving you with nothing but underwear that was soaked with your juices. he rubbed soothing circles on your asscheek before he placed a mean slap on it. you jumped at the unexpected sting, your eyes starting to water with no tears falling just yet. “such a naughty thing huh?” landing another slap on your ass rubbing it to sooth the pain. the sting feeling good but the words he spoke starting to get you, breaking you down one by one. 

“what happened to my goodgirl huh? she came home so bratty..such a badgirl.” your pupils shrunk at the fact he called you bad. goodgirl was something he’d always call you making you blush and smile but the fact now you were his badgirl set something off in you. 

you wanted to push the feeling off you really did, but the slaps on your ass made you feel hazy and your tears started to fall on the couch. “why so quiet?you sure had a lot to say when you came home. is my badgirl finally gonna take her punishment like she’s supposed too?” slapping your ass once more leaving hand prints on it now that were bound to stay for awhile. 

you didn’t respond, instead you just sobbed in on yourself feeling small and pathetic that the fact he called you a badgirl was enough to make tears stain your cheeks. he froze turning you to face him on his lap. “hey baby you okay?was it too much??” 

“r-red..” finally speaking, he quickly pulled you in his embrace peppering your faces with kisses letting out soft apologies. “why’d you force yourself baby?” he whispers kissing you softly yet full of love.

“i-i’m still your goodgirl... right? i didn’t mean to be bad i promise..i thought i could take it but..” the feeling of guilt starting to take over you.

“but what baby you can say it i won’t get mad, i could never” you rested your head on his shoulder wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“i couldn’t..i like it when you’re soft with me..c-can we do that instead?? please master!”

he smirked at the fact you called him master, it made his cock twitch in his jeans. relief he didn't hurt you, he started kissing down your neck, letting one hand wander up your shirt to play with your hardening nipple. 

“of course. whatever my goodgirl wants. just please never force yourself to do anything ever again till you’re 100% okay with. got it?”

“yes master.”

Atsumu

- this man is kinda like kuroo 

- heavy with his degradation. 

- you didn’t mind ofc!! he’d reassure you he didn't mean what he said with his aftercare

- but tonight, he told you to ride him since you were being extra needy for him.

- he wanted to tease you and not fully give in and help you cum just to mess with you and have you beg.

-and well...he may have mixed in some dumbification.

- lets just say you might have taken some things to heart.

he clicked his tongue disappointed at your attempts to bounce on his cock. it hurt just dropping onto his dick but each time you bounced on it, you could feel the painful drag stretching your walls open making you sob. “come on..that all you got? it’s no fun having a dumb crybaby on my cock.” him calling you dumb catches you off guard, but choosing to ignore it you tried again this time quickening your pace.

he didn’t even let a grunt at the feeling just staring at you with a look of disapproval, already panting in exhaustion. he sighed getting tired of seeing you’re pathetic movements, he pushed you back down to take initiative having his cock still stuffed inside you. you let out a yelp at the unexpected change as he started rutting his hips into you, using your hips as support to hold himself, you moaned gripping his shoulders for support as your eyes rolled back to your head.

“was that so hard? i thought dumb needy sluts would try harder to try and get what they want.” he tutted, ramming into you meaner and harder, his cock grazing the tip of your cervix. you choked out a sob trying to look back at him, starting to not like were this was going.“m’..i was  trying my best daddy..”

“were you though? as always my dumb slut needs her daddy to step in and help her since she can’t do anything right.” the last sentence making your heart stop and everything around you freeze. did he really see you this way? as a dumb needy slut who can’t do anything right? you thought back to all the times you needed his help even beyond sex like when you’d ask him to help you get something that was too high up for you at a store, needed him to walk you home cause you weren’t strong enough to defend yourself. 

all these memories making your head feel dizzy. did he mean it??he never complained he was always happy to help his girlfriend. you started to continuously sob out apologies. your tears being easily mistaken for tears of pleasure, which only turned him on even more. 

“aw.” he faked sympathy for you with a frown, grabbing your chin to look at him. “its okay, daddy will find a use for you. after all the only thing you’re good at is being a dumb cocksleeve for me to pump full.” his eyes were dark when he spoke almost sadistically. the pleasure you were once receiving from him started turning to pain making you scream. 

“no more!! red! red! please atsumu stop!” he pulled out the second you tried pushing him off. 

he took a step-back watching as you slowly breakdown in front of him. he was scared, terrified even at seeing you so hurt you went as far as to use the little strength in you to push him off. 

he got off the bed running to the bathroom to grab a towel to wipe you. he returned sitting at the foot of the bed slowly approaching you with shaky hands. proceeding to wipe your tears away with it, glad you didn’t flinch at him. 

“hey..no more tears it’s okay its okay─i didn’t mean it i swear!” his voice cracked, with his eyes starting to water as well. you flipped yourself over to rest your head on his thigh. “thank god.” he mumbled looking up in relief. he was scared you were mad at him or was mad at him forever. 

the room was silent for a few minutes with only the movements of atsumu playing with your hair telling you over and over again how sorry he was.

“am i really that useless atsu..?” you mumbled, the thought of you calling yourself useless, being drilled into your head by atsumu made his heart sink. he quickly corrects you, pulling you up off his thigh into a tight hug, swinging you back and forth like a toddler. 

“NO! NO! thats untrue! i-i’m so sorry you’re not useless! you a very useful pretty baby that i love more than a-anything so don’t ever say that!” his tears falling down his cheeks hitting your skin. you started to feel your tears come up again too. you didn’t precisely see him cry, but you could tell by his broken tone he was almost as hurt as you. 

you wrapped your arms around him, as he gripped onto you tighter, scared you’d runaway or leave. 

“i’m sorry baby....i promise to never call you those things ever again.” he promised pulling away to look you in the eyes. you smiled making his heart skip a beat. 

“let’s go to sleep okay prettygirl?”

Bokuto

- he can get out of hand

- i wouldn’t say bokuto would be as rough vocally as the previous ones.

- HOWEVER, his cock is something you’ll never get used to

- each time you two did he had to prep you and even then it still hurt.

- you never complained though it was always temporary.

- he came home after a stressful game and only won because of pure luck.

- he was tired and needed to blow off steam immediately

- you being his cute wife was happy to help <3

he sloppily kissed down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt to have a turn at your breasts. you bit your lip to suppress your moans. “come on baby make some noise will ya?” he said removing your shorts completely before sucking at your clit making you wince, your eyes screwed shut at the pleasure. he began to stuff a finger in you feeling you clench around his finger.

“yeah just like that─fuck you’re really wet baby.” he licked his lips at the sight of your wet cunt. removing his finger completely, while running his thumb up and down your folds. he was getting impatient wanting to just ruin you already. he unbuckled his pants removing it quickly not remembering how big he was compared to you. removing his boxers just to let his cock spring free. you opened your eyes to see his tip slowly enter you. 

“w-wait bo! need more p-prep!”

“come on baby your a big girl right? you can take it.” your head fell back into the pillow as tears streamed down your cheeks at the stretch. no matter no many times bokuto fucked you it still hurt. you gripped a chunk of the bed sheets in your fists tightly, holding onto it for your dear life. 

he slowly went in you fully throwing his head back at how your gummy walls clenched around him so tightly. he knew it hurt you but it brought him a lot of pleasure that it did. the fact your tiny little hole would stretch pass its limit just to accumulate his fat cock was almost enough to make him cum right there.

he stilled for a few seconds, only to thrust roughly into you like a man starved of lust. you screamed as his fat cock dragged along your walls at the abnormal pace.  you didn’t know if you could last if you were being honest, it hurt it really did. normally, it would last a few thrusts but this time it lasted way too long for your liking. 

“bo! please s-slow down─ah!” he sped up his paces being too lost in his own pleasure to hear you. “bo!” you screamed still not getting his attention. 

feeling uneasy you let out a yell of the safeword “RED!” he halted his thrusts looking down at your face that was streaming with tears. 

‘oh no oh no i─ baby i’m sorryyyy!” his hair flopping down going into his emo mode. he collapsed on top of you falling on your breasts looking up at you like a wounded puppy. you chuckled and played with his hair while he hugged you tightly. still in you.

“ its okay bo..” you smiled while he got off your breast to cup your face kissing it softly. 

“i’m sorry i didnt realize i was hurting you baby─ do you want me to stop we can stop!-”

“no bo its okay!its okay!” you quickly reassured kissing his cheek falling back on the bed rubbing your remaining tears away.

“just go slow okay? then when i’m fully ‘adjusted’ you can go fast and as rough as you want.”

you whispered making his emo mode fade away and his face light up with glee like he just won a prize.

“r-really? as rough as i want?” he asked making sure, you smiled in response. “yes bo. just start slow okay? i promise.” he nodded placing his hands at your sides to thrust slowly into you. he lowered himself to you and you wrapped your arms and legs around him while he began to kiss you passionately. 

☆〜 

 bokuto’s is really soft he’s a goofball and i love em sm. also never wrote for suga before?? i hope you suga stans liked it tho it was kinda hard to write him since i don’t seem him as the type to degrade his partner he’s just here to please his baby.

i still am taking requests all links are above and down here. remember to drink water. oh and heres the m.sterlist in case you missed it <3♡

[dreamescapeswriting]

Stray Kids Reaction | Crying During An Argument [Request]

Stray Kids x GN!Reader 

CHAN:

Chan walked through the door of his bedroom to find you fast asleep in his bed, while usually he would be pleased to see you laying there waiting for him tonight it only seemed to piss him off. He slammed the door behind him and walked into the living room, throwing himself onto the sofa to sleep instead. 

"Channie?" You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes, coming out to see who was banging about, it was 3 am and he'd been home to the dorms late every night this week. Not that you had been there but the boys had been keeping you up to date on what your boyfriend got up to when you weren't around. 

"What are you doing here? I told you I was busy this week," He grumbled as he laid flat on his chest, face squished between the pillows, you let out a yawn as you tried to speak. 

"I told you I was coming, I text you. If you took the time to read your phone you would know," You joked playfully but it didn't land, Chan sat up and grumbled at you that he'd been too busy working to even think about his phone. 

"I was joking Channie...Come to bed, I can help you relax...Give you a massage?" He continued to sit there staring at the floor as if he hadn't heard a word you said,

"Chan?"

"For fuck sake! Why are you always going on! I've just walked through the door! Give me a chance!" You cringed at his yelling, the boys were all asleep and if he continued he would wake them all up. 

"Chan the boys are sleeping," You hissed at him not fancying the boys coming out to find the two of you fighting with one another over seemingly nothing since you had no idea what was bothering Chan so much lately. It just seemed as though he never wanted to be around you and when he did it was as if you weren't there, he would spend the whole time ignoring you. 

"I don't care! I'm sick of you always being around to check on me, you're always here, always breathing down the back of my neck. It's exhausting Y/n!" The boys had to have been awake by now but they weren't coming out of their rooms, you just stared at Chan waiting for him to finish his rant. You knew how stressful his life was and you always gave him space when he needed it, always forgiving him for yelling at you when things got bad but this was enough. 

"I'm here to make sure my boyfriend doesn't overwork himself, to make sure he actually gets some sleep since he doesn't listen to his band members." You finally snapped, tears starting to gush out of your eyes as you told him how you were really feeling. You were angry at him for not taking care of himself and angry that he was taking his anger out on you and the boys who had told you about his outbursts with them all week. 

"I gave you space when the boys said you were snapping at them, I figured tonight you would want some company." Chan looked at you as you spoke, his heart breaking into two pieces as he saw the tears rolling down your face. It was then that everything fell into place and he was the Chan you knew and loved. His arms wrapped around you without another word as he kissed the top of your head. Telling you how sorry he was over and over again until you accepted it and told him to go back to bed with you.

MINHO:

This fight had been going on far longer than you wanted it to, you didn't even want to be fighting with Minho because you knew he could stand his ground. Neither of you could remember what was going on in the fight, it had stared over something so small and petty that it no longer seemed important. 

"Can't you see that I have a point?!" Minho yelled out as he turned around to look at you, your head was in your hands as you sat at the kitchen table. Shaking your head in answer to him, 

"No, because I can't even remember what we're supposed to be fighting about." You mumbled, laying your head down against the wooden table wanting nothing more than for the fight to be over already. 

"That's your problem! You always forget everything, every little thing! Because you just don't care." Your heart panged as you lifted up to stare back at your boyfriend with a blank stare wondering if he truly meant what he had just said to you, 

"I don't care?" You couldn't believe what he was saying to you, your chest was starting to hurt as he said nothing to you until you shook your head, trying to urge him into saying something else.

"You don't, you don't care about anyone else but yourself." This only made your chest ache more as you stared at him, waiting for him to tell you that he was joking or that he wasn't being serious but it never came. He continued to stare back at you with a serious look on his face as if he believed it, 

"That's it. Walk away like you do every time!" He yelled out as you began walking out of the kitchen but you scoffed at him, going into the living room and pulling out a box from your storage closet. 

"If I don't care, what's all of this?" You dropped the box down onto the table and began pulling out all of the small items you'd kept over the years of being together with him. The ticket stub from your first date together, a photo of you both on your third date, and even a ramen packet from when you first cooked for him and the rest of the boys when you were first introduced to them. 

"Don't you dare tell me I don't care about us!" You yelled out at him as you cried, you hadn't even noticed you'd been crying until you felt the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

"Babe-"

"No. You look at me, and you tell me I don't care about our relationship when every day I'm doing everything I can to keep us going." Minho sighed as he pulled you into his chest, rubbing your lower back as you cried into his arms, 

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said it, I was just angry at both of us...Fighting over something we can't remember." He whined as he brought you closer to him, sinking down onto the floor so that he could continue to hold you close to him as he apologised for what he had said. 

CHANGBIN:

Changbin had been giving you the silent treatment all day and it was starting to bug you, you had done nothing wrong to warrant him not speaking to you. 

"I thought you wanted to watch a movie tonight," You pouted at him as he walked into the shared apartment you had together and headed straight towards the bedroom instead of staying with you. 

"Changbin!" You called out but he ignored you again and again, not even glancing over at you as he shut the bedroom door. You weren't going to stand for it, all day he'd been like this. Ever since you'd gotten to the dorms and the boys began talking with you, he'd began ignoring you.

"What's going on? I thought we were going to cuddle and watch a movie," You whined at him playfully,

"Why don't you ask Jisung to cuddle you!" He snapped out as he stared at you, his chest rising and falling quickly and you realised what his problem had been all day. Jisung had been a little clingy with you today but you put that down to him not seeing you for almost a month when you went home for a while. 

"We're just friends," You sighed to Changbin, sitting down on the bed as you stared at him. This was the way it always was when it came to you hanging around with people, whenever Changbin saw them getting a little too friendly with you in a way he didn't like he would become this overly jealous boyfriend who had no need to be jealous. 

"Tell him that, he didn't seem to think that when he had his arms draped around you the way he did...and you didn't exactly stop him Y/n," You rolled your eyes as you laid down on the bed not wanting to get into this fight with him, it was something that was overdone all of the time and something that didn't need to be spoken about. He knew that he was the only one you loved and it would always be that way, 

"He's a friend,"

"He doesn't act like a friend! He acts like a lover." He continued to rant on about how Jisung shouldn't be able to wrap his arms around you like that, how it was Changbin's job and not Jisung's.

"Do you not trust me?" You finally questioned as you sat up, coming face to face with Changbin who was at the end of the bed staring back at you. 

"Maybe I don't," You scoffed at the comment, saying nothing more as you got up from the bed and began to pack some of your clothes into a bag, not wanting to have the whole trust fight with him. 

"Where are you going to go?" His voice was calmer now as he realised he'd upset you but you weren't going to speak to him, you were going to give him a taste of his own medicine by ignoring him the way he had ignored you all day. 

"Y/n! You know I didn't mean it," He yelled out as he followed you down the stairs of your apartment and towards the front door, begging for you not to go but you were still walking out as he spoke to you. 

"But you did, didn't you? You don't think you can trust me despite us being together for almost five years?" Tears were running down your face as you turned around to look at him, your eyes were bloodshot as you let the tears flow through your anger. 

