Description: Yoongi the hostel owner slowly develops a rapport with a girl and her friends that keep visiting. Maybe a bit of a flirtatious one. Maybe even a little crush. One night he gets protective on a date gone bad and it leads to smut.
Pairing: Yoongi x Reader
Genre: Smut (M)
Word Count: 7.1k
A/N: So, basically, this is based off an experience I had last week. Not the smut part (ughhhhh), but the whole hostel owner coming to save the day when this dude just wouldn’t get the hint and leave. I relayed the experience to @ellieljade , because I needed her to die with me, and we both decided it should be used for smut fuel. Like grown adults.
I've seen you say a couple times that you don't see or that you're disabled. Do you mind talking about it? I ask because I am an aspiring writer and it is really hard for me. I wanted to know how you managed or what it was like?
I don’t mind talking about it. It’s something that made me who I am.
When I was about 12, my health sort of started to eat itself. I suddenly had a ton of allergies, and there were days I couldn’t get out of bed. I got sick all the time. In freshman year of high school, I suddenly couldn’t see. For a long time a thing had been going on in my eyes, but I guess I didn’t think it was abnormal until it made it impossible for me to see. Basically this hole was kind of growing in my eyes, but it was more like a rainbow.
When I started having trouble with colors and detail vision, my mom freaked out a bit, because at the time, I was an award winning artist who had ideas of going to college for art. Then I started tripping over things, hitting my head, having trouble with depth perception. Then I got sick, and I mean sick.
I spent about 23 hours a day in bed. I had almost constant migraines. I had pain in my entire body. My skin turned yellow. I went to every kind of doctor you can think of and was tested for everything there is. One day, I had about 12 vials of blood drawn. No one knew what was wrong. The eyes weren’t that big a deal at first, because it seemed like I might have something really serious. The first couple of eye doctors I went to kind of looked at me and said “Oh it’s nothing big.” I actually had one guy tell me that my brain was just shutting off my eyes because I wasn’t using them properly. Yeah.
Then finally, my mom took me to a friend of our family who happened to be an eye surgeon. She did a free exam. I’ll never forget it because it was the first time anyone believed me. I’d been told by doctor after doctor that there was nothing wrong with me. I’d been referred to therapists, told I needed depression meds, told I was just going through a phase or needed attention. Then this doctor put on her head gear, looked into my eyes…took off the head gear…got new head gear…looked into my eyes…took off the headgear…got hand held tools…looked into my eyes…and then stared at me with her mouth hanging open.
“I can’t see the back of your eye,” she said. And suddenly the world simultaneously healed itself and flipped upside-fucking-down for me.
Then it was all about my eyes, the one symptom we could see happening. The one that was the most dangerous. But by then it was too late.
What happened is pretty simple: I apparently have some weird recessive DNA. It triggers certain bizarre immune issues at puberty. My immune system decided to attack my body. The eyes are a delicately balanced system. They show symptoms first. My immune system attacked them with a vengeance. They swelled up like balloons. Normal eye pressure is about 14-17. Mine was at a 22 at its best. It put a tremendous amount of pressure on my Retina, specifically my macula, cutting off blood flow like when you sit on your foot. You know those little shadowy things that float across your eyes? They’re called protein floaters. My eyes had produced so many of those that the doctor could not see through them. It was a fog.
They had to find a way to map my eye, to track the damage. Cue the eye exam from hell. I have always been, even before my autoimmune disorder, deathly allergic to melon. Any kind of melon. But now I was allergic to all sorts of shit, fruits vegetables, all kinds of crap. My dad is allergic to contrast dyes. So when the retinologist suggested this dye-based eye exam that is kind of like a CAT scan, my mom said “no”. See, they inject you with this dye and then they flash this weird light in your eyes. It causes the dye to glow, and then they can see the things through the fog. My mom told them I was too sensitive to stuff for that to be safe. The doc assured her they’d put a butterfly in my arm, meaning the vein would be kept open, and a syringe of benedryl was set on the counter. They’d never had anyone react, and they needed the pictures or there was nowhere to go from there.
So they put this dye into me, and it was like I’d been injected with fire, but there was no way around it, and to me, I knew they only had about 90 seconds to get the images they needed. So I sucked it up. finally the burning began to spread. Suddenly my back felt like I was being stabbed, and I suddenly couldn’t speak. I tapped my hands on my mom, then began sneezing spontaneously. My mom lifted my shirt, and I had quarter-sized hives. The nurse said “Stop sneezing on the camera”. Yeah.
My mom went ballistic. The doctor flew up the stairs and gave me the emergency meds. I slid into a dissociation state and nearly out of my chair. They had to prop me against the camera for the next couple minutes and reinject the dye. No other way, you see.
They did this test every few months for a few years.
But then there was treatment. Not much they could do, except try to get the swelling under control. Only way to do that was corticosteroid injections in the eye. Yup. A needle in the eye. No, they don’t knock you out. They numb the surface of the eye with the same numbing drops they give you for the exams and then they come at you with a needle, tell you to look down and to hold still. And you fucking do.
I was 15 when that started.
I went to experimental clinics, labs, and joined studies. I dropped out of those. Why? It’s pretty simple. The first day I came to the exams, I was kept waiting for over two hours. I was taken into a room. I was left there. No information, no talking. Suddenly a man came in followed by a group of people, all in lab coats. He started moving me around like I was a doll and talking like, “The patient presents with…the patient this, the patient that…”
I shoved him back and said, “The patient’s name is Kristina, and she is 16.”
He finished his exam, and when he left, after the students had gone, he took two Q-tips, dipped them in that pink shit your dentist uses to swab your gums before an injection, and SHOVED them under my eyelids with a cocky smirk.
The patient will never be an snotty little bitch again, I guess.
So yeah. Fuck those guys. They gave me two injections in one day, which no one had ever done before, because it was almost impossible to function with two pimple-like bubbles on your eyeballs.
Still my health was bad. Then all of a sudden, when my mom had given up, It just wasn’t anymore. Suddenly, I was fine, and all that was left were the eyes. I went back to school, except now I was blind.
In a few months, I’d lost about 80% of my perfect vision. I was photophobic. I got horrible and constant headaches. I walked with a cane. And not a single fucking teacher believed me, except my civics teacher, who had gone blind at a young age due to some other weird eye disorder, and my physics teacher who was deaf. I had teachers send me to the office for wearing my sunglasses (with a note on file). I had teachers get on my case about having an audio recorder and CD player for my books. I had teachers call me names, make fun of me, make me leave class to photocopy their notes larger, so that I missed the lecture the notes were on. I had teachers take my medications which had to be in my possession because of their time-sensitive nature and constant administration and hide them in their desks as punishment for asking questions or demanding help. I had classmates pick on me, but luckily, I was well-liked, and I was an officer in the ROTC. I even excelled there in spite of my vision, because my Captain believed in my leadership skills.
