#About how they have already done it once.
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seungcheorry · 3 days ago
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Ot13 reaction on how many kids SVT would have?
how many kids svt would have:
seungcheol probably wants to have two at least. i can picture him having a baby girl and then getting too excited once his partner is free from the whole post partum thing and getting them pregnant again right afterwards. he would really wish for a baby boy then.
jeonghan would love to have two as well, and i can see him having twins - i don't know why, something in him just screams FATHER OF TWINS to me. probably two girls? it's a lot of work though, he'll be done with having kids, would probably even do the surgery so he can't have any anymore.
joshua is very similar to seungcheol to me, would probably have a boy and then get too excited and have a girl because his dna is just good like that. the prettiest kids to ever exist actually, and he's so in love with them that it can be quite easy to talk him into having another one after a few years.
junhui screams boy dad to me, so yeah. i can see him having only one child, a really savage boy just like minghao was back in the day? weird but in a good, chomical way. he would be really good friends with his kid, like a partners in crime type of relationship.
soonyoung... oh, soonyoung. he says he wants to have lots and lots of kids because he loves having his house full but after the first one - a baby boy -, he gets so tired that he actually apologizes to his mom. might slip or be talked into having another one (he just wants his kid to have a relationship like the one he has with his sister); would really hope for a girl then, would probably get another boy though.
wonwoo is a definitely a girl dad too. he would really hope for a boy (i don't know why, i just feel like he would) but then it comes a baby girl and he turns into mush for her. such a goner, i can't even begin to describe - she can tell him to stay put for 20 whole minutes while she pretends to make tea and he won't move a muscle, just stay there and watch her because she told him to. would probably just want one.
jihoon is a girl dad and i will die on this hill. he's also a goner for his girl, he's very strict with things but also he doesn't like to be rough to her so he's just, i don't know, the perfect balance? most likely to be the favorite parent and learn about his daughter secrets before his partner because she just trusts him like that. would also just want one.
seokmin would love three - the first one (a boy) is probably planned; the second one (a girl) is probably an expected accident as he doesn't mind having sex without protection even though he knows the risks; the third one (another boy) is probably an unexpected accident that he cries in joy when he sees for the first time. he would definitely tell his partner "i'm so glad we got drunk that night" while seeing his two oldest children ganging up to change the new baby's diaper.
mingyu definitely wants two kids, he loves his sister too much and knows how a sibling relationship can literally save someone. most likely to have two girls, and his partner might ask him if he isn't sad that they didn't have a boy but he's too busy to answer as he's teaching the girls how to make ramyeon :(
minghao already said himself, he's not the one who gets to decide how many kids he and his partner will have, but he wants two - and can be bend into having a third one. i can see him having a boy and then a girl, and if he and his partner decides for another one, then it would be another girl, probably.
seungkwan would have two girls and his dramatic ass would say it's karma because what do you mean he grew up with his older sisters and now he has to take care of yet other two girls who will bicker and gang up on him just like his sisters did? behind that facade though he would love to take care of them and to see them grow together. most emotional dad, for sure.
vernon is a boy dad to me and he would say he only wants one kid but then he sees him growing up on his own and don't get me wrong, the kid is totally fine with it, but vernon can't stop thinking about how sofia changed his life and he would go "yeah, we might need another one" to his partner. makes a whole deal about it when he finds out his second child is gonna be a girl. "REALLY, WHAT ARE THE ODDS?"... but it's not that hard, vernon. i'm glad you're happy though, i know you love your kids.
chan is also a boy dad and he would probably want another kid but once he realizes how much work and effort it takes, he's sticking to just one. if his partner ever wants another one they would have to really talk him into it, might even need to ask seokmin for help, because chan would stand his ground and say no. but honestly? he's a loverboy, at the end he might just say yes and then meet his cute little daughter and be like "oh my god, why didn't we make her sooner?"
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random2908 · 3 days ago
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Ok, I have a lot to say about scientific glassblowers.
First, luckily, there are a lot of them in China who are very good. If, like me, you work in private industry, the government has rules against buying Chinese components. But there's at least one American company (FireflySci) that launders Chinese custom scientific glass components, so you can still get them. If you're in academia you can buy direct from China and save a ton of money, if you or a colleague knows enough Chinese to be able to find these glassblowers on your own.
Within America, you have to know, the quality varies immensely. Scientific glassblowing is one of those trades that takes like 20 years to master. So there is a huge tension between the old masters who are really really good but have significant limitations in their capabilities because they're using old techniques; and the younger glassblowers who are learning or inventing new techniques but don't have the hand-skills to pull them off successfully. In larger shops, you can have a mix of ages, and so get around this a bit--but larger shops mostly don't do (serious) custom work. And often these larger shops are an in-house shop within an even bigger company.
For a lot of things, though, any scientific glassblower will do. In which case, you can still find them scattered all over the country. When I was dealing in glass a lot at a previous job, we had a long-standing contract with a glassblower about two hours away, who did all of our simpler stuff. There was a closer one, too, 20 minutes away, I'm not sure why we didn't go with them, I think because they had too much work already to take a long-term contract with us. So, yes, you can still find glassblowers, although not in large quantities.
But sometimes you need something really precise. This is science, after all. And your local glass shop just can't do it.
So then you have to find an old master using newer techniques. (I recommend Mike at Spectrocell in Pennsylvania, careful of the spelling--there are many similarly named companies--but he sounds very old over the phone.) (I know a lot of scientists will say Jay at Precision Glass Blowing in Colorado is the only guy they will go to for serious work, and I have some rude things to say to such scientists; not that Precision Glass Blowing does a bad job (...at the glassblowing part, that is--buyer beware if you ask for extras from them, but their willingness to offer extra services, such as chemical handling, is why everyone uses them in the first place), but they're not the only, or best, option out there.)
Get talking with an old master, and they'll constantly complain about how they've run out of apprentices. It is a real problem. It is a dying art, within the United States. (And, despite "scientific" in the name, it is very much an art; "scientific" refers to the customer base.) When I was collaborating with the University of Michigan at a previous job, the Chemistry Department's glassblower, Roy, was complaining that he was in his 70s and it had been several decades since he last had an apprentice, and he was going to retire any day now and the university would have no one to replace him with. (It wouldn't at all surprise me if he's retire by now, and if you could no longer get custom glass in-house at the University of Michigan.)
The irony is that there's still significant demand! Not as much as there once was, because you can buy mass-produced beakers now, you don't have to go to your local scientific glassblower for some of the simpler components. But for anything at all custom? For anything at all delicate? That's still done by hand. There's still a glassblower, somewhere, probably in China, whose handicraft that is. But like all trades, scientific glassblowing in the US has been almost entirely undercut by the availability of cheap labor (even cheap skilled labor, even cheap mastery) in other countries.
the world is running out of glassblowers and yet you want to become a fucking doctor
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honestlyanowl · 1 day ago
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Arcane women with a flirty and seductive reader?
Hey doll <3
As soon as I read this I knew I had to write about it!
Content: head cannons with a small amount of nsfw - lingerie description, flirting, slight power play if you squint
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I feel like considering Caitlyn’s busy job, on a constant trial and error to find Jinx; she wouldn’t have a whole lot of time to spend with you.
She’s the kind of person to be walking through the streets of Piltover on a patrol, and see a lingerie set through one of the shop’s windows; and buy it instantly for you, as an apology.
By now you’d probably have a whole wardrobe of laced underwear and ruffled bras, the materials would always be comfortable and top quality, and sometimes, if she felt really bad; it’d even be custom made to fit your body perfectly.
However, the times she did have off to relax, you’d make sure to use it to your advantage.
Though Caitlyn wasn’t entirely the type to indulge in your seductive antics and teasing hip sways, some nights she’d give in and let her eyes wander.
She was definitely a more observant person, usually not putting her hands on you unless you verbally asked for it, most of the time she’d just let her gaze rack shamelessly over you.
She adored your body, and that was not an understatement, it didn’t matter what you did, if you used the products she’d spoilt you with or even didn’t do anything to pamper your appearance at all, she still sat in awe every time, in her eyes, you were perfect.
And luckily for you, she wasn’t the type to deny you for long. It only took a few tempting looks and discreet leg spreading for her to give in, soon having you splayed on the large king queen sized bed.
Now she could really look at you.
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Sevika would definitely be possessive over you.
Which for you, meant there were a lot of rules. Revealing clothes? Only for her eyes, but there were occasions she’d purposely send you out with certain attire, she liked showing you off.
If there was an occasion you’d try seduce her, she’d most likely tease you with dump play, and brush the attempts off for a good while before even considering actually touching you.
The only downside was if you even tried to force it on her, like you’d done once or twice; straddle her lap, twirl her hair, or put your hands on her? you’re not getting anything.
She’d make it clear who was in control; sit you beside her, on the floor.
Talk down to you and even extinguishing the end of her cigar onto the skin of your shoulders. Before kissing the little blisters better, of course.
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I feel like Jinx would be good at clothing design, you see a lot of fabrics reused in her wardrobe. So who’s to say she wouldn’t make you things time to time?
Vibrant multi patterned lingerie, patches sewed into and over the mesh in places that needed to be bigger, or she’d staple edges together to make it a bit smaller.
And if you wore it?
Her hands would be all over you, she didn’t need to be seduced to already have you pulled up against her, feeling over your hips, your back, your chest; especially your chest.
She had zero self control when it came to you, she was infatuated.
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You never realised how easily Vi could give into your antics, you’d always expected her to be the one bossing you around, that she would be the one with the self control.
You were quickly proven wrong, if you even had an inch of skin lower than your cleavage visible, or the beginning of your upper thighs peeking out… she was a mess.
It was almost pitiful how easily she’d fall for advances.
You sit yourself in her lap? Her hands would tremble on your sides, stuffing her face into your shoulder.
And if you teased her? Rolling your hips, and yet not allowing her to touch anymore skin then what was exposed?
She would whine, calloused fingertips dragging across your shoulders.
But luckily for her you didn’t have the heart to prologue it, and within a few minutes deep purple hickeys scattered every inch of skin she could reach.
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- Owl 🌹
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jinwoosbabyboo · 4 hours ago
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Sick & Tired
How I imagine the LADS Men take care of you when you're sick [requested by: depressed but well dressed anon]
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𝚉𝚊𝚢𝚗𝚎
ready and willing to take care of you, but also is in his ‘I told you so’ era because he knew you’d end up getting sick
will do everything and anything you tell him
would let you lay on his shoulder or in his lap while you nap
even though he’s with you constantly to take care of you he somehow manages to not get sick
brings you medicine and a glass of water
cooks you homemade soup and will feed you if you let him
depending on how sick you are he would take time off from work to look after you
for my girlies who cry a little when they dont feel good he would wipe your tears for you “Don’t cry this sickness is only temporary”
if hes still working he’ll always try to be there until you fall asleep and rushes home to you
leaves soup in the fridge for you when he’s not there
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𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚕
teases you for getting sick until he realizes youre sad “Aw cutie are you not feeling well?” “I hate it here” “Tell me what you need”
Doesn’t want to get sick so yes he’d bring you whatever you ask for but he’s wearing a mask and gloves ; avoids kisses “once you’re no longer contagious I'll give you a kiss”
doesn’t mind telling you stories or humming you songs to get you to sleep
would feed you, but be prepared to never hear the end of it “You’re just a sick girl who needs my help in your time of need I know I know my services are impeccable” “Can I have my tea now?”
mocks and teases you when you get fussy about anything “I can’t stand you” “Good thing you’re laying down then huh?”
gets sick anyway because his dumbass would eat off your spoon/fork or drink something of yours
you two end up sick in bed together and he’s even more whiny now
lots of cuddles and kisses now since he got himself sick
doom scrolls with you while laying in your lap
Thomas has to come and take care of the two of you
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𝚇𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚎𝚛
I wouldn't be me if I didn’t say it ; PAGING NURSE XAVIER
he’s at your side in a split second
so excited to have free reign in your kitchen ; immediately tries to make you soup and burns the pot
blows the kitchen up in your house/apartment ends up having to take care of you at his place
finally orders you soup and medicine after you cried because you didn’t want his cooking
he sleeps when you sleep
constantly checking your temperature
doesn’t mind carrying you around the house he knows you can walk, but he likes having you draped over him
blows your nose for you ; puts the tissue to your nose “Blow.” “Thats what she said” “…..your snot is dripping please blow”
sore throat? he’s right there daily with a spoonful of honey “Here its good for you”
can easily handle you when you get fussy about taking medicine “That was quite the tantrum” as he shoves the medicine in your mouth
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𝚂𝚢𝚕𝚞𝚜
already knew you were coming down with something he already has everything ready to go
picks you up and takes you to his place ;has his chef prepare home remedies tailored just for you
brings you everything himself ; you also have the twins at your disposal
sits bedside and encourages you to eat as much as you can “take two more bites and then you can go back to sleep”
still tries to kiss you even though you’re sick because he doesn’t give a damn “Sylus I'll get you sick stop” steals a kiss here and there anyway ; gets sick like two weeks later
wipes and blows your nose for you “You look like a sick kitten” “Shut it”
doesn’t care when you get fussy about taking medicine “Are you done? Good. Here.”
if you want to stay in bed all day thats fine ; if you want to cling to him like a Koala around the house thats fine too he’ll carry you
lets you sleep on him and steal his warmth
checks your breathing when you sleep longer than usual
leaves the twins to keep an eye on you if he needs to step out ; leaves Mephisto to watch you if he needs to take the twins with him
the type to give you a massage even if you’re not having body aches
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𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋
is already at your doorstep with groceries and medicine
keeps you close to him and in sight at all times
your personal chef truly ; he’s wrapping you in a blanket and laying you on the couch while he makes you something to eat
checks your temperature regularly ; gives you medicine like clockwork
spoon feeds you so you don’t have to lift a finger
reminds you that you don’t need to thank him ; he’ll always take care of you no matter what
cuddles you while you sleep after cleaning your place ; puts a humidifier in your room if you’re congested
tries to make you laugh so you’re not sad ; reminds you that he’ll always be there for you so no need to be sad
wipes and blows your nose for you “Your scrunched up face is adorable”
teases you if you ask for a massage if you’re having body aches ; of course he’s overjoyed to do it though “You know I'll give you a massage whenever you want”
says he won’t kiss you while your sick ; ends up kissing you out of habit and gets a little sick “Now it’s your turn to take care of me”
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ayumigotabittoolonely · 14 hours ago
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Nerd gojo x nerd reader! Headcanons
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Nerd!Gojo x Nerd!You Headcanons
♡ Gojo Satoru, the prodigy. The guy who solves complex math problems in his head like it’s a simple 2+2. If someone ask him how, he’ll just smirk and say, “Just run your mind faster.” As if that makes sense.