"I've been with you through everything, I've been there even when I was scared you would cheat on me but I stayed. I trusted you throughout every part of our relationship, all I'm asking for is the same trust!" You pleaded with him and he sighed, finally realising how much of an idiot he had been acting around you. He trusted you, of course, he did. He knew that he could trust you with his life if he needed to but he couldn't help but feel jealous when he saw someone else all over you. 

"I do trust you...I just find it hard when he has his hands over you," You sighed at him and kissed his cheek, promising him that there was nothing that could come between you. 

HYUNJIN:

It happened for the sixth time this week, Hyunjin ignored your texts and calls and you were starting to worry that something was wrong. You text Chan asked if Hyunjin was at the studios and if you could head over, Chan seemed relieved to hear from you and you headed over right away. Taking everybody some lunch since it was almost time for them to eat and you didn't know if they had something, 

"I bought the food!" You called out as you walked into the dance studio to see Hyunjin, Jisung and Minho standing together all of them covered in sweat from the work out they had been doing. Hyunjin rolled his eyes as he saw you standing there but you thought you were seeing things and chose to ignore it, 

"I left it with Chan and Changbin so you better run before they eat it all," You told the boys as Minho and Jisung scrambled towards the door, wanting to get something before the boys grabbed it all. 

"You're not hungry?" You asked as you saw Hyunjin getting ready to dance again but he just nodded, ignoring you as he waited for you to leave the room but you weren't going to. You were going to get to the bottom of this silent treatment one way or another. 

"What's going on? Are we okay?" You asked insecurely as you stared at him, waiting for some kind of explanation as to what his problem was lately. 

"We're fine. I just need to practice. Can you leave?" He snapped angrily as he stared at the mirror, taking in a deep breath as he got ready but you just shook your head. Turning to leave when you stood your ground instead of walking away, 

"No. Something is clearly going on. You're ignoring me, ignoring my texts and calls. All I want to do is spend some time with you." You whined but it wasn't met with an understanding Hyunjin as it normally was, he just started yelling at you. 

"I don't have time to act like I'm happy to be around you! I don't have the energy to be around you right now!" You froze in place as you heard the words he was saying to you, 

"You don't have to act to be around me! I thought you loved me, I thought you would be happy around me no matter what. I'm sorry I seem to bother you so much Hyunjin," You scoffed slamming the door as you stood your ground, wanting to know what else he thought of you now that he was spilling his guts. 

"You know that's not what I meant. Fuck, you always take everything so literal." He groaned at you, running his hands through his hair as he stressed out, 

"You just said you don't want to act happy around me, that you don't have the energy to be around me so how about I make things easier for you? I never come back? You'll never have to deal with me again." It wasn't until Hyunjin heard your voice crack that he knew you were crying, there were tears rolling down your face from how angry you felt about everything and he grabbed your hands. 

"Y/n-"

"No, you clearly don't want to be in this relationship anymore. I'll do you the favour of ending things," You mumbled, snatching your hand away from him but he pulled you back into his chest. Staring down into your eyes as he nervously shook his head, 

"I didn't mean it. I've been busy with dancing, writing and then we're getting told off by our manager for not being on time...I was just projecting my anger," He explained as he rubbed your lower back, kissing your forehead as he apologised over and over again for making you cry.

JISUNG:

Another date another night of Jisung sneaking out of the dorms to come and see you. He was panting heavily and sweating as he walked into your apartment staring at you with a giant smile on his face which faded quickly when he realised you weren't happy to see him standing there. 

"You wouldn't have to sneak around like this if you just told the boys we were dating," You mumbled as you placed some popcorn into your mouth, staring at the TV screen as you watched the movie you'd put on. 

"I can't tell the guys about us yet," Yet. That was what he always said whenever you brought up the topic of telling his friends about your relationship. He wasn't ready yet, it wasn't the right time yet, the boys didn't need to know yet. Every excuse he could give to you he would if it meant getting out of sharing you with the boys but it only made you grow anxious over time. 

"Why? If you're that ashamed of us being together, why don't you just end things?" You snapped at him as he sat down next to you, you had enough of sneaking around. The point of your relationship was to be happy together and spending time together easily but his sneaking around and always being overly secretive with the boys lead to too much hassle. 

"Ashamed? I'm not ashamed of you." He said calmly as he clearly didn't see that you were as angry about this as you were but you'd reached the breaking point. I t was getting exhausting having to pretend that you didn't know him whenever you would bump into one another in the JYP building. 

"You act like it," You snapped harshly as you turned around to look at him, his eyes were wide and he put down the bowl of popcorn as he got up from the sofa. 

"Is there something bothering you?" He questioned as he stared at you, 

"Yes! I want you to tell the boys we're together. I'm sick of sneaking around and pretending I'm not in love with you whenever I see you at work," You thought it would be simple. The other boys were in relationships and they were happy for one another. What could possibly be the problem with Jisung telling them about you and him?

"But I'm not ready to tell them," He sighed as he felt as though he was going around in circles with you on the subject, he didn't see why you wanted to make it into a huge deal that the two of you were dating.

"You're not ready to tell them or you're not ready for people to know you're not on the market anymore," Your hand slapped over your mouth as you realised what you had said but it was no secret that Jisung flirted with everybody. You'd been working in the studios with Chan when you overheard Felix and Changbin talking about Jisung flirting with one of the stylists. 

"What are you talking about?-"

"I hear about your stories, how you flirt with everyone at the studio, everyone tells me about it." You mumbled as you realised how crazy you sounded right now but you didn't care. 

"Flirt with who? Why would I flirt with anybody?" You shook your head at him as you stared at him, 

"It's the only thing that makes sense about not telling the guys or anybody else about us. You just do that so you have the freedom to flirt and be with whoever you want!" The way you suddenly raised your voice shocked Jisung, he'd never heard you yell at anybody before much less him.

"Babe-" He reached his hand out to you but you stepped away from him, begging him not to call you that right now. 

"Please just go I've had enough of this, I've had enough of being your secret." You mumbled tiredly as you felt the tears begin to gush down your cheeks, getting so angry at the thought of him flirting or being with somebody else that you began crying but Jisung didn't move an inch until he took your hand in his. Walking towards the door of your apartment as he began dialling Chan's number into his phone, bringing it up to his ear as he shut and locked your apartment door. 

"What's going on?" You questioned confused but he just told Chan he would be back soon and to have some food. 

"I'm introducing you to the boys, I had no idea you felt this way." He looked at you nervously, reaching up to rub his thumb under your eyes to remove the tears.

"I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of you, or flirting with somebody else...I didn't tell the boys because I figured I could keep you to myself for a little while longer," He confessed as he leant forward to give you a small kiss on the lips. Smiling as you kissed him back, 

"I'm sorry for-"

"Don't, I should be sorry for acting the way I did." He said as he cut you off, beginning to walk down the stairs of your apartment building.

FELIX:

As soon as you watched Felix hit the ground your whole body seemed to launch yourself at him, rushing to his side as you went to check that he was okay. 

"Babe, you okay?" Your voice was strained as it came out panicked, checking over him as you run your hands over his elbow which he'd smashed onto the dance practice floor. 

"I'm fine," He grumbled at you, snapping his arm away as he got up from the floor, moving away from you as he mumbled something about you being overprotective. You knew that you were protective of him but that was only because you didn't want anything dangerous to happen to him, Felix was the love of your life and seeing him hurt, hurt you. 

"I was just watching out for you," You whispered, hurt that he seemed to be upset over something so seemingly insignificant. 

"Well don't! You're constantly breathing down my neck and it's fucking annoying," You and Felix rarely fought and if you did it normally ended in you walking out, you hated confrontation and yelling but this time you weren't going to back down from it. You'd done nothing wrong to warrant being called annoying by Felix, all you did was try to make sure he was okay. 

"You're overreacting, I just wanted to make sure you hadn't hurt yourself," You were calm with him, trying to make him see your reasoning but it only seemed to make him angrier, he grew red in the face as he turned to look at you. 

"What are you? My parent?!" He cried out as he stared at you, clearly, it was something else that was bothering him and he was passing the blame onto you. 

"I was making sure you didn't break a bone! The next time I'll just leave you to cry on the floor!" Felix was shocked at the sudden yelling coming from you, in all the years that you had been together he'd never once heard you yell at him or anybody else.

"You're constantly all over me! It's overbearing to have my partner constantly watching my every move!" He yelled out before he even processed what he was trying to say, he knew how sensitive you were to be called overbearing. Your ex had finished things between you because you were always checking in on them to make sure they were okay. Felix said nothing as he waited for you to say something but all you did was shake your head at him, tears rolling down your cheeks from the anger you were feeling. You had no idea how to process the feelings and they were coming out in form of tears instead. 

"Babe-"

"No! You know what, if I'm that overbearing as a partner why don't you just leave me? Huh?" You snapped at him as you raised your eyebrows, having enough of this already, 

"If I'm that bad to be with just end things! All I wanted to do was make sure you hadn't seriously injured yourself! I was trying to be a good partner but whatever, if you don't care and you want to get hurt-" You grabbed your bag from the floor and began storming out of the room, 

"Then be my guest, but don't come crying to me when you hurt yourself and no one is around to help you." You tried to slam the door to make a dramatic exit but Felix grabbed the handle to stop you, bringing you into his arms as he pressed you against his chest. It was now that you realised he was also crying but not because he was angry but because he realised how much he'd upset you, 

"I shouldn't have said what I said. I'm sorry," He whispered as he kissed the top of your head, kissing down to your lips. 

"Let's go home. Have a shower and watch a movie." He whispered to you, holding onto you tightly so that you couldn't leave him, 

"I'm just stressed with comebacks coming and the shows-" He was cut off when you leant up to kiss his lips softly, 

"I'll stop being so over protective...I promise," You whispered to him as you kissed his cheek once again, tugging at his grasp so you could head home for the evening.

SEUNGMIN:

You and Seungmin had been living together for about six months and it had become an unspoken rule that you cleaned the home while he worked at the studios. It was just the way things worked since you were out of a job thanks to lockdown happening too suddenly, you enjoyed the cleaning and Seungmin enjoyed coming back to a clean home but this week was different. You'd been too sick with migraine to even think about moving out of bed and Seungmin had been so busy at the studios he'd barely noticed you not leaving your room. YOu were asleep when he got up for work and asleep when he came in late so he figured you were fine. 

"Ugh! Fuck sake! Y/n!" You heard Suengmin scream as he entered the house, you groaned wrapping yourself in a blanket as you stood at the top of the stairs to see him. He'd walked through the door, tripping over the shoes that had been left on the floor instead of on the shoe rack,

"The house is a fucking pigsty!" He yelled out as he walked into the living room to see nothing had been done all week, the washing from Monday morning was still sitting on the floor in front of the machine and the dishes were beginning to take over the kitchen sides and table. 

"I've been a little-"

"I'm so sick of coming home to a messy house!" You flinched at the way he yelled his voice but not because you were scared but because yelling only made your head feel worse.

"I've not been well, I was going to do it when I felt better," You mumbled, leaning your body against the wall to try and relax but it only seemed to make Seungmin angrier. 

"You do nothing all week long! All I ask is that you make sure the house is tidy and I'm constantly coming home to a mess!" Seungmin continued to rant about how you didn't have a job and had nothing to do all day until you finally lost it. Snapping at him as you cried, tears rolling down your cheeks from the anger you were feeling towards him, 

"I haven't been cleaning because I'm sick! If you were any kind of boyfriend you would have taken the chance to notice I've barely gotten out of bed in over a week because my head feels like it's being kicked in!" The sudden yell from you made Seungmin stumble back and take a real look at you for the first time that night, your hair was a mess, you looked like you hadn't slept right for days and you looked genuinely unwell and he filled with dread as he realised he hadn't even noticed until you said something.

"I've been so stressed about not having the house clean but I could barely get out of bed, Sungie." You whined as you collapsed onto the sofa in front of him not knowing what to say or do anymore, all you wanted to do was crawl into bed. 

"Go, I'll clean up and I'll bring you something to eat. I'm not taking no for an answer," You didn't fight him back on it, you just lifted yourself up from the sofa and headed up to the bedroom.

An hour or two later the door to the bedroom opened and Seungmin appeared, carrying a tray with food and painkillers on. 

"Lay back," He told you as he placed a damp-cold cloth on your head, making sure you were comfortable before he began getting the soup ready for you to eat, 

"I'm sorry. I should have checked on you before now. I promise I'll start helping around the house too,"

JEONGIN:

The front door slammed against the wall as you walked into the apartment, laughter filled the air which only seemed to fuel your growing anger even more. Water was dripping onto the floor from your body as you kicked the door shut behind you, staring into the living room to see your boyfriend sitting there with all of his friends who had yet to notice you. Once Jeongin heard the door slam shut he turned around to see you standing there, you were drenched and kicking off your shoes as you held eye contact with him.

"Babe? You're all wet, and you're late home." He chuckled at something that Felix had said to him and you could feel yourself starting to lose your patience with him. Normally you were the kind and relaxed partner but tonight was too much even for you, you'd been stood up by your own boyfriend and now he was choosing to spend his evening gaming instead of with you. 

"Do you have any idea what day it is?" The tone in our voice changed the read of the room as the game was shut off and the boys began to leave without a word to you or Jeongin who looked lost and confused. They could sense that there was a fight coming and none of them wanted to be in the way of the warpath when everything finally came out.

"Guys?!" They didn't answer Jeongin as the door shut and he was left staring at you, he was blushing a little as he tried to remember what day it was and what he could possibly be missing that would make you this angry at him.

"I was sitting inside for an hour and then I thought, maybe you just forgot and went to bed because you've had such a hard day," As you spoke to him you peeled off the wet jacket you were wearing and dropping it on the floor, ignoring the squelching sound it made as it hit the hardwood flooring. 

"I figured you'd be in bed and I wouldn't be as mad at you for forgetting but what do I find when I walk into our house? My boyfriend, gaming instead of out with me on our two-year anniversary date," As soon as the words left your mouth Jeongin got up on his feet his eyes widening in fear, trying to walk over to you and apologise in any way that he could but you weren't going to stand for it. This time you'd had enough of his excuses of blaming things on being too tired, it wasn't an n excuse anymore when you'd given him reminders all week. Telling him how excited you were for your date on Friday, not to mention that it was the anniversary of the two of you first got together. 

"I thought that was next week," He pleaded with you trying to get you to speak to him but you just walked up to the bathroom, not wanting to fight with him while you were dressed in wet clothes. 

"Babe!" He called out but you shut and locked the door in his face, turning on the shower and radio so you wouldn't have to hear him yelling for you to open the door while you were showering.

When you emerged from the bathroom Jeongin was waiting for you on the edge of your bed, staring at you as he waited for you to speak first but you weren't going to. The silent treatment seemed like the best course of action so you kept your mouth shut, peeling back the covers and climbing inside and covering yourself up. 

"That's it then? You're not even going to talk to me?" Jeongin snapped as he stared at you, turning the light on whenever you would turn it off. 

"I'm tired." You lied as you laid there with your eyes shut, you weren't tired. Far from it. The thought of Jeongin not remembering your anniversary was bothering you more than it should have been meanwhile it didn't seem to bother him one bit. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen. I thought that it was next week...You know I never would have stood you up-"

"But you would, this isn't the first time and it won't be the last so whatever," You rolled over on your side to face away from him but Jeongin wasn't going to let you get away with it, 

"What do you mean it's not the first time?" You scoffed as if he didn't know. 

"You ditch me all of the time to hang out with the boys. I'm used to it. I just thought tonight would be different." The room fell into an uncomfortable silence as Jeongin tried to remember the last time he cancelled on a date to hang out with the boys instead but he couldn't. 

"I've never-" You sat up which cut him off, he could see the anger written across your face as you stared at him.

"The date we went on when you decided to meet my parents. I had to rearrange it seven times because the boys were doing something you just had to be included in." You stated as you angrily got out of the bed and placed your hands on your hips. 

"I have friends Y/n! A life! I can't help it if things come up," Which was true but what bothered you more was that he had made plans with you first and then bailed on you. 

"You can always rearrange with the guys, something like meeting my parents and our anniversaries are a one-time thing," You hoped that he was seeing where you were coming from with all of this but from the look on his face you could tell he hadn't gotten it. The angrier you got the more tears began to well up in your eyes but you didn't want to cry in front of him, he would think you were upset but you weren't. You were pissed off. 

