#tiny board computers

[sunshineyuyu]

stereo hearts (s. mg)

★ summary: mingi’s had a crush on you since his freshman year. you’re a year older than him, infinitely cooler, and you share a love for music. one night, you end up making out in the storage closet of the campus radio station you both work at, and you end up getting closer. ★ pairing: mingi x f!reader ★ genre: smut (mdni!!), college ★ word count: 5.6k ★ tags/warnings: radio station dj!mingi and reader, reader is a year older than mingi, mingi is a computer science major LOL, reader is described as shorter than mingi, alcohol consumption, weed consumption, mentions of nicotine vape, frat party, american college setting, kinda sub-y mingi, kinda dom-y reader, slight dumbification?, reader is just a little mean to mingi, oral sex (f receiving), vaginal fingering, penetrative piv sex (with a condom!), minor super background seongjoong ★ notes: this one was written as a gift for @starhwas-bunny huhu, my bestie beta <3 ftr i have never dj-ed for a university radio station so hopefully this isn’t a super inaccurate representation of that experience. ★ masterlist | read on ao3

in the three years since mingi started volunteering as a dj at the university radio station, the little room they broadcast out of has become something like a second home to him.

three out of four of the walls are covered floor to ceiling with shelves that sag from the amount of vinyls, cassette tapes, and cds crammed onto them. tucked into one corner is a mini fridge that was found abandoned after move-out day years ago, and sitting on top is a weak little keurig gifted by the previous faculty sponsor. there’s a musty old leather couch shoved against the singular non-shelved wall, and in the middle of the whole room is the desk, overloaded with several monitors, a keyboard, and the sound board. the whole room smells faintly like sour coffee and old grandpa, but mingi has learned to love it all the same.

tonight, though, mingi would rather be anywhere else than here. grumpily, he blinks at the red numbers of the digital clock on the corner of the desk. 02:13 AM, it reads. he wishes he could go back in time and take a different shift, but the mingi from a month ago never could’ve anticipated all the developments that have happened over the last few weeks.

first, his compilers assignment is kicking his ass. he’s been working tirelessly on it for three weeks now, but his results are still a little off and the due date is fast approaching at the end of the week. he doesn’t even have any classmates to fall back on for help, since he’s taking the course a semester ahead of his other friends, and he hasn’t had enough time to make new ones yet.

second, his best-friend-roommate yunho just got a new girlfriend, which means he’s been spending less time hanging out with mingi. mingi likes to think that he’s not too clingy or needy, but he misses the routine of waking up to the smell of yunho burning breakfast and then getting in a game of valorant together before going to bed. instead, he’s had to play nice with yunho’s new girlfriend whenever she invades their apartment with her neverending peppiness, and sleep with noise-canceling earbuds because he and yunho share a wall.

he’s sleep-deprived and stressed and lonely and really wants a goddamn hug from literally anyone.

but he’s forced to toil away in the tiny campus radio station studio, where the playlist he’d painstakingly arranged last week to blend seamlessly between songs does nothing to soothe his anxieties.

⋆⋆⋆

there’s still half an hour left of mingi’s shift, but he’s already queued up all the music and timed out the ads, so he’s mostly just focused on chipping away at his assignment. the adrenaline from the celsius he crushed when he first arrived is already started to fade, and mingi is seriously thinking about digging out the elfbar from the bottom of his backpack (that he promised yunho he’d throw away) to extend the last fumes of his focus.

this train of thought is thankfully interrupted by the door of the studio being thrown open unceremoniously.

“shit!”

even on a good day, mingi is a jumpy person, and having the blinding light of the hallway enter the dark studio with no warning makes his heart skip several beats. his knee jerks up on instinct, and it whacks painfully against the bottom of the desk.

“ah, oops. sorry!”

standing in the doorway, haloed in fluorescent light, and appearing practically angelic, is none other than you. you have enough wherewithal to at least look apologetic, but mingi doesn’t care either way because it’s you.

you’re a senior—one year above mingi—and the one who trained him to be a dj when he was a freshman. back then, he’d been starstruck by how outgoing you are, the way you’d tease him with the familiarity of a close friend even though you were practically strangers. you have this eclectic but broad taste in music, and he likes that you challenge him to listen to new artists and genres.

and of course—you’re fucking hot. you’ve always been beautiful, with shining eyes and a big wide smile. but over the years, you’ve changed your hair style, dyed the ends, gotten a couple of piercings and tattoos, and it’s been game over for mingi ever since. 

so yeah, he’s had a crippling crush on you that’s only gotten worse with time.

“hi,” mingi says dumbly, massaging his knee where the pain has already mysteriously disappeared.

“hey!” you say breezily, beaming because it’s clear now that he won’t yell at you for scaring him.

“do you have the next shift?” mingi asks, using all his brainpower to compose a coherent sentence. he’s usually able to act relatively normal around you, but he’s all out of sorts right now, and it’s nearly 2:30 fucking am.

“oh, no,” you say. “i just really needed a caffeine fix, and this is the only place i could think of that’s still open on campus for me to get some.”

you both glance over at the sad excuse of a coffee station the studio has, and mingi lets out an undignified snort.

“it is what it is,” you sigh.

while mingi tries to think of a conversation starter, he turns back to his laptop so he’s not just staring at you like some lovesick puppy. 

your normally styled hair is thrown into an afterthought of a bun, but mingi likes that he can see the elegant line of your neck and the line of silver hoops stacked along your ears. you’re also wearing those rimless bayonetta glasses that he loves, and he always gets distracted by the little sparkle charm you added that dangles from the hinge.

“aw man,” you say. “there aren’t any pods left.”

mingi glances up briefly from his laptop to see you pouting down at the little box where they usually keep the coffee pods. 

cute, he thinks.

“hongjoong ordered more last week,” mingi says, waving towards the storage closet behind him. “but he hid them so people don’t try to steal them in bulk.”

at his words, you perk up and scamper towards the closet after dumping your backpack onto the couch.

with you out of sight, some of the nervous tension in mingi’s muscles finally bleeds out. mingi throws his glasses down onto the table and rubs at his weary eyes until he sees fireworks against the backs of his eyelids. he wishes he had even an ounce of the charisma that yunho has, but he’s so fucking tired right now that he can’t think of anything even remotely charming to talk to you about. eventually, he slams his forehead down onto the table and entertains the thought of knocking himself out. before he can let his imagination run too wild, he hears the sound of something heavy falling and a whispered “fuck!”

concerned, mingi straightens and rolls his chair closer to the threshold of the storage closet.

“you good?” he asks.

he forgot to put his glasses back on, so you’re really more of a blurry blob of a person, but somehow your sheepish smile still manages to come through.

“i found the pods!” you say brightly, pointing at a large cardboard box on the top shelf. “but, i can’t reach them.”

mingi huffs out a laugh and stands up. finally, it feels like something is going right for him tonight. you are short and need help, and mingi is tall and can help you.

he’s so hyper-focused on his task that he doesn’t think twice about crowding up behind you. doesn’t think twice about bracing one hand against your back to keep himself steady as he reaches with his other hand for the box. doesn’t think twice about leaning around your smaller frame to present you with the thing. 

“here,” he says, except it comes out breathy and rough because he’s just stretched his body for the first time in what feels like ages.

he doesn’t realize how close your faces are until you utter a soft thank you, and the words ghost along his cheekbone. he shudders at the sensation, and all at once the rest of his brain and body come online to recognize the position you’re arranged in.

it’s cramped in the closet, and mingi’s a big guy. his entire front is pressed up against your back, and the hand he’d used to balance himself has somehow slipped down to your waist, and you’ve turned your head slightly so that you can look up at him.

mingi stares down at you, and you’re seriously so close that he doesn’t need his glasses to see the way your lips part, the way your eyebrows furrow. 

“um,” he says intelligently.

oh-so-slowly, you push your glasses up onto your head and turn around to fully face him. like always, that stupid sparkle charm entrances mingi.

and then suddenly, he’s pulled down by the front of his shirt, and you surge up to meet him. your lips collide together with so much force that your teeth clack, but mingi doesn’t care because jesus fucking christ. he shoves the pods onto the nearest shelf to get his other hand onto your waist too. god, it’s been a while since the last time he’s made out with someone like this. while his mouth works furiously to remember how to kiss well, he fumbles his palms over the curves of your body. meanwhile, your fingers dance confidently along his chest and collarbones, finally curling into the hair at the nape of his neck. when you tug lightly, mingi actually whimpers.

he pulls back, embarrassed, but you look delighted.

“oh,” you breathe, grinning. “oh, fuck—make that noise again.”

mingi stares at you, uncomprehending and breathing like he’s just run a race. you tug again. mingi keens.

“cute,” you murmur. “c’mere.”

you don’t give mingi the chance to second-guess anything as you pull him back down. your chapstick tastes like peaches, and your tongue is doing things that mingi’s never felt before. you touch him everywhere—run your hands along his chest, his stomach, his back, his arms. mingi is putty in your arms, and he stops trying to hold back the sounds that you tease out of him.

you make out sloppily for what seems like hours. it’s so nice and mindless that mingi doesn’t even realize that he’s half-hard in his jeans until you finally take a step back. 

like the fucking touch-starved idiot he is, he unconsciously leans forward to chase after you. in response, you grin and press a single finger against his chest to hold him off.

“it’s almost the next shift,” you say quietly. “we should probably get out of here.”

“oh,” mingi croaks, as reality settles back in. “oh. yeah.”

you peck the underside of his jaw, and then leave the storage closet.

mingi stays for a second longer, collecting himself. finally, he grabs the box of coffee pods and follows you back into the studio.

he can’t get a read on you as you wordlessly retrieve your backpack. he mirrors your movement, albeit more lethargically. he feels like he’s drunk or high or both, body moving sluggishly, and he’s so so confused.

jongho, who’s taking the 3 am shift, shows up in the middle of your silence as a much needed buffer. it takes mingi five minutes to hand over control, and when he’s done, he’s disappointed to see that you aren’t in the room anymore. dejected, he says goodbye to jongho and leaves the studio, only to find you waiting in the hallway.

you look up when he stops in front of you and smile at him.

“walk me to my car?” you say.

mingi smiles shyly back at you. “yeah. okay.”

you start down the hallway, but mingi halts abruptly. “didn’t you- um- your coffee?” mingi stutters. jesus, he really needs to pull himself together.

you quirk your head to one side and then takes a step into mingi’s space. your gaze darkens, and your smile stretches into a smirk.

“nah,” you whisper, reaching to drag your thumb along his bottom lip. “i got my fix.” 

oh, mingi thinks giddily. she means me!

“c’mon,” you say, your face softening and your hand finding mingi’s. “it’s late.”

“yeah,” mingi says dreamily, trailing after you.

⋆⋆⋆

in the days following, mingi doesn’t see you at all.

this isn’t uncommon—you’re different years and majors, after all. but mingi is still bummed about it. he has your number, but he’s never texted you besides to talk about campus radio logistics. sometimes, you’ll send each other a new song or artist to nerd out over, but mingi feels like it’s a little too transparent if he texts you now when the last time you exchanged messages was weeks ago.

every night, though, mingi replays what happened in his head over and over again. how you had been the one to initiate, to guide and control the entire encounter—how that had turned him on in ways he’d never imagined. he tries vainly not to think about you when he jerks off, but right as he’s about to cum, his thoughts always stray to the way you’d tugged at his hair and cooed at his embarrassing noises.

in the aftermath, he’ll try to think instead of the way you held his hand while they walked to your car. the walk had been short but sweet. you’d been the one to intertwine your fingers, and mingi hadn’t been able to hide the stupid smile on his face as your hands swung between the two of you.

you’d given him one last kiss on the cheek before saying good night.

the rest of the night was a haze: walking to his car, driving home, falling asleep the moment his head hit his pillow without even changing out of his clothes.

⋆⋆⋆

it’s friday night, and mingi has managed to finish his godforsaken compilers assignment, so he’s planning on getting wasted.

mingi is still largely undecided on how he feels about yunho’s new girlfriend, but the one thing going in her favor is the fact that she’s the delta gamma social chair and—because of some bylaw somewhere—has automatic entry to every relevant frat party. she can even bring other people with her, as long as it’s not an egregious amount.

and that’s how mingi finds himself in the middle of an SAE party, just the right side of tipsy. he’s nursing a sweating can of beer and watching yunho and wooyoung absolutely destroy a couple of pledges at beer pong. when they win, mingi pounces on them, but ends up empty-handed as they’re each pulled into congratulatory embraces by their respective significant others.

suddenly, despite being surrounded by people, mingi feels incredibly lonely. it’s like he’s been doused in ice water, the way his head clears and his heart sinks. he knows it’s a passing feeling, knows that in two seconds his friends will turn their attention back to him, but the shots and beers from earlier tonight no longer sit right in his bloodstream.

under the guise of getting another drink, mingi ducks away from his friends and looks for someplace with a little more space and air. he wanders towards the yard, where there’s far fewer people. all of the lawn chairs available are already occupied, so mingi leans up against the wall and pulls out his phone. he’s two scrolls into his instagram feed when something collides into his side hard enough to make him let out a soft oof.

he thinks it must be some random drunk, but instead it’s—

you.

“mingi!” you shriek.

your arms wrap around his middle, and you gaze up at him with glazed over eyes. you’re wearing this tight black shirt with a big square neckline, and you’re all squished up against him so mingi gets an eyeful of your cleavage.

he swallows painfully.

“y/n!” he says, trying to match your energy without being as loud.

you peer around him, almost like you’re looking for someone else. “are you here by yourself?” you ask.

“no,” mingi says. “my friends are inside. i just wanted to get some air.”

“ah.” you nod sagely. “do you smoke? like—get high?”

mingi shrugs, and you bounce with glee. you drag him by the wrist over to a small cluster of people sitting around one of the few lawn tables available.

“sit sit sit!” you say, pushing him into the one empty chair before unceremoniously plopping yourself down in his lap. dumbstruck, mingi just sits there with his hands lying limply against the armrests as you shuffle around in his fucking lap to find a comfortable position. every ounce of his energy is going towards not popping a boner right now.

instead, he focuses on trying to recognize the people sitting around the table. there’s kim hongjoong, the president of your campus radio org, and his boyfriend park seonghwa. beside them is chaewon, your best friend, also sitting in the lap of some guy who mingi assumes is her boyfriend.

shit—what are these people assuming about him, then? 

“here,” you say, thrusting a small object like a usb towards his lips. “take a hit of penelope.”

“penelope?” mingi’s like, still reeling from everything that’s happened in the last five minutes.

you giggle. “my pen. here.”

obediently, mingi leans towards and fits his lips around the tiny weed pen. it’s been a while since he last got high—yunho and wooyoung both run cross-country and don’t like messing around with drugs while they’re in season. he tries to take a shallow hit, but doesn’t end up getting anything, so he throws all caution to the wind and inhales deeply. the tangy sour smoke hits the back of his throat harder than the smooth mintyness of his elfbar, so of course—

he ends up coughing.

little puffs of smoke leave his mouth and nose as he splutters. thankfully, everyone barely laughs at him. in fact, hongjoong hands him a bottle of water which he chugs gratefully.

“sorry, been a while,” mingi rasps, when he finally manages to take a normal breath.

you hum and brush some of mingi’s hair behind his ear. “cute.”

this nearly sends mingi into another coughing fit, but he manages to just laugh breathlessly instead. clutching the water bottle to him like a lifeline, he sinks back into his chair so that maybe he can be less in the spotlight.

“—anyway,” chaewon says, and mingi lets out a sigh of relief at the turn of attention, “sannie, tell them about all the shit they made you do when you were a pledge.”

san—the one guy mingi didn’t know—sighs and pinches chaewon’s thigh.

“babe, you can’t just make me tell this story to everyone. trade secrets, and whatever.”

hongjoong snorts. “so they got you pretty good, huh?”

“goddamnit,” san is like.

so san regails them with the harrowing tale of him pledging SAE, and mingi finally lets himself relax. san has this soft, earnest voice, and it’s nice to listen to. at some point, you press penelope into his hand, and even later, mingi works up the courage to take another hit. this one is much more successful than the last, and gradually, mingi works up a nice buzz. it spurs him to tug you deeper into his lap, fit his hands around your waist—jesus, have you always been this small compared to him?

mingi has no idea how long he spends there, vibing with you and your friends. he’s halfway to asleep when suddenly he feels something trail along his jawline. he feels the telltale graze of lips against his skin, and his pulse jumps.

suddenly, he is incredibly awake.

you nose at his neck, leave the lightest of kisses. mingi becomes hyper aware of his surroundings, and finally realizes that conversation’s been dead for a while. chaewon is fully straddling san in his chair, and hongjoong and seonghwa have disappeared.

“you wanna get out of here?” you murmur.

“yeah. yeah.”

⋆⋆⋆

mingi is aware enough to shoot a text off to his group chat with yunho and wooyoung letting them know that he’s going home with someone. he feels an odd rush of validation from the subsequent onslaught of vulgar texts and emojis he gets in response.

your place isn’t far from greek row, so you walk there. once again, you have threaded your fingers together, and mingi is noticing for the first time just how small your hand is compared to his. with your other hand, you scroll through your spotify playlists, trying to find one that “fits the ambiance” of the walk before settling for one titled vaporwave vibes.

mingi is just happy to be involved.

you’re a giggly mess as you stumble-walk-run into your apartment.

“roommate—?” mingi asks, as two of you toe off your shoes, and you turn up the volume of your music.

“chaewon’s shacking up at the SAE house tonight,” you say, grinning. you lean in close to mingi and poke his nose. “so you can be as loud as you wanna be, baby.”

baby?!

you lead mingi to your bedroom, where you spare a few seconds to turn on a lamp that casts the room into a soft pink hue and plug your phone into a speaker. you choose a different playlist—one with soft r&b and lofi.

then, you crawl onto your bed, swaying your hips as you do. mingi just stares at you, suddenly very out of his depth. this feels infinitely different from making out in a storage closet. this is your apartment, your room, your bed.

you’re leaned back against your pillows now, head cocked and eyes half-lidded.

you spread you legs and beckon mingi to come closer.

“c’mon, baby. let’s have some fun, hm?”

like a man possessed, mingi steps forward until he hits the edge of the mattress, and then he falls onto his knees, shuffling forward until he’s hovering between your thighs.

“cute.”

mingi waits for you to make the first move, because that’s what he’s used to, and you do. you hook your hands around his neck and pull him down, presses your lips together chastely. mingi’s eyes flutter close, and he lets instinct take over.

you must be wearing something like lipgloss tonight, because your lips are tackier than last time, and they taste like cherry. mingi’s intoxicated by it. he deepens the kiss, adds some tongue. his hands run along your thighs, your hips, your waist.

you do that thing with his hair again, and he whimpers. he feels you smile. you move his hands over your chest, inviting him to really touch, and he moans involuntarily when he realizes that you’re not wearing a bra under your shirt. 

“take it off,” you breathe, and mingi obeys immediately.

“fuckk,” he whines when he sees your tits. “fuck—you’re so—”

he surges forward and fits his mouth over one of your nipples and sucks. this time, it’s you who moans, and the sense of triumph rushes straight to mingi’s dick. after only a few minutes of worshipping your tits, mingi is already so hard he could cut through glass.

“you, too,” you say, trying to pull off mingi’s shirt. “take this off—take it all off.”

so he strips. first his shirt, then his jeans. he curses as he struggles with the button and the zip—when choosing his outfit earlier, he’d only been thinking about how this pair are a little tight so they make his ass look good. now, he’s straining to get them off without looking like an idiot.

finally, he manages to tug the jeans down to mid-thigh, which means you get a better view of the outline of his cock in his briefs. at least he wore dark underwear so you can’t see the frankly embarrassing wet patch that mingi knows is there. he’s always leaked like a faucet.

"god, i knew you'd be big," you sigh as mingi finishes shucking off his pants ungracefully.

he freezes, feeling a little exposed but also a little bold.

"you- have you thought about me- this before?" he asks.

"of course," you smirk. "big shy boy like you? that's my favorite."

you sit up onto your elbows and reach forward with one hand to cup his bulge. you squeeze, and mingi keens. it takes every drop of mingi's self-control to not cum on the spot. instead he falls onto his forearms and buries his face into your neck.

“fuck,” he squeaks.

you continue to work his dick through his briefs, but with such a light, teasing touch that mingi starts rutting helplessly into your hand to get more friction. it’s been a while since someone else has gotten him off, and the weed is making him so so sensitive.

"wanna- wanna make you feel good," he pants, but he can’t stop grinding down against you like some stupid fucking dog. 

"yeah?” you goad. “you wanna fuck me with your big dumb cock? do you even know how to use that thing?"

mingi whimpers. “yes, yes—please. let me- let me show you. please.”

“okay, big boy,” you whisper into his ear, finally letting him go. “show me.”

mingi doesn’t waste any time after that. he pulls off your pants and your underwear in one go. he’s practically drooling at the sight of your cunt and can’t help himself from running a finger reverently through your folds.

you’re wet.

because of him.

he drops down in front of your pussy and licks a line from your entrance to your clit. you fucking moan. 

“yeah?” you say, all dominant like always but a little breathless. “you gonna prep me first? gonna prep me for your huge dick?”

in response, mingi attaches his mouth to your clit and buries a finger into your hole.

“ah—fuck!”

one finger turns into two into three quickly, as mingi works you open, all while lapping at your clit. he has limited experience with this so he’s not super confident in his ability, but you’re making these high-pitched noises that must mean he’s doing something right. and then you tug at his hair, forcing his head back.

“thought you were gonna fuck me?” you say.

“yes, yeah, sorry.”

mingi has enough wherewithal to ask about condoms and lube, and while he tugs off his underwear, you retrieve the stuff from your nightstand. he’s so keyed up that he fumbles the condom, can’t get a good grip to tear it open, and finally resorts to biting one corner with his teeth to rip off an edge. it works, and he spits out the little piece of foil somewhere onto the bed beside them.

