#needs like 3 coffees to get him going. not a morning dude. )

[zealctry]

actual picture of Hidan in the morning.

[thegnomelord]

This is a convo I had with Embry @embry-garrick about Soft Sub Gaz that I'll probably write a fic ab this after my exam ends. This is just my rambling

CW: Mentions of toxic relationships, Gaz experiencing a healthy relationship, slight NSFW at the end.

You meeting Gaz at a bar. Gaz had been freshly dumped by his ex, met the dude with some chick his ex was cheating on him with at the same party, and is just trying to get drunk. He has his standards so low he just wants to fuck and forget the night and his entire past relationship.

But also imagine being the bouncer who then gets flirted by drunk Gaz, saying how you two should go to his place as your shift is ending. You usually wouldn't fuck around with drunk people like this, but he looks like he needs someone to talk to so you take him back to his place as he's too drunk to get back on his own and you don't want him getting robbed or worse.

And Gaz in his drunken stupor tries to touch you up in the car, but you shoot him down. So Gaz is a bit hurt but still thinks he's gonna score some mindless bliss. So you lead him to the door and Gaz lets you in, thinking it's for sex, but you just sit him down on his bed and get him some water, telling him to offer again when he's sober and you're just there to listen if he needs it.

And Gaz ends up kinda crying about his relationship in his drunken stupor, probably passing out on top of you. Come morning he's waking up with the WORST hangover ever and only when he sees your phone number on a napkin on his bedside table next to a bottle of water and headache medication does he remember the fucking embarrassing night. He just lies in bed wanting it to swallow him whole at the thought of how he acted.

But then he calls you to meet up and apologize for the night. You two meet up at a coffee shop and what starts as a somewhat awkward conversation turns into like, you two spending 3-4 hours there just chatting. Gaz laughing at an unexpected joke and then wondering why his heart is beating so fast and feels like it's in his stomach.

Like it's not the frantic drumming his heart would do when he and his ex would fuck, that was similar to what it felt being in the battlefield. Being with you makes his heart beat in a fast but different way, like a bunch of cicadas are buzzing in his chest.

Him not used to them fancy dates without sex at the end looking at you weirdly when, after a date he prepared probably too long for, you walk him to his door and don't do more but a kiss on the cheek cause you can see how his body subconsciously gets more and more uncomfortable and tense with each step you two take towards the door.

But also, imagine soft sub Gaz getting ready to go back from his leave, feeling very uncomfortable thinking about leaving without telling you (Not to mention fearing getting cheated on while he's off shore) so you two meet up at the same coffee shop and he tells you that he's going back into duty. And his mind is kinda blown when, after another 3-4 hours of just random chatting, you end up driving him to the airport and kiss his forehead goodbye

Gaz accidentally telling the lads about you, and it only takes a few clever questions from Soap before Gaz is just full on gushing about you. But he vehemently states you two aren't together, you two are just... well he doesn't know what you two are, but you two aren't having sex, so it can't be boyfriends. Buuuuut he also spends too long of the time he has for sleep texting with you, and lowkey waits for the good morning text when you finally wake up.

Gaz periodically sending you sexy photos in his uniform (he's a good looking man, he knows it, and his exes all went wild for the soldier look and he won't admit it but he's scared of losing your interest) and you do say he looks hot but also ask him just to send you a selfie, just a picture of his face so you know he's still alive. And overtime he ends up sending more random selfies where he definitely doesn't look his best then those sexy photos he used to send his exes. Or you just send him some random things that remind you of him throughout his deployment.

Gaz being at that half giddy half scared stage where he wonders if you'll be waiting for him at the airport (He knows you said you would and you keep your word, but, again, his exes lied all the time) and him being surprised when you're there with those big signs with his name on it like some cliche romance movie.

And when you drive him home, you don't just drop him off and skip- no. You treat him like a kin; full five course meal of home cooked food, candlelight dinner and all, then a bubble bath that ends up with him giggling at the bath bombs shaped like donuts. And then when he's nice and relaxed you lay him down on the bed to give him a massage and shit you're good at it — Got him melting into the bed and dopey brained in minutes.

Oh and Gaz feels like he HAS to repay you with sex, it's not like his ex did anything for him for free without wanting something in return. But you're just comfortable laying down with him in the bed and watching the movie. I can definitely imagine him deciding to try this 'not toxic sex life' thing by just, while you two are cuddled up watching a movie, just lazily kissing you instead of trying to sneak a grope at your junk. Just Gaz kissing your temple or cheek and feeling light hearted when you turn your head to reciprocate.

Gaz wanting to try some lingerie for you but he's unsure - his ex always hated the idea, thought Gaz was supposed to be the dominant manly one cause he's the soldier. But he still tries it, even goes out to buy a nice pair of lingerie (says it's for his gf when he goes to buy it) and takes hours trying to decide if he should send the photo or nat. Chooses to send you one regardless and then turns his phone off cause he's kinda scared to see what you'll say. Then he's wonderfully surprised when he turns the phone on cause the curiosity is eating him alive, and finds all of your messages just complementing it.

Also Gaz who gets kinda bothered that you're not as demanding of sex as his ex was, that there's no 'passion' (in his eyes anyway, he's just not used to not being slapped around in the first five minutes of sex) in the bedroom so he thinks you're not into him or something. So he tries to purposely deny sex so you get pent up, like purposely sending you revealing pictures of himself but when you get home saying he's too tired or something

And he keeps getting more and more annoyed and has this tight bad feeling in his chest when you honor his words and don't engage after he says he's tired, in his mind it's like you don't find him attractive at all.

And like, imagine waking up in the middle of the night and he's slowly jerking off. You ask if he wants some help, but he acts a brat and says no but continues to stroke himself. You say you need to talk cause you don't understand why he keeps doing this and then not committing to have sex.

And it turns into a teary confession session but Kyle's so horny and pent up cause it didn't feel right jerking off without you there so you end up talking him through the masturbation session and when I say it's the hardest he's ever cum in his life (up to that point) I mean it.

[angelicsoka]

ROMEO & JULIET, l. hughes

word count | 1.3k

pairings | luke hughes x fem!zegras!reader, platonic!trevor zegras x sister!reader, platonic!quinn hughes x reader, platonic!jack hughes x reader

summary | in which trevor zegras finds out who his sister has been fooling around with, and he isn’t very happy.

warnings | not proofread, no use of "y/n", but the reader goes by the nickname “jules”. slight nsfw content but no smut. lowercase intended. this is a work of fiction, i am by no means saying this is how they act in real life.

a/n | this is highly requested, however i did rewrite it like 3 times. it still isn’t my favorite thing ever but here it is! enjoy!!

jules zegras was off limits to trevor’s friends, a rule that jules found incredibly stupid. since when did he get to decide who she can and cannot date? still, she kept her distance and they kept theirs. that was until luke hughes walked into jules’ life. 

it started off as nothing more than a fling, a one night stand. but one night turned to two, and nights turned into morning coffees, you get the picture. jules was happy, luke hughes made her happy. he was the perfect gentleman, he opened the car door for her, brought her flowers for every date night. he treated her like a queen and fucked her like a whore. he was the definition of perfect in jules’ eyes; the only problem was trevor. 

because of trevor, they spent most of their time together, sneaking around. quick kisses as they passed, sneaking into bathrooms at parties for a few minutes alone. they had sworn ethan and mark to secrecy when they had caught the two of them kissing. and trevor did everything in his power to keep his sister away from his friends, especially the hughes brothers. they were a real life romeo and juliet. 

jules giggled as luke kissed up her neck, her hands attempting to push him back. “lu, we can’t. my brother will be back soon and he will kill you if he found out.” she let out a breathy moan as he sucked lightly on her neck. “luke, please.” 

“i’m tired of hiding, baby. i just wanna kiss my girl and not have to worry about everyone finding out.” luke looked at her, a soft pout on his face. 

“trust me, i want nothing more than to show you off, but i can't if you're dead. just give me time to tell him.” luke frowned but nodded, placing another kiss on her neck. “luke.”

“alright, alright, i’m done.” he smirked, backing off. “for now.” jules blushed, pushing him away from her when the door to her apartment opened. 

“jules! luke! we're back!” trevor shouted, setting the pizzas on her counter.

“dude, we’re right here. you don't need to shout.” jules glared at her brother as jack and quinn walked in behind him. “the fuck you lookin’ at?” jules raised an eyebrow to jack who had a weird look on his face.

“is that a hickey?” he asked, pointing to the bruise forming on her neck. she gave him a harsh glare, knowing what he was up to. jack had walked in on luke and jules cuddling the day prior, and he had been trying to get them to tell trevor ever since. “are you blushing?” jules stood up, shoving past jack to grab a slice of pizza. 

“i don't know what you’re talking about.” she didn’t meet the eyes of her brothers and friends as she made her way back to her spot on the couch.

“jules, what is he talking about? let me see.” trevor tried to get a look at the hickey, but jules pushed him away, smacking him upside the back of his head. “ow, what the hell?”

“fuck off, trev. it's just a hickey, you act like you haven’t ever given someone a hickey!” she argued, her blush giving away the embarrassment she was feeling. “i’ve had it a few days, clearly you are oblivious.”

“you didn’t have it yesterday.” jack stated, his mouth full of pizza. trevor whipped around to jack, ready to interrogate his best friend. quinn sat beside luke, the two watching it go down. luke was glaring at his brother, giving him the ‘cut it out’ motion as he did. 

“how do you know?” trevor looked to jack, a suspicious look on his face. “i swear, jack, if you gave her the hickey–”

“first of all, ew. second of all, jack doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”

“what do you mean ew? please, you wanna get with me, don’t even deny it.” jules rolled her eyes, going to retort when trevor interrupted them.

“hold up, do you know who gave her the hickey?” 

“trev, i’m in college. why are you so surprised that i have a hickey?” jules was doing her best to defer the conversation, but trevor was persistent. “just let it go.”

“i’ll let it go when you tell me.” jules huffed out a laugh at his words. “come on, jules, just tell me!”

“no! jesus, trev, it isn’t that big of a deal.” jules took a bite of her pizza, glancing at luke. he was silent, avoiding eye contact with her and trevor.

“dude, just let her be. i wanna watch a movie and i can’t if you fuckers keep arguing.” quinn intervened, tired of the pointless arguing. jules looked to quinn with a grateful look in her eye, earning a slight nod. 

“fine, but we aren’t finished talking about this, jules.” she rolled her eyes, grabbing the remote from her coffee table to turn on a movie. 

“yeah, whatever.” jules clicked on a random movie, glancing to luke once more.

“dude, why do you keep looking at luke?” trevor asked, his face dropping when he realized. “oh my god, it was luke wasn’t it?” luke’s face flushed and he began to stutter as he tried to tell him otherwise. “oh my god!” 

“trevor, wait before you get mad–” jules started, her face incredibly red.

“of all my friends, you chose luke?” 

“hey! why’d you say it like that?” luke asked, an offend look on his face. “you say that like i’m a bad kid or something. be glad it's me and not jack!” jack began to choke on his pizza, glaring at luke as he coughed.

“fuck you, moose. i’m a great guy!” jules burst out laughing at his statement, stopping when she saw the look on trevor’s face.

“trevor, please. just listen before you kill him.”

“kill me?” luke’s voice squeaked, his eyes wide.

“hush, luke.” luke looked to quinn wide eyed, jules moved closer to luke, putting herself between luke and trevor. “listen, trev, he treats right, okay? and he is super sweet, and funny, and hot. and he treats me right, and that’s all that should matter.” jules spoke quickly, her face flushed as she spoke. “i like him, trev, like really, really like him. hell, i love him!” she clamped a hand over her mouth at her confession. her eyes darted to luke, the only sound in the room being the tv as everyone stared at her, eyes wide. “wait–”

“you love me?” jules’ fight or flight kicked and she ran out the door of her apartment. she hadn't even realized she was running until she was outside her complex, the winter air nipping at her skin. she felt her chest tighten, panic coursing through her veins. she hadn’t meant to say that, at least not yet. she sat on the cold pavement attempting to catch her breath. “j?” she whipped her head toward luke, shocked he had followed her out.

“lu–” luke sat beside her, placing a hand on her cheek and drawing her lips to his. 

“i love you, jules zegras. so goddamn much.” luke said, after pulling back from her. she gripped the front of his shirt in her fist, a goofy smile on her lips.

“god, you are so hot.” 

“oh, i know.” he laughed when she hit him. she kissed him once more, before pulling him up with her. 

“we should probably go talk to trevor. he’s probably planning your murder.”

“ehh, i wouldn't be so sure about that.” jules looked at him, confused. he led her back up to her apartment, opening the door. inside, shouting could be heard.

“dude, we’re going to be brothers-in-law!” jack shouted, shaking trevor by his shoulders. “aren’t you excited?”

“yes, i am. i don’t think quinn is though.” jules and luke walked in further, looking to quinn who had a dead stare on his face, looking as though he wanted to die.

“you good, quinny?” jules asked, looking to the oldest hughes.

“how could you do this to me?”

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[howlingday]

Sun: Man... It must be nice having a harem. Having a bunch of beautiful women literally & metaphorically throwing themselves at you. How'd you do it?

Jaune: Ahahaha... I haven't slept for the past 3 weeks.

Sun, concerned: A-are you ok-?

Jaune, desperate: Please send help.

Ruby: Wait, why can't we go inside?

Sun: Dude needs his rest.

Weiss: He can get plenty of rest with his girlfriends next to him!

Neptune: Actually, the only one not getting plenty of rest is him. You're all on different cycles and Jaune is awake during all of them.

Blake: That's not right, is it? I mean, he gets a nap in the afternoon, right?

Yang: Er... Not really, since that's when I usually get him during our "workout" sessions.

Pyrrha: And I take up most of his evenings with our nightly sparring, but we're both in bed by midnight.

Blake: ...

Ren: Blake?

Blake: (Sighs) And then I come in for a quickie.

Yang: Really gotta get your midnight snack in, huh~?

Weiss: Honestly, you're all just deplorable!

Sun: Actually, he says you take up most of his time. He feels like you need the most attention out of everyone.

Weiss: (Scoffs) That is not true!

Ruby: Well, I usually have coffee with him in the morning, and that goes on for about an hour. (6-7)

Blake: I spend most of the night with him until about dawn. (0-6)

Yang: I'm working out with him from 'til about dinnertime. (14-18)

Pyrrha: And after dinner is when we're training. (18-0)

Weiss: ...

Nora: So... How long do YOU spend time with him, Weiss~?

Weiss: ... (7-14)

Yang: (Whistles) Damn, you really do take up his time, don't you?

Weiss: I HAVE PARTICULAR NEEDS, OKAY?!

Sun: Hey, hey, keep it down! A man is trying to get his sleep!

Meanwhile, inside Jaune's bed...

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

hiiii! Can I request all mercs w/ somebody who doesn’t talk due to self consciousness, but to an extreme? Like smbody who only says a few words a month and talks rly quiet.

if you need to choose specific mercs, either medic, sniper, or Engi <3

/p

(Some) TF2 Mercs and a semi silent S/O

Warning: Medic. Just Medic in general honestly.

—————————-

Engineer:

- To be honest, he has no idea how to cope with this at first and he’s rather thrilled to meet somebody like this. Engineer talks people’s ears off when they’re willing to listen and you’re no exception. Your silence makes his flood gates of pointless information open up and one could easily mistake him for Scout in this moment.

- Uhhh… Why aren’t you responding to his theory on black holes? Eh, who cares. He stops talking after a while and you watch him scribble calculations on a small sticky note mindlessly. He doesn’t seem too offended by it. He’s more than happy to sit in somebody’s presence quietly all night.

- Engineer starts to notice after a while that you just.. RARELY talk at all. Not that it bugs him much, but he starts to suspect some sort of trauma disorder.. Or something along those lines. His mind is going crazy with possibilities as to why but ultimately never asks out of worry he’ll erode something you left behind in the past.

- Prolonged and completely dead silent eye contact is rather easy for you with him. Even if this doesn’t naturally come easily. You can’t make out any eyes behind those dark goggles of his. Oddly comforting.

- You swore you caught a smug smile creep up on his face a bit when you finally do say something. As if he was thinking ‘AHA! I knew my charisma would pay off eventually.’ This gotcha moment for him makes his ego massively inflate. This is Engineer. What do you expect? He knows he’s smart, and always plays his cards right. Manipulative bastard.

—————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Notices you’re starting to hang out with him more in a window he likes to camp at. He properly identified you as a fellow introvert from the start. Your mutism is noted, your presence is noted.. and rudely fucking ignored.

- Sniper doesn’t typically find anybody too interesting. Yes, even those who are quiet. He’s not a people person by any means, and only feels intrigue rarely. I guess you were that rare person evidently. He never even looks your way even ONCE as you sit there with him, but today was different. You saw his attention divert momentarily.

