#not saying he'd give up the top pick but he wouldn't set her up with anything less than safe and decent

[thoumpingground]

So when Darcy went to fix the Lydia/Wickham situation, he first tried to get Lydia to return home, only bribing Wickham into marrying her when she wouldn't. This is sensible by modern standards, but we know from everyone else's reactions Lydia *failing* marrying Wickham would bring the Bennet family shame. Darcy knows this, and doubt he planned to leave the situation as is. So how did he originally plan to fix it?

I think Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy was gonna channel his inner Emma Woodhouse (didn't have to dig far, they're very similar people) and play matchmaker. In my headcannon Darcy checked his "Possible Husbands for Georgie" list against his "People who owe me Gargantuan favours" list and offer whoever came up money to marry Lydia.

Now, he would want to spare the Bennets of as much of the scandal as possible, and wouldn't want to take the merit in front of Lizzie, so all would most likely happen discreetly through Mr. Gardiner, while Lydia was in London, and she would move to her husbands immediatly after.

However, I wanna propose a different scenario: Lydia returns to Meryton. Scandal ensues, the Bennets are disgraced. Then, within two weeks, a random well-off man shows up intent on courting Lydia and *only* Lydia. He heeds nobodys warnings and gives no explanations. Lydia loves it. Every other mum in Meryton is furious. The Bennets are confused and paranoid. Imagine the drama. The intrige. The million questions still unawnsered long after Lydia eventually gets married and leaves. Bingley marries Jane (cause of course Darcy still told him he'd been wrong to pull them apart, and Bingley would) and Darcy's still somewhat around. Maybe him and Lizzie get together, maybe not, but every time the topic comes up he gets all sheepish and awkward and she gets suspicious and it's a thing. It's their new dynamic.

#picture a binder for “people who owe me Gatgantuan favours” #and like a few pages for “Possible husbands for Georgie” in a folder #“why would Darcy waste a good man on (ugh) Lydia?” i fear someone might ask?“ #because Darcy's a good considerate person. he was trying to save her for a bad marriage in the first place. #not saying he'd give up the top pick but he wouldn't set her up with anything less than safe and decent #also as annoying as Lydia is she doesn't deserve abuse. Austen makes a point of telling us even with Wickham she's got her family's support. #also also the top pick is probably Charles and he's taken so #jane austen #mr darcy #lydia bennet #mr. gardiner #lizzie bennet #decent guy. #pride and prejudice #classic literature

[gglitch1dd]

Glitch, I have a few things to say.. I am COMPLETELY OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING! *most especially, DILF Izu!

And major question, Is Inko still alive in the Cheating DILF Izuku universe? If so, Would she be able to figure out what the Number 1 couples' situation is?? Maybe she would start noticing the signs? Am seriously such a sucker for how you write angst! Hope you're in good health always ♡

Cheating Dilf Izuku Pt2.5

[Cheating Dilf Izuku Masterlist]

Inko is still alive!!

It's just that after the funeral and everything, Izuku and reader were rather hesitant to accept her help because they didn't want to not be able to do it on their own (they couldn't). And Inko does see it and notices it.

Inko and her son are very close but so is Reader and Inko too. She notices that the couple stops talking about one another, she notices that the boys seem rather on edge and she notices that you both look drained. She notices and she really does want to to do something.

"Okaasan, I have no idea what you're talking about." Izuku stated as he held his phone to his ear as he organised the laundry as he sat on the floor in the laundry room.

"Izuku, I'm smarter than you give me credit for. I know something's wrong." She said gently but still stern. "All I'm saying is, you can bring the boys to me and I can take care of them for a week. You and Y/N can go and spend some time together. Like you used to."

Izuku paused as he held a pair of mismatched socks. His mother wasn't entirely wrong. You and him did use to go on little mini vacations together. Usually not spanning more than a weekend every six or so months where you would just spend time as a couple. It was something you both always looked forward to, despite loving your boys to bits.

Often than not there was a resort in Okinawa that the both of you loved to go to, just the two of you. But it had bene just more than a year since you last went, especially since you were both supposed to go five months ago but Lord knows that didn't happen.

Izuku sighed as he set down the socks he had in his hands. "I don't know. Okaasan." He let out with a sigh. "Y/N and I... we just... I don't think she'd want to go."

"Stuff and nonsense, Izu. Why wouldn't she? I know how much she knows you adore her."

That was painful. Izuku bit back a grimace as he sighed. He leaned back, surrounded by laundry baskets that were labeled for each boy. He looked over to one that stayed filed up at the top away from sight. A label on it that read a single name. Shoyo.

"Okaasan..." He whispered as he looked up at the basket. "I really messed up." He said quietly. "I... I don't think things will ever be the same."

Inko was silent for a moment before a small sigh left her mouth. "Izuku, I won't lie to you and say that you're wrong. You're right. It won't ever be the same. Losing a child is an unbearable sort of pain that hurts more than anything imaginable." Izuku closed his eyes not wanting to think about it. "And I wish I could say that it doesn't change things. It does. However, we can only pick up the pieces and try to make life a little bit better. Talk about this to her and see what she says. I think it would be good for the both of you if you got away for a while."

Izuku was silent for a moment as he thought about it. He let out a sigh as he leaned back for a moment. There was no harm in asking and the worst you could say was no...

Actually he was wrong. The worst you could say would probably make him feel like a damn fool and no would be the best thing you could say.

But if he wanted to win his wife back... He'd have to try everything he had until his last breath.

He sighed. "Fine. Fine, I'll talk to her."

He heard some giggles on the otherside of the line before a happy laugh. "Izu you won't regret it! I can't wait to see my grandbabies again!"

Izuku raised an eyebrow as he put the socks in the washing machine like he was doing previously. "Is this you trying to help my marriage or you having an excuse to see the boys?"

"... both." He could hear her smile and it made him laugh.

After finishing with the laundry, Izuku mustered up the courage to walk into your bedroom. You were laying in bed with your laptop in front of you while Koda took a nap beside you. The little four year old held onto your arm in his sleep as you typed away on your laptop. A bunny sitting at the foot of your bed.

Izuku closed the door behind him as he kept himself a good distance away from you, not wanting to overstep. "Y/N."

"Hm?" You didn't look up at him as you kept busy at whatever you were doing. Before, you used to always pause and listen to whatever he had to say. But then again, that was when he deserved it.

"How about we go to Okinawa?"

The question made you freeze. Your eyes flicked up from your laptop before you slowly turned to look up at him. Your eyes slowly went into a glare. "To do what?" You asked, not hostility in your voice but apprehension.

"You know, just..." He shrugged. "We could spend some time there, you and me. We haven't gone in a while and I think it would be nice." You stayed silent as you just watched him. He felt nervous at your eyes on him like that. He took a step forward. "Just after our holiday with the boys and everyone, we could... if you want."

You stared at him for another minute. You then let out a scoff and turned back to continue whatever it was you were doing on your laptop. You continued to type as you kept your eyes on the screen in front of you.

Izuku let out a quiet sigh, not exactly surprised. His shoulders dropped as he turned to head to the shower.

"I'll think about it."

The sound of your voice made him freeze in place. He turned back to look at you but you continued to type away, ignoring him otherwise.

That was enough to make him smile, knowing that you gave him just a lick of hope was enough to make him happy with your answer.

-Glitch1d

#midoriya x reader angst #izuku midoriya x reader #mha x y/n #bnha #deku x reader #dilf izuku midoriya #dilf midoriya #dilf deku #dilf mha #izuku midoria x reader #midoriya izuku #bnha midoriya #midoriya izuku angst #izuku midoriya

[vivwritesfics]

angsty to fluff lando fic of reader getting insecure about herself and comparing herself to his ex gf and he reassures her🙏🙏

Y/N looked in the mirror. She was pretty, undeniably so, but she didn't see it that way. She turned from side to side, her phone open on Instagram on the floor in front of her.

She didn't follow her boyfriends ex, but, because of her likes, she came up as suggested. Y/N couldn't help but compare herself.

She wasn't like Lando's ex girlfriend. And it made her wonder. Why did he fall for her when his last girlfriend was so different? And how long until he realised this and went searching for something else?

The front door went, jolting Y/N away from her thoughts. Lando was home. Her boyfriend was home.

It was rare that Y/N let her thoughts get to her like this. But, when did did, Lando could always tell. She became quieter, more closed off. It was a repeating cycle, where Y/N would become closed off and Lando would give her time. But then he'd realise he misses his girlfriend so he'd wrap her in his arms and kiss her all over her face until she started giggling.

Yeah, Lando knew how to deal with this better than anybody. Of course, he didn't know why Y/N retreated into herself. He'd asked, sure, but she wouldn't tell him.

But things would quickly go back to normal. Using nothing but how much he loved her, Lando could get Y/N back to her usual smiling, giggling self.

But was happening more and more often.

It wasn't angering Lando, every time he came home and his girlfriend refused to meet his eye. No, it was worrying him. He just wanted her to be happy. He needed to get to the bottom of this.

Lando didn't know how he was going it. When Y/N wouldn't tell him, it was going to be incredibly difficult. But then, when Y/N went to the bathroom. She left her phone on the bed, screen unlocked on Instagram.

Lando picked up the phone. He wasn't trying to snoop, really. It was out of concern.

And then he saw it, the picture of his ex girlfriend up on Y/N's phone. What the hell?

Lando set off to the bathroom. He knocked on the door before pushing it open. "Lan, do you mind?" Y/N asked.

"Of course not."

No, Lando didn't mind. They'd been in the bathroom together a thousand times before. "Baby, what is this?" He asked as he leaned against the window ledge.

He turned the phone towards her and Y/N suddenly snatched it away from him. "That's my private business," she mumbled, locking the screen.

"Baby, come on. Just tell me what's going on, please," he begged, grabbing a hold of her hands. "I'm worried out you."

Suddenly, Y/N sobbed. She let out a sob, her head falling forward.

Lando let her finish up and met her back in the bedroom, the tear tracks still on her face. "Okay," she said with a shaky breath as she sat on the bed beside Lando.

"Okay?" He had to repeat when she said nothing more.

Y/N sucked in a deep breath. "I... am insecure. I'm really insecure, actually." It was weird to finally admit. After months of the odd spiral here or there, It was strange to finally get off her chest,

"But you have nothing to be insecure of," Lando said.

"But I do, Lan. I keep seeing the pictures of your ex and I can't help but wonder why you're with me." That bit she said quiet. It was embarrassing to admit that she let somebody else make her feel this way.

"No, baby, you don't," Lando insisted. "I love you, right?" He said and waited for her to nod her head. "And I love you for a reason, right?" Again, he waited for her to nod. "And you know there's a reason that I'm not with her again, right?"

Yeah, Y/N knew. There was a reason he and her broke up, she knew.

"And if I thought there was a reason I didn't want to be with you, I wouldn't, right?"

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say. Y/N punched his arm and Lando grabbed a hold of her, pulling her close. He wrestled her into a cuddling position and kissed the top of her head. "I love you, you muppet. Got that?"

"Got it."

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader smut #lando norris fluff #lando norris x you #lando norris x female reader #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x reader #ln4 smut

[luveline]

hi!!! congrats on 31k babe🧡 could i get 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐬 with dad!eddie and roan, where r buys roan lots of stuff for halloween because she can't decide on a costume and eddie's just wildly in love with his girls? ty

join luveline's halloween party

tysm!!!! roan and eddie forever ♡ dad!eddie x fem!reader

You ignore Eddie when you get home. Sometimes (rarely, so rarely) you choose to visit him first where he's making dinner after work. But today, as you usually do, you choose Roan. He can't even be mad.

"Roan, my princess," you greet, voice deeply entrenched with love. "Give me a kiss before I die of no kisses."

He listens to Roan standing up on the sofa and the sound of you picking her up over the back of it. Her voice, scratchy with Friday night tired, rings all the way to the kitchen.

"Hi, mommy."

"Hello," you say. He doesn't have to guess what the next sound is, your kisses landing over both her tiny cheeks.

Her calling you mommy is getting to a more often than not stage and still, still, it makes his heart soar. He knows your heart does the same. He's hugged you and placated you enough times now to now how much it means to you.

I just love her and I can't believe it, you'd said once.

"Roanie," you say, your voice growing louder as you walk into the hall. There's a sound of rustling plastic. "I know you said you don't know what you want to be for Halloween, so I went to the costume store on my lunch break and I have some stuff for you look at."

His daughter cheers at the good news and the two of you appear in the kitchen doorway, both of his girls looking super tired because it's the end of the week.

"Hi, gorgeous," he greets, saccharine sweet.

You kiss Roan's cheeks again. "Dad's talking to you."

"While she's super duper gorgeous," he starts in parentese though Roan's a little too old for it — she melts shyly anyway — and ends more serious, "I was talking to you."

You receive his rough kiss to the top of your cheek with a smile as melty as his daughter's, practically leaning into his lips.

"Hi, handsome," you say.

"Super duper handsome," Roan says, obviously feeling the love.

He kisses her cheek though he'd already spent ten minutes after school cajoled into a sleepy cuddle, which he can't wait to tell you about. (See: rub it in your face.)

You set Roan down in a chair by the kitchen table and peel open the bag. Eddie leans against the counter next to the stove so he can watch while he keeps an eye on dinner as you pull out lots of things, too many things.

There's a princess costume first and foremost. Roan has more princess dresses than she knows what to do with, especially the pricy one you'd gifted her when she first moved in, and it's pale compared to the rest of your options: a pumpkin costume, a black cat, kermit from the muppets.

Then there's the add-ons. "I got this gross fake blood stuff, and I got zombie make up, and bandages if you want to be a mummy. And if you don't like any of it we can go back in the morning and have a look around, don't worry, I can't take back what you don't want. Or we can keep everything and make you a crazy monster of things. Ooh! I saw, like, a red wig and if daddy says it's okay I bet we could make you some shells and you could be Ariel."

You keep going, you chat and babble and somewhere between it all your hands end up in Roan's hair, petting it away from your face as you go.

Eddie knows it isn't easy to go all out. Working long hours every day, coming home to more things you wouldn't have done before. He's had a lot longer to get used to how little time he has, and he wouldn't blame you if you slacked on certain things. He's guilty of slacking all the time. Being a parent is hard. Sometimes McDonald's is worth it for the ten minute silence.

But you rarely slack, you do things he hasn't asked you to do often, and he always takes it for what it is — love. Sick, cheesy, puts-hallmark-movies-to-shame, love. For him and his girl.

Roan makes Eddie literally as proud as she can when she smiles up at you and says, "Thank you," in her serious little voice.

"You're welcome!" you say with a laugh, throwing a look over your shoulder at him that's just as proud. Get a look at what you made, Munson.

"Roan, you're gonna have to let me kiss her for at least the next ten minutes," Eddie says severely.

"Ew, no!"

"Five?"

Roan hums. "Mm, maybe less?"

"Two?"

Roan nods and climbs off of her chair. She changes her mind a couple of seconds into her journey and turns to run upto the table, grabbing as many halloween things out of the bag as she can carry before she leaves. A trail of bits and bobs like breadcrums fall behind her.

"What did I do?" you ask, giddy as Eddie snakes his finger through your belt loop and tugs you into his chest.

"Just lemme kiss you," he pleads. There isn't time to explain the details.

You beam and grab his face in both of your loving hands.

He barely gets a minute of kisses when Roan starts shouting for someone to help her. "I'm stuck in the pumk-min!"

"She's stuck in the pumk-min," you repeat adoringly.

"I heard."

-

more eddie and roan

#luveline's halloween party #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #eddie and roan

[vividvivvy]

how would the MSBY 4 react to fem!reader being stronger then they look by picking each of them up easily??

So, when I saw this immediately one thing popped into my brain. Cause you know who is stronger than they look and pick people up easily. Cheerleaders. (This is biased because I do competitive cheerleading)

MSBY Jackals boys reacting to their cute little cheer leader girlfriend absolutely rocking their shit.

Shoyo Hinata: he had known you did competitive cheerleading of course, but the first time he went to one of your competitions he was in awe. He had never seen anyone jump higher than him until now.

After your round was over he rushed off the bleachers and swept you up into his arms, "oh my goodness babe that was amazing! You didn't tell me you could do any of that stuff!" He pulled back and grabbed your shoulders, shaking you profusely as he shouted and rambled about what he had seen while you were on the mat.

"you were like, up and then back down and then you even picked up that other girl! All by yourself! And then you even threw her in the air!" The smile on his face was one you'd never forget, he looked so proud of you but to you this was just another thing you did regularly.

"Shoyo I have to pick people up like that every single day" your voice was gentle as you wrapped your arms around him and easily managed to lift his feet off the ground, even giving him a small toss before his feet landed back on the ground. "You would make a great flyer Sho"

He faltered for a minute and just stared at you, being picked up wasn't particularly new to him, he was normally one of the smallest people in his friend group, but he'd never been picked up by a girl, especially not one that looked so small and cute, and yet here he was, his sweet little girlfriend had just picked him up like he didn't weigh more then a bag of flour.

"you just did that..."

"yeah, that's kind of what I do babe"

Kotaro Bokuto: brags about you like there is no tomorrow, he knows damn well that he has a cool girlfriend. I feel like that would be well established the first time you did a standing back tuck in front of him (basically a back flip). He had never messaged the team group chat so fast, something like.

