#But the good thing is that this work is still remembered

[thinkinonsense]

-cravings.

cw: feral!logan, breeding kink, pervy!logan, marking, TA/ co-workers relationship, belly bulge, oral (fem receiving), gross!logan, squirting, male masturbation, spitting, slight praise kink, slight hair tugging, pet names, slightly grinding on abs? pantie play?

summary: logan's in a rut and only his sweet girl can help him.

a/n: so i pictured dofp!logan but x trilogy!logan also works! hope you enjoy <3 also also not proof read so sorry for any errors

"scott, have you seen logan?" your delicate voice fills the study as you pass by, looking for your mentor.

logan has been missing all day, which isn't the most unusual thing but it is odd that he said he would train with you today and yet, he's nowhere to be found.

"charles said he wasn't feeling well." scott replied, barely gazing up at you. "he's probably still in bed."

you nod, turning around to head upstairs and check on logan like any good friend would.

the floorboards creek under your light foot steps down the hall. charles, hank, and storm took the kids to a lab overnight to work on their final projects. the rest of the adult were either training or lesson planning. the wooden door glowed with golden light illuminating the rim, so warm and welcoming.

one knock turned into three and four. all of them unanswered, leaving you slightly alarmed. this wasn't like logan to ignore you.

❀༉‧₊˚

meanwhile, beyond the wooden door, logan sat on his bed trying to get a grip on this feeling. it's happened before, the familiar warmth that spreads all over. a primal craving attempting to claw its way out of him.

normally, he can hide out until the rut is over but now it is different. now logan has his eyes on someone. not just someone though.

it's the girl he's been warned not to fall for. charles, jean, hank and scott have all told logan that he's not to make a move on you. the girl who's too pure for a big bad wolf like him. for once, he listened and steered clear of you, no matter how pretty you were.

until you signed up to be his teachers assistant.

now with the close proximity, logan is tortured by your scent. the sweet cherry he's become familiar with haunts his deepest thoughts. he could perfectly trace every outline on your body without even trying. honestly, he found it quite sickening how you've carved your spot in his mind.

next to him on the mattress are a pair of your panties from yesterday. he remembered seeing the slight flash of light blue from under your skirt when you dropped your pen in the hallway. there's a damp patch on them, calling his name in mocking tones.

"logan..?" your meek voice was barely audible behind the door. "can i please come in?"

a low growl hums in his chest at the sound of your voice. he wants nothing more than to let you inside and ravish you in the way he desires; but he doesn't want to scare you off.

"not now, sweetheart." he grunts almost as if he's in pain.

"a-are you okay?"

logan couldn't see you but he could picture your concerned face. scrunched eyebrows and wide bambi eyes, lips in a pout. god, he could just eat you up.

" 'm fine." his voice sounds rough, like a bark. he would never yell at you but he needed you to walk away because the feeling of his cock being suffocated in his jeans was killing him.

"alright." you whine. "see ya later then, lo."

soon enough he heard your footsteps down the hall, logan quickly strips himself of his black shirt, dark blue jeans and his boxers. without hesitation he reaches over to grab that panties he had taken from your hamper.

"fuck, smells so sweet." he groans, nose pressed against the soft soaked cotton as he tugs his throbbing cock. spreading the pearly beads of pre-cum.

with his senses clouded and a fire ignited in him, he kitten licks the patch, letting your slick dance on his tongue. picturing your legs wrapped around his head, how your tight hole would take his tongue or his fingers and the little noises that would escape you.

"that's my sweet pussy. all mine." logan mumbles possessively under his breath before spitting into the material and bringing it to his cock, using it to jerk off.

as his orgasm approaches, the fire intensifies; sweat dripping down his temples the faster his hand moves. abs also dripping in sweat as his chest rapidly moves up and down. mind swarmed with all the positions logan wants to put you in.

"s-shit." logan curses, clenching his teeth as his vision blurs and euphoria washes over him. ropes of cum spill all over his abs and happy trail, creating a sticky messy.

left alone and panting, covered in his release, logan's still unsatisfied. he knew there was only one thing that could fix this.

❀༉‧₊˚

it's near midnight when you finally hear logan leave his room. heavy boots heading towards the stairs, right by your room.

"where are you going, lo?" you ask, peaking out of your bedroom to catch him. he stops but doesn't acknowledge you. "gonna leave me here all alone?"

logan could've sworn that you would be asleep at this hour and he could leave to find some woman at the bar to help with his... situation.

