#sorry about all this I just feel so frustrated!! I can and should be better!!
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@princess-of-the-corner
Thinking of Aware Lila being part of the group and how that probably pisses Marinette off and had this discussion in mind.
Marinette was practically pulling out her pig tails as Kagami watched on with a fond sort of bemusement at the girls expressive antics.
"I just don't get why she has to keep lying, its so frustrating listening to her just spew nonsense after nonsense like its nothing."
Kagami tilted her head, just a little, "It is quite obviously vexing you, and for that I am sorry."
Marinette waved her off, "You're not the one whose pants should be on fire. Though... I mean why do you hang out with her? Chloe & Adrien I kind of get, your parents are all vaguely aligned and you're in the same circles. Lila's not actually rich or famous-" Marinette gasped, "Has she tricked your parents!?"
Kagami actually let out a huff of amusement, despite its quiet nature, it ran through her whole body.
"That would be amusing to see, my mother hanging on Lila's every word, but no. That woman has no time for even sly boasting and the others parents are little different."
She held up her hand when Marinette looked ready to speak and added, "Lila's mother is genuinely a diplomat, and while not in our parents sphere of wealth she is connected enough that it behooves all of us to at least be polite."
Marinette sighed and flopped back down on the bed at Kagami's side.
"I suppose, though you'd think being able to attend events like you do and having a respected diplomat for a mother would be enough. Like its not even as if she's stupid or has no talents so she has to make things up to brag about even. What's the point? I just... I don't get why someone would lie when they don't have to."
Kagami stilled, and Marinette watched as her friends manner shifted, no longer angling towards her but instead stiff as she stared into space. Experience said to let Kagami think and after a minute of growing anxiety in the silence, Kagami spoke, her voice like tempered glass, strong but made of fragile things.
"I don't think you can understand, Marinette... Or perhaps it is not something I have the words to explain. Maybe if you experienced it... But I would never wish that on you, never."
She finally turned to Marinette, gaze intense, even as her eyes focused somewhere other than Marinette's own.
"It is love, it always comes back to love, or more, the absence of it and the quest to find it, to claim it. To let it fill that gaping chasm inside yourself that exists only because of something integrals absence."
Marinette took one of Kagami's hands and squeezed and saw the fencers breathing steady as she pressed on.
"You can't imagine what its like to never know it but always feel like its just out of reach. The depths someone might sink, the lengths they would go to finally have it."
"You might convince yourself if you just twist yourself a little more for them, tear another piece of yourself away, break yourself or someone else, that it will finally be granted to you. That you can let it sink deep into your bones and sinew and finally, oh finally, you can be happy without hurting."
Marinette shuffled closer, pressing herself at Kagami's side.
"If you can't do that, can't trick yourself into going down that path on a fruitless quest you do the next best thing. You lie. You lie to yourself, or to others. Because even false happiness is better than real despair. Or at least, that's what you tell yourself, even as you starve and wither on the inside..."
Kagami's entire body shuddered, it was somehow both the most powerful sensation Marinette had ever felt and the most subtle she'd ever seen. A reminder that even in her moments of deepest hurt Kagami could not show even a hint of weakness.
Her eyes were stinging now, and Marinette let out a sob.
Kagami's entirely frame pivoted to her, something like terror in her eyes. "Marinette, I- I don't now what I did, b-" She let out a surprised breath as Marinette practically flung herself into the taller girls embrace, pressing Kagami down on the mattress of her bed.
"You didn't make me cry... I'm crying... Because you can't, and you deserve to!" The other girl's powerful arms embraced her so tightly it was like she wanted them to stay locked together forever.
She buried her face in Kagami's neck and whispered, "You are loved, I love you Kagami."
Kagami couldn't speak, so she just held tighter, letting Marinette etch herself ever deeper inside her soul and sinew. She'd do anything for this moment to last.
#Oneshot#One scene#Marigami#kagaminette#Miraculous Ladybug#Aware of Abuse AU#Aware AU#Sort of shipping#Sort of friendship#Sort of Kagami's heart is made of glass and she'd die for love#They're all traumatized your honor
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one of my more frustrating traits for myself is that I have spent so much of my life deeply immersing myself in One Piece Of Media For Years that I really don't have anything that can be called "taste", just a collection of facts and opinions about like one thing at a time. I have no variety and it is a significant effort to get me to experience something new instead of the same thing I like for the twentieth time. and I am very aware that this is one of the worst things you can do to yourself as a writer.
#:PHOENIXHEADINHANDS:#you know when you read things and it's like. huh! this person is smart and well read! yeah.#feel like I'm constantly playing catch up because most other people have experienced more things than me in like pretty much every category#especially this past year where it feels like I haven't had any Life Experiences and barely any Media Experiences#kicking myself repeatedly to 'read a book' or 'watch a movie' or 'watch a tv show'#or like. 'talk to someone'. 'go outside'. 'touch grass'#can barely give opinions on things bc I have so few things to compare it to#another thing to add to the list of 'I know this isn't good for me but I just can't get myself to change!'#but I am reading a new book. and it is fun. and I should do that more often. but I know I won't.#ramblings#sorry about all this I just feel so frustrated!! I can and should be better!!
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Saw a video and it got me in a mood so i'm making this post.
I don't think people who have never been fat knows how fucking hard it is to find clothing for bigger bodies.
The first issue is finding stuff in your actual size. Because time after time after time and time again I've gone to a store and they only had small and medium sizes. Not even large. And this was not for a few clothes, no. It was for MOST clothes that I found interesting. And then the ones that were marked as large were simply not big enough.
And I know that the reason for that is that brands simply won't make clothes for fat people. It's that because it surely isn't because the large size is selling out fast. They just don't do it. And some people have the nerve to say 'well brands are not obligated to make sizes for everyone' yeah sure, but also, I can't walk naked on the street can I?
Like I don't get it. 'oh but we want our clothes to fit a especific body' so fucking make clothes that are supposed to fit bigger bodies. Doesn't have a to be a whole ass collection.
And then we get on the second problem which is making clothes for plus size people that are ugly as hell. It's always the same stuff: ugly florals, animal print that belongs in another decade, cold shoulders, that weird extra fabric at the end of a shirt to hide the belly, or just black/muted colors.
Like fun fact. If you have big boobs, the hardest thing in the world is trying to find a bra that comes in a color that isn't white, black or beige. Because trust me, I've spent 3 hours walking in the shopping mall and I couldn't find anything that fit my breasts that was like pink (and in that situation I needed a pink bra for a play).
It feels like most clothes made for plus sized people are designed with like 50+ year old white women in mind, and not even that demographic of people are wearing those clothes (my mom is a plus sized 50+ year old white woman and often talks about how ugly some clothes made for people her size are).
It's hard trying to develop your own sense of style when none of the clothes around you are in your size, and when they do, they are just not good looking to you.
But you wanna know what's the down right worst part? Do you know what fucking brand has clothes that look good and are amde for bigger bodies?
The goddamn cancer on this earth that is Shein.
I fucking hate shein. Fast fashion is killin the fashion industry, they literally have people working as slaves and many influecers buy shein clothes by the bulk only to then throw it in the trash. Shein is awful.
But. Unfortunetly, shein is the only place that I found that had clothes that fit me and looked good. I don't like that. I avoided buying from shein for the longest time ever, but jesus christ, when you can't find clothes anywhere else you get desperate.
I tried looking for other places. I tried looking at my local clothing stores and everything was too small for me. I tried looking at online small bussinesses but they either didn't make my size, or it was sold out, or the prices were very high. Tried looking at thrift stores, also didn't find my size.
I try not to buy too much from shein or to spend long periods of time in between buying, because again, I feel bad about buying there. I don't want to buy from there.
Clothing brands/stores gotta do better. And I don't think that's asking for too much.
#this is less polite as i usually am because i'm so fucking tired of this shit#like these brands make probably millions every year#why is it apparently too much to ask for clothes in bigger sizes????#like idk i think everyone should be able to buy clothes that fit them and look nice???#and like god i don't want anyone to come on here be um actually it's very hard for the clothing industry to be inclusive#bc this post ain't about that#this post is about how frustrating it is to find clothes when you're fat#and also don't come for me bc of where i'm buying some stuff from ok#i feel so fucking guilty every time i buy from there#and like my friends buy from shein like every other week practically#i usually buy from there every 6+ months or so#and it's usually like a dress or two#at least i know that I don't throw clothes in the trash#if there's something here or there that doesn't look amazing but it's workable i'll go to the seamstress#if it doesn't fit me at all (which is a risk that can happen with online shopping) i donate it#and i will wear clothes until i can't wear them anymore#and even when i can't wear them anymore they they are usually still in a good enough condition that i can donate it to charity#or to someone close to my family who might give it a better use#this is a very big rambling sorry about this it's just aaaaaaaaa#i probably should go sleep
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How do I explain the ways in which the bill origins fic 'A Romance of Many Dimensions' by haley3 rewired my brain without needing to give paragraphs upon paragraphs of context. The fic is something like 200,000 words long. Almost every single good moment calls back to things that are set up earlier in the fic
#godsrambles#girl help 'the colors in our universe are the same as the ones in his home dimension because our universe is made out of a piece of bill'#makes NO sense without adding way more context#not to speak of 'bill is obsessed with ford because he can Feel the same cosmic thread connecting them as the one that drew him towards-#-meeting his henchmaniacs which makes him convinced against all odds that ford is gonna join him'#and the long beginning is set in flatland. its what finally got me to read the book flatland#and now I will literally think to myself 'its not that i Have to do x or y tasks. i GET to do x or y tasks isnt that great'#'i get to live in a physical form that experiences so many vivid thoughts and sensations while on bills favorite planet in the multiverse'#and i will be like 'why should i drag my feet about learning this or doing that. bill was literally trapped in a 2d world-'#'and KILLED to be able to experience a life as 3d and colorful as the one im in'#'and just like bill was so desperate to learn and see and do Everything that the axolotl gave him a ton of power so he could do that.'#'i Also want to learn and do and see everything i possibly can. and i literally HAVE the chance to do that'#'so i'd better start actually Trying to do and see and learn everything i can'#and then i brush my teeth slightly more often or whatever#fucking unhinged and ridiculous way of getting myself to do tasks#the events of this fic arent even my headcanon for bills powers and backstory. i just think its neat!#and now my brain has been permanently rewired by a got dam fan fic.#anyways sorry for all the spoilers but i mean. i doubt many folks would decide to read a fic that long without being intrigued by spoilers#most frustrating thing is that the hard hitting spoilers SEEM understandable without context.#but i promise there is a lot of context missing that makes it make sense why they are good plot points and not just weird random happenings#edit: its 200000 words not 600000. how did I misread that
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.