"GUYS MY GIRLFRIEND CAN LITERALLY DO A BACKFLIP"

He didn't expect, however, that one day while you were helping out at his volleyball practice, he would see you scoop up his teammate with ease and carry him off the court when he had hurt his leg and couldn't stand. Once the man you can been carrying was set down and settled Bokuto ran up to you yelling. "Babe! Babe! Pick me up to!"

At first you had turned him down, saying that you didn't want to strain your arms too much before practice later, but he started sulking in a random corner of the gym and wouldn't budge. So you walked over and picked him up bridal style.

It was a comical sight honestly, a short girl with skinny arms, holding her giant muscle man of a boyfriend like he was a princess, but there it was. No one would have believed it if they hadn't seen it, but it was right in front of the whole team's eyes. And Atsumu had never snapped a picture faster in his life before walking away and chuckling to himself, Shoyo bouncing like a happy dog at his side, laughing at the photo he took. "That's going on the teams Instagram".

Bokuto couldn't care less about all the eyes on him though, he was beaming with happiness.

"my girlfriend can do a backflip AND she can pick me up!"

Miya Atsumu: Miya thought it was amazing that he had a girlfriend that did competitive cheer, I mean who wouldn't want a cheerleader girlfriend. But he didn't realize how much work went into your sport. You go to the gym almost more than he does. On top of that you do weekly yoga class and have an entire mini gym set up in your house.

"God damn princess, I knew that you were tough but don't go showing me up" he laughed as he watched you easily squat his max, you only smirked and went to get more weights. "It was your idea to go on a gym date my love"

He rolled his eyes and "well yeah but I didn't think you'd totally show me up, I thought I'd get to show off to you." He watched you squat again, you were squatting more then he had in, well ever, "what do you do in cheer, cause God damn"

"I throw people" you spoke nonchalantly and he laughed, waiting for you to continue on, but you only glanced at him from the corner of your eye. "I'm serious babe, I'm a base, my job is literally to throw people" you did crack a smile, you couldn't really stay serious when talking about throwing your teammates around.

"then throw me" he challenged without hesitation, you paused what you were doing and stepped away from where you had been doing your squats, walking up to him with the most neutral face he'd ever seen you with, and reaching down, and lifting him up from just above his knees.

Of course a lot of people in the gym had started staring at this point, I mean a girl who looked like she had never set foot into a gym just lifted her built boyfriend up like a ragdoll.

You held him there for a moment before he felt your entire body shift at your knees, and the large male heard you whisper "1, 2, down, up" then you let go of him and he was in the air, and before he knew it he was planted back on the ground.

It all happened way too quickly for him to process, he just stood there for a minute before a smirk grew over his face.

"well shit. My girlfriend literally just threw me"

Kiyoomi Sakusa: he was never one to show much interest in your sport, he would go to your competitions and congratulate you when you did good and support you when your team didn't do great. But other than that he didn't ask many questions or pry about it, just like you didn't with volleyball.

Though even though you didn't pry much about volleyball, you couldn't help but get super excited for your tall boyfriend when his team would win games. The team had grown accustomed to you rushing the court after they won to jump into your boyfriend's arms, he normally kept his cool in these situations, simply hugging you and holding you up while you shouted and cheered for him.

But this game played out a little differently, you had been on the edge of your seat the whole time, and you could visibly see Sakusa getting more and more frustrated as the two teams were in a constant back and forth. So when Hinata had managed the winning spike, you had never raced down the bleachers faster in your life.

Sakusa braced for you to run up and jump at him like you normally do, wrapping your much smaller frame around him and clinging onto him. But instead you threw your arms around his legs, just below his (flat) butt, lifting your 6'2 boyfriend off the ground. His teammates had never seen the calm and collected Sakusa lose his cool that quick, his center of gravity leaned directly backwards but his short girlfriend held firm to the ground, and didn't put him down until you heard him mumble.

"hey, put me down..." You scrambled to put him down and immediately started apologizing.

"I'm so sorry Yoomi! It's just what I do with the girls in cheer I didn't- it was muscle memory i-"

"it's fine just, no more picking me up when hundreds of people are staring at us, it's really awkward"

Sorry if it's not what you expected! I heavily base y/n on myself so when I read your request it was the first thing that came to mind. I hope it's ok 🫶

#haikyuu msby #msby atsumu #msby sakusa #msby hinata #msby black jackal #msby bokuto #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo #cheerleading #cheerleader reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #kotaro bokuto #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto #haikyuu shoyo #shoyo hinata x reader

[strangersteddierthings]

Porcelain Steve - Part 5

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

"Get a grip," Eddie mutters to himself as he places the phone back onto its cradle for the fourth time that day without having made a phone call. He paces back and forth in front of the phone, one, two, three full lines across the room and back before he picks up the phone, dials the Henderson's number, lets it ring one and a half times, then slams the phone down again before someone can answer.

He thinks he's losing it a little. All this time he thought he was the level-headed one but now that it's been two full days of not seeing Porcelain Steve, he thinks he's going to climb the walls and start ripping up the carpets. Logically he knows that nothing has happened. If something had, he would have heard from Dustin already, either by phone or over the walkie (which may or may not be on him at all times, volume as loud as it goes). They wouldn't leave him in the dark.

Right?

Right. Right.

He picks up the phone again, dialing the Buckley house instead.

Robin's dad answers, which is great. Robin's mom likes to play 20 Questions before handing the phone off. He keeps meaning to ask Robin if her mom does that for everyone that calls, or if he's just the lucky one. Robin's dad is a straightforward guy. He wants to know who is calling, and who they want to talk to.

"Robin is out, but I can give her a message, Eddie," Mr. Buckley says.

"Yes, please. Sir. Just let her know I called."

"Will do. Goodbye."

He listens to the dial tone for a few seconds before setting the phone down for the sixth time in less than 15 minutes. He has got to do something to keep busy or the carpets are toast.

Usually when he's this restless he bothers his friends, but Jeff is out of town on a family vacation, no one answered the phone at Gareth's house (first person he called this morning), and Brian has a summer job taking up his time, so now he's left to figure out distractions on his own.

His room is filled with distractions, but nothing that can claim his attention for too long. He puts a cassette in the player but doesn't turn it up to the volume that usually calms him because he doesn't want to miss hearing the phone ring. He'd been trying to distract himself with campaign planning and keeps getting off track with the fantasy that this would be the campaign he could convince Steve to at least hang out and observe, if not play in one or two sessions as an over-powered NPC.

Even Return of the King can't hold his attention for more than two pages, even if he flips through to read just his favorite parts because his mind immediately plays word association games which leads to thinking of Steve.

It hits Eddie then that he misses Steve. He misses climbing into Steve's car and bitching about whatever station Steve's set the radio on playing the Top 40. He misses late night smoke sessions where Steve seems to soften under his high and the night sky as they lay atop the trailer close enough to touch and talk about nothing. He misses being able to steal glances at Steve when he throws his head back to laugh hysterically at something he or Robin had said.

He misses Steve so intensely and fiercely that it sits like a rock in his stomach. He would give anything to hear Steve's voice again.

Oh. Oh no. He needs distraction from his thoughts now.

He successfully managed to hem and haw about his room for almost an hour before he marches back out to the living room and the phone set on the end table next to Wayne's recliner. Picks it up then sets it down again, turning on heel to the kitchen. Maybe breakfast (a glance to the clock on the wall tells him the time is 12:50, so maybe it's actually lunch) will be a sufficient time sink.

He pulls out all the fixings of a PB&J and is in the process of searching for a clean(ish) butter knife when three rapid knocks startle him, freezing him in place for a moment.

The knocking happens again, five quick raps this time, but Eddie was already making his way to the door by the third this time. There is a thought in the back of his mind that rises, unbidden, oh God, something's happened and it makes him wrench the door open with more force than necessary.

Robin stands on his porch, but not for long. She's got a backpack on and a grocery bag hanging off of one arm and when Eddie just blinks at her in a moment of confusion, she huffs and bullies her way inside. He full body turns, closing the door as he does so, to watch her deposit the bag, then backpack, onto the couch.

"Uh, hi?" Eddie manages as he watches her begin to unload the things she brought. A box of microwave popcorn, an obscene amount of candy bars, an assortment of nail polishes, and more but his attention is dragged up to the side of Robin's face when she starts talking, pulling out VHS tapes, clearly rented from Family Video.

"So, I brought a few options for us. Halloween because it was your most rented film back when Steve and I still worked there, so I thought it was a safe bet. Also go The Black Cauldron because you strike me as a Black Cauldron kind of guy, The Hidden Fortress because it's one of my favorites and you might enjoy it, too, and Top Gun, because, well, it might serve as a good distraction for a bit," Robin holds up each tape as she lists them off, setting them on the coffee table next to the assorted stuff she brought with. "Also got, like, a manicure set and some scrunchies and bobby pins. Not really sure how occupied you need to be right now."

"Uh.... what?"

Robin rolls her eyes like Eddie's slow on the uptake, "Distraction. I'm here to provide it. Though, maybe I should have called and asked what you do when you want to kill time. I just... defaulted to what Steve and I do. Movies and makeovers, but, like, if that doesn't work that's fine. It's just, you've joined us before on movie makeover nights, so I assumed..."

Eddie swallows pushing down the knot threatening to form in his throat. It's not a shock (anymore) that he's truly friends with Robin, but sometimes it's not at the forefront of his mind. When he thinks of friends, Jeff, Gareth, and Brian come to mind first. They've years of history together, after all. What he's got with Robin, and everyone else, is deeper than just friendship, the shared secret of Spring Break '86 that's made them all ride or die. So, now, with Robin showing up, instinctively wanting to help because they're friends even without Steve as a buffer, it just kinda rocks Eddie emotionally.

"No, it's great. I just- how did you know?"

Robin cocks her head at him, "You didn't leave a message."

He's not sure what facial expression he makes but everything about Robin softens just a bit. It's so reminiscent of how she is with Steve in the soft, quiet moments when she thinks no one else is paying attention to her and Steve. (Eddie's always paying attention.)

"Oh, dingbat," She says it softly and with a shake of her head before grabbing the popcorn box and ripping it open. She fishes out a packet and tosses it to him. "Get that going. I'm putting in Top Gun."

Wordlessly, Eddie obeys. He wants to ask more questions. What's the look for? Since when does she call him dingbat? What is happening? He throws the bag into the microwave, then remembers the PB&J he was attempting to make earlier. He makes two sandwiches, pausing only to dump the popcorn into a bowl once the microwave beeps. He puts the sandwiches on a plate to make carrying everything easier and joins Robin on the couch.

She accepts the offered sandwich with glee and they watch the first half hour of Top Gun in silence before Eddie gets his words gathered.

"How did you know?" He asks again.

"My dad," she says like a confession, not even needing Eddie to elaborate what he means, "it's, like, the highlight of his day when I miss a call from you. He's so overdramatic about delivering it, all bowing at me and repeating whatever lame thing you said like the esteemed Mister Munson has called to inquire if the lovely Lady Robin would like to partake on an outing the afternoon overmorrow or whatever shit you decide to sprout. Who says 'overmorrow' anyway? So, when I got back from helping mom grocery shop, he just... he pulled the grocery bags from my hands and told me 'I think Eddie needs you'."

He's only met the Buckley's face to face a few times. They don't hang out at Robin's house much so he's a bit shocked that Mr. Buckley even picked up Eddie's dramatics enough to notice something was off.

"My parents are a bit overprotective and overbearing sometimes but they care and listen," Robin says, "so when you called and seemed to different to what my dad is used to hearing- well, I asked to borrow his car, and made a quick pitstop. I was just kind of banking on the fact you need a distraction the same way I do."

He understands what Robin isn't actually saying. "From thinking about Steve."

She nods, "yeah. I know Dustin would never let anything happen to him, but it still leaves me jittery when I don't see him. Especially since the last time I went two days without seeing Steve he- well, he turned into a porcelain doll."

"I thought I was doing okay with all this, you know?" Eddie finds himself saying. "But I'm not. And it's so fucking stupid. It's not like I'm the only one who cares about Steve, or is worried, but- And it's not that I don't trust Dustin to keep him safe. I just- it's..."

"It's different. How you feel about Steve, how Dustin feels about Steve, and how I do. It's all different."

Eddie freezes. He's never- they don't talk about it. He's only said it out loud to three people. Wayne, Jeff, and his father. The last one landed him in the hospital and Wayne's custody so it's not a secret he lets out lightly.

"Dustin's his brother," Robin continues, either unaware of how Eddie's basically quit breathing or choosing to ignore it, "but he's also a dumb teenage boy. He'd never let anything happen to Steve, but that's not a guarantee that nothing will happen. I worry, too. I want to just take Steve and wrap him in bubble wrap, put him in a box, wrap that in bubble wrap, then put that in a bigger box and set him in the middle of an empty room where nothing could accidentally fall over onto the box."

He huffs out a laugh at the mental image that conjures up. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," Robin says before sucking her lips between her teeth, then pushing them out with a pop! sound, seeming to think over something. He watches as she mentally braces herself, the physical tales of her shifting to face him more, shoulders tensing, leg bouncing slightly. "So anyway, it's different, how we feel about Steve. Dustin loves him. I love him. And you... You're in love with him."

Even though they're inside his own home, Eddie still jerks back and looks around, for anyone who might hear what Robin is accusing him of. "Listen, Buckley, you can't believe every rumor you hear ab-"

"Eddie," she says, holding one hand out, palm up, "stop. Give me your hand and make terrible, awkward eye contact with me for, like, five seconds, please. It's important."

Eddie, very slowly, slips his hand onto hers, and she covers it with her free hand and, as promised, they make awkward eye contact.

"I'm a lesbian," she blurts out and immediately looks away from Eddie's face, letting out a deep sigh of relief.

And Eddie? Well, he laughs. It starts as just a snort but then it grows. And Jesus, it's such an awful response to Robin coming out to him, but he can't stop. He knows that Robin has gifted him with this trust, with knowledge that could get her murdered, and he should not be laughing.

Robin, for her part, takes it well. There's a few seconds of startled silence from her before she barks out her own laugh. Eddie laughs so hard and for so long he thinks he's going to puke, and Robin almost falls off the couch.

"Jesus Christ," is what he can manage to say once he's caught his breath.

"Jesus Christ," she echoes in a quieter voice.

Top Gun plays on in the background.

Eddie still can't say it out loud, so instead he says, "am I that obvious?"

"No. But I can recognize the signs of trying to hide a massive crush on someone of the same gender. You know, with all the experience I have at it."

"You are far better at hiding that then me I guess. I had no clue about you."

She shrugs, "yeah, well, it's not like we hang around a lot of girls for me to crush on. It's you, me, and Steve. Occasionally a kid or five. No offense, but I'd rather die than look at any of you lustfully."

Eddie fakes gagging at the thought.

Robin swats his arm playfully. "Anyway, what I'm saying is, I get that it makes you feel a little crazy not being around Steve. Especially when he's, like, literally unable to protect himself currently. I feel like that, too. He's my soulmate and no one knows me as well as he does. It's... lonely without him."

"So... Steve knows...?"

"Oh yeah. Me telling him it what I think kicked off our real friendship."

"I thought all the shit that happened at Star Court did that."

"That's when I told him. After barfing into a toilet."

"Gross."

"It really was. Steve took it so well. Then he mocked me for my crush."

"Which was...?"

"Absolutely not telling you. Anyway. That's enough mushy talky time. Paint my nails," she says, leaning over to grab a yellow nail polish off the coffee table.

Eddie holds out his hand to take it. He's not even going to pretend he doesn't want to.

Silence falls over them, a comfortable one. Eddie doesn't feel like climbing the walls much anymore, so Robin's distraction is working. Maybe it's just the not being alone in the trailer anymore. Maybe it's the knowing he's not alone anymore.

Maybe it's also knowing that Steve knows about Robin and still loves her.

(Funny that Steve just happened to find and befriend the probably only two queer people in all of Hawkins.)

They put in The Hidden Fortress next and Robin talks through almost the whole thing, telling him facts and that this next part is actually her favorite part.

By the time Robin leaves, well after nightfall, Eddie is feeling more settled.

#my fic #steddie #porcelain steve #robin and eddie friendship #robin and eddie bonding time!! #i am procrastinating writing the final part because i cant choose between the 3 different ways i want to end this #i mean ill pick one eventually and maybe just make a post about all the scenes that didnt make it into the fic #anyway theres 2-3 parts left

[thesamoanqueen]

Let me down

Raiting: 16+

Warnings: Soft SMUT; Fluff; Angst(maybe?!).

A/N: I had to give him another win on the WM night... because like he said "Sometimes bad guys win"

They really hated him now. He'd felt their eyes on his back like eighty thousand snipers as he walked up the ramp for the third time at the biggest event in the business with titles still on his shoulders. He had come out there knowing he was tearing their hope away, aware that he was the real sniper. When he had thought of that story, his story and had talked first with Paul and then with Michael, they had all agreed that it would be as close to reality as possible. Life isn't fair, that was reality and that was his story. Good guys don't always do well, no matter how much effort you put in or how hard you work, sometimes things don't go as you hoped. It had been like this for him for many years. For them and their hero that night, it was like this. You make sacrifices, you use shortcuts, and do everything you can to keep what you have when someone or something threatens it. He had watched them from the top of his mountain, all of them, a few seconds, before taking the exit to come to terms with something else.