I always tell this story because I think it is funny. We had this special boot camp we got to go to if we were in the upper ranks of the ROTC. If you joined the military after high school (which I could never do) you got a higher paygrade for having gone through it. Almost like taking a couple JC classes in the military. It was grueling and all physical fitness, obstacle courses, PT, classes, guard duty…fucking blah. Our unit was allowed six participants. I sort of figured that it wasn’t really fair for me to go, even with my high rank (a company XO). To my complete fucking shock, my Captain recommended me to go, cutting out a classmate (and ex) of mine who was higher in rank. The boy went ape-shit. He went on and on about how unfair it was. He even went to the school board. My Captain made his reasons clear; he told them that the academy isn’t about military sponsorship. It’s about skills and quality. He didn’t care if I had a disability. In his eyes I had more innate ability than anyone there because I had worked so hard just to be where I was. The boy was angry. I told my Captain I appreciated the gesture, but honestly, we ought to make it fair. I told him that we should train to meet the PT standards, and that if this kid could make his, but i couldn’t make mine, he should go. I made mine. He didn’t. He complained about that too. At the last minute, we were told one extra person could come because another school had lost one. So he came anyway. The whole time he bitched about me being there. When I got there, the real military officers gave me shit like you wouldn’t believe, because they weren’t used to dealing with disabilities or recognizing that they can’t discriminate against high schoolers by law. The commander of the unit tried to dress me down in front of everybody for wearing sunglasses. I was pretty pleased with myself for telling him off but still sounding respectful. He kept saying “Take off my glasses”. I told him they weren’t his. They were mine, by law, and that if he had a problem with that, he could consult my attorney, the DOJ, and the doctor who prescribed them. He tried to fuck with me. I didn’t say anything except to ask him if he wanted me to have a migraine, because that’s what taking the glasses off means. He was so confused by me he walked away and called my Captain over. There were words. After that, he came up to me once or twice, almost like a test, to ask me if I needed him to slow down or if I was getting around alright. He wasn’t being nice. He was egging me in a condescending tone and with very bullying language. He’s a drill instructor, and you know what, that’s his job. I told him I was fine. But I made a decision: I wasn’t just going to make the female PT marks. I was going to test out of this fucking place at the male PT marks. And I fucking did. That boy…had an asthma attack on the track (I had asthma too, but I worked my ass off while he coasted on his “boyness”) and failed. At the certificate ceremony, the commander came up to me and said I had really impressed him, and that it was a shame I couldn’t enter the Navy. I thanked him, but what I wanted to say was, “Go fuck yourself and take the NAVY with you”. I ended up the Battalion XO Senior year. This would have given me a guaranteed spot in Westpoint if I could have taken it. My Captain cried when he told me he was sorry he had to give it to one of our Company XO’s. I told him that it was best for everyone, because I am not the type of person to enjoy taking orders. I had learned that about myself.
Around Junior year I got people to pay attention. My doctors got the DOJ and the Social Security people involved. A woman came to my school and enforced compliance in a tone of voice I’d never heard anyone but my mother use. She threatened to rain brimstone down on them if they didn’t give me what I needed, and things changed.
My parents wanted me to take a full scholarship to a local school, but I wanted to get away. So I did. I wanted to travel abroad, so i did. And when I was 19, they perfected one of the surgeries they had been working on the entire time I’d been struggling with this.
See, the injections had brought and kept the swelling down, but that meant that the fog was still there (since ocular fluid doesn’t replace), and the structures in the eye had been stretched all to shit, and were laying in my eye like melted plastic wrap. The old surgery was like a blind man hacking with a machete, but the new surgery used fluorescent dyes to track movement. Dyes that wouldn’t kill me. The old surgery had a 50-50 shot at complete loss of vision and made you lay on your face for three weeks. The new was fool proof and took 45 minutes. So, I got one eye done. They swapped out all the fluid and replaced it with saline. They peeled the distorted membrane off the macula. They stitched up my eyeball and gave me a sick metal eye patch. Looked like a fucking space pirate. It was rad.
But the blind spot is still there. The cataracts caused by the steroids are still there. The scars are there.
A few years later I had the other one done too.
My college was great. It took a lot of work getting all my reading done, about 500 pages minimum, per week, done via audio. I used to spend hours at the pool table in our residence hall, listening to my books and practicing. I got pret damn good too, at pool. It was difficult taking notes or working with a note taker. It was scary traveling by myself. It was hard to get people to understand there wasn’t anything WRONG with me. Just that my eyes don’t work even though it seems like I’m normal and fine, and like they should. People always think to be legally blind you have to be completely blind, and they think you’re not going to be able to defend yourself. I’ve been targeted by pickpockets. I’ve been followed by scary dudes. I’ve been treated like shit, laughed at, and accused by full grown adults of faking to get privileges, all because I can look at the place where their head should be and smile at the blank spot there. All because I can walk down a flight of stairs with a few neat tricks I know that have nothing to do with a cane.
But shit…you probably didn’t mean to ask for my life story. I’m going to get back to the point. My writing. What has it done for that? Like how can you be a writer if you can’t fucking see? Technology. It’s been amazing. I can use a computer same as anyone. The Kindle has been a fucking revolution for me because for the first time in a decade and a half I could read without pain and suffering. Just…all the things it does have made life so much easier than it used to be. It got me out of bad relationships with people who used my disability as a control. It gave me a little bit of confidence back. It helped me know I could handle myself.
And really, I think my vision loss had a lot to do with my writing. In some ways it gives me different perspective, sure, but it’s more than that. I was undeclared when I entered college. I didn’t know what I wanted to do. I thought about history or sociology. My mom had a degree in that and she was an English teacher. I wanted art history, but what the fuck was the point in that? Couldn’t see a damn thing. And then I had a class in poetry, and shit…That made sense. I’d always loved language and writing. Always been okay at it. Dorte stuff but never thought about doing it for a living. But then it was like yeah…yeah I’m gonna fucking do that. Just like when I decided to meet the male PT standards.
If it is in you. If you love it. If it defines you and possesses you, it does not matter how fucked up you are. You will find a way. You don’t have a choice. You are that thing. And you’ll adapt. You just have to let yourself. You have to keep pushing. You have to learn how to handle frustration. you have to train yourself into stamina. You just keep going. I’m nowhere near as successful as I want to be. I’m still going. I hope I get even better. I hope I can say things that make truth more obvious, or that help people put words to things they have always wanted to say.
I don’t need my eyes to be a fucking firestorm. That’s just me. Eyes don’t mean shit.
So keep going. Keep doing whatever you need to. Do it better and better. Bend yourself around it. People who see you struggle will think they’re lucky, but you and I know the truth: they’re not even close to the kind of strong you are. Not even a little bit.
I straighten the covers and place the money in my safe box under the bed. Another night of work. I laugh at my own statement. Ha! Work! All you do is take rejected men’s money for a wild time.
I haven’t been doing this long. Only a couple months, but I’ve made more money than you can believe!