#i would just like to say that the anger frustration and confusion people ate feeling isn’t a result of this one ‘stunt’ or whatever you#**are#want to call it#it’s a culmination of all thr shit that’s been happening over the past 3 years or so#**the#i think people are just realizing that it’s not going away and only getting worse#and i think a lot of people’s strong emotions or opinions stem from the love and care they have for harry and louis#obviously#we don’t know them or their goals/plans for thr future#**the (holy shit i’m so sorry for all the typos lmao)#and it’s not our right to say#‘they should be doing XYZ’#but when you see the bullshit people are saying esp about harry#you can’t help feeling protective and defensive#and feeling like they both deserve better#idk#i just wish we could go back to like 2019#things just felt a lot safer for harry and fandom then#now everyone just waits for him to say or do something slightly off so they can make fun of him#and that makes me sad for him#he deserves a lot more respect than that :/
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genuinely very :( because i looked at the doesthedogdie page for the sandman and here we are yet again w the excessive gore !!!! i am so fsjdfjkl tired of it!!! i cannot watch it now bc wowzas there is. a lot of shit in there. RIP me and my sensitive little snowflake soul i guess :/
#rly frustrated w myself that i can't watch any mainstream shit these days bc everything has just disgusting amounts of gore#i can do violence and blood and even the occasional internal organ#but GOD. so much of this stuff is incredibly realistic (which is cool i guess! but why!!) and its just. Overkill honestly#im just fhsdhghsgjkl why cant i be normal and desensitized to all of it#why do i have to be such a fucking wimp about it#also i can't even do much for blood these days bc my brain will see it and start fixating on relapsing in SH lmao#genuinely feel like such a fucking wuss and like i just should not be allowed to live bc i'm such a fucking idiot abt things jdsfjkl#anyways. lowkey upset bc it looks like such a cool concept and plotline but of COURSE i cannot handle shit in it#because EVERY cool show these days has to have excessive gore and suicide/SH implications/references#fucking tired of it. make better shows honestly fjsfjkl#but then also maybe im being a prude so idk#i feel like a wuss and i also feel like maybe im right but also maybe im just being a prude and killing art by criticizing this#so. who the fuck knows. im tired and i cannot have a single thought anymore without picking it apart into little pieces#self harm mention#suicide mention#ALSO HI LOL DID YOU MISS ME VENTING ON HERE :))))) IM SO SORRY THAT IM BACK i'll try to stay quiet more though lol
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hi hello
#ngl i feel. conflicted#more like i kinda feel sick#i loved p*cco but i can't see him the same way anymore#and it's not even just about him#it makes me feel sick every time i remember most men in this sport can just... do whatever off track and no one will punish them#and i mean motorsports in generally bc it's overwhelmingly rich white men#and rich white men can get away with everything and the thing that#really holds me back from forgiving him beside how genuinely i hate drunk drivers#it's that since he knows this mistake won't be with that many consequences for him#does he really feel sorry? does he really care and knows what he did was wrong and he should behave better?#that's the thing. these men... we don't know if any of them are really not total assholes#we just kinda have to trust and sometimes close our eyes to some things#but there's a limit to that at least for me and it's different for everyone ig but i just#i waited to see how i'd feel when i saw him on track i waited bc i was conflicted#but the truth is i wasn't happy to see him race i'm not happy he won i'm just uncomfortable thinking of how he could've ended someones life#idk maybe i just see things too black and white maybe i am overdramatic i really just. that's how i feel#it's all fucked up and i just sometimes feel so frustrated by environments where cishet white men are allowed to do anything with impunity#idk if that's the right word whatever man i just don't like any of these feelings#bye
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head in my fucking hands. i am so bad at everything
#sorry i am falling into a pit of despair. i am so bad at my job i hate myself for it#i know im new and my training just ended but i just failed my 80 question test and i barely have any of the drink amounts or#combinations or anything memorized. i know how to make lattes and thats basically it and im so fucking disappointed in myself for not being#able to memorize this stuff quicker and better and im so upset that im not better than i am.#im so frustrated with myself. i feel like a weak link. i feel like one of the people IVE had to train at my old job. where they try so hard#but are frustrating to train but you feel bad for them. ugh fucking hell#im so frustrated with myself im just so upset about this#i know it all comes down to practice but i am just so unfit. i want to prove im worth it i want to prove i can belong there and be#everything i promised them i'd be. and i know its still early on but im not at the pace i should be or want to be and i am struggling to#believe in myself. im too hard on myself but its my fault i cant remember all of these things and its so fucking frustrating#i wish i had a better memory. i really really wish i did. im so upset#im devastated.
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Ctenizidae
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader
Summary: You’re an anomaly from another universe. You’re not dangerous though, so Miguel’s made the executive decision to keep you around until more dangerous criminals are caught and sent home first. Unless that’s not the only reason he’s decided to keep you around…
Content warnings: dub-con, voyeurism, masturbation, obsessive!Miguel
WC: ~1k
AN: Y’all this is so unedited but I wanted to write smut for this man so I did! If y’all like it I can post a second, smuttier part.
MDNI
“Here.” You drop a small plastic bin of chocolate chip cookies in front of Miguel. As a peace offering. No, really.
Miguel raises his right eyebrow in question. He doesn’t even answer you anymore. The other Spider-people go about their day in the cafeteria, having seen this scene time and time again.
Every day for the past two weeks since you were suddenly teleported to Nueva York and promptly labeled an anomaly, you’ve been practically begging Miguel to send you home. He’s declined every time.
This is pretty much how the conversation goes each time:
“Miguel, I think I should—“
“No. We have to send the most dangerous anomalies back to their universe first—“
“I’m dangerous! I’m plenty dangerous.”
“The only thing you’ve maimed, tortured, and killed in the past month is a flippin’ houseplant. You’re staying.”
You see how frustrating this man is?
So you’ve decided that maybe bribery— sorry, a peace offering— will work better. Hence, the cookies.
“Maybe if you eat something sweet you’ll stop being so bitter and stubborn all the time,” you smile tightly. “Then you’ll find it in your heart— the one that shrunk three sizes— to let me go home.”
“I appreciate the offering— though you could use some more creativity in your approach— but just know that these won’t get you home.” He pries open the container and lifts one to his mouth before moaning in delight. “These are delicious. Thank you,” he said, sucking the melted chocolate off of his thumb. His overly enthusiastic groans were clearly a tactic to piss you off, and it worked.
You simmer in anger as he smirks while chewing his cookie. You try to snatch the bin back, but he moves it out of your way.
“Ah, ah, ah,” he says, pushing up from the small table he was sitting at and leaning down to whisper near your ear. “No take-backsies.”
He flustered you, and he knew it. He laughed as he walked away. You stuttered a retort in embarrassment, but he didn’t even have the decency to turn around.
“Ugh, I hate that guy,” you stomped in anger. You muttered several curses before you turned around to leave, only to see several wide-eyed Spideys staring at you in concern. This is why you wait until after you’re alone to throw a tantrum— it scares the locals. Whoops. “Uhh, carry on. My bad. Enjoy your lunch!”
You quickly walk away, feeling defeated. But it doesn’t matter, you’ve got nothing but time. You’ll catch him when he’s sleeping. He’s gotta be more amenable then.
Later
“You know, just for the record, I think you going to his room this late at night is a terrible idea,” Lyla warned as she flitted between standing and reclining with her arms crossed behind her neck.
“Well I think him keeping me here is a terrible idea. I guess we’re all full of them.”
“Seriously—“
“Lyla I don’t care! I’ve got a family to get back to. Friends, a life. I don’t care how fine that man is, I’m going back home. Tonight, preferably.”
“Whatever, it’s your funeral.” She acquiesced before disappearing into the ether, just as you arrived at his door.
“Wait, Lyla! Open the door.” Without a response, the door opened. “Thanks, Lyla.”
You walked in to the large room to see Miguel sitting up in a chair near the center of the room.
“Miguel, you need to listen to me—“
The sight that met you was so shocking you had to take it in one part at a time.