- Good job. Well done. - Michael Hayes was the first to pull him into an hug, like always.

Within seconds, chaos erupted around him. Everyone had something to say, Hunter had already taken off his headphones to reach the room where the press conference would take place, they only had a few minutes. He had to settle down as best he could, tape a short promo and join them. He heard Paul behind him give a quick indication to Solo, but Roman already had his eyes elsewhere.

He wanted to see her, he needed to see her, if only for a second before going out there again, because for him it wasn't over yet and what awaited him was what really worried him. But Y/N anticipated him as soon as he set foot out the gorilla, placing a towel on his shoulders and Roman instinctively pulled her against him, feeling her give in to the tension to cling to him.

- God… - she breathed into the hollow of his neck and Roman tightened his grip, almost until it hurt, without even wondering why that muttering.

If only he could, he would have cut off the rest of the world in that instant, but Paul's voice calling back softly, with a little guilt, reminded him that he still couldn't. They had so much to talk about, him, so much to apologize for, but first he had to close the night.

- Wait me, kay? – he muttered against her hair and Y/N immediately broke away from him to adjust the shirt she had under her jacket, one of his merchandise.

At least he hadn't soiled her with all that sweat.

- A doctor!

- We shoot the video and then, to the conference.

- Three minutes, cmon everyone!

She looked at him once more as she backed away down the hallway amidst the chaos that still reigned behind scenes and he saw her nod slowly, before turning away, disappearing who knows where without saying anything.

He had joined her after changing into something more cozy, body struggling for the last effort and mind suddenly blank. He'd thought for weeks about what to say, how to do it, but right now, sitting next to her in his suite, all he could think about was how she'd left after the match. It would have been easy to make excuses, justify everything with his busy schedule, distract himself with lockeroom rumors, try to pick up where they left off last time, but it wouldn't be honest, it wouldn't be fair and Roman didn't want anymore to go down that road. They had to talk and they had to do it once and for all, because there was too much now between them, for too long and the situation had taken a wrong turn without him wanting it. Y/N had proved it to him without putting on a scene.

He wasn't sure how she felt about their relationship. There had been moments in almost a year, when he had sworn he had seen everything from her and others, when he had heard her throw the emptiness of a fuck in his face. They had always been comfortable together, with an almost surreal simplicity, the attraction and physical bond, extras that both of them have accepted without holding back. But you don't build something stable just out of that, and Roman had always been careful not to be fooled or to take things lightly. Y/N had never been a game for him and he hadn't spared himself once in treating her as she deserved, yet here they were.

- How's your back? - Y/N asked softly and for first, dragging him out of his thoughts and Roman only realized at that moment that he had a hand gripping the band around his back and that it had probably been there for too long.

- One week and I won't think about it anymore – he tried to reassure her, but her caramel colored leg dangled a bit in air, before she wrinkled her nose and he knew she wasn't sure at all.

- It was a bad blow. He could have done better, even on the ramp. Too fast, it wasn't necessary.

She had a good eye and both blows hadn't been the best for his back actually, he couldn't hide it, but it wasn't bad enough to put on that face of hers and he knew her well enough to anticipated that moment. And it was for that moment that he had blown everything maybe.

- You've been watching me all the match – he noted, with a small smile and Y/N rolled her shoulders.

- There wasn't much else I could do.

It was definitely that, the reason. And she was throwing it in his face after waiting more patiently than necessary, without scenes or accusations, after being there for him anyway. He deserved it, honestly he deserved more than this for treating her like that.

- I'm sorry I didn't tell you anything.

It wasn't a lie, he was really sorry. The habit of telling her everything and involving her, had been the fastest vice that Roman had acquired in his whole life, even going against his own reserved nature. By now she was the first and often the only person he thought of when something happened to him, at work or not, but on that occasion he had had to make a choice. One that he would have wanted to avoid with all his heart and that he had in any case imposed himself out of a sense of responsibility, towards the company and above all, towards her.

He looked at her as she leaned back on the sofa saying nothing, her eyes fixed on his hands, but not on him and he nodded slowly, while beyond the windows the lights of Los Angeles continued to put on a show.

- There's a lot to work on and after tonight a lot will probably change. We have agreements, my family and I and I will make sure they stick to them, I'm in a position to do that. The story takes priority, we've been working on it for a long time now and tonight was important. To show everyone that we are giving something out there. It was a delicate situation… – he remembered seriously, frowning at the thought of what he had found in his hands together with the most important main event of the year.

He was still the face of the company, his job was not just to play the role of the champion or pose for advertising campaigns. The management relied on him, so that the external impression was solid and successful since often, in the last period, they had sabotaged themselves. In that circumstance it had been something that no one had ever faced, the beginning of a new era and Roman had tried to do everything possible in his role to make things go better.

Beside him, Y/N nodded before he could even finish speaking, her expression as serious as his.

- I get it. – she knew the background and even if she didn't have to deal with that story firsthand, he was sure that she understood its importance, but it was not the only reason behind his behavior and it was what he had to make her understand.

- I know… but I also know that you have my back and I didn't want you to end up in the middle. – he admitted with a heavy breath and Y/N's gaze was immediately on him, on her face an expression that Roman never wanted to see - I don't mean it that way. - he tried to calm her down.

- Then explain to me in which sense you mean it, because it seems exactly the wrong one. - she retorted, her tone even too calm and detached and Roman took another breath, looking at her without hesitation.

Not only had he kept the outcome of the match a secret, he had been careful to keep her away from everything in recent months, recommending Paul and the twins the same. He had cut her off. It hadn't been a way to get rid of her or to push away the distractions that might have ruined his focus, but the opposite. Keeping her close was all he wanted now, Roman needed her like the air he breathed and the run to WM wasn't an exception just because there were more meetings to keep him busy. He never wanted to deprive himself of having her beside him, but he had made that choice for her more than for anyone else.

- I didn't want to cause you thoughts for months. It's the heaviest time of the year, you've had your meetings too, I wanted to see you continue on your path, reach your goals without feeling obligations for me and the boys, I wanted to keep you away from problems. You would have tried to be supportive, you would have gone out of your way, we both know that and I couldn't allow it. - he explained, his brow furrowed - and I'm not saying that because I don't think you're capable of doing it. I know you can, that you would not have seen it as an obligation. I know you can handle the tension, I never thought otherwise.

Y/N was the strongest woman he had ever known, in some ways even stronger than his mama. Life had not been kind to her and yet she was able to become the beautiful woman near him. Roman knew what she was capable of, but he had had to do it. He had felt the visceral need to shield her from what would only weigh her down, the responsibility to protect her from the worst that would spring out during those moments and give her priority over his needs. In his mind Y/N was on top of everything, she was his priority and he had acted upon it.

Her dark eyes surveyed him without hesitation, for a moment giving the impression of softening, but it was an instant and Y/N sent it away, hands folded together, shoulder lifting a lit.

- But you thought that not telling me anything would help? I had no idea what was going through your mind, Roman, it didn't make me feel better or keep me focused – she pointed out to him and Roman took her disappointment hands down.

Silently, he watched as she stared a hole in the darkened tv screen on the opposite wall, trying to calm her mood and swallowing whatever reached her lips, to take another moment.

- I was sure that something was happening to you… everyone was talking, they were freaking out out there and behind it was even worse during the shows… I know how heavy it is usually, I see you and that atmosphere was building up a bit too much, I didn't like it and yeah, maybe I wouldnt have the right approach and you did right, but i wanted to be there for you. I know it's not my place, it's not up to me, you don't have to talk to me about everything or drag me around, but I wanted to be there for you, it was important because I was sure it was important to you – she finally said, abruptly and without warning, looking straight back at him.

He knew that shadow in her eyes and the slant in her tone. For almost a year he had done nothing but fight to obtain them, for a few seconds or for whole nights, they had become his personal challenge, his obsession. It was one of those moments when Y/N seemed to want everything from him, good and bad, but it was the first time she'd admitted it and the fact that she almost seemed to regret it, that she wasn't even angry, because of his wrong choice, makes Roman snap.

- You were there, whenever I needed you and you're here now. - he said, voice hoarse and his face serious, trying to control himself to go through with it, to show her otherwise.

Roman had gone from listening to her stories about bad dates into some arenas to waiting for her to return to the hotel. From not bearing not knowing where she was to blocking her by any means with him somewhere. He had had the wrong attitudes, he had become possessive and had been on more than one occasion on the verge of exploding when he had had to deal with reality between them. And he had certainly made bad choices, remaining silent, taking advantage of moments and letting others go, but he wasn't going to do it tonight. Her place had always been beside him, for Roman it had been since before she had that meltdown at the gym and he wouldn't leave her in any doubt about it. Not even seeing that expression disappear from her face again and change into a nod that would put off that story.

- C'mere - he pulled at, searching and finding her hand to bring her closer to him.

He wouldn't let go without putting that point inside her head, not even if it was the last thing he did before seeing life give him a bad lesson too. He would or he wouldn't have gone down, there was no other plans. There was no plan B with Y/N, she was the only plan.

Y/N didn't resist, she never did it with him, but one heavy breath lifted her chest as Roman forced her to sit on his lap. A few months ago that would have been enough to put pieces back together and now Roman suspected she was not sure about what to do. She was holding back, he felt it even though she didn't move her hand away from his and he moved instinctively, running his other along her tight to comfort her and draw circles on her soft caramel skin.

-No – he stopped her and Y/N's eyes moved from his fingers running over her, to him.

- What?

- I know what's going on, stop it. – he said, even more serious than before and Y/N quickly went from being confused to sighing, a slightly bitter smile on her full lips.

- Im just- she tried, but Roman pulled her closer to him, hand this time digging a lit into her skin, head bobbing for a second.

- I fucked up, but your place is here. We told each other stories, we pretended nothing happened and we stayed on our own enough… - he complained hoarsely - but there’s no red flag and there won't be any, stop thinking about it. If you don't want to continue, because you really don't want to, say so. I’ll let you go. But if that's not the reason… we'll find a way. Us, this time, ya hear me?

He had never thought of getting to that point with her like this. He'd hoped to do it differently, to do it the way Y/N deserved to happen, regardless of how it might have ended up, but the damage was already done and they hadn't raised him to hide from the odds. Life had taught him otherwise.

-Roman – she called him back, almost in a warning and he wrinkled his nose, nodding.

- You said you wanted to be with me. You are with me and I want you to stay there, but you have to be sure because we not going to continue down that road – he repeated, looking at her from below his position, not wanting to give up on that condition.

Hiding and flirting was fun, exciting, but they weren't kids. They couldn't do it indefinitely and it had lasted long enough to push them in a bad mood anyway.

- Ya serious? – Y/N asked confused, seeing that he didn't give up, voice less firm for a moment, almost as if she hadn't expected it.

- Im positive.

Y/N didn't move, didn't even try to take her eyes off him, her body still tense and Roman hugged her a little tighter. She was trying to put the pieces together, he knows that…

- I can take your no. Say it if thats your choice now.- he said her, suspecting it was the problem behind her sudden silence and though that wasn't true at all, Roman again felt he had to cover her back, this time even giving her permission to give him the shot of the century.

- No.

And the shot came. Quick and unexpected even having called it, prompting Roman to nod his head, but his fingers refused to let go and unexpectedly found Y/N's.

That one was some bad, bad, heavy shit-

- No, it's not my choice.

He heard her clear up and brought his eyes back to her in time to see her duck. The contact with her lips caused him as always a discharge throughout his body and his arms snapped quickly, dragging her against his chest with no desire to hold back. Felt her breasts pressing against him, her endless legs keeping her on top of him and her nails slowly scratching his face, creeping into his beard. A growl, almost dangerous came out of his throat, vibrating through Y/N which had finally softened and Roman squeezed again, unable to control himself after being apart for so long and now having her all to himself. But Y/N taked back control, escaping his kisses that threatened to devour her, to place a hand on his chest, an expression suddenly threatening.

- If you try to put me against a wall again, I'll do worse than say no to you. - she warned him, still letting him swing her by her hips and even if those words would have required more, Roman still let out a grin.

Mood was now mounting out of control and his hands couldn't stay still, reclaiming everything that was now finally his.

- I thought you liked when I do it - he joked, making her raise an eyebrow.

- Ya know what? … no. - she pushed him, regaining the mood that she seemed to have lost before.

- Stop saying it. - It was strange to hear her say that, he wasn't used to it.

- No.

- Babygirl.

- Nope – she snapped with her lips and Roman grabbed her, determined to make up for lost time and maybe even wipe that smirk off her face, to replace it with another kind of expression.

But, even if he was used to much heavier weights than her, the fatigue of that night and the blows he had taken on the back unbalanced him and Y/N quickly put her feet on the floor, grabbing him by the shoulder despite him having managed to keep the position and hadn't thought to let her go.

- It's better if we give your back a break...

Y/N was right as always, he couldn't risk making the situation worse, especially when the following day had to show up for the first post WM show and give the impression of having a match. But he wouldn't be a good guy for anything in the world that night, the idea didn't even cross his mind.

- We will find a way – he proposed, pulling her against himself anyway to wrap his arms around her hips and Y/N turned spitefully, looking at him from her shoulder, while he planted a kiss on her neck and another one, sucking her soft spot.

- Only one? – she moaned, pulling him towards the bedroom with her and Roman cackled dangerously.

- You don't know what you accepted woman.

He had certainly done a lot wrong in a short time with Y/N and the lesson had come for him too that night. But sometimes the bad guys were given another chance to be right.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyanarossi @wickedsunfire @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @thiccc-rider-mcintyre @keybladeofsteel @iovereigns @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @ichdrachenfrau @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @wrestlezaynia @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @wanna-be-dominated @kitanasposts @namjoonspinkytoenail @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @raeluvshammett @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @thewarlordsworld @jeonmahi1864 @jxtina-86 @harmshake

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns fanfic #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x you #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns one shot

[skinbeneaththeskull]

SAGE so i was hanging out at the pool today and could not stop thinking about pool/hot tub sex with 80s dave GODDDD he'd be so mischievous i can't do this

HELLO??? YES i literally love you sm cus you bring in the best requests syn 💔💔🙏

just imagine Dave bringing you to the pool with the other guys because he wants to introduce you to them, so of course you say yes.

you have black bikini on, and it looks amazing on you, maybe a little too good. but you sat there, waiting for your boyfriend and the rest of the crew. you soon saw them walk up, and didn't see Dave yet, but hopefully he was going to show up. though, you did see three other males, one really long haired brunette and two others with medium length hair. you were about the only ones there, besides from three other girls who none of you knew.

after a few minutes, you saw the long haired boy come over to you, acting all friendly as he started to complement you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doin' here alone? why don't you come hang with me and my friends over there. whaddya say?"

you didn't really say anything, but you looked over his shoulder to see Dave right behind him, glaring at him like he was about to kill the dawn kid for talking to you. he had no idea who was behind him, so you smiled when you saw your boyfriend and Junior thought the gesture was towards him.

"cmon, let's go, yeah?"

when he tried grabbing your hand, Dave immediately slapped it off of you.

"what fucking gi- oh, hey Dave. when's your girl coming again?"

he asked, a little startled, "you're talkin' to her, fuckface," Dave groaned before pushing him to the side and shooing him off.

"talk to her like that again and i'll break both of your fucking arms,"

you were glad Dave came to the rescue, the over protectiveness giving you butterflies. he came closer before pulling you into a hug by your waist, clashing your bodies together before kissing you. he knew the others were looking, so he needed them to know that you were his. he reached a hand down to your ass, groping at it before pulling away, "cute suit," he whispered before walking you two over to the rest of the band.

"you assholes gonna swim or what? look like fuckin' lobsters."

you almost laughed at Dave's comment, them all just doing what he said, "seems like you have them on a leash, huh?" you giggled.

"yeah, guess soooo-"

he said before tackling you into the deep end, grabbing you so you both went down together. he knew you were going to be more than pissed at him for getting your hair wet, but he wanted to have a good time with you.

once you came to the surface, you groaned in annoyance and started to splash him. he turned to see that the water flying in the air was coming from you, and he just laughed.

"what? don't be mad over a little bit of water,"

you rolled your eyes as he picked you up and put you on the ledge of the pool side, "wanna go in the hot tub? 's kinda chilly in here, ain't it?" you could see the smirk on his lips rising, not really understanding before you felt the hardness rub against your leg. he tipped his head to the side, waiting for an answer and you looked around and just nodded softly. the other three were mingling with the other girls who were there, so hopefully they wouldn't pay attention to the two of you.

he pulled himself out of the pool and helped you up before leading you to the little hot tub in the corner. he set the temperature to warm but not overly hot, so the two of you could relax. once bubbles started floating to the top, he got in and you followed behind him, "are you sure this is a good idea? what if they look over here??" you were overthinking about it too much since you've never had public sex like this before. most importantly, not in a hot tub.

"then you better give 'em a fuckin' show, princess."

he said before sitting you in his lap, moving your bottoms to the side enough for his dick to fit in. once he lined up into you, he gripped onto your hips and started grinding you onto him.