“oh, fuck.” he hears, and it’s the first semblance of a whine from you.

with renewed vigor, mingi rolls the condom onto his dick, hissing at finally getting some stimulation after being hard and untouched for so long.

“c’mon, c’mon,” you say, throwing the lube at him. “hurry up.”

he squeezes some of the lube onto his hand—there’s a light red sheen to it and a faint scent of cherry. feverishly, he thinks the smell of cherries is going to be ruined for him forever as he spreads the lube over the condom.

and then he presses just the tip into your entrance, and already he knows he’s not going to last long. you’re just too warm, too wet, too tight.

“jesus,” he whimpers, as he presses deeper into your cunt. “you’re fucking perfect.”

“fuck,” you groan. “you’re so fucking big.”

“gonna- gonna make you feel good,” mingi promises. “gonna fuck you so good.”

when he’s finally bottomed out, he takes a second. he hopes it looks like he’s just being considerate of his size, but really it’s mostly for himself, to make sure he’s not a one thrust wonder. and then you clench around him.

“fuck!”

it startles him into moving—with a strong grip on your thighs, he thrusts into you with so much force that the bed frame groans. 

“ah- yeah, baby. just like that. fuck, so good. so good, so big—so full. fuck!”

you babble nonsense into his ear, but every syllable fuels mingi’s determination. he snaps his hips against yours until his thighs burn, and then some more. but even in spite of his sheer will, mingi is just a guy finally fucking the girl of his dreams, and so his orgasm sneaks up on him entirely too fast.

“oh, fuck. oh, fuck. i’m sorry, i’m sorry—i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna—”

he collapses onto you as he spills into the condom, his entire body twitching with pleasure from the sensation. seconds later, shame and guilt wash over him. he pulls out and crawls down your body to shove his face into your cunt.

he fingers you while he eats you out again, this time quirking his fingers for your g-spot. he’s delirious and desperate—needs to prove that he’s not just some guy who cums without getting off his partner. needs you to enjoy this as much as he is—needs you to want more.

“yeah, yeah, that’s a good boy,” you praise as he laps at your cunt like it’s his job. “so good, baby boy. so good. yeah, just like that—gonna cum. gonna—”

mingi can’t help himself. he pulls back when you climax so that he can watch. he finger-fucks you through it, but his focus is on the way your face scrunches up with euphoria, the way your back arches off the bed in pleasure.

finally, you shove his hand away.

“‘s too much,” you mumble, burying your face into your pillows.

mingi collapses down beside you, completely spent.

he comes to a few minutes later, when he feels the bed shift as you sit up. he must make some kind of noise, because you duck down close, brush the sweaty hair off of his forehead and kiss his temple.

“shh,” you soothe. “it’s okay. you can rest, baby. i’ll clean us up.”

“wait—let me help,” he slurs, starting to sit up.

“no no,” you coo, pushing him back down. “don’t worry, baby. i got it.”

mingi hums, too tired and spent anyway to argue. it’s nice, for once, to be the one being taken care of. he snuggles contently deeper into the bed.

it smells like sex and sweat, but also something kinda sweet. oh, right—cherries.

he drifts off to sleep soon after.

⋆⋆⋆

the next morning, mingi wakes up disoriented, pleasantly sore, but incredibly well-rested. the weed helped offset the alcohol, and the only grossness he feels is from not showering or brushing his teeth before falling asleep.

the bed is unfortunately empty, but the smell of fresh coffee in the air keeps mingi from spiraling too much about it. he lopes around the room, searching for his clothes. he locates those godforsaken tight jeans (which take him far too much effort to stuff himself back into), but doesn’t manage to find his shirt, so he sheepishly wanders into the kitchen shirtless like a moron.

the mystery of his shirt is solved immediately when he sees that you are wearing it. the hem falls right below your ass, and when you move a certain way, mingi can see the bottoms of your cheeks and the hint of black panties.

jesus, even after having the orgasm of his life last night, he’s still so easy.

“morning!” you chirp, when you notice his presence.

“morning,” mingi rasps. “can i- uh- can i help with anything?”

you pause to shoot him a big smile. “no, don’t worry, baby. just sit down. there’s coffee in that mug over there. milk in the fridge.”

mildly stunned at the revelation that your pet names aren’t exclusive to sexy time, mingi follows your instructions. he retrieves a carton of oat milk from the fridge and adds it to his coffee before hopping on a barstool at the kitchen island. he positively inhales the coffee, which must be some kind of special blend because it’s especially fragrant, and watches you bustle around the kitchen with efficiency.

the two of you settle into a comfortable silence, and it’s strangely intimate—domestic—but mingi doesn’t let that part of his imagination run too wild. for his own sanity, it’s probably best if he just takes whatever this is with you one day at a time.

soon, you slide a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and buttered toast in front of him. you prance into the barstool beside him, nudging it closer so that your knees touch under the countertop.

it smells heavenly, reminds him of weekend breakfasts with his own family, and before he can stop himself, he says,

“thanks, mommy.”

it’s the kind of shithead joke he pulls with yunho and wooyoung often, but with you, it drips with subtext. over the rim of your coffee cup, you raise an eyebrow at him, and he feels his entire face heat up with embarrassment.

“i mean- um—”

“didn’t know you were into that kinda stuff,” you coo. “guess i’ll have to remember that for next time.”

mingi digs into his eggs so that he doesn’t have to look you in the eye while he processes that. next time?!

the rest of breakfast passes uneventfully. you take the reins of the conversation, yapping about your thoughts on chaewon’s frat bro boyfriend. mingi gives all the appropriate reactions at the appropriate times and just basks in the joy of eating a home-cooked breakfast the morning after having sex with his long-time crush.

later, mingi will rinse off your dishes and load them into the dishwasher, and you will return his shirt to him before sending him off with another chaste kiss to the cheek. mingi decides to walk back to his own apartment even though it’s nearly a mile away. but the sun is shining and the birds are chirping and his phone—barely hanging on with 10% battery—buzzes in his pocket with a single text:

y/n l/n has invited you to collaborate on a playlist: mommy issues ;)

[heartsriki]

WHEN GOSSIP MEETS LOVE ⌇ 함께

pairing ᝰ sunghoon x fem!reader — featuring.. Jake (as jaeyun) & Riki | word count: 6.6k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ office romance, boss! sunghoon, fluff, tiny angst, make-outs, getting drunk, isolation, passing out, reader is blunt, sunghoon is arrogant at times.

synopsis — after being saved by Sunghoon on your first week of the job, you have had a blatant crush on him to the point the whole office knows. Later he learned of your interest, usually he wouldn’t care but why wont you make a move?

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊so this turned out way longer than expected… PLEASE READ THE BONUS ITS SO CUTE— Also I love me a semi arrogant man who gets put in his place 👅

Today was supposed to be just another day at the office. The same mind-numbing tasks, the same stale air, the same routine. The only thing that ever really changed around here was the gossip, and honestly, you kind of lived for it.

As you strolled down the hallway with a stack of papers in hand, you noticed your coworkers gathered in a huddle, whispering excitedly. Curiosity piqued, and you set the papers down on a nearby desk and wandered over.

“What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

The group turned to you, immediately shushing you before gesturing toward the glass-walled conference room. “Look,” one of them whispered, pointing.

You followed their gaze to the meeting in progress—specifically, to the group of men seated at the table. Raising a brow, you asked, “So… we’re just staring at men now?”

One of the girls grinned, barely able to contain her excitement. “Not just men. They just hired Mr. Kim Sunoo. Isn’t he dreamy? He’s totally my type.”

Another chimed in, dramatically clutching her chest. “What I wouldn’t give to get a piece of Mr. Lee. Ugh, it’s unfair how perfect he is.”

You stood there, unimpressed, letting your eyes wander to the man sitting at the end of the table.

“What about you, Y/N?” one of them asked, nudging you with her elbow. “Anyone in there catch your eye?”

Before you could answer, a sharp cough sounded behind you, making the entire group freeze.

“Do you ladies have no shame?” Jaeyun drawled, raising an eyebrow as he sipped his coffee.

“Jesus, Mr. Sim, would it kill you to mind your own business?” one of the girls snapped, rolling her eyes.

Jaeyun chuckled. “And miss out on this? Never. Besides, everyone knows who Y/N’s been crushing on.”

You immediately stiffened, while the other two girls exchanged looks. Their eyes darted to where you were staring—at him.

“Mr. Park?”

“No way! He’s such an asshole.”

“You could do so much better.”

Their words blurred into background noise as you kept your gaze locked on Park Sunghoon, your so-called “crush.” But they didn’t get it. They couldn’t possibly understand. To them, he was cold and aloof—practically a robot. But to you? He was… interesting.

You didn’t always feel that way. When you started at the company a year ago, you weren’t interested in men—or dating at all. You were laser-focused on your career, and determined to climb the corporate ladder. Then you met him.

It all started your first week on the job. The office wasn’t the soul-crushing nightmare you’d seen in movies. Your little corner office was cozy, and your workload was manageable. Things were going smoothly���until they weren’t.

Some of the senior employees, jealous of your early success, had sabotaged your presentation for an important meeting. As you stood in front of the board fumbling through the slides, your confidence crumbled. Your hands shook, your throat felt dry, and your face burned with humiliation. Then, out of nowhere, he walked in.

Park Sunghoon strode up to your computer with an air of calm authority, plugging in a USB without a word. The correct presentation appeared on the screen, and you blinked in disbelief.

The head of the board narrowed his eyes. “Mr. Park, care to explain your tardiness?”

“I apologize,” Sunghoon said smoothly. “But I caught some employees tampering with Ms. Y/N’s presentation. I thought it necessary to intervene.”

The board members exchanged glances before nodding, motioning for you to continue. Your real presentation went off without a hitch, earning praise from the directors. But all you could think about was the man who had saved you from disaster.

After the meeting, you waited outside the conference room, nervously clutching your notes. As soon as Sunghoon stepped out, you followed him, finally mustering the courage to tap him on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, Mr. Park?”

He turned, his expression blank but expectant. “Yes?”

“I just… wanted to thank you for what you did back there,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper.

His reply was cold and clipped. “I didn’t do it for you. I did it because I don’t tolerate workplace sabotage. Don’t expect me to save you again.”

Then he walked away, leaving you speechless.

A normal person might’ve been offended. Maybe even angry. But you? You were utterly smitten. How many men these days are that serious and passionate about their work? And let’s be honest—how many of them looked like that?

From that moment on, Park Sunghoon was your ideal man: hardworking, principled, and impossibly handsome. Sure, the whole office thought you were crazy for crushing on him, but they didn’t see what you see.

And as you stood there, watching him from across the room, you couldn’t help but wonder what he else he had underneath that surface.

A week after that little encounter with your coworkers, fate seemed to step in when you were assigned to lead a project—with none other than Mr. Park as your supervisor. Coincidence? You didn’t think so.

Now, as you sat in his office, he was going on about the plans and blueprints for the project. But you? You weren’t paying much attention. Your chin rested on your hands as you stared at him, absolutely transfixed.

“The peak must be at—Ms. Y/N, are you even listening?”

You blinked, snapping out of your trance. “Of course I am,” you replied with a bright, innocent smile.

He hummed, unconvinced. “Alright, then. How do you feel about placing it on Downtown Avenue?”

You nodded immediately. “Sounds great.”

His sharp gaze bore into you as he placed his pen down. “Interesting answer,” he mused, leaning forward until your faces were so close they nearly touched. “I never mentioned Downtown Avenue.”

Your eyes widened, and you quickly leaned back in your chair, flustered. Heat rose to your cheeks as you scrambled to regain composure. “I—I’m sorry, Mr. Park. Please continue. I’m listening now.”

He didn’t look convinced but leaned back into his chair, eyes narrowing slightly. “Alright.”

For all his calm professionalism, Sunghoon couldn’t quite figure you out. Sure, you were talented—he couldn’t deny that. But you were also incredibly dishonest, something he’d picked up on a month ago.

From the moment you first met, he could feel your gaze on him, as if you had a personal vendetta. He figured you hated him for how blunt he’d been during that initial meeting. But as time passed, he realized it was the exact opposite.

The revelation had come during a lunch break with the other department heads.

“What about you, Mr. Park?” one of them asked, smirking. “Is there a special lady waiting for you at home?”

Sunghoon raised a brow, finishing a bite of his food before setting his utensils down. “No, I live alone.”

The man hummed, and the others chuckled knowingly. Then, one of them leaned forward. “What about Ms. Y/N?”

At that, Sunghoon froze. “Excuse me?” he asked, voice cold.

The man chuckled nervously, straightening up. “Well, everyone knows how much she’s into you. Why don’t you give her a chance?”

The words threw Sunghoon off completely. “How much she’s into me?” he repeated, utterly confused. “Why would she be?”

For the first time in a long while, Sunghoon felt genuinely flustered. The idea that you might like him had never crossed his mind. And once the seed was planted, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

His first instinct was to let you down easy. He’d been pursued before and thought it best to nip things in the bud. But when it came to you, things didn’t go as planned. Every time he tried to confront you, the words just wouldn’t come out.

In his frustration, he turned to Jaeyun, the office gossip king.

“Mr. Sim,” Sunghoon began, his voice strained. “Just tell me already.”

Jaeyun turned away, arms crossed. “I’m not spilling Y/N’s secrets.”

Sunghoon’s patience was wearing thin. “I’ll give you my year-end bonus.”

Jaeyun’s head whipped around, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Deal. Yes, she’s interested in you, but not enough to ask you out.”

Sunghoon raised a brow. “What do you mean, ‘not enough’? Are you saying I’m not worth asking out?”

Jaeyun held his hands up defensively. “No, no, she’s just focused on her career right now. Don’t take it personally.”

But Sunghoon did take it personally. The idea of someone liking him and not acting on it? It didn’t sit well with him. His pride was bruised.

From then on, he started coaxing you, trying to provoke you into asking him out. At office dinners, he’d sit near you, only for you to switch tables. In meetings, you avoided eye contact as if it were a matter of life and death. It was infuriating.

And now, as he explained the project, you sat across from him, staring at him like he was the center of your universe. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ms. Y/N,” he said abruptly.

“Hm?” you hummed, snapping back to attention.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes scrutinizing you. “Have you heard the latest office gossip?”

You tilted your head, confused. “I don’t think so, sir. But what does that—”

“I heard the women in the office are all over our new hire, Mr. Kim,” he interrupted. “Are you one of them?”

Your brow furrowed, suspicious of his sudden interest. “Well, I haven’t had the chance to speak to Mr. Kim yet, so—”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” he groaned, rubbing his temples. “I know you’re interested in me.”

Your eyes widened at his bluntness, but instead of denying it, you relaxed. “Yes, that’s right.”

His jaw tightened. “Then why haven’t you said anything? You lack initiative—”

You cut him off, staring at him dead in the eye. “Are you interested in me, Mr. Park?”

The question caught him off guard. His ears turned red as he replied, “No, I’m not.”

“Then why would I ask you out?” you shot back, your tone calm and collected.

He was stunned into silence. Since when did you have the upper hand in this conversation?

“Because it would allow you to get over me quicker,” he said, straightening his tie.

You stared at him for a moment before bursting into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” he demanded, his pride wounded.

“You think too highly of yourself, Mr. Park,” you said, standing up. “Did you think I’d beg for you? My work is more important than any man—even you.”

With that, you turned and walked out of his office, leaving him frozen in place.

For the first time, Park Sunghoon felt like he’d underestimated someone. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t going to let you off that easily.

In the days following your conversation with Sunghoon, you noticed a subtle shift in his behavior. The once-distant supervisor now seemed to find reasons to linger near your workspace, his presence a constant, albeit silent, companion. It was almost endearing, watching him struggle with the unfamiliar territory of being put in his place.

Today, his strategy appeared to involve hovering nearby, perhaps hoping you’d initiate a conversation. His restlessness was overwhelming. Should he apologize? But that would require him to make the first move, a notion that likely clashed with his pride.

Seeking guidance, Sunghoon found himself seated across from Jaeyun at an upscale restaurant—a setting procured through the promise of an expensive dinner. Jaeyun, the holder of all office gossip, knew how to drive a bargain.

“Alright, talk. Has she mentioned anything?” Sunghoon inquired, his impatience barely concealed.

Jaeyun took a deliberate sip of his wine before responding. “Nope, not a word.”

Sunghoon’s frustration was evident. “Nothing? Are you sure?”

Jaeyun nodded, his gaze drifting to the gorgeous night view outside. “I swear. I mean, she’s been busy lately. Extremely busy.”

Sunghoon’s curiosity was piqued. “Explain, Mr. Sim.”

“Please call me Jaeyun, we’re not at work.” Jaeyun said.

Sunghoon gulped never being informal before. “Okay…. Jaeyun— please elaborate.”

Setting his utensils down, Jaeyun sighed. “Well, besides the project you two are working on, she also has financial responsibilities concerning her family, especially her younger brother.”

Sunghoon listened intently.

“She’s been working overtime to gather extra funds for his tuition. I heard he’s exceptionally talented in the entertainment field, but their family isn’t wealthy enough to cover the expenses.”

Sunghoon absorbed the information, No he didn’t understand. Sunghoon has been fortunate his whole life but he was open to learning. He sat there contemplating his next move.

Jaeyun’s voice broke through his thoughts. “What’s all this for anyway? Do you like her?”

Sunghoon scoffed. “Why would you think that?”

Jaeyun smirked. “Who goes this far to reject a woman?”

Sunghoon pondered the remark. Perhaps you had made more of an impression on him than he cared to admit. Interest? Maybe.

“Okay, how should I approach this? What does she like? Purses? Jewelry?”

Jaeyun chuckled. “Wait, you’re serious? Oh man, you really have no idea…”

Sunghoon remained silent, a faint blush coloring his ears and face.

“Just be normal, Show her you care.” Jaeyun observed Sunghoon’s puzzled expression. “If you really need to buy her something, get her some food. She enjoys a good meal.”

Now that was something Sunghoon could manage. If he was going to reach out to you, a thoughtful gesture like sharing a meal might be the perfect starting point.

Sunghoon wanted to do something nice for you. A nice thought quickly turned into an overbearing gesture.

One day, you found a paper bag in your office. Inside were sweets from the bakery just a few minutes away from the building. Even though they weren’t your favorite, you appreciated the gesture and ate them. Sunghoon saw you smile through your office blinds a safe distance away and felt happy. He quickly looked around to make sure no one noticed and then walked away.

After that, he started leaving more and more food in your office. It became overwhelming. Today, you walked in and saw so much food that it startled you. You had figured out it was Sunghoon; he wasn’t very sneaky, especially after you caught him leaving your office last week.

This was too much. How could you eat all this? You sighed, closed your office door, and walked to Sunghoon’s office. You knocked.

“Come in,” he said.

You entered, giving him a sharp look. He stood up, adjusting his suit.

“Ms. Y/N?” he asked, looking confused.

“Mr. Park, how much longer are you going to leave all that food in my office?”

He blinked. “What do you mean?”

You crossed your arms. “Did you really think I could eat all that in one sitting?”

He gulped, running a hand through his hair.

“And do you even know what foods I like? What if I was allergic to some of them?”

He scoffed walking over to you slowly. “What do you like then? What are you allergic to?” He was now very close.

“Can’t hate a man you haven’t given a chance, don’t you think?”

Your face turned red. You were stunned by his bluntness. “What are you talking about?”

“What are you doing tonight?” he asked.

You tried to keep your composure. “I don’t have plans, but—”

“Okay, I’ll be waiting for you after work then.”

You didn’t believe him at first. You’ve met many arrogant men who talk big, so you assumed he was the same.

After a seemingly long task, you finally finished your job, clocking out. You exited the building and saw him leaning on his car, arms crossed with his eyebrows furrowed like always. When he saw you, his eyes softened. He gave you a small smile and opened the passenger door.

This was new, but you went along, got in the car, and he closed the door behind you. You didn’t see it but, He checked his hair in his phone’s reflection before getting in.

As he drove, you admired the city view. The lights of the night never got old to you. But sooner than later curiosity got the better of you. “Where are we going?”

He glanced at you through the mirror before focusing back on the road. “Dinner at ‘The Villa.’”

Your eyes widened. “Are you serious? That place is expensive and fancy.”

He nodded. “I thought you’d enjoy it.”

You sighed. You could see he was trying, but fancy restaurants weren’t your thing. An idea popped into your head. “Turn here Mr. Park, I know a place we can go.”

He looked at you, puzzled, but followed your directions. You guided him to a small restaurant. As you both got out, he seemed disappointed when you didn’t let him open the door for you but brushed it off.

He looked around, not seeing any fancy places. “Is this it? A grill?”

You turned to him with the prettiest smile he’d ever seen on you. “Yup! Come on.” You reached out your hand.

Usually, he wouldn’t choose a place like this, but with a smile like that, he’d follow you anywhere. He took your hand, and you both went inside.

Inside, the atmosphere was cozy and lively. The smell of grilled food filled the air. You found a table, and he awkwardly sat down, clearly out of his element.

A server came by, placing a small grill in the center of your table and bringing plates of raw meat and vegetables. Sunghoon looked confused.

You giggled. “It’s a DIY grill. We cook our own food here.”

He raised an eyebrow. “We… cook?”

You nodded, picking up a piece of meat with the tongs and placing it on the grill. It sizzled, and the aroma was mouth-watering.

He watched you, then hesitantly picked up the tongs. He tried to mimic your actions but fumbled, almost dropping the meat.

You laughed, reaching over to guide his hand. “Like this.”

As the evening went on, you both cooked, ate, and talked. Sunghoon shared stories about his upbringing, and you told him about your family. He was clumsy with the grill, burning some pieces and undercooking others, but you found it endearing.

At one point, he tried to flip a piece of meat and it flew off the grill, landing on the table. He looked mortified, but you burst into laughter.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling. “I’m not used to this.”

You smiled. “It’s okay. It’s fun.”

By the end of the night, the initial awkwardness had faded.