First, You see Miguel’s side profile as he faces the wall to the left of you. He’s breathing heavy, chest heaving as his hand vigorously moves up and down his— oh. Maybe you came at the wrong time.
With the sudden awkwardness that’s overtaken you, you look somewhere else, anywhere else, only to find the source of what he’s staring at— a video, no, porn. The second piece of the puzzle, you take in the video’s content. First, you just see flashes of skin and hear soft grunts and moans emanating from the screen. But then you realize, the voices sound familiar, really familiar. Then it hits you.
It is you.
And him. The both of you together. And that realization connects all the pieces of the puzzle together. He’s keeping you here, on purpose.
Your eyes dart back to Miguel, who has now abandoned his video in favor of the live view he has right in front of him. He’s shirtless but he still has some grey sweats on, pushed down just enough that he can jerk off. His hands move desperately over his cock, aborted grunts and breathy moans coming out sporadically.
He turned his head to the side, his cheeks flushed and his eyes narrowed with desire. You were frozen, stuck in time. Miguel kept stroking his cock while staring into your eyes. He did this right up until his orgasm overtook him, throwing his head back and jerking his hips upward as he called out your name.
His cum spurted out in waves, once, twice, three times. It was thick and opaque and made a mess all over his lower stomach. He sighed and sank back into his chair.
“Did you enjoy the show?” His voice is low and heady as he calls out to you. It takes you a moment to respond, because admittedly you’re still staring at his— well, his everything, dick included. Still It was a very, very nice, thick, veiny d—“Am I interrupting?”
His teasing knocks you out of your reverie.
“I-I should go.” You said. You’re starting to realize that Lyla might have been right. Maybe you should’ve waited until the morning. You start backing up to leave but Miguel shakes his head and the door shuts behind him.
“No, no, no. See, that’s your problem. You’re always trying to leave,” he chastises.
He stalks towards you, like you’re prey. You move backwards until your back hits the door. He reaches over you, placing an arm over your head and his index finger under your chin, lifting it upwards. He bends down, close enough that you can see even minute details of his face.
He narrows his eyes as he bares his fangs.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
#marvel x reader#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x reader#marvel smut#across the spiderverse#spider man 2099#spider man smut#oscar isaac#oscar isaac characters#oscar isaac smut#y/n
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[Said Enough] Suna might have said too much but what's he supposed to do if you won't let him apologize?
wc: 1k
contents/warnings: angst(!!!) to fluff, quick drabble bc my Atsumu exes to lovers longfic isn't writing itself
“Oh,” you say. You stare at Suna and he watches you blink once before the last bit of light in your eyes dies out, irises glazing over.
Shit, he thinks. He’s running after you because he realizes what’s about to happen next.
All that comes out of your mouth is “okay. Um. I’ll just…” you don’t finish that sentence before running to the bathroom and locking the door shut.
He runs after you, but you beat him to it. The door slammed in his face, Suna rests his forehead against the wood and lays a flat palm on the divider between you two. “Baby…”
He doesn’t know what to say. He can hear your sobs and hiccups through the door, frustrated that he’s the cause but can’t get to you.
Scared to death thinking about what giving you your space could mean for the two of you.
“Baby, I’m sorry. Can you please open the door so we can talk?” but he knows it’s a lost cause. It’s been a lost cause since you beat him to the door. Turning around so that his back is against the door, he crumples down to the floor, head buried in his hands.
He should’ve known the second he saw the shutter in your eyes. He should’ve- fuck - he should’ve grabbed onto you to stop you from closing that door and shutting yourself away. He completely deserves to be single after the hurtful things he said to you tonight, and he wants a chance to apologize. Preferably, to your face. But with a literal wall between you two, you now have all night to think about what he said. All night to realize you deserve better. All night to conclude that you should leave him. Nothing scares him more than the look you’ll give him in the morning when you realize how much he doesn’t deserve you.
The rest of the night is spent periodically checking in on you and sending apologies through the walls. Your sobbing eventually quiets down into slow, measured deep breaths and but that brings little comfort. He can only hope you’re peacefully asleep and not awake to gather your thoughts and solidify your breakup speech for him.
–
Suna’s jolted awake next morning when the wall he’s leaning against suddenly shifts. He’s falling backwards as the door slowly opens, revealing your swollen cheeks and red eyes.
As if his nightmares have come true, there’s no uncertainty in your expression. It’s polite and shuttered.
“Rintaro,” you rasp, voice gravelly.
He’s already shaking his head.
“I think we should-”
He can’t let you finish that sentence. If this is the last chance he’s been waiting for, he needs to do something. So he puts both hands on your shoulders, gently, and looks straight into your eyes. It takes a surprising amount of courage to face that foreign look you’re fixing him with, and he realizes how lucky he has been to always be on the receiving end of your warm gaze and easy smiles.
“Please,” he whispers, almost begging. “Give me a chance to say I’m sorry.”
“I think you’ve said enough,” you respond, avoiding his eyes.
“Sometimes,” he starts. “Sometimes, I say too much and I’ll try harder to not do that. But more than that, I don’t say enough. I don’t tell you I love you enough and I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you do for me enough. I also don’t say I’m sorry enough but I want to stop doing things that I’d need to apologize for.”
You’re still not looking at him, but your lips are wavering and your eyes are watering.
“But I can’t change last night, so I want to apologize. I’m so, so sorry, baby. I’ll say it as many times as I need to.” As many times as you’ll allow me to.
His heart is palpitating and he can feel his pulse racing so hard, he can feel it through his veins. He wants to clench his fist to channel the nerves elsewhere, but they’re on your shoulders, and after last night, he can’t even think of treating you with anything other than the gentlest of touches. So you can understand how much you mean to him and how much he means to take care of you.
Yes, he didn’t mean any of the things he said last night, but he does mean to treat you well. He only hopes those intentions are enough.
Suna puts a hand on your cheeks and wipes the tears away with his thumbs, fingers lingering. Your tears don’t stop and the hiccups are starting again. You’re shaking your head at him and his heart drops. He hasn’t thought about what he would do if you don’t accept his apology. His voice is shaking a bit as he pleads his case.
“I… don’t want to break up,” the last two words whispered, as if he was scared that saying them aloud would give them power.
You’re sobbing, not saying anything, just shaking your head.
Suna doesn’t know what that means, only desperately hoping that you mean you don’t want to separate either. He throws his arms around you, tightly crushing you against his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut, bracing for impact, and he can hardly believe it when you reciprocate.
“You were so mean to me, Rin,” you blubber.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
“I hate you,” you’re wailing right into his neck now.
“I know, I know. I love you.”
When your sobs finally settle down, you keep your arms around his neck. “Rin, I’m sleepy,” you murmur, nuzzling into him.
He hums, the relief and lack of sleep hitting him all at once. He’s just as unwilling to let you go as you’re unwilling to let him go, so he picks you up by the thighs and takes you to get the sleep you both missed out on last night.
#noos writes#haikyuu angst#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq x y/n#hq x you#hq fluff#hq angst#hq imagines#suna rintaro#suna fluff#suna rintaro fluff#suna angst#suna rintaro angst#suna x you#suna x reader#suna x y/n#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro x y/n
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Simon Riley x Dog Sitter! Reader pt. 3
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Warnings: mild cursing, boredom, thas really it
A/N: Holy shit I cannot believe how much love this is getting, and it's so much fun to write!! I've decided to makes this a fully fledged fic instead of just a drabble, and I'll be posting it on ao3 too! Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! Also sorry if formatting changes, I'm trying to have some sort of order among my writing.
Simon had never told you how long he'd be gone - which was fine, your flat was only a twenty-minute drive from his home, should you need to do laundry or get more soap. You had some freelancing logo-design work you could focus on in your downtime, and Simon had been gracious enough to leave a note on the coffee table with the wifi password. Truth be told, you imagined this would feel like a holiday: no more shitty bosses. You were your own boss, here. You could make your own schedule, as long as you made time for Riley.
You soon discovered, after moving into Ghost's house, that it was very much not a vacation. The interior of his home was so barren that it made you feel like you had been sent to an asylum. On your first day there, you managed to get a bit of freelance work done; after that, you tried watching the telly, but you couldn't drown the heavy restlessness in the back of your mind.
You decided to phone a friend.
"What's Riley like?" Leslie said through the phone, which was tucked under your ear.
"Military dog." You replied. You were lying on the floor next to Riley, stroking her fur as her head rested on your stomach. "So proper, I've never seen anything like it. You know- when I made breakfast today, I dropped some food on the linoleum- she didn't bat an eye. Girl just watched."
"That's amazing... you know Donald would have run to it like it was the first meal he'd been fed in years."
You laughed, making Riley's head bounce on your abdomen. "Mum has got to stop feeding them real food..."
"What about the client?" Leslie said, changing the subject. "Simon, was it? What's he like?"
"Honestly?" You began, scratching between Riley's ears. "A decent guy, don't get me wrong - but bland. Gruff. His apartment is, too."
"Just like ya mum always said." She snickered. "Can I see?"
You sighed. "Nah, I never checked if it was ok to bring people over. Not sure if he'd appreciate me giving you a tour. But I'll ask next time if you can visit."
"That's fair..." You heard her shuffling around on the other end of the line. "Well listen babes, I should get back to work. Got five left on my lunch break."
You groaned at the prospect of having to be alone in Simon's barren home again. "Alright... still on for this Thursday?"
"You know it! Nina's coming too."
You grimaced. "Whoop-tee-doo..."