"don't be too loud, mkay?"

he hushed, him going soft and slow. you could feel his chest against your back, him starting to pick up the pace. you're hands were grabbing on to his wrists, trying to steady yourself. you tried your best not to make any noise besides from soft, closed off "mm" sounds, the both of you being a little vocal. you could feel his breath against your ear, groaning softly into it.

it was starting to get overstimulating, but you tried your best to relax. Dave's length rubbing against your clit every time he went in and out of you. you could scream right about now, but you didn't want to get any unwanted attention. he immediately brought his hand up to your mouth to block any noise from coming out because he knew what was coming.

his thrusts got faster, you moaning into his palm before he shoved his ring and middle finger into your mouth.

"fucking suck."

his voice was low and raspy, him starting to get messier, knowing he was close too. you just listened, sending vibrations from your moans to his finger tips. your legs squeezed shut before you forcefully opened them again, holding them open with both hands as he went as fast and hard as his body would let him, causing you to get louder, seeing a few head turns, but couldn't find out where the noise was coming from.

"fuck- oh shit, 'm cumming.."

he huffed before pumping his seed inside of you. the grasp of your cunt around his dick only made him hornier before coming once again, really filling you up, enough for it to seep out of you.

he leaned back, trying to catch his breath before pulling out of you and fixing your bottoms. your legs were shaking before he picked you up and brought you over to the table with all your clothes. he helped you get dressed since you were violently shaking, knowing he fucked you maybe too good. it just made his ego go up a little more.

he bent down to kiss you on the forehead, moving your damp hair out of the way. everyone was dressed before Chris spoke up and offered to barbecue for everyone. Dave looked at you to see if you were up for it and just nodded. he smiled before agreeing and everyone left, going to the backyard to cook.

#megadeth #dave mustaine #david ellefson #dave x reader #dave mustaine x reader #dave smut #dave mustaine smut

[alphabetboyluvr]

THROTTLE - JJK | NINE

one/ two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - plans are being set in motion!!! back to busan we go! references to drugs, shitty driving, the usual. no smut! a rarity! plot!! one of my fave metaphors / set of lines in the entire fic is in this one!!

word count - 11.4k

minors dni // series masterlist

"I've been thinking," you tell Hoseok a little after dusk. The sun sets later these days, mid-year sun never wanting to settle. A monsoon has been looming for a few days now, but the grey clouds sit defiant in the air. "You were right."

He looks at you, contemplation sinking into the creases of his frown, the crisp white shirt he's wearing unbuttoned to his mid chest. A pair of thin-framed glasses adorn his eyes as he skims over the notes of a casefile from work.

"What about?"

His voice is soft as he asks.

With your hair like this - top layer in a half-undone bun, the rest wisping around your shoulders - he's reminded of how you used to be.

There's a lot to be said for your relationship, or lack thereof, but once upon a time, you'd cared for another. Would dance in his parents' kitchen when they were out of town, you in one of his shirts, bare feet padding against the ondol heated floor.

You look younger with your hair like this. Like yourself, he thinks. Someone he used to know.

It's part of the reason, you think, that you're so awful to another. You grew up together. He's a part of your formation, and you a part of his. There's a reminder of the innocence that once was.

He knows how much you wanted to get out of the fold. Knows you wouldn't have come back without an ulterior motive. He isn't naive to this. Isn't naive to anything you do. Is well aware you've been doing things that no woman with a diamond on her ring finger should be doing.

But he's no saint, either. The ring was given to you with a purpose. Just like his dress shirts are dry cleaned with a purpose. Saves you from having to wash his secretary's lipstick out of them.

"I need something to fill my days," you say. "I think I'm going crazy cooped up here."

It's not a lie.

It's also not the full truth; not what's prompting this conversation, but that's neither here nor there.

Hoseok nods. Put his case file on the coffee table and turns his full attention to you. There's a softness to him now, one that he didn't have the last time you spoke.

He's not all bad, not by any stretch of the imagination. Is just caught up in a God-awful world. He's like you, in that regard.

Whatever freedoms once belonged to you have been traded for protection - not just from the men who lurk around dingy boxing clubs, but from your own family, too.

Hoseok's position within the police force gives you an added layer of armour. He's chainmail. He knows this. Knows you need him.

But he needs you, too. He's got a greasy pole to climb. Helps him out if you're throwing him towels from the Mayor's office. Will get him to the top a little quicker.

It's unsurprising that he had been the one to suggest picking your relationship back up where it had been left a few years prior.

He had painted the idea as a beautiful utopia; Daegu's darling children, reunited. A powerhouse. Unstoppable.

You didn't have a plan back then, not yet - but power seemed like a good place to start.

"You've been away for a while," he muses, well aware that it's not been an easy adjustment for you. "I... Look, you and I both know this isn't ideal. I know you wouldn't be here if you thought there was another option for you."

When you nod, he thinks you might cry.

The person you are isn't the person he once knew. You're so strong in some regards, far more powerful than he ever thought you would be and yet at times you can seem so docile. So timid. Weak. He doesn't understand it. Not really. Doesn't understand you.

Because if he did, he'd know there's nothing docile about you.

"I don't actually want to ruin your life," he says with a small smile that seems sincere. Might not be. You choose to believe it is.

"It's fine," you offer back an equally minuscule smile. "I do a good enough job of that all on my own."

He presses his lips together, and contemplative dimples etch themselves into his cheeks. "What are you thinking? Let's work together. Find a solution."

Men. So easy to wrap around your finger.

"I'm thinking of proposing a library initiative to get the city kids reading. You know how much my Father likes a good press release," you say. "I'm not too sure yet. I could volunteer at the library, start promoting for the education sector. Something like that. It will give me something to do, and gets me in a public role that is pretty much as safe for publicity as can be. If I'm working as a volunteer, there's no need for additional expenses."

As you recite your lines, you think of Jimin - and how good he is at putting words together to make them sound convincing. He and Jin are definitely the brains of Kang's boys. Namjoon and Jungkook the brawn.

Like clockwork, you're thinking about him again. Thinking about the way he didn't take his eyes off you for the entire meeting. Thinking about the way he didn't crack a single smile. Thinking about how he'd followed you out afterwards, just to ask if you were okay - and about how forlorn he'd looked when you told him that you're none of his concern, and that the only thing between the pair of you anymore is business.

And then he had smirked. Told you that business was the only thing that had ever been between the pair of you. Told you not to get it twisted. Told you not to flatter yourself, and reminded you that he was the one who had orchestrated your entire relationship.

"Whatever's between us -" He had almost snarled. "- Is what I made it to be."

You'd laughed. Stepped a little closer. Toyed with the key still around his neck, and said, "we both know that's not entirely true, don't we?"

He was silent. Could barely breathe, let alone think straight. Wasn't till you were a mile across the city that he seemed to remember how to function like a human being again. He knows one thing for certain: he absolutely cannot be around you. Not if he wants any shot at sanity.

And so when you walk into the boxing club the next day, Jungkook pauses.

He watches how you scan the room, but drops his gaze before your eyes are able to reach his. He doesn't care for making conversation with you. Knows that it will be a fruitless endeavour.

It feels like oceans bloat the distance between you, and he's never much been one for swimming. Loves the freefall of the dive; hates the dictation of the currents.

"Is Jin about?" You ask, an air of indifference to your tone.

Following the conversation with Hoseok, you'd been granted approval from the Mayoral office to start planning the campaign. You'll be working with the PR team, but it's your domain. They'll be there to hold your hand if you need it, but you'll be the guide.

You're just here to report back to Seokjin. Aren't here for small talk. Would rather swallow a razor blade, you think. Much more pleasant.

Still in his workout gear, Jungkook doesn't look at you. Just shakes his head, slams his locker door shut, and kicks the heavy metal side door of the club open.

"You shouldn't be here," he says as he exits. "Ain't safe for you."

And he's right. It's a terrible place for you to be. Not for the risk of Kang showing up, or you being spotted fraternising with the enemy, but because of the way Jungkook makes you feel like your heart might stop beating entirely.

Part of you thinks it would be preferable if it did.

The door slams behind him, and echoes into the lofty room. The chime is haunting. Almost sounds like the same one that used to be in your stomach.

You're looking at your feet, gearing yourself up to leave, when the door swings back open.

Jungkook is agitated. Chewing on his cheeks, thunder in his eyes; he's the monsoon that's been looming all week.

You wish he would just crash. Pour down. Bless you with the glory of what it feels like to be covered in his torrential rains.

But there's a ring on your finger, and a hole in his chest. His mouth is constantly dry in your presence, and he's all cried out. He's got nothing left to give.

You look so familiar. So much like home - but Jungkook lost the keys a long time ago, and the one around his neck won't work on any of the fucking locks. He's shut out. An intruder every time he tries to peep inside the windows. It's invasive, the way he looks at you.

Has you drawing the curtains shut.

"I wasn't kidding," he says, his rounded white teeth clamping on his bottom lip before he can speak his favourite letter out loud. Doesn't wanna call you the name he used to trace on your back in the dark of the night. "You don't what it's been like since... You don't know. It's not safe."

"It's never been safe," you sneer. "Why the fuck are you acting like you care now?"

You watch as his tongue presses against the inside of his cheek. He shakes his head. Looks to his feet.

There's something calming about it. You've seen his head hung low like this many times over.

It's never been due to your faults, but his, instead - his own disappointment, his own shame.

When his eyes fall back on you, dark and heavy, you're reminded of exactly who he is: danger.

So yeah, you're right. It's never been safe. Not with him around. Not safe for your life, not safe for your heart.

Never safe.

But he's always cared.

He wants to curse you out. Wants to say that you've no fucking idea how hard this has all been for him. Wants you to know that the only reason you're both still in this mess is because he cared. If he had never cared, then he never would have fucked it all up in the first place.

The words on the tip of his tongue are knocked back down his throat when a familiar rattle sounds in the parking lot. Thick and heavy, the gargle belongs to an exhaust pipe, and Jungkook has been around these parts for long enough to know exactly who it belongs to.

"Shit," he hisses. Doesn't answer your question. Holds the door open, instead. "Out."

When you stay put, he snarls.

"C, get the fuck out. It's Kang. You wanna fuck things up all over again? Wanna prolong the time we have to spend together?"

You start walking as soon as he finishes his final question.

"S'what I thought," he mutters when you walk past, and closes the door behind you both. "Go slowly. Don't turn the corner into the parking lot. Wait for me."

He clicks the lock shut; scrambles the code on the padlock. Keeps his eyes on you while you wait by the corner of the building. Appreciates that you listened to him for once in your life.

Old Man Kang only comes to the boxing club these days to check up on Jungkook - to make sure he's fighting fit. He's got a boxing match coming up. A big one. Puts him up against some boys from Busan. He knows they don't take well to 'traitors', which is what he's deemed as, now that he's fighting for a Daegu club.

Kang's banking on a heavy return should Jungkook win - but there's no 'should' about it. He has to win. If he doesn't, his debt to Kang - for the money lost on you - will only increase.

"You drive here?" Jungkook whispers as he comes to stand behind you, peeking over your shoulder to get a view of the parking lot. You choose not to inhale through your nose. Know that you might just die if he still smells the same.

He scans the cars, but can't spot the Merc you've been driving.

Of course he can't. Hoseok needed it for work. An out of town job.

"Got the bus," you say back, just as quietly.

"M'kay," Jungkook says gently. Goes to put a hand on your waist. Stops himself. Remembers things aren't how they used to be. "Take my key, get in the passengers side. Keep your head down. I'm gonna go back in for a minute, and make it look like I'm just leaving. They'll ask questions if they hear me drive off without seeing my face."

"I don't-"

"It's not up for debate. If they see you here, it fucks everything up. Just get in the damn car."

It's silent, save for the faint hum of traffic on the main road a few blocks away. Just you, and Jungkook, and the sound of the city. Neither of you really understand the way you feel. It's not quite sorrow. It's solemn. Sad - yet there's serenity, too. A saving grace for those who have fallen from it.

Jungkook decides that you're too stubborn, but also knows the one thing that always got you on side was a little desperation.

He gets closer. Puts his hand on the back of your neck. Wonders if you can feel the pulse in his thumb, and how it's beating a mile a minute. Squeezes ever so gently. Whispers, "Please, C."

The bus stop is two minutes up the road. You know that you could make it there - and be on the next bus going anywhere - by the time Jungkook has finished distracting Kang. You don't need him to save you. You don't need his protection. His kindness.

Yet you hold out your hand. Take his keys, and say, "Please be quick."

All he can do is nod, because truthfully, he'll do whatever he can to get himself beside you again.

"I'll be as quick as I can be. Promise."

It's funny. He's broken every single promise he's ever made you. Strange of him to think it holds any merit, now.

Doesn't stop you from holding out your pinky, mind you. Also doesn't stop him from linking his with yours. Pretty little promise, wrapped up with a pink bow. All perfect and pristine, satin against skin.

At least it's not red, you think. Not this time.

You hear Jungkook greet Kang - "Hi! Didn't see you there. Was just about to leave! What can I do for you?" - and decide that the coast is clear. Glancing around, you make a beeline for Jungkook's obnoxiously bright tin can of a car.

You hate it. Hate it in the same way that teenagers hate their hometowns. No matter how much you want to run from it, you know it will always be the place you go back to.

But of course you will.

It's home.

Some say it's where the heart is.

And considering you've been without one ever since Jungkook left your apartment all those months ago, perhaps it's not a bad place to start looking for it.

As you approach the bright, siren-red car in the parking lot, Jungkook's keys sit snug in the palm of your hand.

The satin lanyard strap is a little worn through - a freebie from a car show he'd attended a few years ago - but is just as soft as it always has been.

There's comfort to be found in it, like a blanket from childhood, or the warmth of a heavy duvet after a long day. It's a comfort you haven't felt in Hoseok's bedding, nor in the childhood bedroom you're able to visit again now that you're back on cordial terms with your family. 

Jungkook had never smothered you. Not once. Not like a blanket nor a duvet could - and that's exactly why you kind of used to wish he would. You had craved the weight of his body; wanted your airwaves cut off by the very essence of everything he was. Deprivation had made you desperate.

Foolishly, it seems like not much has changed. Not much and everything all at once.

When you hook your fingers beneath the door handle, you can still feel the burn of his touch. In fact, your pinky finger almost feels numb. You hold it out a little, away from your other fingers. You want to preserve the feeling; lodge the sensation in your memories, embed it into your skin. Never wanna lose it, as if you have any choice in the matter. 

Sinking into the passenger seat (alternatively known as the closest thing you've ever had to a second home) it's the scent of his leather that hits you first. A little oaky. Well-aged. Cared for. Restored by a pair of rough hands that hand touched you with just as much gentle cautiousness, once upon a time.

It's details like these; his discipline when it comes to making sure his car is looked after - preserved - that let you know just how meticulous Jungkook is. Nothing he ever does is purely up to chance.  Luck isn't something that comes naturally to him. It's something he crafts. 

Like Rumplestiltskin, he'd spun gold from straw in the form of your relationship. None of it was real. Not really.

A few tears brim on your lashline and threaten to fall - but you've never taken well to threats. You wipe them away. Won't let him know that being back in a place that once felt so much like safety is scaring you half to death, now. 

It's a vow you've made to yourself: Jungkook will never know how he affects you. He won't see you cry. Will never know your skin is forever changed by his touch, numb to everything else but the tips of his fingers and the taste of his tongue against your own.

He'd lost the luxury of 'you' the very second he decided you were expendable. 

Shifting in your seat, you're acutely aware of the little changes that have been made in your absence. There's a new air freshener, but it smells just the same. Some sort of pine. Gas station staple.

There's no hairband around his gear stick, like you know there used to be. No receipts from GS25 in the cupholders, no dirt from your shoes in the footwells, no bottles of soju left to roll around in the back.

His car is void of all essence of you. 

The centre console - the old store for your snacks after late night shifts - is empty, save for a pair of silver-rimmed glasses.

They're large - clear lenses - and slightly more rounded than you'd expect of his taste, but the thick dark frame on top of them seems apt. You can't imagine him wearing them. Think it might be fatal. Decide you'd never like to find out.

When you flick down the sun visor to check yourself in the mirror, you almost miss it; the one relic of you.

Tucked in a small slip where his tax documents should be, is a photo strip. Taken in a beachside photobooth after a few too many drinks, you remember it well.

It's rough at the edges. Torn in half. Jungkook is gone, and yet you remain. 

The removal of himself from his own memories is stark. Confusing. Distressing. Forces you to focus on yourself; the smile that you know was caused by him tickling at your ribs, and the tattooed hand on the side of your face in the second picture, that you know for a fact was pulling you in for a kiss, even if you can't see it. 

In the photographs, your eyes are bright, despite the black-and-white filter (his pick). There's a stupid pastel purple frame around each one of the pictures, with miniature Kuromi's perched on the edges (your pick).

You wonder where the other half is. Decide you're better off not knowing, but don't have time to give it much thought though, for Jungkook's yanking at the drivers-side door, and asking for the keys before you even have a chance to flip the visor back up.

He looks at you - eyes jagged, jawline sharp - and lets his gaze fall to your hand, where the pictures sit pretty.