- “At least Y/N doesn’t fuckin’ talk my ears off like a bloody nonce trying to proclaim his innocence to a brick wall. You wanna know who drives me the LEAST insane in this bin? People like them. People who don’t talk their arses off and instead focus on a clean shot. Focus on the bloody job.”

- Next, you find an extra cup of coffee on the table in the nest that morning. It’s clearly not meant for him and you’re the only person who sits with him. He doesn’t even look at you as you pick it up.

- Begins to become slightly irritated when you break routine and don’t show up. Starts grumpily asking around for you and you notice this quite quickly. Dude has completely let his emotions clear to you and he’s oblivious to it. The reason you were absent that day is because you needed extra bed rest. (Existence is tiring.)

- You wake up to find him sitting at the edge of your bed reading a fucking newspaper. Yes, i’m not even joking. He’s so angry at you for not showing up that he decided to show up for you.

————————————————————————-

Medic:

- Medic doesn’t.. Process empathy/compassion like most people do. I’ve alluded to this before. He is very, very bad with emotions. For some reason your silence bugs him in a certain way. It worries him slightly, and he REALLY doesn’t like it. Especially since he can’t exactly ask the cause of it. He wouldn’t get a clear response back. Or just get shrugged off and assured it was nothing.

- You sit at the opposite side of his desk and hang out with him every night. Your sleep schedule had been recently fucked. Medic doesn’t even try to tell you to go to bed or school you on a night’s rest like he would everyone else. Instead when he’s not writing, he taps his pencil on the desk and stares at you… menacingly. Is he judging you?! He narrows his eyes. He’s definitely judging you. He has to be. Right?

- Indirect and awkward staring contest for a fucking hour. You begin to grow nervous because it’s like he’s trying to fucking beam thoughts directly into your head telepathically. It looks like he’s trying to use the fucking force to choke you. What the hell is going on through his head? Was he thinking about gutting you like he’s expressed for pretty much everyone else?!

- Stops staring to get up and use his coffee machine. Comes back and continues staring. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON??!?!

[harrywavycurly]

What You Deserve Part 3: Start Small

Masterlist: Here

CW: Tiniest mention of your toxic ex

Tag List: @littlered0000 @saramelaniemoon @ali-r3n @sapphire4082 @sweetmoonlove0214 @eddies-girl-22 @darknesseddiem @peaches-roses-sins @blckburd @comeonatmebruh @daisy-munson @cultish-corner @mrsjellymunson @aol19 @micheledawn1975 @2000babies

A/N: You might be nervous but don’t worry Eddie’s got you also it’s a long one so I split it up into sections and it’ll make sense as you read, enjoy🫠✨

“Good Morning.” “Good Morning…uh you didn’t have to knock on my door you could’ve just honked or-” “honked?…sweetheart I’m not sixteen and running late to school….I’m here to pick you up so that means I knock on the door or ring the bell…whatever you prefer and walk you to my car.” “Oh…Steven just honks…it’s not that big of deal really if it’s easier than getting all the way out-” “it’s not your job to make things easier on anyone…especially Harrington.” “Sorry…I’ll uhm work..on that.” “You don’t have to apologize…so shall we exit the porch now or did you want to stand here for a bit longer?” “Oh yeah yeah we can go…holy shit is that your car?” “One of them yeah…do you not like it? I went with the one that has the smoothest ride…since I know feeling comfortable while inside a car is important to you.” “It’s so…nice I don’t want to like…get it dirty or anything.” “Sweetheart…it’s car…it’s gonna get dirty and that’s fine I’ll just wash it…trust me…there’s nothing you could do that I can’t fix…so please…get in the car.”

“Okay…” “Your coffee is right there…and feel free to change the radio to whatever you want.” “Thank you…oh you don’t care if I touch this stuff?” “Well you’re going to have to touch it if you want to change the station…” “I’m uh not used to being able to mess with the buttons in the car if I’m not driving.” “Please tell me Harrington-” “No no Steven lets me but him and I listen to the same stuff so it was fine…it was uh…my last uhm boyfriend he..didn’t let me control anything in the car.” “Well let’s get this out of the way now okay?…I’m Eddie…or to you I’m sure you’d prefer to call me Edward but either way…I’m not your ex…so whatever he was like and by the sounds of it he wasn’t a very…nice guy…so just know I’m not like him…so feel free to touch all the buttons and change the station..hell roll your window down if you want I don’t care…what’s mine is yours okay?” “Really?” “Yes..that’s a big part of this…type of relationship…whatever I have you also have…and if there’s something you want then just tell me and I’ll do my best to get it for you.” “Oh wow…okay…uh so when you say relationship what uhm…what would I call you?” “What do you mean?” “Like…when you drop me off today and someone asks oh who was that? Is that your boyfriend? What…what should I say? I can’t just be like oh that’s just my…sugar daddy Eddie.” “Yeah that’s sort of a mouthful isn’t it?” “I mean that’s uh just assuming you….you want to be my daddy…sugar daddy…sorry I’m just nervous and you’re…a uhm little intimidating in person but not in a bad way it’s…it’s like in the same way I’d feel around Tony Soprano or someone like that.” “Did you just compare me to a mob boss? That’s the vibes I give off?….if so then me and my stylist need to have a conversation about my wardrobe.” “You have a stylist?” “She does my shopping for me once every two months or so because I hate shopping for clothes….but Tony Soprano…really?” “I mean…you just look like you could easily have someone whacked with the snap of a finger and…yet you also look like you give really good hugs which is important because sometimes a good hug can just fix everything and…and you just…I feel…safe? Even though I don’t really know you…I’d trust you with my drink at a party.” “I’m honored that you’d leave your drink with me at a party and I’m glad you feel safe with me…but you make me sound like I’m some super badass dude…when I’m just a business owner who doesn’t have any mafia connections at all so no matter how many times I snap my fingers no one is getting whacked…” “damn..I was going to give you a list.” “But I have been told I give good hugs.” “That’s good…that’s really good to know….so uhm…how do we actually do this? Do I sign something? Do you want a trial run to see if I annoy you or not?” “I don’t need a trial run…also this isn’t fifty shades of grey I don’t need you to sign anything.” “You’ve seen those movies?” “No I read the books.” “Oh…you…you like to uhm…read? That’s…great.” “So why don’t we start small for now?” “Okay…what does that mean exactly?” “You let me take you to and from work this week and we can get to know each other more and…you let me buy you dinner Friday night?” “Okay that…sounds fine.” “And Friday over dinner we can discus what we both want out of this? Does that sound doable?” “Yes…that’s doable.” “Perfect.”

“Harrington isn’t even here yet and the store opens in five minutes?” “Yeah but that’s fine I have a key and can open the store up.” “By yourself?” “Yeah? I do it all the time.” “That’s…not safe…Steve should know better than that.” “It really is okay…oh are you going to see Dave today?” “I am…I’m actually going to work on him myself.” “Really?” “Yeah I figured he deserved to be worked on by someone that knows his life story…I’m gonna do what I can for him don’t worry.” “Easier said than done…” “I know…oh look who decided to actually show up to work.” “He’s not late so that’s actually good timing for him…so uhm I’ll see you later?” “Yeah I’ll be here when your shift is over.” “So uh have a good day Eddie…” “thanks sweetheart…tell Harrington to call me.” “Uh oh he’s in trouble isn’t he?” “No…not at all…” “what are you-” “you didn’t think I’d let you open your own door did you?” “Oh…uhm well thank you.” “Have a good day…oh and please don’t wait for me outside when you’re done working okay? I’ll come inside and get you.” “Okay…I’ll see you later then…” “Yes…now I gotta go but I’ll tell Dave hello for you.” “Thanks…for uhm…everything.” “You’re welcome.”

[its-time-to-write]

This may be a bit of a strange idea (Feel free to ignore this request)

But since your about Jaime Tartt baby fic. I had the thought of Jaime trying to give reader a break takes the baby in a stroller to training with Roy and Roy is just kind of like WTF and other hijinks ensue like maybe someone flirts with Jamie with the baby or roy gets left with the baby at somepoint or Reader is freaken out cause the baby is gone. IDK just an idea that has been stuck in my head since I read your baby fic

Dude this request was not strange AT ALL. It was actually nice because it was similar to something I wanted to write, and I haven’t been able to do that because I’ve been doing requests. THANK YOU.

i’ll still be right next to you my dear

Your daughter Bea is five months old. You’re still sleep-deprived, but less than you were a month ago. Jamie does his absolute best as her dad and your husband, but the weight of it still falls to you. Things have gotten considerably less tense, too, since you moved out of the flat and back into your house. It was weird at first, both you and Jamie walking on little eggshells around each other. 

The tension was broken with an all-hands-on-deck moment at 1am, when Bea had a stomach bug or something, and you two had no choice but to just laugh in resignation at the sheer enormity of the mess she made. There go the beginnings of sleep training. 

Bea had her own schedule, one that involved being an early bird like her dad. She would wake up five to ten minutes before his 3:30 alarm went off, and it got to the point where he barely even set it anymore. 

Jamie would get out of bed, throw on some pants, change her, and then zip through his morning routine. He’d put her back to bed, give you a half-awake kiss, then be out the door before Roy could knock. 

(Roy made that mistake early on, waking Bea. You thoroughly chewed him out in an exhausted rage. Jamie says it’s the closest thing he’s ever seen to Roy crying).

Anyway, at 3:55 this Saturday morning, Jamie kisses you, says, “I’ve got Bea, so sleep in,” and is gone before you even know what’s happening. 

You flop back on the pillow and are out in seconds. 

—

“The fuck is this?” Roy says the moment Jamie steps out the door, pushing a happy Bea in her jogging stroller.

“The fuck does it look like?” Jamie replies. “Her mum needed sleep, so Bea’s joining us for training.” He leans over the stroller to look at his daughter and coos, “Isn’t that right, angel?”

Bea makes a delighted gurgle and Roy grunts.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me the great Uncle Roy is daunted by a silly wee baby?” Jamie says, grinning. “You are Bea’s favorite.”

Roy glares at Jamie. “Don’t fucking lie to me, everyone knows Sam’s her fucking favorite. She even likes fucking Isaac better than me.”

Jamie pouts. “Don’t listen to him, Bea. We know you love Uncle Roy, even though he’s being a twat.”

Roy just grunts and looks at Bea. “You know how I feel about you, kid,” he says. She babbles. She knows. 

“Alright, come on. Suppose the stroller gives your dad some extra weight while he runs.”

Jamie grins, and starts jogging down the street.

—

You wake up to the sound of silence. No Bea, no Jamie. Just birds chirping and the sun shining. You squint at the clock. 8:37am. You reach for your phone and see a selfie from Jamie of him, Bea, and Roy marked 7:02am with the caption, headed to breakfast! 

You now have a hazy recollection of Jamie saying something about taking Bea when he left, but it felt like a dream at the time. The silence makes more sense now. 

You smile and send heart emojis. I love you! you type. 

love u 2, Jamie replies. Then: I hope that was for me not Roy?

You shake your head. That boy. He thinks he’s a comedian.

You roll out of bed and stretch. Time for a nice, long shower, then a good coffee from Jamie’s complementary espresso machine. You’re not gonna lie, there are certain perks to being married to a footballer.

—

Meanwhile, Jamie and Roy have stopped for breakfast at a café that Roy says fits in with Jamie’s diet. He says no coffee and Jamie makes a disgusted face and replies you’re not the boss of me, which is why they’re letting Bea decide if Jamie gets coffee or not by seeing who will get her to smile first. 

Jamie wins, of course. It’s part of being a dad. 

They’re sitting at a table outside till 9am, Bea out of her stroller and in Jamie’s arms. They’re on their third cups of coffee and Bea’s draining her bottle of formula like there’s no tomorrow. Jamie is in the middle of stroking Bea’s nose (a miniature version of yours) and watching her eyes blink slow, when two girls walk up to their table. 

“Ohmygod, no way, is that your baby?” one girl asks. 

Jamie looks up and gives a polite, perfunctory, “yeah,” and turns back to Bea. Roy’s sitting back in his seat, ready to watch this unfold. 

“It is like, so totally adorable. There’s something so sweet about a baby, don’t you think?” the other girl says, putting her hand on Jamie’s shoulder. He shifts away as politely as he can. 

“I just think that like, men with babies are so much hotter than men without babies,” girl 1 continues, oblivious to Jamie, who has shifted Bea onto his chest and is displaying his left hand as conspicuously as possible. He taps Bea’s back with his ring finger in what he hopes is an absentminded manner. 

Roy holds back a snort.

“Especially single dads,” says girl 2. “Soo hot. I’ll give you my number if you ever need a babysitter.”

She’s barely done speaking when Jamie blurts out, “I’m married.” He looks so harried that this time Roy can’t hold back a laugh. The girls turn to him with a glare, then back to Jamie. 

“She doesn’t have to know,” says one of them. 

“Pretty sure she does,” Jamie replies. “And anyway, I ain’t interested. Have a good morning.”

Bea, the angel that she is chooses that exact moment to start burping. 

The girls give her a disgusted look and turn away. 

Roy looks at Jamie, eyebrows raised and a ghost of a smile on his face. “Nice fucking move with the ring finger,” he says. “If it were me, I’d’ve fucking given them a different fucking finger.”

“That’s where you and me differ, granddad,” Jamie replies, wiping spit up off his vest (waterproof, thank god), “I’m a gentleman.”

Roy rolls his eyes and shakes his head. 

— 

The windows are open, the laundry is spinning, and you’re dancing around the house. You love Bea, but god you also love good rest. And a clean house. And Jamie Tartt. Man, you love him. You can’t believe he took Bea out for the whole morning and knowing him and Roy, they’ll be out until at least 11am. You smile. That gives you time to head to the shops and pick up some flowers, which will make you feel like a civilized human being, one who has her life together and can take care of her child and her husband and maybe, just maybe, one who is in the mood to get laid tonight. 

—

Jamie and Roy are strolling through Richmond, passing by shops and enjoying what feels like the first lovely day in ages. Jamie hasn’t heard from you since you asked is this shirt clean or dirty? with a picture near the washing machine. He knows Saturday cleaning is like a ritual to you, one you picked up in high school and carried on through college. You have a system and you take your time, windows open and music playing. He can picture you spinning around the house putting things away, and that mental image is enough to make his face split into a smile. He remembers the Saturdays you spent before Bea, you cleaning and dancing, and him, well, not helping but certainly dancing with you and promising that he’ll give you more dirty sheets to wash if you’d just take a tiny little break? In the bedroom? With no clothes on because they need to be washed, wink wink?

It usually worked. 

You’d lay in bed for precisely ten minutes afterward, take a no-nonsense shower, then kick him out of the house. He’d be gone for an hour, buying you that chocolate you liked and whatever flowers he thought suited the day. There’s a good thought. He should get you flowers, a reminder of their early days of romance. And maybe, just maybe, Bea can sleep soundly enough that they can revive other traditions, too. 

“Roy,” Jamie begins.

“No.”

“Oi, you didn’t even let me finish!” he says indignantly.

“Fine. What do you fucking want.”

“It ain’t for me,” Jamie says, “it’s for Bea. And my wife. I want to get her flowers, but it ain’t easy to push the stroller and look. Can you take Bea around the green? I’ll come find ya when I’m done.”

Roy stares at Jamie, and Jamie is sure he’s going to say no. But then Roy walks around to the front of the stroller and crouches down in front of Bea. 

“If your dad fucking goes and gets flowers for your mum, do you promise to be alright for twenty minutes? I know I’m not fucking Sam or Isaac, but Phoebe thinks I’m a good uncle. She’s a proper fucking dweeb, but a good judge of character.”

Bea just stares at him. Roy slaps his thighs and stands up. “Alright,” he says. “Let’s go.”

Jamie grins and says, “Bye, Beatrice. Be good for Uncle Roy.” He gives her a kiss on her forehead, a boop on the nose, and is gone, weaving through Richmond, man on a mission. 

“Your mum’s a fucking saint for putting up with him,” Roy says to Bea. Bea says nothing. She’s fallen asleep. Roy shrugs and starts pushing her in the direction of the green. Better asleep than crying. 

—

You’re showered, dressed, with just a touch of makeup, and you’re on your way to the flower shop. There’s this little one you and Jamie used to go to. You know the owner a little, but you suppose Jamie knows her better because he’s been in more. She’s about the age of his mum, and has a soft spot for him. He overpays and always leaves one flower for her. He hasn’t had the time to be over since Bea, so you say hello and show her some baby pictures, and then some of Bea and Jamie. You both laugh over your favorite, Jamie passed out on the couch, mouth open, wearing gray sweatpants and a single sock, with Bea on his stomach in a gray onesie and a single sock. She’s drooling on him and his hair’s a mess, but you think it’s adorably hilarious. Like father, like daughter. 