"Babe. I'm sorry, okay? I'll make it up to you." He soothed as he reached out to take your hand in his, dragging you onto the bed beside him as he wouldn't take no for an answer. 

"I'll cancel my weekend plans, we'll spend the weekend together. Just the two of us," He promised as he kissed the top of your head over and over again.

Tagline: @taestannie​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @minholuvs​ @sw33tnight​ @acciocriativity​ @that-anxious-bisexual​

[rindouheart]

Congratulations for your 100 followers!!!! You deserve it

Could you please make 46 with mitsuya ? 🥺

MITSUYA TAKASHI + #46 “keep your hands where i can feel them”

drabble info. fluff fluff fluff. hella short but wholesome <3

notes: thank you for requesting cutie! here’s your drabble. it’s a bit short and it’s also the first time that i write something with mistuya. i hope you like it!!

another long, hard and exhausting day is going to end. being both a college student and a part time worker is draining, you and your boyfriend know it too well.

you’re currently studying finance and business, and your love mitsuya has recently got in in a fashion university. you know his family isn’t swimming in gold, but a couple of months ago, he won a special scholarship which also gave him the opportunity to study in a famous university.

you’re really, really proud of him. he is the most important person who entered in your life and you could never be grateful enough. however, he has only one flaw: locking himself inside his studio when he’s working on an important project. sometimes he doesn’t take enough care of himself, and, sadly, during these short periods, he doesn’t spend much time with you.

“taka, are you in there?” you say while knocking at his door. you need one of his hugs at the moment: six hours of lessons and a couple of scores that didn’t satisfy you weren’t exactly what you were expecting today. just a short, simple sentence as an answer. “i’m working”.

you know he needs space when he’s designing or creating, but, is a simple hug too much to ask for? you deeply inhale and decide to go to bed, maybe he will come to sleep with you, hopefully soon. you lay on your shared bed, sniffling from all the emotional and psychological stress you have faced today.

sure, it isn’t mitsuya’s fault, but when someone you love ignores you out of the blue, it’s not the best thing that can happen. you close your eyes and hug your blanket instead, trying to find a bit of warmth.

you don’t know when he laid on the bed too, you just wake up knowing he’s gently caressing your head. “i’m sorry” he mumbles, shifting near you. “i didn’t know you were feeling so overwhelmed before”.

“i don’t like when you ignore me how you did” you sniffle, trying to not break down in the middle of the night. “i should have listened to you, love, i am really sorry. it won’t happen again” mitsuya keeps on excusing himself, as if he had just committed the worst of the crimes. his heart is truly made of gold.

“it’s understandable if you kick me off the bed tonight” he faintly smiles, enveloping you in a hug, the hug you have wished since this morning.

“stay here and keep your hands where i can feel them, please” you mumble, “so i know you have not ran away and locked you up in your studio again”.

“tonight i’m not going anywhere, love” and then, he gives you a small peck on your forehead while hugging you. he won’t lock himself in again.

rindouheart’s 100 followers drabbles event — please don’t copy or steal 060722

[rommahh]

I Carry Your Heart

Harry Styles x Reader

Word Count: 4k

{Ahhhh ok so this is my first work like ever. There will definitely be a second part because ive got more to say and it needs a second part. I hope whoever sees and reads this imagine enjoys it. I appreciate comments, likes, reblogs, ideas on what could go into the story, and any form of help and redirection as to how i should write things. Much love, R.}.

Part two

All Y/N wanted tonight was to hang out with her boyfriend, eat a mass amount of junk food, and watch a marvel movie or two. That was all she wanted and that was all she asked of her boyfriend. Instead of any of that happening, she found herself sitting on the nasty kitchen island of her boyfriend's frat at a party that she was trying to avoid going to.

This party was supposedly ‘the party of the year.’ The last rager before finals and then christmas break. Y/N had spent the whole week studying and finishing up end of semester projects hence the want for a chill night. When Harry came to her saying his frat was throwing a party tonight and that he just HAD to be here, Y/N didn't feel like she had a choice but to let him go. She came because she thought this would be the only time she would be able to have some time with Harry after a long week of barely seeing each other. With two vastly different majors, the couple wasnt able to find a lot of time in the middle of school work to make time for just the two of them. Obviously her hopes of quality time with her man were futile because here she was sitting by herself in the kitchen of the frat while Harry drank and got high with his friends in other parts of the house.

Of course she was disappointed. She felt a knot in her throat and a weight on her chest just sitting there in that kitchen. Her white claw was warm now- not that it was any cold when she opened it. She was starting to form a small headache from the too loud music and the ache in her heart was growing.

She stood from the countertop on the search for her boyfriend, hoping he wasn't too far gone from sober. Wiping the back of her jeans from anything that was left on the island, she began walking around the house. She doesn't remember the last time the two of them spent time together by themselves. Of course they occasionally ate dinner together in the dining hall but they were normally surrounded by friends. Y/N wanted to be alone with her boyfriend to talk and bask in his presence.

After pushing through groups of partying humans, she found Harry and at least ten other people sitting around playing some sort of drinking game.

“Y/N! Where have you been?” Luca, one of Harry's frat brothers yelled out to her from the circle. Luca was cool, he was one of the only tolerable boys in this frat aside from Harry. Hearing his girlfriend's name, Harry turned around from where he sat on the ground and reached out for his girlfriend to sit beside him. Much to Y/N’s dismay, Harry was wasted. His eyes were half mass and his words bumped and slurred together. “We are playing truth or dare, wanna play?” Luca asked.

“I don't wanna play but Ill sit and watch.” Sitting next to her boyfriend, she grabbed one of his hands holding it in her lap. She was annoyed at him but it did her no good to show it when he was this drunk.

This game of truth or dare was childish. Dares of licking people's shoes and taking multiple shots had been done and truths about money and relationships were being spilled among the group. It had finally become Harry’s turn to do something, making Y/N tense.

“Ok Harry, I dare you to…” One drunk frat boy started looking around the room trying to come up with something clever. His eyes landed on a pretty girl in the room, Yara, a stuck up girl who for sure got her way no matter what. “I dare you to kiss the hottest girl in the room- obviously not your girlfriend because that defeats the purpose.” The frat boy smirked knowing what his intentions were. Everyone in the group giggles and gasped shocked by the dare but ready to see what was going to go down. Y/N’s brows furrowed as she became angry with the stupid dare.

The ache in her chest seemed to tip over the edge when she felt her boyfriend in the room move to stand up. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt as a way of stopping him. Harry halted his movements to look down at his girlfriend. He giggled a little.

“You’re not actually going to do this right?” She asked Harry with wide eyes of shock. Harry laughed at her like she made a joke, making her heart hurt even more.”Harry I do not want you to do this just take the shot and lose the dare.” Her tone held warning.

“Don't be silly of course I'm going to. It's just a dare, nothing serious. Don't be so clingy.” He stood walking over to Yara and planted a wet kiss on her mouth. Yara gripped Harry’s shirt and kissed him harder. The kiss went on for a few more seconds, the room absolutely silent out of shock. Harry stepped back from Yara slightly sobering up from his actions. Yara smirked at Y/N, hand gliding down the front of Harry's shirt.

Y/N stood from the seat she was in and scoffed. Scoffed because she should've known Harry would do something like this. Scoffed because it hurt to see her boyfriend do something so careless without any regard for his girl's feelings. She pulled herself together, feeling her throat tighten once again. She was quick to leave the room and down the hall of the frat.

Harry's clumsy steps could be heard from behind her as he mumbled her name. Or at least he tried to. He was still so out of it, his words not making much sense. Y/N was crying now, the strength that she had slowly dissolving as she walked further away from her boyfriend.

“Y/N wait. P-please wait. I cant-” Harry stumbled over his legs behind her falling into the grass of the front yard. The girl couldn't help but turn around looking at her stupid boyfriend. She was choking on sobs now. She wasn't crying over a measly little kiss but over an extreme amount of burnout from school and exhaustion from simply existing. She was crying because her boyfriend ignored her boundaries, crushing and erasing the boundaries she had set in their relationship. Harry tried reaching for her once she had stopped walking. His hand clasped around her wrist, he laid his head down on her shoulder. He hated seeing her cry even if he was too drunk to see why.

“Baby don't leave, Im-Im Sorry.” He hiccuped and burped due to the alcohol. Y/N felt her rage build. Shoving Harry off of her, she crossed her arms across her chest as a way to shield herself from Harry physically. He was hurt by her distance and the wall she put up around her.

“You're an idiot Harry. An idiot!” her sobs grew louder, some stray party goers watching in amusement- some even snapchatting it for shits and giggles. “I didnt want you to kiss her and you did. What provoked you to think that was ok? All I wanted was for us to hang out tonight and just be us and you did this!” She was yelling now. Her hurt is beyond her now. Anger and rage simmered throughout her body making her head dizzy and her fingers curl within themselves. She didnt like being angry. It wasn't an emotion she liked acting on, it felt impersonal.

“Baby I don't under-” Before Harry could finish his sentence he was barfing at his feet. Y/N stepped back disgusted with her boyfriend. She couldn't even feel remorseful because of how angry she was. Luca, the frat brother from earlier, caught up with Harry and his girl only to find Harry doubled over heaving. Luca wrapped his arms around Harry's shoulders.

“I'm sorry Luca but I can't do this tonight. Can you please make sure he gets some water and goes to bed. I-I can't do it tonight, I wish I could but I can't.” Y/N didn't want to leave her boyfriend in this state but she didn't deserve this. She wasn't going to care for her drunk boyfriend when all she wanted to do was care for herself. Selfishly, she enjoyed seeing him this way because of the anger he caused her.

Luca shook his head in understandment. “Of course, I'm really sorry for tonight. He's going to seriously regret this in the morning, especially since it will be circulating all over snapchat in the morning.” Luca waved to Y/N then proceeded to pull Harry into the house. Harry called out for Y/N not wanting to be away from her but Luca pulled him harder.

Harry woke up the next morning feeling like the bottom of a dumpster. He wasn't shocked by that. He knew he got trashed last night, he had planned to. He, just like Y/N, spent all week studying and completing projects while also fulfilling certain responsibilities for his frat. He wanted one night to be a normal teen. So he drank and drank and drank and maybe even smoked some weed. As he tried to recall last night's events he came up with nothing. He didn't understand why Y/N wasn't here with him like she normally would after a party on the weekend. They were normally always together during the weekend. A bad feeling loomed over him. He could tell something wasn't right but decided to put his feelings to the side.

He saw a bottle of water beside his bed making him think she was probably here and left early. Chugging the water he started to go through his socials to see if anyone had posted about the party. He had multiple tagged pics and videos in his notifications from snapchat. Way more than he normally would.

The first video he saw was a video of him and Y/N standing in the front yard of the frat house. Turning the volume all the way up he could hear Y/N yelling, it shocked him. She doesn't normally raise her voice, especially not at him. The angle changed showing her face which was red with anger, eyes filled with unshed tears. He could hear her yelling about him kissing someone else. He felt his heart stop. He had kissed someone else? On the next snap was a picture of him keeled over vomiting on his shoes with the caption saying, ‘are yall seeing this shit?’ Harry was embarrassed but he was more concerned than anything.

His head was hurting but it didn't stop him from rolling out of bed, washing up, and putting on a fresh set of clothes. He checked his phone hoping Y/N had messaged him but nothing was there. He walked into the kitchen only to see luca sitting at the counter eating cereal.

“Hey Harry….” Luca said warily. Luca pushed the cereal around his bowl feeling the tension begin to rise in the room. He felt horrible about his friends.

“Luca...what's up?” Harry was confused by Lucas' wariness.

“So do you remember anything about last night?” Luca asked, setting his cereal down in the sink behind him. Harry started playing with the frayed edges of a bracelet Y/N made for him. It had little beads with her name on it. They made them together at an event on campus.

“I don't, I only saw the videos of Y/N screaming at me. I think I fucked up but I- I don't know what happened.” Harry's cheek flushed with even more embarrassment. Luca awkwardly chuckled scratching the back of his neck.

“You got dared to kiss the hottest girl in the room and um actually did it in front of Y/N...even though she didn't want you to. Which led you guys outside and yeah you know the rest...Im sorry dude, I wish I had stopped you.”

“Who- who did I kiss?” Harrys stomach lurched when he heard Yara’s name come out of Lucas' name. Y/N didn't like Yara and it was understandable. Yara has been pining after Harry since their first year of college. Harry couldn't breathe. He felt disgusted with himself. He could only imagine how Y/N was feeling.

Y/N woke up the same morning, eyes puffy and crusty from tears and head hurting. She probably cried herself into dehydration. She was lucky enough to have no roommate because she wouldn't have wanted someone else to see her breakdown. She still couldn't believe last night went down the way it went down. She couldn't tell if she was just being overdramatic or if her emotions were in the right place. She didn't want to be mad at Harry. He was everything to her, she had an odd connection to him. Meeting him during their freshman welcome week they quickly became best friends with a growing romantic connection in the mix. They started dating before Christmas break. They had grown close so fast that he even came home with her to meet her family for the first few days of break.  Even though they were in their junior year of college, Y/N could see them beyond college. She's imagined them getting married, travelling, sharing a home. She saw the whole future with him. She had her doubts though. He was immature just like every other boy in college. He was dumb with his actions and tended to only do things if they benefited him. He had a lot of growing to do as a person, so did she but she wanted to grow with him.

She heard a knock on her door hesitating to answer it because one, it could be Harry, and two, she looked like a wreck. Answering anyways, she was met with a very sorry looking Harry holding a small coffee and bagel from their cafe.

“Hi baby…” He sheepishly said holding out the items. She silently let him through the door not once looking him in the eye. He stepped into her room, setting her treats on her desk. He could see that her bed was messy meaning she recently woke up. Y/N never went about her day without making her bed. He turned back to her and finally their eyes met. He took in all of her facial features, from her puffy eyes, to her downturned lips that looked chapped, to her flushed cheeks that longed to be held for warmth. He hated to see her like this, the last time he saw her so upset was when her parents moved out of her childhood home. It took alot to make Y/N this upset. She was normally really headstrong and vigilant. She knew how to ease her way out of problematic situations and could talk her way through anything.

Harry opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Y/N holding her hand up in front of his face. “Don't talk. I'm really hurt Harry, so if your plan was to come over here and apologize over bagels- think again.” She snapped, backing up to put space between the two of them. She sat down on her bed while Harry pulled the desk chair out and sat down. He much preferred to be on the bed with her holding her tight but he didn't want to overstep boundaries.

“Love, I don't know where to begin. I'm really sorry for what happened last night. I was really drunk and obviously wasn't in the right headspace.” Harry reached out and touched the tips of her fingers with his. She wanted to move but it felt good to be touched by Harry.

“I told you that a measly little apology won't do Harry. I didn't want you to kiss Yara and you did anyway. You know how Yara feels about you and you just let it happen!” She pulled her hand away remembering the prior night's events. Harry felt himself getting angry too. He felt like he needed to defend himself- even though it would be a very bad idea.

“I think you're being over dramatic.” Wrong move Harry. “It wasn't like I was making out with her!”

“You're joking right?” She scoffed and scooted further up her bed to create more distance. “Harry it's the simple fact that you did something that made me uncomfortable that shouldn't have even happened. I see myself getting married to you and it makes me worry that right now in our relationship you can't respect my boundaries!” She yelled. Harry’s eyes widened as he laughed sarcastically.

“Married? What the fuck are you on about? I'm a junior in college. In what world would it make sense for me to be prepping a relationship for marriage? Once again I think you're being over dramatic.” Her eyes watered hearing Harry's statement.

“I- I guess I'm the only one in this relationship thinking about the future? I thought we were on the same page. I'm not planning our marriage now, obviously. I'm thinking about how elements of our relationship now could play out in the future when we do want to get married. You cheated on me last night. I went to a party you begged ME to go to only to be there for you. I wanted to be here cuddling with you, pigging out on fast food but I was at a party with you and got cheated on!” Her volume rises once again, making Harry shove his chair from underneath him when he stands up.

“You're doing too much right now. I'm not planning a future right now because I don't want this future! I want to be myself without thinking about how to appease my girlfriend. I invited you to the party so you could lighten the fuck up. I love you, I do, but I'm not thinking of marriage and futures. I'm thinking about my life right now and having fun.” Harry snapped right back at her. Her chin wobbled. Obviously her and Harry were on different pages. It hurt so much to hear him say that he didn't want a future with her. Harry didn't mean it though.