♡ Gojo, the last-minute genius. He does his assignments at the last possible second but still gets a perfect score. People have accused him of using black magic. He doesn’t deny it.
♡ Gojo, the overanalyzer. Someone calls him a know it all as a joke, and next thing they know, they’re stuck listening to a 30-minute breakdown of why intelligence is subjective and how human perception affects knowledge.
♡ Gojo, the human stopwatch. He calculates the exact time people take to do the most random things:
Shoko takes exactly 3.2 seconds to process a joke before laughing.
Suguru sniffs his food for 2.6 seconds before deciding if it’s poisoned.
His teacher blinks an average of 18 times per minute when lecturing.
♡ Gojo, the walking encyclopedia. He acts like he knows everything psychology, physics, chemistry, math. Whether he actually does or not is debatable, but he’ll never admit he’s wrong.
♡ Gojo, the fact machine. He drops random trivia constantly, just to flex. “Did you know honey never spoils?” “Gojo, no one cares.”
♡ Gojo, the exam escape artist. He drags Suguru out to do something totally unproductive before exams, but somehow still tops the class while Suguru barely passes. Suguru has stopped questioning it.
♡ Gojo, the romance skeptic. Laughs in the face of love at first sight, listing the exact probability of it happening.
♡ Gojo, the worst date ever. He once explained The Art of War on a date. The girl left before dessert. He still doesn’t know why.
♡ Gojo, the secret romance reader. He totally didn’t get caught reading a romance novel in the library. And he totally didn’t like it.
Then, there’s you.
♡ You, the transfer student. No expression. No reaction. The class went dead silent when you walked in, as if even breathing would be too loud. The teacher praised you, and you just nodded like it didn’t matter.
♡ You, Gojo’s accidental rival. Sitting next to him was a nightmare. He asked the most stupid questions, and you ignored all of them. He assumed you were just an edgy wannabe. That made him laugh.
♡ You, the real threat. When exam results came out, Gojo was shook. For the first time, he wasn’t the top scorer. You were. And your reaction? A shrug. No smile, no satisfaction. That’s when you became interesting.
♡ Gojo, the forced study partner. He forced the teacher to make you his partner. You weren’t amused.
“Why do I need to do practicals if I already know the answer?” you questioned
“To see if it’s true or not, dummy.” He grinned, waiting for your response.
“If it’s in the book, it’s already true.” He had never wanted to strangle someone and marry them at the same time before.
♡ Gojo, the doomed fool. No one ever entertained his nerdy ramblings, but you? You matched his energy. When you started debating him on his own topics, he knew he was done for.
♡ Gojo, the AI skeptic. He swears you talk like a robot.
“That’s not an effective method.”
“This is scientifically incorrect.”
“Are you a government experiment?”
♡ Gojo, the challenge seeker. He constantly challenged you to competitions. You refused every time. “Not interested in unnecessary drama.” That hurt his soul.
♡ Gojo, the frustrated observer. He needed to see a crack in your facade. Anything. He studied your every move, trying to prove you weren’t an AI.
♡ Gojo, the mimic. He caught you muttering the pi table to regain focus. He immediately adopted the technique.
♡ Gojo, the sore winner. If he scored higher than you, he wasn’t happy he was annoyed. What’s the point if you don’t even care?
♡ Gojo, the reluctant believer. He told you about his hobbies with way too much excitement. You told him about yours, but your blank expression made him question if you were lying.
♡ Gojo, the paranoid calculator. He tried analyzing your movements, but everything about you was too precise. It freaked him out.
♡ Gojo, the not-so-subtle spy. Since you lived next to Suguru, he used that as an excuse to observe you. Every time he saw you, you were either studying or staring out the window like a lifeless statue. You caught him multiple times. Instead of yelling, you just stared at him. It was terrifying.
♡ Gojo, the insecure nerd. He nervously brought up Dungeons & Dragons, expecting you to be clueless. Instead, you knew everything. He had never felt average before.
♡ Gojo, the desk menace. He constantly poked you during class, hoping for any reaction. You just stared at him, unblinking, until he became flustered and left.
♡ Gojo, the insane conversationalist. He told you the wildest theories, and you listened like it was just another casual conversation. It drove him insane.
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It took me 4 days to think of a gojo nerd scenerio 😭
And you GUYS HAVE TO REQUEST DO IT
Part 2 will be here
@naomigojo
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ollieofthebeholder · 9 hours ago
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I used to get violently ill every time my church had a celebration. Like, VIOLENTLY ill. I was fine with the regular potluck, but if it was, like, a graduation party, with cake and a punch bowl and all of that? I would be sick most of the night. I spent about ten years getting scolded for eating too much cake at these celebrations, as it was assumed that I, as an obviously fat child with no self-control, was simply lying when I said I'd only had one piece, or that I hadn't even had any because it was obviously whipped icing and I hated whipped icing.
Then when I was about fifteen or so, I was waiting patiently for the woman in charge of the punch bowl to add more soda so I could have a second cup of punch in hopes that the carbonation would settle my stomach, which was already starting to hurt, because the rest of the guests had drained it dry. I watched her come out with the bottle. I watched her pour it. I noted the paler label on the soda bottle. I expressed surprise (and mild dismay) that she was using diet soda in the punch bowl.
I was informed that she always used diet soda in the punch bowl.
It might seem like not such a big deal to YOU, because it tastes just as good and it's healthier and you don't need that much sugar anyway and and and...I've heard all the excuses, trust me. But saccharine triggers migraines, and sucralose gives me digestive issues, and aspartame does both, and even stevia makes my mouth hurt. I cannot drink diet sodas without getting sick.
And because nobody told me that was what was going on, I spent ten years getting fat-shamed by people who were trying to fix the wrong problem.
I'm also allergic to grapes. Guess what one of the most common filler juices is. Guess how many commercial cookies have raisin paste in them. Guess how many recipes use wine, or sherry, or brandy. (That's also one I have a lot of people trying to fix the wrong problem with. I ask if there's wine because the recipe commonly has wine in it, they assure me that even if it DOES the alcohol all cooks out, I explain that you can't cook out the grape, they get a very panicked look and say they'll find out.) Did you know that cream of tartar is a byproduct of wine making, and that cookies (like traditional snickerdoodles) that have cream of tartar in them are therefore unsafe for someone like me?
I'm also allergic to bananas. Guess what the most common egg substitute is in vegan baking.
And you know what? My brother hates mayonnaise. Absolutely loathes it. It's not an allergy thing, he just doesn't like it. And I still wouldn't give him food that had mayo in it without telling him. (I did once, at my mother's instigation. I'd made a pasta salad in scouts and brought it home for dinner, and my mother told him it had marshmallow fluff in it. He ate it, and afterwards, she told me to tell him what was REALLY in it. He threw up. Don't know if it was a genuine reaction or just him making a point. Don't care. I've never done that since.)
Don't sneak people food without telling them what's in it. Even if you want to show them that something is just as good as [insert food here], even if you know it's just a preference and not an allergy...just. Give them the courtesy of making their own damn decisions.
“Meatless alternatives are getting so good, you should try them! I bet you wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference! In fact….”
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Please
Please
Please stop trying to sneak-feed me meat alternatives.
I am willing to prepare and share a vegan meal with you, I’m willing to skip animal products in our group spaces.
Please.
Stop trying to sneak-feed me meat alternatives.
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kamospeach · 2 days ago
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told you i like gentle giants so you softened up .ᐟ
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plot: ceo!sukuna and the woman he was forced to marry finally learning to get along.
content warning: none at all. it's not 18+ but if i make a fic it will be.
peachy's yap: i wanna make this into a fic but im not 100% sure yet, lmk ! no smut just a small fluff to test out the waters. one last one shot coming until i go on a lil break.
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this wasn't what you wanted at all. ever since you were a little girl you planned to get married to a caring man. years later give birth to a love child hold he or she in your arms as you and your loving husband smiled at one another.
that dream was gone now and here you were a year after your wedding. terrified to even knock on the door of his study knowing his temper was off the wall at the moment. when you were cooped up in your hobby room you could hear him barking orders. while you sat in silence writing novel after novel he forbade you to publish.
this was your everyday, wake up alone, eat alone, write alone, shower alone, watch movies alone, and even go to sleep alone. he was in his study night and day until his hefty body slipped into your shared bed waking you at 2am. he didn't bother to apologize he just turned away going to sleep himself. and yet you found yourself wanting to be close to sukuna.
you sighed already knowing the conversation you both were bound to have today... just like every month for the last year. you were given to him for your writing and negotiating skills. his father the previous boss offered to pay your father millions to suspend the contract at your job for you to work for them. all for money. you raised your hand knocing on the wretched door.
you and sukuna moved into this house 6 months ago and it felt like you'd been locked away in a tower. although sukuna never listened to your ideas or let you have your way about anything he left the house details to you. he stood back as you worked with the sketchy architect who purposely looked down your blouse (his words).
he let you pick out the number of rooms, and bathrooms. the ceiling height, the shape of the pool, even how many patio chairs you wanted. he let you decorate the house pick the colors, even would let you throw splashes of pink and purple where ever you pleased. but you never did it, you didn't want to do it if not with sukuna.
but to sukuna none of this mattered because his work was more important. in his words he said 'i'll let you deal with less important matters. at least im positive you won't fuck that up.' did that statement hurt? hell yeah but even then you still wanted to be close to him.
"s...sukuna?" you stuttered waiting to hear his gruff voice.
"get in here." he said sternly and you pushed the heavy doors open, struggling at the weight. once you pushed in you stood by the door hands behind your back fingers laced. "sit." he said pointing to the chair in front of his desk and you scurry not wanting to anger him.
"i'm sorry i didn't come sooner i was writing and i had a idea i couldn't lose." you plead his eyes never left yours. he face expression neither annoyed nor pleased.
"why must you continue writing, when you have a duty to fulfill here." he grumbled and you looked down at your thumbs.
"sukuna you wont let me go with you to negotiate that's all m'good for." you say and he scoffs at your excuse.
"you are here to write contracts and negotiate deals you have not done any of that over the last year!" he said his voice raising, by no means were you a push over. scared of this big, brolic, hunk definitely but one thing you'll never be is a punk.
"you have yet to assign me any work. i know what you'll say 'you should come ask me if there's anything to do' but you are my boss. you instruct i follow, i refuse to do anything for you if you can not request it on your own." your reply was calm, you didn't want to anger him further.
"i don't want to overwhelm you," he sighs. his strict facade dropping as he handed you papers and you hum. looking down at the papers it was full of stats and numbers that made your head spin. "this is everyday work for me, i need your help but i must figure it out alone."
"the numbers are a bit crazy but it's not much to find a way to make a deal that'll pretty up the numbers." you tell him and he nods.
"how?" he asked and you looked up at him. this was the first time sukuna had asked for your help. you were shocked that he even let you know that he needed help.
"i mean your the statistics man. once you work out the numbers we can talk negotiating." you tell him with a smile hoping the sly compliment of him being good with numbers didn't slip past him. his red eyes looked up at you through his thick lashes. the corner of his lips tugging upwards as if he wanted to smile and couldn't.
this day was the first day you sat next to sukuna behind his desk. your knees touched and even that amount of contact was enough for you. you helped him clean up his desk and he didn't object he just said 'make sure you put them where i tell you'. and you did picking up the papers on his desk and organizing them for him. placing them in different stacks based off who and what they were from.
little did you know sukuna admired your every move. he watched how you walked around his office complaining about how dull it was. how your curls bounced with every step you took. he watched you search up paint colors and decor for his office. not once did this distract him, he either hummed in agreement or disagreement as he worked on the numbers.
even days later the connection between sukuna and you began to grow. he listened to your opinions and even stepped out of his office during the day. he came to your writing room to sit and drink coffee with you at 3am when you felt like you had a good idea. he even showed you the room you called the 'junk room' that was quite literally filled with sukuna's junk. he pulled out an electric guitar bragging about how it was signed by one of the best.
he tells you the name as you face scrunches up in confusion never hearing of this man ever. but even your disinterest in that didn't deter his sheer audacity and gall. he called you a degenerate and said you were a bug under a rock. you replied with 'more like a boulder' as you looked him up and down judgingly.
this comment made sukuna laugh, yes actually laugh. from that day you never held in a joke, letting anything on your mind loose. sometimes sukuna would look at you as if you said the stupidest shit on earth. most times he'd shake his head with an endearing smile but 2 times out of 10 he'd laugh.
day after day the more time you spent with sukuna the more you were pulled out of the depression. you watched movies of families with a smile even thinking about having a child with that demon.
in return sukuna became more comfortable approaching you. initially he was scared to anger you or say something that would hurt your feelings. heading his father's warning 'don't talk to her too much. you know how you are, you'll hurt her feelings.' so he listened avoided starting conversation, leaving the bed before you woke up and coming in after you fell asleep. ate in his office and never ever entered your writing room.
that day you came in and told him he was your boss changed his brain chemistry. his father was wrong, he wouldn't hurt your feelings because you wanted him to act like your boss. you could dish it out and take it. that day was when sukuna thought to himself 'i could really get used to this'.
that's why after a month of the two of finally getting along sukuna instructed you to meet him at the dining table. dining table was a stretch as it only had 2 chairs. as you waited for him assuming it was about work you were shocked for sukuna to slam down your houses floorplan.
"it's about time we made this house into a home don't ya think?" he asked looking at you and you smiled. and the two of you sat there all night you sipping on a shirley temple and he drank whiskey. he promised he'd make you cocktails from now on since you found out he was a bartender for all of 3 months.
you planned and brainstormed until the next morning. you were leaned on the table drool coming out of your mouth. sukuna smiled at how comfortable you had became around him. he lifted you and carried you up the stairs. that was the first day sukuna felt like he was really a husband. that day was when sukuna swore to himself that he would be a husband.