I know how people look at me. I see the stares of shame. How some women cross the street trying to get as far away from me as possible like they might catch something.
They wouldn’t. I don’t let any man go there. Only one man has ever taken me there. Only one man I will ever let go beyond the methods I use on other men. No one has touched me since the day he was murdered.
As I scrub the filth away from my body I think back to how Jerome took me. He had different ways of making me feel head over heels. Some nights he would take me hard and rough where the bed would get close to breaking, than other nights when he was feeling love sick he would worship me. He would thrust passionately kissing my body and telling me how beautiful I am.
I step out of the shower leaving the painful memories behind. I wrap a towel around my body and go down to the kitchen to make a drink. I get out the ingredients for a rock hard drink but then a knock on the door interrupts me.
I sigh and open it to see a man with cash in hand. He raises his brow and pushes past me. Is this really my life? He throws the money at me and sits on the sofa.
I walk over to him and set the cash on the hood in his trousers. “It’s late.” I say and make my way to the door to open it for him. He laughs and throws the cash at me with force. “Suck it whore.” This man was clearly drunk and out of his mind to think he can talk to me like that.
Though financial worries enter my brain. I need the money. I need it to get away from here. I sigh and rest on my knees giving the man what he paid for.
Once done I stand up quickly and feel like I should rinse my mouth out with bleach. Just then another knock rings out. A loud one. One of demand.
I move to open the door. “I can see why you’re so popular dollface.” I grasp the handle hard and turn to him with a displeased expression. “Don’t-” “CALL HER THAT!” A screaming voice beats me to it. I know that voice.
I open the door thinking I’m crazy. I’m hearing voices again. I swing open the door to see him. “J-Jer-” he places his finger against my lips and strides into the room seeing the man. He turns to me with fire in his eyes. “Did he touch you?” I shake my head gripping my towel closer to my body scared.
Jerome comes closer and I take in his appearance. Staples? I have to say it’s not his worst look.
The man on the couch scoffs. “No. She never lets anyone get in there. To stubborn. I’ve got to say she makes up for it man. Come here and sit. She does magic.” Jerome laughs. “Oh I know. She’ll ride me like a good girl any day.” The man once again scoffs. “Ha sure! She’s not gonna let some random person in there!” The man laughs.
Jerome turns to him with a smirk. “Oh I’m not a stranger. I was her first isn’t that right darling?” He asks lifting my chin up. “Well go on baby girl. Tell him how I’m the only one who’s ever touched your pussy.” Jerome moves me in front of the man and grips my hips. “He’s the only man to ever touch my pussy.” I say feeling Jerome move his hand beyond the towel and run his fingers over the skin of my hip. I shiver under his touch missing him exceedingly.
The man on the couch slaps his knee with a jealous expression. “Oh man! Lucky you! You’re okay with her doing this though? That’s what I call a working relationship!” Jerome’s hand goes further and slips between my wet folds. He circles my clit with pressure making my body lean into his. Jerome laughs and removes his hand. Instead he lifts up the back of the towel and grips my ass. “Actually no. You see I’ve been gone for a while. This is news to me. I find this…humiliating, and revolting.” Jerome then fiddled with his own trousers and releases himself. I feel him from behind as he starts to rub his head across my wet folds. The man on the couch just stares as if he’s in heaven.
Jerome laughs. “My my my doll. You really haven’t let anyone touch you. So tight I can even thrust into you, but as for you…enjoying the snow?” Jerome thrusts hard entering me. Filling me up like he use to. I arch back into him wanting more. Needing more. The man on the couch looks at me and nods his head.
Jerome laughs and pulls out a gun. He places the barrel to my head as he continues to thrust into me pulling my hair back. “Should I shoot you? Hm? Do you deserve to live knowing the things you’ve done? You dirty whore. Who do you belong to?” “You. You Jerome!” I moan out enjoying the blissful pleasure he’s bestowing upon me. “That’s right doll! I want you to do so for me okay?” Jerome whispers in my ear. “Shoot him.” Jerome says placing the gun in my hand.
I aim the barrel at him and pull the trigger with a rush enveloping me. The mans blood splatters on the wall and he falls completely limp. Jerome growls and rips the towel away turning me around. “You’re in so much trouble.” He says and pushes me against the wall hiking me up and thrusting into me hard and fast. I place my arms around him moaning his name over and over again. “Say it again doll. Scream it.” He says and moves his hand to rub my clit. I toss my head back against the wall in pure pleasure. “Jerome!” I moan out.
He moves to sit on the couch next to the dead man still spilling blood. “What do you say princess? You wanna ride me?” I nod eagerly and place myself above him cock and sliding down on him. Jerome grips my hips as I bouch on his cock making us both feel pleasures we haven’t had for a year.
Jerome rubs his fingers against the blood on the man’s wound and covers his hand in the thick red liquid. He proceeds to trail his hand down my body making a line from my breast, to my stomach, and right above my crotch. “Ah you’re such a good girl. You’re going to cum aren’t you? Go on doll. Cum for me.” I do as he says and release on him and seconds he fills me up with his own cum.
Jerome moves my hair out of the way and kisses me. “You’re mine. Don’t be so stupid to think otherwise. No other man looks at you. Ever! Understood?” He caresses my cheek with a smile. “Yes J.” He laughs and picks me up. “Then why don’t we make up for lost time? Sound good?” I smile and kiss his nose. “Sounds perfect.”
The ‘girls night out’ was just as wild as you
expected from Jieun.
It started off civil enough with dinner in a
gorgeous restaurant, but two hours later you were in a private room in a club
trying to make sure Jieun doesn’t fall down from the table, where she was
dancing barefoot with a bottle of wine in her hand.
Half an hour later she was sitting next to you
again, crying that she misses Minseok, and you took that as your cue to call it
*Yang slammed open the door to her and Ruby's room with tears in her eyes.* Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! *yang shouted as she punched the wall repeatedly before slumping down against it onto the floor holding her hands to her face.*
*Meanwhile Ruby rushed in from the bathroom in a panic.* What Happen!? I heard banging! *She then spotted her sister sitting shaking on against the wall and quickly rushed over.* Yang? Are you alright? What's wrong?
*Yang sniffled wiping the tears from her red eyes.* It's nothing Ruby. Just... Just go away.
Yang. It's clearly not nothing. Please talk to me. I just want to help. *Ruby said moving closer to her sister placing her hand on her shoulder.*
*Yang was silent for a moment, trying to stop the tears from falling as her eyes slowly turn purple.* Fine... I was going to the cafe were Blake went too... I was going to go tell her how I feel about her because I just needed to get this off my chest, ya'know. *Yang sniffled wiping her eyes.* But when I got there I saw her with Sun.
Okay so Blake was hanging out with Sun. That isn't out of- *Ruby started before shouted with more tears in her eyes.*
They were on a date Ruby!