“Ok, well I guess that's my fault for assuming we were thinking along the same lines. Um, I don't want to hold you back from being yourself so with that being said, you are a free man Harry.” She pushed herself up from her bed walking to the door ready to escort Harry out.

“Huh? Love, what?” Harry was confused on how they got to this point. Just a few days ago they were in love, meeting in the library to share a lunch and exchanging sweet words determined by their love.

“Listen I have a day full of exams tomorrow so if you could just leave that would be best. You don't really want this so I'm letting you go, Harry.” She had tears rolling down her face, falling from her eyes down to her chin where they fell to the ground in droplets. Harry’s eyes welled up watching his love cry before him.

“I don't-”

“Harry, leave, please.” She opened the door making room for him to go through. He walked through the door turning to look at her. She turned her face away from him whispering a small goodbye before shutting the door. Harry was left in the silent hallway, so silent he could hear his thoughts and the tears hitting the tile floor beneath him. He thinks he stood there for at least thirty more minutes before accepting what had happened and walking away.

Leaving Y/N in her room sobbing like she had never done before. Her tears coated her face and she thought her head could explode right then and there. She didn't want to accept what had happened but she had priorities. She composed herself enough to start studying for her exams.

The week rolled by quickly, Monday meeting Friday in a flash. Exams were done and Christmas break was on the horizon. Students were piling off of campus in a hurry ready to get home to their loved ones. People were outside by cars loading up their winter necessaries and saying their goodbyes to their close friends.

Harry cried everyday this week. He wasn't normally a crier. He hated crying, he hated the feeling of crying and the headache that came from it. He cried because he realized how wrong he was. He missed Y/N. He missed finals week dinner together where they tried to get off campus at least once and be alone for a moment. He missed watching her relax while eating food that wasn't from their school's cafeteria. He would pay for their meal just so she could have one less thing to worry about. They would normally get frozen yogurt right after too, Y/N getting as many toppings as she wanted because Harry would be the one paying. He missed her tight after exam hugs. She would squeeze his shoulders tight, smiling into his neck, telling him how proud she was of him. She would bring him tea in the morning when they met for breakfast. Sometimes they would spend the night in one or the others room so they could have time together to destress and just talk.

Y/N wasn't doing any better. She normally went into exam week feeling confident. She studied too hard not to. But this week she felt like shit. Her heart hurt and she kept thinking about the fight. She feels like she overreacted but hearing Harry talk about their lack of a future hurt nonetheless. She really assumed that they did have a future that included marriage and a life together. She didn't understand where his sudden lack of commitment came from. She regretted dumping him but at the same time she wished he did more to get them back together but he was silent. He hasn't contacted her at all and avoided all of their spots on campus all together.

She stood by her car prepping for her six hours car ride back home. Packing away her clothes and some essentials in the trunk of her car, she heard light footsteps behind her. Closing her trunk she turned to see Harry standing with his hands in his pockets.  

“Hi.” He said. She looked at him, putting her own hands in her pockets. It was cold outside, the nippy air hinting at a possibility of snow.

“Hi Harry.” They shared a moment of silence together. Just staring at each other. It felt good to be near each other again. They felt like they could breathe again.

“I had to see you before you left. I know the break is only a month but I didn't want to leave without seeing you.” He replied quietly. She made him feel so shy. Her beauty always made him awestruck. Even in a hoodie with their college's logo and some large sweatpants and some fuzzy crocs, she was the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

“I don't know what to say harry.”

“It's ok. I don't deserve anything from you after what I said. I just wanted to apologize and wish you a good break before you left. I also wanted to give you this.” He pulled a small box and envelope out of the front pocket of his backpack. “I know we agreed on no presents but I think thats a dumb rule and I love you too much to not get you something.” She smiled at his words, taking the gift from his hands.

“Thank you Harry, it means a lot to me. So what are your plans for a break?” She asked him, the tension that was in the air slowly dissipating.

“I couldn't get a flight home until next wednesday so i'll stay here on campus until then.” He shrugged.

“Oh ok. Well tell Anne I said hi. I have to go Harry but I'll see you after the break, ok?” She didn't want to leave him but she didn't want to drive through the dark.

“Ok, love. Drive safe. I lov- I mean have a good break.” Her chest tightened at his hesitation. She wants to hear him say the words but she knows he won't.

“Have a good break Harry.” She whispered. Before getting in her car she stood on her toes placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Rubbing her thumb across his cheek and turning away and into her car.

She drove away knowing that her heart was left in that parking lot in the hands of someone she loves way too much.

Harry stood in the parking lot watching his heart drive away for winter wanting nothing more than to be with her.

Part two

[ptergwen]

love is more than a word

w/c: a very ouch 3.6k

warnings: so so so much angst and an unhealthy (ish) relationship

summary: after nearly four years together, peter has stopped trying

a/n: listen y’all i don’t know what came over me when i made this but i think it’s the saddest thing i’ve ever written? uh try to enjoy tho

-

you never thought this would happen, but you’re getting tired of peter. it isn’t your fault. that cliche it’s not you, it’s me line doesn’t apply here.

at first, you actually did find yourself believing the it’s me part. you’d came to the conclusion that you expect too much from peter. he goes to class, he works, patrols, sometimes parties, takes you out when he can. he’s got a lot going on for a full time college student, which is a busy life to lead on its own.

it’s why you don’t complain when he wants to spend the night in and order a pizza instead of cooking together like you’ve been wanting to try. it’s why every time your friends ask you two to hang, you have to reluctantly explain that peter is passed out at eight o’clock on a saturday.

there’s a lazy “wanna make out?” some nights, if peter isn’t yawning when he steps through the front door. even that has lost its enjoyment. kissing peter doesn’t give you the rush it used to, the taste of his strawberry chapstick not flooding your senses and intoxicating you. it’s become predictable. comfortable. boring.

peter is boring.

you’ve slipped into unspoken routine. say your hello’s, work on separate assignments in different rooms. peter eventually yells something like “babe, you hungry yet?” across the apartment, his passive way of asking you to make dinner. you usually order takeout because why make an effort if he doesn’t?

you might watch one of the ten movies peter has liked since before the start of your relationship. he’ll usually fall asleep during it. no surprise there. his overpacked schedule exhausts him, which you’ve talked to him about spreading himself too thin. peter is too nice and can’t say no, so this is where it leaves him.

the main reason you’ve stayed with him is that he can’t take care of himself. he’s clueless about paying the bills, sorting his laundry, simply remembering to drink water. peter wouldn’t be able to go a week without you. he even says it himself.

“crap, i totally forgot about these,” when you picked up his special ordered textbooks from your school library. “can food go in the garbage disposal?” a rare time you didn’t wash the dishes. “thank you, y/n/n. you’re literally a lifesaver,” whenever you do a task for him that someone in their 20s shouldn’t need assistance with.

you didn’t used to mind much. he watches over the city every night. you felt you should return the favor. spider-man could use some help, too. after the almost four years you’ve been together, peter has become completely dependent on you. it only got worse when you moved in together your junior year. you’re concerned how he’ll manage later in his adult life.

you’d think he’d be a little more passionate about your relationship considering how much he needs you. you know peter still loves you, of course he does. that’s not what the problem is. he’s become content with the mutual feeling, so he doesn’t try anymore. he expects the spark to keep itself lit.

no more random joke of the day texts that he used to send you. he stopped surprising you with your coffee order in the morning, the one that he memorized the first time you two went to a starbucks. what you initially found most endearing about peter was that he remembered every little thing you told him.

he put whatever energy he had into showing you that he listened. he’d do it all with rosy cheeks and that toothy smile of his. it seems now like he’s under the impression that being in a long term relationship means none of that matters anymore. there’s no need to impress you, keep you guessing, make you feel special.

tonight is your breaking point. as you go over all of this in your head while peter lays peacefully next to you, you can’t take it. you’ve been making so many excuses for him. you lie to yourself. you’re desperate to believe this is okay and normal and you can work this out, and you can love whatever version of him this is.

but, you can’t. you can’t do it. you need to tell him now because if you sleep on this, you’ll end up feeling bad and be stuck under these suffocating blankets forever.

“peter?” you whisper his name, your back turned to him in bed. you haven’t cuddled each other to sleep in a while. his arms don’t make you feel held now, they make you feel trapped. you’ve been forcing yourself to ignore his look of hurt when you reject his open embrace.

“peter?” you speak louder after a moment of silence, except for his occasional snores. a loud one escapes him before they stop altogether. his eyes stay shut as he mumbles out a, “uh... huh?” your heart is thudding through your entire body. you take a breath in from your nose. “i wanna break up.”

the breath you let out next is one of relief, those three words that have been scratching your throat for months finally out. peter slowly turns his head over his shoulder. he blinks rapidly at your motionless figure. you’re still not facing him.

“what?” is all he says. his voice is surprisingly steady, the confession not yet registering with his sleepy mind. his eyes are burning into you. “i wanna break up,” you repeat and squish your face further into your pillow. peter suddenly sits up, flicking on the lamp on his side. he tries to sling an arm around you. you move further away until you’re at the edge of the bed.

“i’m serious, peter. everything we had, it’s gone.” your words cut through him harder than literal knives he’s been stabbed with. “i- i don’t understand. where is this coming from?” he rakes a hand through his mess of curls. you turn onto your back, looking up at peter. his eyes are fixed on your lower half.

he’ll most definitely cry if he meets your eyes. he really doesn’t want to cry, not ever again when you won’t be here to make him feel better.

“it’s been coming,” you almost scoff at him as you prop yourself up against your pillows. peter’s teeth tug at his lower lip. “all we do is this.” you gesture to your bed, slapping your hand down at your side. “i get tired,” he speaks quietly, refusing to look at you. “i know you do, peter. i know, but you’d be a lot happier if you ever listened to me.”

your statement comes off as condescending to him. he works up the courage to look you in the face. “are you kidding? all you do is boss me around, and i take it. i’ve never once complained.” anger is coursing through his veins and voice. at the situation, that he’s about to lose the one stable part of his life. you’re getting pissed, too.

“that’s because you can’t do anything yourself!” you throw the blankets off you and swing your legs over the bed in one motion. peter hops out of bed entirely. “my whole life, i’ve been on my own half the time,” he spits as he comes over to stand in front of you. “sorry for taking you up on your offers to help.”

your peter would never spew that shit out. he wouldn’t guilt you for something he’s in the wrong about. this peter takes you for granted. he has no clue how fucked he’d be without you.

the first time you spoke to peter was on your way to history 227. you’d recognized him from your class, much more interested in the pretty boy taking notes with his tongue stuck out than whatever war your professor would lecture about.

he was carrying some books, a pencil case that didn’t fully zip, and a five subject notebook. you watched him do his balancing act through the halls until his legs started to wobble. a knowing smile on your face, you tapped his shoulder. it was a gentle one so you didn’t scare him and make all his things fall over.

“can i carry something for you?” you laughed out and pushed one of your backpack straps up on your shoulder. peter only stared at you, his doe eyes prompting you to reach for his pencil case. “uh, no, it’s fine. i got it. see?” he proved that to you by hiking everything up in his arms. he gave you a smile of his own.

“are you sure? we’re going to the same place,” you’d checked again and pointed at his impressive pile. “i’m not gonna steal your sharpies.” “really, i’m fine,” peter insisted with a heart clenching chuckle. “you can have one, if you want,” he offered and attempted to unzip his case, one handed. you put your hand over his to stop him.

“wait until we get to class,” you let go of him, leaving the tips of peter’s ears a shade of pink you’d later fall in love with. “i’ll sit with you.”

peter was once determined to do things on his own, to be self-sufficient. it used to be something he was proud of. now, he’s completely incapable of holding his independence.

“we’re done, peter.” your tone is short, you getting to your feet. “you’d probably forget how to fucking breathe without me, but call it bossing around, i guess,” you laugh bitterly and go over to your drawers. peter’s face falls as he grabs your wrist, stopping you when you pass by him. “where are you going?”

no answer. you pull yourself out of his grasp with your lips pressed into a stern line. peter follows you step by step over to the dresser. “wait, wait. don’t leave, baby. please,” he begs you, getting onto his knees beside you. you’re pulling random clothes out as quick as you can. a science t-shirt peter outgrew is in your hands.

peter used to give you all his old clothes. the signature smell of his cologne lingered no matter how many times you washed them. they kept you calm on nights he was out late patrolling or away on missions. peter would sport a smirk whenever you wore them out in public, pulling you closer to him and complimenting the look.

it started when he was packing for his first mission since you two had begun living together. he’d realized he became too buff to fit in some shirts. remembering how many times you’d giggle at their funny sayings, peter gave them to you. you threw one on and thanked him with a peck on the cheek. it became your tradition.

peter would set off for a new continent, but a piece of him would stay home with you.

the stretched out hoodies and ripped sweatpants just sit in your drawer now. another meaningful thing discontinued. whatever he doesn’t want goes to may for donations now. the memory of what they used to mean to you makes a fit of rage burst through you.

you slam down his ‘find x’ shirt in the space between his knees and yours. you’re on a mission of your own this time. you aren’t going anywhere until you get rid of all the stuff that went from him to you.

“y/n, don’t do this. i- i love you. i love you.” peter chokes out, tears filling his eyes. his vision is clouded while you toss more clothes to your side. “i love you, y/n/n,” he whimpers again, and this time you briskly push the drawer shut. the whole dresser shakes. this is the most emotion either of you have shown in the past few months of your relationship. it’s a little too late.

“love is more than a word, peter. you have to back it up with actions.” you’re doing your best not to cry. the memories of how loved peter made you feel play in your mind. he briefly wipes under his eyes and shakes his head. he’s so oblivious. “i thought i- i did.” “exactly, you did. you gave up at some point.” your voice gets weaker as a tear drips down your chin.

you didn’t plan on breaking down when you imagined this moment. part of you wishes you could give him another chance. most of you knows it wouldn’t do any good for you or peter. you’re not right for each other anymore. he outgrew some sweatshirts, you outgrew him.

that takes you all the way back to it’s not you, it’s me. it’s really both of you.

for the last time, you pull peter in for a hug. the two of you need this. he loops his arms around your back, keeping them loose around you as he tucks his face into the side of your neck. you’re a mix of tears and sharp breaths with your chin on his shoulder. you bring a hand up to the back of his head, grabbing a fistful of curls.

he sobs right into your ear, effectively destroying whatever composure you had left.

even though you’re not in love with peter, you haven’t stopped loving him. somewhere inside of him is the goofy boy who asked you out on a post-it during class. the kindhearted man who gave so much of himself to the world and saved enough for you. the one whose fingertips left goosebumps on your skin with every touch.

seeing him like this, having caused it feels like a dull pain rippling in every part of your body. you’ve been there to soothe him during countless breakdowns over the years. you managed to stay strong for all of them. this is the only exception. he lost people, felt down about life, made mistakes. you were there to pick up each piece and put them back together.

the one mistake peter made that you can’t fix is not loving you right. you became his rock, his anchor whenever he let grief and sadness rule over him. you’d get him back to himself. he could’ve at least bought you flowers once in a while, or done anything that showed his gratitude. every iteration of awful put together isn’t enough to describe how he feels.

“i’m so- i’m so fucking sorry, baby. i don’t deserve you. i never have,” peter murmurs as he cries, wetting your skin that his face is still pressed into. your fingers pull roughly at his hair. hot tears overflow from your own eyes. “i should’ve done more.” his voice cracks on the last word. “that’s all i wanted to hear, pete,” you breathe out and pull away from him.

“does that mean you’ll stay?” he croaks, arms still wound around your body. his eyes are hopeful when they lock with yours. a frown pulls at your lips. “only for tonight. i should... one of us should sleep on the couch.” “oh,” his voice is gravelly, so he clears his throat. “i’ll do it.” you’re not going to fight him on it for once.

peter removes his arms from your waist, you sitting back down on your thighs. you give him a blink and you’ll miss it smile because you can’t keep one for long. it’s to let him know you’re not mad. you were at the start of this conversation, then he took accountability. you also came to terms with the fact that the downfall of your relationship was a joined effort.

there are more factors than peter not giving you what he should have. time, different goals, new outlooks on life. you can’t hate only him because a whole bunch of things lead to this.

instead of a smile, since he physically can’t put one on his splotchy face, peter brushes the pad of his thumb over the corner of your lips. he gets up to leave the room, but you stop him with a “wait!” he freezes in front of you. you get out a hoodie from his pile of old clothes and stand up. “it’s cold.” you put it in his hands, earning a grin that he didn’t think was possible.