After a delightful dinner at the grill, you and Sunghoon stepped outside, the cool night air brushing against your skin. The city lights twinkled in the distance, casting a soft glow over the streets. As you walked side by side, you noticed a small park nearby, its swings gently swaying in the breeze.

“How about a walk in the park?” you suggested, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Sunghoon glanced at the swings, a hint of hesitation in his eyes. “I haven’t been on a swing in years,” he admitted, a slight chuckle escaping his lips.

“Well, tonight’s the perfect night to revisit childhood memories,” you teased, nudging him playfully.

With a resigned smile, he agreed, “Alright, lead the way.”

You both approached the swings, and you took a seat on one, motioning for him to join you. He hesitated for a moment, then sat beside you, his posture stiff and unsure.

“Just relax,” you encouraged, giving him a gentle push. “I got you.”

As the swing moved, Sunghoon’s expression softened, and a genuine smile appeared on his face. He began to swing higher, his laughter blending with the night air.

“See? It’s fun,” you said, your voice filled with joy.

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours. “No, you’re the one making it fun Ms, Y/N.”

You both continued to swing, the world around you fading away. The simple act of swinging together brought a sense of closeness and comfort, a shared moment of happiness.

After a while, you slowed the swing and stood up. “Shall we continue our walk?”

“Of course,” he said, his voice soft.

As you walked through the park, you talked about everything and nothing—your dreams, your favorite books, the places you wanted to visit. The conversation flowed effortlessly, and with each step, you felt a deeper connection forming between you.

That night with Sunghoon felt like it was straight out of a dream—a memory you knew would replay in your mind over and over again. He wasn’t at all what you’d expected. Sure, he had an air of arrogance, and his confidence sometimes teetered on egotistical, but once you broke through that wall, he was entirely different. Genuine. Kind. Charming in a way that made you question how you’d ever misjudged him.

You’d never felt this kind of excitement in a long time, this sense of longing and hope for something more. A relationship. He hadn’t officially asked you out yet, but it felt inevitable. You’d already started imagining how it might all unfold.

But that was just wishful thinking.

The next day, as you walked into the office, you couldn’t ignore the way whispers followed you down the hallway. People stealing glances at you, hurriedly looking away when you caught their eye. At first, you brushed it off. Office gossip was nothing new. Maybe someone had spilled coffee on their boss again.

But the moment you saw your phone light up with notifications—hundreds of them—you realized you were the center of the latest spectacle.

It wasn’t just office chatter. It was everywhere. Tabloids, social media, magazines, blogs. Photos of you and Sunghoon—laughing together, standing too close, looking too comfortable. But that wasn’t the worst part. The headlines? They were brutal.

“Is Riki Nishimura’s Older Sister Using Park Sunghoon for Fame?”

“Dating Rumors Could Derail His Career!”

“How Will This Affect HER Younger Brother’s Future?”

Your stomach churned as you scrolled. At first, you laughed bitterly, brushing it off as ridiculous speculation. But then, you saw the headline about your brother. Your little brother, who had worked so hard to get where he was. Your heart sank.

If they wanted to drag your name through the mud, fine. But dragging your family into it? Threatening Riki’s career? That crossed a line.

You paced the floor of your office, wracking your brain for a solution. There was only one answer. It wasn’t fair, but it was the only way. You and Sunghoon… this thing between you—it couldn’t happen. Not if it meant jeopardizing your brother’s future.

The tears came slowly at first, then all at once as you slumped into your chair, burying your face in your hands. You hadn’t even realized how much you’d come to cherish what you began to have with Sunghoon until now, as you were being forced to let it go.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon had no idea what was happening. He was in his office, practically glowing, still riding the high from the time you spent together. He couldn’t wait to see you.

On his break, he searched for you. The lounge. The meeting room. Even your office. But you were nowhere to be found.

Frustrated, he turned to his co-worker—and now trusted friend—Jaeyun.

“Jaeyun, have you seen Y/N?” he asked, his tone casual, but his impatience obvious.

Jaeyun’s expression fell, pity flashing in his eyes. “Y/N? She… she put in for a two-week leave this morning. I figured you knew.”

Sunghoon’s heart sank. “What? Why? What happened?”

Jaeyun gave him a pointed look. “You haven’t seen the news, have you?”

Frowning, Sunghoon pulled out his phone, quickly typing in his name. The search results made his breath hitch. Article after article, photos, speculation, your name tied to his, your family dragged into the chaos.

Then he saw the headline about your brother. His grip on the phone tightened. He knew what you were thinking. Knew why you’d disappeared. And there was no way he was going to let this spiral any further.

Without a second thought, he called your number. Once. Twice. Three times. Each attempt went to voicemail.

Panic bubbled in his chest. He couldn’t let you do this—not alone, not to yourself, not to your relationship.

He barked an order to his assistant to start taking down the articles, to figure out who was behind this mess. But first, he needed to find you.

And when he did, he wasn’t going to let you push him away.

The days felt endless as you holed up in your apartment, your only companions being guilt and loneliness. It had been a week since you requested a two-week leave, and in that time, you hadn’t dared step foot outside. The weight of the news, the whispers, and the consequences of your choices pressed down on you like a heavy blanket.

The day you left the office, you called Riki, your voice trembling as you asked if he was okay. He reassured you that everything was fine—for now. His management had advised him to lay low until the rumors blew over. He didn’t sound angry, but that almost made it worse. You felt like you’d dragged him into your mess, and the guilt ate away at you.

Since then, you’d spent most of your time thinking about Sunghoon. Replaying the moments you’d shared, wondering how he felt, and most of all, worrying about what you’d say to him when you eventually faced him again. Did he care that much? Or had this all been one-sided? These questions swirled in your mind endlessly as you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Desperate to drown out your thoughts, you remembered the new bar that had recently opened near your apartment. Without much thought, you dragged yourself out of bed, threw on some clothes, and headed out.

The bar was dimly lit, buzzing with quiet conversations and the occasional burst of laughter. You didn’t waste any time. One drink turned into two, then three, then four. You lost count after that, the haze of alcohol dulling your thoughts until you didn’t feel much of anything. Eventually, your body gave in, and you slumped over, unconscious.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon was unraveling.

It had been a week since he last saw you, and the distance was driving him insane. Every attempt to find you ended in failure. He didn’t know where you lived, your favorite places, or even how to contact your family. It frustrated him to no end, and it hurt even more to think that you might be avoiding him.

Every evening, he found himself at the small grill you both went to, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Tonight was no different. He stood outside the familiar spot, his hands shoved into his coat pockets as he tried to stave off the cold.

The buzz of his phone broke through his thoughts, and his heart leapt when he saw your name on the screen. He fumbled to answer, pressing the phone to his ear.

“Y/N? Where are you—”

“Are you friends with the owner of this phone?” a deep, unfamiliar voice interrupted.

Sunghoon blinked, pulling the phone away to confirm it was your number on the display. Confusion settled in. “Uh, yeah? Who is this? Why do you have her phone?”

“No worries,” the man replied. “She’s passed out in my bar. I found her phone unlocked and figured I’d call someone. Can you come pick her up?”

Sunghoon’s heart dropped. “Where is she?”

The man gave him the location, and Sunghoon didn’t hesitate. He bolted to his car and sped through the city, his mind racing with questions. Were you okay? Why were you at a bar alone this late?

When he arrived, he barely parked the car before running inside. His eyes scanned the room until they landed on you. Slumped over the bar, your head resting on your arms, you looked so vulnerable. Relief and worry collided in his chest as he approached you.

“You’re Hoon, right?” the bartender asked, eyeing him curiously.

Sunghoon blinked in confusion before realizing the name was probably how you saved his contact. He smiled faintly, nodding. “Yeah, that’s me.”

The bartender nodded and stepped away, leaving Sunghoon to focus on you. His chest tightened when he saw how puffy your eyes were, evidence of the tears you’d cried before drinking yourself into this state.

He crouched beside you, placing a gentle hand on your back. “Y/N… can you walk?”

Your eyes fluttered open, blurry and unfocused as they locked with his. For a moment, you looked like you were seeing a ghost.

“Hoon?” you slurred softly, your voice tinged with disbelief.

He sighed in relief. “Yeah, it’s me. Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

But when you didn’t move, he frowned. You were too out of it to help him. He checked your phone, hoping for some clue about where to take you, but it was locked.

He hesitated. Taking you to his place didn’t feel right, but with no other options and the clock striking midnight, he made a decision.

“You’ll understand, right?” he murmured to himself, draping his coat over your shoulders. He carefully helped you to your feet, guiding you out of the bar and into his car.

The drive to his penthouse was quiet, save for your soft breathing. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at you, the city lights illuminating your face in a way that made his chest ache. Even like this, you were beautiful.

When they arrived, getting you upstairs was a challenge. You slumped against him, muttering incoherently and occasionally whining about how tired you were. By the time he managed to unlock his door and get you inside, he was exhausted.

He guided you to his bedroom, laying you down gently on the bed. As he adjusted his coat on your shoulders, he heard you mumble something. When he turned back, his face turned bright red.

“Why is it so hot?” you grumbled, fumbling with the buttons of your shirt.

“Woah, hey—don’t do that!” he yelped, grabbing your hands to stop you. “Just… just wait, I’ll turn on the AC!”

He backed away, keeping a wary eye on you as he adjusted the thermostat. When he returned, he brought a glass of water, helping you sit up to drink. “There, that’s better, hm?”

You sighed, lying back down with a soft hum of approval.

Sunghoon turned to leave, planning to sleep on the couch, but you grabbed his wrist, your eyes wide and pleading. “Hoon… stay. Please?”

His heart clenched. How could he ever say no to you?

“Alright,” he whispered, circling the bed and lying down on the other side, facing the ceiling. He felt awkward, unsure of what to do, but within moments, you shifted closer, resting your head on his chest.

He froze, his heart pounding as he felt your steady breaths against him. Slowly, he relaxed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, his eyes fluttering shut as sleep finally claimed him.

The glow of the sun streamed through the curtains, forcing you to stir awake. The dull throbbing in your head hit as soon as you sat up, and you winced, bringing a hand to your temple.

Blinking, you took in your surroundings. The room was unfamiliar—sleek, modern, and definitely not your own. Panic began to rise in your chest as you tried to piece together the events of the previous night. You remembered the bar, the drinks, and then… nothing.

Your eyes widened as you looked down at yourself, relieved to find you were still in your clothes. But then you spotted the figure lying beside you, their back turned to you.

Oh no.

You gasped, clutching the pillow you’d been sleeping on, and without thinking, you began smacking the man’s back with it in a panic. “Who are you?! What is this?! Did we—?!”

The man bolted awake, flinching and shielding himself with his arms. “Hey! Hey! Stop!” he shouted, scrambling backward until he fell off the bed with a loud thud.

You froze mid-swing, the familiar voice cutting through your panic. Slowly, you leaned over the edge of the bed, clutching the pillow tightly.

“Sunghoon?” you whispered, your eyes wide.

He was sprawled on the floor, wincing as he rubbed the back of his head. His legs were awkwardly bent in the air, and he looked up at you with an awkward, sheepish smile. “Uh, hi.”

You let out a deep breath, sitting back on the bed. “Oh my god,” you muttered, dragging your hands down your face.

Sunghoon quickly got up, brushing himself off as he looked at you with a mix of concern and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I should’ve explained sooner. We didn’t… y’know, do anything.”

Your cheeks burned as you glanced up at him. “Are you sure?”

His ears turned bright pink as he nodded fervently. “Yes! I swear. You passed out at the bar, and I didn’t know where you lived, so I brought you here. That’s it, I promise.”

You relaxed slightly, but the tension in the room remained heavy. The silence that followed was suffocating, neither of you knowing what to say.

Finally, you broke it, your voice trembling. “Sunghoon… our relationship has to end here.”

His head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with disbelief. “What? Why?”

You avoided his gaze, staring at the sheets instead. “I’m sure you’ve seen the news. They’re dragging my brother into this, and I can’t let that happen. I can’t risk his career for my selfish desires.”

“Y/N—“

“What we had was nice,” you interrupted, your voice cracking slightly. “But it’s better for everyone if we stop seeing each other.”

He stepped closer, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You should check the tabloids again.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What do you mean?”

Sunghoon grabbed his phone from the nightstand, quickly pulling up the articles before handing it to you. You hesitated, but as you scrolled, your breath caught.

The scandal was gone. There were no articles tearing you apart, no headlines about your brother being caught up in rumors. Instead, there were positive comments, even a few articles praising the supposed romance.

“How… how did this happen?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sunghoon sighed softly, sitting down beside you. His voice was gentle but firm. “I made it happen. I wasn’t going to let them ruin your life, or your brother’s, over something like this.”

You turned to look at him, his face close to yours. His expression was so sincere, so full of quiet determination, that it made your chest ache.

“Why would you do that?” you asked, your voice trembling.

“Because I care about you,” he said simply. “And I’m not giving up on us that easily.”

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. Your eyes locked, and in that moment, all the fear, doubt, and guilt melted away.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his tentatively. Sunghoon froze for a split second before responding, his hand cupping your cheek as he deepened the kiss. It was soft and slow at first, filled with all the emotions neither of you had been able to express.

But soon, the kiss grew more passionate, more desperate, as if you were both trying to make up for all the lost time and the moments you almost didn’t have. His other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair.

Soft sighs fell from the both of you as he laid you back on the bed. His hand exploring your body softly and slowly.

You took the chance to snake your hands below his shirt, scratching his back slightly making him shutter against you.

When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting against each other.

“Sunghoon,” you whispered, your voice shaky but certain. “Thank you.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “Anything for you.”

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

“Hoon, get up,” you said softly, glancing down at Sunghoon, who was sprawled across your chest like he had no intention of moving.

“Mm,” he hummed lazily, burying his face into you as if that would make you forget about work entirely.

You let out a soft laugh, stroking his hair absentmindedly. The moment your fingers ran through his dark locks, you realized you’d made a mistake—he let out a content sigh and snuggled in closer, clearly sinking even deeper into his sleepy state.

“We have to go to work,” you said, this time playfully, though your hands still gently tangled in his hair.

“I don’t want to,” he mumbled, his pout evident even though his face was tucked against you. God, he was so cute.

You smiled softly, shaking your head. “Well, we have responsibilities we can’t ignore, so you need to get up, Hoon.”

When he didn’t respond, you rolled your eyes, deciding to switch tactics. “If you get up, I’ll give you a reward,” you said, your tone light but teasing.

That did it. His head immediately shot up, his sleepy eyes now wide with interest. “What kind of reward?” he asked, a mischievous smile spreading across his face.

You smirked, leaning back slightly as his head rested on your chest, his eyes glinting with curiosity. “You’ll find out if you get up,” you teased, brushing a stray lock of hair away from his face.

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not entirely convinced. “That’s suspicious,” he murmured, though the corner of his lips quirked into a small smile. “Is it worth it?”

“More than worth it,” you said confidently, trying to stifle a laugh. “But you’re never going to know if you keep laying there.”

He groaned dramatically, still clinging to you like you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the bed. “You’re not making this easy, you know.”

“Well, you’re the one being stubborn,” you replied, gently pushing at his shoulder, though he didn’t budge.

Then, in one swift motion, he propped himself up on his elbows, his face dangerously close to yours. “Okay,” he said, his voice low and playful. “I’m up. Where’s my reward?”

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden proximity, his teasing grin making your heart race. “Patience,” you said, trying to keep your composure. “You’re not fully up yet. Get ready for work first.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think. “Hmm, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

“It’s implied,” you countered, laughing softly as you tried to push him off the bed.

But instead of moving, Sunghoon leaned even closer, his warm breath fanning over your cheeks. “I think I deserve at least a preview,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours ever so slightly.

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to glare at him, but it was impossible when his mischievous grin was so disarming. “You’re impossible,” you muttered, but before you could say anything else, he closed the distance, capturing your lips in a soft but lingering kiss.

It started playful, his lips tugging into a smile against yours, but quickly turned deeper, his hand cupping the side of your face as he kissed you with a tenderness that made your heart skip. He pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips, “Best reward ever.”

You rolled your eyes, still breathless. “Now get up, Hoon. Or that'll be the last one you'll ever get.”

He laughed, finally pulling himself out of bed. “Fine, fine. You’re the boss in this house.”

He disappeared into the bathroom, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, your cheeks warm as you touched your lips. Sunghoon always had a way of turning your mornings into something unforgettable.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"TOP OF MY SCHOOL"

SYNOPSIS: How an archer!reader first met Green Arrow and became White Arrow.

You've always been an overachiever, but that's not your fault; most people are underachievers. If your mom ever taught you anything, it was to reach for the stars and aim for the biggest and brightest one there is, and watch it explode into tiny little stars that can inspire the next dreamer and believer. So here you are at this archery tournament; you worked so hard to reach the finals. Your fingers might hate you, but that trophy will be in the manor, shining brighter than all the trophies and medals collected by the rest of the family. It's big, golden, and stunning. You don't care about the prize money—pfft, you're rich. You care about outshining all the Waynes, especially your father. Bruce's awards would look like baby medals compared to yours, and he'll notice you; he'll notice his baby and all the hard work they've done. The damage to your fingers is temporary, but the win is forever; the win is for life.

So there you are, hitting bullseye after bullseye, smirking like never before, perfect position, back straight, eyes forward. Who would you be if you didn't win? You wouldn't deserve the name Wayne if you didn't win; you wouldn't deserve to show your face outside of the manor gates. Ha, you would even say your name. Final game, and you're up next. Oh, you were gonna knock the judges off their feet, and you're gonna play them for fools when this is all said and done. So remember your stance: feet apart, back straight, head forward, elbows straight, bowstring near eye level. You could feel the tip of your fingers slipping with the toughness of the string for the bow, but you won't let it bother you; smile through the pain.

You look up at the stands; you see your judges and the people in the stands. You see Alfred and your school friends, but the seat you left for him is empty. You've been telling him about that tournament for days on end; you didn't shut up about this. You made him write it on his schedule board and his computer, yet he still isn't here. Rage is seeping through you. Bruce, you promised! He went to Damian's soccer game—the one he LOST—went to Jason's spelling bee, and Steph's track meets, but this is the most important moment of your life, and he isn't here. You wouldn't stop talking about it at the table, even when you knew no one was listening. This was your dream; this was your life goal, and he dropped it for what—a stupid ballet recital from Cass?

You're staring up at the stands, that empty chair you left for him. You felt the arrow slip through your fingers, and a loud "WISSH" went past you. Turning back fast, you saw that you hit orange, throwing you off your win streak of only hitting bullseyes. But it's okay, as long as the other kids don't outdo you when it's their turn. But they did; that slip-up was their chance. Every single time the arrow points red, you feel like they are aiming at you, shooting down your pride, your ambition, your hard work—everything you did to get here. You felt each arrow piercing through your very being, leaving you bloody. Your fingers clenched; you could feel the trickle of blood coming from your bandages. You knew you were going to lose when the game was set and match, and you were on the podium.

The judges were handing out the awards, and you closed your eyes, hoping that someway, somehow, you won. You had your hand open for something, but then felt another thing wrapped around your neck. It was a medal—a medal. Maybe it was gold, and the real trophy was coming out. But when you opened your eyes, you saw a silver medal wrapped around your neck. Silver, not gold. Silver. You felt red-hot tears prickle down your face. You wanted gold. You had the best shots each round; you missed just one—just one. You didn't deserve this; you didn't. But if you looked over your shoulder, you could see the kid who won—the tears of happiness that flowed down their face, holding the trophy way up high. That was supposed to be you. You were supposed to be the one highest on the podium. You meant to take this trophy to Bruce, show him what you could do, show that you were worth the time and trouble, and for one moment, he could see you as one of his own. He could see you as his. But no, you let your emotions get the better of you, and you lost.

You saw Alfred and your buddies running over to you, and you wanted to cry even more. You didn't deserve the hugs or their love because you didn't win. You didn't win. Running off the podium, grabbing your bag, you heard them calling you, but you don't stop. Your feet are moving on their own, gasping for air, and you finally stopped running. You're in the middle of Gotham City's streets, and you finally break down crying. How will you win his love? How will you win his affection if you can't win a stupid archery match? Then hell, the Justice League—and you saw him right there, the great archer himself, down on his luck. He was beaten down and bruised just like you; his bow was nowhere to be seen, and you heard so many swooshing sounds that your ears could bleed. Half the Justice League is in Gotham, including Batman. You ran over to him, not running over to Batman—he can handle himself.

"Mr. Arrow, are you okay?" You heard a groan through the sound of buildings crashing down and people screaming and running away. You shouldn't be here on the ground; he shouldn't be here on ground level. But you couldn’t leave him. What kind of fan would you be if your favorite superhero died right in front of you? You have to find his bow. Shit, where is his bow? You're running around like crazy. Still, you saw the green bow. The earth shakes, making you look up; it was some kind of brick monster and he was gonna crush you. You rolled over, grabbing the bow and finding an arrow. You tried to run over to Green Arrow, but the floor was breaking underneath you, and you couldn't reach him. Falling on your back, you had to stop it somehow. If you didn't, Green Arrow is dead and gone.

You have to win. You have to save him. Putting the bow up to your face, back straight, eyes forward, elbow straight, bow near eye level—through a small hole in the beast's chest. If you could hit it, the fool is done for. But what if you lose? What if you don't win? What if this silver medal around your neck proves that you're a loser? You put your arm down just for a moment, but you heard the groan of Green Arrow. If he can lose, so can you. But if he can win every other day, you felt the toughness of his bowstring; it cut your fingertips, making you bleed. The pain makes you want to cry. You stained the bow with blood—your blood. It's gonna be his life on your hand if you don't shoot. Aim, shoot, aim, win, win, win, your brain screamed at you.

Letting the arrow fly, it hit the core, making the monster crumble. You finally won; thank God! You fell to your knees, looking down—blood coating the green bow red. You felt a hand on your shoulder; it was his. "Nice shot, kid!" That gruff voice—his voice. You're a winner, not a loser like the first time and the time before.