*At this Ruby looked dumbfounded with surprise.* W-what? No. they couldn't be. They are just good friend, Yang. I'm sure it was a misunderstanding.
*Ruby then watched as the anger in Yang's express was overwhelmed with sorrow before looking down at the ground.* That's what I was hope for, Ruby... Right up until They kissed.
oh... Oh Yang. *Ruby whisper as she wrapped her arms around her sister who hugged her back burying her face into her shoulder.* I am so sorry.
What am I going to do Ruby? *sniffle* I love her so much. But I can never be with her. *sniffle. I can't even tell her now. *Yang cried, holding onto Ruby for dear life.*
Shhhhh. It's alright. Let it all out. *Ruby whispered as she stroke Yangs head hugging her until she calmed down.* It'll be okay Yang. Why don't you go take a shower and get ready for bed. Maybe it will help you feel better.
*sniffle.* Yeah... Thank you Ruby.
Anytime. We're sisters after all. We take care of each other. You'd do the same for me... And probably beat up the other person.
Hehe, Yeah I would.
*Ruby walked down stair while Yang is in the shower when she hears the front door open and close.* Oh I guess Blake is back. *She thought to herself when she hear Weiss and Blake begin to talk.*
Welcome back Blake.
Hey Weiss. Where's Yang and Ruby?
Upstairs. Yang's in the shower and Ruby I think went to bed.
Ah I see. I'll put these left overs in the fridge then.
So how did it go?
How did what go?
Your date with Sun.
*Ruby then heard Blake groan as she heard her coat being thrown.* For the last time Weiss. It was not a date. We are just friends and I made that pretty clear to him as well.
What do you mean?
Sigh, Sun kissed me.
He kissed you!?
Yes. And then I slapped him.
WHAT!? Why? I thought you liked him?
As. A. Friend. Honestly, If I knew he was asking me out on a date and not to hang out I would have told him no and that I only see him as a friend. Which He accepted and apologized for kissing me while I apologized for slapping him.
But I don't understand! You talked you were in love with someone blonde that we know. Oh god don't tell me it's Jaune!
What?! No! God No!
Then who? We don't know any other blonde guys and the only other person we both know who is blonde is Yang.
Oh. My god.
Weiss. I'm serious. Shut up.
*It was then just as Weiss opened her mouth to speak Ruby stepped out from around the corner and nearly shouted.* YOU LOVE YANG!
R-RUBY!? *Blake jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the box of sweet as Weiss watched from the chair she sat in.* H-hey. Uh, I thought you were sleep. I, uh, got some sweetd from the cafe if you want any. *Blake then watched as Ruby zipped over infront of her slapping the box out of her hand to the floor, shocking both her and Weiss before Ruby took hold of her shoulder.*
Yeah. Forget that. Is it true!? You Actually love my sister?!
Ruby what is wrong with-
Not now Weiss! I'll example later! Blake! Do you or do you not love Yang!?
Well I mean... *Blake muttered shifting nervously at Ruby's gaze before finally cracking.* Okay Yes. I love Yang but you can't tell her, please.
Oh thank you god!
Blake You are going to go up stair to Yang right now and tell Yang how yu feel. Like right now!
What? Why? *the two said together before looking at each other weirdly then back to Ruby.*
Because Yang has been crying for the past hour thinks you and Sun are dating!
Why would Yang think that and why was she crying about it?
Because she loves you and she saw Sun kissing you!
WHAT!? OH MY GOD! YANG!*Blake Shouted and quickly ran past Ruby and upstairs.*
You think she remembers me saying Yang is in the shower? *Both Weiss and Ruby then looked as they heard a door slam open.*
YANG! IT WASN'T A DATE! I DON'T LOVE SUUUUWHOAMYGOD!
AAAAAAAAAAAH! BLAKE! WHAT THE HELL!?
I'M SORRY! I DIDN'T KNOW YOU WERE NAKED!
I JUST GOT OUT OF THE SHOWER! STOP PEAKING AND GET OUT OR AT LEAST GIVE MY A TOWEL!
Yeah I'm going to go with nope. *Ruby then took a bite of a cookie from the box on the floor.*
Summary: You start to date Kai Parker and Damon gets very angry and overprotective.
Requested by ANON
You snaked your hair around the curling iron once more and looked over to see Damon laying on your bed clutching your pillow on his chest. “What are you getting all dolled up for?” He said while eyeballing you in the mirror.
“Does there have to be a reason, Damon?” You said as you finished curling your hair. He raised his eyebrow and looked you up and down.
“And you’re in a dress. There has to be some kind of party going on.” You looked at Damon and groaned. Damon quickly took up the role of your best friend the moment you moved to Mystic Falls. At first, you were not so sure if his friendship was reliable, then you questioned if he had a crush on you, then you just realised that he just wanted someone to talk to that wasn’t his brother, he just wanted someone to understand him and you were willing to be that person for him.
“There is no big occasion Damon,” You said as you grabbed your phone off the charger. “maybe you should just go home and drink some bourbon.”
Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes. “that is a tempting offer, but I would much rather sit here and pry into your little mind.” He grinned and changed his position on the bed. You wanted badly to just throw something at him, or yell at him for being stupid, but you knew better than to start a fight with him.
“Damon, what I do on my Saturday nights is my business.” You plopped yourself on the bed and grabbed Damon’s hand. “I’m not doing anything dangerous I promise.” His form softened a bit with your touch, but you could tell he still hadn’t given up on finding out your plans.
“Fine don't tell me, but I'm just going to assume you're going to a strip club or something.” You groaned and pushed his cold body down onto the bed.
“I’m not going to a….” You stopped when you felt the slight brush of a cold hand go across your arm. Damon had grabbed your phone and was going through it. “Damon! Give that back!” You clawed at him and tried everything to get your phone out of his hands, but you couldn’t.
“Oh look, you have a message from the little Psyco witch boy.” He suddenly got stiff and his face became rigid. Kai must have said something about the date, otherwise, Damon would have never known a thing.
“Damon, look I..” He cut you off once more.
“Kai parker? Out of all the Psychopaths in the world. you choose the one that I know, you choose the one that is trying to kill our friends.” He was mad now and you could clearly see it.
“Damon calm down. He is different with me.” You realised how stupid you sounded, but Kai really was good to you. He was calm, charming, and caring. You really liked him.
“What the hell Y/N, do you hear yourself right now.” He yelled. “He could hurt you in an instant, he is crazy and will do whatever he wants no matter how brutal it is. “
“Sound like someone I know.” You said as you folded your arms across your chest.
A low growl escaped Damon’s lips. “I am nothing like him.” He said as he slowly pushed you up against a wall. His arms were by your head and his eyes were glaring into yours. “You can’t go out with him tonight.” He whispered. “I won’t let you.”
“You can’t stop me, Damon.” You whispered in his ear. You shoved him away and to your surprise, he moved.
“Fine, go, but I will be within shouting distance the whole time. And If you even sound uncomfortable for 2 seconds I will rip his head off.” You put your hands on your hips and just looked at him.