Now, you’re perusing the flowers. It smells wonderful, the warm weather diffusing the fragrances through the shop. You turn a corner and bonk straight into a man with his back turned to you. You open your mouth to apologize and he turns, and out comes, “Jamie?”

He smiles and you peer behind him. “Where’s Bea? Oh my god Jamie, did you lose our daughter? She had better be close by, I swear to god, Jamie Tartt, how do you lose an entire baby, especially one as noisy as Bea?!” 

You’re oblivious to Jamie’s attempts to interrupt your rant, so when you pause for a breath he says, “love.”

You turn to face him, from where you were trying to stand on your tiptoes hoping for a glimpse of Bea’s stroller. 

“I didn’t lose her. She’s with Roy. D’you really think I’m that irresponsible?” 

He looks so hurt that you realize what you’ve been saying. Your hands fly up to your mouth. Of course Jamie wouldn’t lose Bea. He loves her. He looks at her as though she makes the stars shine. 

“Babe. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just wasn’t expecting to see you, and then I wasn’t expecting to see you without Bea, and I thought I’d surprise you by getting flowers before you both got back, and-” you stop. Jamie is gently holding your face and smiling, no longer hurt. 

“Babe,” he says, “love of me life and best mum around, it’s ok. I know whatcha mean.” He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “Bit funny we had the same idea, innit?”

You smile. You’d been so caught up in your split-second worry about Bea, you didn’t even realize what was happening. 

“Guess some things don’t change,” you reply. “You pick out any good ones?”

Jamie places his hand over his heart. “Love. I only pick out good ones. I picked you, didn’t I?” You laugh at his sparkling eyes, and put your hands on his waist, pulling him close. 

“Pretty sure I picked you,” you reply. 

Jamie hums. “That’s a fuckin lie, and you know it.”

Your feeble retort is cut off by his lips on yours. 

—

You and Jamie walk toward the green, hand in hand. He’s holding bright yellow daffodils in the other. 

Jamie spots Roy first. “Oi!” he yells, “look who I found!”

You wave, jog over to Bea, and crouch down. “Hi baby! I missed you! Did you have fun with Uncle Roy?” Bea babbles at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh good,” you reply, “he is your third-favorite uncle, after all.”

Roy nods. “You fucking get it. Jamie tried to feed me this fucking bullshit that I was fucking number one.”

“Jamie!” you say. “Everyone knows it goes Sam, then Isaac, then Roy.”

Jamie puts his hands up defensively. 

“Honesty,” Roy says, “Such an admirable quality. Remind me again why you’re with this fucking prick?”

You pretend to think for a moment then say, “For his money.”

Jamie says “Oi!” so you quickly amend, “And his smokin’ hot body.”

Jamie nods, satisfied. “That’s better.”

Roy is looking at Jamie in disgust. “You two are so fucking adorable, it’s fucking disgusting. C’mon Bea. I see Sam over by that bench. Let’s give these fucking idiots some time alone.”

You and Jamie turn to each other. 

“He said we’re adorable,” you say, grinning. 

“He said we get alone time,” Jamie says, grinning back. 

“Roy!” you call, “how much time do we have?”

“Three hours!” Sam yells back. “I want to walk Bea to my restaurant!”

You and Jamie turn back to each other, giddy. 

“You know what that means,” you say. 

“Sex,” he replies immediately. 

You laugh and grab his hand. “C’mon, babe. Let’s enjoy our alone time.”

As you walk away, Jamie says, “Oi, need to tell you about these girls who were trying to flirt with me. But don’t worry, I gave them the finger.” He holds up his ring finger and you slap his arm. 

“This is why I love you.”

“Really? And here I only thought you were with me for my money,” he replies. 

“And your hot body. Don’t forget that one,” you say. 

“How could I forget?” he says. “When we get home, let’s put it to some good use.

[newtkive]

pixels [ newt x reader - modern text au ]

ch. 2 - drama queen core

summary: minho's drama finally catches up with him, but newt becomes a hero.

warnings: strong language, mutual pining, none really.

➥ m.list

__

THE GLADE

[ 12:08 PM ]

y/n: gm pookies

newt: it’s the afternoon.

y/n: yeah well

ur east coast

newt: so are you y/n

y/n: FINE BAD MORNING THEN ARE U HAPPY?

minho: drama queen is awake

newt: you’re the drama queen min let’s be fr

minho: u want me to die be honest

newt: see .

tommy: hey guys :3 been waiting for you all

y/n: awwww tommy <3 gm

tommy: morning sweetums

minho: ew stop

newt: how did you sleep?

tommy: good! used my new heated pillow

newt: not you

minho: not you

tommy: wtf

WHO THEN?? THERES LIKE 7 OTHER PPL IN HERE

minho: he means y/n

and there’s 4 other people not including newt and y/n dumbass

y/n: oh

why just me????

newt: cuz you stayed up til 6 am

y/n: ..

how do you know that

newt: i saw you were active on discord

gally: doesn’t that mean you were awake too then

newt: ok and?

minho: thats crazy newt

newt: no it isn’t

i just casually saw it

y/n: hehe

im ok i need to sleep more. sims 4 was really consuming me

why were you awake??

newt: up for work

minho: you get on discord before work?

chronically online..

newt: can you choke and pass out and hit your head please

minho: THE WAY U WANT ME DEAD IS INSANE

y/n: he’s gotta check on his discord hoes before hitting the grind

newt: there are no discord hoes

unless you count thomas

and i don’t

tommy: well why not

newt: because you disgust me

tommy: love u too :3<3

minho: y’all about to kiss aren’t you

newt: never say that shit again im outside your door with a b*mb

minho: why censor it

just blow me up it’s my grandmas house anyway. u want to jump her that bad????

gally: blow that bitch up i say

y/n: HELLO???!,!!

gally: minho not grandma

she loves me cuz im so tall

minho: tall people always gotta remind you they’re tall 😒

like we get it bigfoot

gally: shut up tinkerbell

y/n: you’re somewhat tall minho

minho: any man under 6’0 is considered short

y/n: yeah but newt is 6 ft trapped in a 5’10 body so not totally true

newt: what does that even mean

minho: give me a break

i can tell you exactly what that means

she wanna hit

newt: stop

tommy: don’t get his hopes up

newt: dude

stfu

y/n: what newt said

gally: can we appreciate the only one actually over 6 ft here

minho: no.

tommy: im the same height as newt!!!!

y/n: yea but ur like 3 ft trapped in a 5’10 body tommy not the same

tommy: oh ..

minho: kind of real

newt: can someone kick gally i’m tired of seeing his fucking name on my phone

gally: then turn your phone off don’t you have old ladies to tend to at the library

newt: yeah and they all love me

y/n: so real

if i was old i’d go in there and imagine you’re my young boyfriend and cling to everything u say

tommy: true im the old ladies

y/n: LMAO

minho: write a fanfic y/n why don’t you

newt: yeah you both are old and not beating the dementia allegations

y/n: IM THE YOUNGEST HERE

ur just mad you’re old as dirt

tommy: youth has left you newt and it has turn you bitter in your old age.

minho: thomas knows big words who knew

newt: which word in that sentence was big??

y/n: shut up minho

minho: wtf did i do

y/n: idk but i imagine you sitting there typing on your little phone and i got pissed

minho: WHAT???!.‘wKWHFO

newt: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

yeah chubby little fingers hitting the wrong letters on his iphone 8

minho: im leaving

tommy: dont leave i forgive you for what you said

minho: i don’t give a damn

y’all mad y’all are all fake im the realest i’ve been prophesizing and reading scriptures 7000 years before y’all fake asses were born be so for real right now

y/n: not reading that

congrats

or sorry for what happened idk

about to drink my coffee in a wine glass

tommy: just drink wine

newt: it’s noon tommy??

tommy: ok and?

newt: explains a lot

minho: no coffee for me this new year only water and pussy juice fr fr

[ newt removed minho from the group ]

tommy: woah

y/n: woah..

newt: i can’t take it anymore

alby: How did you get that access..?

newt: don’t worry about it

in times of need i have to step in like that

y/n: hi alby!

alby: Hey y/n!

tommy: you’re such a hero newt

gally: that was deserved

who wants to play minecraft rn

y/n: me!!

alby: I’ll play, I’m off work today.

y/n: let’s go to the desert i want a camel

gally: alright but then the caves after i wanna mine

newt: if you mine with her you gotta bring extra food and storage when she dies so you can pick up the fallen items

gally: i forget you’re her designated babysitter

y/n: oh please no he isn’t

and i’ll bring my own food

newt: you always say that and then leave it in the stove oven

y/n: WELL I WONT THIS TIME

newt: sure ok

i’ll get on after work

[ alby added minho to the group ]

minho: when i get you.

newt: why did you add him back alby

alby: He was harassing me.

newt: be a man and take it

gally: im leaving

[ gally left the group ]

minho: im going to throw up and die

newt: im staying out of this

minho: (guy who caused it) im staying out of this

y/n: why does gally alwyas leave 😔

newt: why question a gift from the heavens

tommy: get online y/n gally is attacking my dirt house w a pickaxe :((((

y/n: NO IM COMING

minho: im coming to your work newt

newt: okay im locking the door early then

minho: i’ll smash through the glass idc

newt: i’m leaving my shift is over at 1 today.

minho: i’ll use life360 on you

newt: i deleted that app

minho: i’ll stand in the middle of the street

newt: ok let me position my car in front of you

just come to my apartment and we can play w them on pc and xbox

minho: …. fine but i hate your guts

newt: fine

y/n: HURRY GALLY IS ATTACKING MY SHED NOOOOWWW

newt: i’ll just rebuild it

minho: i’ll set it on fire just wait

[tempestuous-tempest]

Romancing Reginald "Wrench" Blechman

I've gotten an informal request for more Wrench headcanons this time, Romance ones. I have done romance in the past with one that was for more than just Wrench as well as one for an astronaut s/o. Here are my other Wrench headcannon lists; 1, 2, 3, 4.

Dates:

Improvised more often than not. He doesn't think to plan them out most of the time and so they are often spontaneous.

Going shopping at a Walmart just to get kicked out from riding shopping carts around the store or playing basketball in the toy isle or sword fighting with wrapping paper or sticks from the arts and crafts section.

Spray painting curse words and middle fingers all over bloom buildings and Haum. Hacking Albion drones and using em and cause some havoc.

Watching new action movies like Deadpool and Wolverine.

Scaling the Golden Gate or the London Bridge and harrassing locals by hacking their radios and changing their music.

Racing. Obviously. Especially if it ends up in a high speed chase.

Love Language(s):

Physical Touch is his most primary form of showing affection. He's clingly as all hell. Hand holding, hand around your shoulders, little sweet mask kisses that kind of hurt. Of course when you're in private the mask comes off a bit.

Quality Time is his secondary form. Spending time with you is something he enjoys. It can be as much as taking you on a date or as little as just standing near each other at his workshop.

Acts of Service falls in the middle. He likes pretending he can be a gentleman. Opening doors for you with a little "My lady/dude", fixing something you broke and put on the waiting list of things you need to fix later, and/or buying donuts and coffee for you in the mornings for breakfast. Be careful though, if you sleep to late, he'll sit there and eat em all himself.

Gift Giving. He'll probably tinker with some things and make a gift for you every once and a while. Gives him something to do. With his hands when you're not around and he cant just hold you. Sometimes he'll buy you things or if you

Words of Affirmation dont exactly stick with him. Anyone can say they love another and the words can be as hollow as bird bones. He doesnt like how empty the words can seem even if spoken with real love.

Bonus:

Expect pranks. Nothing harsh like "Oh I'm breaking up with you". Just something actually funny. Prank wars between you two are inevitable.

Absolutely throws a fit when he can't have your attention like a two year old in Walmart being told he can't get something he wants. He pouts when ignored.

[syrupfog]

Tired, tired barista Law. Works in the coffee shop at the heart of campus where the line is always out the door and the drinks are so sugary it makes him physically ill to pump the syrups. He's the shift lead though so he has to pull the longest hours and cover anyone out sick. 

He's just. Tired all the time. But it's fine, he just has to keep his grades up and keep his job and get into the fellowship he's after and then it'll be smooth sailing to get onto the night shift at the hospital he wants and work his way up to day shift it's fine.

Honestly the biggest problem he deals with is the store manager, Doflamingo. Once, a year ago at this point, Law had mentioned that he would have to leave his position if he managed to get the receptionist position at the university hospital. It would've given him connections.

But apparently the mere idea that Law would be willing to leave, to no longer work under Doffy, was betrayal enough. He's been... off. Ever since. At the very least, Law knows he's never getting a raise again. He'll be lucky if he's not framed for stealing from the till.

One morning, after an especially rough clopener where Law found himself cleaning literal shit off the bathroom walls multiple times, Doffy comes in to inform him that he's going to have to stay until close because he’s declaring an emergency shift lead meeting.

Law has two midterms and a lab due within forty eight hours, but he needs the money and as much as he'd like to in this moment, he can't just walk out on the job. He nods, stiffly, and goes back to creating the worst latte art of all time.

It's for a regular. He comes in almost every day, orders lattes, and then DOESN'T DRINK THEM. He insists on the drinks that are the most annoying to make (Law's good at hearts but he's started turning them into dicks out of annoyance) and then he doesn't EVEN DRINK THEM.

He just sits in one of the plush chairs in the corner until his drink is cold and then leaves, waving at Law with a big smile on his face like they're old friends. 

It's weird. Law doesn't trust it. 

Of course, as Bepo says, Law doesn't trust much of anyone these days.

And as Penguin says, that's probably because he hasn't slept more than 3 hours in a night in two years. 

And as Shachi says, damn. That's fucked up, dude. 

Finishing the latte (the art is a dick, there's no denying it), Law pushes it across the counter to the regular.

His straw hat is pushed back, giving Law a view of his wide, wide eyes and general overexcited look. 

"Thanks!" he says, taking the drink and blowing on it, instantly sloshing foam over the side. 

Law rolls his eyes and goes back to the ever growing line of customers.

The day doesn't pass quickly, but it ends eventually as all things must. Law is dead on his feet, sweeping the same spot of floor with stained mocha powder for almost ten minutes before Bepo, sanitizing the espresso machines, takes pity on him.

"You should go," he says. "I can finish cleaning up. Go get some real sleep." 

Law rubs at his eyes. "No, it's fine," he says. "Actually, you should go. Doffy's making me stay for a shift lead meeting so I'll be here regardless." 

Bepo does not look happy with that answer.

But Law's his boss, technically. Law grits his teeth and checks another closing chore off the list. 

He knows Doffy's upstairs in his office, but it does slowly dawn on him that he's seen no other shift leads coming in. There's four of them, and yet... 

Odd.

All he can concentrate on at this point, is that the sooner he gets done the sooner he can go home. Home. Where his bed is, and more importantly his notes for O Chem. 

He shoos Bepo off home when the only thing left to do is inventory. Moving slow, he grabs the clipboard and makes his way into the walk-in, propping the door behind him. 

Scones, muffins, cheesecakes... It's dark in here, and Law realizes he's left his phone on the counter. He can't tell what's blueberry and what's chocolate chip. 

He's just about to turn around and grab it when the door of the walk-in slams shut. 

Law freezes. 

He'd propped that door open, right? It wouldn't just close like that. 

The walk-in door doesn't lock, for like. Security purposes. He goes and pushes against it, only to find resistance. Not like it's latched, but like like someone's barricaded the door. 

Law grits his teeth. This isn't good. 

It's cold in here, he has no phone, and Bepo's already gone. If he listens, he can hear someone's footsteps, the scraping of chairs. 

It feels like overreacting to yell. To react at all.

But— he's cold. he's in his uniform, and a short sleeve polo doesn't do much when one is locked in a freezer. Is this one of the shift leads playing a prank? Kid wouldn't be organized enough to try this. Apoo might... 

His chattering teeth eventually win out over his pride.

"Hello?" he yells. "I'm still in here!" 

There's a beat of silence, and then slow, steady footsteps. 

"I know," says a voice that is distinctly Doffy's. "And you'll keep being in there, until you learn your lesson." 

"What the fuck," Law spits. "What fucking lesson?"

"I saw your papers, Trafalgar," Doffy says. "I know you're applying to that summer internship program." 

Law is. He doesn't have a shot in hell of getting in, doesn't have the connections. He's still applying, though. "So what?" 

"You're my best shift lead," Doffy says.

"You're my best worker altogether. It would be ridiculous to abandon me now." 