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the-palelady · 16 hours ago
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You were a nurse at what could barely be called a clinic, simply a little office inside the just as meager town hall. However, you still took your job seriously, tending to your patient’s one by one, never allowing any of them to step outside of the clinic until they were glowing like the afternoon sun sitting high in the sky when it was right at its peak.
You didn’t hear the trudge of his boots, and the jingle of his spurs when he first stepped inside your corner of the building. Your focus was settled on the woman before you, one palm resting idly on her swollen belly whilst you went about the regular check of her vitals.
“How are you doing besides all this?” you asked her with a smile, grabbing your notes, and tapping them on the table beside you.
“Everythin s’alright. Just can’t wait for this little stinker to hurry on out.” You and the young woman giggle together at her statement, your hand pressing against the hand sitting on her belly.
“Any day now and they’ll be with us. Just take it easy, and leave the heavy lifting to that husband of yours, hm?” Joining hands, you help her stand while she lets out another laugh. The two of you exchange a few more words before she bids you goodbye.
The office was now silent save for the tap of your pen meeting paper as you wrapped up the rest of your notes, and your hushed murmuring.
But when you turned to face the rest of the office, the dark figure sitting on a chair in the corner of the room hardly registers to you.
First you do a double take, then you squeal. The book that housed your notes clambers to the floor, bouncing once and then lying open on the wood floors.
"How...How long have you-"
"Not long, ma'am."
Ghost he called himself. Fitting since that is how he showed up in town; metastasizing from nothing, joining the daily squabble of the little town you called home as if he had lived there his entire life.
Now here he sat in your office, handkerchief wrapped around the palm of his hand, the tanned fabric fading into a dark shade of red.
You barely paid any mind to his words, your brain solely fixating on the wound that he had lazily wrapped. Your feet moved with a mind of their own, leading you to the sterile needles and thread that sat on the doctor's surgical tray.
Blood was no stranger to you. This was the west. People came and went with wounds of different calibers every week, so a simple gash to the palm of someone's hand was nothing.
You go into autopilot, paying no mind to the curious look Ghost gives you when you pull up a chair in front of him, grabbing his wrist with a delicacy you gave all of your patient's bleeding or not.
The wound itself was still bleeding, however not as much as it clearly had been before. It was a nasty, deep cut that made even you wince at the sight.
"I'm going to clean this up as best as I can. Just be still. It might sting a bit." You peeked up from under your lashes, not expecting him to already be staring at you, his dark gaze forcing your skin to heat up a few degrees.
"Do what ya need to do, doc."
A breathy laugh left you, "Hardly a doctor. I'm just a nurse. The doctor's out doing house calls at the moment."
He hums in response, and observes you silently while you go about tending to the gash. You've done this long enough that it doesn't take much time for you to get the wound cleaned up and sutured, wrapping gauze around the width of his hand.
"Work just s'well as a doctor. Maybe faster."
His words pull you from your haze, a deep rumble that has your grip on his warm hand loosening.
"O-Oh...I've just done this a lot." You bite the inside of your cheek at the sound of your stuttering.
The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable, but it's unwelcome. You can hear the blood flowing in your ears, your brain working overtime to get you to speak up. Your painfully aware of his hand that is still resting in the palm of yours.
"Thanks for the patch up," Ghost stands, and that's when the words finally find you.
"No need to thank me," your movements match his, coming to your full height, "just make sure to keep it cleaned. Try to avoid doing anything that'll open the sutures. If it does open and starts bleeding again cover it with these."
You press some gauze into the unwounded hand, and he gives you a simple nod.
Taking a step back your able to fully see him, his amber colored eyes that were once so easy to see now hidden by the shadow of the hat that rested on top of his head. The rest of his face was obscured by a black bandana, the fabric dirtied from a long day of work.
"Well then," you start, "if you need anything else feel free to come back in. I'm sure the doctor would be more than happy to help you."
He considers your words for a moment, arms crossing over his chest as he looks down at you.
"And what if it's not the doctor I want help from?"
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wosospacegirl · 2 days ago
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I don’t even like boys - Arsenal teen! r
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Summary: Reader has sex with a boy because she is confused about her sexuality but ends up having a pregnancy scare. Leah and Katie comfort her through it.
Word count: 2.5k
Warnings: Talks of teenage pregnancy (but she’s not pregnant!!) a little bit of good luck, baby vibes?
Masterlist here
This was based on a request! Hope you guys enjoy it.
..
The Health check day at Arsenal was awkward. The team was split into groups of three, each assigned to a general practitioner, a physiotherapist, and a gynaecologist. All the girls had to be examined by all three before returning to training, as per house rules, Y/n guessed.
Y/n, Leah, Katie, and Kyra, sat bored in the gynaecologist’s waiting room. Leah tapped her foot in frustration. “This is ridiculous. We could be training at the gym instead of waiting here,” the blonde muttered.
“You say that every season,” Katie said, rolling her eyes. The Irish woman had a small rubber ball, which she kept bouncing back and forth against the wall.
“Yeah, because every season we lose at least two hours here just so we can go inside and answer the same questions Dr. Smith always asks,” Leah grumbled. “I know she is old and all that, but she always asks me if there is a chance I could be pregnant!” The captain continued, looking at the door as if making sure Dr. Smith wouldn’t hear her.
“I’ve told her I’m just into women like twelve times already,” Leah complained.
Leah wasn’t the chattiest person around, but mate —she could talk when she was annoyed at something.
“Don’t give the woman a hard time,” Kyra said, smiling at Leah. “It’s bureaucracy, they must keep records and stuff like that. Plus, you can’t just expect Dr. Smith to remember everybody’s sexuality. Not everyone in the team is gay.”
“The kid’s right for once,” Katie agreed.
“For once?” Kyra asked, noticing the teasing. “Shut up, McCabe.”
“You might have a point, Kyra,” Leah said, turning slightly to Y/n, who hadn’t said a word since the groups arrived at the waiting room. “Why are you so quiet, Y/n?”
“Maybe because I have nothing to say?” Y/n answered sharply, rolling her eyes.
“Someone’s in a mood,” Katie said.
“Shut up,” Y/n mumbled.
“Ouch!” The young girl exclaimed as she felt Leah pinching her arm. “Why would you do that?” Y/n snapped, looking at the captain and then at the sore skin on her arm.
“Don’t be rude,” Leah warned firmly using her captain's voice.
“I’m not being rude; you guys are just annoying to be around!”
“You guys? I haven’t done anything to you?” Kyra defended herself, a pout on her face.
Y/n hadn’t been in a mood when she woke up, but her day took a turn for worse when she received a notification on her phone from her period-tracking app.
Your period is a week late
She hadn’t realized it, being too caught up with training and school to notice how her menstrual cycle was irregular. Y/n wouldn’t have to worry about it if she had stuck to her rule —not having sex with boys — but it just happened.
Y/n wasn’t sure about her sexuality yet, but she knew she liked girls more than boys. Until last month, she had never kept any type of physical intimacy with a boy before, but it all changed when she met this nice boy from her school. He was a year old and just very kind to her.
The girl wouldn’t say she was attractive to him or anything, she actually didn’t want to have sex because she was horny, or any other reason teenagers normally have sex.
She just wanted to see if she would enjoy herself or not. If she was able to like boys or just girls.
Y/n was curious.
One thing led to another and when Y/n realized she and Chris had sex with the during a very cold Saturday afternoon. After they finished, well, he finished, Y/n put on her shirt and underwear, staring at the boy sleeping in her bed.
It felt wrong.
Not because he was rude to her or bad at sex, but because he just… wasn’t a girl.
“Hey, Chris,” Y/n poked the sleeping boy. “Mate, wake up.”
“Hm?” the boy mumbled, slightly opening her eyes. “What? Is it morning already?”
“What? No, of course not, it’s been just15 minutes since we—”
“Had sex?” The boy finished her sentence, a smirk displayed on his face.
“Well—Yeah! That’s why I need you to leave,” Y/n could see the smirk disappearing from the boy’s face, disappointment settling in.
“Leave? Like… back to my house?”
“Exactly.” Y/n left the bed, looking for her pants on the floor. Where were they? She could swear she had put it on her desk chair.
As Y/n looked around, she felt Chris’s eyes on her body. She didn’t like it.
“Did I do something wrong?” Chris finally asked, sitting straight on the bed, back against the headboard. “It was my first time too, but I hope I didn’t hurt you or anything.”
Y/n’s face soften. Maybe she was being a bit rude.
“No, Chris, it was alright, I just—I don’t think I really like…boys.” Y/n confessed, finally finding her pants under her bed.
“Oh.”
“Yeah mate, I’m sorry.”
Chris left the bed and began looking for his clothes, while Y/n stood there awkwardly. She shouldn’t feel awkward in her own house. When Chris was dressed and ready to go, Y/n led him to the front door.
“This could stay between us, right?” Y/n asked softly as she opened the door to the boy, the cold winter breeze meeting her face. She was just now realizing that Chris could very much tell anyone what they did.
Even the Media.
“I—I can’t have people knowing about this… the team and the contract—” Y/n continued.
Chris gave her a sad smile. “Don’t worry, Y/n. Let’s just pretend it never happened.”
After a clumsy goodbye, Chris left, and Y/n was finally alone again. She desperately needed a shower.
And that’s how Y/n realized she was going through a pregnancy scare.
Y/n didn’t feel different, she hadn’t had any weird cravings. She hasn’t gained or lost any weight. Surely, she wasn’t pregnant. She wasn’t on any birth control, but she had made sure Chris was wearing a condom.
They were both a bit clumsy, but they had remembered to check if the condom had a hole or not before Chris threw it away. At least they’d done one thing right.
So yeah, Y/n didn’t know why she was so nervous. She didn’t have any reason to be. She followed the Sex Education’s rules to the letter… but, what if something had gone wrong? Was she even ovulating that day? She couldn’t be sure.
Y/n began biting her nails. Her teammates could sense Y/n’s tension, but they didn’t want to make the younger girl angrier than she already was — although they were all very curious about the reason for her foul mood.
After what felt like centuries, Alessia appeared in the waiting room, having just left the gynaecologist’s office. The blonde exchanged a few words with the other girls before leaving. Now Y/n just had to wait — Dr. Smith would call one of them soon.
Within minutes, the girls heard Dr. Smith’s voice through the door. “Next!” The old lady called.
Y/n probably got up too quickly from her chair, because Leah, Katie and Kyra looked at her like she was crazy. “I’ve never seen you so excited to go see Dr. Smith before,” Kyra said.
“You almost took the chair with you,” Katie added suspiciously.
“I—I just want to be one of the firsts! The last time we had check-up day, I was the last one to go,” Y/n said defensively, taking small steps towards the office.
“You were the last one because you were terrified of going to the gynaecologist,” Leah said, raising an eyebrow. “I literally had to go in with you. “
Did the older girls really need to remember everything all the time?
“I’m just a changed woman now,” Y/n sighed. “You all might see me as some kid, but I’m almost 18 —things change.” The defensiveness in Y/n voice was unmatched, so Leah just let her go without pressing any further
“Something happened to her.”
That was the last thing Y/n could hear before entering Dr. Smith’s office.
..
 After completing the physical part of the exam, Dr. Smith sat across from Y/n at her desk, her notebook open on Y/n’s medical files. Y/n couldn’t pay attention to what the old woman was typing —she was too distracted by the sight in front of her: a replica of a uterus with a baby inside.
“Darling, I’m just going to go through the same questions as always, okay,” Dr. Smith said with a smile.
Y/n answered all the questions honestly. Yes, she had bad period cramps. No, she didn’t have migraines. Yes, it bothered her to play during her period. No, the training didn’t make the cramps go worse.
Everything was fine until Dr. Smith asked:
“During your last check, up you said you weren’t sexually active, right? How about now?”
Y/n blushed, staring at the doctor in front of her. Did she really have to go through this just to play professional football?
“Hm—So about that—yes,” Y/n fumbled over her words. She scratched the back of her head nervously.
Dr. Smith remained silent, waiting for Y/n to continue, but the young girl clamped her mouth shut, looking at the walls instead.
“Yes what, darling?” asked Dr. Smith. “This is a private space; you don’t need to be embarrassed.”
Private space? As if! Y/n thought, Dr. Smith had her whole hormonal history — and now sex life — written up in her file.
“I’ve had had sex since the last time we talked.” Y/n explained, no emotions on her face. She just needed to be direct.
“Would you be okay telling me if it was with a boy or a girl?” The poor woman was really trying to get Y/n to open up— Y/n had to give her that.
“Hm—” Y/n bit her nails. “Two months ago, I was with this girl. She was my first. And then last month, I had sex with this guy, but it was only once,” Y/n explained.
“So, you’ve had two sexual partners, correct?”
“Yes, but the girl was the only one who I slept with more than once.” Y/n was going to die of embarrassment, — she was sure of it.
“Alright darling, had you had any STI test after then?”
“Yes, everything’s fine.”
“Great! That’s great. What about your period? Have you noticed any changes in your cycle after having intercourse?” Dr. Smith questioned.
Y/n stared at the women. She had to tell her.
“Well, about that,” Y/n laughed nervously. “My period is kind of late, but it’s probably nothing, right? We used condoms, and not throwing up or anything, I just have to wait, don’t I?”
For a moment, all they could hear in the office were Y/n trainers tapping the floor.
“How late are you, Y/n?” Dr. Smith asked, a frown on her face.
“A week.”
“Hm,” Dr. Smith mumbled before getting up from her chair and opening a white cabinet. The older woman held a box with a baby printed on it and handed it to Y/n
Y/n started at the pregnancy test, not wanting to take it.
“We’ll have you doing this test, okay? Just go to the bathroom and pee on it. It will take 3 to 5 minutes to get the results.”
Y/n said nothing.
“You need to do it, Y/n, I know you are scared, but we can’t be sure why your period is late if you don’t take.”
Y/n took the pregnancy test, tears in her eyes.