"Oh, c'mon, I'll make sure she's civil. Love ya."
"She'd better be. Love you!"
The call ended with a click, and you let the phone slide from your shoulder with a sigh. You stared at the ceiling, running through what you could possibly do. You'd already had a shower at your flat before coming here, you'd done plenty of work...
Riley tilted her head up to look at you, sensing your frustration. You looked back down at her.
"What d'you and Simon do all day?" You asked.
She sighed and looked away.
Maybe it was time for a walk.
"Alright, Riley!" You said, pocketing your phone and sitting up. She scrambled up at the sudden movement; her eyes followed your every move as you stood, her stare expectant and excited.
"Fancy a walk?" You asked.
She whined and yapped, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.
You chuckled. "C'mon, then - before you and I both start going insane."
On your way to the closet to fetch her leash, she had nearly knocked you down to beat you there. You huffed, leaning down to grab your shoes and tug them on. She sat (im)patiently and watched, her tail slapping against the wooden floor.
"Alright, alright..." You laughed, grabbing her leash and latching it onto her harness. She obediently trotted to the front door and sat, waiting for you. You opened the door and stepped outside, confused when the leash tugged in your hand. You looked back inside and saw that Riley hadn't moved from her seat on the floor. She looked at you, ears forward and eyes eager as she waited for... something.
You looked at her, puzzled. "What's wrong, girl?"
She whined, pointing one foot up and thumping her tail against the floor.
Oh, right. Military dog.
"Okay, Riley." You said clearly, and she happily trotted out the door. You chuckled, locking the deadbolt behind you and beginning the much needed walk. She stuck right by your side, never passing you nor falling behind.
For the kind of gruff, admittedly shady man that Simon was, you noticed that he lived in a pretty nice area. If you told your mum where he lived, she'd blow a cap out of jealousy - the houses were neatly lined down the street, each one with a driveway and a small garden bed underneath the living room windows. Simon's was noticeably bare - Christ, even his grass was thinner than the other neighbors', how does one manage that?
You eyed his empty garden bed as you passed it. You wondered if he would let you plant a few things... just to liven up the drabness. A couple of Hostas, maybe some African Violets... you knew he wouldn't want too much colour, but he definitely needed something to brighten his home. Currently, it stuck out like a sore thumb against the other houses. Not to mention, it would give you something to slice through the boredom of staying here.
Eventually, the sidewalk led to the edge of a small patch of woods. A bridge stretched over the creek, which then led to a longer, winding path through the trees. You came to a halt, reading the sign next to the trail.
"Po-wee-hee-co park..." You mumbled and Riley stared at you with her tongue hanging from the side of her mouth. "Poeheko Park? You ever been here?"
She looked between you and the trail, sniffing the air. She licked her lips and whined.
"Suppose not, Simon's only ever dragged you around the block a few times, huh?"
She eyed the trail warily, but you could see her eyes brimming with eagerness and interest. You chuckled, reigning in her leash and starting over the bridge. "Time for an adventure!"
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Simon sat stoicly on the heli, eyes fixed on the wall across from him. His palms rested on his thighs, fingers splayed. He appeared calm and collected, focused on the mission that Priced had debriefed not too long ago.
Except, the mission couldn't have been further from his mind. He was thinking about you and Riley. We're you giving her enough attention? That was a dumb question; clearly you knew how much attention a dog needed. You'd done this before... but had you ever worked with a dog that had certain needs and medications? You never mentioned it during the interview, and he didn't remember to ask. What if you couldn't see the signs when Riley's pain was flaring up? What if you had forgotten that she needed pain medication?
He thought about texting you - but he quickly shut the thought down. He'd reserved texting for emergencies only, and he knew you were good at your job. There wasn't a moment of your life you hadn't spent around dogs, of course you would take perfect care of Riley.
"Honin' in, LT?" Soap's voice echoed through the coms as he took the seat opposite from Simon. He was relaxed, as if this was just another Friday for him - well, Simon supposed, it was.
"Always." Simon replied gruffly, focusing back on the mission at hand. He cleared his throat and flexed his fingers, trying to keep a cool composure.
"How's Riley doin'?" Soap asked. "Know I jus' seen 'er a few days ago, but- ye finally cave n' get someone to pet sit?"
Simon grunted. "'Course. Not gonna leave 'er alone that long, it'd be torture."
"Who'd ye get?"
"What's it to you?"
"Secret service? Ye snag one of the Royal Guards fer the job?"
"Jog on, Soap." Simon warned with a serious look, and Soap raised his hands in defense.
He couldn't tell Johnny about you. A fierce, possessive feeling in his chest told him not to. He knew Johnny had a thing for young, pretty things like you, and he refused to let you fall victim to his desires. In fact, he hated the thought of it.
But- who was he? Why was he being so protective over someone he barely knew? You were an adult, perfectly capable of making your own decisions. Why should Simon cockblock you and Johnny? So what if he wanted to shag you?
Mentally, he shook his head. No. Never. He'd lock you in his house if it meant keeping Jonny away from you. Even if Simon wasn't anything more than your client, he wasn't going to allow Johnny to get close to you. It would be too weird. You're his, after all.
...
Fuck.
He sighed and adjusted his position in his seat. You and Johnny didn't even know each other, for Christ's sake. He was overthinking all of this. You'd probably never even meet his team, why would you need to? You only ever have reason to spend time in his house, not on base. You just watch Riley, make breakfast in his kitchen, sleep on his couch, maybe his bed, if you're with the dog... using his bathroom, his shower...
He scowled at himself. Maybe hiring you was a huge mistake. You were too distracting.
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#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost#simon ghost riley#cod fanfiction#cod mw3#cod mw2#call of duty#cod#cod x reader
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i’m sorry i love you (ln4 + op81)
poly!landoscar x reader
summary: after being placed last in qualifying, oscar and his girlfriend comfort lando, but what happens when it’s revealed lando feels more deeply about the two of you than a friend should?
notes: !!CONTAINS SMUT MINORS DNI!! omg guys it’s my first ever poly!landoscar full length story
warnings: panic attack, threesome, p in v, oral (male receiving), sub!lando, dom!oscar, sub!reader
Lando practically throws his helmet into the arms of someone from his pit crew. He storms off, uncaring of any cameras that may be around to broadcast his tantrum.
He’d just finished qualifying, finished on pole position. He was going to start at the top of the grid, when the news had spread. The FIA had done checks on some of the cars, and his was against the rules. It was stupid, something that wasn’t in his control at all, yet he still had to find out in a public setting, just after he felt on top of the world.
Oscar’s car wasn’t pulled for the check, so he was still able to drive in his qualifying position tomorrow. He felt his frustration grow worse and worse the more he thought about it. This was just another chance for Oscar to show him up, to show everyone just how much better he was than Lando in his rookie year.
And yet, Lando couldn’t be mad at Oscar. He wanted nothing more than to hate the Aussie just a little, to feel some type of anger for him, but he couldn’t. Oscar was a good guy, he was nice, he was funny, he was great to be around when he finally opened up.
He was fine with this sudden fondness growing inside him for his teammate, he felt the same way about Carlos when they were teammates. Then he met you.
You were the adoring girlfriend to Oscar Piastri. Perfectly sweet, and equally beautiful. You had been nothing but nice to Lando. And there was his problem.
You and Oscar were perfect for each other. You brought him out of his shell, gave him more confidence. And he made sure to always keep a smile of your face. That was why he refused to do anything about the feelings that slowly grew in his chest for the both of you.
Lando knew that tomorrow would be hell for him. That he’d have to see Oscar do well, likely earning another podium finish, then see him scoop you up in his arms and show the whole world how much he loved you. All while Lando would have to attempt to climb back to the top of the grid just to get in the points.
He avoided anyone he could on the way back to the hotel, steering clear of reporters and McLaren workers. He drove his car back to the hotel, and strode through the lobby to the elevator with his hood pulled up over his head and dark sunglasses over his eyes.
He was able to shower, to try to scrape the shame from the day off himself before the knocking started. He figured he could just ignore it. Whoever was on the other side of the door would just assume no one was there and they’d leave. But whoever was on the other side of the door was persistent.
“Lando! We know you’re here!” The Australian accent called through the door.
Lando sighed, pulling himself up off his bed then dragged himself to the door to swing it open.
There you stood with Oscar next to you. Oscar was still in his McLaren team kit, and you were still in the same McLaren shirt you’d worn to the paddock. Neither of you had made it to your hotel room yet, too concerned with Lando’s disappearance.
“I’m not really in the mood guys-” He starts, but stops when you walk past him, entering his room.
“That was fucked. Telling you in front of all those cameras like that? What the hell?” You sit down on the bed.
Oscar gives Lando a sympathetic smile then follows you inside.
Lando was surprised by your colorful language and the anger you seemed to have for the FIA. He shrugs sitting down next to you.
“There’s nothing I can do about it.”
“Mate, if they had checked my car I’m sure we’d be in the same position.” Oscar says as he sits down at the desk across from the two of you.
“But they didn’t check your car. They checked mine. So now I’m P20, while you get to start on pole.” Lando snaps. He can feel you shrink at his sudden outburst. He sighs. “I’m sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”
His head falls to his hands as he takes a few deep breaths trying to regain his composure. He can feel your hand softly stroking up and down his back.
“You two don’t need to stay. You can go celebrate Oscar’s pole.” He says once he lifts his head back up.