"scott's around here somewhere." he dryly replies, trying to avoid your gaze.

"he left a few hours ago." you mumble, nervously messing with the bottom of your nightgown.

something was off about logan; you just couldn't figure out what it was. he wouldn't even look at you. had you done something wrong? was he upset with you? why was he avoiding you?

"i-is everything alright?" you ask, worried for the answer.

logan take a minute to respond, scratching the scruff on his face while he thinks. just because he looks strong doesn't mean he is internally. logan found his weakness in you. a woman he's known for a little over a year and yet you could bring him to his knees if you so pleased.

suddenly, logan turns and looks at you. he sucks in his breath sharply when he saw you dressed in a cute tiny white nightgown. logan was positive that you were the closest he will ever get to meeting an angel.

the material ends high up on your thighs and he swears that in this light he can see the outline of your nipples, watching how they pebble from the cool air in the hallway.

"it's just cravings." he finally answers, tearing his eyes off of your pretty shape.

the moment logan makes eye contact with you, you notice how the color changed from a light hazel to bordering black. he looked hungry. you've heard of this before, a feral state that mutants like him enter every six months or so and if you knew better, you would run.

"anything i can help you with?" you ask, batting your long lashes up at him.

"it's real dirty work, princess." logan warns, restraining himself from jumping at the opportunity.

"i don't mind." you tell him. in that moment, a familiar aroma hits him. "i wanna help you, logan."

normally, logan wouldn't let things get this far. sure, the two of you have made sly flirty comments in the past but it's never gone past just words.

he watches you walk back into your room, keeping the door open for him.

❀༉‧₊˚

your bedroom was damn near exactly how logan pictured it. soft earth toned colors, pretty sheets, messy desk with all the paperwork you two do together. most importantly, it smelled like you. not your perfume or whatever candle you lit earlier. this was different.

"logan..." your voice pulls him back to reality. "tell me what you want me to do."

so considerate. logan thinks to himself as he watches you sit with your knees against the mattress and look up at him like a dog looking at its owner, waiting for an order.

without a warning, logan crashes his lips against yours. it hot and messy how he almost swallows you whole. both of you have waited forever for this moment.

logan lays you flat on the mattress, not breaking the kiss. your teeth bite down on his bottom lip at the small thud. you go to whisper an apology but it's covered by logan's loud groaning.

he take this opportunity to grind against you, only covered in a pair of matching white panties. if he was in a clearer head space, he would've thought this was planned.

"u-uh, please." you whimper against his lips, lifting your hips a little to meet his.

it's quite cute how pathetic you look right now. struggling for more. logan latches his lips to your neck, leaving dark maroon bites behind as he moves further south.

at the waistband of your panties, logan nips at the skin on your hipbone, leaving behind a pretty mark to match the others. he craved to be closer to you. pressing his nose into the wet patch and inhaling sharply, grunting at your essence.

a loud squeal falls from your lips as you lazily try to push him away. too embarrassed by the lewd action. nonetheless, logan refuses to move until he's had enough. licking over the cotton and making out with your covered cunt.

"l-logan!" you gasp as he flips you over on your belly with your ass in the air.

the sound of the material ripping fills the room. this was better than logan could've imagined. the sight of your throbbing cunt as it cries for his attention, and only his.

"prettiest fuckin' pussy i've ever seen." he marvels under his breath. "gonna let me use it how i please, princess?"

"mhm." you nod, trying to look back at him. "it's yours, lo."

your words send him on a spiral, he sinks you down on his tongue so he can fuck you at his pace. exploring your walls and reveling in your taste. no dessert in the world could compare to you.

logan grinds against your mattress, desperately seeking relief. not that he's complaining. he's more than happy with his position; and so are you.

there will be bruises on your hips tomorrow, without a doubt because of how tightly logan's gripping your hips. keeping you right where he wants you to be.

"n-need more, please." you moan, fists balling up the sheets.

"what a greedy fuckin' baby." logan says, pulling off of a second to replace his tongue with two thick fingers, stretching you out for him.

pretty little 'uh, uh, uh's' spill from your lips every time you bounce back on logan's fingers. he's hypnotized by the way you manage to coat his finger with your slick. dripping down his palm and onto your sheets.

"look 'atcha, sweetheart." he mutters, doubtful that you can hear him over the obscene sounds coming from your pussy. "struggling to take my fingers. gotta stretch ya' for my cock. think you can take it?"