“thanks, y/n,” peter sighs and holds the hoodie against his chest. “goodnight. um,” this is the part where he’d usually say i love you. “sleep well, okay?” the replacement stings for both of you. you’ll have to learn to fall asleep without hearing that phrase first. as much as you didn’t feel it anymore, you’d become used to it. “you too, peter. night,” you say softly.

you head back to your bed while peter walks out the door. he glances at you once, and you’re already settling under the covers. he shuts the door behind him before finding his way to the couch.

your bed has always seemed too small. it’s gigantic without peter. you aren’t sure how you feel about that yet.

peter lays across the couch, the hood that doesn’t quite fit him pulled over his head. he’s only wearing it because you gave it to him. you doing that not even five minutes ago was how you backed up your love with actions. it’s so easy. silent tears spill from his eyes at the realization.

he wishes on every star that he could’ve figured out he wasn’t doing enough sooner. you’d be together right now, had he just caught on. there was a time he prided himself on knowing you fully and completely. how to turn you into the shy one with certain combinations of words, what your schedule was each week so he could plan his free time around it.

your relationship became something he thought would last unconditionally. if only he was able pinpoint the exact moment he went wrong.

you’re right in the other room. he can go in there and bawl, plead for you to take him back. how could he do that and claim to love you, though? you’ve made it clear you‘re over him.

the best way for peter to show you he loves you is by letting you live your life, without him in it.

-

you don’t see peter again for weeks. he moved back in with may, and you got to keep the apartment. you were the one who took all the care of it, anyway.

your semester ended at the perfect time because peter isn’t in any of your new classes. the city is too big to bump into each other. you’re free from the hold he had on you, which would’ve been four years long since yesterday. you’ve been good at picking up his broken pieces for too long, and now it’s time to pick up your own.

for all the hangouts you missed on his behalf, you made up for it. you called mj the day after your breakup and met for lunch. she never explicitly said it, but she took your side. peter had a feeling because when he had the same idea as you, to lean on his friends for support, she never reached out.

betty is indifferent, ned stays cordial with you. his real loyalty is to peter. you can’t blame him.

peter hasn’t been doing well since you broke up. he’s not eating enough, he can’t focus on work of any kind. you were right when you said he would forget how to breathe without you. he often wonders how you’ve been.

he finds out today.

you’re walking around campus, heading in the direction peter just came from. he has a class in the building your last one was. the two of you are on the same sidewalk, opposite sides. he almost doesn’t recognize you.

mj is on one side of you, a guy he’s never seen before with an arm around your shoulders. you’re all laughing about whatever dumb thing your professor said during the lecture. your hair, which is done in a new style, flows behind you in the spring breeze. a smile takes place on your glossy lips. the smile is directed towards that guy. your new boyfriend, peter assumes.

you look amazing, and not only physically. you seem happy with your small group of people. peter hadn’t been able to give you that happiness in years, so it’s nice to see you got it back somehow.

he must have stared too long because you notice him. you fall behind mj and your potential boyfriend, both of them wrapped up in discussing your next project. peter stops walking. you do the same. he’s not sure if he upset you, or what’s going on. his instincts tell him to apologize. his mouth stays closed.

that infectious smile of yours appears once again. you thought about peter yesterday, it being your anniversary and all. you’d only let yourself remember the good things. they outweighed the bad ones when you look back on everything.

“aye, grandma! get over here!” mj calls to you, your boyfriend nudging her side. “take your time, y/n/n. i’m not in a rush to write seven long ass pages.” you laugh to yourself at the two of them. peter fiddles with the zipper on his jacket. it’s from the drawer of things you used to wear. “one sec!” you yell back.

“hey,” you turn to face peter, who’s giving you a tight lipped smile. “how’ve you been?” “i’m okay. just, you know,” he shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. there’s a short silence before peter says, “you seem good. really good.” he smiles for real this time. “yeah, i am. i hope you are, too,” you tell him and genuinely mean it.

you’d like to catch up soon, but it’s not right yet. you both need more time. “i’ll see you around?” you’re already starting to walk, backwards so you can see peter. “uh, sure. bye,” he gives you a quick wave and continues on his way.

you get back to mj and your boyfriend, his arm returning to your shoulders. they waited for you by the stoplight. “what’d ya get up to over there?” he teases, mj suspiciously watching your face for any tells. you carefully think through your answer with a grin. “love.”

[honeymoonjin]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 7.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: both non-sexual and sexual pet play, dom!jimin, sub!jk, sub!tae, handjob, yoongi and yn pretending like they don't wanna suck the souls out of each other, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mutual masturbation

A/N: welcome back to my best boys ;;;;-; this chapter is being cross-posted from ao3. in the future i'll try and upload in both places at the same time!

DAY TWENTY-THREE

It’s two blocks of pure ice that wake Taehyung up that Tuesday morning. Before he’s even really coherent, he’s hissing and tucking into a ball away from the cold.

“Puppy, shh, it’s just me.”

Even as those chilled items that Tae can tentatively identify as feet tuck between his bare legs, he goes lax and accepts the body that wraps around his curled back. “Minnie,” he mumbles, and it’s so quiet that the older boy probably doesn’t hear, but his grip tightens anyway. “‘What time ‘s it?”

“Early, I’m sorry.” Jimin’s voice, unlike his thawing toes, blows warm across the back of Taehyung’s neck. “Missed you.”

A sleepy smile of bliss crosses Taehyung’s face for exactly three seconds, at which point he recalls the fact that he didn’t go to sleep alone tonight. Shooting up so quickly that his shoulder catches Jimin’s chin, Taehyung peels his eyes open to see Jungkook, awkwardly hugging a pillow to his chest with his legs crossed.

He bites his lip, avoiding their gazes. “Sorry, I, uh, don’t mean to disturb.”

“Shoot.” Jimin rubs his face blearily. “I didn’t see you there, Jungkookie. I should go-”

“No, no, stay,” Taehyung begs hurriedly, launching himself back onto the mattress and wiggling himself back into the curve of Jimin’s front. “Jungkook, um, you can come cuddle too if you want. I like being middle spoon.”

The youngest gazes back and forth at them, never resting long enough for eye contact. His indecision is palpable, but there’s a pleased glimmer too. “Is that...okay with Jimin-hyung? I don’t wanna intrude.”

Jimin’s voice is soft, his eyes slipping closed as he eases his face into the crook of Taehyung’s neck, arms snaking around his torso. “You can be a part of us too, Jungkookie.”

The words are perhaps more intimate than Jimin even realises, and in the vulnerable setting of a bed in the early morning hours, Jungkook’s hard swallow is audible, before he slowly puts the pillow aside and tucks his feet under the covers, slipping down. It’s not until Taehyung’s arm is his headrest and the other one provides a comforting weight low on his hips that he speaks up again. “Do you… do you mean that just for now, or… Or for good?”

“What do you think, Minnie?” Taehyung’s fingertips trace lazily over the bare skin that’s exposed by Jungkook’s shirt riding up. “Can we keep him?”

Jimin hums in affirmation. He’s just about asleep again, but Taehyung can feel his pleased smile against his shoulder. “Of course we can, puppy.”

The repeated nickname causes Taehyung’s heart to twitch just as his dick does. It’s no less endearing and special, but Jungkook is still perfectly awake and right there, and it feels a little confronting.

But Jungkook just chuckles, twisting around in Taehyung’s slack embrace to face him, eyes bright. “If you’re a puppy, what am I?”

Taehyung’s careful not to jostle Jimin. He’s begun snoring, nothing more audible than regular snuffling, but still Tae doesn’t want to disturb that rest. “What do you mean, Jungkookie?”

He scrunches his nose, thinking away. “Well, there’s Minnie and there’s puppy. I want a cute nickname too if I’m gonna be - you know - with you guys.”

“Jungkook,” Taehyung begins haltingly, “Jimin calls me puppy because… God, it feels silly saying it out loud. He calls me puppy because sometimes when we’re together I go into puppyspace. You know; like petplay.”

“That’s not silly,” Jungkook says reflexively, even as his eyes widen and lips part. “What’s it like?”

“Puppyspace?” Taehyung asks. Jungkook nods eagerly, and the motion is transferred through Tae where they connect, making Jimin grunt and bury his nose deeper into the crook of his neck. “It’s so peaceful, Jungkookie. He takes care of me so I don’t have to think. I can nap and cuddle and play, without all of the stresses of life. It feels all warm and cosy, you know? I love it.”

Jungkook’s eyes sparkle in wonder, his fingers finding their way to Taehyung’s worn black sleepshirt, fiddling with the hem. “Can I try? How do you… how do you know if you can do it?”

Behind Taehyung, Jimin lets out a half-asleep groan, his nose pressing against the taller one’s back. “Of course you can try. Let’s just sleep for now, though? I’m sure Minnie can play with both of us later.”

It’s that promise that allows Jungkook to settle, nodding with a tentative hum and shifting down so that his head can rest in the crook of Taehyung’s neck. Taehyung falls back under like this, with a heartbeat thrumming against his back and soft, even breaths tickling his bared shoulder.

--

“Hobi?”

Hoseok pauses, frothed toothbrush clamped between his teeth. “Mmng?”

“I don’t-” you cut yourself off, clearing your throat to dislodge the thickness that distorts your voice. “Can we not tell them?”

He bends over to quickly spit out the majority of toothpaste, but when he stands upright to face you again there’s a smear on his chin. “Tell them what?”

You blink. “Last night. I just… I don’t want them to- to pity me or treat me like I’m glass or anything. I know it won’t happen again, it was just…” Shrugging hopelessly, you give up on trying to put words to it. “I don’t know.”

The dom remains silent for a few moments, lips pursed in thought. “The chicken must have been bad,” he concludes.

Bewildered, you cock your head to the side. “Huh? What chicken?”

“You and I went out for dinner at this fried chicken place, but when you got home last night it made you sick. That’s why you aren’t quite yourself today. I’ll get Yoongi-hyung to make some hangover soup.” His eyes are warm, pulling you into a comforting one-armed hug. “Just the chicken, that’s all. Yeah?”

You swallow down the swell of gratitude and instead bury yourself into his safe embrace. “Yeah. That’s all.”

To his credit, Yoongi doesn’t ask questions, pushing all his concern into his cooking. The doctor all but feeds you himself, hovering with a furrowed brow and a napkin. Strangely enough, his fussing goes a long way in cheering you up, and you let the events of yesterday wash away with the salty broth.

Hoseok hangs around for a while before going down to do some laundry, Namjoon briefly jumps in to steal a spoonful directly from the pan, eyes never leaving the novel he’s holding open with a single hand. Even Jungkook stumbles in blearily at one point, nose first, requesting an extra two bowls for Jimin and Taehyung as well.

You’re onto your second serving by the time it’s just Yoongi and you. He’s pulled up a chair beside you, cradling a coffee. “I got a text this morning, you know,” he begins gently. “I can ignore it if you’re not up to it.”

It takes you a moment to process his words, recalling Sejin’s instructions the day prior. “It’s your day, then?” He nods silently, scanning you for any reaction. You hum, spoon swirling lazily in the dregs of your breakfast. “I’m up to it,” you answer finally, “if you are.”

“Always,” Yoongi replies immediately, voice bared and soft. His hand passes over yours, squeezing briefly, before he stands up and clears the bowls from the table. “Aspirin is in the pantry if you need it, blue container.”

You give him your thanks, left alone as he disappears upstairs.

Grabbing a glass and pouring yourself some water, you track down the aspirin and take out two tablets, grimacing as the bitterness sticks to your tongue. While you may not actually be sick, a headache was beginning to bloom between your brows.

So much had happened in the past few days, you almost felt like you’d gotten whiplash. The early days of lounging around the house and chasing pleasure seemed so distant. Feelings tangled things up more each day, unraveling quicker than you can get a hold on them.

It wasn’t just you, either. You saw the way the guys looked at each other, how gentle they were, how thoughtful. It was in the little things. Jungkook’s laundry pile started featuring clothes from the other maknaes; Namjoon and Hoseok always sat so close together, even when there was room on the couch; Yoongi had started giving the others bigger portions when he cooked, even as his stayed the same. And Jin…

You startle when a door opens, glass almost slipping from your hands. It’s the unfilmed room across the stairs. You frown as a tall figure slips out, swamped in a massive pink hoodie that you’d never seen in the house before. A sleeve-covered hand reaches up to rub under the hood, dark hair poking out. Your breath catches. Jin…

He moves across the hall gingerly like his body aches, hand never leaving his face as he grumbles sleepily. For a split second, your mind entertains the thought of sprinting past before he sees you, avoiding the conflict that is no doubt upon you.

But only for a split second. Because the only thing worse than being confronted by him is not seeing him at all. You wait, instead, until he rolls his shoulders back, tipping his face to the ceiling to stretch out his spine. The hood falls back, exposing a serious case of bedhead, tired eyes, and sallow skin. But it’s Jin nonetheless, beautiful despite his apparent exhaustion, and your heart breaks again for being the one to cause this.

He notices you when his head comes back down from the stretch, and were you not in such despair you may have cracked a smile at the way he jumps. “Y/n…” he mumbles, voice barely audible.

Your mouth goes dry. Even if it wasn’t you don’t know what to say, simply bracing yourself for anger.

He doesn’t stiffen his features, however, simply watching you with melancholy eyes. “You look sad,” he says weakly.

Your heart is racing a hundred beats a second at just hearing him speak to you, and it takes you that much time just to process his words, eyes pricking sharply. “I am sad,” you reply honestly, blinking the wetness away. “You look tired,” you whisper in return.

His bottom lip trembles, before flattening tightly. Instead of responding verbally, he just nods.

The two of you sit in that silence for a while. Jin’s breathing is ragged, his eyes unfocused as they slip past you. You think you might be sick with the way your stomach flips.

Finally, you can’t stand the silence. “Are you still mad at-” you begin, but your words die in your throat as you’re enveloped tightly by him, clutching you so close that your chest constricts. The tensed breath you didn’t know you were holding rushes out of you with a sob, and your arms fly up to hug him back, just as tightly.

There’s nothing more than just a simple hug, but your heart is still full, almost overwhelmed by the cathartic relief of having him close to you again, his chin resting on the crown of your head, his hands rubbing circles on your back, the gentle sway as he rocks you in the hold.

It lasts for an eternity too short, and when he pulls away you feel untethered, already pining for that contact again.

His eyes are swimming, though you see the way he tightens his jaw to hold it back. “I’m devastated,” he admits, “but I miss you too much to ice you out like this. I need time but god, I don’t want space. Can you give me time?”

You’re nodding hastily, sniffing as your nose threatens to run. “Of course, Jin. I’ll be here. I… I think I-”

“Don’t-” he interrupts sharply, sucking in a shaky breath. “Don’t let now be the first time we say it. Later,” he promises.

We. Your skin breaks out in goosebumps, electricity thrumming along your nerves. You let that word settle you, repeating it in your head as Jin sends you a sad smile - but a smile nonetheless - and takes his leave, disappearing upstairs.

You decide to take a bath, in the end, letting yourself soak in the thought of “we” a little longer.

--

“So, what, we start barking? Chew on some sticks?”

Taehyung colours violently and Jimin sends Jungkook a sharp glare in rebuke. “Say less,” he scolds the youngest, before reaching up to run his fingers through Taehyung’s hair, breaking up the curls. “We just ease into it. Taehyung doesn’t use it for humiliation or anything like that, he just likes being taken care of. Isn’t that right, pup?”

Taehyung hums, eyes already fluttering as he leans his head into Jimin’s palm. The three of them had migrated onto Taehyung’s now-made bed after their breakfast after Jungkook once again mentioned wanting to try petplay.

Significantly larger than Jimin, Taehyung has to awkwardly shuffle down the mattress further to rest his head in Jimin’s lap, but Jungkook can immediately see the lines of stress that melt away once he does so. Jimin smooths his hand down to cup the younger’s chin, delicately stroking the soft flesh as if he were patting a sleepy dog.