His eyes are red, almost bloodshot, welling up with tears he’s refusing to let fall.
You wrap an arm through his and lace your hand with his. “We’re not leaving you alone right now Lan. We care too much about you.”
Lando groans. He stands up pulling himself away from you and takes a few steps away. He wants to put some distance between the three of you. He wants to make sure that he doesn’t let himself fall for the both of you even more than he already has.
“You can’t say shit like that.” His words are quiet.
“But it’s true.” You say standing up.
“Lando-” Oscar starts, standing up.
“Stop! Stop! You both need to stop!” Lando holds his hands out in front of him, backing away from the two of you. “I can’t-I can’t do this.” He whimpers leaning against the wall. He can feel the tear falling down his cheeks now. He quickly tries to wipe them away from his eyes.
He can feel his breathing start to pick up as his heart starts pounding in his chest. Everything is too much, too overwhelming. The qualifying results along with your insistence on comforting him has made him feel like he’s choking on nothing.
Oscar immediately clocks the panic coursing through his teammate. He slowly reaches out and pulls Lando back down to the bed. You stand up, giving him space as Oscar grabs a bottle of water from Lando’s fridge, uncapping it and handing it to him.
Lando slowly sips on the water, taking a few minutes to calm down. He closes the cap and places the bottle on the table next to the bed. When he finally looks back up at you and Oscar his eyes are filled with shame.
“I’m sorry…” He murmurs.
You sit down next to him again and wrap an arm over his shoulders. “You have nothing to apologize for Lan.” You tell him softly. “It’s okay.”
He shakes his head. “No, it’s not okay. I’m sorry I’m like this. I’m sorry you have to see me like this.”
“Mate, it’s fine, it’s okay.” Oscar says as he sits down on the other side of Lando.
Your arm slips from Lando’s shoulders as Oscar’s wraps around him, pulling his head to lean against his shoulder.
Lando finds comfort being sandwiched between the two of you. With Oscar’s arm around him and your hand now softly playing with his fingers he feels like he can finally breathe again.
“I’m sorry you guys have to help me with this, that I need you here with me…” Lando says, his voice slightly muffled in Oscar’s shoulder.
“What do you mean?” Oscar asks, looking down at him.
You hear Lando take a deep breath, lifting his head from Oscar’s shoulder, then looking back and forth between the two of you. He sits up and moves away from Oscar, pulling his hand away from yours as well.
“I’m sorry I feel the way I feel… I’m sorry I’m in love with you.” His last sentence comes out in a breath. He stands up from the bed again, trying to put some space between you. “Both of you. I’m really sorry. And I don’t want things to get awkward now, because you’re my teammate,” he gestures to Oscar “and you’re my teammate’s girlfriend,” then he gestures to you “so it’s impossible to avoid either of you after this.”
You sit on the bed silently, watching as Lando paces back and forth now, rambling about how nothing has to change, and he’ll be able to move on with time.
“We don’t want you to move on.” Oscar cuts him off.
Lando stops mid sentence. “What?” The sleeves on his hoodie fall past his hands as his fingers fidget. “What do you mean?”
“Lando,” you stand up, slowly walking towards him “we both have feelings for you too.”
“You do?”
Oscar nods. “It was weird at first, both of us admitting that we liked you to each other, but we felt like it was something we could work through. We didn’t want you to find out and get freaked about it.”
“Oh.” Lando still doesn’t look convinced as he shifts his weight on his feet.
You take a few slow steps until you’re standing in front of him, tilting his chin up so his eyes meet yours. “Can I kiss you Lando?”
He nods his head and breathes out an answer. “Yeah.”
You raise a hand to cup his face, tracing your thumb over his cheekbone. He leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed.
He’s almost surprised to feel your lips against his, like this was all some dream he’d made up in his head. You feel just the way he imagined, soft touches and slow intimate movements.
The hands that hold his waist do surprise him. He can tell they’re Oscar’s, the size alone makes it obvious, but he can feel them holding onto him firmly.
Oscar stands behind Lando, trailing kisses up and down the side of his neck.
Lando feels his heart pick up again, but this time for an entirely different reason. What once filled him with anxiety now sends a thrill through him. He’s excited to be with you, both of you.
He’s getting far too hot pressed between the two of you, pulling his lips away from yours to take a much needed breath.
“Should we move over to the bed? To get a little more comfortable?” Oscar asks as he softly sinks his teeth into Lando’s neck.
You pull Lando to the bed by his arm, and push him so he’s sitting down on the edge of it. Oscar sits down on his knees behind Lando, running a hand through his curls. You crawl onto Lando’s lap, straddling him as you tug at the bottom of his hoodie.
“Can I take this off?” You ask.
He’s quick to nod his head in response. You tug the hoodie up over his head and throw it to the side. His bare torso is revealed, the tanned skin on display. You reach out and run your hands down his chest, over the lines of his abs. He sighs, and leans his head back against Oscar’s shoulder.
“He’s so pretty Osc.” You say as you admire the boy under you.
“He is.” Oscar nods.
Lando blushes under your gaze, turning his head to look at Oscar. Oscar looks down at him with a smug smile on his face. He knew the affect he had on the British driver fairly early into their partnership, but finally getting to act on these pent up feelings was something new and exciting.
Oscar leans down to press a teasing kiss to corner of Lando’s mouth, smirking as Lando practically chases his lips as he pulls away.
“I think Y/n wants your attention.” Oscar nods to you.
When Lando turns back to look at you he can see that you’ve removed your McLaren shirt and bra and start to softly tug at the waistband of his sweatpants.
His hands reach out to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him as his lips attach themselves to your collarbone. His teeth leave little indents in your skin, red patches appear alongside other older marks left behind by Oscar.
You roll your hips against Lando’s as your head falls back from the pleasure. Lando whines against your chest, lifting his hips slightly to meet yours.
Oscar palms himself through his jeans as he watches you and Lando. It’s clear the two of you are starting to lose control, and he’s more than happy to take the reins.
“Is Lando making you feel good?” He asks you.
“Yes, so good.” You whimper.
“Then maybe you should make him feel good too.” He says.
You slide off of Lando’s lap, pulling his sweatpants down to his ankles. You tug your pants and underwear down and toss them to a corner of the room.
You knew that Lando was attractive, anyone with eyes would be able to see that, but you didn’t think that his cock could be just as pretty.
It’s not as long as Oscar’s, but it’s thicker, the girth alone makes a wave of arousal travel down your core. You wrap your hand around it, and softly stroke it up and down.
Lando lets out a soft groan, letting his eyes flutter closed. You climb back onto Lando’s lap, continuing to stroke him slowly as Oscar tilts Lando’s head back to him. He leans down and kisses the Brit, smirking into the kiss as Lando moans against his lips. Oscar’s hair hangs down as he kisses Lando, slightly blocking their eyes, brushing against Lando’s face.
You grind yourself against Lando’s thighs, desperate for more attention as you watch the two boys kiss.
“Can I ride you Lan?” You ask as your hand slows down against him.
Oscar pulls himself away from Lando and nods in your direction.
“Do you want her to ride you?”
“Please.” Lando whimpers.
His whines quickly turn into moans as you slowly sink yourself down on him.
He feels different than Oscar, his thick cock stretches you wider than Oscar’s has as you struggle to take all of him.
Lando struggles to hold himself back from thrusting up into you, wanting nothing more than to buried completely inside you. You’re warm and soft, and wrapped so tightly around him that he swears this is what heaven feels like.
You’re finally able to sit completely on Lando after a few minutes of rocking back and forth on him. You take a second to catch your breath before slowly grinding down further on him.
Lando can’t pull his eyes away from you until he hears the metal from Oscar’s belt clink around.
He turns to see Oscar watching him with a smirk. “She feels good, doesn’t she?”
Lando can only nod his head, his eyes squeeze shut when you start to slowly lift your hips up then sink back down onto him.
Oscar pulls his pants down, then tugs his boxers down as well. He wraps his hand around his cock, slowly pumping it. His other hand tangles itself in Lando’s hair and gives it a sharp tug backwards.
Lando huffs out a breath as he stares up at Oscar, his eyes now a bit glassy from the pleasure he feels from you. His eyes drop down to Oscar’s cock, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.
“Want a taste?” Oscar asks.
Lando leans towards him and licks a stripe up the underside of his cock, letting his tongue brush against the head and collect his precum.
Oscar sucks in a sharp breath as Lando’s tongue licks around the head. His grip in Lando’s curls gets tighter as he pushes his head closer to his cock.
Lando takes the tip into his mouth, softly sucking and swirling his tongue around it. Oscar can feel vibrations come from the occasional moan from Lando as you start to ride him faster.
The room is filled with a mix of sounds coming from the three of you. Your slick as you ride Lando, bouncing up and down on his cock, Lando gagging as he tries to take more of Oscar down his throat. And none of you are being particularly quiet. Your moans mixed with Lando’s muffled moans, and Oscar’s deep groans bounce off the walls. God help whoever had the room next door to Lando’s.
Oscar is the first to cum. How can he not when Lando looks up at him with big doe eyes as he hollows his cheeks around his cock. Lando can feel Oscar’s release shoot down his throat, the warm salty cum coming out in spurts as Oscar has his head thrown back, thrusting himself into Lando’s mouth.
You can’t help but clench around Lando at the sight. You’ve given Oscar head before, but you don’t know if it’s ever actually felt as good as what Lando had done.