"mhm!" you answer, feeling a trail of kisses on the back of your thighs as logan speeds up his thrusts, locating your sweet spot with ease.

there's a warmth of pleasure that washes over you. it's different than anything else you've experienced. before you could even figure it out, you to gush all over logan's hand and the sheets.

"she's squeezing me so damn tight." he growls, watching as your pussy spasms from overstimulation, practically knocking the wind out of you. logan has to fight off cumming in his jeans as he licks up your release.

once logan allows you to catch your breath, you turn and say, "i've never um, never done that before."

"fuck." logan curses, smacking his palm down on your ass. "it won't be the last time tonight."

the sound of logan undoing his belt echos in the room. lining the head up to your entrance and slowly sinking into you. your eyes roll back into your head at the stretch. similar to a cat, you arch your back and purr at the feeling.

"f-feel so full." you moan as he picks up his pace.

"that's it, princess." he grunts, moving his hand down your back and wrapping it into your hair. "tell me how good it feels."

and you don't waste a single second to do so.

"you're s-so big, can feel you e-everywhere." you reply in between heavy breaths.

the hand wrapped in your hair tugs you forward so your back is against his chest. with his lips pressed against your ear, he mutters, "everywhere, huh?"

you nod, digging your nails into his thighs with each thrust. his other hand travels from your breast to your lower torso underneath the nightgown. your eyes shoot open as soon as he lightly pushes down.

"can you feel me right here?" he asks, slowing down his strokes for you to focus.

when you don't respond right away, the hand in your hair moves to your jaw, gripping it and angling your gaze down to the large bulge in your belly. you always knew logan was larger than the average man but you didn't even think this was possible.

"y-yes!" you whimper loudly, needing him to go faster.

logan's not religious by any means but in that moment, he wishes he could personally thank god for everyone being gone tonight. he can't imagine having to muffle your little moans right now while he starts pounding back into you.

"gimme kiss, please?" you whisper in between the lewd wet smacks of his heavy balls against your ass.

how could logan turn down his sweet girl? even while being ruined, you still managed to use your manners.

the two of you sloppily make out, exploring each other. he swallows all the whimpers you let out against his lips. except the one from when logan pulls back.

"what are you–?"

"open your mouth and stick out your tongue for me." logan demanded, staring down at you like a feral animal.

you obey, opening up for him like he asks. logan spits on top your tongue, feeling your tight cunt flutter around him. clenching at the taste of him.

"swallow." he says, watching you do so. "what a good girl."

"i'm so f-fucking close, lo." your head falls back against his shoulder as your vision turns white, stars behind your eye lids.

"me too." logan warns. " 'ya gonna let me fill you up, sweetheart? bet you wanna be full of me, to carry my seed? isn't that right?"

he knows you're too far gone, babbling incoherent sentences and soft pleas. the tiny, "mhm" and head nod give him the okay to cum inside you.

"s-shit!" he curses. "you're so tight, practically suffocating me, baby."

his orgasm triggers another for you, milking him until both of you are struggling for air. the room felt like the inside of a sauna and reeks of sex.

"got another one in you, pretty girl?" logan asks, slowly pulling out of you.

"y-yeah." you answer, letting him move you how he wanted.

logan slips your nightgown off of you and lays you down on your back again. this time fully taking in your form. every curve, dimple and scar. he makes sure to pay your breasts some attention, taking one in his mouth and massages the other, pinching and rolling your nipple until your whining. desperately you attempt to rub your pussy against his abs, gaining very little friction from it.

if he wasn't in this rut, he would've taken more time to appreciate this. next time he will.

you open up for him again and he slips in with ease. logan brings your thighs to your chest, folding you in half.

"harder, please." you beg, staring up at him with those wide eyes that he's a sucker for.

"i don't want to hurt you, baby." he grunts, trying to restrain himself.

"i can take it, lo." you tell him, stroking his cheek with your much smaller thumb. "i know you need it right now."

instead of answering with words, logan bends down and kisses you in a more tender way than before. as soon as he picks up his thrusts, you tug softly at his locks, making his hips stir and lose rhythm for a second.

"you like it rough, don't 'ya, princess?" he grunts in your neck while his thumb moves to rub circles on your clit. "fuck, my cum is just spilling out of you."

a tear rolls down your cheek, only further encouraging logan. licking up the salty tear before it falls off your skin. never in your life have you felt so dirty.

"please, need to feel you logan." you whimper and he knows exactly what you mean.