“You’ll just watch for now,” Jimin instructs Jungkook without removing his gaze from Taehyung, “and if it feels right, you can join in. There are no expectations and no rules, only to respect the process and don’t disrupt Tae’s petspace. Got it?”

Jungkook swallows as Jimin chooses that point to lift his steeled gaze, brows high as he waits for Jungkook to agree. “Got it,” the youngest confirms. He gets comfy, tucking his feet under him and leaning up against the pillows.

“Such a lucky boy,” the dom begins with his voice like melted sugar. “Dogs aren’t meant to be up on the furniture. But you’ve been good lately, so I thought I’d treat you.”

Taehyung’s eyes flutter closed. He shuffles slightly, stretching one leg out until his ankle dangles off the edge of the mattress, but doesn’t audibly respond.

Jimin chuckles fondly through his nose, hand running down to rub up and down Taehyung’s clothed tummy, which is now facing upwards. “Oh, pup,” he coos, “you must be tired after the big walk. How about we rest for a bit, and we can play later?” Instead of waiting for a response, the dom just gasps like he’s forgotten something important. “Oh! Your collar! I must’ve taken it off when I took off the leash. Never mind; Jungkook, dear, could you get me the brush and collar out of the bedside table? Bottom drawer.”

It feels like the very particles in the air shift when Jungkook is ripped away from the observer role and into an active participant. He swallows away the dryness in his throat to little avail and nods, fumbling with the drawer handle and pulling out a barely-used hairbrush and velvet dog collar. “These?” he asks redundantly, nerves settling when Jimin gives him a pleased smile and holds out his hand.

“Alright, little puppy,” Jimin announces, his voice lilting easily back into the candyfloss tone that all owners used with their pets. “Let’s give you a brush before we put your collar back on. I don’t want your coat getting matted.”

Taehyung gives a small, throaty hum and lifts himself laboriously up onto his elbows, tipping his head up to his master. Jimin pats his cheek warmly and calls him a good boy, and Jungkook gets a front row seat to the beautiful sight of a sleepy, lusty Kim Taehyung going pink in the face, a shy smile twitching his lip.

‘Brushing his coat’ is just brushing his hair, but even Jungkook can see that the technique is slightly different. Jimin does it slowly, methodically, line by line from the front to the back, then reaching around to the nape of his neck to give it a good brushing there - Taehyung all but shivers at each swoop of the brush - even folding down each ear when he goes past. Watching it is nothing short of mesmerising, and Jungkook feels his spine tingle, wanting to feel it too.

Was it too soon to join? He could always ask for the brush later, he decided. Though even as he reached that conclusion, the thought was slipping out of his mind sand through fingers, hazier and hazier the more he listened to Jimin’s lull tone and watched his patient movements.

“There we go,” the dom whispers, passing the brush over one last time to settle all the curls in their rightful place, “much better now. Chin up, pup; time for your collar.”

Taehyung’s chin lifts the minutest of degrees. Jimin waits for a moment, but the brown-haired boy looks almost like he’s falling asleep on the spot, swaying slightly as his elbows prop him up.

“Silly me,” Jimin tuts with a smile, reaching out to manually adjust Taehyung how he wants him. “Doggies can’t understand human words, can they?” Like a proud parent, he turns to Jungkook, grin widening as he sees the state the boy is in. “I am trying to teach Tae-tae some commands. Sit, lie down, wait. Suck. He’s getting better.”

With that, the dom grabs the collar off the duvet and fiddles with the buckle, undoing it so that he can wrap it carefully around Taehyung’s neck. The process reminds Jungkook much of what happened when his parents put a collar on his childhood dog: slipping a finger under the material to test how snug it was, shifting it around until the small dangling pendant was to the front, giving it a little tug to ensure the buckle was on right.

At the gentle tug, Taehyung practically topples, going lax with his face down on Jimin’s thigh and snuggling down, breaths even. Jimin doesn’t comment on it, simply humming in acknowledgement and returning to softly stroking his back and shoulders. But he does glance over to Jungkook again, eyes glinting. “Do you wanna come a little closer, hm?”

At the invitation, Jungkook almost trips himself scooting over, wrapping his arms around one of Jimin’s and holding it to his chest. Seeing the tender moment shared between Taehyung and Jimin had made him feel positively touch-starved, desperate to feel some of that sweet attention.

Jimin’s eyes widen in bemusement before twisting his hand in Jungkook’s grip and giving his stomach a little scratch. “Goodness me, little energizer bunny, huh?”

Jungkook whines, recognising that higher-pitched voice. He was being talked to like a pet, and the thought made his insides hot. He presses his face against Jimin’s shoulder, feeling the heat on his skin there too.

“No need to get all shy on me now, bun,” Jimin teases. “I’ve already seen that little friend in your pants. Well, I suppose he’s not that little.”

Jungkook tightens his arms around Jimin’s one, wanting to rock his hips up to feel some friction. He just squirms instead, hoping his need is answered. “Jimin-hyung.”

Jimin sucks in a breath. “Can this bunny speak, hm?”

Jungkook blinks, the furnace inside him cooling for a moment. “Am I not… supposed to?”

“I’m not telling you off, I’m asking,” Jimin explains softly, cocking his head down at the potentially-sleeping Taehyung in his lap. “Tae-tae likes to be non-verbal. It’s just preference. Would you rather keep speaking?”

After a moment of thought, Jungkook nods, then props his chin up, sending Jimin his best puppy eyes. “Minnie, I need you,” he pleads in a small voice, writhing against him again.

Jungkook’s fingers curl when Jimin’s hand dips lower suddenly, grasping his length from over the fabric of his sleep shorts. The pleasure is like a bolt that shocks his whole body, and when Jimin strokes him once, the texture of the fabric increasing the friction, the guttural sound that falls from his lips is more animal than human.

Jimin just smiles placidly, patting the throbbing heat once. “Does it hurt, bun? Want me to make it go away?”

“Y-yeah.” Jungkook’s breath is shallow with excitement. This feels like new territory, relying fully on Jimin to relieve the ache, too helpless, too stupid to do anything about it himself, just a dumb bunny with a generous owner.

“You’re drooling, bun,” Jimin points out, voice raspy with arousal. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Jungkook feels fingers at the elastic band of his shorts before Jimin withdraws. He whines, a pout threatening to form, but the dom just runs his fingers and palm over Jungkook’s mouth and chin. Then, when his hand delves in and grips Jungkook, he’s slick with Jungkook’s own drool, the slide wet and hot and electric.

He moans, but saliva won’t stop gathering in the hollows of his mouth. It’s like it’s impossible to close it at all, every firm, purposeful stroke making it harder to do that basic function.

“Noisy boy,” Jimin scolds, though there’s no venom to his tone. “You might wake the puppy up, bun.”

With a strangled groan, Jungkook’s head flops down, his teeth banging against Jimin’s shoulder. A thought floats across his dazed mind, of pressing his teeth into skin, lovebites to colour the bronze.

But his teeth don’t sink into flesh. Fabric fills his mouth. Jimin’s shirt. His teeth don’t stop, though. On the contrary, he chews on the cotton, letting it muffle the sounds he can’t help but make.

“Oh, good boy,” Jimin praises warmly, his hand speeding up mercilessly to pitch Jungkook over the edge. There’s no foreplay, no kisses or teasing touches. His hard cock is a problem that his master is kind enough to solve, that Minnie-hyung is making go away, and he won’t stop until his bunny has finally-

When Jungkook comes, his whole body feels it like an earthquake. Every muscle jerks, pulses so that his toes curl and his core trembles, the drool soaking the fabric of Jimin’s shirt now until he feels it run down his own neck, blubbering through the waves of it.

Jimin slows down after the first burst of cum, but doesn’t stop, only tightening his grip like he’s milking every last drop out.

Once the tides of pleasure have dipped back down again, Jungkook goes boneless, whimpering until the hand finally leaves his softening, oversensitive cock.

He’s panting, all of his body weight on Jimin to stay upright, and it takes a few moments for his senses to properly return to him, his heart still beating erratically in his chest. “Oh, fuck.”

Jimin giggles elfishly, before reaching up to tap on Jungkook’s bottom lip with wet fingers. “You made such a mess, little bunny. Clean it up, now.”

Jungkook welcomes the digits, blinking blearily as the bitter tang of his own cum fills his mouth. He sucks Jimin’s fingers clean two at a time, swirling his tongue between them dutifully. It isn’t until he’s done and Jimin is praising him that he restores enough energy to sit up again.

Across from him, Jimin peels the soaking wet sleeve of his shirt off his shoulder, laughing softly in good humour even as his brows furrow at the weird feeling. Before Jungkook can offer up an apology, Jimin is stripping it off entirely, chucking it away and rubbing at his now-bared chest. “Much better,” he muses to himself. After a moment of letting Jungkook clear his head, Jimin turns to him, his dry hand returning to lazily card through Taehyung’s curls. “How was it, Jungkook?”

“Uh,” Jungkook replies eloquently, feeling the way his cock still throbs every few seconds in aftershocks. “Uh.”

“That’s what I thought,” Jimin states proudly, before sending Jungkook a serious gaze. “We’ll talk later, yeah? When your dick isn’t hanging out.”

Jungkook flushes, scrambles to tuck himself away, and the movement jostles the bed enough that Taehyung groans, craning his neck up with bleary eyes and rumpled hair.

The two sitting on the bed go silent. Jimin cocks his head to the side and cups Taehyung’s cheek. “Were you- Tae-tae, did you just have a nap in the middle of the scene?”

Taehyung beams sleepily, eyes still lidded. “Mm.”

“Tae! Are you out of petspace now?”

“Think so.” With a dramatically loud cry, Taehyung reaches an arm up into a deep, arching stretch, rubbing at his eyes once he’s done. “Mm, yeah, definitely. My foot has kinda gone dead too.”

As Taehyung sits up to rub at his foot, pressing his thumbs into the muscle, Jimin’s shoulders sink with a deep pout. “Tae-tae,” he whines again, “you know I like playing with puppy.”

“Sorry,” Taehyung replies easily, though it doesn’t sound like he is in the slightest, “I guess I just wanted to destress more than anything. I didn’t sleep so well last night.”

Jimin’s face softens, his complaints dissolved at Taehyung’s words. Without a verbal reply, he just reaches out, hooks his finger on the neckline of Taehyung’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss, humming into it slightly.

The movements, the touches are so natural and intimate that Jungkook feels like he’s intruding. It only lasts a moment before they break apart to go shower, but it’s enough time to sear the sight behind Jungkook’s eyelids. Maybe he’d been allowed to join them in their scenes, even cuddle with them, but he wasn’t a part of that bond that tied Jimin and Taehyung so strongly together. The thought sinks in his stomach, and he decides to skip the shower, getting dressed instead for a long workout downstairs.

--

When you knock on his door, Yoongi is at his desk, a pair of black-framed reading glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He glances up, an eyebrow lifting in mild surprise.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You muffle a smile at his domestic getup - a grey t-shirt hangs off, far too big for him but outlining his chest and strong shoulders nonetheless, and his long black sweatpants all but cover his bare feet, toes tapping the carpet unconsciously as he waits for your reply. “I’ve been informed that today is your day.”

“Ah, checking in to the Fuck Hotel, I see,” he quips casually, slipping his glasses of and shutting the lid of the laptop he was working on. “We do have one vacancy.”

“Is that so?” you say, unable to stop your grin as he stands up from his office chair and rolls his head back like an athlete warming up.

“Comes with a continental breakfast,” he assures, before ducking his head with a sheepish chuckle. “God, hyung is becoming a bad influence on my sense of humour.” With slightly pink cheeks, he stretches out a hand towards you, before jerking it back and freezing, fingers curled and tensed. “Wait. Shit.”

You frown, glancing down at yourself, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. “What is it?”

“Hm. I just remembered my prompt, is all.” He takes a step back with a thoughtful furrow of his brows, clenching his hands into fists and putting them behind himself. “Dammit, I was meant to think of a game plan but I got distracted sorting out- uh- client emails.”

“Was this a bad time?” you ask with a light laugh, even as you cast a guilty glance towards the laptop. A month in and he was still doing work?

“No! No, it’s fine, it’s just…” Wincing, Yoongi scratches at the back of his neck and takes another step back, gesturing down at himself, and at the messy work desk. “I’m not in sexy mode yet. I look like a stay-at-home dad trying to work out how to order groceries online while my toddler is finally having her 2pm nap.”

You pause before an incredulous laugh bubbles out of your throat. “Okay, first of all, I think stay-at-home dads are very sexy, and I happen to think that you are very sexy. Secondly, ‘her?’ Why was that whole analogy so specific?”

Yoongi huffs defensively, petulantly throwing himself down to sit on the bed with his legs splayed wide. “I used to have a life plan, okay? But that’s not relevant now. The point is, I haven’t worked out how to do a good scene. I don’t want to it to be disappointing. Or, god forbid, boring.”

Your frown just deepens. “It doesn’t need to be an elaborate setup, Yoongi. Just fuck me. Touch me, at least. I can’t believe we’re still both wearing all our clothes when I’ve been very explicit about my intentions.”

You don’t miss the wince that flutters across his face. “That’s kinda the issue. Touching you, I mean.”

“You don’t wanna touch me?”

“I-” Yoongi all but stomps his foot, teeth clenching in frustration. “Of course I fucking want to, but I have to stick to my prompt, Y/n.”

Your mouth drops open. “So your prompt is that we can’t even touch each other? Doesn’t exactly sound very appealing for a porn show.”

He clicks his tongue. “You can still touch me,” he corrects with a dry gaze.

Unconvinced, you narrow your eyes. “Isn’t that convenient?” you question rhetorically. “Gonna make me do all the work this week because you haven’t organised it in your planner yet, Doctor Min?”

He glares at your teasing tone. “Excuse me for trying to play the game properly.” You swallow as his eyes run down your body heavily, pink tongue darting out to wet his lips. “If I could touch you, trust me, I’d have you dripping by now.”

Your thighs tighten, but you force them not to move. The last thing you want him to know is that you’re just about dripping already. “Sounds to me like you’re just lazy.” He doesn’t react, watching you make up your mind. You suck in a breath to hype yourself. “If I walk away right now, you’ll get nothing. Not only will you lose your prompt, but you’ll be stuck with blue balls. But if you give in and fuck me already, then you’ll only lose the prompt.”

“Who says I’ll even have blue balls? I’m perfectly comfortable,” he fires back immediately, tipping his head to the side cockily.

“Oh, please,” you drawl, letting your eyes fall to the sizeable bulge beneath his sweatpants, “you aren’t that big soft. Don’t kid yourself. So do you wanna get off, or not?”

His gaze hardens to stone, jaw flexing. “I’m surprised you think I need you for that. Aside from the fact that there are six other people in this house, I brought a fleshlight from home for a reason.”

Now that is something you hadn’t expected him to say. You freeze from your spot in the doorway, feeling heat pulse between your legs. Your spark of resistance is quickly fading, overtaken by need, so you don’t hesitate in firing back while you can. “If you think your fleshlight is better than me, then that’s your loss. Enjoy the bunkbeds; I’m off to do what you’re too cowardly to.”

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he snips, one of his hands sneaking under his shirt to rub his lower abdomen, fingers slipping below the hem of his sweats. “Shut the door on your way out.”

Feeling like you’ve lost the argument (and a little too horny to care) you have your final say by slamming it, thumping your feet with every step down the hall to your room.

Once inside, it takes mere seconds to throw yourself onto your bed back-first and shove your hand down your pants. But then, before you even dip into your wetness, a thought strikes you.

Pulling your hand out and making your way to your desk, you use your other hand to clumsily type in your password, and open a browser. It doesn’t take long to navigate to the page with all the paid streams for your own show, and with a slight flush you select Yoongi’s bedroom, impatiently punching in your credit card details.

After an agonising wait, the payment is processed and you’re brought to a private livestreaming site, a single window open in front of you.

The angle itself is strange, making Yoongi’s room look larger than it was, but you’re surprised at just how high quality the video and sound is once you bring it to full screen and slip your headphones in your ears. Yoongi is hunched over his nightstand, and you can actually hear the wooden slide faintly in the background as he opens and closes a drawer, returning to his office chair with a seemingly-transparent fleshlight and a bottle of lube.