Oscar’s chest heaves slightly as he pulls himself from Lando’s mouth. A string of saliva connects Lando’s lips to Oscar’s cock. Oscar gives him a lazy smile.
“Why don’t you help Y/n cum just like you helped me? Play with her.” He instructs Lando.
Lando doesn’t hesitate to move his hands to your body, playing with your tits, pinching your nipples. One of his hands finds it’s way down to where you two connect, and softly rubs at the little bundle of nerves.
You yelp and lift yourself higher on his cock before dropping down again. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire, the muscles getting sore from the constant movement. Lando presses his fingers against your clit again, now much more sure of himself than before.
Tears begin to form in your eyes as you struggle to keep your pace. Lando begins to thrust up into you to help keep the rhythm you’ve set. His arms flex as they hold himself up on the bed. Yours wrap around his neck as you bury your face in his shoulder.
“I’m gonna cum Lando.” You whimper as he presses harder against your clit.
He feels you clench around him one last time before you cum. You moan out both his and Oscar’s name as you cum, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.
Your release triggers Lando’s as he shoots his cum deep inside of you. He hold you down onto his cock as he continues to thrust up into you, pushing his cum as far as he can in you.
You slowly peel yourself off of Lando, whining at the empty feeling between your legs. You glance over at the two boys now laying down on the bed. Both are covered in a light sheen of sweat. Oscar has now pulled his shirt off as he lays back, softly stroking Lando’s hair.
You lay down on Lando’s other side, resting your head on his chest.
“That was… wow.” He says, his voice a little gruff. “Is it like that every time?”
“We don’t have threesomes Lan.” You softly giggle. “We only sleep with people we love.” You press a soft kiss to his flushed chest.
“So you better get used to it, because now you’re stuck with us.” Oscar tells him as he buries his face in Lando’s neck.
You and Oscar let sleep wash over you, wrapped up around the British driver, who just smiles to himself pulling the two of you closer to him.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that I loved you sooner.” He whispers into the darkness.
#lando norris x reader#lando norris smut#oscar piastri x reader#oscar piastri smut#poly landoscar x reader#formula one x reader#ln4#op81
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omg it's 3 am D:
#i overshare so much on social mediaaa#i think i'm gna work on that. yh i wna express it in a better way#idk exactly why but tonight i feel rather at peace#like i'm stressed still abt a lot of things but i think today marks as me feeling more like myself again#but it's still like. stuck in the middle end or smth#do i work on being better or do i just let myself be#wld it be odd w my friends if i have a sudden shift in mood after being distant lately#before all that though. i should prioritize health#^ then i'll balance the aforementioned w school.#i'll just do what i can in a given moment! even if i cld always do better then#what i can at least do is be kind to myself about it.#yeah... meaning i will sleep rn bcs it's nearly 3:30 n oh my god I'M SORRY APOLLO I LOST TRACK OF TIMEEE#edit / i went to sleep with a clearer mind n a calmer heart n i don't feel quite as tired as usual this morning#other than the fact that i lack energy to really make a sort of change for myself#i guess one toxic trait of mine is that i'm tired enough that i'm curious to see how i'd be like if#i destroy myself even further#in fiction maybe i cld have fun w the pain of writing characters like that but#not irl omg i shouldn't be doing this ;;; but i guess boredom and frustration makes me uhh . yeah#i think the pressure of everything's just breaking me.#but when it comes to stuff like success and rest it's hard to be kind to myself.#aaaa i'm too busy n overwhelmed;;
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CW: mention of surgery and family member’s death
ao3
Eddie’s not paying attention to where he’s walking when he bumps into someone coming out of a coffee shop.
“Oh,” Eddie steps back and opens his mouth to apologize, when he looks up to see who he’d crashed into.
“You ok?” The man asks.
Eddie tries to respond, wants to respond, opens his mouth to respond but the quirk in the man’s smile is taunting him. It’s connected to a face that could make a man weak in the knees, in fact it’s doing just that right now.
“Ya good?” The man asks again this time putting his hand cautiously on Eddie’s shoulder. Eddie can’t do anything but nod. “Alright, watch where you’re going, ok?”
There’s no frustration in his tone, no heat behind his words but Eddie feels like he should definitely do what he’s asking. Before Eddie can actually say anything the guy is walking away down the sidewalk in the opposite direction than Eddie needs to go.
Without thinking, Eddie turns on his heels and follows the man. He’s never done anything like this before in fact he doesn’t know why he’s doing it now, but something is pushing him to follow. He watches the soft bounce of hair on the man’s gorgeous head weave through the crowd but then suddenly disappear.
Eddie blinks a couple of times thinking his eyes have stopped working. He ducks around a few people trying to catch sight of the man but can’t find him anywhere. Maybe he’s losing his mind.
Eddie stops and puts his hands on his hips, swiveling around trying to find the guy. Where could he have gone?
Someone crashes into his back then yells at him for standing in the middle of the sidewalk, reminding him he’s going to be late for lunch with Chrissy.
He apologizes to the guy for standing, only partially sarcastically, then heads back in his original direction towards the diner he’s meeting his best friend at.
“Who was he?” Chrissy asks around a fry.
“No clue, but it was like I had to follow him. I’ve never seen him before.”
“Was he hot?” She cocks her head like she’s figured him out.
“Uh, he- I, yes, but that wasn’t why I followed him.”
“Uh huh, and getting his number isn’t a motivator at all.” She rolls her eyes and tosses her balled up straw wrapper at his head.
“Hey,” Eddie swats her trash away. “I’m serious. That wasn’t it. I don’t know, it was something else.”
Chrissy inspects him from across the table. She knows him better than he knows himself, and she knows he wouldn’t follow some random guy without a reasonable excuse.
“Did he look like someone? Remind you of anyone, maybe?”
“I don’t think so, but- maybe?” He shrugs and wishes he could put his finger on it.
He’s spent the last 30 minutes trying to figure it out but coming up blank. He can’t stop thinking about the man’s gorgeous hazel eyes glinting back at him.
Eddie slings his backpack over his shoulder and shuffles his way off the train. He’s lost in thought, like he’s been for the last several days since running into that coffee guy, and doesn’t clock the group of teenagers rushing towards the doors. They part around him, but one of them bumps into his backpack spinning him around and he stops moving just as they’re ushered into the train. The man reprimanding their behavior is standing just inside the door when Eddie realizes it’s the guy. THE guy. But before his brain sends a signal to his feet, the train door is closing and Eddie stands gawking instead.
When the train starts moving slowly, Eddie’s brain jump starts and he’s rushing toward the train. He can see the guy standing near the window so he starts waving his hands trying to get his attention. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if the guy happens to notice him, but he’s feeling a compulsive need to try.
The train starts speeding up and he still hasn’t noticed Eddie.
“Shit, excuse me. Excuse me! Sorry, shit, sorry!” He weaves around other passengers and races along the train continuing to wave his hands.
He runs out of platform a few feet later and just as he drops his arms he thinks he sees a flash of those hazel eyes peering through the glass. He’s panting hard, his side twinging slightly, when he runs his hand through his hair. That was the most physical activity he’s gotten in awhile, and that’s kind of embarrassing.
When he turns around he realizes he’s almost alone on the platform. Which also means he’s going to be late to work.
“You saw him again? On the train?” Chrissy is munching on half of a banana nut muffin.
“No, yes, but I wasn’t on the train. I was getting off and he got on.”
“He didn’t see you?”
“No, I tried, too. I ran along the side of the train trying to get his attention.” Eddie swivels back and forth in his desk chair while chewing on his thumbnail.
“Ran? You, ran? Next to the train?”
“Yeah, I know.” He sighs and rolls his eyes slightly.
“What were you expecting to do if he did see you?”
“I hadn’t thought that far,” which was true.
“So then he sees you and what? Were you just going to wave? Stand there like a goober and wiggle your fingers at him? I mean, Eddie, you gotta think these things through.”
She has a point but she should know he’s more of an act first think about it later kinda guy. Plus, who knows maybe the guy has been thinking about Eddie just as much has he has. Maybe he would see Eddie and know exactly what to do. It’s possible. Not likely, but possible.
“No?” He lies because that’s exactly what he would’ve done.
“You’re pathetic. You gotta stop obsessing about this dude. You interacted with him for approximately 15 seconds.”
“I knoooooooww,” Eddie whines. “But I can’t explain it, Chris. Ugh. Do you think he’s someone I went to school with? Maybe elementary school so he looks different but there’s something that seems familiar?”
“Why are you asking me? I have no idea. I think you should ask your penis.” She tilts her head causing her ponytail to swish slightly.
“What!?” Eddie squeaks.
“Come on, you’re attracted to him, and I think little Eddie is driving this ridiculous obsession. That’s it.” She tosses her muffin wrapper in the trash can and slaps her palms on top of Eddie’s desk. “You’re getting laid. This weekend we’re going out and I don’t want to hear it.”
“I can’t get out of this can I?” He loves this woman, but he kinda wanted to stay home this weekend and get his one shot campaign finished.
“Nope,” she says with a giggle.
“What about him?” Chrissy yells into Eddie’s ear while stealthily pointing across the bar.
Eddie turns to see where she’s pointing and she’s got to be kidding. “Do you know me at all? No.” He sighs and turns back to his beer.
“Come oooon, you’re not even trying. Ooh what about him?”
Eddie takes a quick glance before shaking his head. “I think this place is a dud tonight.”