Law was always going to abandon him. This is a coffee shop. He's not planning on working clopeners the rest of his life. "Let me out, Doffy," he says. His nose is icy. His hands are in his armpits.

"I'll give you a night to think on it," Doflamingo says. "Maybe you'll make better decisions in the morning." 

Law knows very well that he won't survive in a freezer overnight. He's not even wearing socks inside his boots, the cold is already numbing his ankles.

"Stop!" he yells as he hears Doffy's footsteps receding. "Wait! I'll-- I'll cancel the application!" 

The footsteps return. Then Doflamingo laughs. "You can't fool me like that," he says, still chuckling. "I'll give you the night to REALLY reflect on it."

His footsteps recede again and Law shudders out a breath. This is bad. 

He tries the door, pushing with all his strength, until his shoulder is freezing against the metal, but it doesn't budge. He tries pacing, but it's pitch dark in here. He breathes onto his hands for warmth.

He's so cold. So cold. It's been barely any time at all and he's already feeling desperate. Did Doffy lower the temperature? 

He wonders if the door is barricaded well enough that he should be worried about running out of air.

Squatting down, he tries to wrap his apron around himself, but even that is already freezing. it's wet, too, from a spill he'd been cleaning up. 

Law's thoughts drift against his will to home. He thinks about all he did to escape everything. How it wont have made a difference.

How he'll be found in the morning, how the newspapers will say that he is succeeded by no kin, because everyone else has been gone for two decades. 

He should've quit months ago. 

The thing is, is Law is so tired. He was already tired. And now he's cold, and it's dark.

And he knows he shouldn't go to sleep, but— it seems easier. It would be so much easier than having to deal with the numbness in his hands and feet, the way his eyelashes stick to his cheeks. 

But he knows he shouldn't. Knows he should be doing something.

And as a last ditch effort— he knows no one can hear him. Knows Doflamingo will laugh— as a last ditch effort he screams. 

He screams until his throat hurts. Screams until he's coughing from the cold. 

Wordless screams that draw the last of his strength, steal his warmth.

He falls into unconsciousness as the last of his breath is ripped from his cold lungs.

Darkness is welcoming. 

He floats in it. The cold is still there, but muted now. 

He had been so tired. For so long.

Suddenly, Law is pulled back to consciousness, painfully, like ripping a bandaid off of a wound. 

There's light in the walk-in. He feels it on his eyelids. When he cracks open his eyes, he's hit with blinding light. Is this heaven? If it is, it's pathetic.

But with the light comes a wave of warmth, not enough to help him, but enough for him to notice. 

And with the warmth comes arms, strong arms, roughly hoisting him around his middle, dragging him out and onto the blessedly warm tile floor of the back room.

"Traffy?" a voice says. "Traffy! Hey!" 

Someone slaps his face. 

"Fuck!" Law yells, putting a hand to his cheek. He still cant really feel anything in his fingers. The blindingly bright light is clearing enough that he can see the silhouette of someone standing over him.

GOD he hopes it's not Doflamingo. 

But that voice didn't SOUND like Doffy. 

"Traffy! You're alive! Do you have hypno thermia?" 

"Hypothermia," Law mumbles. "Who the fuck is Traffy?"

"That's what your nametag always says!" 

Law's nametag says Trafalgar. He knows it.

"How-- Where's Doflamingo?" 

"That tall guy who locked you in here?" 

Law's vision finally comes into focus and he startles at the sight of the regular with the straw hat. "Yeah," he says. "Him." 

"I dunno, I saw him leave a while ago." 

Law flexes his fingers in search of warmth

"What do you mean you saw him leave? Why are you here?" Are you a part of this? he doesn't say. 

Straw Hat doesn't look at all embarrassed when he says, "I was hiding in the bathroom. You guys never check it at the end of the night." 

Law gapes at him. "Why?" he asks.

"I dunno, I mean most places do and I was honestly surprised you guys don't, but--" 

"Not-- you do this a lot?"

Straw Hat grins. "Yeah! My roommate kicks me out whenever he wants to have sex, which is like every night at this point. So I've been sleeping here. Chairs're comfy."

Well that's. Better than it could be, honestly. 

Law tries to refocus. He probably IS hypothermic. What's he supposed to do for that? Body heat? 

"You said Doffy left?" he asks. 

Straw Hat nods. "Yeah! A while ago! It took me a bit to get all that stuff off of the door though. Like, he's strong! He pushed a whole refrigerator in front of it!" 

Dear lord, he really had been trying to kill Law. 

Shit. Doffy knows where Law lives. 

Law can't go home. 

"Anyway, I think you're hypno thermomic," Straw Hat says. "And you probably need, like, a hot bath."

Okay Law does know that will kill someone with hypothermia. He remembers that much. "I can't go home," he says, still trying to process. "He knows where I live." 

"Oh," says Straw Hat. "You can come home with me! My roommate is a cook, he'll help."

"Your roommate kicked you out to have sex," Law points out, dazedly. 

Straw Hat shrugs. "This is more important," he says, and like. Well Law can't argue with that. 

He tries to sit up and his limbs listen a little, but Straw Hat steadies him anyway.

"Not that I don't appreciate the help," Law says, "But I shouldn't just impose. I can-- I'll call my coworker, my phone's around here somewhere." 

"Oh," says Straw Hat. "Is that it?" 

He points to a spot on the floor where Law finds his phone. 

Smashed. 

Into several pieces.

He does NOT have the money for a new one. 

"Oh my god," he whines. 

"Come on," Straw Hat says. "Let's go to my place. We can build a fire!" 

"Do you have a fireplace?" 

"No!" 

Law still can't feel his hands or feet. "Listen," he says. "Just- why do you never drink your lattes?"

Shockingly, Straw Hat looks embarrassed at this, gaze shifting nervously. "Because," he says. "They're really gross." 

"Why do you get them, then?" Law demands. 

"The first time I came in, I asked what to get and you said a latte because you're good at hearts!"

Christ. Law has... no memory of that. 

Straw Hat crosses his arms, looking petulant. "It's not my fault they taste gross." 

Law's throat is raw and he's probably got frostbite on his penis like that prince. "I'll make you something you actually like," he says. "Next time."

Straw Hat perks up. "Next time?" 

"If I live through the night," Law adds. "And. Not next time here. I'm quitting this job." 

Straw Hat nods. "Good. That guy was mean, I think." 

Then, without informing Law of his plan, Straw Hat turns around and pulls him onto his back.

Everything in Law hurts at this, but he also doubts he could've walked wherever they're going. 

Straw Hat is shorter than him, but he's jarringly strong. 

"Hey," Law says. "If you murder me, I'll kill you." 

He feels Straw Hat laughing through his teeth.

The actual straw hat's brim is pushed up against Law's cheek. 

"Don't worry," Straw Hat says. "I want you to make me a better drink!" 

He carries Law across campus to a rickety old dorm. 

Law listens to him talking about all of his friends and also his favorite bugs.

He makes sure that Straw Hat does NOT draw him a hot bath or make a fire in the dorm, but he does accept skin-to-skin warmth, which does wonders. The hot tea made by his cranky roommate also helps. 

Tomorrow, he's going to have to press charges, probably. And get a new phone.

Tonight, he's sharing a bed with the weirdest guy he's ever met. 

Life is sort of okay.

[thegnomelord]

omg yes for the Ghost fic request you can do prompt 3 instead that would be great, thank you. some angst with a happy ending please

Sure thing dude, sorry this took so long, but a happy xmas to you lol My hyperfixation hyperfixated on this so it's a bit long and expositiony but I'm actually really happy with how this turned out :D Play the game HERE

Prompt: "Tell me how I’m supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me.”

CW: NSFW, subbot Ghost, domtop Mreader, angst, misunderstandings, gentle sex, making up kinda, confessions, fwb turned lovers, idiots in love,

Simon's apartment is a picture of painful domesticity; your muddy boots sit neatly next to his by the door, two mugs set next to the coffee maker, two toothbrushes left on the sink only a foot away from different shower products that have long since mixed together into one giant pile, and a dozen more little things that tell anyone with a cursory glance — 'yeah, two people live here'.

When people wonder why you practically live together when you're just casual, you both just say it's convenient (and ignore how fake your answers sound).

After all; Why leave after he's ridden you to both of your completions when you can just settle on the couch and share a drink over a movie? Why should you waste money on a cab to get back to your own flat when you two can just tumble into bed? Why should Simon wake up to an empty and cold flat when he can do so in your arms, your steady heartbeat remind him you're both alive? Why leave in the morning and miss one of the few times Simon's fully relaxed when you can have a lazy morning, laying in bed and enjoying each other's company until the sun's high in the sky?

Why leave at all?

. . . Simon treasures every moment with you as much as he hates it, every second in your presence like a pretty hummingbird singing sweetly in his ear while it drills holes into his skull. Absolute Hell. Utter bliss.

He knows he doesn't deserve you. Knows you don't deserve to have a living corpse crawl back into your arms every night, nothing but a stranger with Simon's face. But you two have known each other so long it's impossible to let you go.

You met as toddlers when you'd nicked his toy, refusing to give it back until he agreed to play with you, and you've been stuck at the hip since. You two were each other's first kiss, fumbling behind the school bleachers, eager and sloppy like inexperienced lads are. First set of blooming hickeys along his collarbones, Simon's ma giving him a knowing look when she'd noticed it amongst the other bruises her no good husband had left on him. First fuck, quick and rough in a dark janitor closet during basic training, burning with need and heat. First—

. . . Simon doesn't know when the word 'Love' first registered in his brain. Maybe when you tore up heaven and hell looking for him. Maybe when you stuck by him when he did his best to scare you off, all rough words and teeth, unable to form one nice word when violence and revenge was all that was left in his head.

He doesn't know when he registered the word. Only that he looks at you whenever you do something mundane and thinks 'yeah. Love. That fits.'

But love has no place in. . . whatever this is. Hell, he's the one who'd set the ground rule when you two were young and dumb, reaffirming it after he'd come back as Ghost. And you'd never fought against it, agreeing to just be fucking casual, there's no way you want anything more than this. He doesn't want to cock it up, doesn't want to take more from you than he's already done, so he swallows all he feels and ignores how it burns his throat, going day by day like nothing's changed.

He wakes in your arms, deeply ingrained training waking him before dawn but the heat of your body keeps him rooted in place. Distantly he can still feel the cold tight confines of that coffin, of maggots wriggling on his skin, but memories of that nightmare float away before his traitorous mind can latch on to them. He lays in bed, head firmly on your chest so he can hear you, see you breathe. Morning comes too soon and you rouse awake, laying a sweet kiss on his forehead before getting out of bed to set the kettle on.

It's domestic.

It's painful.

. . .

You love how Simon looks. You especially love how he looks in his civies, freed of his armor and no longer needing to be guarded at all times, shoulders relaxed and mindlessly looking around as you talk while you browse the store. He's still gruff, and sarcastic, but you love that about him. You loved him long before he said not to tangle emotions in your meaningless bliss and long after he'd come back as Ghost, each unknown scar on his body taking a chip out of your heart.

And you respect his choice. You'll take what you can get and won't give it up even after your corpse has grown cold, hoping that will be enough to drown out the neediness of your heart. You lost him once and it had nearly killed you, you can't lose him again. . .

God, you're pathetic for him.

You meet miss Betty on your way back from the shop. She's your neighbor a few doors down, a sweet old lady who waters your plants when you and Simon are called back into action. You see her struggling with her bags so you hand your own to Simon so you can help her, "Hold this, please?"

"Only because you asked nicely." Simon huffs, but takes the bag without further complaint, walking behind you as you help miss Betty with her shopping, content to listen to you two talk about who knows what. It still amazes him how you've managed to charm all the neighbors Simon rarely spoke to.

"Oh, thank you deary." Miss Betty says as you put her shopping next to her door, holding onto your arm for support. "It's so nice to have a helpful person around here."

"It's not a problem ma'am." You say with a small smile, and fuck if Simon's heart doesn't beat a bit faster at the sight.

"You know," Miss Betty begins. "My grandson's been eyeing you up. And I can see why, you're such a strapping young man."

You feel Simon's gaze fall on you like a dagger, cold, hard, expectant. You try to think of what to say but your words fail you, because while you and Simon aren't in a relationship you can't picture yourself be with anyone else. "I-"

"Oh don't worry deary, I told him he was barking up the wrong tree." Miss Betty cuts you off by giggling like a school girl, "I wouldn't want to separate you two love birds."

The words burning on your tongue escape you before you can filter them. "Yeah, I doubt I could love anyone other than Simon." You clear your throat after, feeling his eyes on you.

Miss Betty just coos. "Oh, to be young and in love." Then she turns, waving her walking stick at Simon like he's an annoying pigeon that flew into her house. "You better treat him properly you big oaf, he's good for you."

Oh, Simon knows. Knows you're too good for him. But all he lets out is a small grunt, and you can't help the surprised laugh that escapes you.

You don't think of what you say next, so far away from a warzone your defenses are lowered. "No need to worry ma'am, he's the love of my life and I can assure you he treats me very well."

There's that word again, and the way it leaves your lips has Simon's heart skipping a beat. Fuck, Simon wants to hear you say it until he's deaf. Wants to hold your jaw closed so you don't speak again and stop making him feel this. Wants to pull you close and throw you out of the window at the same time. Wants— . . . he doesn't know what he wants.

"Oh, well I won't hold you up any more dears." Miss Betty says, patting you on the arm before shuffling back to her apartment with her shopping.

There's an uncomfortable silence between you two while you get back to Simon's flat, neither one of you sure what to say about the damn elephant in the room. You take the bags you'd given him, your back to him as you put them on the counter.

Acting like nothing's wrong. Nothing's changed.

But it has.

"An' you say my heart's rotten." Simon grunts, gruff and harsh, too many thoughts brewing in his head to properly say what he's thinking.

You turn to him, surprise obvious on your face. "What?"

"Lyin' to old ladies." His jaw is tense behind his face mask, which you note he hadn't taken off when the front door had closed, back to being guarded around you, something between Simon and Ghost. "Granted, it was convincing. What, did you take some creative writing lessons from Laswell?"

You stare at him for a few seconds, then you feel your jaw tense as well. "Christ, Simon, what are you on about?" You growl, stomping over to him.

His shoulders tense as you approach, but the scent of your cologne calms his body without his mind's input. "Can't love anyone but me?" He asks, something cold and slimy settling in your stomach when you realize he's repeating your words. "Love of your life am I?" Simon scoffs, the skin around his eyes moving in a sardonic smirk. "You're full of shite."

He doesn't know who he's trying to convince here.

You know you should brush it off, go along and say it was just a joke. Say anything that won't clue him in to your real feelings. Hell, not even saying a thing would be good.

But you just have to open your mouth.

"I wasn't lying about that Simon." You say suddenly, open, honest, your eyes meeting his.

Silence stretches long enough to have your nerves crackle with static, your body needing something instead of the nothing he gives you. Then Simon lets out a short, dry laugh, like your words are just a joke.

"Quit it." He huffs, doesn't meet your eyes because looking at you and entertaining the idea that he could have something more with you fucking hurts. "'m not up for your focking jokes." He grows, turning to leave,

Something inside you makes you move before your mind can comprehend it, grabbing his hand to stop him, "Simon I love you damn it!"

Your words are like a slap to the face for him. Simon freezes like a cornered deer, thousands of thoughts darkening his eyes, brows furrowed like he doesn't know whether to be angry or not. "But we—'

"—we agreed, I know. I fucking know." You hiss and damn it you can feel tears prickle your eyes like needles, "But I fucking love you, been in love with you for years and I know we agreed not to but—" You're babbling now, each word leaving your chest feeling raw like an open wound, the weight on your shoulders lessening but it only draws the noose tighter. "—just tell me how I'm supposed to un-love you, then. Tell me. Spare me."

Silence greets you as you stare into his eyes, that same static gnawing on your nerves the longer he just looks at you without a word, searching for something in your eyes he expects not to find.

But he does.

He spares you, pulls you by the clothes so his lips can crash onto yours, holding you close like you'll disappear. The kiss is sloppy and desperate just as it had been when you'd been hiding behind the school bleachers, all teeth and tongue and care.

Eventually the need for air breaks you two apart, but Simon refuses to let you go far. His rough hands hug you close as he rests his forehead against yours, pupils blown wide. ". . .love me, huh?" He says under his breath, as if he can't believe it.

"Yeah." You breathe out and wrap your own arms around him till there's not an inch of space between your chests, hearts beating fast like war drums but in such a rhythm you'd be fooled to think you share one. "Do you?"

Simon swallows, his throat dry, but the words slide smoothly off his tongue. "Yeah." He says, letting you pull him back into a kiss. It's sweeter this time, calmer, no longer rushing to feel the other. He melts against you, a low sound building in his throat as the sensations of you wrap his mind in silk, the taste, the feel, the scent, all of it making his mind fuzzy. All his now.