"That's still in here?" he sneers, as if it's a surprise; as if he doesn't look at it every time he stops by the river to breathe for a moment. Just like he didn't sit on the beach in Busan last month and set fire to the other half; watching himself disintegrate. "Keep it. I've got no use for it."

He holds his hand out for his keys, so you make sure to drop them just beyond his grasp and into his footwell. You know you're pressed for time, and that you really shouldn't be fucking about, but he's too much of an asshole, you decide. 

"Real fuckin' mature," he grumbles, pulling on the lever beneath his chair to push it back so he can reach down for them. There's silence as his posture restores and he sinks his key into the ignition. A spark lights in his engine, the exhaust roaring into action. He knocks the gear stick into reverse, and holds onto the headrest of your seat as he looks over his shoulder. Swings the car around. "Head down."

You do as you're told. 

It's mainly because you don't want to give him any more reason to snarl, but also because the quicker you do, the quicker you can just get the fuck out of his car.

It's claustrophobic now that he's sharing the space with you. You don't wanna breathe; don't wanna smell his aftershave. Don't wanna listen; don't wanna hear the way he mumbles to himself. Don't wanna look; don't wanna see his tattooed hand knock the gear stick into first, then straight up to third.

In fact, you'd quite like to stop existing altogether. 

Jungkook used to say how much he enjoyed it. Enjoyed existing with you. 

You hope it makes him feel fucking sick, now. 

"Just drop me at the end of the road," you say. "I'll make my way from there."

"End of the-" he scoffs, not even finishing his repetition of the question. He coasts around the corner, foot on the clutch. You wonder if he's exercising a complete lack of control on purpose. Wonder if he's baiting you. "That private school education of yours really didn't give you any street smarts did it, huh?"

He definitely is baiting you. There's no doubt about it. He's petty motherfucker when he wants to be - and you can be just as bad. You just can't decide on how you want to respond. 

Firing back would be the easy option. It's what he would expect. What he knows of you. 

Staying silent looks meek, you think. 

The final thing you consider is crying. Do you want to? Not really. You're more frustrated than you are sad. Thing is, he wouldn't expect it. Wouldn't know what to do. Would definitely make him freak out a little. Might even get him trying to make things better.

But you just can't bring yourself to do it. 

Instead, you laugh. Look straight ahead. "Baby, these streets are mine. We both know I'm untouchable."

His hard stare on the road intensifies. You're approaching the bridge. Neither of you want to speak, both too aware of the impact that first night had on your lives; how it planted a seed that turned out to be nothing more than a venus fucking fly trap. 

And yet Jungkook just can't help himself. He doesn't want to let you win.

It's pathetic, and he knows it. Knows that he's the one who fucked you over; that he's the one who did all of this. Knows that you've every right to be hurting, and every right to want him hurting, too.

But you're engaged, he fumes internally. Due to be married. Have committed your life to someone else, as if the time you had spent with Jungkook meant nothing. It's only been about four months since it all went to shit. He can barely look at the watermark he still hasn't cleaned off of his bathroom mirror. 

Lies were fed to you between his kisses, but every single one of those was real. He meant it every time he pressed his lips against yours; every time he told you he needed you in his sheets eternally.

He makes assumptions like you used to do. Thinks about your fiance. Assumes it's love. Has to be.

It's clear to him now that the feelings you pretended to have for him were always a lie. 

He doesn't understand why.

Sure, he knows why he lied to you. Knows that he filled your head with half-truths, and tiptoed around the facts of the situation, but he was always honest with how he felt. Never told you bullshit about wanting to keep you close. Meant every single word of it. 

But you didn't. It's obvious to him that your lies went beyond your family tree. Nobody likes a liar - not even the boy who cried wolf, himself. 

"Untouchable?" he smirks. It's cruel. Juvenile. "We both know that isn't true, don't we?"

"Haven't you heard, baby?" You simper, voice sweet a honey laced with rat poison. You hold up your hand, and wiggle your fingers. Light catches in the cut of your diamond. "I've got a ring. I'm untouchable in every sense of the word."

It stings. Almost like your diamond's encrusted on a dagger, and you've impaled it into his chest.

He doesn't look at you as he drives. Not like he used to. Doesn't throw you a single glance across the centre console, doesn't hold your knee nor your hand beneath his on the gear stick. Instead, his jaw remains taut, eyes ahead on an endless horizon that he hopes he never reaches. If he keeps driving forever, none of this has to end. 

For a little while longer, he can pretend. 

Pretend that things are as always as they were; that perhaps you've just had a small argument - over what to have for dinner or the way he'd rolled his eyes at a suggestion you had made - and that you'll crack a smile soon. He'll say something dumb, play your favourite song. Tell you he's sorry. Pull over, and refuse to drive until you hold his hand. 

But your hand has a ring on it now. He'd feel it lodged beneath his fingers. Would be indented with the mark of commitment from another man.

And that's what makes him crack. 

"Engaged," he laughs quietly, not an ounce of humour in his voice as he shakes his head. His eyes stay on the road. He can't look at you. Knows he wouldn't be able to look away.

You're silent for a moment. Consider not responding - but his tone bothers you. 

"Uh-huh. We've established that - but you've no right to pass judgement."

Jungkook doesn't want to pass judgement. He wants to be vulgar. 

Wants to remind you of the way you were taking his cock a matter of months ago. Wants to ask if your fiance hits the spot like he knows he used to. Wants to know if your body is still stained by the colour of his claim; rosy handprints on your ass, plum bruises on your chest left by his lips. Wants to know if it's his name that reverberates in your head when you bite onto pillows. Wants to know if your fiance even fucks you well enough to make you do that. He doubts it.

He doesn't want to know the answers to any of those, though.

"I'm not passing judgement, C," he says in perhaps the most judgemental tone you've veer heard, flicking his indicator to merge into the next lane. "What's the dress like? Can't be white, can it?"

Bastard.

"We're going traditional," you lie. It hasn't even been discussed yet.  You also don't plan on sticking around long enough to see it through to the big day, but that's none of Jungkook's business. "Hanboks only. No modern dress."

Funny, Jungkook thinks. Had never pictured you as the traditional type. Then again, never pictured you walking down the aisle with anyone but him.

Truth be told, it's not like he's ready for any of that. He's not good with the future. Not anymore. Moves from one bad decision to the next. No point in planning ahead.

He disregards the flashing amber light over the pedestrian crossing, narrowly missing it as it changes to red. His foot is on the gas, and he doesn't seem to be easing.  You adjust in your seat. Cross your legs. Hold onto the door handle. 

"Slow down."

The way he ignores you is childish, and the way he speeds up is even more so.

"Jungkook-"

"Don't tell me how to drive my own damn car," he snaps. 

"Then don't drive it like a fucking idiot!"

The tyres screech to a halt. You're almost certain you can smell burnt rubber.

Around you, the road is empty. You're just a few blocks over from the bridge, not far enough for the coast to be clear, and you both know it. There's silence. No static from his radio, no chatter of former lovers; just his engine, purring softly, echoing into the night.

Neon lights from the amalgamation of churches and noraebangs rain down on you through his windows, painting your skin in a red haze. The beam of his headlights on the road ahead is intrusive, decrepit buildings shown in all their miserable glory; paint peeling from the walls, rust forming beneath nails like tears on cheeks, railings covering windows to keep outdated electronics protected. You hate this area. Always have done. Can't believe you used to consider it home.

"Fine then," he snaps. "Get out. Walk yourself home. See what I care. Don't get hit."

He expects resistance. Expects you to defy him. It's what he wants. Wants you choosing to stay - but like fuck are you gonna let him speak to you like that.

It's so hard knowing what's false with Jungkook. 

Some days, you think it was all ingenuine; that you've never seen the real him. 

On others, you tell yourself that the version of Jungkook you'd first met on the bridge was a facade; that you'd worn him down. Seen within. 

Most days, though, you believe the version of Jungkook you'd met on that very first night is exactly who he is. 

Everything that followed? A carefully crafted performance for an audience of one.

And now it seems like he wants a standing ovation - and who are you to deny such a skilled actor his applause?

Yanking just hard enough to piss him off, you pop open your door and stand beside the car. Applause comes in form of his door slamming shut, and the click of your heels piercing the emptiness in the air as you walk up the sidewalk.

"Where are you going?" He shouts after you from his window - but you just hold your middle finger up in his direction and continue onwards. "C?"

You wouldn't tell him even if you knew. All you know is that you selfishly kind of hope he'll call after you again. He does. You smile to yourself, and ignore him. 

Cursing to himself in the driver's seat of his car, he revs the engine back up. 

There's a sinking feeling in your chest, but you're the one who put it there. 

Only have yourself to blame.

You choose not to watch as his car hurtles past you. The sound is soul-destroying enough as it is.

Jungkook takes a moment to consider his choices. The obvious is to let you go - but he's done that once before, and has hated it ever since. He knows chasing after you will only end in him chasing his own tail, but he's been doing that ever since you left, as it is. What difference will it make? At least this way he can say he tried.

He pulls into a side road.

Derelict and dilapidated, it's no place for a car like his - but then again nowhere in this city is. He sticks out like a sore thumb. None of the other Pony's are polished quite so well, no have been lowered like his. None of them rag about in the dark of night, only for him to fix his faux pas in the light of day the following morning. He'll never let it rust. Never let it falter. Never let it down; and in turn, it won't let him down either.

It will always take him exactly where he needs to be - and right now, he thinks it's beside you.

Slamming his door shut far gentler than you had, Jungkook pushes the key into its lock and twists it shut. He doesn't want to use the electric locks today. Feels like the only way to do things right is to go analogue. Old school.

Wishes there was a way he could go back in time with you, too.

His feet splash in the shallow puddles as he trundles back down the alley on foot, pulling the hood of his jacket over his head. He's still in his workout gear - a pair of joggers and some beat-up trainers - but doesn't care for keeping up appearances.

He waits as you approach. You notice him immediately, but make no acknowledgement of his presence. Just keep on walking. Even when he begins to walk alongside you, not a single word is spoken. Cars pass by, passengers gazing out of their windows at the strange pair walking side by side yet miles apart. 

You wonder if they make assumptions about you like you know would.

If you were to see yourself, you'd guess that you were angry. A couple in the midst of a fight but too far from home to go your separate ways, maybe. The way your arms are crossed definitely suggests ice to the relationship, but of what the relationship is, you don't think you'd be able to tell. Lovers? Friends? Enemies? All of the above?

You wonder if they'll make up a life for you both. Wonder if they'll resolve the argument they must think you're having. Consider that maybe in their mind, you get a happy ending.

Maybe your observers will be just as naive as you once were. A fool with a fragile heart who gave it to a man who didn't know his strength.

Or perhaps he did. Perhaps he just never cared if he were to break it.

Jeon Jungkook; a rebel with a cause, just without care.

Asshole, you think. Wind whips loose stands hair against your face, cold despite the heat of summer that has now arrived. A storm is coming this evening, but you don't plan on being around to see it.

It's a shame. You've been looking forward to it. Hoseok's away. Work retreat to Yeosu. Some sort of training programme. You had anticipated a night alone watching the raindrops sinking down his apartment window.

The idea of going 'home' right now doesn't appeal to you. 

Though when you come to think about it, home is standing next to you as you wait at a zebra crossing, waiting on a green light.

When green lights up the sky, you continue forward. Take a left a left when you reach the hospital. Walk seemingly without direction and yet there's only one place this road leads to. Jungkook knows it well. Isn't really sure what you're doing. Thinks you're playing some kind of joke.

And yet he doesn't speak up. Just follows. 

The sign of the KTX station lights up the walkway, the rattle of overground trains polluting the silence between you. There are only a few more services for the night, but it means that freight trains are gearing into action, and they're so much louder than the passenger trains.

As much as he might not know what you're doing, you don't know either. Haven't really thought any of this through. 

All you know is you just don't want to stop walking with him. 

You hate yourself for it. Hate how weak he makes you feel. Hate that he gets to be okay and just live his life after ruining yours. Maybe you're misplacing your blame. Know full well that you've made some bad decisions as of late. Would take them back if you could.

Jungkook is one of those bad decisions you wish you could undo. If only life came with a rewind button. Ctrl+Z. Reboot. Restore to factory settings. 

And yet the idea of not knowing him - the sound of his laugh in the early hours of a Sunday morning, the feel of his cheeks a few days post-shave, the pressure of his lips on the crown of your head - fills you with dread. You may hate the memories, but you don't want to lose them, either.

You know Daegu's KTX station well. Hanger left as you enter, straight towards the self-service kiosks. Pick one that accepts card, then rest your palms on the pale blue plastic casing of the machine. There's a touchscreen full of choices - endless opportunities - but Daegu's KTX autofill route is the only one that you care for. The only one that feels right. 

Busan.

You tap through to the next menu, ignoring Jungkook's presence beside you. You don't care what he does. Are only thinking about yourself. 

Funny, really. He's only thinking about you.

Jungkook knocks your hand to the side to stop you from pressing through to the transaction screen. He reaches over a little further. Presses the small plus sign next to 'passengers'. Says nothing as it jumps from '1' to '2'. 

You just watch as he clicks on through to the following screen, and slides his card into the slot that's flashing green at you. There's no conversation. No acknowledgement of what he's done; just acceptance. 

The machine spits out the tickets into a metal tray, so you take yours and turn on your heel, leaving him to collect his own. He can follow you if he likes. You won't wait for him. 

Realistically, it's not like you'll be apart for long. The assigned seats are side by side.

Of course, you could just leave. Buy a ticket elsewhere. Go home. Head down towards the subway and lose him in a sea of people.

The possibilities are endless.

Yet you find yourself checking the departure screen for train 071, instead. 

The menu flickers through the upcoming departures, before finally falling back to the screen 071 is on. Platform two, departing in four minutes. 

It's enough time to get to your track, but not enough time to run to your favourite coffee stand. You just sigh. Today is just disappointment after disappointment. 

Jungkook walks straight past you. Makes no acknowledgement of you. 

Just heads towards the exit for the tracks. Another sigh leaves your lips.

But you find yourself following him.

You're the one orbiting him, now.

And like the planets you're convinced rule your life, it doesn't feel like you can stop any time soon.

Your train is already on the platform by the time you make it down the stairs, quietly purring in its bay. Doing one final check of the platform, the conductor blows his whistle just as you're hopping on. 

Heading down the aisle, you're displeased to see the train is only half full, knowing it means your assigned seats will be beside one another - and once you reach carriage four, you can see the top of his head poking out from the row you've been allocated.

It's interesting how he's taken the aisle seat, when his ticket is for the window. Still, questioning it means engaging in conversation, and you're still pretending like he doesn't exist - to the point where you don't ask him to move. You just step over him, and cringe at the way you know your ass brushes the top of his knees from the awkward positioning.

If he were in a better mood, he'd smile, aware of your annoyance and the fact you're probably cursing out your own ass in your head.

But Jungkook is in a foul fucking mood, and all he wants to do is hold your goddamn hand. 

He knows can't. 

So he won't. 

He'll just sit, and stew, and lament the fact he's on a train to fucking Busan with you.

The jokes he knows he would have cracked six months ago are lost, now. There'll be no nonsensical conversations over who would die first in a zombie apocalypse, no dumb declarations from Jungkook about how he'd protect you no matter what.

Would have been a lie, anyway. 

In the row ahead of you, a teenage couple share a pair of headphones. 

Between the crack in the seats, you can see their heads leaning together, hairs melting into one another. The girl is peroxide blonde, but has dark roots growing through. It's a bit like Jungkook's hair used to be. Her (presumed) boyfriend has a streak of blonde peaking through his dark hair. She no doubt did it for him (again, you presume). The sight of it makes you feel sick.

Jungkook notices it too. Watches as the girl flicks through the boys playlist. Searches up a song he doesn't know, and presses play. When she locks the phone and puts it down on her boyfriends lap, she shuffles closer against him. Jungkook feels a little unwell, too.

The silence continues.

It's only 45 minutes to Busan. Not a long haul by any stretch of the imagination - and yet it feels endless this evening. When the train eventually rolls into his hometown, Jungkook thinks he's going crazy. Hates being alone with his brain. Hates that you hate being alone with him, too.

The hushed nature of your pairing prevails as you make your way onto the subway. Rammed full of late-night punters, you're forced to stand by the entryway. He stands behind you, and holds the bar that's over your head. Doesn't say sorry when the movements of the carriage cause him to lean against you slightly. He pulls away from you as quickly as he can, but you're surprised to find that you miss the weight of his body.

But of course you do. You've been missing it for months, now.

The subway trundles through underground tunnels, metal screeching every so often, more and more passengers departing - until it's just you and him. You take a seat, and so does he. You're opposite one another, eyes unashamed as you stare one another out. There's no trust. You're like cats, stalking their prey.

Or should that be you're like a cat. Jungkook is a lion. Could rip you to shreds if he wants. Has done it before. Your scars are barely healed. Can still feel him all over your skin. It's insidious. Makes you want to take a fucking potato peeler to your body, just to rid yourself of your memories.

The way he looks at you, all dark and brooding, like he's some kind of 90's heartthrob that never stood the test of time, makes your fingerprint-shaped scars burn.