“You’re just picky.” She swirls her drink aimlessly looking around the room.
The place is pretty packed for a Friday night, but they were able to grab a couple stools at the bar top, which Eddie is grateful for. Chrissy is spun around facing outward. Her foot is bouncing to the beat of the music playing overhead. She’s all dolled up, on the hunt herself but making sure to keep an eye out for Eddie.
“Ooh,” she gasps and Eddie tries to see what she’s looking at. “She’s pretty.”
“Where?”
“Over there, near the pole.”
Eddie cranes his neck and sees a taller woman with a short bob, wearing an oversized blazer, sleeves shoved to her elbows, and laughing at someone standing behind the pole.
“You should go talk to her.” Eddie nudges her foot.
“You think?” Chrissy keeps her eyes pointed on the woman. “Oh, she’s…hmm,” Chrissy bites her bottom lip and smiles shyly. “She looked at me. She did it again. Oh.”
Eddie hides a laugh behind his drink and risks a glance across the bar. He catches the woman nervously glancing at Chrissy and immediately thinks they’re a match made in heaven.
“Go, I’ll be fine.” Eddie nudges her again. “I’m gonna go smoke anyway.”
“Ok, be safe out there.”
She hates that he has to go out back to smoke. It’s a creepy alley behind a gay bar. The worst he’s ever run into back there are a few rushed blowjobs and some handies. People usually leave him alone, though. He doesn’t really give off a friendly vibe.
Eddie finishes off his beer and slides off his stool with a stretch of his arms.
“Good luck, Cunningham. Go get yourself a lesbian.” He shakes her shoulder gently and heads toward the back door.
He takes a deep breath when the night air hits him. It feels good after spending time in the stuffy bar. He shuffles his way down from the door, and finds a spot against the brick wall. He then pulls out his crinkled pack of Camels, plucks a cigarette out, and slots it between his lips.
While holding his lighter to the tip of his cigarette, the back door slides open and he turns to watch someone walk out.
Oh my god
It’s him
Eddie’s cigarette falls from his lips as his mouth gapes open. He’s moving on instinct towards the man he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about for the past seven days. The man sees Eddie approaching and he gives him a nervous smile. Eddie realizes he doesn’t recognize him. That fact stings more than it should.
“You,” Eddie says with a shakey breath.
“Um, you ok, man?”
“Who are you?” Eddie scans over the man’s face trying to piece it together.
He sees two perfectly placed moles on the man’s cheek and two more along his neck. Nothing that is triggering a memory though.
“Uh, Steve? Do I know you?”
Eddie ducks his head and starts looking over other parts of the man’s body. More moles line the man’s arms and his exposed shoulders from under his tank top. Eddie’s eyes catch on a tattoo on the man’s pec through the gap in his shirt.
“What’s-what’s that? " Eddie cocks his head. "That date?”
The man, Steve, looks down noticing Eddie seeing the tattoo.
“It’s the day I was saved.”
“What?” Eddie’s eyes flick up to Steve’s before dropping back to the tattoo.
It’s the day Eddie’s mom died.
“I had a heart transplant.”
Eddie’s hands drop to his sides and his face slowly relaxes as he starts to wonder if it’s possible.
“Do you- uh, do you know who…? Who your donor was?”
Steve furrows his brows and cocks his head. “Uh, yeah?”
“Who? Who was it? I-I lost my mom that day.” Steve’s face softens and Eddie watches as the man looks him over.
“Elizabeth-“
“Munson?” Steve nods and Eddie gasps covering his mouth with his hand in shock. “Oh my god.”
“She saved my life.”
Tears well in Eddie’s eyes as he reaches his fingers toward Steve. He asks for silent permission to touch and Steve nods. Eddie huffs a heavy breath as he presses his hand to Steve’s chest. He lets his fingers spread out, pushing his palm against him. Before Eddie can take a deep breath he feels the pound of Steve’s heartbeat against his hand.
His mom’s heartbeat.
Eddie looks up with a wet chuckle and sees matching tears in Steve’s eyes.
“I wasn’t going to make it. I was on my last leg and then suddenly there was a viable heart.” Steve places his hands over Eddie’s and stares into his eyes. “Thank you.”
Eddie nods and swallows back the sob he wants to release. Steve runs his thumb comfortingly across Eddie’s knuckles and gives him a sad smile.
“I knew there was something.” Eddie shakes his head. “Since I saw you last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
“Last week?” Steve furrows his brows and then widens his eyes in realization. “The coffee shop. You bumped into me.” He smiles at Eddie fondly.
“Yeah,” Eddie says a little embarrassed. “Then again at the train station. You were with some kids.”
“That was you. I thought I saw you but wasn’t sure.”
“I might’ve chased the train a little.” Eddie shrugs.
“Chased the train? For me?”
“A little.” Eddie’s hand is still pressed against Steve’s chest so he can feel when the man’s pulse kicks up.
“And now you’re here. Somehow. It’s like the universe wanted us to meet.” Steve bites his bottom lip and Eddie suddenly wants to bite it too.
Now that he knows why he felt so pulled toward Steve, he can actually look at the man. It’s like a fog is lifted and he can see Steve in all his beautiful glory.
“Yeah,” Eddie whispers.
“Do you wanna get a drink? With me?” Steve asks nervously, and if he could read Eddie’s mind he wouldn’t be so nervous.
“Yes,” he nods quickly. “I’d love to.”
Steve keeps his grip on Eddie’s hand and laces their fingers together before pulling them toward the door.
“I’m here with my friend Robin, but she is getting hit on by the cutest little blonde, so she won’t bother us.”
“My friend Chrissy is a cute little blonde. Wouldn’t that be funny?”
coffee? ☕️🍩💕
#I made myself cry#inspired by an episode of Monk I watched last night#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddiecameraroll posts#steddie ficlet#steddie fics
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𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝟐
f!reader x PT!Jamie (modern au) 1.5k words
summary: reader has a bad gym experience and jamie gets protective
cw: working out, mention of potential injury, mentions of sexual harrassment (ass grabbing)
sidenote, that I've seen a lot of this behaviour in the gym before and it makes me sick. writing about it and imagining how jamie would handle it makes me less sick. imagining big strong pt!james making the world better, one set of keys at a time. please, always be aware of your surroundings if you are working out at the gym, especially alone <3
James pulls you out from under the bar of the smith machine by the hips seconds before it clatters to the ground with a sickening thud and clang of metal. You stumble under his harsh hands, land on the ground at his feet and let out a pained whoosh of breath. Luckily, the gym is empty save for the two of you, sparing you the embarrassment of having people watch the commotion.
He's on you in an instant, gentle hands that cradle your neck as he crouches in front of you and pushes your head from side to side with a little pressure from his thumbs. All you can do is blink, try to process what, exactly, just happened. "You're not sore here?" James asks you, brows furrowed and almost touching in the middle, his fingers pressing into the base of your neck.
Your first thought is that James doesn't suit frowning. A silly thought, considering you almost decapitated yourself with a one hundred kilogram squat rack. "No. Just my ass from crash landing." You don't fail to notice the way your voice sounds distant, detached.
James' hands are warm on your neck, a burning touch that you want to lean into. You don't, and it's gone as James collapses down across from you, his elbows resting against his knees. His face turns stern, "What's going on?"
You feel like you're being scolded, and maybe you should be. It's a well known fact that form is everything, that being distracted in the gym can lead to serious injuries. You'd known you wouldn't be able to focus today, you'd known you should've stopped that set and corrected yourself when you could feel the weight more in your back than your legs. But, you hadn't. You're distracted, you're angry. You'd walked into the gym full of frustration and it'd almost ended terribly.
Tears fight their way to your eyes and they burn. You feel a lump forming in your throat that forces you to look away from James. Kind, patient James, who allows you the moment to collect yourself as you pull your legs to your chest. "Shitty week." It comes out mumbled, your voice defeated.
James nods understandingly. "A shitty week doesn't make you lose focus like that, though. There's something more to it."
It's not like James to push. He's friendly and he's kind, he can be a menace when he wants to be, and sometimes you even think he's flirting with you - but he never pushes. You want to open up, you want to step out of that weird area of professionalism you can never seem to get past with him. But unloading your shitty week on him doesn't feel like the way to do that. So you shrug, pulling your knees to your chest until your chin rests atop them, "I'm just stressed. I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I knew my form was wrong but I was too distracted to stop and fix it."
"I don't care that your form was wrong," James shakes his head as though offended you'd think such a thing, "I mean," He pauses, searching for the words, "Obviously, I care that it was wrong because you almost got hurt. But what I mean is that you should've told me you were stressed, that you were feeling a bit distracted."
You find yourself nodding, eyes downcast at your crossed ankles.
"I was waiting for you to correct the form yourself. If I knew you were distracted, I'd have told you to stop. I'm sorry, too." James' voice has turned soft, less stern. He nudges his foot until it's in your line of vision, tapping it against yours until you're looking up.
He's waiting with a smile, his eyes gentle and patient. It feels odd. New, foreign. You can't really describe the feeling. "A guy grabbed my ass in the gym, yesterday." You breathe out, unsure really of what it is that's made you tell him.
It could be that you trust him. It's hard not to build trust with someone in James' position, it's literally his job to stop things like one hundred kilogram bar bells falling on top of you. Or, it could be that not telling anyone, reliving how powerless you'd felt, going over everything you could've done differently, it's eating you alive. Sharing this with James, who sees every day what gyms are like, how people in some gyms behave, you have a feeling that he'll get it. That he'll help you process.