You lose track of time, stealing gulps of air between kisses as your minds drown in the other, your bodies moving on their own. You don't know how you end up in the bed but you do, your skin prickling with goosebumps as Simon's body presses against your own.

You part to catch your breath, Simon's head falling back on the pillow with your name leaving his lips like a prayer. He's underneath you, eyes hooded and short hair ruffled, and while usually he'd push you back and wrestle for control, this time he just melts into the sheets, lets you do as you want.

"Fuck-" Simon growls as you kiss down his neck, his blunt nails scratching your scalp as reward for the little hickeys you leave on his throat. Your hands roam across his body, leaving lingering trails of burning heat. "Love, please hurry up." He breathes out, cock already rock hard from just a few kisses and heavy touches.

"Right," You say, because that's all your brain can conjure up at the moment. Blindly reaching for the lube you trail kisses down his front, your lips tracing every scar along the way, his legs easily parting so you can settle between them. You can't help but look him over again, all relaxed and eager for you, chest rising and falling like he's a racehorse. "God you're fucking pretty."

A deep flush spreads from Simon's ears down to his hickey marked shoulders, a little smile tugging on the corner of his lip. "Just pretty?"

"Beautiful." You breathe out against his abdomen, rubbing your fingers together to warm the lube. "So handsome." You don't miss how his cock twitches, your lips following his happy trail. "Charming." You hum against the tip of his cock, tongue lolling out to lick at his slit. "Bloody bewitching." His hips buck into your mouth as your fingers slowly circle his puckered rim, putting just a bit of pressure at first. "Irresistible." His body yields, the tense muscles of his rim going lax and letting you slide a finger in.

A low and long groan escapes his chest, eyes fluttering shut as he savors the stretch, tight walls clenching in the rhythm of his breaths. "Read a dictionary, did you?" Simon smirks, heart warm and floaty at the way you wait for him to relax after the intrusion before you move, at the way you look at him when your exploring finger brushes his prostate and makes him moan. "Such a focking charmer."

"Just for you." You chuckle, lightly sucking on his cockhead to make him forget about the lingering pain, your ears pricked to hear every little groan and unabashed moan leaving his lips. "Can you handle two?" You ask, your second finger resting against his rim without trying to push in.

He growls like an animal and pushes his hips down on your hand, "You're sleeping on the couch if you don't hurry up." He warns at your question, his harsh glare softened by the heavy flush across his face and his hooded eyes.

"Not the dog house." You say in mock fear, swallowing his leaking cock a third of the way down in one go as you push your second finger in, your thumb rubbing the space between his balls and ass so his prostate is trapped on both ends.

"Shite-" Simon's hips twitch up, beads of precum painting your tongue as his legs spread open more. "-you wanker." His insult is light, head rolling back as he grounds his hips down in an attempt to chase after that spine numbing pleasure your fingers bring.

Pulling back enough to murmur "Love you too." against his tip you take him into your mouth again. You can't measure how good it feels to say those words honestly instead of sarcastically, your own arousal forgotten as you work him open on your fingers, the constant pressure on his prostate making a small stream of precum bead down your throat.

Simon floats in heaven for, he doesn't know how long, the pleasure making his brain melt through his dick, unable to stop the soft sounds escaping his throat. He cracks an eye open when the tightness in his stomach becomes apparent, barely able to stave off his orgasm when he sees his cock throbbing between your lips.

Your name comes out slurred as he tugs on your hair, "Need you. Now." A little bit of his usual demanding nature comes out, but even then it's born out of desperation to feel you rather than the need to be in control.

You let him pull you off his cock, placing gentle kisses on his thick thighs as you pull your fingers out of his stretched hole. "You have me."

You go to grab a condom but he stops you, too aroused to be embarrassed by his eagerness. "You don't- my physical, I'm clean. If you want, I mean-"

You furrow your brows, your chest tight with how big your heart feels. You could never hide how sick you'd feel at the thought of Simon being intimate with someone else, even when you'd never agreed to be exclusive. "We did physicals nearly three months ago, you haven't. . .?"

He shakes his head, "No," Suddenly he tenses up, his jaw tight like he's expecting bad news. "Have you?" His tone isn't judgmental, but you can hear the edge of hurt.

"No. No. No!" Quick to dispel his thoughts you lean over to kiss him like he's a bout of fresh air and you've been drowning for years. It's not too far from the truth. "You're the only one I've ever. . .done that with." You murmur against his lips, earning yourself another kiss as he pulls down by a hand on the back of your neck.

"Good." Simon tuts, proud, hiking one leg around your waist to pull you closer, your cocks rubbing together. "Fuck me already." He grumbles, his strong arms wrapped around your neck.

"Right, yeah." Despite how many times you've done this suddenly you feel like a fucking virgin, your hands trembling slightly as you lube up your cock. You press the tip against his slick hole, forcing you to bite your lip as you start to push your hips. "Just relax, yeah?"

"Yeah." Simon breathes out, feeling pressure of your cockhead against his hole. You both groan when your cockhead pops inside him, your lips on his making him forget about the lingering sting. "Shite, so good for me." Simon hums, looking at you with hooded eyes. Usually he relishes the sting and burn sex with you brings, but he's so loose and lubed the pain is barely a prickle at the back of his skull and he finds himself getting addicted to the unfiltered pressure and weight of your cock inside him.

"Simon," You say, clenching your teeth as you try to keep still so he can get used to you, holding his hips for dear life. "Can I- please I need."

"Focking move it," He nods his head, his head rolling back from the sensation of you moving inside him, your cock brushing against his walls as you push inside him inch by inch until you're fully inside him.

Your nerves a live wire from how tight and hot his hole is, forcing you to rest your head on the pillow next to his as you try to gather your self-control; you'll be damned if you cum before him.

"I'm good." Simon tugs on your scalp, your lips meeting in a lopsided kiss. You pull away to rest your forehead against his, his eyes blown wide and hooded, something about this position so intimate it melts your heart. "Hurry up, 'm not going to last long." He confesses, his walls clenching down on your length.

Words escape you so you just nod your head, slowly pulling your hips back before pushing back in, Simon meeting you half way so your cock can lay consistent pressure on his prostate. You two move like one, your senses full of sex and heat, your ears ringing with Simon's low moans and groans. Moving your hand down you stroke him in time with your thrusts, earning yourself even more moans. Usually Simon's so quiet in bed, but now he lets it all out so freely, low growls and huffs and small 'ah, ah, ah's breathed into your ear with every small movement of your hips.

Your pace picks up as your orgasm approaches, your cock bashing against his prostate with all the subtlety of a tank. "Shite-" Simon throws his head back to moan, leaving his throat open for your teeth to lay even more hickeys. "-I, fuck, yeah, that's the spot- just- I need-" His voice turns higher pitched and needy, his body moving with the force of your thrusts, powerful arms pulling you even closer so his teeth can clamp down on your shoulder.

Simon cums with a shout that's muffled into the meat of your shoulder, whole body shaking like a leaf in the wind as he paints both of your stomach's white with his cum, his hole clenching down and pulling you along with him. You cum inside him and moan, collapsing on top of him, completely exhausted.

The silence of the bedroom is broken up by your haggard breathing, both of your bodies sweaty and hot. You tilt your head just enough to catch the way Simon looks at you, like a content cat that knows he's safe, and shit if that doesn't melt your heart, nothing will.

"God, that was something else." You say to break the silence, trying to pull out when you feel yourself soften but your attempts are stopped quickly, Simon grumbling something under his breath as he hugs you closer. "What?" You ask.

He throws a light glare your way, but his eyelids droop with exhaustion. "Don't." He says, relaxing when you stop what you're doing. "Want to feel you." He says; it's the most intelligent thing his mind can conjure up right now.

A gentle smile tugs on your lips. "Right." You lean down to share another kiss with him, this one sweet and slow, his tongue gently liking your lips as a way to ask for entrance— why rush when you've got all the time in the world?

The exhaustion weighing on your bones and Simon saccharine kisses lull you to sleep soon enough, your body like a weighted blanket on top of him. "Love you," You mumble just before your eyes close.

Simon fights against his own fatigue for a few more minutes, relishing the feeling of being connected in such a primal way, with you in him and around him. He takes in your sleeping face with blurry eyes.

Yeah. Love. That fits.

[moonstruckme]

hiii! idk if i already requested this because I'm very forgetful but do you think you could do a tasm!peter fic with a bit of hurt/comfort? maybe r's just really burnt out and tired from school and studying and stress? thank u sm <3 i adore your work

No worries dude, you didn't! Thanks sm for requesting <33

tasm!Peter Parker x fem!reader ♡ 681 words

Peter sets your coffee down in front of you with a kiss to the top of your head. You raise it to your lips on autopilot, blowing gently. 

“Thanks,” you murmur. 

“No sweat.” His hand lingers on your shoulder. Instead of going back to his video game, he leans down to peer at your laptop screen. “Hey, this isn’t Jane Austen.” 

“No,” you confirm. Ordinarily, this is where you’d think up something witty to say. Like you would know the difference, science geek or I didn’t know you knew how to read words that didn’t end in -ion. You find you don’t have the energy. “I turned in the Austen essay earlier today. This one’s for my Flannery O’Connor class.” 

“What?” Peter’s voice pitches upward excitedly. He tugs your shoulder so you’re facing him, crowding your eyeline. “Baby, that’s amazing! You’re done!”

“I’m not done,” you say, covering your disappointment with a shrug and a small smile. “I still have this essay due by the end of the week.” 

“But you’re done with the Austen one!” Your boyfriend won’t allow his ebullience to be dampened, giving your shoulder a happy squeeze. “You worked on that for days, sweetheart, it must feel so great to have it turned in.”

You take another sip of your coffee, refocusing on the blinking cursor on your screen. Your eyes ache. “Yeah, I guess so.” 

“Hey.” Peter’s hand cuts across your vision, turning your face back towards him. “You deserve to celebrate at least a little, don’t you think? How long do you have until this essay is due?” 

“A couple days.” 

“Sick.” His touch leaves your cheek, and you hear the click of your laptop shutting. “Take the night off.” 

“Peter.” Your sigh is long and heavy. You swear you feel some essential part of you leave with it. “I can’t. I need to get this done.” 

He works his hand between your back and the desk chair, encouraging you out of it. “You’ve got plenty of time to do it,” he reassures you, palm finding its favored spot on the small of your back to guide you towards the sofa. “I felt weird about giving you coffee at night anyways. We’ll switch it out for some tea, get cozy on the couch, just take it easy for the night. You could use a break.” 

You really could, but you’re not sure you can afford one. You cast a glance back toward your laptop, abandoned and beckoning with a cold imperativeness from your desk. “Let me just get this paragraph down…” 

But Peter is determined, setting one hand on each of your shoulders to push you down onto the cushions. “It’ll still be there tomorrow,” he says, sitting next to you and settling you against his side before you can try to get up. He tilts his head as he meets your gaze, brown eyes sharp and more discerning than you think you’re comfortable with. “Look, I wasn’t gonna pull this card, but you’re not acting like yourself. This whole quiet and ghostlike thing is freaking me out.” 

He turns up a corner of his mouth to let you know he’s at least partly joking. You crack a smile in return. Peter pecks your cheek and goes on, encouraged. 

“Just give me tonight, sweetheart. If you wanna go back to Flannery at nine tomorrow morning, I won’t stop you, but give yourself at least a few hours off.” 

You shouldn’t be surprised he’d remembered which class your essay was for, but you are. You suspect that if you looked hard enough, you’d eventually find an encyclopedia your boyfriend has filled with tiny things to remember about you. It’s the only explanation. 

You really are tired. 

“Okay,” you say, and he actually fist-pumps, your favorite dork. “Just let me make the tea, okay? You never steep it long enough.” 

Peter rolls his eyes, smiling as he kisses the skin next to your eye. “Such a perfectionist,” he says fondly. “How about I make us hot chocolate instead, and then you won’t have to worry about it?” 

[lowkeychenle]

Irrevocably [ZCL] (2)

Description: His decision has been made, but sometimes even Zhong Chenle can question his choices...

A/N: Thanks to popular demand, we have part two! I'm thinking this will be a three-parter. Do let me know if you would like a new one.

Genre: Angst, smut (no real sex but like smutty enough ig)

Content Warnings: Chenle is manipulative as hell in this!!! he is not a good guy in this fic!!! Do not read if you don't like it!!!!! This has gone into infidelity territory. Chenle is a bad dude in here, but the reader becomes a lil manipulative too. it's dramatic okay?

Word Count: 4,677

Pairing: Zhong Chenle x Reader | Mark Lee x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Juliet's Masterlist | Requests

Not hearing from Chenle for a while hurt, but you expected after he left. You knew better than to assume your spot in his life anymore, and when you heard from Mark that Chenle and his girlfriend had gotten back together, it stung more than you thought it would.

You had nowhere to direct your anger. After all, you had no real reason to be angry in the first place. Chenle never promised you anything. He never once said he wanted to be with you in any other way besides what you already had.

Embarrassingly enough, you’d tried to reach out to him. None of your messages went through, not even making it to the ‘delivered’ status.

“So, he came over to see you, screwed you, and then left you in the morning after she called?” Mark raises his eyebrows, blinking in surprise. He sits on the floor between your couch and the coffee table.

“So eloquently put.” You roll your eyes. Sighing, you lean back against the cushion. “But yeah, that’s what happened. And now he has me blocked on everything.”

“I guess I’m just confused,” Mark says. “Why would he do that?”

You grab a decorative throw pillow and cover your face with it. “This is Chenle we’re talking about. I stopped asking about motives a long time ago.”

“Was he like this before?”

“No.” Your chest deflates. “Honestly, he used to be a really good friend, even when we were…you know. Are you mad that I slept with him?”

“Why would I be mad?” He frowns. “I mean, you know I like you. But I’m not gonna tell you what you can and cannot do with your body just because of that. If we were exclusive, it’d be different.”

“I almost stopped him. He’s just…familiar, if that makes sense.” Your cheeks heat up as you bite your tongue to stop yourself from continuing. The last thing you need to do is make any of this worse.

“I think we all have that person we’re weak for.” Mark gives you a half smile. “I get it.”

You cradle your pillow in your lap and rest your head in your palms. “This is probably the last thing you want to talk about.”

“I’ve had more favorable conversations,” he agrees. “And…if you don’t want something with me, that’s fine, you know? You just gotta be honest with me.”

The stark contrast between him and Chenle almost makes you question everything. Mark treats you the way you’re meant to be treated—kindly, with respect, like you matter. Chenle, on the other hand? He was nice to you when sex wasn’t involved…for the most part.

Back before he’d met his girlfriend, he was as close to perfect as he could get. He was respectful of you, he didn’t push your boundaries, he took care of you. Now it was manipulation and heartache and lies. Chenle lied to you. He said he missed you, that all he thought about when he was with her was you, and you couldn’t even try to believe that anymore. It made no sense.

Actions speak louder than words.

But if Mark is perfect, why the hell are you still thinking about Chenle?

“I can do that.” You sit there for a moment, contemplating what you’re even going to say to make any of this better. “I…I like you, but I like him, too.”

“So it wasn’t just sex.” Mark tries to understand, confusion plastered across his face.

“It was. But when he was here the other night, I kind of realized I didn’t think that way anymore. Everything he said to me…It just doesn’t feel fake, I guess.” You fidget with your fingers, unsure of why you’re giving so much detail to him.

“That changes things a little bit.” He shifts, resting one of his arms on his knee. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m still not mad. But I think you need to figure things out. I’m not okay with being a second choice, (Y/N). And I hope you know you deserve better than the bullshit he’s been putting you through.”

“I’m trying,” you tell him.

“Right.” He stands, brushing his jeans off. “Do me a favor and call me when you figure things out, okay?”

“I–”

“It’s alright. I’ll talk to you later.”

You can’t even get another word out before Mark is out of the door. Shock courses through you, and you wonder if you made a mistake by telling him about your feelings for Chenle. Yes, his actions have been questionable lately, but that’s not the Chenle you knew. The Chenle you knew is the sort of guy who falls on the floor laughing, the over competitive to a fault sort, and whoever the hell left your apartment that night was not him.

Fantastic. Now you don’t have Mark, either.

The rest of the day is spent sitting in the exact same spot. You try to find something to keep you occupied, but without hearing from Mark, your phone is drier than the Sahara desert. Not to mention nothing seems interesting to you anymore. Staring at the ceiling has become quite the hobby.

You didn’t realize how often you spoke with Chenle until he was gone from your life completely. The two of you used to text constantly, not about anything in particular. Feeling the lack of his company hurts deep in your soul, in a way that shakes you to your core.