Before Dr. Smith could say anything, Y/n was already bolting through the office door, straight to the bathroom. She heard Leah and Katie behind her. The older women were calling for her, asking what had happened, but Y/n didn’t look back.
When she got to the bathroom, she locked herself in one of the stalls, it wasn’t long before she heard the door open. Before Leah or Katie could say anything, Y/n was already crying.
Leah and Katie looked at each other, both very worried. They didn’t know what could have possibly happened back at the gynaecologist’s office, but they were sure it was bad by the way the young girl reacted.
“Hey babe, what’s wrong?” Leah asked softly. “Did something, why are you crying?”
“I’m an idiot,” Y/n answered, her hands shaking. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
Katie and Leah shared an apprehensive look.
“And why do you say that kid? Leah questioned, trying to get the stall to open. “Come talk to us.”
Y/n was so distressed, she just wanted to get this test done over with.
“I—I had sex with this boy from my school,” Y/n confessed, tears running down her face. “I’m not even sure why, I know I don’t like boys, but I just wanted to be sure.”
“Okay, that okay, that’s completely normal,” Katie said. “It’s that why you are crying?”
Half the Arsenal team were lesbians. They’d been Y/n’s age once and knew how confusing it is to understand one’s sexuality.
“Did the boy do something to you, Y/n?” Leah asked, her voice angry. “If he did, we can find him and go to the police—”
“It’s not that,” Y/n said through tears. “My period is late, and Dr. Smith gave me a pregnancy test, but I’m just scared to take it.”
The bathroom was silent again.
“Did you use protection?” Leah asked, breaking the silence.
“Yes,” Y/n answered through the door.
“Okay, so the odds are in your favor, yeah, kid? Go take the test, and when you’re done, we’ll be right here with you.” Leah said.
“I’m sure it’s going to be negative, babe, don’t worry, take the test, and then we’ll figure stuff out.” The Irish women added.
That’s what Y/n did. She followed the instructions written on the box and just waited. She could see Katie’s and Leah’s shadows through the door opening. Who would have thought that shadows could be comforting?
A minute passed. Then two. And then five.
Just one bright pink line.
Not pregnant.
Y/n yanked the stall door open and threw her arms around Leah and Katie, who weren’t expecting the sudden embrace. The girl felt like she could finally breathe again, her heart slowing doing as her chest relaxed against Leah and Katie’s embrace.
“I’m not fucking pregnant,” Y/n said, hugging the women tight. “I might start crying again.”
“See, we were right, nothing to worry about,” Leah patted Y/n’s back
“I told you, no drama.” Katie said playfully. “Pregnancy tests are overrated anyway.”
After Y/n calmed down, the three women went back to the waiting room. Y/n had to go back inside the gynaecologist office to tell Dr. Smith she wasn’t pregnant after all. After a few minutes, Dr. Smith let Y/n go and told advised her to use birth control or IUD is she wanted to feel more protected against any potential pregnancy.
“Oh Dr. Smith, don’t worry, now I know I don’t even like boys,” Y/n said before leaving the room.
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sailorsoons · 3 days ago
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On the Clock | Teaser (c.hs)
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Pairing: Vernon x f. reader
Summary: Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the bookstore as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 
Word Count: TBD
Genre: Faking dating, Coworkers to Lovers, Romcom
Type: Smut, some fluff and crack
 Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
Warnings: Full fic warnings TBD but general warnings include explicit language, explicit sexual content, a little bit of a miscom trope, a hint of angst, a whole lotta stupid!
Written for the Lonely Hearts Cafe Collab by @camandemstudios
Masterlist | Ask | Join Tag List
COMING FRIDAY, FEB. 14
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“Well,” Vernon (from IT) eventually says. “No harm done once you tell everyone we’re not dating.”
“Once I what?” 
“Well you’ll have to-”
“No way.”
“What?” 
“Do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 
He raises a brow. “More embarrassing than grabbing some dude in the bookstore and claiming he’s your boyfriend.” 
The air leaves your lungs and you melt into the seat, your misery showing. “I already said sorry.” 
“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just tell everyone you broke up with me.” You snort. 
“No one would believe that.” 
“Why?” 
Instead of answering him immediately, you busy yourself unraveling silverware. It’s a hard question to answer, not because you don’t know the answer but because you don’t want to tell him. Vernon (from IT) is quiet, though. Patient. 
He doesn’t press you for an answer, happy to wait you out until you’ve folded your napkin and placed it on your lap, and once again drained the rest of your water. It does nothing for your nerves as you fixate on a spot atop the table. 
“I don’t… date.” 
“You dated Minho.”
“Yeah. That’s uh… it. It’s kind of a running joke that I am undateable.”
He frowns at that. “Respectfully, I find that incredibly hard to believe.” 
“Thanks. I think.” You pick at a string in the tablecloth. “Anyway, no one would buy that I ended the first relationship I’ve had since Minho. I didn’t even end the last one and sort of clung to it in a way that was sort of embarrassing.” 
“I see.”
You’re unsure if he really does. When Minho had broken up with you, you’d attempt to make arguments to keep him around. Offered less work hours, even said you’d go to therapy to talk about your insane need for success. He hadn’t wanted any of it, and you’d eventually realized that he just… didn’t want you. 
They never did, when people realized what dating you entails. Everyone wants a woman who works hard. They like the illusion of it, the woman who gets up early in the morning and goes to workout before going to her corporate job and girl bossing all day long. They desire the woman who dresses fashionably, who wears designer tags and commands a room all day before coming home to make an effortless dinner followed by a luxurious night routine. 
And you get it. You want to be that too. But the truth is most days you wake up past your alarm and rush to the office wearing shoes that don’t match, and sometimes you come home so late and burned out from your job that you eat a handful of shredded cheese over the sink with a stick of beef jerky, only to do it all again the next day.
That wasn’t what anyone wanted. At least, not in your experience. 
“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “You’re right, or whatever. I should just tell them I lied. I’ve given worse news. Just you know - less personal.” 
For a few minutes, Vernon (from IT) is quiet. You don’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead you watch the ice cubes in your glass melt, little beads of condensation zigzagging down the curve of your glass. 
A sigh makes you look up at Vernon (from IT). “What if we dated for like a month or something?” 
“What?”
“I don’t mean really date,” he offers quickly, sensing your surprise. For some reason, that stings a little. You swallow it down past the knot forming in your throat. “It’ll get people off your back or whatever and we can just mutually end things.” 
“Really? You’d do that.” 
He shrugs a shoulder. “I guess, yeah.”
“You can break up with me,” you promise eagerly, leaning forward with the new promise of a solution to your problem. “Everyone will believe it. Just say I work too much and I’m too obsessed with my career.” 
An uneasy gaze flickers in Vernon (from IT)’s eyes. “It can be mutual,” he says firmly. “That way it ends nicely.”
“Fine. Everyone will think one thing anyway, you’ll get out without a scratch, trust me. Are you sure you’re willing to do this? I can… suck it up and tell everyone I made it up.”
“Do you really want to?” 
“No,” you admit.
“Then it’s settled.” He shrugs, heaving a heavy sigh. “I’ll give you a month and then we can mutually end things.” 
Sticking your hand over the table, you offer it for Vernon (from IT) to shake. His mouth twitches a little as he smiles, leaning forward to take your hand. His is warm and softer than you imagined, enveloping yours firmly as he shakes. 
“Deal,” you smile, feeling a glimmer of hope. 
Just like that, Vernon (from IT) becomes Vernon (your boyfriend). 
Sort of.
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jhyoos · 3 days ago
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Off Limits
chapter two : maybe this time
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soccer player vi x talis reader
mentions: player vi, besti ekko, romance, lesbianism, modern au, college au, drama, abby tou, ellie tlou, (they’re coming i promise) cheerleader reader, mention of sex, pierced reader, caitlyn being a bitch
notes: grab some snacks yall
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The next morning, as you stood in front of your mirror getting ready, you ignored Jayce completely. He had tried apologizing more times than you could count—knocking on your door, lingering outside your room, calling your name softly—but you refused to acknowledge him. Even when he sighed in frustration, muttering something under his breath as he walked away, you didn’t budge.
Once dressed, you headed downstairs, the scent of warm butter and sizzling eggs greeting you as you stepped into the kitchen. Your mom stood at the stove, her hair still slightly damp from a shower, humming softly as she flipped pancakes. You hadn’t seen her in a while—she had been away on a business trip in L.A., and part of you had missed her presence.
She turned to you with a warm smile as you sat at the island, watching her cook.
“How was your first day of school, mi corazón?” she asked, carefully plating food.
“It was good, Mom,” you replied, picking at your nails absentmindedly.
She gave you a knowing look. “Did you make any new friends?”
You shrugged. “Mmm, not really,” you admitted. “I did see Ekko, though. And his little girlfriend, Jinx. She’s really sweet and pretty.”
Your mom’s smile widened. “I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there.” She placed a plate in front of you, the smell of eggs and toast making your stomach grumble. “What about that cheer tryout video? Did you get accepted?”
You sighed, stabbing at a piece of scrambled egg with your fork. “Don’t know yet. They haven’t said anything.”
She reached over and squeezed your hand. “You’ll get it. I believe in you.” She pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before stepping back and grabbing a set of keys from the drawer. She placed them on the counter in front of you.
“The car’s parked outside, right in front. It’s new,” she said. “Just don’t forget to wash the dishes before you leave.”
You nodded, still chewing your food.
She gave you one last smile. “Have a good day, sweetheart.” Then, with the jingle of keys and the soft click of the door, she was gone.
Just as you were finishing your breakfast, Jayce came downstairs, already dressed with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He barely spared you a glance as he headed for the door.
“If you’re coming with me, let’s go,” he announced flatly.
You didn’t reply, only reached over and jingled the car keys your mom had left for you. He rolled his eyes before walking out of the apartment without another word.
Once you were done eating, you cleaned up the dishes like your mom had asked, grabbed your bag, and made your way to campus.
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The day had been going surprisingly well. Classes were straightforward, and during your break, you decided to head to the library, taking advantage of the quiet space to get ahead on your studies. You sat at a desk tucked in the corner, your laptop open, completely focused on the screen as you typed out notes.
You barely noticed when someone sat down across from you. Assuming it was just another student there to study, you ignored them. That was until your laptop was abruptly shut, you moved your hands away just in time.
Your gaze snapped up, and there she was—Vi, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, an unreadable expression on her face.
Before you could even react, she spoke first. “Where did you go after the party? I was looking for you.”
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Liar,” you scoffed. “You were too busy exchanging saliva with some other girl.” You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms. “And on top of that, you didn’t even do the one thing you said you would—distract Jayce. He caught me.”
Vi sighed, shaking her head. “That’s why you haven’t been answering my texts?” She tilted her head, smirking. “Did you actually think this was something?” She let out a short chuckle. “I just wanted a good fuck, baby.”
Your jaw clenched. “I know this might sound surprising, but so did I.” You leaned in slightly, lowering your voice. “But it’s kinda a turn off when the girl you show up with is kissing someone else before the night’s even over.”
Vi’s smirk faltered slightly, but you didn’t give her a chance to respond. Instead, you reopened your laptop, the screen blocking her from your view.
“Have a good fucking day, Violet,” you muttered before refocusing on your work.
Vi hesitated for a moment, as if considering saying something else, but then you heard her scoff softly before standing up and walking away.
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After your last class, you made your way home, already hearing the pounding bass of loud music as you approached the door. You sighed, knowing it was most likely Jayce and his friends, which meant the apartment was about to be a chaotic mess.
With your bag slung over your shoulder, you flipped through the mail in your hands, tossing most of it onto the small table by the door like you always did. But one envelope caught your eye—the school’s logo printed neatly in the corner. Your breath hitched as you flipped it over, fingers tightening around the edges.
This was it. The results from your cheer tryout.
Cheer had been your passion since middle school, something you threw yourself into completely—until your senior year, when your dad died. You knew you couldn’t keep up with the demanding schedule, so you let it go. But after moving back home, your mom had encouraged you to give it another shot, and you did. You needed something to keep yourself busy, something to feel like you again.
You walked into the living room, distracted as you worked to tear the envelope open. Your bag slid off your shoulder, landing in its usual spot beneath the coffee table. Just as you finally got the letter free, something small and crunchy smacked you right in the forehead.
“The hell?” you muttered, glancing up.
“You’re blocking the TV, dude,” Jayce said flatly, a controller in his hand.
You rolled your eyes but froze when you noticed who was sitting beside him. Vi.
Your stomach twisted as you quickly took in the rest of his friend group—mostly butches and one twink. You looked back at Jayce before stepping aside, muttering under your breath as you finally unfolded the letter.
“Don’t you guys have better shit to do? Like study or—” Your voice cut off abruptly.
Your eyes scanned over the words again just to make sure you weren’t imagining things.
Congratulations, you have been selected as a member of the Arcane Lions Cheer Team.
Your hands trembled slightly as the realization settled in.
“Jayce, read this,” you said, shoving the letter toward him.
He paused the game, ignoring Vi’s groan of protest, and took the paper from you, standing up. His eyes darted across the page, and soon, a wide grin spread across his face.
“Congrats, sis. You’re a Lion,” he said, clapping you on the back.
You smirked. “I’ve been a Lion, dumbass. But thanks.”
Snatching the paper back, you pulled out your phone. “I’m gonna take a pic and send it to Mom.”
Jayce held onto the letter for just a second longer, teasing you before finally letting it go.
From the couch, Vi leaned back, stretching her arms over her head as she smirked. “Guess that means I’ll be seeing you at all the functions,” she teased. “Thank god cheerleaders don’t cheer for the soccer team.”
You scoffed. “I don’t wanna be around you.”
With that, you turned on your heel and headed straight upstairs, ignoring the way Vi’s smirk faltered just slightly as you disappeared down the hall, over hearing their conversation.
“Damn Vi i never seen you fumble so hard”
“I taught my sister well.”
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Your first day of cheer practice was absolute hell.
The sun beat down mercilessly as you and the rest of the squad ran suicides up and down the football stadium bleachers. Your legs burned, your lungs screamed, and the insane body workouts that followed only made things worse. Every squat, push-up, and burpee felt like a personal attack. But the real kicker? The person barking orders at you all, making sure you pushed past your limits, was her.