You ride the subway until the very final stop; not because you wanted to, just because you were following his lead.

Stupid, really. He was following yours. Of course he was.

The static voice of the automated alert lets you know you've reached Dadaepo.

Jungkook knows it well. Was his favourite place to explore as a kid. A hidden rocky alcove just beyond the cliff walk was the site of many discoveries as a kid; sea glass, bugs he can't remember the names of, and - in his later years - the scent of marijuana.

The fact you're still giving one another the silent treatment is comically unbelievable. It's been upwards of two hours since his car door slammed shut back in Daegu. Even longer, actually. Closer to three hours.

There's something so childish about how petty you both are - but at least this way, you can't miscommunicate. 

You just don't communicate at all, and you think you prefer it that way.

The waves roll in as you sit, staring at nothing. Side by side. Miles apart. It all becomes a bit much for Jungkook. He knows he shouldn't make a sound, but he thinks he likes it better when you fight. At least that way he gets to hear your voice, no matter how scathing it can be.

"The last train back is in half an hour," Jungkook says quietly, unsure of how much time has passed. Dadaepo is fifty minutes away from the station. You'll have missed it, and are fully aware of it.

So you just shrug.

"Not have a fiancé to get home to?" He questions, and almost manages not to sound bitter. Almost.

Again, you shrug.

Hoseok is away for the week - an all-expenses training retreat over in Yeosu. 

When your Father had still been in the police force, before moving into local politics, he'd gone on the same training programme. It's a yearly excursion. Just an excuse to get shitfaced with his crew and a chance to slip his wedding ring into his wallet, knowing your mother would never find out.

She'd always know. She was the one who did his laundry, after all.

Unlike your mother, however, you won't spend the week in a foul mood because of it.

That's not to say you won't spend the week in a foul mood - it's just that the reason for your awful mood is currently sitting next to you looking over the East China Sea. 

"You should stop concerning yourself with my life," you tell him, voice quiet - but he hears you crystal clear, regardless. He's listening out for only you. Fuck the waves, fuck the dog walkers, fuck the traffic and the coffee shop soundtrack blaring just a few feet behind the woodland. You're the only one he hears.

He considers saying nothing, but just can't help himself - so he scoffs, and says, "shall I stop breathing, too, while I'm at it?"

It's a stupid comparison to make. His life doesn't depend on you. You tell him so.

"You need to breathe to stay alive. You never needed me to stay alive." 

Never needed me at all.

"I don't know, C. Kang was pretty pissed when we let you get away," he says as he purses his lips. It's a miracle his nose still looks the same as it always did - unless it just got broken so many times that it somehow snapped back into place.

Thing is, Jungkook's not really thinking about that. The pain subdued. After a few weeks, it was like it never happened.

But the ache in his chest remained. His one source of chronic pain, and you're the one who held the knife. Sure, he's the one who guided your hands. Pulled them into his chest. Inflicted it upon himself. 

"Your coworker," Jungkook finally sighs. He's not even sure why he's asking. He doesn't want the answer. "Is it... The ring. Is it him?"

And while you want to hurt Jungkook as much as you possibly can without laying a single finger on him, you know you've done Yoongi enough damage. Makes you sick thinking about his tender face; the way it'd light up around you. You think of Jieun, and the time spent together in the shop and it's so consuming that you can't even think of an appropriate response to Jungkook.

"Yoongi," you correct, but Jungkook already knew his name. Just didn't wanna acknowledge him as more than a meagre colleague. "No. It's not Yoongi."

But just for a night? It had been Yoongi. Or was it two nights? Your head taunts you. You fucked Yoongi. Fucked his life up. Fucked it all. Whatever becomes of you is what you deserve.

Jungkook is unaware of this as he clamps his lips together to stop the smile that's begging to break through his hard exterior.

"You ever..." You begin to mumble, but then realise who you're talking to. You don't want to converse with him. "Nevermind."

He knows this. Doesn't care. "Have I ever what?"

There's a moment of silence; waves lapping against the shoreline in place of your words.

"You ever do something that just destroys you?" 

Your words linger like the brief seconds waves will take to kiss the shoreline; white bubbles sinking into sand, murky water retracing its steps and dissolving into the currents.

"Destroys you?" he asks, not because he needs clarification, but because he can't possibly imagine what you've done.

You simply nod.

And so he takes a moment to think. Decides it's about time he gave you some honesty.

"Yeah," he says gently. Can see there's something you're grappling with. Doesn't want to intrude, though. "I've done things that have destroyed me, C. You know I have."

The silence resumes once more. It's louder now.

If you listen closely enough, you can hear that chime in your stomach again. It's faint. You ignore it.

Jungkook can hear it too. It rings and rings like tinnitus. He can't ignore it. He can pretend that he detests it, though.

Moonlight ripples on the surface of the water. It rolls into shore, then pulls away again. Gets just close enough to touch, but not far enough to soak your feet.

It runs away from you as soon as it gets close, and the irony isn't lost on Jungkook. He'd always thought you'd behaved like the moon and her tides, after all. Cyclic. Endless. Eternal.

It sort of feels apt that you'd end up back here.

Yeah, he thinks as he refuses to look in your direction. Too consumed with the way the vast expanse almost looks like a black hole. Just like the tides.

But waves can roll up on any beach, and the moon caresses every inch of the earth during her slumber. There's nothing unique about the pair of you. Nothing special. 

Insignificance has always been a fear of his. A life that could be chalked up to birth, then death; records in a library system forgotten about for years upon years. His impact? Null.

He'd seen it with his mother - her vibrancy, her love for life, for others - and how she'd all but been forgotten. Sometimes, he feels like he's the only one who remembers her.

Even his father seems to forget why he's in such a sorry state. His brother has a new family, now. And what does Jungkook have?

No family. That disintegrated. Yeah, they're still around, but they're not present. Not there for him when he needs them.

No career. Sure, he can get work wherever electricity is, but he's under Kang's thumb, now. He trains, and he fights. Time for honest work is non-existent.

No love. He's never been the type to need a relationship, but he'd gotten a little foolish. Gotten used to the comfort of another human. Now that he knows what it feels like - how nice it can be - he feels half alive without it.

The Jungkook beside you is just the same as the Jungkook you first met.

He's a little stronger, a little broader. Is missing a few of his piercings, and wears his hair dark now instead of the blonde you had always adored.

He's exactly the same, and yet forever changed.

He digs his fingers into the sand beside his thighs. The grains slip through the hollow gaps between his knuckles. Even the things within his grasp always seems to get away from him. 

He hates the silence. Hates that he never knows what to say anymore.

And thankfully for him, you hate it just as much. 

"Fighting a lot, these days, aren't you?" You ask, not that you need any clarification. You saw a note in one of Hoseok's files earlier on in the week. Just a small scrawl about Kang's, and the illegal gambling ring he's running. JJK had been written down, with a set of odds next to his name. Pretty good odds. Baby is a champion. You'd be proud, if the circumstances weren't so harrowing.

"Not any more so than usual," he lies, shutting down the conversation as soon as you start it. He just can't help himself. It's like he's hard-wired to fight.

You turn to look in his direction and are momentarily caught by how ethereal he looks when basking in silver moonlight. The tip of his nose looks cold, and yet his eyes are warm. Watery. Welcoming you to dive right in.

Sink, or swim?

He's got a bruise on the top of his cheekbone, and a small graze just in front of his ear. It's clear to see that he's been through the wringer recently. There's really no point in lying to you.

"No?" You ask, just to let him know you're aware he's full of shit.

"What does it matter if I am?"

"It doesn't."

And so silence settles again. Neither of you know how to interact with one another anymore. It's awkward and uncomfortable, and you both hate it - and yet there's nowhere either of you would rather be. No one else you'd rather be in discomfort with.

Time gets away from you. It chases through the night, just like his car used to do down the backroads of Daegu, with you in the passenger seat and your hand beneath his on the gear stick.

You wonder if he ever thinks of it; if he ever thinks of you in the same way you think of him. 

You don't ask him, because no matter what the answer will be, you'll convince yourself it's a lie.

Midnight creeps in, and so does the chill of night air. It may be summer, but the sea breeze can be biting at times.

Jungkook's fine - his workout gear is keeping the heat in well, but you're underdressed. Huddled up and clearly not enjoying yourself but refusing to voice discomfort, Jungkook is the one who forces you up. Says it's stupid to still be out by the water. Tells you that there will be loads of bugs about, soon.

You both know that the bugs have been out since dusk. Leaving now makes no difference.

Ignoring the hand he holds out as you get to your feet, you rid your legs of sand, and head towards the pathway through the small wooded area. 

Neither of you have any idea what to do. The keys in Jungkook's pockets are rendered useless, his car still down in a back alley of Daegu, and the buses have stopped running. Subway, too. 

You've no bag with you, just your phone (that's dangerously low on charge) and a card tucked into the back of the case. 

Jungkook's phone is new. Holds it's charge well. He's not worried about it.

He's got his wallet, too, so at least he's a little bit more foreign-city-ready than you'd been upon your decision to run off to Busan. He's glad he came with you, now.

He figures he'll just stay at his Dad's place - but it means getting a taxi, and he really can't be fucked with an hour's drive this late at night.

He's unaware that the card in the back of your phone isn't yours. It's under Hoseok's name. He gets a notification every time it's used. It's why you're so selective about how you spend your money. 

You've no ID with you, either. Left it in your purse back in Hoseok's apartment. Hadn't really expected to end up in Busan, in all honestly.

Especially not with Jungkook.

If you wanna check in to a hotel - which is the only option, really - you're gonna need your ID. Standard policy around these parts. No ID, no room.

You tell Jungkook this. 

He sighs. Grates his jaw a little. 

"And you didn't think that maybe it would be smart to take your ID out with you? What if you'd gotten in an accident, huh? No one would have known who to call, 'cause they wouldn't know who you are."

"I was hardly gonna get in an acci-"

"How do you know?" He cuts you off. "You can't plan these kinds of things, CC. Accidents just happen."

"Is that what this is, then?" You scoff, folding your arms over your chest as you walk a little further away from him up the sandy sidewalk. "Another calamity of yours? Just ended up here accidentally?"

Sometimes, he considers kissing you just to stop your from spouting off at him over nonsensical issues.

Jungkook thinks it's obvious he ended up in Busan for one reason, and one reason alone:

He'll follow you to the end of the earth, if it means he gets to be with you. 

He's hardly gonna tell you that, though, is he?

"Ended up here cause I missed the beach-" And I missed you, too. "- but it's late," Jungkook says as you meander back up the sidewalk without much aim, and nods across the road to a beachfront hotel. "Let's just crash here and figure out how to get home in the morning?"

For reasons you can't understand, you find yourself agreeing. When you explain that you can't use your card, he shrugs. Says he'll cover it. Says he doesn't care. 

It's a different story when you're in the hotel. 

The presence of the concierge makes you feel unsure of yourself. Reminds you of how embarrassed you are by what Jungkook did to you; how foolish you had felt. You feel the need to defend yourself.

"Do you have any suites available?" You ask the concierge with a smile so sweet it could rot his inside. He thinks you're sweet. Thinks Jungkook should smile more. Knows he'd be smiling if he had you alone in a hotel room.

"All booked out, I'm afraid," the concierge says as he checks the screen in front of him. The glare reflects in his glasses, and you wonder how many times he's been caught out looking at things he shouldn't. Not just at work, but in general. He seems like a sweet kid - but a kid nonetheless.

"What's the most expensive room you have available, then?" You query instead.

Jungkook shakes his head. Looks at his feet. Tenses his jaw. Thinks you're fucking unbelievable.

You know he's got money problems. Know he's fending off sharks from his poor Father's back. Know that the only reason he fucked you over was to finally have a decent payday.

And yet you choose to do this? Knowing he won't kick up a fuss in public?

Spineless bitch. Spiteful. 

But, oh, how you love to hit him where it hurts.

The concierge is none the wiser of Jungkook's discomfort. Tells you both that there's a deluxe sea-view room left.

"It's gone midnight, so I can give you a discounted rate," he says, and still quotes a price that would make even a black card owner raise an eyebrow.

Jungkook looks at you. Holds your gaze. Passes over his card. Waits till the concierge is retrieving your keys to hiss, "you're the most expensive mistake I've ever made."

You just smile. "Shouldn't live life with regrets. They give you wrinkles."

"And stress gives you grey hair," he counters, insinuating that you've got some growing through. The concierge returns to his position behind the desk, so Jungkook plays his role up. "You been stressed lately, baby?"

The concierge coughs. Holds out your key. "Seventh floor. Follow the corridor from the elevator right to the end, and you'll find room number one." Jungkook takes the key with a polite nod. "If you need anything else, the front desk is open twenty-four hours. I do hope you enjoy your stay."

The tension between you and Jungkook is palpable. The little routine you've cooked up in which neither of you speak unless it's to bait each other out continues. Doesn't end until you're in the room - and what a fucking room it is. 

Crisp white sheets on a bed that is far too big; a bathtub in the corner of the room instead of the bathroom. Huge windows that let the midnight view of the ocean pour in, and chiffon curtains that will keep you hidden from the outside world. You won't close the blinds. Will want the morning sunlight to bathe you in its glory; make you feel like you belong to the days instead of the nights. 

So much of your relationship with Jungkook was hidden in the shadows of Daegu nights, but it had been different in Busan. It's hard to pretend as if you don't miss it.

Hard, but not impossible.

You toss him a pillow and the stiff cotton throw from the end of the bed. "Here. The bathtub looks cosy. Sweet dreams."

"I'm not sleeping in the fucking bath," he laughs, but it's full of scorn. He finds no humour in this situation. "If I pay for a hotel room, I'm sleeping in the bed. Bath is all yours."

And yet you stay put.

When Jungkook turns off the main light? You stay put.

When he grasps the back of his sweater and pulls it over his head? You stay put.

When he says, 'No? Not fancy the bath?' as he tosses the pillow you had thrown at him back onto the empty side of the bed? You stay put.

When he walks around to that side? When he pushes the duvet back? When his weight dents the mattress? The scent of his aftershave intrudes on your senses? The sound of his bare skin nestling into the sheets is all you can hear? When he turns his back to you? Turns off the bedside lamp?

You stay fucking put.

And you know you shouldn't, and know that this is all kinds of wrong, but my god, it's all you've wanted for months: the past. All that's missing is your arm looped over his waist.

When he turns to face you? Looks at you, eyes all glassy, lips pursed? Tries to get a read on you?

You don't move a muscle. Just look at him right back. Wonder how he can still look so beautiful in such darkness. Wonder if his hair always spilt onto the pillow as it does now, and you'd just never realised when he was blonde. 

And then you wonder if maybe someone else had been in this position with him during your absence. 

It would be okay if they have. Wouldn't be their fault. Wouldn't be his, either. You're the one who left. Have a ring around your finger, now, no matter how loosely. Would be incredibly unfair to expect Jungkook to spend the last few months alone.

But the more you think about it, the more you get caught up in your own head, and how he'd kissed you beneath his shower, skin coated in red dye. Has you thinking about the way he'd always kiss you as he came, and the 'forever's he'd whispered in the dark of night. 

So fucking cruel of him. He always knew that forever wasn't an option. There was no reason he had to pretend there was.

And maybe you're just tired, or maybe you've just been keeping it all bottled up for so long that the pressure had finally reached full capacity, but you just can't help yourself as you say, "why couldn't you just leave me alone?"

Your brows furrow. Lips pout. You know what's coming and you can't even be bothered to stop the tears. Maybe he should know how badly he affected you. Maybe it's the only way he'll understand. Maybe then he'll care.

For now, you can't bring yourself to think too hard. You just let the tears fall.

"C'mon, C," Jungkook whispers as his thumb strokes over your cheek. His hands are a little rough. He's been working on his car a lot lately, and hasn't taken time to look after himself, instead. It's self-sabotage. Thinks he doesn't deserve to feel good. Physically, mentally, whatever. "This isn't you."

Oh, it's laughable. Hilarious, you think, that he seems to think he knows who the fuck you are. You wanna scream. Wanna tell him that he knows fuck all. Tell him that you never let him see even an ounce of what makes you 'you'.

Denial is a strange thing. Has you lying to yourself like it's a bible oath. Jeon Jungkook knows exactly who you are. You just wish that he didn't.

"You've no idea who I am," you whisper back through partially gritted teeth, that are stopping your sobs from leaking through.

Jungkook purses his lips together. Shakes his head. Strokes away another tear. Is almost silent when manages to croak out, "I wish that were true." 

And you might be wrong, but it sounds like he's holding back a tear or two, as well. 

You reach over to toy with the key around his neck. It's warm in your fingers, the heat of his skin keeping it cosy. It's amazing how warm he always is, you think. Never met anyone like it. When your eyes flick up to his, ever so briefly, you notice that they seem warm, too. Just a byproduct of his body temperature, you decide. 

"Why coke?" You whisper as you bring the key to your lips. Press it against them, just to feel the pressure of something that belongs to him.

He'd kiss you now, if you asked him to.

But you won't, so he doesn't. 

He just shrugs instead. 

"Why do we do anything of the things we do, C?" He pauses, but doesn't anticipate a response from you. Just continues, instead. "To feel alive? To feel closer to death? I don't know."