When you head into your kitchen to throw a bag of popcorn into the microwave, you don’t even get the bag out of the plastic before you hear a knock. Frowning, you check around to see if Mark had left anything, and maybe it was him coming back for it.

You don’t find anything, but you walk over and throw the door open. Everything inside you shifts, the blood apparently draining from your body at the sight of Chenle standing in your doorframe.

You barely even have a second to think before he’s lunging forward, a hand grasping the small of your back as he leads you back into your apartment and kisses you like his life depends on it. Shock courses through you, and by the time he’s pulling away, you’re at a loss for words.

You should be mad at him. You should push him away and ask him why the fuck he’s suddenly back.

Except that’s no longer on your mind when you catch the look in his eyes. You quickly realize Mark was right—everyone has someone they’re weak for, and for you? It’s Chenle. His chest heaves from the abruptness of the kiss, his tongue darting out to wet his full lips.

“God, I need you so fucking bad right now,” he groans, pulling you flush against him.

You don’t question it. In your mind, this means his girlfriend must’ve left again. She no longer exists in your mind. Chenle would never do that to someone.

“I saw him leave,” Chenle whispers, trailing his lips down your neck to where it meets your shoulder. “Every time I see him with you, I want to kill him.”

“Chenle, I—”

“You like getting me strung up like this, huh?” He nips your skin. “I hate thinking about anyone else fucking you.”

Your world spins around you, and you’re half-convinced this is a dream, but you feed into it regardless. You’ve craved him the entirety of his absence, so if this is all in your head, you’ll thank yourself when you wake up.

“You can’t leave again,” you say, tangling your fingers in his hair.

“I won’t, baby,” he hums, resting his forehead on yours. “Can’t stay away from you.”

You tug him back to you, mouths smashing together. Every logical thought you’ve ever had has quickly exited, leaving you alone with a next to primal desire for the man before you. When you pull on his hair, he moans into your kiss, sending excited chills up and down your spine.

Remembering Mark briefly, you push Chenle away, turning toward your kitchen and aching for oxygen. You hate the way you want to forget the past two weeks. Like everything he’s done to you doesn’t matter anymore because he suddenly wants you again.

It’s not okay. You know it’s not, but somehow, it’s not enough to change your mind. You have to distance yourself from him, or every ounce of self-respect you’ve ever had gets flushed down the drain.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” Irritation tinges his voice.

“Better question,” you say, pointing an accusing finger at him. “Where the hell have you been?”

His eyebrows pinch, creasing his forehead. You swear you see a hint of guilt, but it disappears from your view when he turns his head.

“You think you can disappear for weeks and then when you show up at my door, I’ll just drop my pants for you?”

“That’s not what I said,” he replies with a scoff. “I don’t know what I was thinking, okay? I saw you and it just…I need you.”

“No.” You shake your head. “You don’t get to do that anymore.”

“What the hell is your problem?” Chenle’s voice raises. “You were never like this before.”

You freeze, a laugh of disbelief escaping your lips as you slap a hand over your mouth. “I’m the one that’s different?”

A shaky breath follows, and then you break into a psychotic laughing fit, gripping onto the counter as actual tears well in your eyes as you try to regain your composure.

“Your girlfriend broke up with you because you left pictures of me in your phone,” you remind him. “And then your first response was to come to my house and tell me how much you missed me and how much you need me, but then you went running back to her the second she was willing to talk about it.”

“That’s—”

“I’m not done,” you snap. Your fury grows, and red clouds your vision. “I warned you. I warned you she would make you choose, and you left without any hesitation. And I haven’t heard from you this whole time, so what the hell was I supposed to think?”

“Are you done now?” He narrows his eyes at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

You run your tongue over your teeth, nodding slowly. “You know what? Yeah. I am. Get out, Chenle.”

“Hey, that’s not what I meant—” He takes a step forward, and you take a matching one backward.

“Does she know you’re here?” You raise your eyebrows. “If I texted you right now, would I still be blocked?”

Chenle glances up at the ceiling. He doesn’t even need to tell you the answer—you already know.

“Oh, my God.” You stumble a little further back. “You just barged into my apartment, tried to get with me, and you’re still with her?”

“It’s not like that.”

“Oh, then please do enlighten me. How is it?”

“Why do you have to do this right now?” he asks, tugging his fingers through his hair as he turns away.

You don’t know him anymore. That much is clear to you—you will never be his, he will never be yours. Nothing about this situation is going to work, not that you ever truly thought it would in the first place. Could you really even be mad at him? You knew what you were getting yourself into when everything started.

“What do you feel about me?” you ask, folding your arms over your chest.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he shoots back, recoiling.

“Am I even your friend anymore?” You scoff. “Be fucking serious right now, do you see me as anything other than an easy fuck?”

“There’s nothing exactly easy about you, (Y/N).” He narrows his eyes at you. “I’m not letting you go.”

“Your girlfriend doesn’t want you here, Chenle.” You try to stay as cool as possible, letting your anger dissipate. “If you’re not going to leave her, you need to leave me. She made you pick, and now I am, too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Clearly.” 

“Not really sure where this fucking ego came from, but I don’t even know you anymore.” He shakes his head, turning away from you.

“Yeah,” you agree. “You’re too busy saving face in a relationship you’re clearly not too attached to. Does she not fuck you good enough?”

His silence is all you need. You imagine the way he closes his eyes, like his emotions are becoming too much for him.

“Or, I bet she hasn’t touched you at all since you got back together. Poor Chenle, can’t stand not getting his dick wet for a fucking month. You realize you’re doing exactly what she expects you not to do?”

“Yeah, because you’re such a saint, right?” He lets out a bitter laugh. “Hanging out with Mark and leading him on when I’m clearly the one you want.”

“If you don’t leave, I’m calling your girlfriend to come get you,” you threaten him, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’re gonna regret this,” he says.

“I don’t think I will.”

He leaves you alone, and all you can do is crumble to the floor when he shuts the door behind him. You trace over your lips, guilt sinking in at the thought of kissing Chenle when his girlfriend already thinks so low of you. How could you do this to her? She never did anything wrong to you.

As much as you know it’ll hurt, you steel your resolve. You deserve better, and this is exactly what you needed to catapult you toward Mark. He’ll be good to you, and eventually, you’ll get over Chenle. Hopefully, it’s not at Mark’s expense.

Jaemin was throwing a party. He invited Mark, who obviously decided he would take you. It’d been almost a month since Chenle burst into your apartment, so you figured you would be mostly over him in case he decided to show up at the same place.

Jaemin’s place was huge—hence why he’s always the host of these parties. The three story home is like a mansion, complete with dozens of empty rooms upstairs and vast space on the downstairs level for hundreds of people.

By the time you and Mark arrive, it’s already full. There are a few separate living rooms with giant couches, and random chairs strewn about for extra seating arrangements. Jaemin’s group usually sticks together. Years ago, when Chenle originally met them, he was the one who introduced you to the group. Everyone understood the dire situation between the two of you, but no one except Mark knew the full truth.

Since Chenle’s not there when you and Mark sit down, you hope that means he’s not coming at all.

Your relationship with Mark has gone well. You agreed to make it official, and the two of you proceeded to do normal relationship things. Even though you still have yet to sleep with him, you’ve done other things, and you were enjoying the slow pace you were taking. It was a nice contrast to the way things were with Chenle.

You sit on Mark’s lap, dropping your head into his neck while you laugh at something Jaemin said from across the room. His hands are latched around you firmly.

“No, that’s not even how that happened, dude.” Mark shakes his head, excitedly pointing at Jeno. “That motherfucker is just faster than me, okay? How was I supposed to know that?”

“You can just say you suck at sports,” Jeno retorts, grinning as he sips his drink.

Jisung stands from the other end of the couch. “Chenle’s here, gonna go grab him.”

You tense, and even though Mark feels it, you hope it’s not obvious to everyone else. Your boyfriend’s grip tightens on you, and he rubs his thumb on your hip in an attempt to comfort you. This’ll be the first time you’ve seen Chenle in a while, and you have no doubt in your mind that his girlfriend will be here too. You’ve met her plenty of times, but now it was different. She won. And she knows it, too.

“Are you okay?” Mark whispers in your ear. “We can do something else if you don’t want to be around him.”

“I’ll be fine.” You run your fingers through his hair and smile at him. “Thank you, though.”

“You sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be? You know I don’t want him anymore.” You cup his cheeks and press a quick kiss to his lips. “You’re all I need and more.”

“Let me know if you change your mind. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He squeezes you once, and then the two of you return to your conversation with Jaemin and Jeno.

Renjun brings drinks for everyone, and you gratefully accept yours. As you tip the cup to your lips, three figures make their way through the darkness and into their spots on the couch. Jisung, Chenle, and his girlfriend.

She sits between him and Jisung, leaving Chenle only a few feet away from you. You make brief eye contact, and the only acknowledgement he gives you is a quick raise of his brows. His gaze sweeps over how you’re positioned on Mark, and you’re almost certain you see a scowl on his face right before he sits.

He rests against the cushion, crossing his legs before he puts his arm around his girlfriend and tugs her close to him. She doesn’t even seem to notice your existence, and you feel hate bubble in your gut at the thought of them being happy together.

Mark pokes your side, making you laugh as you curl further into him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, grabbing his hand. “You know I’m ticklish.”

“I just like touching you.” He winks and takes a large sip of his drink.

“You’re pretty good at it, too.” You watch the smile on his face widen, and only when Jaemin says your name, are you shaken away from Mark.

“(Y/N), last time I had a party, didn’t you and Chenle get so drunk that you convinced him to dance on top of the pool table?” Jaemin’s voice is filled with laughter at the memory. “Guys, he wouldn’t get down. She had to go up there and try to get him down. They’re fucking crazy together. Makes a party.”

“Ah, yes, too bad you got rid of the pool table.” You set your drink down and shuffle on Mark’s lap.

Jaemin frowns. “No, I didn’t—”

“I’m sure you’ve got better stories than that trainwreck,” Chenle joins in.

You’ve been doing relatively well. Honestly, you thought you were making decent progress in getting over Chenle, but his words still sink into your gut and churn there until it turns into anger.

How can you make him hurt the same way he’s hurt you?

A plan forms in your mind, and you hide your smirk with your drink. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch the way his girlfriend is staring at you. Her gaze drags over you as if she’s assessing which parts of you Chenle ever liked.

Well, it’s not like she hasn’t seen them. He only kept them saved for a year.

Time for you to put on a show. You want to piss them both off, and you know exactly how you can do just that.

You lean in to whisper in Mark’s ear. “Does this make you uncomfortable?”

“No, of course not.” He pulls away to look at your face. “You know it doesn’t.”

“Good. Then you know that I want you.”

He smirks. “Keep squirming this much, and you’ll know how much I want you, too.”

Mark gets a little more confident when he drinks, and you enjoy it. He reaches down and squeezes your ass quickly, but all that does is make you move more. The two of you laugh together, and he leans forward like he’s going to kiss you.

“Yo, if you two are gonna fuck, can you at least take it upstairs?” Jaemin throws his empty cup at the two of you, but since it’s a red solo cup, it ends up barely making it half the distance.

Mark’s lips brush your ear. “Kinda like the sound of that.”

You can’t even hide the shiver that runs down your spine. Instead of answering, you slide off his lap and hold your hand out to him. He gets up quickly and wraps his arm around your waist and tugs your back to his front before placing a kiss on your neck. The other boys whoop and holler as he guides you toward the stairs, both of you giggling the entire way.

You look over your shoulder, giggles fading when you catch the glare on Chenle’s face. If looks could kill, you’re sure both you and Mark would be eviscerated by now. He’s almost taunting you, daring you to move forward and go upstairs with Mark. Chenle’s girlfriend is scowling for a different reason, irritation plastered on her face while her arms are crossed over her chest.

After a few seconds like that, Chenle disappears from your view as Mark hand dips to squeeze your ass again. You intertwine your fingers with his and lead him all the way to the end of the hall. The door is unlocked, and the room is empty, so you close it behind you.

Mark smiles as you wrap your arms over his shoulders. You barely take time to appreciate it before you press your lips to his. He hums against your mouth. He walks you backwards, hands on your butt, until the back of your knees hit the mattress.

“You’re sure this is okay?” he mutters, gently kissing down your neck. “I’ve wanted to fuck you for so long.”

Your breath shudders, and you nod. “It’s more than okay.” You refuse to waste anymore time. Reaching beneath his shirt, you nudge it up his body.

He pulls it off in a swift motion, allowing you time to trace your fingers along his muscles. You push him onto the bed, and he backs up until he’s sitting against the headboard. Without hesitation, you join him in taking your shirt off. The lace of your bra is practically non-existent, but he gulps as you climb on top of him.

You guide his hands to your breasts, sighing when he squeezes them. Grinding down on him, you hold onto his shoulders. You feel his hardness through his shorts, and you lunge forward to kiss him. His tongue battles with yours, and you start to slowly lift yourself from his lap and sink back down as if you were riding his cock. Groaning, he kisses you harder, grasping your hips and helping you grind down on him, back and forth in rhythm with the way his mouth clashes with yours.

The straps of your bra fall down your arms and you tilt your head back at the deliciousness of the friction. Mark nips your collarbone, thrusting up to gain more friction.

“Fuck,” he moans. “Want you on my cock so bad.”

“God, me too.” You move faster, your body shaking and heat infiltrating every inch of you. It’s about time you took this step with Mark, and despite the way the glare on Chenle’s face as you went up the stairs with Mark excited you, you know Mark is everything you want.

He unbuttons your shorts, and you lift up to allow him to pull them down. Before his fingers can even latch onto the belt loops, the door slams open. Mark reacts quickly, flipping you over so he covers you with his body until he can get the throw blanket at the edge of it over you.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Mark hisses, quickly grabbing his shirt from the floor.

You clutch the blanket to your chest as you let your gaze travel to the door, and when you make eye contact with Chenle, your stomach twists.

“I…” Chenle pauses, glancing between Mark and you. “I don’t know.”

Tears well, but you refuse to let them fall in front of Chenle. You can’t lie and say you weren’t hoping this is what would happen, but now that it’s here, you have two men looking at you for answers.

“You’re a shitty person, you know that?” Mark says to Chenle. “What is she to you? A fucking toy? You think it makes you fucking cool to ditch her and then not want her to be with someone else?”

“What, and you treat her better? You were about to fuck her at a party—”

“Better than fucking her while I still have a girlfriend,” Mark snaps.

“What?” A soft voice sounds from behind Chenle, and he grimaces.

“No, that never happened, I—” Chenle frantically looks to you for support, fear in his eyes as he silently begs you to help him.

But you refuse to. It’s his own fault he’s in this situation.

Footsteps retreat, but Chenle stays put, panic rising as he tries to figure out whether or not he should stay or if he should go after his girlfriend.

“You’ll never fucking be anything to her,” Chenle spits at Mark. “You think she’ll ever think of you the way she thinks of me? She’s mine, and you’re an idiot if you think you stand a chance—”

Mark’s fist connects with Chenle’s jaw, and you scream. Launching up from the bed, you push yourself between them before Chenle can retaliate. You pant as you pull the straps of your bra back up and face Mark, putting your hand up.

“Mark, I—”

“Oh, fucking forget this.” He laughs, slapping his palm to his forehead. “He’s right, isn’t he? No matter what I do, it’ll always be him?”

You take a step forward. “It’s not like that—”

“He just insulted you, and you stood in front of him. You stood in front of him.” The anger on Mark’s face is new to you, and you feel shame prickle in your gut.

“Please, let me—”

“I wasn’t the one throwing punches,” Chenle says. “So it’s not like she had anything to protect you from—”

“Fuck this. I’m done.” Mark pushes past both of you, stopping to turn back and point. “You two are both fucked up. I don’t want to hear from either of you ever again.”

“Mark—” You start to follow him, but Chenle grabs your wrist. Glaring at him, you try to jerk away from him. “You’ve done enough, leave me alone.”

“It’s not…not like that. You’re half-naked, (Y/N), at least get dressed before you follow him.”

You curse loudly, running back into the room to grab your shirt from the floor. Tears blur your vision as you tug on the fabric back on and button your shorts. You try to ignore Chenle’s presence—considering that’s how you got here in the first place—but the emotions become too much.

You fall to your knees at the edge of the bed, Chenle’s form a blur as he moves toward you. Your fists clench into the bedding, and your body shakes as you truly realize what you’ve done.

Chenle’s embrace feels natural, easy to melt into, but you push him away with such force, he sits down on the floor next to you.

“Don’t touch me,” you hiss at him. “This is all your fault. Why can’t you just fucking leave me alone?”