[bibleofficial]

they’re flirting ❤️

i need to feel a man’s beard stubble on my neck rn immediately

[sweetshuga]

It was just like any other day today—mundane. You sat in the front row with your friend, mindlessly swirling your pen around your fingers as you looked at the lecture ahead with zero interest unlike your friend beside you who took notes diligently. You, on the other hand, were too busy checking out the new lecturer to focus on the droning.

Suddenly, as if having heard your thoughts, Matt, the new lecturer, locked eyes with you, fixing his glasses as he took a step forward. Seeing that most of the students were either busy with their own discussions or the presentation at hand, he quietly approached where you sat.

"You’re awfully distracted, sweetheart." He stated, almost cocky in a way that told you he knew you were distracted by him, and the unexpected pet name made you feel that tingle in your lower abdomen—a telltale sign of your arousal.

He leaned a tad bit closer and talked in a more hushed voice, as if telling you a secret. "I’d appreciate it if you’d pay more attention... you pay to attend, after all." He folded his arms, his silver wedding ring glinting in the overhead lights, catching your eyes immediately.

Getting called out wasn’t as embarrassing when he was standing in front of you looking like a whole damn 5 course meal with desserts on the side. You nodded, almost absentmindedly, mumbling a dazed "sorry, prof" before quickly snapping out of it and looking down at your laptop.

You reminded yourself, for the nth time, that he was a middle aged man and probably happily married judging by how much he was flaunting his ring.

Dilf.

You sighed, noticing how absurd your own thoughts were. Suddenly, your friend nudged you, making you tense up. "You just said that out loud." She whispered, biting her lips to stifle a laugh when she saw your absolutely petrified expression. You quickly turned to look at Matt, your face burning and hoping against hope that he didn’t hear that, but to your dismay he seemed awfully amused not to have heard it.

You could’ve sworn you heard him snicker quietly to himself before he turned around and walked back to the board, thankfully not making any comments about your slip up.

𓆩♡𓆪

The day finally ended, leaving you with the embarrassing memory of the lecture earlier today and your remaining desire for the 36 year old lecturer that just started working at the university you go to about three days ago.

You couldn’t help yourself, you’ve always had a thing for older guys and it didn’t help that he was exactly your type to the tea. From his slightly cocky confidence to the small hint of sarcasm he used in everyday speech just made your clit throb for attention.

He had also mentioned on the first day about his daughter who’s still in middle school, playfully asking advice about teenagers.

A dilf indeed.

"Damnit, what’s wrong with me?" You sighed, rubbing your temple as you walked down the almost empty hall until you reached the door to his office. Taking a deep breath, you gently knocked on the door, waiting with batted breath until you heard a soft "come in" from inside. You opened the door and slipped inside with a small stack of papers in your hand.

Matt looked up, his glasses still perched on his nose and his already messy hair slightly more disheveled as his keyboards clicked softly with each of his taps. "What brings you here?" He looked back at his computer, typing in a few things before looking at you again. "Well?"

You snapped out of your tiny trance and walked over to him, putting the papers on his desk. "Uh, Dr. Lexi told me to give these to you." You said as you stepped back, looking at his ring that never failed to catch your eyes.

His eyes followed your gaze and landed on his ring, raising his eyebrows in amusement as he looked back at you. "Thanks-" he paused before continuing, fidgeting slightly with his wedding ring. "-You seem to really... like? my wedding ring huh?" He chuckled, taking it off and setting it aside before leaning forward with his elbows on the desk. "You curious?"

His speech was informal and casual even though he was a lecturer, but that seemed to soothe your nerves a tiny bit.

"Uhm... May I ask what you mean by if I’m curious?" His smirk widened ever so slightly at the confusion in your tone. "Oh, what I mean by that is... Do you wanna know if I’m still married? You seem unable to take your eyes off of it." He mused, tilting his head slightly to the side, the cockiness exuding from his tone didn't go unnoticed by you.

Was he enjoying this?

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it as nothing came out and the only thing you could do was nod. Matt’s smirk turned into a lopsided grin, "There you go, it wasn’t so hard to admit it now was it?" He twirled the silver ring around his fingers.

"Well, to answer your question sweetheart – I’m not married." He leaned back in his chair, a small chuckle escaping him. "This is just to ward off women you know?" He looked at you, his blue eyes looked almost... hypnotizing in the golden hour glow.

Oh, so he knew how attractive he was huh?

You felt like you were in a trance as you looked at him, your eyes slowly raking down his face until it landed on his pink kissable lips, you wondered how they would taste. Your gaze travelled to his beard – the stubble only adding to the whole dilf aura he had going on.

"Earth to Miss Dilf Lover." He chuckled, shamelessly joking, leaning forward to get your attention.

You blinked, only now realising that you’ve been staring at him without saying anything like a creep. "Y-yes Prof. Sturniolo?" You almost, almost, cursed out loud at the stutter in your voice. A genuine chuckle left Matt’s lips and the sound left your panties drenched.

"Why don’t you come here?" He patted his lap, smirking as he waited for you to either decline or tell him he was crazy, but he did not think you would actually comply and sit on his lap facing him, but was he complaining? Nope, not one bit.

A small, surprised chuckle rumbled in his chest, his hands immediately finding your hips as his tongue darted out to lick his lips. His lips curled into a slow grin.

Damn, did he like this.

𓆩♡𓆪

Before you knew it, you were already dry humping his thigh, your cheeks slightly flushed with both embarrassment and desire.

You quickly picked up a quick rhythm, shamelessly satisfying yourself on his thigh, letting out soft moans—which went straight to his dick. A muscle in his jaw twitched when he clenched his jaw, biting back a groan at your sounds and the way you needily rubbed yourself on him.

You couldn’t help the whine that left your lips when he held your hips tightly, halting your movements completely. The desperation in your tone made him chuckle in amusement. "What’s wrong sweetheart? You stopped moving." He asked even though he was the one that stopped you. His tone was full of concern, but you knew better... or did you? After all, you were dry humping on your lecturer’s thigh—whom you’ve known for four days max.

Fuck it.

"Please Prof, let me- let me move." A breathless plea rolled out, followed by your breath hitching slightly when he shifted, his thigh pressing perfectly against your clothed clit. The sensation made you let out a small moan.

"Well, fuck me," Matt breathed out, "You are sooo desperate aren’t you?" He smirked despite the painfully stiff bulge tenting the front of his pants and the way his chest heaved with ragged breaths—barely controlled desire.

Your eyes rolled back briefly when he suddenly ground you hard on his thigh, the friction left your hips jerking slightly. "Oh-- ffuuck." Your mouth went slack when he started to ground you on his thigh, his fingers digging into your hips as he controlled your movements.

Your hands quickly found their way onto his shoulders, a chocked moan leaving your mouth when he pulled you forward just right.

It was a bit embarrassing how quickly you started to feel that taut feeling in your stomach, but you were too into it to really think about how desperate you were.

"Sh-shit-- I’m gonna- gonna cum." You moaned softly, your head falling forward to bury your face in his shoulder, effectively muffling your moans and it turning into small whimpers instead.

Your movements grew jerky as you got closer, your breath hitching more and more. "C’mon, come for me baby." Matt turned his head subtly and whispered in your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

His words combined with the relentless friction against your clothed clit was all that was needed for you to climax. A drawn out moan left your lips when you came, your back arching and your hands clutching his shoulders tighter. Your hips jerked and twitched in sync with the aftershocks running through you.

"Good girl." He praised, his voice raspy from how turned on he was.

𓆩♡𓆪

Matt let you stay seated on his thigh for a few more minutes, letting you catch your breath. He shifted in his seat, his erection was so damn uncomfortable and painful by now, but he didn’t say anything about it.

Boundaries.

As much as he wanted to bend you over the desk and take you right then and there – he knew you would let him and he could tell you wanted him too – but he also knew where to set the boundaries.

Matt cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. "Well, would you look at the time?" He rasped, "I think it’s about time I go, I’ve a meeting in 10 minutes after all." He lied, watching as you lifted your head, nodding slowly before you climbed off his lap.

"R-right, I-uh, I'll take my leave. Uhm, have a good afternoon Prof." You mumbled quickly, the small hint of disappointment didn’t go unnoticed by Matt. You took your phone from his desk, where you had put it, and scurried out of his office, haphazardly fixing your hair and clothes on your way out.

Matt sighed, slumping back in his seat, gazing down at his boner. He ran his hand through his hair, utterly confused as to why he did what he did just now.

This was bad.

"What the fuck is wrong with me? I can’t possibly start falling for my student..." He trailed off, realising he might have already fallen. "Great, Matt, just great." He groaned, rubbing his face with his hands in frustration.

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆.ᐟ | 𝒘𝒄 – 𝟏.𝟕 𝒌 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

⋆˚࿔ 𝒊𝒔𝒂’𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ .ᐟ Sooo I’ve been shit at posting lately but uh... here is something that has been collecting dust in my drafts until I had enough motivation to finish it 🤗 Also, look at the cute bow divider I made it’s adorb 😔

[arbitrarykiwi]

Captured in Low Resolution

Thanos/Choi Su-Bong (Player 230) x fem reader one-shot

Summary: while in your boyfriend’s music studio you finally remember to ask him about that teeny, tiny, low resolution photo that’s taped to the corner of his main computer screen. It’s been there for a while, edged curled up and ink faded to the point where you can’t even see what it is! (4k words)

Warnings: prolly ooc thanos…I just felt this in my soul and had to write it, Sfw, Just wanted to write somethin cute for this silly lil crazed man, proof read but am dyslexic so expect errors LMAO

You didn’t know it but one of Choi Su-bong’s favorite pictures of you was the one he has hung up on the corner of his computer at his studio.

It’s so small, grainy and faded due to the shitty printer he used to print it on. It’s also folded at the edge, rolling up into itself the smallest bit and blocking damn near most of the image.

As you sit on the edge of the computer desk, legs kicking aimlessly as he sits in the desk chair right next to you. He’s leaned back, one of his hands on the mouse as he clicks along the computer screen, eyes trained on the file of music he was working on. His other hand was resting on your thigh, right above the knee, fingers tapping against your flesh in concentration.

You look back over to the small image taped to the corner of his computer, fingers reaching out to try and un-curl the edge to see it better. It’s still such poor quality.

“What even is this picture?” You call out, fingers running over the paper. “Hm?” He says, very obviously not paying attention, his eyes moving from the computer screen over to you.

You pout playfully at him, “Can’t believe you’re ignoring me” you say, crossing your arms. He rolls his eyes and moves the chair he’s in over a couple inches. The wheels drag on the floor until he makes it to his destination, situated between your legs.

His arms reach up, crossing the desk and going behind you so his hands grip at your ass, pulling you to the very edge of his desk, your feet resting against his thighs. He looks up at you, hands massaging up your ass and around to your hips. “I’m payin’ attention now! Ask me again.” He whines turning to place a short kiss on the inside of your knee as an apology before pulling away.

You giggle, looking down and grabbing his face. You hunch over and tilt his face up, placing a slow kiss on his lips. When you pull away, you reach back over to the small image and pull at the corner. “I said what even is this picture. It’s so blurry. I can’t make it out.” You mumble, eyebrows furrowed as you squint to try and see what it was.

He looks to the little picture you’re fumbling with and then back to you, a confused look on his face. “You don’t know what it is!?” He says almost as if he’s offended. He removes one hand from your hip, pulling it back to quickly fish his phone out of pants pocket.

You watch as he unlocks it, blown out pupils darting across his phones home screen until he finds the app he’s looking for- photos.

He’s opening the app and begins to scroll through his camera roll. You can see glimpses of pictures- shoes he bought, pictures of weed, pictures of his shows, pictures of you and him, random memes he’s saved.

And then suddenly he stops, clicking on a certain photo in his camera roll then flipping his phone to you.

You immediately see the high definition colors match the pixels of the poor quality photo. It’s of you, in the drivers seat of his car. With the direction the photos taken, he’s in the passenger seat. The purple floor board lights that are in his car are the only lights that illuminate the photo- you can see it’s night outside the window behind you.

Your hair is in a messy style, you’re wearing a pair of his pajama pants and one of his shirts. Both articles of clothing practically swallowing you. One of your legs is hiked up on the car seat, shin pressed against the steering wheel. You have a takeout box of your favorite food in your lap, one hand holding up the food that your were most likely in the middle of eating, the other picking at the side dish that’s still in the box. You’re laughing in the picture, presumably at something he said.

You look at him, not really thinking this exact picture was worthy to be on the corner of his main computer as a permanent relic over the year. There’s plenty of better ones. But he cuts off your thoughts, “s’my favorite picture of you, baby.” He says with a wide grin pointing at the phone. “You look so cute and it reminds of that night and you always look so fuckin good when you’re driving my car.” He rambles passionately.

“Anytime I’m stressed out because these stupid fucks here don’t listen to me- I look at that picture, remember that night, and suddenly I’m not wanting to kill them.” He says pointing over to the small picture taped to his computer.

He was referring to the many people he had working with him on his music on a daily basis- his manager, his drug addict friends, different collabs he has- they all enrage him frequently, but with that picture of you there as his saving grace, he’s saved himself from losing deals and getting into fights. All he had to do is look at that little picture and he was taken back to that night- the anger he had towards whoever pissed him off in the studio would subside and he’d be able to finish whatever needed to be done in the studio without further problem.

You giggle, hands reaching out to grab his phone from his hand. Wanting a closer look at the picture, still not entirely sure when or even where it was taken. When your eyes scan the image, your smile widens- finally remembering the picture.

————/————/————

You guys had been dating around 6 months at the time, you think. You remember you had begged him to take you out late at night to get your favorite food to go. You were starving and you were set on the one thing that just had to have no delivery option. He had made you drive his car, saying that if he were to go with you and get you the food you wanted- you would have to drive.

You agreed excitedly, slipping on your shoes, grabbing his car keys that hung next to his front door and nearly bolting out of his apartment and skipping all the way to the parking space his car was in.

You didn’t know it but Choi Su-Bong thinks he realized that he was head over heels in love with you that night.

Yes he knew he adored you, loved you- hell he was never one for settling down until he met you a couple years ago- you changed him. But that night he swears he fell for you all over again in ways he didn’t think was possible.

You don’t hear it, you’re halfway to his nice sports car, but he chuckles to himself, just watching you. You’re simply adorable. Your excitement for your favorite food even this late at night made his tired smile grow wider. He was really smitten.

He’s entranced by the way you expertly throw the car into reverse, peeling out of the parking lot of his complex. You’re humming to yourself happily, doing the little dance you always do when you’re about to get food you like.

You’re so excited about the food you don’t even take the extra couple seconds to set up the Bluetooth like you normally do- you always wanted to have music in the care. It’s adorable, he thinks, just how determined you are to get your late night eats.

What’s even more adorable though is the way your eyes light up, a gasp coming out when he takes over aux, putting on that one song you play constantly. The one he swears you can listen to 16 times back to back and love it just as much as you did the first time it came on.

He just can’t stop staring at you, a small smile on his lips as he just watches how you drive, one arm outstretched so your hand is on the wheel the other arm is rested against the window on your side, your thumb playing with the nails of your other fingers- feeling the glitter and gems of the fresh set, tracing the raised chrome “T”- the extravagant set courtesy of your boyfriends money.

He watches as you hum along to the song, as it continues you begin to sing along, your voice blending with the stereo. He can’t but help chuckle to himself when he notices your hand drumming against the steering wheel, your head bobbing along to the music. It was 2am and here you were, as energetic as ever, singing your heart out.

He admires how you seem to recite the lyrics like they’re mixed into the blood that’s in your veins. It’s like you don’t even have to think about what word follows the previous, it just comes to you like you’re the person who wrote the song.

You can feel his gaze on you and your singing is halted by a laugh bubbling up your chest when you can see him out of the corner of your eyes just watching you- your eyes darting over to him in the passenger seat, eyebrows scrunched in a questioning look before looking back at the road. “Why ya staring at me?” You say with a giggle, eyes going back to the road.

“Hm..” he hums in response, reaching over the center console to interlock his hand with yours, your arm that was once on the window moves to replace the other so you can hold his hand, your other hand takes the wheel. “I can’t just admire my girlfriend?” He finishes, giving your hand a squeeze. He even adores the way your eyes roll at his words, letting out a sarcastic “I ‘spose you can.”

He lets out a low hum in response, his thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. He doesn’t stop looking at you for the whole ride, taking in every detail of you.

You expertly maneuver his car along the expressway as you head to your destination with a determination, and throughout the whole drive he just finds more and more things that he finds endearing about you. He was going to have to make you drive him places more often if it meant he got to observe you like this.

You make it to the drive-thru, pulling around the curve and waiting patiently at the large light up menu. He begins to type on his phone, writing out his order so you could easily read it out when you got done ordering what you wanted.

You list off your order and he begins to hand you his phone, open to his order he just wrote out, but you don’t even turn to him- instead you list off his exact order perfectly without even having to grab his phone.

He sits back with a surprised laugh, you really did know him. It was charming how much you knew about him- even the little things like his order at this fast food place that you two have only gone to maybe 3 times.

You had to be a fucking witch, He thought, you had some sort of spell over him that made him fall for you effortlessly at any little thing you did.

You let out a sweet “Thank you!” To the worker as they tell you to pull up, turning to begin to pull up. You turn to him, doing a small excited dance and extending your hand out to him.

He grabs your outstretched hand, taking it in his and turning it to place a kiss on your knuckles as he grabs his wallet out of his pocket. When he pulls back, he rotates your hand back and places his card in your hand.

You give the card to the worker, paying. You get the card and receipt back, the worker closing the window and headed back to the kitchen. When you hand him back his card you lean over the center console and place a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you, my love.” You say in a sweet tone that has him thinking he’s tripping- and he knows he didn’t take any pills today.

My love.

He’s replaying it in his head, trying to get the words and the way you said it permanently etched into his head. He’s not sure he’s ever been able to experience something so wholesome and exciting than when he met you. And every day he was continually surprised that you could still have such an effect on him with the little things you did.

“Of course, my beautiful flower.” He coos, hand reaching across the center console to stroke his thumb across your cheek a couple times. Your attention is pulled away from him by the bags of food being held out to you.

You take them happily handing them over to him for safe keeping as you pull around to the empty parking lot.

As you guys sit in the empty parking lot, eating the food- you told him you wanted to eat it then and there, not wait for the drive home- and who was he to say no to his sweet girl!?!- one of his own songs comes on the play list, his own voice coming through the speakers and filling the car.

“Oooohh!” You say excitedly, “that’s my mannn~!!” You call out in a sing song voice. He laughs, leaning over to place a quick kiss on your neck. When he does he can smell your perfume, it’s a scent he’s become addicted to. He lets out a low hum against your neck as he stays connected to you, sucking a small purple bruise into your skin. You bite your lip and giggle, reaching one hand up to run through his hair.

He pulls back from you, settling back into the passenger seat. He continues to eat, humming along to his own song. He swears his heart beats out of his chest when he’s about to take a bite out of his food and you begin rapping along.

It’s soft mumbles, just to yourself as you nod your head along to his music. You recite the lyrics perfectly. Sure, he knew you were subjected to listen to his music when you sat in his studio as he worked- but to know the lyrics like the back of your hand like this…he’s head over heels.

He watches on for a moment, just letting you be in your own world, not faltering once as you rap along to the recording of his voice. “How’d you learn this?” He questions with a laugh of disbelief, fuck, you’re so precious.

You look over to him, shocked he was even paying attention- you thought he was invested in the food that sits in the take out box on his lip like you were. “I listen to it all the time, duh! It’s on my liked playlist for when I drive.” You say confused, like you were surprised he was surprised.

His head is spinning to say the least. Maybe it was because he used to run around the worst type of people possible, always using him and not actually supporting his music. Or maybe it was because the ditzy flings he had before meeting you never cared to really listen to his music, only wanting drugs or sex. He wasn’t sure but he thought he was dreaming.

Choi Su-bong fell head over heels in love with you that night. He realized you were truly a precious little gift all for him. A pretty thing to show off and to keep him in line. Someone who loved him, and his music enough to learn all the lyrics and add it to your personal playlist. The way you were in the drivers seat of his car, wearing his clothes, singing his song has him launching over the seat to kiss you.

You nearly drop your food- clutching it to your lap as you kiss him back. It’s sweet, slow, and methodical. You can’t help but to melt into it. His lips move against you in practiced movements, his teeth gently bitting at your bottom lip- pulling it just a bit as he pulls away.

He moves back into the passenger seat and begins to go back to eating like nothing happened. You try and mirror him, trying to be stoic as you pick through your take out box.

He hears you giggling to yourself, and when he looks over and sees the sight- you trying your best to focus on your food, smile spread on your lips that were still wet from the kiss- he takes his phone out and takes a picture.

————/————/————

Back in the studio, you look back up to him, a wide smile on your face as you finally remember the night the picture was taken. “Awh!!! You’re such a softie…” you coo out reaching out to pull his face towards you, placing kiss after kiss along his face. When you pull back he scoffing, shaking his head dismissively, trying to act like you don’t affect him the way you do.

But you do.

“Not a softie..” he mumbles as he pouts. You look to the photo again, then back to him raising an accusatory eyebrow. He rolls his eyes at your persistence, “Fine…maybe you have me a bit soft…but you can’t blame me baby! You’re so fuckin perfect…” he says his hands running up the sides of your waist as he focuses on you. You jump off the desk, moving to climb into his lap on his desk chair.

He hums in approval when you sit down on his lap. He studies you, observing you like you’re an ancient marble carving on display in a museum. “My pretty baby.” He mutters, reaching up his hands to run them up the sides of your neck and to hold your face. “Mhm, your pretty baby.” You respond leaning in to kiss him. “All yours.” You mumble against his lips. He nods, biting at your lip. As he keeps the kiss going, he takes the small photo that you still held and tapes it back to the corner of the computer- where it belongs.