“What are you like my protector now? last I checked Damon I can take care of myself.” His form softened because he knew you were right. “I’m going on a date with Kai Parker, Damon. I’m telling you now, I know what he can do and I’m telling you he is different and he would never hurt me.” Damon quickly got annoyed and you could tell. “Now can I have my Phone back?”
A/N: Sorry this took so long, I feel like this isn’t my best work so I apologize , but I do hope it doesn’t stink too bad. :)
Summary: You hate a lot of things about Jeon Jungkook; you hate his arrogance, his reputation, and his pet name for you to name a few. But most of all, you hate how right it feels for you to fall into his arms, and how easy it is to fall for him. Word Count: 13,742 Genre: fuckboy!Jungkook, college au, sprinkling of feelings A/N: I feel like I’m sending my child to their first day of kindergarten oh my goodness. I hope you guys enjoy the last part!!
There was no way you were in love with Jeon Jungkook, absolutely no way in hell you had feelings for him that ran any deeper than discontent. It had been the moment, the conversation with Jungkook, the awe you’d felt when he showed you his forest. You had gotten caught up in that moment, and your mind had tricked itself into thinking you liked Jungkook.
I… really like Overlord… it’s such a good show it’s all I’ve ever wanted out of an anime… I love all of the characters and it’s hard for me to pick a favorite (besides Ainz ofc) but here are some I like a lot!!
Hmn this might be werid but I'm in the mood for angst, rfa + minor trio(MY baes) somehow injurying mc really badly maybe even leaving a permanent scar or something, if they were in an argument or etc, happy or bad ending u'r choice abd it's okay if u don't do this if it makes u uncomfortable
Oh my God this killed me, I deleted it over four times on accident!
This deleted over three times, and I almost had a mental breakdown, then my power was out before, sorry for the wait.Omg I’m so sorry for being so behind, I lost power for over 24 hours, and then I typed everything up and my computer crashed and it all deleted. I don’t mean to make up excuses. I’m so sorry! Anyway yeah, I’m not sure how good it’s going to be, but I hope you’ll like it!!!! Zen • He knew he wasn’t supposed to do it • He knew it was bad for him, that it could very well kill him • He was going good so far, he hadn’t smoked in two months, and hadn’t gotten too drunk in about six weeks • You were happy about that, and honestly, he was pretty proud of himself • But one day it happened • He slipped, and all descended into Hell • He had lost a role he’d been preparing for weeks to a man who he hated • And his friends managed to convince him to go out and get a drink • Well one turned into five • And a cigarette • Or two • It was a miracle he managed to drag himself home, but when he did he sort of lost it • And not in a good way • You were waiting for him, after a crap ton of missed calls, and the pictures on the messenger • You were ready to give him some Advil, put him to bed, and the next day to spend around eight hour lecturing him on the dangers of smoking • But it didn’t exactly go that way • When you saw the state he was in you kinda snapped • A shouting match ensued • “You’re going to kill yourself!!” • “You’re just being over protective and stuck up, besides, what if I don’t care?” • “You take that back right now!” • “Why should I?!” • Eventually he picked up a plate on the counter and chucked it • He wasn’t aiming anywhere in particular, and it wouldn’t’ve mattered he was so drunk • But the pieces of porcelain, along with what smashed on the grounds when he wildly grabbed it, were stuck in you • In your shoulder, your ankles • You bit your lip, fighting back the screams of pain as your body burned with the shrapnel-like pain of something being thrown at you at a fast rate, before lodging itself in you, still glistening with cleaning solution • You ran out, leaving Zen with his thoughts • In his drunken state he didn’t notice, he just slinked off to bed, falling into a coma-like sleep the minute his head hit the pillow • When he woke up at first he didn’t remember • Rolling over to hug you he noticed the bed was empty • At first his thoughts were confused through the headache and haze of his hangover • Hangover… • Shit! • He ran into the kitchen to see the remains of what happened last night • Immediately he freaked out, calling Jumin, Seven, Jaehee, before finally clicking on your number • The phone rang about five times, and he was in panic, when finally, finally, you answered • “Hello?” • He almost sobbed with relief • “Jagi! I’m so sorry for what I did, oh my goodness are you hurt, where is it? Please I’m so sorry!” • The line goes silent for a few seconds and Zen thinks you’re going to hang up • “Zen, I’m happy that you’re okay. I am currently in the hospital. The porcelain is out, they were worried about infection due to the cleaning solution, but they can now say that is not going to happen. If you just wanted to know my vitals then I’ll be going.” • Your voice sounds like a flat instrument, the ends dipping down into something, and something unpleasant. • “Jagi, please, I know, I made a mistake, and I get it, you can leave if you want. Just please, please don’t hate me forever. That would break me.” • You listen on the phone • “Fine Zen, I’ll talk later, I have to talk more to the nurse. See you, bye.” • The line dies • When you’re released from hospital a few days later Zen notices the scars that trace your arm and ankle’s, the one on your arm slightly yellow, scabbed at odd places, the holes from vaccines and IUDs vivid against the dull purple • He acts so fragile around you • And though you don’t like to admit it, that breaks you a bit inside • So you agree to stay • As long as he gets help • He nods • He did something wrong, and you will always have the scars to prove it • Not him, because sometimes we don’t hurt ourselves, instead we pin our crimes on others • And he knows that now • The day you move back into the apartment, over a year later, he is waiting patiently, the pieces of glass still in a box, buried deep in his closet that acted as his own reminder
Yoosung • Okay, this one was an accident • Yoosung had been holed up at the library for over twelve hours, agonizing over finals • He looked more dead than alive tbh • So when he dragged his way home he wasn’t exactly thinking straight • You were cooking beef soup on the stove, waiting patiently for him to come home • “MC…..” • He stumbled in, bag falling immediately to the floor • You smiled softly, then went back to your work • “Yoosung, hwo about you go take a bath, dinner will be ready in a bit!” • “Ahh, but MC! I’m too tired, let’s cuddle!” • He went to hug you, but you carefully pried him away • “After dinner Yoosung, it’s important for you to eat.” • “But MC!! Dinner isn’t that important!” • He lunged towards you, going to hug you, but somehow knocked you back • The broth feel on your elbow, which in turned rammed into the fire, touching the gas distributor • Your survival skills kicked in, and you managed to get the fire off yourself, but not without screaming in massive pain, feeling like your flesh was dying, eaten away quickly like in those old movies • Yoosung immediately sprung into action • Turning the stove off he ran towards his phone and called an ambulance • When they got there and he explained it the medics just shook their head • He felt ashamed • He waited outside the room as they operated on your arm, managing to put some sort of fake skin on it, that would attach to the cells and act like actual skin • It was the latest technology, but Yoosung couldn’t help but worry • When you were finally allowed visitors he rushed in and held onto your good hand tightly • “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” • The tears streamed from his face onto your palm • You just smiled softly • “It’s okay, I’ll be fine, there’ll always be a bit of a dark patch, some burn scars, but after some rehab my right arm should be completely functional again.” • You tried to keep your tone light and airy, but Yoosung could still hear the pain behind the words, the heavy breathing tearing at his heart • Even when you were released he still babied you • You were put to bed, and he was getting everything ready • In the process he pulled up your sleeve somehow • He immediately began to cry • The scar was massive! • Wrapping around your arm, and patchwork of hues, ones that would never fade • “Yoosung.” • Your voice snapped him out of himself and he realized he was crying again • “I don’t care about how it looks. I’m happy that we’re both safe and there was no true long term damage. So please don’t cry, when you do it makes me so unhappy.” • He put on a brave face for you, but when you were asleep he kissed the bruise lightly, whispered I’m sorry, and fell asleep to the tears in his eyes