Something about watching him through a camera in the corner of his room feels so wrong, especially as he palms impatiently at the tent in his pants, uncapping the lube and pouring a generous amount into the opening of the toy. You’d never been much of a voyeur - or, at least, so you thought - but you couldn’t take your eyes off him, blinding slipping your hands down your pants but over your underwear, simply pressing down on your clit to ease some of the crying need.

Oddly, the lube pours down and begins to drip out the other side, creating a dark patch on his clothed thigh. The audio picks up Yoongi cursing, and there’s no further preamble before he’s using one hand to hook down his sweatpants and kick them off to pool on the floor. The motion causes his cock to jerk up onto his stomach, leaving a smear of precum on his grey shirt, visible only by a few pixels of darker grey.

He scoots a little down the seat of the chair and hitches a leg up over one of the arms, eyes slipping closed as the hand not holding the dripping fleshlight grips his own cock, thumb pressing at the head.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans lowly, the sound running through your headphones and straight down between your legs. His brows are furrowed like it’s almost paining him, but he hovers the opening of the fleshlight over his tip as if he’s trying to hold back.

Slowly, he lowers the toy down one inch at a time, until the lube is drooling over his cock. Finally, the transparent toy slips down over his cock and his hips jump off the chair, his knuckles white on the arm of the chair and the fleshlight as he growls and lifts it back off again.

The sight of him intentionally teasing himself is too erotic for you to stay unmoving, and you find yourself burning up, losing the headphones for a moment to shuffle out of your own clothes. You hurry as much as you can, grimacing at your sopping panties, but by the time you’re back in your chair with nothing but a bra and tuning back into the stream, Yoongi’s not even focused on his toy anymore.

It sits propped up on his thigh, with two of his fingers lazily, almost absentmindedly thrusting deeply inside of it to keep it steady as the rest of him swivels in his chair to open his laptop again.

You frown and squint at the tiny screen on the stream. Rows of fuzzy squares stack up, and while you can’t be certain the phallic shapes of some of the miniscule images inside them make you think he was on a sex toy website.

He quickly opens a new tab, however, and your heart begins to beat nervously as a familiar page comes up. One you’d been on just earlier.

With bated breath you wait, hands grasping at the meat of your thighs and clothed breast to hold off on touching between your legs just yet. Yoongi navigates the Bangasm page, going through the same payment process you did.

It isn’t until you’re met with a miniature version of your own room on his screen that you realise what’s happened. And it’s when Yoongi squints and leans in closer, before turning to face the camera directly with a bewildered look, that you know you’ve been caught.

Frozen, you watch the on-screen, Yoongi look back and forth twice, before slowly scooting his chair back on an angle to the table, so that the laptop is in eyeshot even as his body is facing the camera fully.

Your mouth is dry, but the fleshlight he picks up again is wet, so wet that his fingers glisten, almost slipping off the toy entirely. He holds it tightly, transferring it to his dominant hand and teasing the top over his tip, biting hard on his lip.

The squeeze you have on your thigh is almost painful as your core burns, but you’re too stunned still to move, watching him dance the opening of the fleshlight over his cock, never dipping it inside.

With a twitching grin and lusty eyes, he glances towards the laptop. Your whole body feels hot as you glance over your shoulder to the camera in your room, before looking back at the screen. He’s not moving, chest visibly heaving even as he stares patiently at the computer screen.

He’s… waiting for you.

With one strangled breath, you tilt your chair away from the desk, adjusting your own laptop in a similar setup to him. Eyes locked on the stream, terrified you’ll miss a single moment of him indulging himself, you let your fingers uncurl from your inner thigh and trail them down, wasting no time in automatically locating your clit, massaging around the small bud.

Pleasure flows through you like hot water, down to your toes. After holding out for so long, after being so aroused for so long, the simplest touch has your knees weak and your head lolled back against the headrest.

On screen, Yoongi’s grin widens, and he rewards you by lowering the fleshlight, the clear silicone making way for the tip of his cock. He doesn’t stop there like last time, though; instead, he slowly but surely plunges it all the way down until it’s flush with his pelvis. Your eyes fly open when the flushed head pops out the other side, and Yoongi clearly enjoys it too judging by the way he curses and grips it tight, practically panting.

Without really intending, your fingers dip down and slip inside, two already. You barely feel a stretch with how wet you are. Although the feeling of something inside you is nice, you know your fingers just aren’t enough, especially with the angle of you slumped back in your chair.

So, you chance one look back at the screen - Yoongi is using the tip of one finger to spread his precum around the glossed tip of his cock, but his eyes are firmly locked onto you - and walk on shaky legs to your closet, where an unassuming (and so far unused) black silk bag lies amongst your shoes.

The amount of time it takes for you to duck into the bathroom and quickly wash the silicone vibrator you have with soapy water feels like an eternity, and by the time you hurry back it isn’t the toy that’s vibrating.

Frowning, you hesitantly answer the call that’s coming through on your phone from a familiar contact.

Yoongi’s voice immediately fills the room as the pixelated version on the screen rests his phone on the side of his desk, not jerking but twisting the fleshlight in slow arcs around his cock. “Couldn’t get enough of me, hm?”

“Says the one calling me,” you offer back lightly, switching onto speaker mode so that you can settle back in your chair, “enjoying the view?”

“A little too uneventful for me yet, sweetheart,” he teases, and his breathy groan is timed with the Yoongi on the stream lifting the fleshlight up a little and plunging it down again. “How about you put that toy in your pretty little pussy for me. For us.”

You feel your core pulse at the reminder that it wasn’t just Yoongi on the stream. Any number of anonymous strangers could be tuned in right now, seeing you with your legs spread.

The only way to cope is to lean into it instead of shying away. You slide the black silicone toy through your folds to slick it up, sighing with every light pass over your clit. Once it’s as wet as you are, you press the slightly bulbous tip down until it slips inside you, immediately shivering at the feeling.

The toy is small enough that you don’t need any special prep, yet big enough that it was satisfying, and curved just right. It had been your old reliable long before coming on the show, and there’s something strangely familiar and comforting about feeling it fill you out as you push it in deeper.

“Fuck, there we go,” Yoongi praises, and you hear the wet smacking noise of him snapping his hips up into the toy. “I may not be able to touch you, but you’ll still call my name when you cum for me.”

Your toes curl, and you’re no longer able to focus on the stream, letting your eyes fall shut and your ears tune in to his voice alone as you work the toy in and out of you.

He doesn’t waste any time in joining you, and the resulting sounds that fill your room are obscene, him making no effort to muffle the gravelled curses and moans, nor the wet thwack of silicone that gives away his movements.

The noise is somehow even more thrilling than the sight, and the feeling of his eyes on you encourages you to speed your hand up, even reaching down to desperately rub at your clit with the flat of your fingers, shivering at the wave of pleasure that wracks through your body.

It’s not long before you hear Yoongi’s voice turn guttural and the pace of the flesh light pick up frantically.

You wrench your eyes open and gaze blearily at the computer screen just in time to watch the stream of white that spills up through the back end of the fleshlight and over Yoongi’s knuckles. As hot as the image is, you whine at being made to watch this through the pixels instead of in real life, and the thought of being right fucking across from him as he fell apart is enough to make you seize up in your chair, orgasm draining you thoroughly, with not enough force to squirt but dripping on the seat nonetheless.

You take the toy out once pleasure turns to the sharp tweak of oversensitivity and pant, fighting to catch your breath as your feet feel positively numb.

Coming down from your high, you almost forget the running phone call until you hear his voice come through the speaker again. “Have a shower and then come back down to my room. You’re sleeping with me tonight.”

The beeping tone leaves you alone in your room, and you loll your head back over the edge of the chair with an exhausted moan, not without a grin playing on your lips. You wouldn’t protest to that.

[bump1nthen1ght]

I’m Still Hurting (F!Reader/M!Orc)

Pairings: Fem!Reader/Male!Orc

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Angst

Warnings: (Almost) Infidelity

Word Count: 3376 words

Summary: Your boyfriend does something he’d never thought he’d do, and you’re left to try and pick up the pieces.

Request: can I make a request? About an angst story between an m!orc and f!human. I like the idea of like maybe the orc sorta misses being with other orc women or like she can't fulfill his needs and she hears this. I like the idea of almost infidelity

A/N: Surprise bitches! I’m alive! And back with some delicious angst for y’all!! I really loved doing this request, as I don’t often write full on angst. I am also working on a fluffy request  at the moment, if some of you would like some nice comfort after this haha. Hope y’all enjoy!

Honey ❤️: Babe

Honey ❤️: Babe please answer the phone I need to talk to you

Honey ❤️: I know you’re angry, you should be angry, but please talk to me

Honey ❤️: Baby please

“____? Is that my phone?” Brynn yells from the kitchen, already mixing another cocktail for you to down. Her bright red horns peek over the living room divider, bouncing back as she grabs the alcohol from the fridge. Still looking at your bright screen, you don’t even have the energy to respond.

“____?” You throw your phone away as she peaks her head over, giving her a shameful look. Brynn furrows her brow, pulling away from the kitchen island and putting one hand on her hip. “Was that him?” With your eyes darting back and forth from the pillow you shoved your phone under and Brynn’s face, you nod.

“Y-yeah, it was him.”

Brynn sighs, fiddling with her hands.

“Listen, I don’t want to tell you what to do, especially not tonight, but I just think-”

“No, no, it’s alright. You’re right, you’re right.” A jolt hits you as your phone vibrates, the vibrations rumbling through the fabric and stabbing right into your stomach. You force yourself to look away, fiddling with your fingers. Brynn shoots you a pitiful look, you’re sure of it, even as your efuse to meet her gaze. “I shouldn’t talk to him tonight. Not right now, not when I’m like….this.” A slow, tired breath escapes you. “I’ll make him wait, just like he did.”

The coach cushion bends as Brynn sits next to you, rubbing your shoulder as she leans in for a side each. You accept it, your body like a deadweight as you let yourself go slack in her arms.

“Do you want anything? Chocolate, maybe a movie? I’ve got some leftover cheesecake?”

“A movie sounds nice.” You murmur, nodding against her chest. Brynn hums, her tail coming up and massaging your lower back as she kisses you on the forward.

“Of course, your choice. Do you want me to get your drink?”

You nod once more, letting Brynn untangle herself from the hug and laying back on the couch, grabbing the comfiest blanket and the remote. You quickly flick through you and Brynn’s ‘most watched’ section on Netflix. You need something new tonight, something to get your mind off.

All your regular comfort movies are romances, after all.

By the time Brynn comes back, a rum and coke and a carton of ice cream in hand, you’re already snuggled into a blanket burrito. She hands you a spoon and the glass, which you wordlessly accept. She sits down and throws a hand over your shoulder, trying her best to massage the left over tension in your neck. You sink into the feeling, pressing on your movie of choice.

“Mad Max: Fury Road, huh? I’ve heard this movie’s great.”

“Yeah,” you whisper, “It is.”

And chocked full of shitty men getting what they deserve.

As the opening title plays, the deep voice of Tom Hardy kicking the movie off, you snuggle into Brynn’s side. Your phone buzzes again, but it’s drowned out by screaming men and loud engines. Just how you like it.

Honey ❤️: Could you call me in the morning?

Honey ❤️: I’ll leave you alone for the night, I’m sorry

Honey ❤️: I love you

--------

Waruck sighs, his fingers shaking as another small ‘message delivered’ shows up on his screen. No response, just like the last 15 texts. He finds himself typing out another anyway.

I love you so fucking much

It reads, but is quickly deleted. Waruck clicks off his phone, but it stays in his hand, taunting him. The black mirror shows a sad, pathetic boyfriend, getting the silent treatment.

He falls back onto his bed, exhausted from a day of doing nothing. Nothing but worrying and feeling guilty, with the occasional flicking through TV channels and texting his girlfriend.

It’s getting late, his bedside clock cutting through the dark of his room to remind him he’s been up for almost 16 hours now. Waruck slides a hand through his hair and gets up. He’s going to have to camp out in front of the TV, because he knows he won’t be able to sleep tonight.

Not after what he did.

--------

He had gone out with friends. Friends from highschool who he still occasionally chatted with, friends he didn’t even really like anymore. But the past two weeks had him feeling oddly...nostalgic, like something was out of place. So when his buddy Simon had invited him to the bar, he had eagerly accepted.

He remembers grabbing his coat, you sending him a text to have fun, and him not replying. He didn’t know why he didn’t respond, he still doesn’t. The two of you had been going strong for almost 8 months now, with only the occasional hiccup that most couples have. So why didn’t he respond? What made him casually throw your sweet remark to the side like that?

Waruck shakes his head, trying to focus on the movie in front of him. Now isn’t the time to get existential over tiny shit like that, not with how the rest of the night went.

When he met up with the group, Waruck immediately knew that tonight was going to be different. His current group of friends are quite different, less rowdy, than his old posse. At only 10 PM, three of the guys we’re already halfway drunk, saving a spot in line from him outside the noisy bar. The electronic music that thrummed through the concrete and out onto the street reminded him of how much time has passed, how different his usual party-scene is now, and he revels in that feeling of former good-times.

Simon greets him with a hug, the guys shouting his name as he joins them. From the corner of his eye, he sees a gaggle of girls giggling.

And that's where it started.

An orc woman, dressed in a beautiful black dress, winks as she passes him at the bar. Simon nudges his side as Waruck takes a drink.

“Dude, that chick is totally sending you the look”

Waruck furrows his brow, stirring his drink.

“What’s ‘the look’?” He says, taking another sip of his scotch.

Simon rolls his eyes. “The ‘come hit on me’ look dude! That’s the sign you need to go for it!”

“I have a girlfriend, Simon.”

Simon scoffs, throwing his hand out dramatically. “What, that human chick?”

Waruck has half of mind to set down his drink and ask Simon what he means with that sarcastic tone of voice. It pisses him off, but he says nothing, just rolls his eyes.

“No offense, bro, she looks cute and all. But is she really worth missing out on some great ass?”

Waruck grimaces and shoots Simon a dirty look. “Jesus, Simon, are you serious?”

“I’m serious! When was the last time you had fun, y’know? Everyone knows an orc chick can throw down, wild-style.” Simon nudges him in his side, playfully, but it only serves to make Waruck more annoyed. “C’mon, you seriously don’t miss it?”

Waruck should tell him a firm ‘No’, finish his drink, and leave. He should call a cab and go home, call you and rant about his gross misogynistic friend from high school.

But he doesn’t.

The part of him, the part of him that feels slightly off, wonders if this is it. It had been a long time since he had been with another orc. You were a great girlfriend, but so different from in so many ways. Is that it?

Maybe relieving the old days will satisfy whatever longing he has, and then it will leave forever. Would that be so bad, to let loose for one night?

Waruck feels a tap on his shoulder, and turns to see the orc girl from earlier; The one who sent him ‘the look’.

“Hey handsome, can I buy you a drink?”

Between the boosted bass of the music and the orc woman pressing up against him, Waruck doesn’t notice Simon slip away, giving him a pat on the back.

Leave, say no, tell her she’s got the wrong guy, you fucking idiot. His consciousness yells.

“U-uh, sure.” He stutters.

She introduces herself as Naz and says she noticed him the minute he walked in.

“Hard not to notice the best-dressed guy in the room.” She flirts, pressing herself closer and up against him.

He has a thousand little moments like that, to say something; To pull back and apologize, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he slips into a corner booth with her, purposely ignoring the texts you send to check up on him. You had remembered that he wasn’t sure how much fun this night would be, and routinely checked in if he needed a convenient excuse to leave early. You’re sweet like that.

Naz is sweet too. She's a great conversationalist, with a good head on her shoulders and an interesting career in zoology. Waruck could see the two of you being good friends.

Is that why she seems so alluring? Because she’s so similar to you? Waruck’s mind does mental gymnastics to try and justify his hesitance, his compliance in believing that maybe she has something different after all, even though he knows that isn’t true.

The two of them talk for a solid hour and a half, Naz slowly inching herself closer and putting a hand on his knee. His body screams in resistance, his stomach tying up into knots, but he doesn’t push her away.

“So, I’ve got a room not too far from here. What do you say we go make ourselves a bit more comfortable?”