The blue-haired girl from the bonfire. The one Vi had kissed.
And, of course, she just had to be the cheer captain.
You clenched your jaw and kept your head down, forcing yourself through every miserable rep. You weren’t about to let Caitlyn see you struggle. She was already making you work twice as hard as the others, calling you out whenever your form faltered, ensuring you knew exactly who was in charge.
By the time practice finally ended, you felt like you had been hit by a truck. You wiped sweat from your brow, chugging water like it was the only thing keeping you alive. Just when you thought you were free to leave, the team was ushered into the locker room to get measured for uniforms.
You were exhausted, body sore, and the last thing you wanted was to stand around half-dressed while someone took your measurements. But you endured it, standing in line as tape measures wrapped around your waist, bust, and hips, trying not to think about how much you hated being scrutinized like this.
Just as you were about to grab your bag and head out, Caitlyn stepped in front of you, blocking your path.
“You’re Jayce Talis’ little sister, right?” she asked, her piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.
You forced a polite, fake smile and nodded. “Yep. That’s me.”
Her gaze flickered over you, eyes dragging from your face down to your torso like she was assessing your worth. “I expect the best out of you since you’re the sibling of a top athlete here.”
Before you could respond, she reached out and grabbed the waistband of your shorts, tugging them slightly to peek inside.
Your body tensed, a flash of discomfort shooting up your spine.
“You’re gonna have to take that belly ring out during games,” Caitlyn remarked, her tone casual, like she wasn’t just invading your space. Then, she tilted her head, smirking. “What else do you have pierced?”
You hesitated for a second, shifting uncomfortably before mumbling, “Um… my nipples.”
Caitlyn hummed. “Figures.” She finally let go of your shorts, stepping back. The movement of the shorts snapping back onto your body hit your belly ring which made you hiss from the sudden pain. “Nothing some boob tape won’t hide, I guess.”
You exhaled, hoping that was the end of it, but then she leaned in slightly, her voice dropping just enough for only you to hear.
“Oh, and I’ve heard about you… from Vi,” she said, her smile saccharine but her eyes sharp. “Stay away from her, or I’ll make your experience here a living hell. Okay?”
She patted your shoulder mockingly before turning on her heel and walking away like she hadn’t just threatened you with a sweet smile on her face.
You stood there for a moment, fists clenched at your sides.
What the fuck had you just gotten yourself into?
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The warm water had washed away the grime of practice, but not the lingering frustration in your chest. Your muscles ached from the brutal workout Caitlyn had put you through, and the last thing you wanted was to deal with any more bullshit.
You stepped out of the shower, grabbing one of the towels provided and wrapping it around yourself. The locker room was mostly empty now, just the faint sound of water dripping from the showerheads and the hum of fluorescent lights overhead. You dried yourself off quickly, rubbing the towel over your arms and legs before slipping on your underwear.
As you reached behind your back, struggling to clasp your bra, the locker room door swung open. The sound of laughter and footsteps echoed off the tiled walls.
You glanced up in the mirror.
Vi.
And, of course, she wasn’t alone. A handful of girls from the soccer team trailed in behind her, still riding the high of their practice. They were loud, chatting and joking amongst themselves, but Vi’s attention was locked onto you.
Her gaze swept over you in an obvious once-over, a slow smirk pulling at her lips.
“Damn, Talis,” she drawled, leaning against a row of lockers, arms crossed over her chest. “You got a nice body.”
You rolled your eyes, biting back the urge to snap at her. Instead, you focused on finally securing the stupid clasp of your bra, your fingers fumbling slightly in irritation.
Vi didn’t seem to care that you were ignoring her. If anything, it just encouraged her.
She tilted her head, eyes lingering a little too long. “Is that a belly ring?” Her smirk widened. “That’s hot.”
You exhaled sharply through your nose, grabbing your sweatpants and stepping into them.
“Vi, I don’t have time for you and your bullshit,” you muttered, pulling them up your legs and tightening the drawstring.
Vi just chuckled, like your attitude amused her. Like you weren’t still pissed off at her from the bonfire.
You refused to let her get under your skin. You refused to let her think she could flirt her way back into your good graces.
Not this time.
Vi stepped closer, her presence looming just as you pulled your cropped black shirt over your head, the fabric hugging your body snugly. The heat of her proximity made your skin prickle, but you kept your focus on adjusting your sleeves, refusing to give her the reaction she wanted.
“What are you doing later tonight?” Vi asked, her voice smooth, almost casual, like she hadn’t just put you through hell the past 24 hours.
“Homework,” you replied flatly, slinging your gym bag over your shoulder.
Vi didn’t take the hint. “How about I see you tonight?” she offered, her tone dropping into something more suggestive. “Your brother isn’t gonna be home, which is perfect.”
You finally turned to her, eyes narrowing in disgust. Did she really think she could just waltz in here and pretend like nothing had happened?
You scoffed. “Why don’t you ask your little girlfriend that was threatening me this morning?” you said, tilting your head. “You know, the blue-haired girl… cheer captain?”
Vi shrugged, that cocky smirk still plastered on her face. Like none of this mattered. Like you were just another game to her.
That was it.
You stepped closer, meeting her gaze with unwavering intensity. “Let’s get one thing straight, Vi, okay?” you said, voice cold. “I’m not your little plaything. I don’t have low standards for someone like you.”
Her smirk twitched, but she stayed silent.
“You kissed another girl while you were with me—God knows what else you did—and you expect me to run into your arms?” You let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Get the fuck over yourself and get your head out of your ass. I don’t want you. So stop bothering me.”
Before she could respond, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the locker room, leaving her standing there, speechless for once.
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After finishing your classes for the day, you made a quick stop at Dutch Bros, treating yourself to an iced coffee before heading home. The caffeine was much needed after the grueling cheer practice and the long lectures.
When you stepped into the apartment, the smell of food immediately hit you. Jayce was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, focused on making himself a sandwich. His broad frame blocked most of the counter, but you could see the neatly stacked ingredients—deli meat, cheese, lettuce—laid out beside him.
“Oooh, make me one, please,” you asked, setting your drink down on the island.
Jayce glanced up at you briefly before nodding. “Yeah, sure.”
A grin tugged at your lips. “Thank you, housewife.”
Jayce rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, just continued assembling your sandwich like the “good” big brother he was.
As you leaned against the counter, sipping your coffee, he spoke up. “Are you gonna come to the soccer game tonight?”
You sighed, already knowing there was no escaping it. “Yeah. I have no choice—Jinx is driving.”
Jayce chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, she’s just like her sister. She doesn’t let up.”
That caught your attention. You furrowed your brows, setting your coffee down. “Who’s her sister?”
“Vi,” Jayce answered plainly, as if it were common knowledge.
Your eyebrow shot up instinctively. You let that piece of information sink in for a moment before scoffing. “Honestly… not even surprised.”
Jayce smirked as he slid the plate with your sandwich across the counter.
Then, after a pause, he hesitated before speaking. “Are you still mad at me about the party?”
“Yes,” you said without hesitation.
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then go ahead and lash out on me.”
You set your sandwich down and stared at him, your jaw tightening. “If you yell at me and degrade me the way you did at the party, I will cut your dick off and shove it so far up your ass you’ll be coughing it up,” you said, voice calm but laced with venom.
Jayce winced but didn’t interrupt.
“You know how I feel about people accusing me of relapsing,” you continued, your grip on the plate tightening. “And I especially hate it when you or Mom do it. A stupid Cayman Jack isn’t gonna make me relapse. I’m not that fucking weak.”
Jayce sighed, his expression shifting to guilt. “Right. I apologize.”
You exhaled slowly, picking your sandwich back up. “You’re forgiven.”
Jayce glanced at his phone, checking the time before grabbing his sandwich. “I gotta go—meeting with the coach before the game,” he said, taking one last bite before leaning down to kiss your cheek.
You hummed in acknowledgment, still focused on your food as he made his way to the door.
Just as he pulled it open, he nearly ran into Jinx, who had her hand raised as if she were about to knock. The two of them froze, staring at each other in mutual awkwardness before Jayce finally stepped aside, allowing her in. Without another word, he closed the door behind her and left.
Jinx turned toward you with a playful grin. “Hello, (Y/N),” she greeted, plopping onto the stool beside you.
You glanced at her, swallowing the last bite you took before returning the smile. “Why are you here so early?”
“I wanted to get food first, but clearly you have that figured out,” Jinx teased, eyeing your sandwich.
Your chewing slowed as you glanced down at your plate, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious about eating in front of her. You placed the sandwich down with exaggerated slowness, making her snicker.
“I’m still hungry, though,” you admitted. “Let me change, and then we can go.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Jinx said with a mock salute, watching as you rolled your eyes and dashed up the stairs.
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The game started, and within minutes, you understood why the entire school had shown up. Your team wasn’t just good—they were insanely talented. Jayce commanded the field with pinpoint passes, Ekko’s footwork and kicks were pure finesse, and Vi? She was everywhere. Aggressive, quick, and completely in control, she weaved through the opposing team like she was made for this. Together, the three of them were an unstoppable force, dominating the game like a well-oiled machine.
You and Jinx cheered every time they scored, and the entire bleacher section erupted with each goal. The energy was electric, and even though you weren’t exactly a sports fan, you couldn’t deny how exciting it was to watch them play.
When the game ended in an easy victory, the stands emptied out, but the buzz didn’t die. Whispers spread quickly—there was a party tonight. Caitlyn Kiramman’s house.
Jinx nudged you with her elbow. “You coming?”
You scoffed. “Absolutely not. But you should go—with Ekko.”
She rolled her eyes, but you didn’t miss the way her lips curled into a barely-there smile.
As the two of you waited near the locker room gate, the team finally emerged, still high off their win. Ekko spotted Jinx immediately and wasted no time slinging an arm around her, pulling her into a hug. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched them.
But before you could comment, a weight settled around your shoulders. You stiffened, turning your head to find Vi standing there, her arm lazily draped around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Your jaw tightened. “Was me telling you off in that locker room not enough?”
Vi gave you an easy grin. “We can’t be friends?”
You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Fine.” You let her arm stay there—until her hand drifted lower, groping your chest.
You scoffed, shoving her off. “What the fuck?!”
Vi held up her hands in mock innocence, her smirk unrepentant. “I had to. They were sitting so perfectly.”
Your glare could’ve set her on fire. “Touch me again, and I’ll kill you.”
Vi only laughed, grabbing your pointing finger and giving it a playful squeeze. “Walk with me. Please.”
You stared at her for a long moment before exhaling sharply. “…Fine.”
She wasted no time grabbing your hand, leading you away from the crowd toward a more secluded spot behind the bleachers.
“I wanna try again,” she said once you were alone.
You narrowed your eyes. “Try what again?”
“Taking you out.”
You snorted. “Be for real.”
“I am serious,” Vi insisted. “We can try again at the pool party tonight.”
You blinked at her. “Caitlyn Kiramman’s house? The cheer captain? You want me dead, don’t you?”
“I talked to Caitlyn,” Vi said smoothly. “Told her we aren’t gonna see each other anymore. She’s cool with it. And…I told her to leave you alone.”
You eyed her skeptically. “And I’m just supposed to believe that?”
Vi shrugged. “Believe what you want. But I handled it.”
You sighed, crossing your arms. “…What about Jayce?”
“He’ll be too busy with Mel,” she said easily. “They’ve got a date tonight. He said he’s ‘gonna get lucky’ or whatever, so he’s definitely not gonna be there.”
You hesitated, mulling it over. “…Alright. But I swear to God, Vi, if you embarrass me, I will never let you live it down.”
“Fine,I promise,” she said with a chuckle. Then, before you could react, she leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek.
You barely had time to process the warmth before she pulled away, grinning. “I’ll pick you up at 8. Have a swimsuit on.”
And with that, she walked off, leaving you standing there—flustered and way more interested in this party than you’d ever planned to be.
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146 notes · View notes
shappoxs · 1 day ago
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You guys just can't acknowledge the actual reasons people dislike TimBer and exaggerate or cherry-pick specific obviously stupid arguments.
I'll start by saying, ship what you want. There's nothing inherently immoral about TimBer. I make jokes, but I'm definitely not "Anti-Timber," but it gets to a point where you guys are just going-
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Most TimBer "haters" are not these caricatures you guys like to paint us as. There are genuine reasons to dislike the ship.
1. It's genuinely bad for both characters. Queer men are allowed to have flaws, too! Yet they've stripped both Tim and Bernard of all of them and brushed any past mistakes under the rug.
Tim and Bernard were not good friends before 2020, and instead of giving them an interesting character arc, the writers just retconned all that and are trying to convince us they were besties.
2. Having Tim and Stephsplit up off-panel is already a disservice to a decades old relationship and Steph as a character. Especially because almost immediately her next appearance is as an accessory to TimBer, to tell the audience, "Actually, you should like them because she would want you to." When that's bullshit!
I'm not saying she should be jealous, but she has every right to be upset at Tim. The fact they did the exact same thing to Ariana, another one of Tim's exes who he hurt, turning her into a one-dimensional TimBer fangirl, feels very misogynistic.
They don't have to be jealous, but don't minimise them, and allow them to have reasonable reactions.
3. The way TimBer was handled feels more biphobic than the average fan reaction. This may be a personal interpretation, but so many moments feels like they're trying to belittle Tim's past relationships with women because he's with a man now. Which pisses me off. TimBer's chemistry comes from us being told about it, but I'm supposed to believe it was more meaningful than what he had with Steph?
I want to see my bisexual characters BE bisexual in ways that aren't stereotypical, but there are ways they could've done that without throwing Steph into a trash bin. As a TimKon shipper, I would be just as pissed if this same scenario played out with Kon instead of Bernard.
Honestly, I don't even want TimKon OR TimSteph if that's how the writers treat these characters. Let them bastardise Tim and Bernard just leave Kon and Steph out of this 😭
4. Most of the "he should cheat" takes are jokes or coming from people who haven't actually read the comics/comic where he actually cheats. Tim only cheated once iirc, but there is still valid criticism to be made about how flawless he's written now that he's with a man.
TimSteph's greatest strength is that we get to see them be a real teenage couple, they both make mistakes but it's watching them grow from them that matters most.