————/————/————

When he decides he’s done working in the studio for the day You stay the night at his place. Your mind buzzing with a perfect idea to surprise. You anxiously await to get started with your little project for when he goes to bed- you wouldn’t want to spoil it!

Hours later, he’s asleep on your bare chest, purple hair ticking your neck. One of his arms is thrown across you, pulling you tightly in his grasp. For someone who’s so intimidating and outgoing, when he’s asleep with you-he’s so soft, vulnerable. It’s a drastic change that only happens around you- and it’s one that you cherish every moment of.

Anytime you adjust yourself in bed, his arm around your torso holds you tighter like you’re going to run away. You never do though, you always stay with him. You try your best, and eventually manage to pull your phone off the bedside table, clicking it on to begin your plan.

The bright light of your phone floods the dark bedroom. He murmurs in his sleep, beginning to stir, his painted nails raking lightly at your rib cage when he moves. You quickly dim the brightness of your phone- a tricky task with one hand but you get it done. Your other hand runs along his arm and back in feather-light touches. It seems to settle him back into deeper sleep, his face rubbing against your chest, like he’s trying to get closer to you in any way possible and his hand relaxing once again.

With him back asleep, you continue your plan. You’re ordering the biggest print you can of the photo he loves so much, in the best quality, with the nicest wood frame you can find.

It takes a couple weeks to get everything and put it together. But soon you finish it and strategize on how you’re going to present it to him.

One day you found yourself in his studio. He’s at his desk, the small picture of you still taped to his computer. He’s working on some new music, his face focused as he sits at his desk, his mouth moving as he whispers lyrics to himself, trying to come up with something for this new song.

He eventually turns to you, offering to go out and get you food. And how could you say no? It gave you the perfect opportunity to see your plan into its final stages.

When he leaves the studio to go pick up food for the two of you, you get to work. You hang the picture up right above his monitor. It’s a tough job for one person, the large frame almost too big for you to hang up. But you struggle through- needing to see the end goal- his reaction.

You take a step back, looking on at the new addition with a proud smile.

Oh! Last thing!

You walk back over to his desk, leaning over it and removing the taped picture that was on the corner of his monitor, keeping it tucked into your palm. You smile to yourself, returning back over to your spot on the couch.

When he returns a while later, plastic bags of food for you. His eyes don’t even notice the new addition to his studio, he just looks straight to you on the couch He walks over to you, placing a kiss on your forehead then handing you the food.

“You go ahead and eat, baby. I really gotta finish this up.” He says, his eyes going back to his phone, an annoyed expression on his face. His phone rings out notification after notification, blowing up with messages that are surely rushing him to get the first draft of his lyrics submitted. His words are terse, almost harsh, but you know it’s not directed at you- it’s directed at the individuals hounding him on his phone.

He walks back over to his desk, he throws his phone down on the wood, eyes immediately diverting to his computer, ready to get back to work. Not even looking up to the wall.

He’s annoyed, he just wanted a nice calm day with his girlfriend but all these people bothering him about his music and raps just make him so fucking annoyed. When he feels himself getting more and more aggravated, his eyes immediately look to the corner of his computer monitor, trying to find solace in looking at the little paper picture he had taped to the screen, only to realize the small crumpled picture of you that he had taped there is gone.

He looks over his shoulder back to you, his eyebrows furrowed and a pout on his face. “You take my picture of you down?” He asks, you can hear the upset in his voice, it almost makes you break and spoil the whole surprise you set up.

You nod in response, biting your lip to try and keep your excited smile at bay. You open your palm, showing him that you had the small image. “What?!” He exclaims, turning fully back to you, his back now facing the wall you desperately needed him to look at. “Why would you do that?!” He says, looking at you worried, the frown on his face deepening.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, walking over to him and spinning him around to face the wall. Your finger pointed up at the once empty space above his computer monitor.

When he finally looks at the wall, his mouth drops open. When he looks up he expects to see the same old bare white bricks, but he doesn’t, he’s completely wrong. How could he have completely missed that?!

There’s a large framed copy of his supposed favorite picture of you, right above his main computer monitor. Much better than the small, grainy paper image he had taped to the computer.

You’re about to ask if he likes it when he cuts you off, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around. “You’re literally the fucking best!” He cheers excitedly. He puts you down and you’re smiling like an idiot. “You like it?” You ask, looking up at him, your arms interlocked behind his neck. “Baby…” he says, leaning down and holding your face to place a long, overly exaggerated kiss you your lips, pulling back with a ‘muah!’, “this is the best gift ever.”

His thumbs stroke your cheek gently, he’s staring at you with an adoring gaze that makes you melt. “You needed somethin’ a little better than this small lil thing. It was gonna fade…even more than it has.” You say holding your palm face up in between the two of you. “So I wanted to get you something that wouldn’t fade and have it to where you can actually see what it is.” You say poking at his chest with a joking, scolding tone.

He nods, laughing, placing a kiss on your forehead before removing his hands from your face and grabbing the old image. His thumb runs across the image, a soft smile on his face. He then looks up to the wall where the new picture hangs, taking a couple steps towards the desk.

“Fuck you’re stunning, sweetheart.” He breathes out, studying the framed photo of you, it’s a constant reminder of how lucky he is. “This is just what I needed, thank you..” He says, just studying the picture with a love-struck look. He truly has won the jackpot with you.

[c1qfxugcgy0]

At my last job, we sold lots of hobbyist electronics stuff, including microcontrollers.

This turned out to be a little more complicated than selling, like, light bulbs. Oh how I yearned for the simplicity of a product you could plug in and have work.

Background: A microcontroller is the smallest useful computer. An ATtiny10 has a kilobyte of program memory. If you buy a thousand at a time, they cost 44 cents each.

As you'd imagine, the smallest computer has not great specs. The RAM is 32 bytes. Not gigabytes, not megabytes, not kilobytes. Individual bytes. Microcontrollers have the absolute minimum amount of hardware needed to accomplish their task, and nothing more.

This includes programming the thing. Any given MCU is programmed once, at the start of its life, and then spends the next 30 years blinking an LED on a refrigerator. Since they aren’t meant to be reflashed in the field, and modern PCs no longer expose the fast, bit-bangable ports hobbyists once used, MCUs usually need a third-party programming tool.

But you could just use that tool to install a bootloader, which then listens for a magic number on the serial bus. Then you can reprogram the chip as many times as you want without the expensive programming hardware.

There is an immediate bifurcation here. Only hobbyists will use the bootloader version. With 1024 bytes of program memory, there is, even more than usual, nothing to spare.

Consumer electronics development is a funny gig. It, more than many other businesses, requires you to be good at everything. A startup making the next Furby requires a rare omniexpertise. Your company has to write software, design hardware, create a production plan, craft a marketing scheme, and still do the boring logistics tasks of putting products in boxes and mailing them out. If you want to turn a profit, you do this the absolute minimum number of people. Ideally, one.

Proving out a brand new product requires cutting corners. You make the prototype using off the shelf hobbyist electronics. You make the next ten units with the same stuff, because there's no point in rewriting the entire codebase just for low rate initial production. You use the legacy code for the next thousand units because you're desperately busy putting out a hundred fires and hiring dozens of people to handle the tsunami of new customers. For the next ten thousand customers...

Rather by accident, my former employer found itself fulfilling the needs of the missing middle. We were an official distributor of PICAXE chips for North America. Our target market was schools, but as a sideline, we sold individual PICAXE chips, which were literally PIC chips flashed with a bootloader and a BASIC interpreter at a 200% markup. As a gag, we offered volume discounts on the chips up to a thousand units. Shortly after, we found ourselves filling multi-thousand unit orders.

We had blundered into a market niche too stupid for anyone else to fill. Our customers were tiny companies who sold prototypes hacked together from dev boards. And every time I cashed a ten thousand dollar check from these guys, I was consumed with guilt. We were selling to willing buyers at the current fair market price, but they shouldn't have been buying these products at all! Since they were using bootloaders, they had to hand program each chip individually, all while PIC would sell you programmed chips at the volume we were selling them for just ten cents extra per unit! We shouldn't have been involved at all!

But they were stuck. Translating a program from the soft and cuddly memory-managed education-oriented languages to the hardcore embedded byte counting low level languages was a rather esoteric skill. If everyone in-house is just barely keeping their heads above water responding to customer emails, and there's no budget to spend $50,000 on a consultant to rewrite your program, what do you do? Well, you keep buying hobbyist chips, that's what you do.

And I talked to these guys. All the time! They were real, functional, profitable businesses, who were giving thousands of dollars to us for no real reason. And the worst thing. The worst thing was... they didn't really care? Once every few months they would talk to their chip guy, who would make vague noises about "bootloaders" and "programming services", while they were busy solving actual problems. (How to more accurately detect deer using a trail camera with 44 cents of onboard compute) What I considered the scandal of the century was barely even perceived by my customers.

In the end my employer was killed by the pandemic, and my customers seamlessly switched to buying overpriced chips straight from the source. The end! No moral.

[taleeater]

Heavy Sleeper

I wrote like half of this at 3am 6 months ago and finally decided to finish it 😅

Generation: Bayverse, 2003, 2007 TMNT

TMNT Donatello x Reader

Pronouns: Gender Neutral

Warnings: illness, fainting, fever, IV

Tags: angst, fluff, illness

Summary: You overworked yourself past exhaustion helping Donnie with a new project. Not that you minded. Or noticed, until it was too late.

Word Count: 3229

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

It has been a long night. …..and a long morning. You had been spending the last few days with Donnie occupied in the lab, helping him with some of the smaller, more detailed work on his new security device. While you were busy soldering pathways onto extra small microchips at the workbench, Donnie was typing away creating the programming at his computer. It required a high level of focus. Which, honestly, you usually didn’t have. However, this project had all your attention, and you had been happily hyper focused on designing the little golden pathways on those tiny green wafer boards for almost 3 days straight.

Donnie was extremely grateful for your help. But he was suspicious how his energetic little dove was being so quiet and still while they worked. The thought came to him a few times that he should go check on you again, but he was equally engrossed in his own project and kept getting sucked back into the work.

Your trick was: caffeine. You had discovered in college that if you drank caffeine on an empty stomach, you could stay extra focused for hours on end. Obviously, this wasn’t good for your health. Or your stomach. But usually you would finish whatever project it was you were laser focused on within the day, so the strain on your body wouldn’t last that long.

This was lasting very long. Very very long. And you had no idea of the passage of time. There was no sun peeking through curtains to inform you that you had worked through the night, or disgruntled roommate checking in to wonder why you hadn’t emerged all day. Donnie’s brothers were very well used to his overworking tendencies, so they paid it no mind he was only coming out for coffee and pop tarts. What they didn’t realize was that you were still in the lair, all assuming you had gone home after the first night. So none had thought to go in to check on the lab.

Here lies the dilemma. It had been maybe 64 hours since you had slept or properly consumed anything besides coffee and a singular package of pop tarts, frequently forgetting about the pile of snacks Donnie kept leaving on your desk. Your back was stiff, muscles sore, and your throat was starting to feel incredibly dry. But all your attention being on finishing your project meant all your physical awareness was finely tuned out.

Except that little tickle in the back of your throat.

It started maybe 5…. 6 hours ago. It was a little bothersome, making you clear your throat and drink a little more coffee to soothe it. But it kept coming back. The tickle started to become a little painful, and clearing your throat turned into small dry coughs. You were drinking more and more coffee to try and wash down the feeling or maybe chase away the dehydration. Your lips started to feel dry, then your eyes, joining in with your uncomfortably dry throat. By the time evening rolled around, your chest was burning terribly, and a migraine had started to thrum with your pulse. Having finished your pot of coffee maybe 2 hours ago and hadn’t bothered to go make more, you were thinking you just needed to get more to drink.

You took a small pause in your welding to push up your goggles and wipe at your dry eyes, when suddenly your vision blurred. For a second, you suddenly found your body lurching to the side off your chair before you caught yourself on the side of the desk.

‘Huh… that was weird. Maybe I’m just tired. I’ll go make more coffee.’

Donnie had been bringing you refills whenever he had gotten up to make more, but you had finished your pot twice as fast as usual. You moved to the side of your chair to stand, and your feet touched the ground with your full weight. To your surprise, your knees almost buckled underneath you, and blackness started to creep in the edges of your vision.

Your body felt weak, and your muscles ached. Keeping a death grip on the edge of the table, you took a slow step towards Donnie’s part of the lab, then another. You blinked rapidly to try and chase away the encroaching darkness creeping in your vision, but too soon your eyesight went dark, and it felt like your brain was shutting down. Internally, you were panicking and fighting to stay conscious, but all you could manage was weakly calling out for Donnie before you blacked out. You didn’t even feel yourself hit the ground.

Donnie, on the other side of the lab, had pulled away from his computer moments before to rub a hand down over his face. This line of code was driving him crazy and he couldn’t figure out where he’d gone wrong. He briefly heard the scrape of (y/n) pushing their chair away from the table, and expected to hear your footsteps head past him to the small bathroom in the back of the lab. He took a moment to flag this line of code- again, for further meddling later. The genius turtle had to admit he was reaching his limits on staying awake and figured it was time he took himself and (y/n) to bed.

But where was (y/n)? They hadn’t come in to greet him yet. Were they just adjusting their chair? That was when he heard it.

“d….don nie…” your voice called out weakly, strained, and barely above a whisper before he heard a light thud from the other room. Had you dropped something? He quickly pulled himself to stand and made his way to the other room to check on what it was you needed.

There. On the floor. You laid still and unmoving on your side against the cold floor.

“(Y/N)!!!!” Donnie exclaimed. Startled, he rushed to your side and dropped down beside you, pulling you into his lap. “(Y/n)! (Y/N)!!!!” He shook you slightly trying to rouse your attention, but your eyes were closed and your body fully limp in his arms. Unresponsive. Quickly, he felt for your pulse, sighing when he found it, but worried by the heightened pace. Donnie scooped you up into his arms and quickly carried you towards the med bay across the lair.

He made his way out of his lab and passed the living room where Mikey and Leo were watching a movie on the TV, and Raph was making a sandwich in the kitchen.

“Huh? Donnie? Is that (y/n)? I didn’t see them come in… are they asleep??” Leo asked when he saw Donnie rush out holding you in his arms.

“No time. (Y/n) fainted in the lab.” Donnie rushed out and speed walked through the clear plastic panels into the med bay, ignoring the startled ‘WHAT’ echoed by Leo and Mikey, and what sounded like Raph choking on his sandwich.

He laid you out gently on the padded white exam table, 3 sizes too big for you, and rushed around the drawers and cabinets. He acquired a stethoscope, thermometer, blood pressure pump, and various other tools to properly check your health and brought them over to the table beside you just as his brothers rushed in.

“ANGELCAKES ARE YOU OKAY??? Ow-“ Mikey rushed in pushing past Leo and Raph and dramatically ran to your side before Raph smacked the back of his head.

“Mikey, chill out. Give ‘em some room.” Raph growled out, trying to pull his dramatic little brother back while Leo stepped forward.

“Donnie, what happened to (y/n)?”

Donnie was now wearing the stethoscope and had the end pressed to the rise and fall of your chest as your breathing strained.

“Hmm… heart palpitations… lungs… crackling sound… that can’t be good.” Donnie was muttering notes under his breath, reaching up to place his hand over your forehead. He found a scorching hot fever and his heart sank. Only then did he turn to Leo. “We… we’ve been working in the lab the past few days… pretty intensely….” Donnie winched. “In hindsight, we did not take as many breaks as we should have. It appears (y/n) has collapsed from exhaustion.” Donnie’s eyes went downcast. He looked equally tired, but guilt was weighing heavy on his shoulders.

“They’ve been here all along?? We thought they went home days ago. Aren’t they usually the one making sure you’re eating and taking breaks to sleep?” The shock in Leo’s voice was clear. You were usually so doting with Donnie, cooking his favorite foods and dragging him off to bed with you to make sure he was well taken care of when he got too involved in his work. It appears this time the tables were turned. “They were helping you with a project? Have they been eating enough?” Leo pressed.

That seemed to have caught Donnie’s attention and he suddenly turned back to continue his check on you. “Yes, I’ve been bringing them snacks whenever I’d get up for coffee. They must’ve been weakened from lack of rest and dehydration…. I’m going to check their blood pressure.” Donnie wrapped the cuff around your arm, and started to inflate it when you started to stir.

“Huh… that doesn’t look good.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you took a deep breath. The bright lights making you wince and shut your eyes again. You moved to bring a hand up to your face but was surprised to feel the tug of something around your arm.

“Mmh? Donnie…? What time is it…” You stretched, confused as to why your body ached so much. Why was he looming over you? And his room was never this bright or cold.

“(Y/n)! Thank goodness… Darling, when was the last time you ate?” Donnie held your shaky hand in his and gently stroked his thumb over your knuckles.

“Hm…? The uh…. Pop tarts you gave me…”

Donnie sighed in relief, remembering he had brought you a package of pop tarts to set on your desk just that afternoon.

“Right after we took a nap together.”

Then Donnie blanched.

“Sweetheart… our last nap together was almost 3 days ago. What happened to the snacks I was leaving on your desk…?” He asked, trying to be hopeful. They had disappeared each time he had returned, so he assumed you had eaten them.

“3 days…? Oh…. Um… they were in the way, so I moved them to the bench for later…. I must’ve forgotten about them.”

Leo slapped a hand over his face. He was realizing you and his brother had more in common than he thought.

“Mikey, can you please go make some soup? Raph, please let dad know that (y/n) will be staying over for the next few days.” Mikey did a mock salute and rushed to the kitchen to make some light chicken noodle soup and Raph left to find Master Splinter in his plant room. Leo went to grab some clean blankets and a spare pillow from their storage room.

Your breathing was labored in the now quiet room. You turned your head to the side to rest against the cool pillow as you gazed up at Donnie with your shiny dazed eyes, cheeks flushed and red. “I almost finished the motherboard… just gotta… add the red and yellow wires…” You trailed off as your eyes slid shut. They burned with exhaustion and the light was hurting your head.

Donnie leaned in close and cupped your cheek gently, and pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead. His brow furrowed with worry, but his eyes were soft with adoration. “You did an amazing job. I’ll finish it up later, you just get some rest. Okay?” His thumb stroked your cheek.

“Mh hm… don’t forget the… polyimide adhesive tape…’s under my jacket…” You mumbled as you easily slipped into sleep.

Donnie smiled at you. He loves you. He loves that you taught yourself engineering to help him out with his workload. But right now he was regretting it, seeing the heavy bags under your eyes as you slept soundly. He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed.

When you learned that it was difficult for him and his brothers to do the delicate work of designing circuit boards for their tech, he was surprised you immediately showed interest in learning. He admittedly didn’t take you very seriously at first. But then you started joining him in the lab on long nights to study books you had checked out from the library on basic engineering, he taught you how to assemble his tech and how to solder and weld the machines together into things that would help them on patrol and repair things around the lair. He still remembers the first thing you’d ever made. The poorly soldered little metal band he wore around his right pinky finger.

Leo came back in with the blankets in tow. “Should we move them to your bed?” He asked Donnie.

“Not yet, I need to set them up with an IV to get some fluids in them first. I suspect they’re very dehydrated, on top of the general exhaustion.” Donnie was swaying in place. He looked exhausted, and Leo felt worry for you and his brother. It had been a long time since you last let him overwork himself to this extent. He blamed himself for not checking in on his brother sooner.

”Why don’t you go lie down? I’ll set up (y/n)’s IV and keep an eye on them.”

”But (y/n)….”

”-Would want you to rest.” Leo finished with a knowing smile.

Donnie sighed and looked you over. Leo unfolded the blanket and draped it over you so you wouldn’t get cold. Donnie fussed with bringing the edge right up under your chin and fixed your hair. He didn’t want to leave you in here, but he knew Leo was right. He wouldn’t be much use to you if both of you collapsed from exhaustion, so he relented.

”Wake me up if you need anything.” Donnie stood up on shaky legs.

”Uh huh.” Leo put his hands on Donnie’s shoulders and led him out of the med bay.

”And I mean anything-“

“Of course Donnie, now go to bed.” Leo pushed him out in the direction of their bedrooms. Raph and Mikey in the kitchen watched as Donnie trudged and swayed towards his bedroom, and disappeared into the darkness swinging his door shut.

“Duuude. Do I gotta start hiding the coffee again?” Mikey said from where he was chopping veggies for your soup.

Leo pointed at Mikey, “No more caffeine for those two for a month!”

Raph grunted a laugh.

Leo had set up your IV, just like Donnie had taught him. After an hour and a half, your body had absorbed most of the fluids, so Leo felt satisfied enough to wake you up. He shook your shoulder a bit to wake you up. You were deep asleep. The soup at your bedside that Mikey had brought in had cooled to a safe temperature, so he wanted to make sure you ate something hearty before he sent you back to bed.

”Mmh?” You finally started to stir.

”(Y/n), wake up. You’ve got to eat something.” Leo coaxed.

Your eyes fluttered open and immediately winced at the bright light. Leo stood over you to shield your eyes from the overhead light as you adjusted.

“Where’s Donnie?” You asked a bit dazed, looking around. The tickle in your throat was now a scratchy and irritated pain. You coughed hard into your fist.

”He went to bed. Here, Mikey made you some soup. It should still be warm enough.” Once you had sat up he handed you the bowl.

“Try and eat as much of it as you can, so you can take your medicine.”

You hummed in response, stifling another cough. You balanced the soup in your lap and slowly ate, spooning the warm chicken stock and veggies into your mouth. It soothed your throat, and with a few more bites you felt less shaky. You ate slowly, but you managed to finish almost the entire bowl.

Leo looked pleased and handed you your meds to swallow. Mikey poked his head in through the door to check on you as well.

”How’s angelcakes feeling?��

You paused a long moment as you sipped at a glass of water.

“Better.” You croaked. You still felt absolutely dreadful, but, “the soup helped. Thank you Mikey.”