“It’s okay,” he replies, nodding. “You should be mad at me. I’m so sorry. I don’t even know what just happened.”

You grip his shoulders and start shaking him. “What’s wrong with you? What happened to you? Where did Chenle go?”

For the first time in months, you see the old him. The one who actually cared for you. Guilt and shame cover his face as he takes in the state you’re in. You eventually become so weak, you crumble. He catches you, stroking the top of your head.

“I’m so sorry.” Chenle squeezes you tightly. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

[starandcloud]

John "Soap" MacTavish Headcannons

This man can SPRINT in heels I will die on this hill

If it wasn't for the military, he'd sleep until noon

Probably work a nightshift too

He needs coffee to function, if he doesn't have coffee he's a grouch

Takes his time waking up, not an early bird

He needs like five alarms to wake up

Bathroom first kind of person

Sometimes takes a shower in the morning, depends on if he didn't the night before

COFFEE and juice

Sweet tooth, a horrible sweet tooth

Chocolate chip pancakes are his go to, or whatever the canteen has tbh he's not that picky

He sleeps in whatever, or just his boxers does not care-

He does not dress up, he's in a uniform and looks presentable 9/10 out of ten. He's in a t-shirt and sweats when he's not deployed

Takes a shower every night, sometimes multiple times in the same night if he still feels grimey after the first one

He doesn't take baths often, but when he does it has bubbles and a rubber duckie. He likes the simple things in life guys

He likes simple scents, nothing complex

He hates 3-in-1

He likes Mint toothpaste

He eats when he can, but has pocket snacks

He loves home cooked meals

He likes smoothies, the purple ones (that he can never remember the name of) he gets from a smoothie shop are his favorites

He never makes meals for later, he's not that organized-

Rarely has leftovers

Get's fast food once in a blue moon

Doesn't eat out much, unless it's a special occasion

He does most of the chores, he has a specific way he does things

DESPISES dishes, hates the feeling of the food being squishy and soft under his fingers

IMMEDIATELY washes dishes after using them

Does have a "laundry chair" but it doesn't last long tbh

Makes his bed in the morning, military taught him well

Has a car, but that's about it

Owns a car, but it's this little puddle hopper and it's beat up- He could afford a better car, but he's deployed a lot so he probably won't buy one

He literally takes his car through the biggest puddles ever, just to see the water arch. He's easily amused

Hates boats, especially after Graves

He has an Android

Special ringtones for everyone he cares about

He has it silenced 9/10, he silences it for missions and forgets to unsilence it

He has candy-crush on his phone and I will stand firm on this

He has the basic lock and home screens

He has snapchat but uses it for the filters, also has facebook for market place and Tiktok for the car videos

He has a few followers on Tiktok

He can block someone easy

He posts his cooking fails online

He probably has angered the baking/cooking niche online A LOT, dude probably has callouts from five years ago because he doesn't care-

He sleeps whenever, but totally has sleeping meds for his PTSD

He can either be up all night or in seconds, depends on how tired he is tbh

He's a light sleeper

He talks in his sleep, but it's mostly mumbles

Has nightmares more often than not

Has a bit of light from his TV, finds it hard to sleep without it

Sleeps with every window and door locked

Has his bed in the corner of the wall, hard to be attacked from both sides

His handwritting is damn near impossible to understand, sometimes Price has a hard time deciphering it

He's an outdoorsy type

The first memory is of being with him mom at a fair

He likes bread, just bread ;-;

He listens to literally everything, except classical it puts him to sleep

Very Artsy

He has Bachlers degree

He loves cats, and has one at his moms

Struggles with gifts tbh

He went from the tallest in his family, to the one of the shortest on his team

He's huge on physical touch, especially with his partner

He said something that made Ghost stop in his tracks once, and then ever did again. It was so stupid it was smart

Soap is so fucking sociable it honestly annoys Ghost

He really wants to get married, but doesn't want to put the stress of him always being deployed on his spouse and he doesn't want to die on them

He's allergic to Buckwheat, Shellfish, Balsam of Peru, Tegretol, and Cosmetics

Whenever something traumatic happens he shrugs and goes: "Well that happened" and goes on with his life

He has a lot of scars, mostly from war itself most of them are on his upper arms but some are on his chest and forearms

He has a scar from getting a gash on his leg when playing when he was a kid, he needed A LOT of stitches

He has one that looks like a cresant moon on his right hand ring finger

He honestly doesn't mind when people trace his scars, it's kinda soothing

A little kid once asked about one on his chest, which he got when a bomb went on prematurely, and he said he got it from a T-Rex to entertain the kid.

That was also when he decided he wanted kids, when the kids eyes blew open wide and they bounced on their toes asking more questions. Which he provided absurd answers until the kids mom rushed over and apologized

The one on his chest was from a near-death experience, learned really quick how to run really really fast

He holds his partner close during cuddling, if their back is against his chest his face in buried in their neck. If he's laying on top of them, he has his head against their stomach and his arms protectively around their waist, or if his head is on his lap he just gently holds them and usually falls asleep

He's close with all of his family but is 1n00% a momma's boy

He stims by making faces, which is slightly weird if you don't know him wel

[juyeonszn]

CLUMSY

PAIRING ju haknyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 6.03k

GENRES smut ﹒fluff

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, reader and juhak are bio lab partners, juhak is lowkey a bit of a loser BUT DW HE REDEEMS HIMSELF, mentions of alcohol, a game of rage cage…, he’s down insanely bad, the flirting goes kinda crazy, someone calls the cops, they run from said cops, reader is Nawt wasting any time, pet names (juhak calls reader princess), tbh they’re both switches in some ways, kitchen sex, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering, edging, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampie lol

SUMMARY when haknyeon ran into you at a tbz party for the first time, he didn’t think he would fall for you so quickly. or literally. or both simultaneously. but there’s a first time for everything, he supposes.

MORE andddddd here we go 🫡 second fic of the black out or back out collab 🙏 i forgot to link the masterlist in the last one so im gonna link it in this one in case u wanna read any of the others!! ANYWAY i had such a fun time writing this one, any excuse i get to write for juhak, i will take trust <3 if u enjoyed, don’t forget to reblog! and pls check out the other fics so far!!

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri @deoboyznet @cloverdaisies @vernyangel

TAGLIST @millksea

SERIES MASTERLIST

Okay. So maybe trying to secure a girlfriend at a party wasn’t exactly Haknyeon’s best idea.

But, hey. You had to give him some credit. At least he was making an attempt. Most of his other frat brothers weren’t even making an effort. They seemed perfectly satisfied with charming their ways into random girls’ pants every weekend. Unfortunately, or fortunately considering he was a gentleman, Haknyeon wasn’t into that sort of thing.

It was just a little embarrassing that Kim Sunwoo’s love life had more progress than his own. Sunwoo was literally the resident loser bitch boy of the TBZ house. How was he closer to getting a girlfriend than he was? It made absolutely no sense.

Ju Haknyeon thought of himself as a catch. He was pretty neat, his room was cleaner than most guys’ his age. He knew how to cook basic meals, again, more than the average college sophomore. His car wasn’t on its last leg. (Cough cough… Kim Sunwoo, I’m looking at you.) He was a decent dude. He supported women’s rights and wrongs!

Apparently that was not enough these days.

“…And I need you to make sure the fridge is stocked completely. I’m not trying to drink my coffee without cream tomorrow morning because some idiot drank it while they were drunk.” Sangyeon commands, typing something furiously on his phone as some of the other guys move around the furniture.

“Bruh, I was in charge of buying everything last time. Why can’t someone else do it?” Kevin groans. Something else that wasn’t Haknyeon’s best idea? Walking into the kitchen during this very conversation. “What about JuHak? He looks like he has nothing better to do.”

“Yeah, whatever. That’s fine. Hak, I’m airdropping you the list.” Sangyeon waves his hand in dismissal, returning to his extensive presidential duties.

The sophomore deadpans, but doesn’t have the energy to argue back. You know, the usual fraternity was just a bunch of rich guys with more money than the tuition of each TBZ brother combined. However, the Tau Beta Zeta house was not your usual fraternity. It really was just a bunch of normal dudes thrown together. Though, Lee Sangyeon ran it like it was the fucking Navy.

Haknyeon accepts his defeat and grabs his things, heading out to the supermarket to shop for tonight’s party. Alcohol duty sucked more than door duty, in his opinion. You were sent out all alone, tasked with bringing back enough liquor and beer to last until early hours of the morning. It was a near impossible mission, unless you were Kevin Moon and good at practically everything in the world.

He pushes around the shopping cart mindlessly, though he knows he’ll have to make another trip. A long sigh leaves his lips as he enters the alcohol aisle. He fills the bottom of the cart with different cases of beer until he thinks he may drop one, and then starts to place things in the basket. He feels like a dumbass hauling it over to the registers, like everyone can see right through him.

He has to remind himself that this is for a good cause, that it’ll be worth it when everyone is enjoying themselves at the party. His actions won’t be in vain. Even after the second trip with another cart full of beer and various liquor bottles, Haknyeon keeps repeating affirmations in his head. This has to be the party.

In fact, he thinks his thoughts have manifested into reality when he sees you walking into the grocery store at the same time he’s leaving. You’re his pretty Bio lab partner. He’s always too nervous to hold a substantial conversation with you, so he settles for the bare minimum, which is unfulfilling small talk during your labs. It’s never what he needs though. Aside from your name, Haknyeon knows nothing about you.

“Y/N?” What he wants right now, however, is to shoot himself in the foot for sounding so unsure.

You glance up from your phone, a smile lighting up your face when you recognize him. “Haknyeon! Hey! What’s up?”

“Last minute preparations for the TBZ party tonight,” he gestures at his shopping cart with pursed lips. “You?”

“That’s so funny that you say that! My friends and I are going—“ You eye his cart with confusion. “Wait, I didn’t know you were in Tau Beta Zeta.”

“Yeah…” Haknyeon laughs awkwardly. “Surprise!”

You giggle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem like the frat boy type. Then again, TBZ isn’t your average frat so, I guess that kinda adds up.”

Haknyeon’s not sure if he should take that as a compliment or not, but since it’s coming from you, he decides that he will. The realization that you mentioned you’d be attending the party finally sets in at that same moment. “So, I’ll see you later, then?”

You nod, smile widening. “Yeah, I’m just grabbing a bottle for us to bring with. But I’ll be there. Maybe we’ll bump into each other.”

God, he hopes so. This is the perfect opportunity for him to swoop in and learn everything he’s been dying to know about you. His tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know… I’m a busy man. It might be a little hard.”

That cute little laugh of yours makes another appearance. “I’ll be on the lookout, don’t worry. See you tonight, Haknyeon.”

Ju Haknyeon thinks that he must’ve done something monumental in a past life, like saving a dog from a burning building or stopping a world war. How else would the universe reward him this kindly? All he can do is wave as you maneuver around an elderly couple passing by into the store.

Maybe Kevin Moon wasn’t that bad. And maybe Lee Sangyeon wasn’t as big of a tyrant as he made him out to be. He could actually kiss the ground they walked on for forcing him into alcohol duty. If it weren’t for them, he wouldn’t have ran into you and he wouldn’t have known you were attending the party. Now he has something to look forward to that isn't getting shitfaced.

“What the hell are you wearing?”

Haknyeon looks away from his mirror, Hyunjae standing in the doorway. He has a cringe on his face at the sight of his outfit. It wasn’t the worst thing he’s ever worn, but it was… a bit too much. A black button up and black slacks was admittedly not the best frat party fit. The only good thing he had going for him was his hair that was styled for once, parted so his bangs framed his face nicely.

“This girl I’m kinda into is coming tonight. I need to look irresistible.” The younger explains, arms flailing at his sides.

“Okay, well you won’t accomplish that in this,” Hyunjae snorts, digging through his closet. “If she’s into you too, she won’t care what you’re wearing. Just throw on something you’d normally wear. Like… this! This is nice.”

Hyunjae holds up a black t-shirt and a black-washed denim jacket. Haknyeon hums. It was simple, but also once he put it on he wouldn’t feel like a douchebag, which was the whole goal here. Paired with some khaki cargo pants, he’s found a winner. He begrudgingly thanks his senior for the assistance, shooing him out of his bedroom so he can mentally prepare for the night ahead of him.

He doesn’t even know what to bring up now that he really tosses the idea around in his head. Yeah, he wants to learn more about you and what you’re like outside of your Bio lab, but specifically what he couldn’t say. Haknyeon was starting to feel like a lost cause. He had to clutch up tonight. He had to woo you so much that you had no choice but to fall for his cute face and endearing personality. But how was he meant to do that if he couldn’t even come up with topics to talk with you about?

Maybe he was just thinking too far into things. Perhaps he should just let it all go with the flow. Moving at an au natural pace was probably his best bet in comparison to Sunwoo’s soccer ball plan. (He’s still confused how that worked in his favor.)

Before he knows it, the party is swinging into full effect. This is the first time Haknyeon’s ever been so socially aware of his surroundings. He had a habit of blurring his atmosphere at these things, more interested in getting drunk with his buddies than paying attention to the attendees. As he stands in a corner of the living room, listening to Chanhee complain about treasurer stuff, he watches each and every person who enters the house.

When you finally do walk in, he has to physically stop himself from choking on the beer in his cup, biting the rim of the plastic in a weak attempt to sedate himself. If he thought you were gorgeous before in a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, he doesn’t know what to call you now. You’re laughing at something one of your friends said, dolled up in a black mini skirt and a black cropped halter top while hugging a bottle of Pink Whitney to your chest. He could probably pass out right here right now.

He almost does, but then Chanhee is slapping his back aggressively. “Wipe the drool off of your chin. God, am I the only one who still has a brain?”

“Shut the fuck up, Chanhee, go cry about your life somewhere else.” Haknyeon dismisses his senior, downing the rest of his drink for some liquid courage. Though he is, he doesn’t want to seem too desperate, so he’s not going up to you this quickly. Instead, he heads into the kitchen to get another drink, rolling his neck like he’s preparing for the biggest win of the century.

It’s as he’s pouring some jungle juice into a fresh cup that you see him. A smile similar to the one from the store graces your features. There was only one person with a back like that, and it was your cute lab partner. You keep an arm wrapped around your bottle, tapping his shoulder lightly. He spins around confusedly, but the expression morphs into pleasant surprise immediately after.

“Pink Whitney? Easy choice,” he points at the bottle in your grasp. “Are you a lightweight, Y/N?”

Your cheeks warm up at the teasing remark. Upon first meeting, Haknyeon’s been an awkward mess around you. You can only assume the confidence stems from the fact that he’s within his element. “That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were implying that you want me to get you drunk.” He tucks a hand into one of his jacket pockets, the other bringing his cup to his mouth. He’s unconscious of the source of this sudden bravery, but he prays it doesn’t fade off anytime soon.

“Maybe I do…” You bite your lip, undoing the seal of the Pink Whitney bottle to take a sip. It burns your throat slightly. “I’ve never hung out with a frat boy before. I kinda wanna see what the hype is all about.”

Haknyeon thinks he might pass out again, because if he wasn’t so acutely aware of your entire interaction, he would think you’re flirting with him. Friendliness was a double edged sword in this day and age. But who knows, maybe you are flirting. You showed up with your friends but they were nowhere to be found now. He needed to take advantage of the opening.

It’s around this time that Younghoon and Juyeon are bringing out the fated beer pong table, a crowd already beginning to form nearby. He feels sorry for the poor suckers who have to play Changmin and his girlfriend.

“We should play beer pong!” You suggest, watching the pair of taller guys setting up the cups over his shoulder. Haknyeon can sense the color draining from his face. If it had been anyone else, he would’ve shut the idea down insanely fast, but because it was you, he was genuinely contemplating. Those who went up against the infamous TBZ party beer pong champions were in for a rude awakening, but if you wanted to...

“Uh—“ He starts but then he’s interrupted.

“Yo! Who’s down to play Rage Cage?!”

Juyeon’s voice is somehow louder than the music, carrying into the kitchen where the two of you stand. Haknyeon wasn’t the greatest Rage Cage player, but he enjoyed it a hell of a lot more than beer pong. Especially when he stood beside people who didn’t understand the concept of the game.

You chug some more Pink Whitney, batting your eyelashes up at Haknyeon. “I’ve never played Rage Cage. Is it fun?”

“If you’re next to the right people it can be, but if you aren’t, then it’s a whole lot of drinking. We haven’t played Rage Cage at a TBZ party in a while, but the last time we did Eric Sohn almost had to get his stomach pumped.” He laughs a little at the memory of his friend spending the rest of his night cuddling with a toilet seat. The mental picture overshadows how enticing you look right now.