5. I'm fine with platonic TimSteph, but they clearly don't actually value their friendship. I'm also bisexual and grew up a Tim Drake fan, I am the last person who'd want his bisexuality to be erased, but I'd rather them actually do it justice than shrug my shoulders and slurp up any slop they feed us because it's gay.
Finally, I'm sorry if any of this came off as mean. I always try to be respectful even when I'm making jokes or disagreeing with someone, but I'm not perfect. Know that this is a critique of the ship and certain writing choices, not people who just innocently like TimBer.
The mental gymnastics people do to hate timber should be studied under a microscope.
The fuck you mean he is bad bisexual rep because he is dating a man… and how does that makes him gay???? Have you ever talked to a bisexual person???
“Oh it makes less of his past relationships” how?? How?!? Is he not allowed to be infatuated with his current partner? Should he continue pining after his past relationships even tho he is dating someone else???
455 notes · View notes
woozinhos · 22 hours ago
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hii I love ur works smmm!!! can I request mingyu dad au and their child asking for another sibling??
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Notes: oh my god she’s back with another fic enjoy guys I know it’s not the best but I’m slowly easing back into it <3
°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・°❀⋆.
You and Mingyu were sitting together on the couch, enjoying a quiet evening at home when your child walked into the room, looking up at you with an innocent expression on their face.
"Mommy, Daddy?" they asked, his voice soft. Mingyu looked down at them, a smile on his face. "What is it, sweetheart?"
He looked between the two of you before speaking again. "Can I ask you guys a question?" Mingyu chuckled, ruffling the child's hair affectionately. "Of course you can, buddy. What's on your mind?" He hesitated for a moment, looking down at the floor before looking back up at you and Mingyu. "Why don't I have any brothers or sisters?" You and Mingyu exchanged a look, surprised by the question. Mingyu cleared his throat, unsure of how to answer.
"Well, sweetheart," he began, "having a baby is a big responsibility. It takes a lot of time and effort to take care of a baby, and it's not always easy." He nodded, looking up at you with wide eyes. "But I'm a good kid, right? And I would be a good brother, wouldn't I?" Mingyu smiled, touched by his words. "Of course you would, buddy. You're the best kid we could ever ask for. But having a baby is more than just being a good kid. It's about being able to share love and attention with another person." You and Mingyu looked at each other again, a silent conversation passing between you. His request was unexpected, but his words made sense.
"We'll think about it, okay?" you said to him, ruffling their hair like Mingyu had done earlier. "But it's not something we can just decide on a whim. It's a big decision that needs to be thought through carefully." He nodded again, accepting your answer. "Okay," he said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. "Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Daddy."
"Goodnight, sweetheart," you and Mingyu chorused, watching as he left the room. Once he was gone, you turned to Mingyu, a thoughtful expression on your face. "Do you think we should actually consider it?" you asked him. Mingyu sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know," he admitted. "I mean, it's definitely something we need to think about. But we already have so much going on with our work and taking care of our child. Another baby would mean even more responsibility."
You nodded, understanding his concerns. "I know what you mean. But at the same time, I can't help but feel a little guilty.He seems so excited about the idea of having a sibling. Maybe we've been holding off on having more kids for too long." Mingyu looked at you, his expression serious but smirking at the same time. "You're right. We've been so focused on our careers and our own lives that we've kind of neglected the idea of having more kids. Maybe it's time we started thinking about it seriously." You raised an eyebrow at Mingyu's smirk. "What are you thinking?" you asked him, a hint of amusement in your voice.
Mingyu leaned in closer to you, his smirk widening. "I'm thinking that maybe we could have some fun trying to make that decision," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words sent a jolt of excitement through you. "Oh, really?" you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. "And how do you propose we do that?" Mingyu's smirk turned into a mischievous grin as he leaned in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Well, we could start by practicing some...unprotected fun," he whispered, his hand sliding up your thigh.
You let out a soft gasp as his hand continued to move higher, your body already responding to his touch. "Mingyu, we're supposed to be thinking about having another baby, not making one right now," you protested weakly. Mingyu chuckled as he continued to kiss your neck, his lips moving slowly and sensually along your skin. "I know, I know," he murmured between kisses. "But can you blame me for wanting you so badly right now?" You shook your head, giving in to the pleasure that his kisses were causing. "No, I suppose I can't," you admitted, tilting your head to give him better access to your neck.
Mingyu lifted you up into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom with ease. He kicked the door shut behind him and gently placed you on the bed, his eyes dark with desire. As you lay on the bed, Mingyu climbed on top of you, his body pressing against yours. He began to kiss you hungrily, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roamed over your body. You responded to his kisses with equal fervor, your arms wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer. The heat between you was building quickly, and you could feel yourself getting lost in the moment.
Mingyu's hands were impatient as he tore at your clothes, his own shirt quickly joining the pile on the floor. His body was taut and muscular, and you couldn't help but run your hands over his chest and abs. He paused for a moment, his eyes roaming over your exposed skin. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with desire. "I want you so badly." You could feel the heat rising between your legs as his words sent a thrill through you. "I want you too," you murmured, reaching up to pull him down for another kiss.
As he pulled his boxers down, you couldn't help but stare at his impressive size. You felt a wave of anticipation wash over you, your body already eager for what was to come. Mingyu saw the look in your eyes and grinned, knowing exactly what you were thinking. "Someone's eager," he teased, his hands moving down to your hips. "I love it when you look at me like that." You let out a soft moan as he positioned himself, the anticipation almost too much to bear. You could feel his hardness against your entrance, and you couldn't wait for him to enter you.
"Ready?" he asked, his voice a low growl in your ear. You nodded, unable to form words, and he slowly began to push himself inside of you. As he filled you, you gasped and clutched at his back, your nails digging into his skin. The sensation was intense, but it felt so good. You could feel yourself adjusting to his size, your body welcoming him in.
Once he was fully inside of you, he paused for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling. "You feel so good," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "So tight and perfect." You let out a soft moan in response, your hips bucking up against him involuntarily. "Move," you urged him, your voice barely above a whisper. He began to move, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and you found yourself arching your back, pushing against him. As he moved faster, you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your moans grew louder, and you clutched at him desperately, needing to hold onto something as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.
"Shhh, be quiet," he whispered, his voice low and urgent. "We don't want to wake up our boy." He continued to move inside of you, his pace steady but intense. He knew how close you were, and he wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. You bit your lip, trying to stifle your moans as he continued to drive you towards the edge. You could feel the heat building inside of you, and you knew that you were about to explode. Suddenly, you felt yourself tipping over the edge, your body shaking with pleasure as you climaxed. You clutched at him tightly, your fingers digging into his skin as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over you.
"I'm gonna cum," he groaned, his voice strained. "I want you to take it, all of it."
He continued to thrust, his movements becoming more erratic as he approached his own climax. "You're gonna look so beautiful pregnant," he panted. "My baby inside of you..." He suddenly let out a loud moan, his body shuddering as he released himself inside of you. You could feel the warmth spreading through you, and you knew that he was true to his word.
As he finished, he collapsed on top of you, panting heavily. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both tried to catch your breath. "That was amazing," he whispered, his voice filled with satisfaction. You nodded, still unable to speak. Your body was tingling all over, and you felt like you were floating on air. You could feel his seed still inside of you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.
"Our son's got great ideas," he said, his lips brushing against your hair. "We should thank him later."
138 notes · View notes
aspenmissing · 13 hours ago
Note
Can we get some period comfort/care from the Arcane characters? Maybe their s/o is the kinda person that just keeps on keeping on even if they HURT… time for a lil’ hurt/comfort intervention from the gang. Thank you! 😊
ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴꜱ
ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5947 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴꜱ, ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘꜱ
ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ! ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! <3 <3
ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ
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JAYCE
You woke up with a deep, dull ache twisting in your lower abdomen, the familiar sensation of your body betraying you once again. You sighed, already knowing what kind of day this was going to be. The pain radiated through your back, sharp and unrelenting, but you weren’t about to let it stop you.
So, you did what you always did—you ignored it.
You forced yourself out of bed, quietly slipping away from Jayce’s warmth. He was still fast asleep, his arm loosely draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily. For a moment, you considered staying, just for a little longer, but you shook off the thought. If you let yourself give in now, you wouldn’t get anything done.
Moving was hell. Every step sent sharp pulses of pain up your spine, and the nausea that accompanied it made you grit your teeth. You barely managed to get dressed before heading to the kitchen, determined to make some tea before leaving for the Academy.
You had just put the kettle on when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, bare chest.
“You’re up early,” Jayce murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He pressed a slow kiss to the side of your head, his lips lingering. “Didn’t even wake me up. That’s cruel.”
You rolled your eyes, leaning into him slightly. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate being woken up before sunrise.”
Jayce hummed, his grip tightening as he buried his face in your neck. “I always appreciate you.”
Despite the warmth of his embrace, you tensed when another cramp rolled through your body. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, but Jayce didn’t miss the way you stiffened.
His brows furrowed, and he pulled back enough to look at you. “Y/N?” His hands found your hips, steadying you. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lied. “Just a little sore.”
Jayce didn’t buy it. His eyes searched yours, taking in the exhaustion lining your face, the way you were holding yourself, the way you had barely touched your tea. Then, understanding dawned on him.
“Is it—?”
You exhaled sharply. “It’s fine, Jayce.”
He scoffed. “That’s not what your body is saying.” Before you could argue, he turned you around to face him fully. “How bad?”
“Not bad enough to skip work,” you said automatically.
Jayce shot you a look. “That’s not an answer.”
You sighed. “It’s... uncomfortable. But I can handle it.”
Jayce stared at you for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, without warning, he bent down and swept you off your feet, cradling you against his chest.
“Jayce!” you gasped, arms flying around his neck. “Put me down!”
“Nope.” He carried you with ease, moving straight back toward the bedroom. “You are not going to the Academy today.”
You huffed. “I have work to do—”
“It can wait.” Jayce nudged the door open with his foot, walking over to the bed before gently setting you down. He pulled the covers over you, tucking you in before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You always do this. You push through it, act like it’s nothing, and then you crash. Not today.”
You crossed your arms. “I’m fine.”
Jayce raised an eyebrow. “Would a heating pad and some tea make you more fine?”
You hesitated.
He smirked, already standing up. “That’s what I thought.”
You watched as he left the room, hearing him rummage through the cabinets and drawers. A few minutes later, he returned with a heating pad and a fresh cup of tea. He placed the heating pad gently against your abdomen before handing you the tea, then slid into bed beside you.
You raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to the Academy?”
He shrugged, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest. “I think my girlfriend needs me more than work does.”
You exhaled slowly, relaxing against him despite yourself. His body was warm, his presence grounding. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this until now.
Jayce pressed a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “Just rest, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
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VIKTOR
The familiar ache curled deep in Y/N’s abdomen, sharp and relentless. It radiated through her lower back and thighs, an unyielding force she had long since learned to endure. She clenched her jaw as she adjusted the lens on her microscope, determined to ignore it. Work at the Academy didn’t stop just because her body decided to wage war against her.
She exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the samples before her, but the pain flared again, making her fingers tighten around the microscope’s knobs. Her stomach churned, and a thin layer of sweat clung to the back of her neck. But she refused to stop. She couldn’t stop.
"Miláčku." (Darling)
Viktor’s voice broke through her concentration, the familiar, gentle lilt carrying an unmistakable thread of concern.
She glanced up briefly, offering him a tight-lipped smile that she hoped would be reassuring, but she knew he wasn’t fooled. He was never fooled.
Viktor sighed, his golden eyes flicking over her with quiet scrutiny. He had been watching her all morning—how she tensed when she thought no one was looking, how her hands trembled ever so slightly when she reached for her pen, how she bit the inside of her cheek as another wave of pain hit. She was stubborn, as always. Too stubborn.
Slowly, he stood, his cane tapping softly against the floor as he crossed the lab toward her. She heard the familiar rhythm—step, tap, step, tap—until he was close enough to rest a hand on the edge of her workstation. He leaned against it with an easy familiarity, but his gaze was sharp, searching.
"You are in pain," he stated simply.
"I'm fine," Y/N dismissed, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her.
Viktor hummed, unconvinced. "I have seen you work through headaches, exhaustion, and even a minor injury, but this?" He gestured vaguely toward her. "This is different. You are clearly miserable."
She exhaled sharply through her nose, gripping the edge of the table as another cramp twisted through her, worse than the last. It felt like her body was wringing itself out from the inside, and for a moment, the world blurred at the edges.
Viktor frowned. His grip tightened on his cane, frustration flickering across his face—not at her, but at the fact that she was pushing herself through something she shouldn’t have to endure alone.
"Come," he said softly, reaching for her free hand. His fingers curled around hers, warm and steady. "You need to rest."
"I need to finish this first—"
"No, you do not," Viktor cut her off, voice gentle but firm. "The research will be here tomorrow. You, however, will feel worse if you continue like this."
She hesitated. She hated stopping. Hated feeling weak. Hated the idea of something as trivial as her own body dictating what she could and couldn’t do. But when Viktor squeezed her hand and gave her that look—the one filled with unwavering devotion, the one that made her feel seen and cared for—she finally caved.
"Fine," she mumbled, allowing him to help her up.
"Good," Viktor murmured, a small, satisfied smile playing at his lips.
He guided her toward the worn leather couch in the corner of the lab, moving carefully to accommodate his own limp. He walked with measured steps, his cane tapping softly against the stone floor, never letting go of her hand.
When she sat down, Viktor disappeared for a moment before returning with a warm cup of tea, the steam curling in the cool air. He pressed it into her hands, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, as if to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay.
Y/N sighed, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. The scent of chamomile and honey wafted up, soothing in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.
Viktor settled beside her, careful and deliberate in his movements, resting his cane against the armrest before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t resist when he pulled her against his side, the slow rise and fall of his breath steadying her own.
"You are too stubborn for your own good," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
She huffed, but there was no real fight left in her. Instead, she let herself melt into him, feeling the steady warmth of his body against hers.
"You love me anyway," she muttered, her voice muffled against the fabric of his vest.
"That, I do," Viktor chuckled, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her arm. "But I would love you even more if you took care of yourself."