The orange ninja beamed. Raph also peaked in over his little brother’s shoulder.

Leo looked back to you and took the bowl and spoon from your lap. He checked your IV pack and saw that most of it was gone. Your eyes looked heavy again as your body begged for more rest.

”I think it’s time you got some more sleep.” Leo mothered you. He tried to lift the edge of the blanket to cover you as you lay down but your hand stopped him.

Your red rimmed eyes were distant, and you cleared your throat as you found your words. “….Can I go to Donnie’s room? Please?”

Leo couldn’t help but smile at the innocent request. “Sure thing. Come on-“ You sat back up and Leo removed your IV. He motioned for you to adjust yourself, and Leo wrapped you up like a burrito in the blanket before scooping you up and carried you out of the med bay.

Mikey chuckled and rushed over to open Donnie’s door for you and his brother.

”Special delivery!!” He called into the darkness of Donnie’s room. A groan echoed out as the exhausted purple turtle was woken up. Leo carried you in and Donnie scooted over to make room for you to be deposited on his bed.

”Thanks Leo… hey babe…” Donnie greeted you sleepily, sitting up in bed as he received you and untangled you from the blanket.

Leo quietly walked out of the room to give you two privacy, and shoved Mikey’s face out of the way so he could close the heavy metal door behind him.

You stifled a cough, and reached out for Donnie in the darkness. The purple turtle dipped down into your embrace, and smooched your flushed red cheek. His arms slid up your back, and he pulled you flush against him in a warm embrace. He patted around for the edge of the blanket, before pulling it up and covering the both of you. He sighed deeply as he relaxed again against the pillows with you wrapped up in his arms.

”Thanks for helping me….. but please don’t ever do that again.” He mumbled against the crown of your head.

”Do what?” You asked, already half asleep.

”Collapse.”

You hummed a little laugh and snuggled in impossibly closer.

”I’ll do my best…”

Donnie pressed another quick kiss to your head, and you both quickly slipped back asleep.

The End :]

[puck-luck]

hi qween, could i request mocha with qh43, whipped cream = established relationship, and cold foam 💗💕💞💗💗💞 happy 1 year i love your writing :3

hi!! thank u for requesting!! since you didn't specify what you wanted with the cold foam, i used this kink prompt generator to determine the wild card.... which was sexting!

so, warnings (1.2K): sexting, slight angst (they're fighting, the mocha part is that they're making up here), mentions of ass-eating, no actual sex but lots of allusions to it, puns and double entendres about cooking/sex, quinn is persistent and dorky and stupid and i love him, reader is doing her best to not fall for his goon-ness <3

Things have not been good between you and Quinn lately. It wasn’t by any fault of yours, or of Quinn’s, but you haven’t had sex in weeks. You’ve barely seen each other with Quinn’s schedule and your work. It’s been driving both of you crazy, and you’re both stressed in your own jobs, and it hasn’t been manifesting well. 

Quinn left his sneakers in the middle of the hallway one day and you tripped over them while carrying a fuck ton of groceries inside. That had started a big fight, which hadn’t been resolved, and you’re still upset whenever you see something out of place… like the toothpaste this morning, left on the bathroom counter capless. The cap was next to the tube. How hard is it to screw the cap back on the tube when you’re done brushing your teeth?

You’d lost track of time and been late to picking Quinn up after a roadie one night, which sparked a fight on his end. That also hadn’t been resolved entirely. You know Quinn is still holding it against you because he’s driven himself to the arena every single time since you were late, insisting that he’ll just take himself so he doesn’t have to worry or wait. 

So there’s been tension lingering in the air of the apartment ever since. You’re sure that when you and Quinn have more time, you’ll be able to talk about it. The hockey season is almost over and the presentation you’re working on at work is almost due, so you both will be free in a couple of weeks. The light at the end of the tunnel is growing brighter and drawing nearer.

Quinn is at home tonight, which is nice most of the time. Over the last two years that you’ve been together, it’s rare for you and Quinn to avoid each other. Today, though, you’re staying away from each other. You’re both still upset and holding a grudge.

Quinn sits on the couch flipping through a book. You worked on your computer at the dining room table and now you’re on your lunch break, chopping up stalks of celery to toss into the pot of soup you’re brewing.

As you turn and make your way around the island in the kitchen, you can feel Quinn’s eyes roaming over your skin. You pay him absolutely no mind, keeping your head down and returning to the cutting board to chop up a few carrots.

Your phone buzzes a minute later. 

I’m starving

The text pops up from your lovely, annoying boyfriend and strikes a chord within you. Does he expect you to be cooking for him? The pot of soup is big enough for four people at least, but Quinn didn’t ask you. He just said he’s starving and expects you to do something about it. He’s a big boy; he can make his own meal. You let your screen fade to black without replying.

Another buzz:

But not for food ;)

Unimpressed, you raise your gaze to Quinn on the couch. He’s watching you with a barely-suppressed, smug smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You shoot him a glare, letting him know that you’re not budging, and go back to chopping a carrot into tiny pieces. 

Whereas you were unimpressed, Quinn is undeterred. 

Buzz.

Baby your cooking smells so good, it’s making me crave YOU… wanna add something sexy to that savory?

You squint at the text and return to your carrots, scooping them off of the cutting board and dumping them into the broth.

Buzz.

Cooking looks good on you. Making you moan is even better. Come and let me season you up properly ;)

You pick up your phone and face Quinn, staring him in the face as you shut it down entirely. You place the phone on the counter out of reach and go back to stir the pot. There’s shredded chicken and veggies in this pot, plus some spiral noodles that have been thoroughly cooked in the simmering broth.

He clears his throat behind you and starts to speak. “Hey, babe, I thought I’d give you a call since you hadn’t replied to my texts. Your hands must be full since you didn’t answer, so I hope this voicemail will be fun for you.”

You take a deep breath and press your lips together, closing your eyes. He is such a fucking dork.

“Hm, what am I up to?” Quinn fake-ponders aloud. “Nothing much, just sitting on the couch, rock-hard, and thinking about bending you over the stove.”

Your nostrils flare and you halt your movements. 

“I’m going to need you to turn off the stove and turn me on, though. I’m dying for a sample of your other delicious skills.”

You’re at your wit’s end, about to break your silence. You’re not sure whether you’re going to tell Quinn to shut up or if you’re going to fall for his silly sexting-turned-voicemail, but you’re almost at the point of saying something. 

You can hear Quinn holding back a laugh. “You look so hot stirring that pot, beautiful. Wish it was your ass I was stirring instead. Lemme grab a bite, yeah?”

You scoff, surprised and amused by his pick-up line. “I am not letting you eat my ass, Quintin.”

He chuckles and stands from the couch, his feet padding over the wooden floor of his apartment as he enters the kitchen. “Okay, not your ass. We can still skip the utensils and I’ll put my tongue on something else. I promise I’ll be thorough.” His reflection in the microwave shows you that he’s still talking into the phone. He’s close enough to touch now and he makes a point to splay his fingers over your hip, standing with his crotch pressed against your behind. “Can I serve you something hot and hard, baby?”

His breath washes over your neck, followed shortly by the scratch of his scruff as he kisses the curve of your shoulder. Instinctively, you bare the skin to him. 

Quinn drops the call and places his other hand on your other hip, holding you steady as he rolls his hips against your bottom. He kisses your jaw, then your cheek. “‘m sorry I haven’t been very happy lately. Things are tense. I don’t want them to be.”

“It’s just a difficult time right now,” you reply softly. “I’m stressed and every tiny thing that goes wrong gets on my nerves and makes it worse.”

Quinn takes the spoon from your hand and turns off the stove, moving the pot to the backburner and off the heat. “You get an hour for lunch?”

“About forty-five left.”

“I only need fifteen.”

You laugh. “It’s been long enough that I think you could do it in less.”

“Ouch, you’re making fun of my stamina?” Quinn pouts. “I’ll show you, baby. I’m a machine.”

You release a breath of a laugh, relaxing into Quinn’s touch. “Is sexting your new way of initiating?”

“Only when you’re mad at me. It’s cheesy enough that it’ll diffuse the tension, right? Did you like my lines?” Quinn asks, seeking your approval. One of his hands is unbuttoning your blouse, the one you threw on to look professional in your video meeting this morning.

“I liked that you were trying,” you confirm. “But you’re still not going to eat my ass.”

Quinn steers you toward the bedroom. “I’m perfectly content eating your pussy, baby. You’re my main course.” He scoops you up bridal-style and carries you across the apartment. Once you enter the bedroom, he tosses you onto the bed and grins at you. “Alright, spread ‘em. Gotta lick my plate clean.”

[ultravi0lence14]

CHANGE OF HEART

dean winchester x angel!reader

2.2k | angst, hurt/comfort, szn 9

summary: dean is still a complete ass, but a late night conversation has you realizing the cruel facade the older winchester puts on may just be there to cover his sweet and tender soul.

WHEN ANGEL FALLS IN LOVE

humanity truly was a fickle concept, and you started to understand that as time went on. after you and dean came back from your shopping trip, you were assumedly happier. your room was eccentric, exactly how you wanted it. there had been a white vintage dresser in your room when you woke up a day later, dean telling you that if you wanted a place for that mountain of clothes, than you’d need a place to put it.

your walls were less drab, now having pops of colour and exuberant paintings that lifted your spirits. the furniture was ugly, and the wall colour still looked like mud, but the extra pop of colour did help exponentially.

though something still felt off. you were learning more about humanity, and sam was as he usually is. but things with dean seemed to have shifted from weird to weirder.

he went from being snippy when you talked to him — closed off walls that had slight cracks in them, to completely boarding you off. he blatantly ignored you, the last full conversation you two had being when he bought you the dresser.

you’d come into the room he was in, it didn’t matter what he was doing, or how important, he’d just up and leave. you tried to talk to him as you did on your car ride, he’d give you vague, one word responses or just shake his head for yes or no.

it was disheartening, and really confusing. what had you done in this short period of time that made him change up so fast?

the night was young, a fresh 1am gracing your eyes as you looked at your alarm clock. you were watching a movie, and as time dwindled past, your stomach rumbled in remembrance that you hadn’t eaten in a while.

with a huff, you shut your computer softly and made your way to the kitchen. the bunker’s air was cold on your exposed skin. a small, tight fitted t shirt with a picture of a cat and stripped underwear were all you wore. you didn’t expect anyone to be awake, for sam was usually asleep by ten and dean was avoiding you like the plague. a quick trip wouldn’t hurt, and you’d be in and out in seconds

god, how you wished you weren’t so blindingly oblivious sometimes

instead of worrying about what sam or dean would be doing, you would’ve heard no music from dean’s room, which usually cut out by at least 2 in the morning. it didn’t make it better you had headphones on, and if you weren’t so in your head you would’ve noticed dean sitting at the kitchen table.

your head was down, twirling your hair between your fingers as you maneuvered through the kitchen. not realizing the forrest green eyes stuck on your frame.

dean felt his mouth dry up, hands tightly clasping the fork he held that had recently delved into the crevices of an apple pie. you were going to be the fucking death of him. in that tight little shirt, in those tiny ass panties. this is the reason why he started ignoring you. you were so enchanting, a beacon of light that pulsed dean’s name. he wanted you so bad his heart hurt, yet he knew he couldn’t have you.

he was a bad man, not deserving of the divinity that rolled off of you like waves. that road trip was a turning point, and he realized that his hatred was to hide what he honestly felt.

you were sweet, and too kind for dean’s coal black heart. he could see it from the start, you grace and beauty still evident even after you fell. you were everything that dean longed for, but would never allow himself to have.

that’s why he made you think he hated you, why he ignored you. but now, with the fridge light bathing your figure and lighting you up like a wishing star, dean wanted to be selfish, he wanted to push his worries away for once and indulge in the sweetest fruits.

with a clatter of his fork, dean stood up from the table and walked over to you slowly. you still couldn’t hear him, your headphones blocking out any noise beyond your music, but that’s what dean needed. he needed that moment of clarity before he fully went under.

coming up behind you, his breath tickled down your neck, making your shoulders tense as you slowly paused your music. taking your headphones off and putting them on the counter, you turned around slowly and slightly jumped as dean stared down at you through his hooded eyes.

“jeez dean,” you breathed, hand resting against your chest as you caught your breath. “don’t sneak up on a girl like that, you almost gave me a heart attack.”

he didn’t say a word, just staring down at you as his fists clenched by his sides. you didn’t know what to think, this was the first time dean had even looked at you in days, and his back and forth attitude was starting to confuse you.

sighing, you crossed your arms against your chest, looking up at dean with a stoic expression on your face. you were still an angel after all, and no one taught you about how somethings should be left unsaid.

“what is wrong with you?” the question rolled off of your tongue like poison ivy straight to dean’s heart, making him jerk back a little and widen his eyes. his mouth opened, like he wanted to say something; question you, ask what you meant, you didn’t care. you just put your hand up to halt his words.

“don’t even start,” you bit out, anger you didn’t even know you held slipping through your lips. “you think you can just ignore me for days and then come up to me and stare like a petulant child? i might be an angel who’s new to the world, but i’m not fucking stupid dean.”

your words had him reeling. you never swore — or he’s never heard you. the words coming from your lips were so firm, so assured, that dean couldn’t help a swell of pride flourish in his chest. you were growing stronger, and he couldn’t be more proud of his girl.

well, you would be his girl if he grew a pair of balls.

dean didn’t realize that he’d just been staring at you, lost in his own mind that he didn’t even respond. he finally snapped out of his stupor when you scoffed, turning around and grabbing your headphones before moving to leave the kitchen. “unbelievable. i’m done trying to crack you dean. if you don’t want to even try and care, i’ll just leave you alone for good-“

your words were cut short as dean gripped onto your upper arm, spinning you around and into his chest. his movements shocked you to the point of dropping your headphones, the only noise being the device clattering on the ground and your wracked breathing.

he was so close, so close you could see all the imperfections on his face. his scattered freckles that looked like fairy dust, the stubble that grazed his jaw and how it added to his handsome charm; everything was so overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but grip onto his shoulders as you stared up at him through your lashes.

dean didn’t know why he did it, but he knew it was what needed to be done. he was sick of hiding, and having you this close made him realize how bad he craved you.

the puffs of air from your pretty lips hitting his face, the scent of vanilla and cherries hitting his senses. your hands gripping his shoulders had his palms itching to touch you, shaking as they reached out and gripped your hips.

his batted breath mixed with yours, one hand leaving your waist to delicately dance across your cheek. “please don’t leave,” his voice was filled with vulnerability, slight edges of urgency twisted into it’s roots. “just - give me one second to explain. please, sweet angel.”

sweet angel. the nickname made you gulp, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you just stared up at him expectantly. you waited for him to speak, watching as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. your hands on his shoulders squeezed lightly, a small sign of comfort that dean easily caught onto.

when dean re-opened his eyes, you swore you could see his walls crumbling down as he looked at you. his blockades to the real man — which made up his soul, peaking through for the first time. “i’m not good at these kind of things. i’m a killer, a ruthless, self indulgent man who doesn’t deserve your love.”

the words coming from his mouth hit you in the gut, wrenching a deep hole into your middle. dean truly felt that about himself, and it hurt your soul that he couldn’t see how much of a good person he was.

yeah, he was a dick, you could say that much, but he also cared. you saw how he loved and protected sam, how he would put his life on the line for his little brother. you watched him protect people from the creatures of the night, soft words leaving his lips as he consoled frightened victims. whatever dean had tried to show you in the past couple of weeks wasn’t truly him, and you were now determined to show him that.

your one hand lifted to his cheek, watching as his hand on your face fell down and rested on your neck above your pulse point, almost like he was trying to tell himself you were actually real. “you are none of those things dean winchester,” your words were soft, a reassurance that only left dean shaking his head.

“no, don’t do that. please listen to me.” you gripped his face in your hands now, pulling it down so it rested on your forehead. “you are a good man. you kill to rid the world of evil, and that’s the best thing you possibly could do.”

he just looked down at you, a sorrowful look on his face as his eyes showed the way he didn’t believe your words. “i can’t give you what you need, angel.” his words left you shocked, a testament to dean’s confession as he held onto you tighter. “i’m not capable of love, and you deserve a whole fucking ocean of it. you are the true definition of beauty, and you need someone who can give you that and more.”

tears leaked from your eyes, leaning further into dean as he gave silly reasons on why he didn’t deserve you. “dean-“ you breathed, voice shaky as a lump lodged in your throat. all he did was shake his head against yours, bringing his hand up to brush your tears away.

“no tears, please my darling girl. i don’t deserve them.” he tried to pull away, but you held him tighter, not allowing him to let go. “no!” you sobbed, eyes leaking proof of your sorrow. “this isn’t fair! you can’t do this. i didn’t even know how you felt twenty minutes ago. hell, i didn’t even know how i felt twenty minutes ago. i thought you hated me for gods sake. please just give me time to think dean, i deserve that much.”

dean all but whimpers, a sigh that sounds too heartbroken for your now fragile ears. “baby, please. just let me save you, i don’t want to burden you with my issues. you deserve security, a fairytale love you only read in books. i can’t give you that.”

“cut the shit winchester.” you snap, shocking the man in front of you. “this is my life too, remember? what i need isn’t for you to decide. so please, give me a day. and i promise, i’ll decide if i want you to ruin me or not.”

all dean did was shake his head, hugging you to him like he could meld your bodies together. “you don’t want that, pretty girl.”

“if it came from you, i’d allow you to ruin me in anyway possible, so the only aspect of love i see is your heart beating for me.” the words were a little toxic, even you as an angel could see that, but dean was so in his head, you needed to show him that he was capable of love. he was made to love someone, to cherish them and show them how beautiful his soul was. you just hoped he’d let that person be you.

leaving a lingering kiss on his forehead, you separated from the sorrowed man, watching as he reached out for you like you were drifting away in the ether.

picking up your headphones, you moved to walk out of the kitchen. briefly turning around, you stared and watched as dean looked at you longingly, waiting for you to say something. anything. “my room. tomorrow. 12am. i’ll be there with my verdict. but trust me dean winchester, you are capable of a love worth writing about.”

the words lingered as you left, tears slowly falling down your cheeks as you thought of the man who was broken in more ways than you could count. a boy who was deprived of love and believed he didn’t deserve. but you swore, you’d show him. you’d let dean winchester realize how much of a lover he was.

TAGS: @floralscented @deansbeer @titsout4jackles @honeyryewhiskey @haunteres @starzify @fallbhind @foolinthera1n @rubyvhs @jasvtsc @vaiieydoii @taurus0queenie33 @bitchykittenconnoisseur @angel-inspiredblog @galacticalllcafffeine @pascal-rascal424 @annoyingstrawberryballoon @fayeisuppose @geisterfvhrer @bluemerakis @si1ver06 @drqstqr @wh0s-ra3 @supernatural-bangtanboys @whump-loverz @mostlymarvelgirl @d3anwinchesterswife @youdontknowe @oceanolokys

*the shirt she’s wearing is in the pinterest board. . . go check it out🤭

[words-4u]

like seeks like - t.s

pairing: trinity santos x f!reader (last name: thorne)

wc: 1.7k

a/n: i feel like this goes without saying but this medically inaccurate just a work of fiction idk anything about anything except from what i see on tv okay thanks :)

being a legacy isn’t easy. the constant comparisons, the fear of people using you because of your name, the weight on your shoulders to live up to a certain expectation. it was all too much but there’s no escaping it. you are a thorne, and for better or worse, that name meant something at PTMC.

you unwrapped a protein bar as you stood in front of the patients board reading through the list of patients that still needed to be seen.

“anything good?” you asked dana, the charge nurse of the pitt, mother figure to all.

“don’t make me tell robby you’re cherry picking,” she said as she made her way to perlah and princess.

“not cherry picking if i haven’t picked yet!” you called out after her.

“great! so there’s still time for me to steal a good one,” santos saddled up right next to you. she leaned on the counter, the scent of her immediately infiltrating your space. 

you shook your head at her, “no chance, santos.”

throwing your half eaten protein bar into the trash you practically ran to the most interesting case. santos hot on your heels. 

you opened the curtain with haste. “hi there, i’m dr. thorne…” you said at the same time santos introduced herself.

"i'm dr. santos. how can we—?” 

you stood side by side and stared at the man on the hospital bed. his entire body, his face down to his legs and feet, was covered in splinters. not the tiny ones you're used to, these were finger sized splinters penetrating his body.

“sir, how did this happen?” you managed to ask through your shock. 

the patient begin recounting how he ending up in the ER. he was walking to work, his usual shortcut through the woods, and a tree exploded. it's so cold outside that the sap in the tree froze and it shattered.  “i mean all i remember was hearing this loud sound, almost like a gunshot and then pain. all i felt was pain.”

“and how do you feel now?” santos asked, eyes still wide.

“the morphine is helping a little,” the patient admitted. 

“okay, hang tight, sir. we’ll be right back,” you said as pulled the curtain to give him privacy while you and santos found an attending.

it was then that your sister elise and garcia, PTMC’s surgical goddesses and best friends, walked past. 

“hey, odds. need one of you to glove up. we have a trauma incoming. it’s a doozy.” garcia said.

“which one of you will it be?” elise asked.

“me!” santos immediately volunteered.

“oh, come on.” you complain, while you were okay with the current case you just picked, for your sister and garcia to both be in the er, you know this trauma was gonna be a good one to be apart of. “elise…” you turned to your sister.

“hey, she said it faster.” elise held her hands up while santos smirked victoriously.

“is this like punishment or something? cause i chose emergency medicine over surgery.” you asked annoyed. your sister clearly picking favourites.

“no, that’s a personal choice.”

“yeah, tell that to mom.” you rolled your eyes. your mom also worked at PTMC but not just any regular job, she was chief of surgery.

"incoming!” dana yelled from across the ER.

santos looked back you and touched your arm condescendingly. “have fun with tree guy,” she walked away with a pep in her step but the skin where she held your arm ran hot.