Lost one drug, he thinks to himself. It's just a replacement. 

And it's funny, because aside from the lines he'd snorted on the first night you'd returned just to fucking cope with it all, he's not touched it. Thinks if he could just touch you, he'd never go near coke again. 

You hold the key to his lips, now. Wait for him to press his lips against it. He does so, keeping his eyes locked on yours. Funny. Seems the key works on something, after all.

When you pull the key away, you let the chain hang slack, before dropping it to his chest. The ridges of the metal are sharp against his skin, but he's numb to it. Can only feel the print of your fingertips and the scars that are embedded into his skin from them.

"You should stop," you whisper, stroking down the bridge of his nose with the side of your index finger. His eyes close. Jaw tenses. He inhales. "It'll ruin this pretty nose of yours."

And then he smiles; eyes still closed, lip ring flipping in the corner of his mouth. 

But the tepid movement of your finger doesn't stop. It reaches the tip of his nose. Trails down his septum. Encroaches on his cupid bow - and then it comes to rest on his lips.

Just like the key, he presses against it. Kisses the side of your finger. Keeps his eyes closed. Lets it linger. 

He hears the change in your breathing. How you inhale a little sharper than before. How it sounds painful. 

Doesn't wanna open his eyes. Doesn't want to look at you, knowing that you'll probably look so tragically hurt that it would be captivating, in a way. He'd wanna kiss it all better, but knows better than to attempt such a thing. 

"I don't think I can, C," he eventually says. Opens his eyes. Is devastated by your beauty. "Don't think I'll ever be able to stop."

You both know he isn't talking about coke.

"Then it'll ruin you," you whisper, pretending as if you still are.

He just nods. "So let it."

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #throttle #jungkook fluff #angst #smut #jungkook

[sebstan2020]

Repaying The Debt

Chapter 3

Violet Williams, a typical rich daddy's girl who did nothing but spend his money and hang our with her girlfriends. Her life couldn't be better. But that all changes when her father gets in trouble with New Yorks biggest and most ruthless mob boss, James Barnes and she finds herself repaying the debt of her father.

James paced around in his office, his phone glued to his ear and his other hand buried deep in his pocket. His crisp, black, polished shoes scuffed the carpet slightly as he paced, listening to the never-ending ring on the other end. His patient's skin was slowly getting thinner the longer it went on. Finally, a voice replied to him, shaky and nervous, and he instantly smirked.

John Williams had a right to be nervous. His daughter has just been kidnapped, and he is in a whole lot of trouble. It didn't take much for James to put fear in someone, and John certainly was fearing for not only his life but also Violet's. He knew this would happen sooner or later; James had warned him so many times, and yet he carried on thinking he was the big dog; he was going to come out on top because he works for the government and he can get whatever he wants. He clearly didn't know the full extent of James Barnes's power.

"John, finally decided to pick up," James slightly grumbled as he took a seat on the plush sofa to the side of the office. His office was huge, with dim lighting creating a dark atmosphere and tension in the air. His rich colony flooded the room, giving off power and seduction. The fine pieces of furniture blended in with the colours of dark magohany and burgandy, with the gold accents adding a touch of class. James folded his long leg over the other, his hand resting on his knee, the glint of his ring from the sutble lights.

He was a man of money, power, and dominance. a man who could get anything he wanted with but a look of his eyes. Growing up in the family business, he always knew he wanted to be on top, in control, and have power over something as big as a city. Now he had it. passed down from his father, he earned the right to call himself the most dangerous man in New York. No one dared to cross him, not even the police. Like he said, they work for him. All they care about is a couple of extra bucks here and there, and he'd happily throw them a wad of cash to cover up their illegal doings. His power in this city was no match for anything else.

people feared by just by name. You wouldn't want to get into business with a man like James unless you knew what you were doing, and most people didn't. He had to set an example for himself. If people didn't take him seriously, they would walk all over him like a piece of gum stuck to the floor, constantly being trudded on without a care. No, he wasn't going to let that happen, not on his watch. He could pretty much get away with anything—murder, assault, smuggling, you name it. There was nothing James Barnes couldn't do.

Kidnapping daughters from fathers who don't pay him back on time was another one. It was a fair deal. Until he was paid back in full, he needed some leverage and something to give some motivation to this waste of space people call a congressman, and what better than for it to be his daughter? Something he would take seriously. It wasn't the first time he had done it.

Leila was her name. She was a sweet old thing, young, beautiful, shy, and a Christian by heart. She never did a bad thing in her entire life. She was unfortunate to have a drunk father with an addiction to pills. With only a small-paying job at a gas station, he barely earned enough for them to stay afloat, so he turned his troubles to James, hoping for a small loan to get them by. Of course, he wasted the entire amount on booze and drugs, and yet his sweet, loving daughter would go home every night and tuck him into bed while he was passed out, normally in a pile of his own vomit, and would say a little prayer for Daddy. In James's eyes, he was doing her a favour.

Nonetheless, a deal had been made and was broken, and James wasn't going to let him get away with it. If he truly cared about his daughter, he'd shape himself up and stop wasting his life on feeling high every night. It took nine months for the guy to pay him back in full, and he released her back into society, though, in his opinion, she would have been better off staying with him than going back to that drunk. But he kept his promise.

He could hear the husky breath of John on the other end, pacing back and forth and running a shaky hand through his greasy hair as big bags were looming under his eyes. It didn't take long for word to travel to him that his daughter had been kidnapped, and he wasn't a complete idiot; he knew it was from the hands of James Barnes; who else would it be?

"Is she okay?" he asked, and James chuckled. Of course, they always make demands.

"She's fine, and she will continue to be fine as long as you get me my money," James said simply. It couldn't be more simple than that. Get him the money, and his daughter will be free to go.

"Look, I don't have it all right now," John said in a fluster, and James rolled his eyes. Of course he didn't; this man was useless. How he ever got into government james would never be known.

"I'm happy to take monthly payments... but you know, the longer it takes to pay me back, the more I'll keep adding on," he threatened, and John sighed.

"Please, just give me so much time and i-ll-.".

"I've already given you plenty of time, John. What do you think I am? I told you from the start that you had six months to pay me back; otherwise, I'll be taking something as collateral," James argued, his frustration growing with every second of having to talk to this stupid fucker.

"Yes, I know, but I haven't been able to get it; money is tight at the moment with the government.".

"I really don't give a fuck about you, the government, or how tight your money is, John. You entered into an agreement with me, signed it, and now you're going to pay the consequences.".

John went silent, and James was pleased. It sounded like he was actually starting to listen to James now and take this seriously.

"You know who I am, right? I could have the FBI on you in minutes if I wanted to," Kohn tried to threaten, and James replied with a laugh, throwing his head back and shaking his head.

"You think the FBI is going to stop me? I'm sure you wouldn't want the rest of your team to know what a sleeze you are. I'm sure they wouldn't want to know that their fellow congressman was blowing their money away on strippers and losing at poker. Let's not play this game, John; don't be a fucking moron. and I'm sure you wouldn't want your daughter to know what kind of person you are.".

John went silent, and he took a shaky breath. james smirked. James had him wrapped around his finger, and he was enjoying it.

"Just please don't hurt her," she whimpered.

"As long as she behaves herself, I have to say you have a very fiesty daughter, not what I was expecting, and she's very beautiful." John groaned on the other end, wanting to come up there and punch him square in the face. James could tell he was getting riled up, and he chuckled evilly.

"I want the first payment at the end of this month. I'll send my guys round if you want to do cash; otherwise, you know what to do," and with that, he hung up the phone, dropping it on his leg.

This was going to be interesting. He imagined his daughter to be very shy, sweet, and kind, and from the small amount of time he had spent with her, he had come to learn she really was just a spoiled brat. Looking through her bag, purse, and phone, she led nothing but a life of shopping, spending money, and doing nothing. She certainly had an attitude about her, which he slightly enjoyed playing with. In fact, he imagined he could have a lot of fun with her.

Growing up the way he did, his parents taught him that things were to be earned. money was to be earned. Granted, his money came from smuggling drugs and weapons and lending out loans, but he still earned that money through work. Violet earned her money by asking her dad for it and spending it in seconds. She certainly could teach her a thing about earning.

James was a man who liked to be in control—in control of women, to be exact. He got off on the thought of taking charge and control, ordering them what to do, and having them serve him from their knees as if he were their master. If they misbehaved, then they would be punished. If they behaved, then they would be rewarded. He'd never let a woman take control of him; there's no way in hell.

And yet something inside him was trying to teach that little brat a few manners, a few pleases, and thank you, sir, to respect those around her. Yes, he could tell this was going to be an interesting one. It won’t be long until she kicks up a fuss down there in her little room, kicking and screaming to be released.

If there was one thing about James, it was that he would never give in. She could kick and scream and beg and plead for all she wanted, and he still turned around and said no. If she thought she was going to have any control in this situation, then she was dead wrong. He was in full control, and she was going to have to learn that.

Chapter 4

Hey I hope you like this chapter, let me know what you think in the comments

@charmed-asylum

@pattiemac1

@thischubbydumpling

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mrs-bucky-barnes-73

@kandis-mom

@skulliecadaver-blog

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan fanfiction #bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #sebastian stan smut #bucky barnes fanficiton #bucky barnes smut #mafia Bucky barnes #mob boss Bucky barnes #Dom Bucky barnes

[dragon-queen21]