She let out a small hum, closing her eyes. Maybe just for a moment. Maybe just until the pain dulled.
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JAYVIK
It was one of those days where everything felt harder than usual. Y/N had been pushing through the pain for hours, the familiar dull ache turning into sharp, persistent cramps that made her want to curl up and hide from the world. But that wasn’t her style. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept wandering back to the discomfort. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, though.
Viktor and Jayce had been noticing for a while now. Viktor, ever the observant one, had been keeping a quiet eye on her, watching her fight through each wave of pain. Jayce, with his usual energy and protective nature, had started to notice her movements becoming more sluggish, her posture stiffening, her face pinched with discomfort. Neither of them said anything at first, but as time passed, they both knew something needed to be done.
The tipping point came when Y/N tried to stand after a long meeting at the Academy. She had been sitting through lectures, her mind clouded with the increasing discomfort in her abdomen. She had hoped the pain would subside, but it only seemed to grow worse. The moment she stood, the sharp cramp hit her hard, and for a moment, her vision blurred. She swayed slightly on her feet, barely managing to steady herself before Viktor’s steady hand was at her elbow, guiding her back down into her seat.
“Y/N,” Viktor said gently, his voice laced with concern. “You need to rest.”
“I’m fine,” Y/N tried to dismiss, but the words came out a little weaker than she intended. She wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. Her head spun, her body trembling from the intense pain.
“No, you’re not,” Jayce said, his tone firm but caring. He stepped closer, his gaze softening as he observed her. His big hands hovered over her stomach, a silent understanding passing between them. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard again.”
Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to insist that she could push through just like she always did, but before she could speak, Jayce was already kneeling beside her. His warm hands gently pressed against her lower abdomen, rubbing slow, soothing circles over the cramping muscles. The warmth of his touch instantly calmed her, if only just for a moment. She felt herself soften into him, the deep ache lessening with each movement of his hands.
“You don’t have to keep going like this,” Jayce murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “Let us help.”
Viktor, never one to be left out of such tender moments, moved to the other side of her. His cane tapped the floor gently as he settled beside her. With a soft sigh, he rested a hand on her shoulder, his fingers light yet firm against her skin. “You’re important to us, lásko,” he said, his voice quiet but steady, filled with the kind of care that only Viktor could express so effortlessly. “And we want you to take care of yourself—not just for us, but for you as well.” (Love)
Y/N felt the tension in her chest loosen at his words. She wanted to fight it, to push through the pain and pretend like she could handle it alone, but as their voices wrapped around her like a gentle cocoon, she allowed herself to relax. For the first time in a long time, she let herself stop. The weight of the day, the pain, the constant push to do more and be more—it all seemed so much lighter with them there. She closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over her, finally allowing herself to just… be.
Jayce’s hands never stopped their gentle motion on her stomach, each caress sending a wave of relief through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken such tender care of her like this. Viktor leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his lips warm and comforting against her skin. Their closeness, their presence, wrapped around her like a blanket, making her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.
“You don’t have to do everything alone,” Viktor murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. His fingers moved through her hair, gently tucking a strand behind her ear. “Let us help you. Let us take care of you”
Y/N smiled weakly, resting her head against Viktor’s chest. The familiar sound of his heartbeat was a soothing lullaby against her ear. She felt the tension in her body slip away as she leaned into them both. “I’m lucky to have you both,” she whispered, her voice thick with gratitude. She had never felt so cared for, so truly seen.
Jayce kissed the top of her head, his hands still working their soothing magic on her stomach. His voice was warm and filled with affection when he spoke again. “We’re lucky to have you, too.” His words wrapped around her like a promise, a vow of unwavering support.
And there, in the quiet comfort of their embrace, Y/N felt the world outside fade into nothingness. The pain was still there, but it no longer felt like an insurmountable force. With Viktor and Jayce by her side, she knew she didn’t have to face anything alone.
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VANDER
It was another cold, gloomy morning in Zaun, the kind that seemed to press down on everything. The dim, gray light filtered through the cracks of the old wooden walls, barely enough to see by. The sounds of the city’s lifeblood—clanking metal, creaking pipes, and distant machinery—echoed throughout their small, humble home. Y/N lay curled in bed, her body tangled in blankets, but she barely felt their warmth. The sharp, familiar ache in her abdomen throbbed with a fierce intensity, a relentless reminder of her body’s monthly battle. It pulsed through her like an undercurrent, making it hard to breathe without feeling it shift and twist inside her.
She had been awake for hours, trapped in the haze of pain, but she stubbornly refused to admit how bad it had become. There were things to do today—people to help, problems to solve, and a million things that still demanded her attention. She wasn’t going to let a little pain hold her back. She never did.
With a soft groan, she attempted to sit up. But the moment she moved, the dizziness hit her. Her vision blurred, the edges of everything softening as the pain intensified. She winced, clutching her stomach as if that would somehow make it stop. Her body felt heavy, like it was made of stone, and the simple act of sitting upright felt like a monumental task.
“I can’t…” she whispered to herself, but before she could even get her bearings, she tried to stand. Her legs, weak from exhaustion and the painful cramps, buckled beneath her, sending her crashing back down onto the mattress.
The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway interrupted her self-inflicted struggle. The door creaked open, and there stood Vander, his tall frame filling the doorway. His face, roughened by years of struggle, softened as his eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on her.
"Y/N?" His voice, gravelly and low, was filled with concern. “What are you doing?”
Her stubborn streak kicked in, and she quickly wiped away the pained expression on her face, trying to act as if everything were normal. “I’m fine,” she muttered, forcing herself to sit up once more, even though her body screamed in protest. “I’ve got things to do.”
Vander’s gaze never left her, and he crossed the room in two long strides. He was close enough now that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, a welcome contrast to the chill of the room. He didn’t even ask; his massive hand gently settled on her shoulder, grounding her in place.
“You don’t look fine,” he said, his voice low but firm. His eyes searched hers, refusing to let her hide from him.
Y/N opened her mouth to argue, to insist she was okay, but before she could, Vander was already scooping her into his arms, his strong hands lifting her effortlessly. Her breath caught as he cradled her against his chest, and for a moment, all she could do was close her eyes and allow herself to be held.
“You’re not going anywhere like this,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble beneath her ear. She couldn’t fight him—not when the weight of her stubbornness started to lift with the warmth of his embrace.
She huffed, irritated at how easily he could overpower her when she was in this state, but the pain in her body made it impossible to argue. With a soft sigh, she let herself relax against him, her body trembling—not from fear, but from the overwhelming relief of simply being held.
Vander’s giant hand moved, resting gently on her stomach. He began rubbing slow, deliberate circles, the warmth of his touch seeping through her clothes and into her very skin. She let out a breath, the pain dulling slightly under his careful touch. His presence, his strength, was a balm to her aching body, and the rhythmic motion of his hand calmed her in a way nothing else could.
“Vander…” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. She didn’t want to admit how badly she needed this, how much the pain had worn her down. “I’m not…”
“Shh,” he interrupted softly, his hand continuing its motion. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. I know you’re strong, but sometimes… sometimes, you need to let someone take care of you.”
Her heart squeezed at his words. He wasn’t just concerned about the pain—he was worried about her. The ache in her stomach wasn’t going away, but the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his touch, began to soothe the sharpest edges of it. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself lean into him, allowing herself to be taken care of in a way she hadn’t allowed anyone to do for a long time.
“I’m used to doing everything myself,” she whispered, the quiet vulnerability in her voice a rare thing. She had always been the one to keep going, no matter what. But this… this was different. “I don’t want to be a burden.”
Vander’s response was soft, but it carried the weight of years of love and understanding. “You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. I want to take care of you. Let me do this for once.”
She could feel the sincerity in his words, and something in her heart softened. There was no room for pride, no room for stubbornness in this moment. Just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet of their little home, as the world of Zaun continued to hum and groan outside.
His hand continued its soothing motion, and for the first time that morning, Y/N felt herself relax. The tightness in her chest loosened, and the pain in her stomach, while still present, seemed more manageable under his careful care. She breathed in deeply, and the ache in her body became a distant hum instead of an overwhelming force.
“You’re not alone, Y/N,” Vander said softly, his lips brushing against her forehead as he held her closer. “I’ve got you. Always.”
The tenderness in his voice, the security of his embrace, allowed her to finally surrender to the exhaustion. She let herself drift, her body finally giving in to the comfort he provided, the pain fading into something bearable.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to close her eyes, trusting Vander completely. She wasn’t alone. And for now, that was enough.
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SILCO
The dimly lit office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of papers as Y/N sorted through the endless stacks on Silco's desk. The hum of the dim lights above was the only other sound, though it hardly did anything to distract from the gnawing pain in her abdomen. She had been at this for hours, working on paperwork for Silco, as usual. Every once in a while, she would shift in her seat, trying to ease the pain that only seemed to worsen as time went on. But she couldn’t stop—not when there was still work to do. Not when Silco depended on her.
The throbbing in her lower belly was becoming unbearable, the cramps tightening like a vice, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt truly comfortable. But she had learned long ago to push through, to endure. She had always been this way—stubborn, determined. She wasn’t going to let something like pain get in the way of her responsibilities.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the next set of documents, but she quickly steadied it, forcing herself to focus. She tried not to make a noise, to keep her breathing even, but the pain was starting to show on her face. She caught a glimpse of Silco out of the corner of her eye, watching her intently from his seat. His eyes were sharp, calculating, but for a brief moment, they softened, the tiniest flicker of concern passing through his gaze. He didn’t say anything yet, but she could feel his eyes on her as she continued to sort through the papers.
It wasn’t long before Silco stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. His presence was commanding, unwavering, and he moved toward her with purpose. Y/N could feel his gaze on her, and she quickly straightened up, trying to hide her discomfort. But it was no use.
"Y/N," he said, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it, something that made her heart skip a beat. It was more than just a question—it was an order.
She looked up at him, a weak smile on her lips, though it barely reached her eyes. "I’m fine, just a little…" Her voice trailed off, but Silco didn’t need any more explanation.
"No," he said, his tone brokering no argument. "You’re not fine." He was already crossing the room toward her, his eyes locked on hers with a gaze that left no room for defiance. "Give me your hand."
Before she could protest, his fingers were wrapped around her wrist, strong and steady, pulling her from the chair with little effort. His grip was firm, unyielding, and Y/N found herself rising to her feet, her body moving almost involuntarily. She opened her mouth to argue, but Silco silenced her with a look, his expression dark and unreadable.
"But I still need to finish these," Y/N tried to explain, though she was already feeling light-headed from the pain.
"Enough," he commanded, his voice cold but not unkind. "Rest."
Y/N’s heart skipped in her chest at his tone, but she didn’t have the strength to resist. Silco gently but firmly guided her to the couch in his office, his hand never leaving her wrist. She collapsed onto the plush cushions with a sigh, feeling the weight of the pain in her stomach and the exhaustion she had been ignoring for so long. The relief of lying down was immediate, though the cramping still made it hard to relax.
Silco stood over her for a moment, his gaze unwavering as he assessed the situation. His sharp eyes softened just slightly, but there was still that edge to his expression, something that made it clear he wasn’t going to allow her to suffer.
"Stay here," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don’t move."
Y/N managed a weak smile, trying to brush it off. "I’ll be fine. Really."
But Silco was already turning to leave the room, his mind clearly elsewhere as he walked toward the door. Y/N watched him go, a strange pang of guilt gnawing at her. She wasn’t used to being taken care of in such a way, and a part of her resisted it, even though another part of her desperately needed it.
=
A few minutes later, Silco returned. In his hand, he carried a warm cloth, and there was something about the way he moved—almost protective—that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes softened, just slightly, as he knelt beside her. Without a word, he carefully placed the heated cloth over her stomach, the warmth seeping into her skin and easing some of the tension there. Y/N closed her eyes at the sensation, her breath slowing as the pain began to dull, the heat from the cloth soothing her aching muscles.
Silco watched her for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable before speaking again, his voice softer than before but still with an undercurrent of command. "Rest," he repeated, tucking a thick blanket around her shoulders. His movements were gentle, but there was a firmness to them, as though he was making sure she understood that he wasn’t going to let her go through this alone.
Y/N opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and for a brief moment, she saw something different in him—something she hadn’t noticed before. There was care, yes, but also a certain protectiveness, a tenderness that he rarely showed.
"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean to worry you."
Silco’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, and he exhaled slowly, the sharp edge to his presence softening just enough to show that he was concerned, that he cared. "You don’t need to apologize for this," he said quietly. "Not for this, Y/N." His eyes darkened slightly, a glint of something more protective in them. "I don’t want you pushing yourself when you’re clearly in pain."
Y/N hesitated, letting his words settle in her mind. She wasn’t used to being cared for like this. She had always been the one to take care of others, to push through, to keep going no matter the cost. But here she was, vulnerable, and for once, she let herself lean into the care he was offering.
For the first time that night, she didn’t argue, didn’t insist that she was fine. She just closed her eyes, sinking into the comfort of the warmth surrounding her, the blanket tucking her in like a safe cocoon.
Silco moved toward his desk, but his gaze never left her. He watched her for a moment, ensuring she was still resting, before returning to his work. Yet, even in his focus, his eyes would drift back to her, checking on her every so often, as if he couldn’t quite bear the thought of her being uncomfortable or in pain.
"You’re mine to care for, Y/N," he said after a while, his voice low, almost a whisper, but it carried weight, like a promise. "Don’t forget that."
His words sank deep into her chest, a warmth blooming there as she allowed herself to believe it. She wasn’t used to this—this attention, this care. But somehow, it felt right, felt like something she had been needing without realizing it.
And for once, she let herself believe that she was worthy of it.
The pain didn’t vanish entirely, but the comfort of his presence, his care, made it bearable. And in that moment, she knew that Silco wasn’t just her lover. He was her protector too.
As the minutes passed, Y/N allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful, restful sleep, safe in the knowledge that Silco was watching over her—ensuring she was cared for, no matter what.
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CLAGGOR (AU)
It was another long day in their shared workshop, the kind where the hours blurred into one another as they worked tirelessly. Surrounded by mechanical parts, intricate blueprints, and the glowing soft light of the workbench lamps, Claggor and Y/N had been dedicated to their latest project. The hybrid flower—an innovative creation Y/N had been perfecting—was finally starting to show promise. It was meant to have a healing property unlike anything they had seen before, one that could possibly help in the toughest of battles.