“fuck my life,” you said walking away to find and consult with dr. robby.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

“okay, sir. last one,” you said as you pluck out the final spinner from his shin. javadi and whitaker also helped to speed up the process. you stood up and took off your protective glasses and gloves.

“i’m gonna call someone to wrap your open wounds but the good news is that the punctures aren’t that deep,” you said with a soft smile. you walked away heading to the computer to finish your charting. 

“extra hands!” garcia yelled poking her head out of one of the rooms.

dana looked over at you and tilted her head giving you the go ahead.

“coming!” you ran over grabbing a new pair of gloves and enter the trauma room.

you took a deep breath sneering the room. the floor was bloody, the little girl’s leg appeared crushed. 

“where do you need me?” you asked as princess tied your protective gown. 

“where santos is.” elise said as she and garcia try to relive pressure from the little girls other leg.

the monitor started to beep. “we’re starting to lose her!” you yelled.

“her chest. it feels stiff.” santos said, and both your hands are on it, feel her chest. 

“we need to do a thoracatmy,” you looked up at garcia and elise. "she needs it now.”

“so do it,” garcia said with full confidence. you didn’t even see santos grabbing the instruments. 

“what are you doing?” you asked, looking at her prepping the girl’s chest. 

“what does it look like, nepo baby?” she said rubbing the girls lower chest with rubbing alcohol. she takes a scalpel and makes a large incision between her ribs.

“move over," she said through gritted teeth.

“there’s barely any room,” you responded frustrated and moved even closer to make a point.

“then stop breathing on my neck.”

you shook your head at her immaturity while she completed the procedure that should’ve been yours. princess handed her a retractor to get a better look at her heart. the surrounding area was filled with fluid. santos made quick of getting it drained until you tripped on one of the machines cords and bumped into santos. she accidentally nicked the little girl’s heart and then there was blood. so much blood.

“garcia, thorne!” santos yelled out.

“what did you do?!” you freaked out from the sideline. 

“nothing! i tried to drain…” santos began to explain before garcia stepped in. “alright, let’s see.”

“everything was fine until you bumped into me.” santos whisper-yelled.

“that wasn’t on purpose. i was trying to see what you were doing. you know? the procedure that should’ve been mine!”

“yeah, you would think that, wouldn’t you?” she retorted.

your sister snapped her head at the two of you bickering in the corner. “okay! i’ve had it with you two! shut the fuck up!”

santos followed orders but not before letting out a sharp exhale. you stayed quiet watching garcia and your sister try to stabilize the girl on the table. they ordered more blood, they packed gauze, but it was too much and too late. they had to call it.

“time of death: 14:23.” garcia said taking off her bloody gloves. she walked off but not before looking at you and santos with disappointment in her eyes. 

“happy?” your sister rhetorically asked following garcia out of the room.

“i think i’m gonna be sick.” you said ripping off your gloves and white protective gown. you were too focused on running into the change room’s toilet that you didn’t hear santos running after you.

after spilling the contents of your stomach into the toilet bowl, you wash your mouth and splash water on your face. the guilt washed over you like a wave. had you and santos just worked together that girl would still be alive. but it’s not your fault you couldn’t stand her. 

trinity santos was so competitive and always knew the answers anytime any of the attendings had a question and sarcastic. god, she had sarcasm by the boat load but despite all of that there was this unexplainable pull towards her. maybe it's because like seeks like.

you opened the door, surprised to see santos sitting on the bench. she looked up as you walked out. her face matching what you felt.

“we should talk,” she said softly rubbing her thighs, trying to get rid of the moisture on her clammy hands.

“there’s nothing to talk about.” you replied.

“are you sure? because we just… that little girl’s not going home because of us. w-we could’ve done something productive instead we…”

“we fought like we always do,” you took a seat next to her on the bench. she shifted her body to face you a little.

“why do you hate me so much? like what did i do to you?”

“trinity, i don’t hate you. you hate me.” you explained to her like you were explaining simple maths to a 4-year-old. “you’ve always acted this way with me and i never questioned it because… two can play that game.”

santos chuckles dryly. “yeah, well i'm tired of playing games.”

you remained quiet and let silence fill the air and this time you turned to her and spoke slowly. “maybe… there's a universe out there where we're friends.”

with santos' elbows planted in her thighs, she faced the floor but shook her head. “friends? no, i would never want to be just friends with you.”

“you… god, why do i even bother," you muttered to yourself getting up and heading for the door.

“can you let me finish, woman?”

you stopped in your tracks and turned around, arms crossed but your face softened when you see santos make her way towards you with an expression you can’t read.

“i don’t want to be just friends with you, y/n," she repeated herself slowly this time hoping you pick up on the subtext without her having to admit that she liked you. and you do this time. 

her eyes flicked down to you lips and back to your eyes. “would you want that?” her voice soft like if she spoke she’d wake herself up from this dream.

not feeling the need to respond with words, you grabbed her black scrubs and pulled her into you. your lips crashed into hers. it takes a moment for santos to register what’s happening before she takes a hold of your hips and opens her mouth to you. her lips were warm and soft. you slipped your tongue inside, making her let out a moan.

she pulls back after a moment. “i knew you liked me, thorne” you laughed into her shoulder. 

“yeah whatever, santos, you were the one just aching to kiss me,” you leaned in, teasing her.

“what if i was?” she smirked. her hands now snaking under your scrub top. you were a moment away from completely folding before you stepped back. the shock in her face apparent.

“i’d say take me on proper date before you get any other funny idea.” you walked backwards straightening your top. 

she shook her head at you as you walked out of the change room. “god you’re such a lady boner killer.” she called out after you.

santos stayed back for a moment, fingers on her lips. she couldn't believe what just happened. maybe like does seek like after all.

requests are open <3

[lanormie]

sims 4 isekai! where you wake up to find yourself in the game in one of those basic ass base game houses.

you haven't even got the chance to explore your surrounding when all of a sudden-

ding dong!

it's the welcome wagon.

you open the front door and almost pass the fuck out when you see gojo satoru, geto suguru and nanami kento standing in front of you, looking utterly confused.

"hey! so," gojo speaks first, "silly question! uh, where are we?"

you're just about to open your mouth to reply when geto jolts, an interaction menu spawning around him. based on the look on everyone's face, seems like they can all see the UI.

the floating cursor clicks on Invite In, and some mysterious force ushers you four into your barren living room.

nanami looks at the plate of fruitcake apprehensively before setting it down on your coffee table, then immediately makes a beeline for your computer. "please pardon my rudeness," he stammers while booting up your PC, "i promise this is not my doing."

you assure him that it is fine before turning around to find gojo rummaging through your fridge. "this is amazing!" he exclaims, "every time i think of a dish the ingredients just appear in front of me!"

while watching a plethora of mixing bowls and cutting boards pile up on the counters, you see geto jolt again. the cursor starts queuing up interactions, and you can clearly see that the player very obviously wants you to flirt with him.

"i'm sorry in advance," you squeeze in an apology while you both make your way to the ratty uncomfy couch. "i have a feeling i'm about to say something completely unhinged."

"it's alright, i understand." geto gives you a kind smile, and you feel your heart do some Olympics level somersaults.

you totally get the player now.

the queue kicks in as soon as your ass touches the couch, and you blurt out, "hoo boy if this isn't the finest piece of ass i've ever seen-"

your eyes widen in mortification before you even finish getting the sentence out. slapping your hand over your mouth, you look across the couch, preparing yourself for whatever wrath your unintentional brashness has brought forth.

to your surprise, geto just peers amusedly at you with a corner of his lips quirked up, looking about half a step away from a bursting into a cackle.

over his head, a tiny love heart with a plus sign pops up for a moment before disappearing into thin air.

you end up talking to geto on the couch (nanami would turn around in his seat to join in the chat once in a while) for what seems like hours before catching the sight of gojo waving wildly from behind the counter.

"guys," gojo pouts, pointing at a single cutting board sitting on the ground, "i can't move."

(here's part 2!)

[hughesyodaddy43]

Pizza solves everything ⎸ L.H

pairings: bf! Luke x fem!reader. Platonic!Ethan Edwards and Mark Estapa x reader Genre: fluff warnings: angst?,mentions of cheating, stressed reader, exam season synopsis: Lukes girlfriend gets worked up over finals. Ethan and Mark attempt to make her feel better. requested?: yes word count: 3.1k authors note: I am not from America so i don't know how exams and schooling work over there, i hope this still makes sense. i gave reader a nickname, 'missy' and will probably use that name for future Luke fics.

You groan as you type on your computer, sitting at your desk with mindless tv playing in the background. You currently live in a tiny apartment with your best friend, Ethan. It's a two bedroom and can only really house two people before feeling cramped. However it is right next to Umich and is far more convenient than living in the dorms. 

You only started living with Ethan last year, after your previous roommate moved out and you needed someone to share utilities with. Seeming as though Luke was leaving for New Jersey and Ethan never left your house anyway - it seemed only logical that he started paying rent.

Having a boyfriend in the NHL is both a blessing and a curse, the blessing being the fact that your hot boyfriend is in the NHL and the curse being that everyone else thinks he is hot too. 

You never were the jealous type, or at least not before you saw all the girls that crowded Luke when he went to parties. Something in you cringed when you saw how awkward he got when denying girls, it was common that you'd have to step in otherwise that man would have just stood there like a statue the entire encounter. It wasn't like he would ever cheat on you, you were confident that he wouldn't. However when your hair is fitted to a much darker shade then the girls he interacts with, it's hard to not think about him wanting a more ‘conventional’ Hockey Girlfriend. 

Luke is always first to tell you he doesn't care about that stuff and you believe him, but when you haven't called him in days, sometimes weeks, it gets less easy to control the unsettling feelings.

Everytime you call with Luke, it's always cut short, whether it’s Ethan banging on your door at 11 o’clock  for a ‘late night snack’ or Jack barging in to argue with Luke about something, you never get to talk about what you're really feeling. 

Because of the distance and lack of communication, the relationship has been a bit strained, it's not like you could tell if luke felt the same since he's too busy sleeping or playing hockey to communicate that with you. You were so proud of Luke, no doubt about it, however something in you boiled when he only ever mentioned hockey during the ten minute phone calls.

Since the last phone call you had with him, you've only really exchanged small text messages every couple hours. It was upsetting that you couldn't talk to your boyfriend about everything going on but it was also a nice way to get away so you can finish up and focus on all the upcoming exams.

You had your next one tomorrow and really needed to knuckle down and get studying for it. You've managed to get what you needed done for tonight so you thought you'd call Luke for a final call before bed.

After wriggling comfortably against your pillows, you lean against your head board. bringing your phone up close to your ear, you press the dial on luke's contact  listening closely to the ringing sound on the other end.

Ring 

Ring 

Ring 

Your breath hitches as you hear Lukes voice on the other end, only this time it was his voicemail. You take one last deep breath before shutting your phone off and sinking into your pillows. 

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand and you view a message from your best friend and biggest hater, Ethan.

House rat: the team got too much pizza, if you're still up I can bring you some?

House rat : Silence speaks volumes missy 

Pissy missy : no. i'm just asleep

Pissy missy : You're disturbing my slumber 

House rat: oh well pizza is good for your soul. Mark is coming too ;)

Pissy missy: Fuck.

You sigh and put your phone back down, wiping your eyes, you sit up against the headboard once again and pull your computer onto your lap, Resuming your place in your essay.

“MISSY  COME HERE GIRL” Ethan calls out from the front door, walking towards your room in long strides. He bursts through the door with a box of pizza in his hand and makes his way to sit at the end of your bed, Mark slowly entering behind him. Mark moves to sit further on the bed, next to Ethan, pulling out a piece of pizza from the box.

“How are you?” Mark asks as he stuffs his face with the crust.

You sigh, reaching to rip a piece of pizza from the rest, bringing it up close to your lips

“Been okay, I guess” you take a bite, avoiding eye contact with the two boys in front of you “are you sure? You've seemed a bit distant'' Mark asks “im fine.” you say, taking another big bite of the saucy crust “are you sur-” “I'm fine so quit asking” you yell, adding an edge of venom to your words. Taking the boys by surprise “wow, someones a bit extra pissy tonight” Ethan adds. 

That's when something in your throat tightens, you feel yourself bubbling over. You don't understand why, your whole nickname stems from the fact that you get pissy from time to time but it feels like that was the last straw.

Tears begin filling your eyes, vision goes blurry as you feel your cheeks burn up. Sniffles are heard as the boys go silent before you. Tears drip onto the final bite of your pizza.

“Im-sorry-i-just-so-stressed-and-upset-and-luke-hasnt-been-talking-to-me-and-i-miss-him-and-i-think-hes-gonna-breakup-with-me-and-im-just-so-sad-and-i-dont-mean-to-be-mean-but-im-just-so-angry” you hurry through muffled sobs as your eyes go red and your sinuses block up.

“Woah hey hey, Missy i didn't mean to make you upset.” Ethan says , leaning forward to meet your eyes

“Yeah, talk to us..but a bit slower please” Mark says softly, careful to not make you cry again.

You take a deep breath, lifting your head up to see the two young hockey boys worried faces, your lip quivers slightly as you breathe in and out, ready to spill out what has been hurting you.

“I don't know, I'm just so stressed with these exams and I think I'm gonna do fine but I'm just scared.” you start, trying to get one problem out at a time 

“I know for a fact that you'll do fine in your exams and assignments” Ethan comforts “yeah! you're like the smartest person i know!” Mark chimes

“Thanks.. It's not just that tho” you say, sniffling a bit as tears continue down your face and onto your swollen lips, the taste of salt sinks into your mouth. The Hockey players stay silent, waiting patiently for you to continue. 

“Luke and I haven't really been talking and I think he wants to break up.”

 The boys share a knowing glance but say nothing. 

“And you know i've seen all the girls jack brings home, the pretty blonde girls i mean what if luke met one of them and they fell in love” you say, growing more and more hysterical as each thought processes through your head.

Logically you new Luke would never cheat but with your emotions running high you couldnt help but think that  Luke had fucked the entire female poplutation of new jersey ranging from 18-25 by now.

“And all he every talks about when we do call is stupid fucking hockey” you rise your voice slightly before looking at the boys 

“no offence” you add, placing your hands in your lap and finishing your pizza

 “ he didn't even answer my call tonight” you finish, the last sentence being muffled as you swallow your food. 

To your surprise the boys stay silent and stare at each other with Ethan looking down at his phone then back up at mark then sharing a look back to you.

“OMG SO HE IS GONNA BREAK UP WITH ME” you scream, tears streaming down your face harder 

“WHAT NO NO NO” the boys choir, eyes wide.

“Then why are you looking at eachother like that? And who the fuck are you messaging at 12o’clock at night???” you yell pointing towards ethan. 

“No-no one” ethan adds, throwing his phone away to the end of the bed.

Mark moves to sit next to you, throwing an awkward arm around you in a comforting embrace 

“missy, he's probably not gonna break up with you'' Mark adds 

“PROBABLY??” you cry 

“NONO he means he is NOT going to break up with you” Ethan interjects, throwing a pointed look at Mark “oh yeah sorry that's what i meant” Mark stuttered

You groan loudly as your head flys back onto your pillows, you bury yourself into your blanket

“Okayyy so you're tired so we're gonna get outta here” Ethan says, dragging the pizza off your bed with Mark sliding off behind him.

“Good night, Missy'' Mark says, patting your head, peeking out slightly 

“Good night!!” Ethan yells from the kitchen with a mouthful of pizza.

X

X

You wake up to the blaring sound of your alarm, you look at your phone that reads ‘7 am’ and still you have no response from Luke. You sigh and remove yourself from your bed, making your way towards the shared bathroom you have with Ethan. 

You walk down the hall and pass Mark who is sleeping soundly on the couch, you continue walking and stop by  Ethan's room, you peer in to see him sprawled out on his bed, keeping note that you should keep quiet as you get ready so you don't wake the two up prematurely.

You take time in your shower to clear your mind, enjoying the warm hug as the water runs down your back and soothes your sore neck. You recite in your head that everything will be okay and to just focus on your exam first, then worry about whatever bullshit Luke is pulling.you finish your shower and get dressed in warm attire. You pair your favourite long sleeve shirt with your fav baggy sweats and continue on with your hair and makeup. Finishing up, you leave the bathroom and are met with the inviting smell of fresh breakfast.

Walking down the hallway you are met with Mark and Ethan who have both woken up and are now stuffing their faces with every breakfast food you own.

“Good morning” you say, giggling slightly 

“Morning” Mark says, eyes still drawn to the tv 

“Heyy, do you want a bagel?” Ethan asks, walking over towards you “you're gonna need some brain food” he adds 

“Maybe not, i'm too nervous to eat right now” you say

“Hmm, are you sure? What about I make you one for later?” he asks

“Maybe next time” you say as you turn on your heels back to your room, rummaging through your cupboard you find a comfy hoodie to throw over your body to keep you warm and toasty throughout your exam. You pack up your bag and walk back out into the kitchen. You then return back to your room, retrieving your charging phone. 

“Missy, do you need a ride?” Ethan asks 

“Nah, the walk will be nice for me, good way to clear my head” you add, walking back out of your room. 

You grab your bag and sling it over your shoulders 

“Thank you by the way, for last night” you add looking back towards Ethan and Mark 

“No problemo, i'm sure you'll feel better soon” Mark says, turning his head to give you a cheeky wink 

You giggle a bit as You look back at ethan confusion still evident in your face 

“Don't listen to him, he's weird” Ethan adds as he walks towards you to give you a pat on the back “you'll do great” 

“Thank you” you say as you move out the door and towards school.

X

X

The timer blares through the room as everyone stands , making their way towards the teachers desk to send off their papers. You sit there for a minute, staring down at your paper, revising everything you wrote down. The girl beside you nudges you out of your trance as she waits for you to stand up and hand you paper i with her. All you can do is quietly walk your way down the daring stares that lead to the front of the class. You hand in your work with a deep breath and make your way back to your previous seat, ready to go home and eat your feelings. 

“How do you think you went?” the girl beside you asks as you both walk out of the room,

“Um i think i did okay, passable i hope” you responde 

“I'm sure you did great, you wrote a lot more than i did”

“Hmm how do you think you went?” you ask 

“Good.. i hope”

“You did good, i know it”

“Thanks, missy. I was gonna ask before but how's everything going with Luke? Are you gonna see him soon?” she asks

“Maybe, idk. We haven't been talking too much recently”

“Aww thats a shame well i hope all goes well”

“Yeah, thanks”

“Bye missy” she exits the conversation, making her way over to her next class 

“Bye” you add, thankful that this was the only class you had scheduled for the day.

The walk home was calming , the cold breeze blowing on your face created a refreshing cooling to your hot body as you walked through the campus, passing a couple friends and saying hi briefly before separating.

You make your way to your apartment, trudging up the stairs in a final burst of energy. Unlocking the door you walk into your heated apartment, looking down as you remove your bag, take off your hoodie and hang your keys up, not making note of the tall figure sitting on the bar stools next to your kitchen. 

You turn around and are met with Luke - your boyfriend. The man who you love. The man who's been ignoring you. 

“Hey baby” he says, standing up to walk towards you

You take a step back, anger and confusion plastered on your face 

“Well at least you have the courtesy to do it in person” you say, crossing your arms over your body, sliding your sleeves over your knuckles.

Luke looms over at you, he stares in confusion, trying to read your emotions.

“What are you talking about?” 

Your gaze leaves the floor and meets his, anger bubbling inside your stomach 

“You wanna break up?” you say bluntly, mono toned and unnatural 

“What?? No ??Why would you think that?” Luke argues, voice becoming higher and his breath itching slightly at the information that his girlfriend thinks he drove 9 and a half hours just  to break up with her.

“Are you serious? No call? no text? no nothing, not even a stupid instagram reel and you think my mind wouldn’t wander to that?” you say, stepping forward at each word, announcing your words with a spit of fury.

“I did call and I did text” Luke defends, hands slapping against his sides.

“Barely, Luke we only called for ten minutes a week and all you talked about was stupid hockey and I love hockey but that's all you would talk about. And not to mention the dry messages I mean we barely even talked like normal people, just robots with no love for each other.” you rant on, eyes feeling heavy as tears glistened in your sockets, afraid to let them fall you do your best to blink them away before luke notices.

“Missy” Luke whispers, snaking his hands to your forearms 

“I was only trying to give you space, I knew you would get stressed with your upcoming finals so I wanted to give you as much time as you needed to study. I didn't mean to be dry and unloving towards you” his voice was soothing and calm, his fingers brushing lightly on your clothed arms.

“Well it was a dumb decision” you grumble, earning a snicker from luke 

“yeah , it was and I'm sorry.” he agrees 

“So why are you here then? If you aren't gonna break up with me?”

“I was planning to come down after your finals were finished, I was originally driving in tomorrow but Ethan messaged me last night telling me to come early” 

“Oh. so that's why they were acting weird” you say, reciting the events of last night in your head.

“Yeah, Do you know why he said that?” 

“Well i was a bit emotional last night, i was crying while stuffing my face with pizza” you laugh looking back up at luke.

“Oh my, so is that why Ethan sent me 43  messages at midnight?” Luke adds, smiling to himself before pulling up his phone to show you the absurdly concerning amount of texts from the boy.

“I'll take it that Ethan and Mark were not very good at comforting you?” he says, sitting back down on the bar stool and pulling you to stand in between his legs 

“They weren't too bad , maybe not the best tho” you say, giggling slightly at the situation 

Silence fills the room for a bit before luke speaks up 

“I'm sorry I caused you so much stress, I love you and I wouldn't trade you for the world. Maybe I should try and talk to you more and not just about hockey, hm?” he speaks, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear 

“Yes please” you smile before leaning in to give him a deep kiss. You both pull away before going back in for a warm and comforting hug, swaying slightly.