Jaehee • You guys had planned this date weeks ahead • You two were so excited • Until Jaehee bought a ticket for herself to go see one of Zen’s plays • The same day • Not even two, no, one • You were obviously upset • You two had been talking excitedly about it for weeks, it was going to be special • It was your anniversary after all • So why did she do that? • You ended up confronting her about it • And a screaming match ensued • “Do you not enjoy my company or something?!” • “Maybe I’m just getting tired-” • “Of who, me?!” • It was going back and forth • Until a coffee withdrawal-ed Jaehee threw a vase at you • The glass shattered against your face and lodged itself into your eyelid, barely missing the iris • But you still knew there was trouble • You resisted the urge to touch it, but not the urge to screaming bloody murder as you grabbed your phone and ran • When Jaehee could see past what had just happened she immediately panicked • Dribing to the hospital, she called Jumin, Seven, and Yoosung by the time she reached there • When Zen was there she didn’t so much as acknowledge his existence • Finally, after agonizing hours they were done • Your vision couldn’t be saved • The RFA let you two have a moment alone once they were done surrounding you • Jaehee kneeled next to your bed and began crying • She apologized again and again • You just sat there listening, your eye now slightly white with film, a scar weaving its way around the gap • When she was done you began • “It’s good that you learned your lesson…” • He head picked up in surprise • “…That was you won’t make the same mistake with your next loved one.” • She began crying again, and you just tapped the assist button and rolled over • The day that you were released she came over with some flowers • But you were already gone • It had been years since she had seen you • Seven refused to tell her your location • All she knew was that you were in France • She waited for you every night • The only night you came was the night she left this world
Jumin • You two were so excited to work on this small cottage • And you of course insisted that you two work on at least part of it together • It was a sunny, hot day, and Jumin was working on the tiling, while you worked on some of the piping • “I’m so excited!” You squealed cheerfully • He smiled gently at you • “Yes, it’s going to be the best vacation home anyone has ever seen.” • You smiled brightly • That smile lit up his world, you were his torch in the darkness, a spirit leading him out of what once had been darkness • He still couldn’t believe the ring you wore on your finger, the fact that you had said yes • “Hey Jumin, could you pass me the wrench.” • Absentmindedly he picked up the metal object • And chucked it at you • It hit your forehead with a thud as you knocked on the ground • Blood was trickling down your head, and your vision was fuzzy • A concussion was almost certain • Jumin’s head whipped up when he heard you fall, and he immediately drove you to the hospital • It was indeed a concussion, and the scar was unrepairable • He was beside himself in guilt • Watching intently as they patched you up • It took them about three hours before he could see you • Your neck was in a brace, and the scar was read, the skin sunk in slightly, no wider than a paint brush • He kissed it softly before apologizing profusely • You laughed slightly, despite the pain • “It’s okay, but, um, what the heck were we doing.” • You had forgot the 24 hours up to when it happened • He carefully explained everything to you, and you listened • He felt bad about it every time he saw your scar • But you assured him that it didn’t matter, what a concussion and a small scar in the grand scheme of things • Eventually he got over his guilt • And when you two had children of your own one of his favorite stories to tell them is about how their mother defeated a giant metal dragon
Saeyoung/Seven • It was torture trying to push you away for him • And for you too • But you kept pushing, and pushing • You just couldn’t give up • He would hear your sobs through the thin walls, and agonize over the pain he was giving you • But it was for the best • Wasn’t it? • One day was especially bad • “Don’t get near me.” He kept insisting • But you kept pushing it • Eventually he stopped thinking • Shutting down he shoved you into a wall, hard • The room echoed with a crack, amplified to the sound of a gunshot • His façade immediately disappeared when he saw your curling up around your limp arm, your face scratched, the blood sticking in your hair • He scooped you up, running towards his car, asking over and over if you were okay • You were crying into his chest, the pain running through your blood, your ears ringing and your vision half fizzed out • He rushed you to the hospital, and stayed there the whole time • When he was allowed to see you he rushed in • Your arm is in a cast, the bruise climbing up around your joint • Apparently your arm also popped out of its socket • He apologized over and over • And you just said • “I’m happy you don’t hate me.” • After a few weeks in hospital, you had an infection and it took a bit longer that expected • He helps you get into your house, where you immediately go to your room • After a while he knocks on your door and joins you • You’re snuggling under a bunch of covers and it takes a few minutes top pop your head out • You smile at him • “I’m so happy you don’t hate me.” • “No MC, I could never hate you.” • He kissed you lightly on the forehead • “I love you….”
V • You two were usually really happy together • You leaned on each other and were complete together • But one thing hurt that • The surgery • Whenever if came up you two ended up bickering and pouting for about an hour • And one day Rika inevitably came in • “Just tell me you love her and I’ll be gone!” • “Don’t give me an ultimatum!” • “What, should I just stay here to watch you agonize over another woman!” • That was the last straw • He picked up the first thing he could feel and chucked it at you • It, was his tripod • There was an ear shattering crack • The tripod had broke, and part of it was lodged in your thigh • You grabbed the phone and called an ambulance • V sat there, telling you breathe, trying to comfort you, crying • The ambulance arrived and took you away leaving him • Seven eventually got him over to the hospital • Where you were crying • The bit of tripod cut through nerves, and put a hole in bone • You would never walk again • When he heard that V couldn’t look you in the eye • And if he did you wouldn’t let him Five years later • You had left a long time ago • He saw you sometimes, being wheeled around by Seven or some other member of the RFA • He had gotten the surgery after, to be able to look at the pictures of you scattered around his house • But you never looked at him • He knew it was hist fault, he hurt you so much, he deserved it • So why did it hurt so much?