Claggor, ever meticulous, was hunched over his work, adjusting the tiny petals they had successfully crossbred to be more resilient. His brow furrowed in concentration as he made careful tweaks to the delicate work of nature and science intertwined. Meanwhile, Y/N sat beside him, her hands moving more slowly than usual, though she tried to keep pace.
The pain had started earlier that morning, sharp cramps that gnawed at her body in waves, but Y/N had pushed it aside, determined to finish their task. She wasn’t the type to admit when she was struggling—not when there was so much left to do, not when they were so close.
Yet Claggor, as always, knew her too well. His eyes darted up from the flower hybrid when he noticed her wince slightly, a quiet flicker of discomfort crossing her face. Then, her hand subtly pressed against her stomach, as though she could will the pain away. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her like this, but this time, there was something in the way she held herself—a tightness, a reluctance to show weakness—that tugged at his heart.
“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and concerned. He didn’t lift his gaze from the project, but his tone told her he wasn’t buying her act. “You good?”
Y/N gave him a strained smile, pushing herself a little straighter, her voice pretending lightness. “Yeah, just… focused. A little tired, that’s all.”
Claggor was quiet for a beat, his fingers tapping restlessly against the workbench. He could tell it was more than tiredness. He knew that look too well, the one she wore when she was trying to keep it all together even though the weight of her body was starting to betray her. With a quiet sigh, he set the hybrid down, gently lowering the delicate petals back into their protective case, before standing up and walking toward her.
“I know that look,” he murmured, his tone a mixture of concern and something softer. He reached for her hand, his touch gentle but insistent, guiding her to sit down on a nearby chair. “Y/N… You’re not fooling me. You’re hurting.”
Her hand trembled slightly as she tried to pull back. “Claggor, I’m fine,” she insisted, though the slight hitch in her voice betrayed her. “We’re almost there. Just need a few more adjustments.”
“No,” Claggor said firmly, his voice holding a quiet strength that made it impossible to argue. “You’re not fine.” He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a soft but tender motion. “You’re in pain. I can see it.”
She shook her head, still not wanting to admit it, still trying to push through. “I don’t want to slow you down, Claggor. You’ve been working so hard on this, and we’re so close to finishing.”
Claggor sighed, a mix of frustration and something deeper—care and love for her. He could tell she was putting on a brave face, trying to act like everything was fine, but he had seen this too many times. She was always the one who fought through the pain, always the one who kept going, even when her body screamed for rest.
He wasn’t going to let her push herself too far today.
With a quiet determination, he moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders as he gently urged her to sit back down. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s not about the project right now. It’s about you. You’re not going to get anything done if you’re not feeling well.”
She hesitated, her eyes flicking to their half-finished work, but the pain was getting harder to ignore. Her body swayed as she stood, trying to push through, but it was too much. The sharpness of her cramps made her stagger, and Claggor was quick to step forward, his strong arms catching her before she could fall.
“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with quiet reassurance. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”
He carefully led her to the couch, easing her down into the cushions. His eyes were filled with nothing but concern, and it made her heart ache. Claggor always knew when to take charge, when to step in, and when she needed to give herself a break.
“I don’t like resting,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she tried to fight the fatigue creeping over her. “I feel like I’m letting everything slip away if I stop.”
Claggor knelt beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. His touch was warm, soothing, and gentle, as though he were handling something precious. “You’re not letting anything slip, love. You’re just taking care of yourself so you can be strong later. You deserve to rest. Please, don’t push yourself any longer.”
She looked up at him, her eyes softening as the vulnerability he always saw in her began to emerge. She nodded reluctantly, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“No apologies, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm but full of affection. “You don’t need to apologize for taking care of yourself.”
Without another word, Claggor moved behind her, his arms coming around her to hold her close. He shifted until they were both lying down together on the couch, his body curling protectively around hers. He placed a warm hand gently on her stomach, his touch grounding, steadying.
“I’m here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Let me hold you.”
Y/N melted against him, the pain in her body slowly fading as his presence and warmth enveloped her. She could feel his steady heartbeat against her back, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. The pressure on her stomach from his hand was soothing, almost therapeutic.
She let out a soft sigh, feeling the tension leave her body as she relaxed into his embrace. It was the first time all day that she allowed herself to fully give in—to the pain, to the exhaustion, and to the comfort Claggor offered.
His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer, his hand never leaving her stomach, a steady reassurance that he was there. "You’re not alone in this, Y/N," he murmured. "I’ve got you. I’ll always be here for you."
And in that moment, as she lay with Claggor wrapped around her, she knew that for once, it was okay to rest. She didn’t have to keep pushing forward. Not with him by her side.
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glassrowboat · 2 days ago
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In Your Capable Hands. Mydei.
Summary: Chartonus himself claims Mydei's weapon holds divinity, majesty, and compassion all in the temper of a single spear head, a fitting weapon for a man like him. Regal, seemingly unforgiving, but kind all the same. It's why you never hesitate to take the blade from him even when it's still covered in blood to wash it all away despite the thoughts that still linger in your mind about the man from Castrum Kremnos.
I should not be trusted with my knowledge of blacksmithing// Suggestive //not proofread, but it's 1am for me
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The towel in your hands had received one cut already, splitting it in half on the edge of a dull blade. It was desperate to stay together, even if it meant a few scraggly bits of red string dyed in the ichor of life were the only thing keeping it whole; as one.
Beneath the cloth was a spear, one that had also been broken. Time and time again, you had fixed it at the behest of your master Chartonus, only to have to once again piece it back together the next time Mydei had come to the smithy with guilt on his face and an apology for being too rough with your work. Yet he would always do it again.
At first you had told him off, or tried to, as you told him he needed to prioritize his weapon just as much as a man would his life, but....well, it made sense that argument hadn't exaclty resonated with him.
So once again, you sat at your workbench with Mydei waiting paitently at the counter. His arms were crossed as he watched the people pass by. Two little boys had stopped to say hello. To call him their big brother and share how excited they are for their next training session before running along as children do. Another had been one of his own men. They only exchanged a brief nod before they both went along their day. And lastly, there was you: occasionally given a word or two as you worked.
It helped pass the time, so you welcomed it well enough, answering any questions he had about how busy you had been today or your thoughts on the weather. Small talk, really, but it helped keep your mind busy enough and wouldn't distract you from what you were trying to get done.
Finally, you tossed the rag aside. It landed with a wet thwap in the metal bin.
"It's not broken. It just needs some sharpening." You said as you lifted the spearhead up to catch a stray beam of light.
Those with an untrained eye wouldn't even notice the cracks in the blessed metal, but those that could would always see it clear as day. It almost reminded you of kintsugi, but this was your masters work and not someone with an eye for gold who needed to pieceback together a broken bowl.
"That's fine." You heard behind you, Mydei's gruff voice filling your ears now that there wasn't a hammer going to town on an unfinished sword.
"Right, just give me a moment, then."
His head turned back to look at you, golden eye watching as you pried the nails keeping it mounted to the polished shaft and dropped them back down into a tin you kept close by for the smaller objects. It was full of tiny knicknacks just as much as it was full of soot and dust.
"What do I owe you for this?"
"The same as usual."
Meaning: Aglaea would cover it.
He hummed at that, wordlessly telling you he heard what you said.
"You know, with the amount of times I've done this for you, I'd think you would have figured it out on your own." Your hand dropped into the bucket of water at your side to pull out the whetstone. It had been soaking for long enough now, to the point you hadn't spotted a single bubble rising to the top of the water to pop open once it was exposed to the open air.
You wiped your hand off on your pants as Mydei spoke.
"I find it's best to leave this to someone who knows exactly what they're doing."
"If you say so. Or maybe you just can't get the hang of it."
The blade met the rock before you with a soft tap as you adjusted the angle, doing your best to get the proper forty-five degree angle you wanted before starting. The moment you did, you ran the blade up and down the block. You had once compared the grating to nails on a chalkboard, and in a way, you did still feel that same soft withdrawal tugging at you, but it came with a tinge of comfort now instead of a need to make it stop.
Your hands did the rest. Years of practice paying off as muscle memory took over, leaving your mouth free to prattle.
"Well, I can always walk you through it." You offered.
"There's no need."
"It'll be good to know."
His boots thudded behind you, creating a soft click every time the heel met the bricks below you both as Mydei slowly approached to stand behind you. You could feel him towering over you from where you sat. Even when you were standing, he always had to look down at you, leaving you feeling small in comparison, but the way his shadow loomed over you now as it blocked out the light coming from Kephale only made you all the more aware of that fact. "I already know how. I just want to leave the proper care to someone who knows how to treat it delicately."
The grating stopped for just a moment as your hands stilled. "Yeah? So you know that you have to start at the base before working your way up to the tip?"
"I know you skipped honing the blade."
"...Wasn't needed."
Your attention narrowed back on the blade, its distinct smell of rusted blood drowned out by...him. It was obvious he hadn't stopped by the baths to wash off before visiting you, clearly finding his weapon for more importance, leaving Mydei covered in sweat that had yet to be washed away. You had picked it up before when you had taken the spear from him after he had dropped it on the work table, but now it was suffocating you.
Gone was the ash you knew was filling your nostrils and staining the black from keeping the fire beside you both alight and roaring.
"And I would have done it, possibly ruining the blade in the process and having to bring it back here regardless. I'm just being efficient."
The thought to shoot back with the fact a metal blessed by the Titan's themselves wasn't that delicate lingered in your mind, but that thought was quickly quenched by the feeling of metal claws on your shoulder. You could feel the pinpricks of them poking at your skin, just barely digging in. It was cold in comparison to the heat you had been surrounded by all day, making it a welcome change even when you were still on high alert about just who was behind you.
And for some reason, you almost wished his soft hold on you would tighten just enough. You could feel those claws breaking your skin.
"Right. Well....good call then."
You couldn't help but cringe at how you stammered over your words, but it seemed to be enough to satisfy whatever Mydei had wanted from you as he backed away and returned to the spot he had been collecting dust in before.
"What was that?" You whispered to yourself.
Shaking that entire encounter off the best you could, your attention went back to the blade in your hand, now noticeably held at a fifty degree angle.
Wrong.
It was wrong.
Your head shook side to side.
"You know, it might be best to go out and shop for a bit, Lord Mydei. This will take some time, and I want to see about hammering out the dents in your pauldron. Maybe shining it too if you take too long to get back."
You didn't risk looking back at him, not when you were unsure why desire had come over you so quickly.
Not even when you knew he was wordlessly taking off the armor on his shoulder. Each little chime of a buckle being undone made you move your hands a little faster and press the blade just a bit too hard into the whetstone.
You'd have to properly attend to it later. Check it. See if it needs replaced-
You flinched as the bronze metal filled your eyes, the familiar shape of it delicately placed down by your side.
"Calm down. Haven't I told you before that I'm not a mindless brute?"
Swallowing, you got out a yes.
"Then"- His head ducked down, meeting you at the same height to give Mydei a chance to glance at you properly. Your thighs clenched at having him so close, the heat from before having barely even dwindling and now reigniting as if you had used a bellow to cause a stir. Like this, you couldn't meet his eye. Not when you weren't sure if it would mean you would be tempted to break the space between you.
Ultimately, he pulled away. "Forget it."
A moment of silence passed.
"You should leave me your gauntlets as well."
"Fine."
They soon joined the growing pile on your table, rattling it and causing it to tilt to the side now that there was more weight where the one uneven leg was. You had been meaning to fix it, but like many things in your day to day life, it had gone unattended to.
"I'll get to that right away."
"Then we're done here?"
"Yes, Lord Mydei."
He pushed himself away from you, boots thudding against the stone once again as he headed back to the busy street full of colorful fabrics and stalls just waiting to be perused at his leisure. A single merchant had even waved to him, hoping to draw Mydei in with promises of a sale. Their hand hung in the air, yet his eyes turned back to you.
Only to see you staring right back at him. You could only hope the heat you felt in your cheeks wasn't noticeable, or at least could be passed off as a side effect of the sunny day. "Ah, goodbye then."
His hands, covered in callouses and scars painting his fingers to his palm, slid into the pockets of his trousers, hiding away just how big they were. "What time should I come to pick everything back up?"
"Well, given I'm handling your gauntlets, too, I'd say tomorrow morning."
"I'll leave it in your capable hands." With that, he walked away.
You watched for a moment, lips pinched together before dropping your head down to the table before you to groan.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
That's what you were.
You wanted to scream and shout, maybe even go and kick that one beam in the smithy you always abused when you were agitated with your latest project. Anything would do as long as it took the edge off of where your mind was drifting as you looked back at the gauntlet before you, the five clawed fingers curled just so.
Stupid. It's stupid.
And worst off, in your own fit of self-denial, you had missed the way Mydei has adjusted himself in his pants in a desperate attempt to hide himself away.
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yapperblog · 2 days ago
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Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader
Part 1
Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.
Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18
You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.
After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.
Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?
Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.
"Hi you." he says, still smiling.
"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.
"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.
You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.
"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.
"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.
You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."
You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.
"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.
"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.
"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.
You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.
"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"
His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.
You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.
"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.
"Am I?"
"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.
"Thank you." your voice is quiet.
You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.
"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.
He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.
"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"
"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.
The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"
"You notice when I usually come here?"
"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.
"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.
"Yes."
Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.
"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."
You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.
"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.
Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.
Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.
When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.
This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.
You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.
Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.
Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.
"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.
"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."
"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.
"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.
"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."
"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.
"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.
"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.
His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.
"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.
"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”
Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.
"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.
"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"
"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.
You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.
After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.
"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.
Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.
You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.
Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.
"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.
Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.
The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.
As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.
You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.
"Everything ok?" the customer asks.
"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.
You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.
"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.
"All done?" you hear Joost say.
"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.
"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.
The customer pays and you hear him leave.
"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.
"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.
You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.
You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.
"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.
He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.
You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.
His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.
His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.
His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.
You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.
"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.
You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.
You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."
He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.
You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.
"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.
"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.
He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.
"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.
"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.
"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.
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