"don't worry, baby. i'm close." he says, feeling you flutter around him.

logan's gaze stays locked on where the two of you are connected, watching him slide in and out of you. almost drooling at the image of his cock in your stomach.

within minutes, you're soaking his cock like you did his fingers. slick landing all over logan's sculpted torso. your fingers gather some before bringing them to his lips, letting him lick them clean.

a loud animalistic growl signals his release, painting your walls again for the second time tonight.

both of you lay stuck together. neither ready to let go of each other just yet. on the floor, you notice something light blue peaking out of the back pocket of his discarded jeans.

"so that's where my panties went?" you giggle, capturing logan's attention.

"yeah..." his voice raspy and deeper than usual. "sorry 'bout that, sweetheart."

"it's okay." you reply. "but next time that you get these 'cravings', come to me and i'll help y–"

logan cuts you off on with the rock of his hips and the wet slosh of your ruined cunt. before you can even moan, he's grabbed your white panties next to you and shoves them in your mouth.

fuck, he should've come to you sooner.

– tags: @hazydespair @itsmemuffy @wolvndmouth @nightingale-slayer @melday0105 @collector-of-furby-furs @solistarrs @atomicmystery @milfsarefineashell @ohfourgotten @keerygal @shewolverinesworld @tezooks @spookysquids @llorentezete @actuallybridgetjones @planetxella @silversprings-mp3 @coocoocachewgotscrewed @lethallyprotected @laweona150 @sturnsvoid @emoevanafton @slowlikehoneyyy @ginnylupin @omnivirgo @shiv-r @buckyssugarchick @ayamenimthiriel @balariie @ssloveslogan @stabbedfawn @dxddyspup @leggomiegg0

[jeo9n]

INSTAGRAM

you’ve been texting jungkook on instagram non stop ever since he opened his account as a joke. but what you didn’t expect was for him to actually text you back.

౨ৎ

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, slow burn, friends to lovers, future smut

warnings: none

wordcount: 2k

you get woken up by your alarm at exactly 6am. like everyday, you open your eyes and the first thing you do is check your phone. catching up with everything that happened while you were asleep. texting your friends back that live in a different time zone than you.

you’re tired but you get out of bed anyway. you have to get ready for work. even if your body is screaming for you to stay in bed.

the first thing you do is make your bed so it prevents from laying back down. you already took a shower yesterday night, which you thank yourself as it saves you time this morning. so all you have to do is brush your teeth and wash your face.

when you’re done with that you make yourself a coffee and start to get dressed. you keep your outfit simple with some baggy jeans and a black long sleeve top because you’d rather be comfortable than fashionable. you always make sure to never leave the house without spraying perfume everywhere on your body. you forgot to but some on one day as you were running late, only noticing when you were already at work and someone might say it’s stupid but you didn’t feel good that day, you didn’t feel like yourself without your sweet perfume. you love to smell good, you love getting compliments on your scent, you love people smelling you before they even see you.

ever since that you never forgot to put perfume on again, but carrying around a travel size bottle of your favorite perfume in your bag just in case.

you pet your cats goodbye one last time before you leave your apartment. you hate leaving them home alone but thankfully they have each other so they are not really "alone" but it still hurts you.

you’re already on the way to the small coffee shop that you work at , as you remember you haven’t texted your boyfriend (jungkook) a good morning text yet. so you pull your phone at your pocket and text him right away. the chat is filled with hundreds of your messages texting him random stuff about how your day was and occasionally sending him some memes and reels you thought were funny.

y/n: good morning jungkoookkk!!

y/n: i’m on my way to work.

y/n: you’re probably asleep but have a good day.

you smile to yourself as you double text him. your not texting him in hopes to get a text back, cause that would be crazy. i mean, that guys is crazy famous of course he’s not going to text me back. you just think it’s funny, although sometimes you think it’s actually kinda weird and you should probably stop, but you never actually do.

as you open the door to your workplace you’re instantly greeted with the delicious smell of coffee, which reminds you, you still have your empty cup of coffee in your hands which you forgot to throw away. your coworker greets you good morning as she looks up from behind the counter.

"good morning. leslie." you greet back as you throw your coffee away. "ugh i really don’t feel like working today." you tell her, while taking of your jacket. she laughs and agrees with you.

"girl, i literally stayed up all night binge watching true crime documentaries." she tells me. "look at my eye bags! i can’t even cover them up with makeup." she says as she lifts up her hand to show me her dark eye bags. "but i guess it’s my own fault. i knew i should’ve turned the tv off after the first episode." she says in frustration and it makes me laugh. i can totally relate to her. you tell yourself one more episode and suddenly the sun comes up and you finished the whole show, wondering where the time went.

happened to me one too many times.