This is his final chance to find an excuse and say goodnight. To run back home and forget this ever happened. But the words are caught in his throat and he’s further silenced by the nearby whooping of his asshole friends.

“Yeah, Waruck! Get some!”

Naz chuckles and mistakenly reads his seething anger at himself with embarrassment for his friends. She leans in, grabbing his jaw, and whispers.

“Let's give them a show, huh?” Then, she kisses him.

The noises of the bar, his friends, and Naz all drown away as her lips mold into his. Waruck’s body goes rigid, terrified as time seems to freeze as he kisses someone who is not his girlfriend.

But all of that stops when your ringtone begins to blast in his pocket. It should be near silent when compared to the pounding bar music, but that familiar jingle seems to cut deep into his skin and skewer his heart. Waruck pulls away with a quick jerk, Naz almost falling over as he pushes himself into his seat and away from her body-heat. Every nerve is a light with tension as he quickly pulls out his phone.

There on the screen is a picture of you, your contact name, “Sweetie❤️”, shining through the dimmed light of that bar. Waruck breathes heavily, feeling like he’s just run an emotional marathon, stuck in his own head until Naz slides away from him.

“Wait, hold on, do you have a girlfriend?”

Waruck looks at her, then looks at his still-ringing phone, then back to Naz. He nods.

Naz's face curls up into obvious disgust, quickly directing her body to be as far away from him as possible. “Fucking hell, dude. What the fuck?” She grabs her handbag and stomps out of the booth, not before throwing her drink in his face and telling him to go to hell.

He almost watches her move across the bar, most likely to go complain to her friends about the asshole she just wasted the last 2 hours chatting up, but all he can focus on is your picture on his phone.

--------

Waruck practically runs out of the bar, his whole body covered in sweat and his mind racing a mile a minute.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He felt like a 15 year old, goaded into another shitty prank just because he wanted to look cool in front of his friends, buying into their weird bullshit about humans. Was he seriously going to throw away your wonderful relationship over one night, over one urge?

Naz had been strikingly beautiful, in all the ways he was taught an orc like himself should look for. She could probably get any guy in that club tonight, but she wasn’t you. You’re different, but in so many cool, inconsequential, uniquely-you ways.

Waruck doesn’t know how long he walks before he sits down outside a cafe, trying to collect his racing emotions. He feels gross, sticky with the kind of sweat you only get after too much alcohol and too many people. The screen of his phone seems to reflect every smudge and finger-print as he swipes it to unlock it, finally getting the courage to read your text messages.

They start off normal, spread out over several hours. The occasional “How are the guys?” and “Hope you are having fun! Just let me know when you get home safe.” before dropping off into nothing. Right up until 20 minutes ago, where you send a short and curt text that has his heart dropping to his stomach.

Sweetie❤️: Can you call me right now?

Sweetie❤️: Waruck, I need to talk to you

Sweetie❤️: Are you still at the bar?

After that is a notification of your missed call from earlier and Waruck can’t help but feel  guilt stir in his gut.

It could be nothing, something unrelated to what he almost did tonight. But the notification he gets from his Instagram says otherwise. It says a mutual of his tagged him in a photo 30 minutes ago.

Waruck feels like vomiting when he opens up Simon’s story and sees a shaky picture of Naz, draped over him in the corner booth, with him looking all too happy to have her there. The caption reads

“At least someone’s getting lucky tonight 🤣🤣 #BoysNight20XX”

But what comes next is even worse; An even blurrier photo of Naz kissing him, both of their eyes closed as she almost sits in his lap.

Waruck can’t even look at the caption, quickly exiting out of the app and calling you.

He needs to explain himself.

But what will he say?

The phone rings, rings, rings….

Waruck waits with bated breath, thinking you’re going to let it go to voicemail, but you answer. There is no cheerful “Hi Babe” or even a tired and drawn-out “Hey.” Instead all Waruck hears is a shaky sigh, waiting for an explanation.

The words stay caught in Warucks throat, trying to find a way to maneuver and swing around to a solid excuse, a lie he hopes you won’t catch.

But he can’t, he can’t. Not to you.

So you make it easy for him, like you always do, and start the conversation off instead.

“Were you flirting with that girl?”

Waruck’s mind doesn’t give him a choice, the truth already spilling out like a tidal wave.

“Yes.”

Waruck hears you suck in a breath, before you shakily ask once more,

“Did you kiss her? Did you kiss her back?”

“Yes.”

There's 15 seconds of brutal silence as Waruck sits with his confession. In the moment, Waruck feels like he can hear your pounding heartbeat through the receiver.

You hang up.

---------

You hate the weather outside for two reasons.

One: You had far too much rum last night to enjoy any amount of sunlight. And,

Two: On a terrible morning like this one, it feels unfair that there aren't any dramatic thunder storms.

The bell rings on the cafe door as you walk in, causing you to wince as you pull down your sunglasses.

Thank god for the low lighting of these cafes.

You rub your brow, eyes scanning the menu above the bar. Some caffeine should do you good, at least with your headache.

But when you spot him, tucked away at a table, tapping his foot, all that aching pain seems to fall to your subconscious. Before you can meet eyes, you look away, forcing yourself to re-read the menu and blink away your tears.

You face the inevitable when you put in your order, turning to walk towards Waruck. He’s locked his gaze into the wood grain of the table, his large body hunched up and small, like he wants to sink into the shadows. He looks like shit, with large bags under his eyes and a nervous tension in his face.

He startles when you pull out a chair, sitting down across from him, but quickly curls back into his ball of shame. He looks so guilty, a small part of you wants to comfort him and tell him it’ll be alright.

You punch away that part of you with a baseball bat.

“Why did you flirt with her?”

Waruck says nothing. He looks at you with his tired eyes, big and racked with guilt.

I don’t know. They whisper.

Your fingers dig into your jeans, anger boiling up and through your nerves.

That’s not a good enough answer.

“Were you,” You suck in a breath, trying to control your volume, “Were you going to sleep with her? If I hadn’t called you, would you have-”

“No!” Waruck nearly shouts, shaking the table as his knees bang against the bottom, but he recoils once he sees the way you flinch. “No, I wasn’t going to.”

Those pesky tears press against your eyelids once more. You can feel your nails digging indents into your thighs.

“I don’t know if  I can believe that.” You whisper, failing to catch the crack in your voice.

Waruck’s brow furrows as he nervously chews his bottom lip. He tries to meet your gaze, but you seem to look right through him.

“I know.” Waruck sighs, bringing his hand up to rub the back of his neck.

There's a tenuous silence; Waruck tries to find the words to fix things  while you focus on the details of the cafe walls, examining every nook and cranny as you try not to sob.

“I-I understand if you don’t trust me. I understand if you hate me, or you want to break up. But please, please know that I love you, and that I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve been kicking myself over flirting with that girl because I love you so fucking much. I-”

You hold up your hand, stopping Waruck in his tracks. He realizes how loud he’s been talking and that people are beginning to stare. He huddles back into his corner, tucking his hands into his lap. You let out a long breath. Waruck takes the risk and looks up.

When his eyes finally meet yours, he realizes just how sad you look. A treacherous tear has begun falling down your cheek, sending a lightning bolt of remorse into Waruck’s chest.

You take in another deep breath, wiping away the tear with the back of your hand. You look at Waruck, exhausted.

“I don’t,”  You falter, but catch yourself, “I don’t want to break up with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready to forgive you yet.”

Waruck nods, fiddling with his fingers.

“Of course, I get it-”

“I’m not done.” Waruck quickly shuts his mouth. “You hurt me, Waruck. Hurt me in a way I don’t think I’ll ever forget. So I need time. Time before I can even see you again without thinking,” You hiccup, but this time you let the wave of emotion hit you, full force.  “Without thinking about that night.”

A lady calls out your order, but neither of you makes a move. You sit in each other's presence, trying to wrap yourselves around the mess of emotions, trying to read the others mind without seeming too obvious.

You both sit here, in the presence of something that's been broken, damaged in a way that’s cut the heart of your chest and slams them on the table. There’s a crack that runs down between you two, inching open more and more with each breath.

But somehow, somehow, you both think you have a chance of fixing it.

[once-upon-a-oneshot]

Game Over

Based On: “When You Sleep” by Mary Lambert

Summary: Frat!Harry only wants you when he’s drunk, and you’ve finally had enough

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1.8K

Here I was for the third time this week pulling up to a frat party in the middle of the night. I didn’t want to be here, but, just like all the other times he had too much to drink, he needed me. Usually it takes a great amount of pushing past drunk underaged college kids to find him at these things. But this time, as soon as I reached the yard of the house, dimly lit by an array of neon party lights, I spotted a mop of curly brown hair, hunched over a bush.

“Yo! Harry dude! I thought we agreed no more puking in our bushes?!” Some frat guy was yelling at him from the porch. Harry’s only response was to flip the guy off and grin while using the bush to hold him up. “Finally! Your baby sitter’s here” The guy half-joked noticing my arrival.

Harry turned around to face me a little too fast, and he stumbled forward nearly falling. I tried my best to support him but there was no chance. I by no means would consider myself “small” or “petite”, but compared to Harry’s 6-foot, broad shouldered stature, he was too large.

“Hey! What’re ya doing hur?” Harry drunkenly slurred semi-regaining his balance.

“Haz, you called me, remember?” Normally I would’ve been embarrassed calling him anything but his name. But I’ve done this enough times to know, in the morning, he won’t remember any of the words exchanged tonight.

It took nearly an hour to get Harry back to my dorm room. Our new personal best. It’s not that I live far from the frat house, it’s more the process of getting Harry here. The trip usually goes something like, helping Harry stumble to the car, pulling over at every traffic light so Harry can throw up, finally making it to his apartment (which is past my own apartment), Harry begging me to help him to his front door, Harry realizing he “forgot” his keys, Harry asking if he can just crash at my place instead, me driving Harry back to my apartment, helping Harry stumble into my dorm.

It took about the third time of this routine being repeated for me to realize the coincidence of Harry forgetting his keys every time he went out, got shit faced, and called me to come pick him up, wasn’t so much a coincidence. And even though it was the same thing every time, I never skipped the step of driving to his apartment, because I knew it meant he’d have to verbally ask me if he could stay with me. And in some sick way, I got off to hearing his lips form those words. It was something so small, but something that meant so much to me. And he knew that. Drunk or not. I knew what the morning would bring, but for the night, I’d listen to Harry’s slow, peaceful breathing as he slept.

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of Harry attempting to tip-toe around, collecting his things before I’d wake up. And just like every other morning, I lay perfectly still, letting silent tears hit the pillow, while I listen to the boy I love try to pretend he was never here.

LATER ON CAMPUS

“Hey (Y/N), what did I miss in class today?” I swiveled around in the library chair to face the person who was speaking to me.

Before even facing him, I recognized the voice as a kid from my Biology class, who also happened to be from my hometown. We weren’t necessarily friends, but we engaged in small talk every once in a while. Although I knew who it was before I turned around, I didn’t expect Harry to be standing there with him.

“Oh, uh, not too much.” I focused as hard as I could on my classmate to keep from looking over at Harry. I could feel his eyes burning into me, but I was too embarrassed to look at him. “I can send them to you if you want.”

“Sick! Can you email them to me right now, so I can print them right quick?” I wanted badly to make up some excuse for why I just had to leave and send the notes later, so I could get far far away from Harry. But when I opened my mouth, “Sure” is all that came out.

The guy sat at the computer across from me, and Harry sat down next to him. I fixed my eyes on the computer screen and tried to steady my shaky hands enough to hurriedly send the notes. All the while Harry continued to stare.

As soon as the notes were sent, I logged off the computer and packed up my things. In order to get out of the library I had to pass Harry and the guy, and it was just my luck that the guy had gotten up to go print. As I passed Harry, he grabbed my wrist stopping me. I finally looked into his green eyes, but he didn’t say anything, he just continued to stare like he had already been doing.

“What?” I asked getting uncomfortable with the intensity he was looking at me with. He just shrugged in response.

Once Harry noticed his friend walking back to the computer, he quickly released my wrist, and turned around, as if nothing had ever happened.

Things have been this way with Harry since I met him. Since the day I became his. He knew I had a crush on him, and it gave him some sort of ego trip. Even though he knew I already wanted him, he wanted to make sure it would stay that way. So, whenever he felt like I wasn’t paying him enough attention, or he thought my yearning for him was slipping away, he’d throw me a bone to keep me begging. Initially I made the mistake of thinking this meant that by some chance, he wanted me the same way, but he proved time and time again (through his actions and his words), this wasn’t the case.

And after months of taking whatever treatment Harry would give me. I finally snapped. It happened one night at a party. I was drinking, and I didn’t know he’d be there. I spent the night avoiding him. I was afraid of what drunk me may say or do once I got around him. When he entered a room, suddenly I had somewhere else to be. When he needed another drink from the kitchen, suddenly I wasn’t thirsty anymore. When he wanted to join on the beer pong table, suddenly I was bored of the game. And Harry noticed.

I was on the second floor of the house on my own, exhausted from dodging Harry all night. I leaned my back against the wall of the hall after the stairs reminded me just how buzzed I really was. I guess Harry spotted me heading up stairs because I heard footsteps on the stairs, before he appeared at the top of them. Without saying anything, Harry glanced over his shoulder, before walking and standing directly in front of me. He put an arm up on either side of my head, trapping me between him and the wall.

“I didn’t know you were gonna be here.” he said too casually for our position. “Are you mad at me or something?” This took me by surprise.

“What?”

“You’ve been ignoring me all night.” Again, his tone was way too casual for the things he was saying. But honestly, that’s always how Harry played it.

“You mean living my life? Enjoying the party? Not worshiping the ground you walk on?” Harry’s only response was a smirk. That’s when I started getting angry. “Look I’m too drunk to even be having this conversation with you right now Haz, so can we ju-“

“What’d you just call me?” Harry questioned raising an eyebrow at me. I froze. I was so drunk and emotional that I had accidentally let it slip. But upon processing the look on Harry’s face as something almost resembling distain, my embarrassment turned to pure anger.

“What do you want from me Harry?!” anger was thick in my voice as I pushed him backwards further from me.

“What are you talki-“

“No. Don’t you dare do that! Don’t act like you’re clueless. Like-like you haven’t been playing games with me since we met!” He said nothing. Instead he just stood staring at me. An emotionless expression painted across that beautiful face.

I wanted to stay angry. I wanted the fire burning inside of me to push me to finally walking away from this toxic man. But seeing that there was truly nothing there, the anger fizzled out to simple exhaustion.

“Look, we both know you know how I feel about you. And we both know you don’t feel the same way. But you play with my head. You flirt with me just long enough to wrap me around your finger. And then silence. Just like I never existed. That is until your hold on me starts unraveling again. It’s just some big twisted game for you. It’s like when you can’t have my attention, you suddenly want it.”

“It’s no-“

“I’m not done. For once in the history of whatever the fuck this thing with us is, it’s my turn to talk, and your turn to just listen. And I want you to listen good, because this is the only time I’m ever going to say.” I waited for some sign from Harry to let me know he was really paying attention.

He nodded so I continued.

“I can’t keep being a pawn in your torturous game Harry. It’s not fair to me. You’re breaking me apart and you don’t even care. The thing that hurts the most Harry,” I fought the tears for as long as I could, but the alcohol made it nearly impossible “is the fact that I know I could make you so happy. I would do everything in my power to give you the world. Hell, I basically already do. But you’re so blinded by “not wanting to be with me” that you don’t even realize how good I am for you. How good I am to you. If you stop telling yourself you’re not allowed to love me, I guarantee I’d make you fall. But if that’s not what you want. If you really, truly don’t even want to give me a chance, I’m done. I’ll have to walk away before you finish draining what little of me, I have left. And if that’s what it comes to, I’m begging you, please just let me go. No more games.”

Harry just stood and, like he so often did, stared. Blank. I felt like I was frozen in that moment and all the air had been sucked from the room. Unfortunately, I could feel myself began to sober up as I stood in anticipation of Harry’s response. I wished like hell I was still drunk, because maybe it would’ve hurt less when Harry finally spoke.

“I’m sorry,” he began backing away back towards the stairs. “I’ll leave you alone.” And with that he spun on his heels and trotted back down to the party.