Straw-hats as Caregivers

requested by a very kind anon <3

My attempt at doing a sort of 'reader insert' type thing. Please spare mercy on me, for I know not what I am doing /lh Oh also, bit of a trigger warning for a couple of mentions of vent regression. Nothing to bad though

~~~

Sanji:

~Sanji would be great at playing pretend. Setting up a fake restaurant, going on a grand make believe adventures!

~If you regressed on the older side he would definitely teach you how to cook. Though he'd be very unsure about letting you into his kitchen if you were too small

~He would be the first to know when your sippy cup needs to be refilled, and each time he’d have a different drink for you to try.

~The type of caregiver to make airplane noises when feeding you and set out an extra plate for your stuffed animal to enjoy as well.

Zoro:

~Zoro would let you sit on top of his shoulders, or carry you around piggy back style. He thinks of it as extra training, you think of it as pure fun

~He'd give you little gifts now and again seemingly at random, with things that he think you might like when small. For example a small pocket sized stuffed animal that he saw on a display, a type of candy he thinks you might be interested in trying, or a pacifier that just happened to be your favorite color.

~You can't tell me he wouldn't enforce nap time. The greatest swords man has no time to deal with overtired and fussy little one when the problem can be so easily avoided by a power nap. Weather or not you agree with this depends on the day

Nami:

~If anyone asked, Nami would say that she is clearly the best caregiver in the world. She has everything under control, thank you very much. Anyone who thinks differently can expect a 20% increase in the debt that they owe her.

~Gives off the vibes of a very cheeky older sister

~A very soft spot for little you. If there’s something you want she’s going to do everything in her power to get it for you.

~She’d be surprisingly sweet and understanding when it comes to you vent regressing. While she’s not the best at comforting people, she does sympathize with the feeling of being overwhelmed, and through pure will power and determination she does her absolute best to cheer you up.

Usopp:

~He'd make a bunch of props for playing make believe with. Foam swords and paper crowns, treasure maps, and of course miniatures for any of your stuffed animals so they can play along

~Usopp would make up the best treasure hunts for you to partake in. With elaborate riddles and a fun prize at the end!

~Him and Luffy would definitely rope you into shenanigans when the two of them are regressed

Luffy:

~He would easily remember each one of your stuffed animals names, along with anything special about them. Treating each one as a special nakama whenever you’re regressed.

~The type of older sibling esc caregiver who would waiting until the adults are busy so that you two could get into mischief together.

~Helps you to come up with new made up games. Something that would confuse the rest of the crew if they weren't there at the time when it was being created.

~He’d have a hard time understanding vent regression. He gets being starting out happy then getting triggered by something and feeling bad, but not regressing from the get go and feeling sad.

Robin:

~Her specialty would be looking after little ones that regress super young. Being able to care and dote over someone would be super soothing for her

~ The rest of the crew refer to her as mama bird taking care of her baby bird

~She’d pick up picture book versions of all the things that she’s studying do that you can read along with her

~Not the best at playing along with your imagination. Too stuck up with the actual details and rules to play make believe.

Chopper:

~Chopper would probably know what age regression is way before you ever told him. Something that he read into while studying at some point in time. He knows enough about regression to know possible triggers , the difference between vent regression and regularly being regressed.

~He’s gotten used to being a cuddle buddy whenever your regressed. It gives him a viable excuse to take a break from his work and join in on nap time

-If you had a nightmare Chopper would do his best to comfort you and get you back to sleep. He’d offer to listen to what it was you dreamt about, although he’d probably get upset as well, in that case he’ll take your hand and the two of you will go and find another straw-hat (probably Zoro) for you to talk to

~He would love to play a bunch of different outdoor games. Things hopscotch, tag, hide and seek

#mayliz rambles #fandom agere #age regression #sfw agere #age regression headcanons #anime agere #one piece agere #agere headcanons #agere little #agere caregiver #I didn’t write franky because I have yet to meet him where I am at in the anime

[doe-eyed-fool]

Fallen {Chapter Twelve}

Alastor x (fem)Reader

Angel walked over to his bed and sat down, still not looking at me. I stood awkwardly a few feet away from his door, unsure of what to say. I look at Angel, he held himself with a mixture of anger and a sadden on his face. The only thing that broke the silence was little snorts and oinks from his pet pig, Fat Nuggets.

He waddles up to Angel and nudges his leg with his nose. Angel picks him up and pets his head with a slight smile. "How long have you had him?" I ask. Angel finally looks at me. "A long time." He tells me. "He's gotten me through a lot of tough shit." Fat Nuggets snorts and licks Angel's hand.

I smile softly. "He's a good pig." Angel chuckles and nods. "He is." Angel then pats the space on the bed next to him. "Come on." I walk to the bed and sit down. After a minute or two I finally gained the nerve to ask. "So...Is everything ok?" Angel stopped petting Fat Nuggets for a second before continuing. "No not really." He says under his breath.

"Does it have to do with that?" I say, pointing at my head where the bruise was on his. Angel freezes. "Fuck, I thought I covered it." He places a hand on the bruise, wincing slightly as he made contact with it.

"What happened? If you don't mind to talk about it." Angel sighs heavily. "Remember when I told you my boss is a dick?" Oh...I see. I look down at my hands in my lap. "I'm sorry Angel." Angel shrugs. "I'm use to it." I look back at him. "You shouldn't be. You shouldn't be getting hit at all." I tell him firmly. I'd be a fool to ask why wouldn't he just quit. But I knew in his line of work, quitting wasn't an option. Which only made his situation all the more heartbreaking.

"Fucker took almost all of the money I made last night too, just to add insult to injury." Angel says angrily. "What I would give to give that asshole a piece of my mind." I place my hand on his, he flinched before relaxing slowly. "I wouldn't mind giving him a piece of my mind either." I tell him honestly.

Angel chuckled weakly. "Eh, what can you do? I knew what I was getting into when I first met the bastard. No point in trying to change things."

"Why not? I understanding leaving isn't an option but...Can't Charlie help you at all? He's an overlord, but Charlie is royalty, he'd have to listen to her." Angel's feint smile dropped, his expression becoming more serious. "No way. I ain't getting no one involved in this." I blink in surprise. "But Angel-"

"I mean it. Do not tell Charlie. Or anyone else at that." Angel says firmly. I sigh and nod my head. I hated to agree though, I didn't want to see Angel get hurt like this anymore.

Angel might have been a bit rash and cruel sometimes, but once you got to know him, he wasn't half bad. And he certainly didn't deserve to be treated in such a way. Angel then sighed before wiping his puffy eyes. "Alright. Enough with this pity party." He stands up from the bed and set Fat Nuggets down.

"I need to do something to take my mind off of that dickhead for a while." He walks over to his closet and sorts through some of the various outfits he had. "I think I'll call up Cherri and go shopping. It's been a minute since we went out together." I couldn't help but wonder who Cherri was.

Angel pulled out a short black skirt along with a matching tube top, as well as some thigh high socks and high heels. "You wanna come along?" He asks as he turns to me. "Huh?" I tilt my head. "I haven't see you leave this hotel since you got here. Don't you want to get out for a while?"

"Uh, I would but..." I trailed off. Angel waited for my excuse. "I don't think it would be a good idea for me to leave here at the moment." I tell him. Angel raised an eyebrow. "Why not?" He asked. "Well, Alastor said-"

"And stop right there." Angel cuts me off. "You're letting smiles tell you what to do now? I get you two are close and shit but still. He's not in charge of you."

"I know that, but he said I should stay here. I think he's concerned for my safety." I say, half lying. Angel rolls his eyes. "Oh please. You'll be fine. Besides, you're gonna be with me and Cherri. Nothing's gonna happen to ya." I take a minute to think about it.

If what Alastor said was true, Vox might pull something in order to harm me in some way. "Aaaand, it would make me feel better if you came along." Angel says with a smirk.

I cross my arms. "That's not how you get people to do things for you." I say with a playful smile. "Come ooooon! It'll be fine! Please?" I shake my head. "Ok fine. But only for a little while." Angel's smile brightens. "Great! Step out for a sec so I can change and I'll be right out."

I do as he says and walked out of the room to give him some privacy. After a few minutes Angel steps out of his room, and we were off.

Later we show up at the front of the mall, I was shocked to see just how huge this mall was. It was the biggest mall I've ever seen, having at least 12 floors. And of course, it had that special hell touch to it. "There she is." Angel says as he spots his friend Cherri.

She was a pale white demon with one eye in the center of her face. Her hair was wild, and she had hot pink tattoos littered here and there. "Come on." He takes me along. Cherri noticed him and a wide grin fell onto her face. "Heya Angie!" She greets him. "Who's your friend?"

"Hey Sugar Tits. This is Y/n, she's new to the hotel. I wanted to get her out of that place for a while, hope it's ok that she tags along." Cherri shrugs. "If you're cool with her, so am I." Angel, Cherri, and I walked into the mall.

We spent a good few hours going to different stores and trying on all sorts of clothes. Cherri and Angel were really close friends, there were points where I felt a little left out. However, it was quickly dismissed when Cherri would focus on me. She was actually pretty nice. Wild. But nice.

"Oh! Y/n, let's go in there. That place has some really cute clothes, I just know they'll look great on you!" Cherri says as she takes my hand and leads me inside a shop.

I was in need of some new clothes, so this was nice. I tried to gently reject any suggestion of revealing or skimpy clothing, however. But, luckily, Cherri and Angel, had great taste in clothes.

I was able to find plenty of new outfits, though I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about them paying for it all. For sinners, they really could be very sweet.

I made sure to thank them before we all left the store, we headed to a few more places inside the mall, and even grabbed a bite to eat, before finally leaving and making our way back to the hotel.

However, we were suddenly confronted by a group of dangerous looking demons...

(lol sorry this one was short)

#alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel angel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin angel #cherri bomb #hazbin hotel cherri bomb #hazbin hotel cherri #hazbin cherri

[youlikefanficdontyousquidward]

Imagine Lyle’s human SO’s first time riding him (not first time together just the first time she’s on top) and she’s trying really hard to rush getting him in her but with the size difference it’s difficult, normally he’s on top and gives plenty of foreplay and warm ups and fingering etc, sees how hard she’s trying and says “easy girl, easy”, kisses “you’re going to hurt yourself”, kisses “slow down baby, I’m not going anywhere”, kisses, in a deep husky whisper holding her face

yesssss! Giggling and kickin my feet at this! Was going to keep for recom week but too excited to share this one.

RecomLyle x FemHumanReader

He was just so big. Literally everything about him was so big compared to you. Your neck craned to talk as you jogged to keep up with his long strides. Your arm held up so high just holding a couple fingers of his huge hand. His big mouth kissing at your chest as you struggled to even straddle him without your thighs burning.

You were certain he could fit your whole breast his mouth. The only reason he'd likely not was because of the slap it'd earn him. Still you were trying really hard today to be sexy. It'd worked so well, Lyle was always eager with you but today he was ravenous.

You'd worn your favourite set and a loose blouse to show it off that day. You loved the way his ears twitched and followed the sound of your heals. He was still turned at attention but they followed your movements behind him. You pretended to be working, filing things away.

Then he was dismissed and over to you like a shot. He leaned in against the wall, slumping down to bring his face closer to talk. You didn't miss the way his eyes kept darting to your chest, he had a pretty good view down your top.

Still you knew your audience and the next move would do it. You hummed a response before picking up a folder and turning around. You bent at the waist, pulling the low drawer open and flitting about in there. The effect was instant, hands already gripping your waist, moving to knead the pump flesh. Your too short skirt riding up flashing the lacy underwear and garter belt holding your stockings up.

"We gotta go. Now." Lyle breathed out.

He'd let you have the control you craved. Letting you push him back onto the bed (no way that shove actually made him fall.) Then you'd crawled up onto him, loving the way his pupils dilated at your sultry movements.

Now here you sat, hovering above him, trying so hard to just will him in. You breathed unsteadily, it wasn't the first time, far from it but it was your first on top. He'd made it seem so easy, despite the girth he slipped in so pleasantly.

You pressed yourself down, hissing out at the stretch. You pushed further, barley over the head but the sting was becoming too much. You whimpered at the pain, it wasn't like you weren't wet. God just thinking about it all day should've had you ready by now.

"Easy girl, easy" Lyle whispered, his hands shifting up your thighs to your hip. He sat up and stilled you, gripping the soft skin. He pulled himself out with a pop. You whined trying to press yourself back down again.

"I can take it baby, please?" You mewled. Lyle smiled, pulling you against his chest. Your hands rested on his firm shoulders, shuddering under his roaming palms. He kneaded your breast, lips pressing against your own.

You moaned against his mouth as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. His fangs gently nipping your lip. He pulled away, hooded eyes admiring you. You pushed your hips back, feeling his length against the curve of your ass. His breath stuttered, hands running back down to grip your hips.

You moved to shift back up again, to try slide down his cock but his hands remained firm.

“You’re going to hurt yourself” He cooed, leaning forward to nip love bites against your collar. You wriggled in his grip, trying to grind back against his twitching length. Surely he was just a desperate as you were, wouldn't he get bored.

As if feeling your worries Lyle stilled a second. His hands came up to cup your cheeks, smiling lazily at you. He leaned in to kiss you again, slowly, before shifting up your cheek pecking his way to your ear.

“Slow down baby, I’m not going anywhere” He let out a husky whisper in your ear. The vibrations of his chest shivering through you. He pulled back to meet your eyes, you nodded at him, resigning to taking things slow.

"I got an idea!" Lyle smirked before his hands scooped you up under the armpits. You squealed dangling in the air as he shifted his body lower.

Looking down Lyle smirked up at you, before dropping you on his face.

#lyle wainfleet #avatar imagine #lyle wainfleet x reader #asks #requests #recoms #size difference #my fics

[tojigasm]

hiii Sam! Would you ever think about writing angst about Toji getting a tiny little bit insecure about the age gap? Despite him being very confident in his age do you think he’d ever feel insecure about it? Especially after getting mistaken by her dad that one time 🥺 anyway it’s ok if not feel free to completely ignore this! Love your work! The way you write Toji is soooo perfect!

Here u go anon <33 I hope u enjoy 💞

Cw: fluff, angst, toji being a lil insecure, age gap, cussing, pet names, can be read as a second part to this

♡ 9 times out of 10 Toji's gonna give less than two shits about what someone has to say in regard to your relationship

♡ but there are those moments that linger in the back of his mind, making him question whether or not the really deserves you - or if you're deserving of better than his cranky old ass

♡ ever since the incident at the bar, Toji had been somewhat distant from you in public settings - almost as if he'd expected another person to mistake him for your father again and would rather save himself the embarrassment

♡ He thought he was being sly about it or that you were unaware of the lingering insecurities towards the incident, but you knew.

♡ You just didn't know to convince him that the guy who approached the two of you at the bar was a complete moron.

♡ "Toji?" You called him from your seat in the living room, relieving a short "yeah?" Coming from his office

♡ "Can you c'mere real quick, please?" You picked at the sleeve of your shirt nervously.

♡ a few seconds passed before you watched him make his way around the corner and sit down beside you on the couch, throwing his arm over the top of the cushions as he relaxed.

♡ "Can I talk to you about something?"

♡ Toji's brows furrowed at that, sitting up straight, he slid your hand into his.

♡ "you okay?" His voice was filled with worry and the heat of his palm wrapped around your own made your heart swell and your rushed to pull his hand up, pressing a miss to his knuckles gently.

♡ "i..." you struggled to find the right words, eyes falling to your lap before meeting his worried ones again, "Toji... do i.... are you embarrassed by our relationship?"

♡ the silence that followed after made you wriggle uncomfortably, looking anywhere but the man's now narrowed eyes

♡ "I'm just asking becau-"

♡ "you fuckin' serious right now?" Toji leaned back into the couch with an airy scoff, running a hand over his jaw

♡ you could only nod, looking to your palms in your lap, "you've just been so distant ever since that idiot at the bar came up to us and I just-" you sighed, "I dunno, I just don't want you to feel like you gotta' stay with me if it makes you uncomfortable."

♡ Toji almost didn't let you finish before he was shushing you and pulling you into his lap, tucking your head beneath his chin, "Nah, m'sorry, kid. I really am. I just-" he sighed so deeply with frustration your head rose and fell with the movement of his chest, "It's just hard fr'me to not think everyone isn't thinking the same shit as that one asshole."

♡ you pulled back from him, placing both hands on his cheeks, you shook your head softly, "Toji, I love you and I wouldn't ever want you to feel upset over some random dumbass."

♡ Toji nodded at that, turning to press a kiss to your palm as you rubbed small circles into the rough skin of his cheeks

♡ you then let yourself fall into his arms once more, his arms coming to wrap themselves around you in a warm embrace

♡ After a few moments, you pulled back again, smiling at him softly, "you wanna help me make dinner, baby?"

♡ Toji seemed to perk at that, "only if it's lasagna."

♡ you giggled, "I think we can work with that." You pressed a kiss to his lips before linking your hands together and pulling him off the couch

♡ as the two of you made your way to the kitchen, you tapped his ass teasingly

♡ Toji turned to you quickly, pointing a finger at you in scold, watching as you laughed and made your way to the sink

♡ "hey!" Toji called over to you, "This old man'll still beat your ass!"

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji #toji fushiguro #fushiguro toji #jjk #jjk toji #jjk fushiguro #toji zenin #toji fluff #toji zenin x reader #fushiguro #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro fluff #jujutsu toji #zenin toji

[stillcarmine]

Excerpt for the next sequel to words frost once wrote, following through the dead of winter:

“Apollo," Leo had said, placing a hand on his arm and halting the god's ramble about all of Asclepius’s efforts. "Just tell me the truth. Does he really think he can actually do anything about this?"

Apollo inhaled, and Leo could see it before he exhales, saying, "No, but I believe in him. Please don't give up hope."

Leo hadn't been able to manage a smile, but he'd pat Apollo's shoulder and stood. 

"Some other way then," Leo said. "But thank you both." 

It just made it clear what had to be done. 

Because he meant it when he said that the god's gifts wouldn't solve his problem.

But Nemesis doesn't give gifts.

Because, yes, Leo could live like this. 

But if he has a chance, to feel, to get back an aspect of his life that he never knew he could miss, of not having to tamp down on this screaming agony every moment of the day-

If Nemesis is offering-

Leo hears that it's a bad idea. 

He remembers the consequences of his last bargain. 

But he knows that Nemesis does fair trades. 

He thinks he already knows what it is that she'll ask for in return. 

And it is something he's willing to pay. 

So he asks Apollo to be there, though before he sets to work, he holds out his hand and says, "What happens here stays here. Can you agree to that?"

Apollo looks at him with his wide, hazel eyes, unlike the dark brown ones of his godly son that Leo will tell about this himself, or the blue ones of the mortal son that Leo will never give anything more to. 

"Yes," Apollo says and takes his hand, giving it a solid shake.

When Leo turns to the table where the others are gathered, he sees that Calypso is regarding Apollo with her own eyes gleaming with dark promise should the god not follow through on that agreement.

Jason, for his part, stares at the fortune Leo's set on the table top. 

The other residents and visitors are somewhere out of sight, giving them privacy, except for Emmie, who felt it was her duty to be present. Leo doesn't mind this either.

Pulling out the seat between Cal and Jason, Leo picks up Nemesis's calling card and breaks the fortune open. 

Inside it reads, 'Look up'.

When he does, the goddess sits across the table from him. 

"Nemesis," he greets. 

"Leo," she replies, smiling with her borrowed face. 

"Am I right about your offer?" he asks. 

"Yes," she says, a smile in her dark eyes. 

"The terms?" he asks. 

"Just as you expect," she assures. 

"Why are you doing this?" Calypso asks her. 

Nemesis looks over at her and says, "It's the right move."

Not that it's the right thing to do, just that it's the right move. Like shifting a piece of stone from one scale to another. 

There's something comforting in the detachment, actually. Nothing in it for her because what she will give is equal to what she will take.

"Okay," Leo says. "Then we have a deal."

He holds out his hand. 

"Leo, you don't have to do this," Jason says quietly, like he wants to give Leo one last escape route. 

"I know," Leo says. 

The goddess regards him, and then takes his hand and shakes it. 

#leo valdez #jason grace #calypso pjo #apollo pjo #nemesis pjo #hoo #heroes of olympus #the fucked up repercussions of resurrection collection #81.8°S 59.3°E

[bionicle-ramblings]

More humanized Bionicle stuff because I left a few things out of my first post and I have a few thoughts to share

I went into detail about how Vakama looks, i.e. hair and eye color, but I never did that with the other Toa:

Nokama is the second tallest after Nuju. She doesn't wear heels, it's all natural. Her long is dark, enough for it to shine blue in the sun. Also following her OG set design, her eyes are an orange-amber color.

Since Matau can't exactly grow his hair out, he dyes it and his natural roots grew when he was given the Toa Stone by Lhikan. His hair is also a constant mess because he has helmet hair. People are surprised to see his red eyes, but Matau says it adds to his charm.

Onewa either has light brown hair or dark blond hair that he ties back in a ponytail. Has the most riveting blue eyes in the team and he uses that to his advantage so that he wins in a staring contest against Matau(because I firmly believe that he's bi and a disaster sometimes)

Nuju is the tallest. He knows it. Despite sometime spent in the sun, Nuju is a little pale. Actually, he's VERY pale. His hair is white as snow and his eyes are such a pale blue they might was well be white. He doesn't smile a lot and it shows because he doesn't have any smile lines on his face.

Whenua is the shortest in the group, but don't be fooled. He is still a tank, he is a walking Boulder. The man is nearly solid muscle. His hair is basically an undercut with the top being box braided and he has to untie the braids and retie them when he bathes or showers. He's got very green eyes like Vakama, but his are slightly more vibrant. And they're like a cat's in that they glow in the dark, which the others know from first-hand experience because they've either awoken to seeing Whenua's eyes only or they looked at Whenua at the right angle when it was dark.

With descriptions out of the way, time for shenanigans!

In an arm wrestling contest, for fun and games, Whenua, oddly enough, won against the other Toa. Matau and Onewa wanted a rematch, but Whenua, to pull their legs, told them not to hurt themselves and wait until later

Vakama and Whenua need to be reminded to go to bed because they're both used to staying up late

Nokama 100% does yoga. The others have tried it and Nuju, Whenua, and Vakama do partake in doing it. Onewa and Matau tried, but Matau cannot do it for long because he prefers more active activities. Onewa just doesn't have the best balance

Vakama and Whenua occasionally braid each other's hair, though really it's a "them" thing that developed because Whenua got just out of the bath and asked Vakama for help rebraiding his hair. As they were braiding, Vakama asked if the braids mean anything, like if each braid is a number of rahi or bit of information in the archives or if each braid is a year Whenua worked in the archives, but Whenua just admits he has them because it gives his hands something to do and he doesn't get any wispy hair in his face. When asked about his own braids, Vakama admitted they were from a friend and he held onto them for sentimental reasons. He totally expected to be picked on for it, but Whenua only told him he was lucky and, as a half joke, asked Vakama if he'll have more braids as he worked with the other Toa Metru. Vakama was indecisive, as that would mean growing more hair and braiding it, but he wouldn't object to it

When their boots get damaged, Onewa looks for new boots while Vakama just fixes his, and it shows because he has had to repleace the string of his boot, had to sew a hole shut, had to fix the sole, and put some new metal in the toe when the old metal gave

Vakama doesn't smoke, I don't imagine any of the Toa Metru smoking, but if Vakama did smoke, he'd essentially use his thumb as a lighter. If anyone's getting cheeky or smart with him, he'd flip them off as he lights a smoke. Well, anyone but Nokama, who would be on his back about stopping because he's not helping himself by doing it and his lungs/filters are already gross from breathing smoke and fumes all day, so why is he making it worse?

Matau is 100% someone who would walk up to one of the other Toa Metru and say, "Pay attention to me." Very cat-like behavior, but the guy wants love

Vakama doesn't fully remember getting his scar from the Vahki. The others asked what he did, but he legitimately has no idea

Something that's absolutely a thing between the two of them: Matau will lay right on top of Vakama or lay by him, what have you. It's a win-win thing for them both; Matau gets really warm, and Vakama gets a comfortable weight on him to calm him down

Because I have cats, how they'd do with a cat: Whenua would let it chill on his shoulders, Nokama would have a new best friend and the cat essentially becomes her animal companion, Matau is shape-shifting into another cat and playing with it, Onewa is the guy who didn't want the cat but falls in love anyway, Nuju is indifferent about it, and Vakama is very, "What do I do?" towards it because it honks at him whenever he's making masks to calm down and lays on him because he is a living furnace

This is just in general, but their eyes change color when their 'mask powers' are activated. Nokama's eyes glow blue, Vakama's glow red, Nuju's glow white, et cetera. Whenua's just more of a lead-y silver, but still

#bionicle #ramblings #toa metru #long post #vakama #nokama #nuju #whenua #onewa #matau #humanized bionicle #headcanon #smoking mention