“Do you think you can teach me?” You ask sweetly, hoping that he takes the hint. He seemed like the type of guy who wouldn’t make the first move unless you forced him to, so it appeared that you had your work cut out for you.

“You wanna play?” He turns to you with wide eyes, almost as if he hadn’t expected you to show interest in the game. You give him a small nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. The truth of the matter was that you were a fucking liar. You’ve played Rage Cage plenty of times in the past. You were actually pretty decent at it, too. You just needed an excuse to spend the night around him.

“We better head over there now. It looks like the table is filling up.” You jab your pinkie in that general direction. Haknyeon blows a raspberry and leads you that way, his hand resting on the small of your back so he won’t lose you in the pack of people surrounding the table.

“Forewarning, my rap sheet doesn’t really read World Class Rage Cage Champ,” he laughs nervously, the anxiety beginning to eat at him all over again. “But I promise, I won’t let you get stacked.”

When Haknyeon said he wasn’t the worst, but wasn’t good at Rage Cage, you took his word. Except he severely overplayed his own skill. Maybe he was just extremely on edge and it threw off his game, but the amount of times he was stacked on was a little comical. At the very least, he kept his promise. You hadn’t got stacked once, but that was also only because Haknyeon would drink for you every time you almost did.

The room is sort of spinning by the time the first game has finished. Playing a drinking game while he’s trying to get to know you better was probably at the higher portion of his ‘BAD IDEAS!!!’ list. If he wasn’t so eager to please and followed along to each of your suggestions, perhaps he’d be having a different conversation. That was not the case, though.

You can’t help but feel a little guilty for the turn out. All you’d wanted was to flirt with your lab partner, possibly end the night with some making out. As it was looking, that’s not the path you were heading down, but rather towards the kitchen for some water to sober him up some. Your bottle of Pink Whitney is long lost, replaced with a bottle of H2O. You hold his chin, tilting it back slightly to pour some into his mouth.

If he hadn’t already had the fattest crush on you, he definitely did now. Pretty and nice? You were the total package. Here you were, nursing him back to sobriety when you could’ve been out and about enjoying yourself with your friends. Up this close, he gets a detailed look at you. It’s so weird for him to think about how much he’s pined after you since the start of the semester, how much he’s admired the face that’s looking at him with this unfamiliar tenderness. He never thought he stood a chance. You know, that whole ‘nice guys finish last’ pick me boy vibe.

“Y/N—” He’s cut short, Juyeon’s voluminous voice resonating throughout the house again, sans the music.

“Everybody who isn’t Tau Beta Zeta, get the fuck out! Someone called the cops!”

Of course. Nobody ever calls the cops on a TBZ party but of fucking course the one time Haknyeon gets shoot his shot with you, someone narcs. He actually thinks he might die. He might keel over and die in the middle of this party while the cops are raiding the place. Lee Sangyeon is gonna be thrown in the back of a police cruiser for letting people drink underage and then send them his way because he bought all of the alcohol. This was just his luck.

Without a word, you grab his hand and drag him out through the back door. You follow the flock of other party goers escaping the wrath of the police. It’s difficult to run in a mini skirt and strappy heels, but you don’t really have room to whine about it. Haknyeon doesn’t know if there’s ever a right time to tell you that you could’ve just gone up to his room, but figures it’s too late when you're hopping the short fence that goes out to the main street of Greek Row.

One would think that he’d sobered up at this point since he was, you know, on the run from the law. Yet for some reason Ju Haknyeon himself doesn’t even know, he’s still feeling the effects of the alcohol, tripping over that stupid fucking fence and falling flat on his face. Thankfully, he lands on the grassy part just before the sidewalk, but it doesn’t make the situation any less embarrassing.

You don’t give him recovery time, pulling him to his feet. He holds a hand to the side of his face that received the harshest of the impact, expecting to wake up to a nasty bruise tomorrow. He’s also unsure where exactly you’re taking him, but is afraid of asking out of fear that you’ll send his ass back to the frat house and have him arrested or something. (He had a bad habit of over complicating situations and coming up with the worst possible scenarios.)

Once the commotion has died out and there’s no one else around, you slow your pace. You turn to face him with a grin, holding both of his hands in yours as you walk backwards. “Are you cool with staying the night at my place?”

Truly, Haknyeon needs to know what act of nobility he committed in his previous life. He needs to go back in time and thank himself for whatever it was. Even with fumble after fumble, he was somehow bouncing back and receiving major compensation for sticking it out. He swallows thickly, nodding dumbly when he realizes he hasn’t given you a proper response.

“Um… Yeah— I mean— yes. That’s fine. That’s totally fine.” He word-vomits, stumbling over his tongue rather than his feet. Being down bad was one of his strongest personality traits. And being clumsy was second strongest, so you don't even have to imagine how terrible a combination of both would be.

The walk to your apartment knocks any lingering inebriation out of his system. He’s entirely too hyper aware of what’s happening as you guide him in that direction. It’s cooler out, the temperature dropping in the nighttime as the end of the semester approaches. If there was another reason to be grateful for this party, it was because he no longer had to worry about not making a move before your last lab together. As much as he despised Biology, he’d take it every day if it meant getting to see you.

He actually feels like he may throw up as you reach your place, his hands sticking into the pockets of his jacket to hide the clamminess of his palms. His nerves are creeping up on him once more, a dark cloud looming over him. He shouldn’t be this jumpy at this point of the night. He should be composed, prepared to sweep you off your feet after spending so much time with you. Why the hell is he sweating bullets right now?

“Welcome to my humble abode,” you curtsy. “Would you like something to drink? Water, maybe?”

“Th-That would be great,” Haknyeon forces out, waddling behind you into the kitchen like a baby duckling following its mother. “You have a nice apartment.”

“Really? Thank you!” You can’t help but giggle at his jitters and the way he keeps rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. A sense of déjà vu rushes over you when you pass him a cup. “Living alone has its perks, I guess. I like that I don’t have to argue with anyone about how to decorate and things like that.”

“It sounds a lot more enjoyable than living with a bunch of men in their early twenties,” he smiles weakly as he accepts the glass of water from you. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to how thin the walls are in that house.”

“Do they have sex often?” You ask him bluntly, head cocking to the side almost innocently. He chokes on the water he just sipped, nearly spilling it onto the floor.

“W-What?” He sputters.

“I’m assuming that’s what you’re talking about,” you shrug, facing away from him so you can grab yourself something to drink, also. “We should get back at them.”

You don’t know how many more bones you can throw for him to understand what you're insinuating. Even the frat boy comment you made earlier was intentional. Haknyeon’s mouth goes dry and his eyes widen like a cartoon character’s. What the fuck?

“I’ve never brought a girl back to the house before, because I don’t want them to make fun of me or something— not that I’m saying I would take you back to the house! I mean I just would feel bad if you also got made fun of— not that I’m referring to having sex with you or anything!” The glass in his hands is on the verge of slipping from his grip. “Not that I don’t want to have sex with you— oh my god— um wow, that’s a very lovely fruit bowl you have there I—“

“Hak,” you interject his rambling, wearing a mischievous smile.

The nickname drives him fucking insane. Scratch him possibly dying. If he isn’t dead by the end of the night, he’ll be shocked. Perplexed. Perturbed. Puzzled. Any shock-adjacent synonym you can think of. That will be him. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you shut up and kiss me already?”

Honestly, you don’t have to ask him twice. His lips are on yours in seconds, fingers fisting the material of your skirt at your hips to steel himself. You moan in response to the sheer frenzy behind his actions. It’s so easy to lose yourself in the haste of it; the way you tug at his hair, the blunt edges of his nails digging into your sides, the near clashing of your teeth. He nibbles at your bottom lip, sighing when you allow his tongue to permeate your mouth. He’s content to do nothing but this, kissing you is enough to satiate the desire he’s harbored for you for months. However, with the franticness of your kiss, he knows you want more.

He inches you both backwards until your lower back hits the counter, and then he’s cupping beneath your thighs to hoist you up. His strength sends tidal waves pulsing throughout your whole being, hurriedly pushing the material of his denim jacket off of his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor without a care. Your hands travel south as his lips trail along your jaw and neck, sucking and biting your supple skin wherever he feels fit. He hisses into the dip where your collarbone meets your shoulder when you palm him through his pants.

“Fuck, babe, you want me bad, don’t you?” He mutters into the column of your throat, teeth sinking into the flesh after.

“Mhmm,” you whine, craning your neck to give him more access to the surface. It’s like a switch has flipped in him and it turns you on unbearably. This is what you’ve been trying to coax out of him all night.

Haknyeon pries apart your legs, slotting himself between them so he can sneak his fingers beneath your skirt. His thumb rubs tight circles into your clothed clit, the lace of your underwear damp with your arousal. He connects your lips again, groaning into your kiss when he moves the fabric aside and slides his knuckle through your folds. You buck up your hips, whimpering when he holds them down with his forearm.

“Want more,” you gasp when he applies a bit of pressure to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

“‘More’ what? Use your words, princess,” he instructs, tracing your entrance with his ring finger.

You shake your head because you’re not even sure what it is that you want. You just know that this isn’t enough to quell the hunger burning at your chest. It’s not nearly sufficient to fan the flames in the depths of your heart or the ache in the pit of your abdomen. You need him everywhere. It’s beyond him being your cute Bio lab partner now.

He urges you onto your elbows, pecking the plane of your stomach. He pushes up your skirt and discards your panties, baring you to the cool air of your apartment. Your eyes flutter shut when he kisses your clit gently. Your head is light and airy and it’s like you’re on cloud nine. Haknyeon hums against you, pulling off to scold you.

“Eyes open, baby,” he nudges his nose on your pelvic bone. “Want you to watch me eat you out.”

The moan you release is strained, like it had been confined in the back of your throat for ages until this moment. He flattens his tongue and licks a line from your hole to your clit, suckling the engorged skin and repeating. Your eyelids are heavy, keeping your intense gaze on him as he all but makes out with your pussy. He focuses his mouth on your clit and slips his middle finger into you. He pumps it in and out languidly, setting a rhythm that matches each swirl of his tongue around your clit.

The whole scene still feels unreal to both of you, like you might wake up from a wet dream or something. How was it possible that Ju Haknyeon was finger fucking you on your kitchen counter? Just a couple days ago, you were sitting side by side in your Biology lab, too nervous to initiate a substantial conversation. You’d think it would be harder to slob on someone’s knob than it would be to talk to them while wearing a fuckass lab coat and goggles.

Haknyeon works his forearm up, pinning down your thighs so your cunt is fully accessible. He adds a second finger to the mix, thrusting them at a higher speed and increasing the unrelenting sucking of your bundle of nerves. He can tell you’re creeping closer towards your climax with the way your walls clench around him and your hips continue to jerk up. And considering the kind of person he was, you figured he would aid you rather than hinder you. But you figured wrong.

He slows his assault, removing his mouth from your clit and leaving the stimulation at just his two fingers. You whine, lip quivering when he looks up into your eyes.

“W-Why are you— what are you doing?” You plead, hating the tone of your voice. The tables have turned, with you sitting beside desperation. This is so unlike you— so unlike the usual domineering aura you exude during sex— your body reacting differently to the power falling through the cracks within your grasp.

“Don’t you wanna savor the moment, princess?” He sounds so cocky, a far cry from the wavering confidence you’d always seen out of him. He kisses the skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to the area you need him most, all the while he continues curling and uncurling his fingers.

The precipice of your orgasm is right there, you can almost taste it on the tip of your tongue. But Haknyeon holds it just out of reach, dangling it in your face like teasing a dog with a chew toy. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, a false sense of hedonism building and building, then slowly ebbing away each time he retracts. You open your mouth, but no sound comes out.

Just when you’ve given up hope, he adds a third finger and wraps his lips around your clit, sucking harshly. The sudden and unexpected intrusion snaps that familiar cord in half, blinding you with white hot pleasure. The groan that escapes from the base of your chest is guttural, echoing throughout the kitchen. You don’t have it in you to worry about waking your neighbors, especially not when you feel the curve of a smile against your cunt, such an uncharacteristic response from Haknyeon.

Your legs spasm as the height of your orgasm calms. You pull him down for a wanton kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. He laughs at the role swap, hands flat on the counter to hold him over you. “Feel good?”

“So good, Hak,” you murmur into his lips. “Think you can fuck me like that next?”

“So impatient,” he snickers, pecking along your jaw once more. “But since you’ve been so good for me, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

You clumsily undo the button and zipper of his cargoes, pushing them down with your foot. He steps out of them and kicks them away while simultaneously removing his t-shirt. You take your top off and shimmy out of your skirt, raising an eyebrow at the narrowed look in his eyes. “What?”

“Do you have a condom?”

“No,” you poke your cheek with your tongue. “But, I don’t care if you wear one. I’d rather feel you raw, anyway.”

His forehead drops to your shoulder. “God, you’re killing me. Okay.”

He shoves down his briefs and you have to stop yourself from gawking at his size. While he wasn’t the biggest, he was definitely bigger than anyone else you’ve ever been with. He pumps himself a couple times, guiding his length to your entrance and throwing his head back when the tip presses into you. This was really happening, holy shit. Ju Haknyeon was actually having sex with you.

Your toes curl and you stab your nails into your palms to distract from the stinging stretch. He eases into you with the occasional grunt, minding your expressions for any signs of discomfort. When all he sees is your features contorted to display pleasure, he resumes. By the time he’s bottomed out completely, both of you are moaning messes. You feel so full, stuffed to the brim with the weight of his cock.

“I’ve wanted to be inside of you for so fucking long,” he admits, speaking the words into your sticky skin as he drags himself out only to piston back in. The action throttles you a bit, your eyes tempted to roll to the back of your head from how fucking good it feels. You can’t conjure coherent thoughts to properly convey how many endorphins are coursing through your veins.

Haknyeon sets a pace that combines the perfect amount of speed and depth, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep in your cunt. Your brain is hazy and your vision blurs, hardly able to see anything in front of you. His mouth attaches to the pulse point on your neck, ensuring he bruises the area.

“Y-You’re— fuck— you’re s-so deep, Hak. I can feel you all over,” you wail, bringing one of his hands to tamp your lower stomach. The pressure contributes to the growing tension of your second orgasm, something you know will collide into you with even more exertion than the first.

“Yeah? You’re taking me s-so well, baby. No one else has ever fucked you this good, right?” Sweat beads on his hairline, dripping down his temples with every thrust of his hips and every drive of his cock into your sweet pussy. Even if he really did somehow manage to die tonight, he could do it with integrity. He could go out with the honor of a fallen soldier knowing that he got to experience this at least once in his life.

He hikes one of your knees up to your chest, burying his dick deeper if humanly possible. You arch your back, pushing into his chest to minimize the space between you, antsy at the promise of another release as mind blowing as the last. He brings you to the edge of the counter so you’re now hip to hip. Haknyeon snakes a hand in the middle of your bodies, using his thumb to rub circles into your clit. That stimulation coupled with the depth of his cock encourages the fluttering of your walls, in turn drawing out the state of bliss you’ve been chasing.

Your vision goes blank, stars painting the behinds of your eyelids. A second orgasm crests upon you and evokes a moan so pornographic, it sounds far away from you. It’s a dreamlike euphoria, an almost out of body experience that puts every other orgasm to shame. The surface of your skin is hot to the touch.

“Where do you want me, princess?” Haknyeon asks breathily. In the calamity of your own release, you nearly forgot about his until you register the twitching inside of you. It pauses the static in your ears, returning the volume of the world to its normality.

“Cum inside of me,” you whine, the overstimulation becoming too much to handle. He doesn’t need to be told another time, grip tightening on your thigh as he spills into your cunt.

The two of you stay still for a moment, allowing clarity to flow into your brains. You wince when he finally has half the mind to pull out, his nose scrunching up at the sensitivity. He slides his underwear back on, extremely conscious of how naked he is right now. He has an inkling that you were anticipating that this would happen, because why else would you ask him to stay over tonight? But, he is the Ju Haknyeon that you’ve sat next to this entire semester in your Biology lab. So he couldn’t just march forward without a little overthinking and self deprecation.

“Do you still want me to stay?” His voice has reverted back to that small, unsure tone. You sit up quickly, alarmed by the twinge of disappointment underneath it.

“Of course, I do,” you pout, kissing his cheek and lacing your fingers together. “I’ve had a crush on you since the beginning of the year, Hak. Sure, maybe I skipped a couple steps in between, but I have wanted this so badly— I have wanted you so badly— for you don’t even know how long.”

He chuckles, tucking some hair behind your ear. He leaves a sweet kiss on your lips, softer and gentler than the ones from earlier that night. He’s intentional with the way he glides them in harmony, like he was following the melody of the most beautiful song. “Oh trust me, I think I have an idea.”

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.