“I don't know about you but i'm starving, do you wanna go get some food?” Luke asks, speaking into the crook of your neck 

“mhm, exams make me hungry and that breakfast bar Ethan snuck into my bag wasn't very filling” you add, moving so you can look at Luke once more, placing a delicate kiss on his lips 

“About Ethan, should I talk to him about how pizza doesn't solve every problem?” 

You giggle at his comment, staring softly into his muddy blue eyes before being interrupted by Ethan opening his door 

“PIZZA SOLVES EVERYTHING” he shouts just before slamming his bedroom door closed.

“He's been home this whole time?” I ask Luke 

“Who do you think let me in?” Luke chimes, smirking down at you.

wriggling out of his arms its not long till you're pulled back by a  gentle hand on your wrist 

“Wait, I  gotta ask how your exam went” Luke asks, hands sneaking around my waist and resting on my lower back.

“It went okay, i didn't give up so that's good” i say, shrugging.

“Mhm good, never give up” he says, finishing his comment by  patting my head.

Silence is left between us once again, eyes frowning as he tries to read my expression 

“I missed you, Lukey. Don't pull that shit again”

“I missed you too, and judging by how angry you were when you came home i definitely won't” he says as we both make our way out the door and down the stairs.

[redvelvetstars22]

Stolen Dance

~Josh Washington x reader fluff! 💖~

———————————————————————————

“Josh?” you called from upstairs. “Josh, honey, come quick!”

You could hear your boyfriend groan tiredly, clearly not happy about being woken up from his nap. He slowly climbed the staircase up to the second floor, every step on the wooden boards creating a slight creaking noise that echoed throughout the house. Upon reaching your shared bedroom, Josh pushed the door open and looked around for you. After a few minutes of searching, he eventually found you knelt down in the farthest corner of the closet.

“Uh, babe? What are you, uh, doing back there?” He questioned, the corner of his lips lifting into a confused smile.

You didn’t really give him a proper reply. Instead, you smirked and spoke only two words.

“Zombie. Dinosaurs.”

Josh quirked a brow at first, but then realization slowly crept across his face. His eyes went wide and that tiny smile he was wearing quickly got swept off his lips.

“No way,” he muttered, “There’s no way you found it.”

“Oh but I did, my dear Joshua. You’re old laptop, just filled with allll your high school films~,” you cooed, now holding up the computer in both hands and waving it around teasingly. The best way to describe Josh’s reaction to this was pure horror. He immediately tried to snatch the computer from you, but to his dismay you jerked away and hid the device behind your back with a giggle.

“Babe come on!” he whined. “I was in 10th grade when I filmed those! They’re terrible!”

“Whaaat? No way! I just watched half of the first movie and saw a 16 year old Mike playing the president of the United States. That’s peak cinema, Josh.”

“Yeah, he took his role wayyy too seriously…But still! That whole film was so bad,” Josh groaned dramatically. Despite his actions though, he dragged himself over to you and plopped down beside you on the floor. Then before you knew it, you were tugged onto his lap, where he kept you trapped by wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

“Oh? Do you actually want to watch your cringy movies now?” You joked.

“Not really, but Chris played a dinosaur in this one and it was hilarious,” Josh chuckled, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You and Josh ended up watching the entire movie together. It was, of course, very silly and nonsensical but you two did get some good laughs out of it. The Brainosaurus was definitely the funniest part though. All Josh had done was scribble on a toy dinosaur to make it look “zombie-like” and then zoomed in on it while filming so that it looked way bigger than it was. You had asked if he still had the toy, but he unfortunately didn’t since he gave it to Chris as a sort of souvenir for being in the movie.

Your guys’ banter was quickly cut off however when the credits finished rolling. To both of you’s surprise, there was more footage that had been recorded.

The computer screen showed a younger Josh walking around the school’s cafeteria with a fake microphone in hand. He was playing the role of a news reporter and was speaking to the camera about the “brain-eating dinosaur situation”. After giving his short report on the dinosaurs getting more dangerous, he shouted “cut” while giving a quick clap of his hands. A relieved sigh sounded from behind the camera, which earned an amused laugh from Josh.

“Chris, dude, you’ve only been recording for 10 minutes! There’s no way you’re tired already!” Josh exclaimed.

“I haven’t eaten all day! Can’t we just take a lunch break? Since we’re at lunch??” Chris asked, sounding exasperated. With a short sigh, Josh gave a quick, somewhat defeated nod. The camera was then pointed at the floor for the next few minutes as the two of them went to get their food. Once they found a table to sit at afterwards, the camera was placed on the table and positioned to face them.

The boys rambled to each other about various subjects for a little while. Josh had been yapping about a recent failed test he had gotten back before suddenly pausing mid story to stare at something off camera. Chris raised an eyebrow and followed his friend’s gaze. He then smirked and nudged Josh’s shoulder.

“Ah, staring at Y/N again, huh? Just go ask them out already, bro.”

“W- What?” Josh sputtered. “No way! You remember the last time I tried that…”

“Oh yeahhh! The ketchup incident-!”

“Don’t remind me!!…Ughhh why did I point the bottle at them..??”

Chris let out a loud cackle which caused him to also start choking on his food. Josh slapped his back a few times, stopping only when he was sure Chris was breathing normally again. Instead of being grateful for his best friend’s help though, Chris grinned wickedly and shouted for you.

“Y/N! Josh has something he wants to ask youuu!” Chris called in a sing song voice. Josh jolted upright in his seat and immediately smacked the other’s arm while telling him to “shut up” through gritted teeth. But then he seemingly noticed you walking over and shrunk back down in his seat. A younger you was now in frame as you sat down beside Josh, giving him a curious smile.

“What’s up, Washington?” You asked, tilting your head slightly. Josh cleared his throat and was right about to speak when Chris cut him off again.

“He wanted to ask you to Homecoming,” Chris blurted and his smile grew even wider. Josh simply blinked at first, caught off guard by the interruption. Then his face flushed and he turned around to shoot daggers at Christopher. When he turned back around to face you again, he simply mumbled a quick “yeah, what he said”.

Your eyes practically lit up at his words. With a wide smile, you cupped his face in your hands and squealed ecstatically.

“Yes! Definitely! Absolutely!” You smiled brightly. So brightly, in fact, that it completely distracted Josh for a few minutes. He hastily shook his head to snap out of it and put on his best confident expression.

“Cool, super cool. I’ll pick you up around 7:30, that sound good?”

“Yup!”

“Great, it’s a date then~,” Josh winked flirtatiously. You blew him a kiss in return before getting up from the table to giddily run off camera. The two boys watched you for a few more moments, and then turned to each other with wide grins and loud cheers.

The video then suddenly shut off.

You and Josh sat there staring at the screen in complete silence. Which he almost immediately broke as he leaned closer to your ear.

“Y’know, you looked super hot that night~,” he purred, his warm breath ghosting over your ear. You felt a small shiver go down your spine, your own breath hitching quietly. Upon noticing your reaction, Josh pulled away and shot you his usual relaxed expression, though a hint of mischief twinkled in his eyes.

“Buuuut we never did get to slow dance ‘cause, well, those fries gave you food poisoning.”

That’s it. That memory completely ruined the mood. You almost wanted to throw up right now just remembering how awful you felt that night…

“Ughhh, I thought we weren’t ever going to talk about that again??” you whined.

“Oh no, I will *always* remember what those fries stole from me,” Josh pouted as he crossed his arms. Honestly, you’d never forgive those fries for what happened either. It was completely embarrassing. You threw up in front of Josh like five times that night and honestly, you thought he’d never want to even look at you ever again. But then he actually came over to your house the next day just to check in and see how you were feeling. He ended up staying over the whole day all so that the two of you could play video games until you were feeling somewhat better again. You’re definitely sure that that’s the day you knew you were completely and utterly in love with Joshua Washington.

Now that you think about it, maybe there is a way for you and Josh to have that dance after all.

“Josh,” You spoke up suddenly, “Put on your best suit and meet me downstairs when you’re done, okay?”

Your boyfriend furrowed his brows in confusion and slight suspicion. “Why? What are you planning, babe..?”

You closed the laptop and set it down on the floor beside you as you began to wiggle out of Josh’s grasp. Once you were free you stood up and held out a hand for Josh to take.

“We’ve got speakers and mood lights… It’s perfect for slow dancing, don’t you think?”

Josh’s lips quickly upturned into a warm grin. “You wanna do that now?”

“Is that a problem, Washington?”

“Nah, not to me. I’m just surprised you’re so eager to be swept off your feet.” Josh took your hand in his, allowing you to help him up. His arms then slid around your waist as he stepped closer to press a soft, loving kiss to your forehead.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be sure we finally get that slow, romantic dance. And this time, no gross french fries are gonna get in our way…”

[whereispearlescentmoon]

Permit Master Summary!

Gem is judging!

Round One: Best Smallest Thing

Jimmy- Tiny yoda he got from Grian which he wasn't supposed to tell Gem (1 Point)

Pearl- Baby crafting table that apparently isn't what she was going to bring originally so Gem is mad she gave into peer pressure (2 Points)

Joe- Tiny Hands (3 Points)

Ren-Tiny Skateboard that comes with skate shoes for his fingers that Gem watched him buy (3 Points)

Cub- Coin from 2015 Minecon (4 Points)

Martyn- Cat toy he stole from Jimmy's house and cat toy he stole from Grian (4 Points)

False- Tiny Minecraft Turtle (5 Points)

==========================

Round Two: In Hermitcraft build the most interesting face. Then using your real face, immitate the face you just made. The closest immitation wins.

I didn't catch what everyone's faces looked like.

Cub used nerf darts being held up to his face.

Joe is already dressed as a pumpkin which is what his face was.

False has utilized a snack box and oranges.

Ren, Martyn and Jimmy all used sticky notes to imitate theirs.

Pearl drew on her face in green sharpie.

Cub got a 1

False got a 2

Joe and Ren both got a 3

Martyn and Jimmy got a 4

Pearl got a 5

==========================

Round Three: Write a jingle to encourage donations. The best jingle wins. You can use non hermits.

Jimmy has stolen Oli immediately. Oli is playing the keyboard at home and Jim has a toy guitar. Jimmy isn't singing or doing anything at all, just having Oli do it.

False tried to get Skizz, Kirsty, and Impulse but they all said no. She is the only one with no partner. She is using a variety of paddles and an aluminum food tin, and asking chat for rap lyrics because she can't sing. She has decided to pull up a beat on her phone and rap to it.

Martyn has a bunch of weapons as instruments that he is having Skizz use for drumming and is using chat for lyrics. He is also rapping. I liked his the best.

Pearl is singing to herself and is using Karn to sing and write lyrics. They are just singing, no instruments. They did a very Aussie song.

Ren is using paddles and a stool as drums and has commandeered a Gamer's Outreach employee named Stage (?) to play harmonica. He's doing some kind of chant? His was my least favorite.

Cub has the cat key board with Impulse playing and is using chat for lyrics. Cub is also rapping to Impulse banging on the keyboard. Short and sweet.

Joe has a phone keyboard and Badger. He has done a song to tune of Old McDonald.

Jimmy gets 0 points. Oli gets 5 points.

False got 2 points. She is not happy. She is threatening to beat Skizz up and yelling.

Pearl and Karn's acapella Aussie duet gets a 3.

Cub and Impulse get a 3 for Impulse's silly little expression.

Ren and Stage got a 3 because Gem pities Stage.

Joe gets 4 points for a "fantastic little jingle".

Martyn gets 5 which we expected.

Bonus Task: They tricked Jimmy into lining up 100 pieces of grass. In classic taskmaster fashion, no one else did it.

==========================

Task Four: Take the best shot. Either record it and send it in discord or tell them when you're ready to put in their brain boxes later.

Everyone has grabbed Weapons except for Jimmy.

I got this sick screenshot of False.

Pearl dunked the enderman plushie in the toy chest.

Joe has a Nerf bow and arrow and tried to hit a sheep in a cardboard cutout and missed three times and hit once.

Cub has a toy bow and arrow and failed to shoot it into a Target bag three times and hit once.

Martyn managed to catch a rubber chicken thrown from a balcony in a bucket.

Ren repeatedly failed to shoot a coffee cup off of Karn's computer when asked to do it live, but someone got a video of him doing it successfully to show them

False has a good shot of Martyn. Just a nice photo she's gonna Tweet out.

Jimmy failed a bunch of times to try and kick an orange in a cone and ran out of time. "Chat, your streamer, useless" said Gem to Jimmy's stream.

False is still mad at Gem. "I don't usually say to send hate, but please send hate to Gem".

Jimmy gets 0 points for not taking a shot and wasting oranges.

Joe and Cub both get 1 point for failing repeatedly but at least they tried.

False gets 3 points for taking an unflattering shot of Martyn.

Pearl gets 4 points for dunking the enderman smoothly.

Ren and Martyn get 5 points for being actually impressive.

==========================

Round Five: Meet up with your partners in Hermitcraft and invent the best secret handshake.

Teams: Cub and Joe, Martyn Jim and Pearl, Ren and False

Ren is going to get murdered by False. She is so angry at him because he can't figure out how to get into a group. They are building two "hands". False is going to kill this man. They are making their handshake even after time is up. Ren is trying to tell her time is up and she is telling him it doesn't matter and to just listen to her.

The Evo Crew is setting off firework rockets and jumping from a high place with totems. Pearl is stealing from Cub and planning on paying him back later. They have the energy of a group of children trying to make a play to get to sleepover.

Cub and Joe are having two armor stands shake hands. They are the only ones doing anything efficiently.

THE HANDSHAKES ARE MEANT TO BE IRL! THEY PLANNED THEM IN MINECRAFT BUT HAVE TO DO THEM IRL!

The Evo Crew did a little dance one at a time and threw a bunch of Nerf Darts like fireworks.

Joe and Cub are fake dueling with forks.

False and Ren have jumped, did a fake little throw on the ground, done a spin, and then jumped towards each other to do a high five.

False accidentally said on the main mic that she's going to throw an orange at Ren's head.

Ren and False and Joe and Cub got 4 points.

The Evo Crew got 5 points.

==========================

Final Round: Disguise a carrot. The best disguise wins.

Pearl's Final Result:

Joe's Final Result:

Cub's Final Result:

False's Final Result:

Jimmy's Final Result:

Ren's Final Result:

Martyn's Final Result

Final Round Scores:

Joe gets 1 point because he hid his rather than disguised it.

Cub gets 2 points for being low effort.

False gets 3 points because Gem can still tell its a carrot.

Martyn gets 4 points.

Tied for 5 points are Pearl, Ren, and Jimmy.

==========================

Final Scores:

7th Place: Oli-5 points

6th Place: Jimmy and Cub-15

5th Place: Joe-17

4th Place: False-19

3rd Place: Ren- 23

2nd Place: Pearl-24

1st Place: Martyn-27

Martyn wins all the tiny things!

[sturniolo04]

Tour Sickness M.S.

Bf!Matt x Gf!Fem!Reader

A/N: If you don't like the preadded name in my stories, you can either add your own name or not read it; it's up to you- Charli

Dividers by: @bernardsbendystraws

When the triplest invite you to tag along on there second tour of their career the versuses tour. At the start you were so excited to tag along because not only would you be able to travel a little and get out of your little LA bubble and also to spend some time with not only all of the triplets but your boyfriend matt specifically. Although how could you forget about the most hated thing; the most depised thing about every road trip, car ride, bus ride or anything that has to do with being in a vehicle with moving wheels; your car sickness.

This something Matt and his brothers knew this was an ongoing issue which is part of the reason why you guys don't too much traveling on the road because of this issue. Although over time you felt like you got the issue some what under control by taking medicine and sometimes it helps and other times not so much. This was one of those trips that you hope they work.

"did you take your meds lover"

matt asks as you two were the last to board the tour bus you guys were going to be using for the versuses tour to get from state to state.

"yeah i juts really hope it works i dont want to be or get sick"

you whine out.

"well if you do just let nick know so we can pull over and get some air"

chris adds on as he takes as seat on the couches in the area to lounge in as you subtly nod your head going mute wanting to be limited on words and speaking as you begin to feeling the bus start to move from the rumbling vibrations beneath your feet.

"i'm, g'nna lay down"

you mumble as you slowly make your way to yours and matt shared bunk on the bus.

"have a good nap"

nick chuckles as he is working on something on his computer as he notices your fleeting act to disapear.

It had been about a hour and half into the nearest hotel in the state of San Francisco, where the first shows was going to be on the tour. Growing bored of tossing and turning in the uncomfortable bunk you climb out as you land on your feet stumbling a little as the bus goes over a little bump in the road disheveling your balance a little resulting in you holding your stomach slightly. You begin to walk over slowly to where matt was located which just so happen to be the couch that appear to look like chris and him havent left in about an hour and half.

"hi sleepyhead"

matt greets you as you sit on his lap draping your legs across his wrapping your arms around his neck and leaning your head on his shoulder as he begins to comfortingly rubs you back.

"hi"

you greet back as you slightly glance at the tv screen in front of you all displaying a random game that chris was attempting to play.

'how are you feeling"

matt quietly asks you slightly whispering in your ear.

"not too good"

you state out honestly pouting a little.

"do want me to tell nick so we can stop and get some air"

he ask growing concerned as you shook your head 'no'

"you sure"

matt reiterates wanting you to be honest with him if you need to stop for air. You nod your head which seemed a little more delayed as you could feel you stomach rejected and shifting negatively from the movement of the bus and matt notices this.

"hey we are about 10 minutes away from the hotel so we can rest before the show"

nick announces as you quickly stand up from matts lap rushing towards the tiny bathroom.

"she okay"

chris asks noticing your quit exit, pausing his game getting bored of it.

"ohh she's throwing up"

nick sighs out as he begins to hear the audibly gagging behind the close bathroom door as matt and chris make their way over to the door.

"hey you okay princess"

matt asks after awarding the closed door with a couple of light knocks.

"mmmh"

you mumble out not being able to fully get words out knowing you were going to throw up iof you used any words at that moment.

"do you want us to get you anything"

nick asks as chris steps away to grab your baby blue stanley cup with a blue shark straw topper covering your straw bringing it back over to the bathroom door.

"i have your water"

chris softly speaks up as all three of them gasp out when they hear the now audiobly sounds of throw up spilling into the toilet bowl.

"ohhh"

nick gasps as he covers his mouth looking s matt with concern written all over his face.

A couple of minutes pass and you guys finally make it to the hotel with the slight assistance of chris and matt as nick follows behind with their duffels bags for the night stay.

"you got it"

chris questions as you are walking completely normal. Sometimes they act like you cant to anything when you go through and episode.

"i got it guys i just had a little road sickness"

you huff out as yuou guys take a step into the hotel room you all were sharing for the night.

"we are just worried lover"

matt chuckles as they get situated in the room.

A few shows later your road sickness wasn't as bad that was until you guys reached the shows that are close in timing in which they were going to take place, which also meant we would have to sleep in the bunks and not be able to stop at a hotel. Which made you feel uneasy

"how you doing sweetheart"

matt asks sitting down next to you on the couch.

"okay i guess"

you state mumbling under your breath. You had taken your medicine but you felt like it wasn't working as well and you guys were just starting the 3 hour journey.

"did you take your stuff"

matt asks as nick and chris make their way to the other couch across you two as you simply hum in discomfort laying your head on matts lap.

You ended up falling asleep with your head on your boyfriends lap not even realizing or being fully aware of your hand placement on your boyfriends crotch too concerned with keeping the contents in your stomach at bay.

'she is gripping that thing dude"

chris chuckles out noticing and take note of matt's girlfriend hand placement.

"chris"

nick exclaims absolutely shocked his eyes even took note of this placement.

"dude the only way you would know that was the case was his you were looking at my crotch"

matt rolls his eyes gazing down at your face taking note of the slightly discomfort on your face.

"sorry but there is no way she is sleep dude"

chris chuckles gazeing down at his phone again as nick and matt notice you slightly move around almost as if you are waking up.

"chris stop looking at my dick"

matt huffs towards his brother as he lifts his tattooed arm up that was resting on your hip as you slightly begin to sit up.

"hey sleepyhead-"

matt greets getting cut off abruptly as you lunge forward onto your boyfriends lap not being able to stop the contents that spilled out onto his lap.

"oh oh oh oh ohh"

chris exclaims as he realizes what happened as you immediately sprint into the bathroom.

"eww oh god"

nick exclaims out standing up to grab something to help clean matt's blue and black plaid pj pants.

"you okay lover"

matt asks you as you come out of the bathroom sobbing in pure pain uncontrollably as chris tries to comfort you rubbing your shoulder soothingly.

"hey its okay"

matt coos as makes his way over to you after changing into a different pair of pj pants hugging you and soothingly rubbing your back softly.

"we are pulling over so we can get some air"

chris states as he watches nick go up the driver and request a gas station break.

"here take a deep breath; chris and matt are going to get you a sprite"

nick states as you rush over to the trashcan with him following behind you scared you weren't done with getting everything out of your system.

"you feel like youre going to be sick again"

nick questions as he gathers your hair in his palms so it isn't in your way as you slowly nod your head, quickly lunging forward releasing everything in your stomach into the trashcan you two were standing at.

"oh gross"

nick chuckles jokingly acting disgusted.

"sorry"

you sigh out wiping your mouth with matt's hoodie sleeve. sorry matt

"no you are all good i know you cant help it"

nick sympathizes as he releases your hair as you stand up as matt and chris make their way over to you two.

"you okay lover"

matt questions rubbing your back as chris hands you a sprite.

"no im sorry im ruining this tour for you guys"

you huff out feeling extremely bad that you are the center of attention this tour.

"oh my god no dont feel bad its okay its not the end of the world you know"

chris jokes as you nod your head.

Taglist

@mintsturniolo @spicymuffins03 @dirtylittleheart333

@ksturnz @wh0resstuff @stayingstromboli @chaoswithus

@emely9274 @ivysturnss @lyingonchris @lezleeferguson-120 @courta13

@chrepsi @tezzzzzzzz @zenithsturniolo