• He was doing much better • All the drugs had been flushed out of his body • There was one problem left • The PTSD • His attacks, although lessening, were horrible, he couldn’t recognize anyone, he’d scream, throw things, and • You tried to pul lhim out of that darkness, but it took a long time • One day it must’ve been especially bad • You reached out to touch him • And he swiftly took you arm and snapped it • The pain was disconnecting, what was going on, you felt like you were on fire • Who was screaming? • Was it me? • While you were grabbing for your phone to call an ambulance Saeyoung ra in • Pushing past Saeran he scooped you up and took you to the hospital • Saeran just stood there • It took about half and hour for him to process everything • And when he finally woke up it was Hell • He ran to the hospital • When he got there, the whole RFA was there • Saeyoung walked up to him • “She’s in surgery right now, they thought it’d be prudent to take care of it right away.” • Those words chucked Saeran out to sea • He couldn’t process anything, it was like the ground underneath him was made of glass, and he’d just shattered it • It took a few hours, but finally you were allowed visitors • And when he stepped in he knew he was lost again • Your arm was in a metal brace, stitches spiraled down you arm, neat and carefully done, holes pocketed your skin where pieces of bone and vaccines were • The RFA surrounded you, asking if you were in pain, did you need water, smothering you • Saeran stayed in the corner, looking at the people outside passing by, leaning against the wall • “You need to talk to her.” • Saeyoung had snuck up behind him and put his hand on his brother’s shoulder • “She won’t want to see me.” He said flatly • “How do you know what she’s thinking right now? Have you asked her? You matter to her, no matter what she thinks of you, she’ll still want to talk.” • Saeran looked at his brother. “And if she hates me?” • “Well then you know, besides, I don’t think she hates you, she’s too proccupied.” Saeran nodded and, as the RFA began trickling out, walked up to you • “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.” • You looked at him, curiosity written all over your face
“Why is it your fault that you have PTSD?”
Saeran looked up at you, disbelief written all over his face, but you were dead serious
“It’s not the fault of the people who have cancer that they have it, why should it be any different for people with mental issues. Sure I’m really mad, I’m frustrated, I hate this scar, but that doesn’t mean it’s your fault you have PTSD.”
You two talked a long time
And came to a decision
Saeran would go see a professional psychiatrist regularly, and take medication as long as possible
The attacks stopped
He recovered, and what it took was hurting the one he loved the most
Kids, this is why you don’t run with sharp things
It was a week before April Fools Day, and Saeyoung was having the time of his life
Constant pranks on Vanderwood
It was driving them crazy, and one day it got to much
The next time Seven tried it again Vanderwood has scissors
They were goofing off, running around, chasing each other
When you had the misfortune to walk in
The room was chaos
But that wasn’t the problem
The problem was that Vanderwood had run into you
As had their scissors
Right into your shoulder
You screamed, and at first they weren’t sure why
Then they saw the scissors lodged in you
Panic mode officially on
The drove you to the hospital, insisting that you mustn’t pull it out, it could cause nerve damage
It’s good they did, because the doctors later said that themselves
The procedure wasn’t horrible
Stitches, salve, then in bed
Unfortunately, it would leave a bunch of scars all over your back
You hated those scars, they were ugly, and they were there for such a stupid reason
Every time you saw them poking out behind your sleeves
Vanderwood felt horrible
You didn’t let it show that they were a bother in front of them
But they knew
Eventually they confronted you
“Do you hate me?”
“Why would I?”
“Because of your back.”
You flinched, and Vanderwood thought they were a goner
“I understand if you never want to see me again.”
Those words echoed throughout them, and their face furrowed in confusion
“I may hate them, and sometimes I may not want to see you, but that doesn’t mean that I want to never see you ever again. That’d be ridiculous.”
You hugged them tightly
“It may have been your fault, but that doesn’t mean I should hate you forever.”
Vanderwood was never more grateful in their life
OH MY GOD IT’S DONE!!! Now here’s to hoping it doesn’t delete FOR THE FIFTH TIME while I’m writing the closing. I’m super sorry. I lost power for over two days, then it kept deleting, it was just a nightmare. I hope you liked, and I tried to vary it. I feel so bad about Baehee and V, but I just felt like I needed to. I hope this helps you and your need for angst!! Thank you for requesting this and hope you like!
Summary: After a series of events leave her life in pieces, Emma Swan finds herself hitchhiking out of Maine, her wallet empty and her heart broken. The best she hopes for is a driver who isn’t a pervert and takes her far away from the painful memories of Storeybrooke. But when she finds a ride with a quiet truck driver named Jones, Emma discovers that maybe a trustworthy friend is all she needs.
Note: This chapter was originally split up into two parts, and I was only going to post the first. But then I watched tonight’s episode of this @$%#ing show and i have such a major case of viewer’s blue balls that I figured it would be mean to do the same to my lovely readers. Please enjoy this monster chapter. Bless.
Don’t freeze out there, huh? Good
advice, but hard to follow, Emma thought sourly, as they left the warm,
comfortingly grease-scented air of the bar behind. It had already been cold
outside when they arrived, but the temperature seemed to have dropped even further
while they were inside, and a light snow was falling. She pulled her coat’s
hood up with one hand, then returned it to Jones’ arm, keeping a firm grip with
all ten fingers.
He wasn’t staggering anymore, although as they walked slowly across the
parking lot, threading through cars and trucks, his steps were slightly uneven.
Not that she was perfectly steady, herself; Emma could still feel the beer
pounding through her veins, making her a little dizzy. Their breath formed
clouds in the freezing air, and Emma longed to call a cab, even just for a
65: “Do you ever think that, maybe, we should stop doing this?”
It happens so quickly that Neil doesn’t have the chance to get his anger back in its usual chokehold. One of the opposing team’s strikers clearly has too much momentum going into his goal, he’s gone over his step limit and he’s careening towards Andrew in goal.
Neil drops his racquet and slips his mark, watching impotently as striker, goalkeeper, and net all go tumbling into the far wall of the court, Andrew pinned under the mess and visibly struggling.
“Andrew,” Neil yells, skidding over to them and wrenching bulky arms and heavy netting out of the way. Andrew’s face is cool and closed off as ever, but sweat is plastering his hair and his breaths are shallow. “Andrew, are you okay?”
He rolls out from the weight and gets up angrily, Neil can see it lancing down his legs and shaking his balance just a little. Afraid and furious for being so. Neil wheels around on the striker who’s sitting up dumbly with the goal half pinning him.
“Glad to see you have as little control over your legs as your team does over their offence,” Neil snarls, and he hoists the guy up by his jersey so hard that it rips. He’s twice his size but Neil’s pure adrenaline, he’s a sharp cleaver on a helpless neck. “At least you’re consistent.” He shoves him back hard, and he gets a glimpse of the striker’s fearful pinched face before he gets knocked out on the corner of the goal.
Andrew has him by the neck of his jersey in the next minute, yanking him back too late.
“I hope it was worth it,” he hisses in his ear, and then Neil notices the red card being thrown up, the coach screaming at him from the sidelines. He can’t feel anything but numb relief.
It’s like the twin of Neil’s showdown with the ravens in his first year as a fox, the brutal body slam, the panic from across the court. Years later and he’d still rip his racquet or his contract with Ichirou in half if it meant keeping Andrew safe.