But, he doesn't say anything. Just stares with a look that you can't read. The muscles in his arms shift, his hands clenching around each other tightly, and his jaw clenches. You think he might not say anything, though, you know James is better than that. The silence stretches until the tears in your eyes abate, then James finally croaks, "He what?"
Your veins crackle with the anger in his voice, the darkness that clouds his eyes. You'd never have imagined James in such a light if he wasn't sitting right in front of you, the very picture of livid. You shrug, as though feigning nonchalance might abate the white hot anger you know very well the feeling of. "I was doing those stupid kick back thingies you're always on about. Just messing about as a cool down, trying to correct my own form. He came over and started giving me advice, which I thought was just him being nice."
James shakes his head, remorse like a white sheet of dread across his beautiful face. You swallow, picking at a hangnail on your thumb, "He kind of just," You shift your hands as though grabbing your own hips, "Grabbed me like that and my throat went dry. When he was leaving he grabbed my ass and said 'you're welcome'."
"You didn't report him to the gym staff?"
You shake your head, lip trapped between your teeth. "I wasn't even planning on telling you until I nearly killed myself with the smith machine."
James sighs, one of his hands coming up to rub at his face. He looks nauseous, almost. "I'll get you a set of keys for this gym. You can work out here, from now on. No one will bother you."
It's a nice offer. It makes your heart swell and your cheeks heat. James has always gone above and beyond. He fits you into his schedule despite your crazy work hours and never charges you for the session if you have to cancel day of. But the reason you don't have a membership at his gym is because it's not in your price range. So you smile, kind, if a little tight lipped, "James, you know I can't."
"I'm not saying get a membership. I'm saying I'll get you a set of keys. You can come and go as you please, even after work, whatever time you want." His voice is thick, his eyes earnest and almost pleading.
"I can't ask you to do that."
James scoots closer, fingers flexing as though he might reach out for you, but is stopping himself. He chases your gaze, waits until he has it, until your lips part under the weight of it and your heart hammers against your chest, to speak. "You're not asking. I'm offering. I can't believe that happened to you and it makes me so angry. I'm not going to sit by and do nothing about it."
You sigh, unwilling to argue when James sounds so passionate, so sure of himself. A smile makes its way to your lips, timid, unsure, "Thanks, Jamie."
He nods. "Any time."
"Are you sure the owner won't mind?" You ask.
James grins, some of the mischievous twinkle returning to his eyes, "He's my best mate, it'll be fine."
He offers you a hand as he stands, the storm clouds passing and the weight already lifting from your chest. It feels brighter, in the gym. You take James' hand, let him pull you up. He does his signature move of tugging you until you're stumbling towards him, his laugh echoing off of the concrete walls when you curse him out for it.
"Start from the beginning?" James asks, moving to return the smith machine to where you need it to be.
You take a breath, watch the way his shoulder muscles strain against his top as he bends and lifts. It brings a smile to your lips, the feeling of familiarity you hadn't felt upon entering the gym earlier. "I believe I was at five reps when I dropped the bar."
James tsks, "Dropping it doesn't count as a rep. Call it four."
"Cruel."
James only winks, offers you his award winning smile as you settle yourself under the bar. This time, with the correct form. He nods, and you twist to unlock, eyes on his in the mirror.
"That's one." He grins, crossing his arms over his chest.
You consider dropping the bar on his head, next.
#james potter#james potter fic#james potter imagine#james potter oneshot#james potter x reader#james potter x f!reader#james potter fluff#james potter angst#marauders#marauders era#marauders fic#marauders imagine#sirius black#remus lupin#fourmoony#angst#love#fluff#smut#pt!jamie#pt!james potter#pt!james
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When He Thinks You’re Gone
Jungkook x Reader
Summary: When You and Jk have a fight before he has to leave for promotions, he wants to
assume that you can fix things when he returns. But what if your things are gone when he gets
back?
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Angst, Mentions of reader being sick(nothing detailed tho)
A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!
Masterlist
Requests are open
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The final words he’d spoken to you last night kept rolling around in his head as he stared out the
plane window, waiting for take off, guilt blooming heavily in his gut.
Fighting with you before having to leave for a week was not how he’d wanted your last night to
go at all. He couldn’t even understand how things had escalated so suddenly; one minute you
were telling him about your frustrations about him being gone so much recently, the next both of
you were yelling and saying things you didn’t mean and he was storming off to the bathroom.
He knew he shouldn’t have lost his temper the way he had, he was just stressed with the
comeback and frustrated, feeling like he wasn’t doing enough, and your words had been the
badly timed final straw.
By the time he’d returned to the bedroom, you were already asleep, or at least pretending to be,
he didn’t check, laying down facing away from you and falling asleep without a word.
The next morning, he’d left early before you’d even woke up, choosing not to risk pushing things
further on the way out.
Shaking his head at himself, he fished his phone out of his pocket, sending you a short text.
“I’m sorry about last night, we’ll talk when I get back. See you next week, I love you.”
Sighing, he sat back in his seat, not feeling any better.
Over the next few days, his sense of unease over the incident continued to grow, his only
contact from you coming in the form of flat, often single worded texts. He knew you were still
upset with him, and he couldn’t blame you, but he knew the two of you could sort everything out
when he got home. Just a few more hours to go…
It was quiet as he entered the apartment, most of the lights off other than a few lamps.
“Y/n?” He called gently as he sat his things down, Bam appearing from down the hall and
bounding over happily to greet him
“Heya, buddy.” He said softly, kneeling to give the dog a few pats and scratches, still glancing
around for any sign of you. “Where’s your other parent, huh?”
When he straightened back up, he headed for your shared bedroom, thinking that since it was
kinda late, maybe you were already in bed. As he pushed the door open though, he felt his stomach drop as he scanned the space, finding no sign of you and realizing that your things
were also no longer there.
Your charger on the nightstand, your clothes, even the fluffy throw blanket that you kept on your
side of the bed were all missing.
“Well if that’s how you feel, then maybe you should just stay at your own place!”
The words echoed mockingly in his head as he stared around the suddenly sparse looking
room. You wouldn’t have actually taken his stupid suggestion, would you? Without saying a
word?
“Y/n?!” He called again, voice shaking.
“What?” His head whipped around at the muffled reply from the guest room across the hall.
Bolting across the landing, he pushed open the door to reveal a very tired looking you, curled
into a ball in the bed, blinking back at the sudden light.
“Y/n! Oh thank god, I was so scared!” He moved forward, but you quickly raised a hand up to
stop him.
“Stay away!”
“What?!” He froze, staring at you in confusion.
“I’m sick, the flu or something, and I don't want you to catch it, so please just stay away.” You
croaked, pulling your shirt over the lower half of your face as a makeshift mask.
“I don’t care about the stupid flu!” He said, trying step closer, but you backed further across the
bed. “Hold on.”
He ducked out of the room, coming back in less than a minute with a mask now covering his
own face. “See? Now can I come closer?”
Reluctantly, you shrugged, which he took as an okay, coming over and carefully sitting down
next you as he took in your appearance. You were pale, your eyes tired and heavy with dark
circles under them, you looked like you hadn’t been eating well either.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked softly, feeling your forehead to check your
temperature.
“You were busy.” You said stuffily, avoiding his eyes.
He frowned, not missing the lingering meaning behind your words, before getting up to make
you some tea.
As he made his way to the kitchen, he noticed that the rest of the apartment seemed to be well
looked after, despite your slightly fragile state, including Bam who was curled up next to you on the bed when Jungkook returned.
“Have you been the one taking him out for walks?” He asked, not able to imagine you keeping
the massive dog reigned in in your current state.
You shook your head. “I called your usual service.”
He nodded. “I’m sorry.” He said suddenly.
“For what?”
“Everything. For saying what I said last week, for not being here when you needed me. Just,
everything.”
You dropped your gaze. “I should be the one apologizing, I was being stubborn.”
“I still shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He said.
You held your pinkie out. “Truce?”
He chuckled, having almost forgotten your old solution to arguments when you’d first started
dating.
“Truce.” He hooked his finger with yours, holding it for a moment before tugging you forward into
a hug.
“I love you.” He mumbled against your hair.
“I love you too.”
For a few minutes, neither of you moved, until he insisted on moving your things back to his
room so he could look after you, helping you get a shower before ordering you both some food.
The whole evening, his eyes never left you for more than a minute, seeming thoughtful but not
saying what about until you were tucked back into the bed next to him, on the verge of sleep.
“Move in with me.”
Your eyes flew open as you looked up at him. “Excuse me?”
“I’m serious, I hate the whole back and forth from your place to mine.” His eyes never left yours,
fingers traced patterns over your arm as he spoke. “Coming home and not being able to find
you was one of the worst things I’ve ever felt, I don’t wanna experience that ever again.
"So, please, move in with me?” He asked, pressing a small kiss to your hand.
“Okay.” You whispered, swallowing back tears at his sweet words.
“Thank you.” He smiled, pulling you close again, both of you quickly falling asleep in each others
embrace.
#jungkook reaction#jungkook imagine#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabble#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook oneshot#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x reader#bts one shot#bts scenarios#bts x y/n#bts x reader#bts angst#bts drabble#bts requests#bts fluff#bts fanfic#7ndipity
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