“It was,” he says confidently. He watches Andrew carefully for pain he would never communicate, tracking his easy stance, his controlled breathing.
“Your energy is misguided, as usual,” Andrew says. “You’ve killed the game.”
“I know,” Neil says fiercely. “But I couldn’t just let him—“
“Don’t confuse your problems with mine.”
“My problems are your problems, Andrew, we’re a team.” In every way.
a banghim one-shot inspired by the prompts I received today. includes himchan worrying about yongguk this comeback. angst. ot6 feels. fluff.
It’s common knowledge that Bang Yongguk barely sleeps.
If you were to rank B.A.P by their sleeping problems, the leader is the obvious
number one. Daehyun would come second, even if it’s with a margin. Jongup is
undoubtedly last; the guy is like a damn cat. Junhong only has trouble falling
asleep right before big performances. Youngjae falls asleep less than five
minutes after the lights go out.
Himchan can’t sleep when he worries. When heavy
thoughts won’t stop circling like vultures inside his head. Those nights he
toss and turn until the bed doesn’t feel comfortable anymore, and he has to get
up and do something else not to go crazy.
When Yongguk still lived in the dorm, those were the
nights Himchan would find the leader sitting with his laptop and awful posture
somewhere in the dark. He’d take a bottle from their stash and force Yongguk to
talk to him until he felt tired again. Usually he’d manage to drag the oldest
with him to bed by that time as well, right before sunrise. They’d have a bit
of a headache the next morning, but at least they’d gotten a few hours
shut-eye. It had worked. It had been easy.
Do you have any modern-day elorcan headcannons ?? I love your blog btw and find it incomprehensible that your original posts don't get more posts ! tysm and have a nice day xx
You and I have that in common
Modern AU’s are my favourite AU’s because there is no need for angst and i can do whatever tf I want
-Elide and Lorcan met at starbucks (ik v cliche) and basically Elide was studying and had dat aesthetic vibe going and Lorcan was there with Fenrys and they were going over their notes and Fenrys starts to get bored so he airdrops a pic of a goofy baby husky on starbucks wifi just for the heck of it and Elide is the one who reacts pretty loudly and they both turn around to see her having startled and spilled a lot of her drink over herself and Lorcan comes over and apologises and omg he can see through her shirt omg look away wait but her boobs are really nice and Elide notices his flustered behaviour but accepts his offer to get her a few napkins from the front and go to the bathroom to wipe her down and basically they end up making out lmao
-They find out that they study in the same uni but haven’t really noticed each other bc of happenstance and both of them aren’t ones to draw attention to themselves a lot but after that incident they start to sorta clock each other out
-fast forward to them dating and also being roommates (is that how it works? idk??) and they love each other and are v happy together
-Lorcan goes to the gym nightly and comes back all sweaty and delicious and Elide is just like :0
-They both get coffee regularly and go to little cafes and breakfast places (IHOP and Denny’s are their favs)
-if you look through my other elorcan headcanons you’ll find some about their social medias basically Elide is aesthetic in every sense and Lorcan is a sassy little shit in 140 characters and everyone loves it
-Movie nights and pamper evenings galooorrreee
-Elide loves to bake and Lorcan loves to eat so it works out v well and sometimes too well when “LORCAN I JUST MADE THOSE WHERE DID THEY GO???” I thought you were making them for us wtf Elide?? “ATLEAST WAIT TILL THEY’RE OUT OF THEM OVEN FFS
-This also gives way to ahem ahem chocolatey make-out sessions
-Elide always takes candids of him and he secretly likes it but also uploads them to twitter with captions like “she literally shouted to stay in this position smh Elide I thought there was a bee or smth” and “dear god can we stop with this already” but everyone likes these tweets and ships them
-Lorcan takes private photos of Elide that he will never share with anyone ever but he just likes to take snapshots like when she’s brushing her hair or when she’s reading or relaxing etc
-Elide drew the line when he took a photo of her post sex state with hair sticking on her forehead and boobs on full display and Lorcan whined saying what am I supposed to do when I’m alone then huh
-Elide is the one that gets the aesthetic and nice pillows for their bed while Lorcan will get geeky star wars shit that does NOT match with her theme goddammit Lorcan
-They have the same number of little ones as in my other headcanons and Lorcan’s feed is FILLED with pics of them or sarcastic tweets like Ryan Reynolds
-Elide loves being a mom and gets all those matching outfits and cutesy things for babies and their are pics on her instagram of Marion sleeping peacefully in her bunny pajamas and an occasional of daddy and babies all cuddled up together or painting and all that shizz
-Everything constitutes as a date once they have too many kids to be able to slip away properly, going to the grocery store alone or just with one kiddie is a date, dinner in bed is a date, movie night is a date EVERYTHING IS A DATE
Intro: So I got the Spock feels the other day (thanks to @storiesfromstarfleet) and so I spit out this little baby fic because I was feeling kinda down and wanted some Spock fluff and cuddles.
Pairing: Spock x reader
Word Count: 1168
Summary: Reader is having a weird/anxious-y kinda day and Spock is there for cuddles. Fluff. That is all.
You heard your name from across the room, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond to the familiar voice.
“Are you still in bed? We need to leave soon.”
You curled yourself tighter in the blankets and whimpered softly in to the pillow.
“I don’t think I can go, Spock.” You croaked from your fetal position on the bed, unsure if he could even hear you.
Soft, even footfalls sounded on the thin carpet as Spock rounded the bed, and soon his dark, tall form appeared in your view. You barely looked up at him as you drew the blankets tighter around your chin.
“Do you feel ill?” Spock asked, his voice soft with concern.
You shook your head, messing up your hair as it rubbed against the pillow.
“Then what is the matter?”
The question almost brought tears to your eyes and you managed a shrug, staring only at the space between his kneecaps.
“Ashayam, you must tell me what is wrong or I cannot help you.” Spock squatted down in front of you now, his eyes becoming level with yours, a look of worry lining his features.
“I don’t think I can go today.” You mumbled, your heart clenching and unclenching inside your chest, making it hard to breathe.
“You must come, Y/N, it is a very important event.” Spock stated.
Guilty tears began to roll down your cheeks, hot and thick, at the thought of disappointing Spock, and at your sudden change in emotion Spock’s features changed from worry to deep concern and alarm.
He is blazing warmth, smiling eyes and glowing cheeks; the golden rays luminescent on his skin and you can’t stop your heartstrings tugging, a fast rhythm missing one beat when he turns to you, a face that lights up and speaks your name.
The world seemed to revolve around him, everything in creation built and made. He is the brightest star, holding the adoration of countless and the center of your shared group of friends. Friends.
That’s what you were to him.
Someone who he could depend on without needing to return a favour, someone who he could spill all secrets to and not worry about slips of the lips to strangers; someone who he could share with all the girls whom he was infatuation with. He looked at you like a friend and you couldn’t help your softened eyes and gaze that lingered, even when he already looked away.