"yea…" you say, tying your apron at you back. "been there, done that." and she smiles softly in response. "should i make you a coffee? cause you really look like you need one." you tell her as you point to your eye bags, mocking her.

she laughs and kicks you jokingly "yes please! make it extra strong."

"will do." you say in a laugh, already on your way to the coffee machine. it’s definitely gonna be a long day for leslie today.

you put the coffee down carefully, not trying to spill the hot coffee all over the counter. "here you go, extra strong for you, your highness. " you bow to her jokingly while laughing like an idiot.

"you’re so stupid." she laughs with you, bringing the coffee up to her lips, trying to take a sip.

you worked a little longer today as usual since it was busy. but you don’t mind. working extra hours means extra money and you would never complain about that.

you take you shoes off and wash your hands as soon as you get home. after that you change into more comfy close just some sweatpants and hoodie and you already feel way better. you walk to your kitchen to feed your cats, who are acting like you leave them out to starve and never feed them. after your done with that you wash your hands again and make yourself something to eat since you only had breakfast today. you decide for pizza today as it doesn’t take long to be ready. you shove it into the oven and while you wait you brows through your phone. you lean against the counter and watch some tiktok’s to make to the time go by faster.

the pizza is done in under 20 times. thankfully. you cannot wait longer or else your stomach is gonna start eating itself. you sit down on your couch with your pizza on your lap. you try to take a bite but it’s still too hot so start browsing through netflix instead to find something to watch while your eating. when you find something your pizza has cooled down already so you start eating.

after your done, you get up and do the dishes right away so you don’t have to worry about it later. after that you decide to take a bath since you haven’t done that in a while and after that hectic day today you really need it.

the warm water hugs your body as you lay down in your bathtub. you feel your body start to relax enjoying the temperature of the water. your eyes are closed as you hear the notification sound from your phone, but you ignore it. you feel so comfortable right now you don’t want to move. so you stay put, enjoying this bath maybe a little too much.

after like twenty minutes you start to get bored and the water has gone cold, so you decide it’s time to get out. you quickly wash your body and get out. you do you skincare and brush your teeth while your body dries, after that you put some vanilla bodylotion on, quickly change into your pyjamas and head to bed, your cats joining you seconds after. one sleeps on top the pillow next to you while the one sleeps between your legs.

you go to grab your phone from your nightstand, checking it one last time before you go to sleep. your just scrolling trough your notifications not thinking anything by it. you stop at one particular notification and your hearts starts to beat faster. sitting straight in your bed, rubbing your eyes to make sure your seeing correctly. you cannot believe what you’re seeing.

jeon jungkook has fucking texted you back.

not only once. he double texted you back.

is this really happening right now?

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: woww! how long have you been texting me for ? there are like a thousand messages lol

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i hope you had good day at work! i just woke up.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: i saw your message and there are so many. i felt bad so i texted back. looked like your were talking to yourself haha.

wait. i cannot believes this. am i dreaming?

your hands shake and you’re not sure what to text back. should i even text back? would he text back again?

i take a deep breath. my head is going crazy right now.

after you collected yourself , you text back.

y/n: lol this is awkward.

y/n: i wasn’t thinking you would actually text back.🫣

y/n: i hope my message weren’t bothering you or anything.

you struggle sending the message back cause your hands won’t stop shaking. but can you blame me? the love of my life just texting me back and my stupid ass ignored it because of that stupid bath i took.

i bite on my nails nervously, my heart is beating so fast it might jump out of my chest at any minute.

i wait for an answer back, which is stupid, i know.

just because he texted me back one time doesn’t mean he’s going to do it again.

you know he won’t. but still, you wait.

you wait for like an hour until you realize he’s actually not responding anymore so you decide to go sleep. or try to go to sleep i should say, since your mind won’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

after a while you eventually fall asleep after what felt like hours.

the next morning you get woken up again by your alarm. this time you grab your phone a little faster than usual. scrolling through your notifications with tired but curious eyes.

you eyes widen as you find his notification again.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: haha no, you don’t bother me. i read through your messages last night.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: you’re funny haha.

abcdefghi__lmnopqrstuvwxyz: judging by the time i usually get the first message from you, i should get a message soon right?

you read the last text and it says sent an hour ago.

okay wait. he texted again? and he thinks i’m funny?

im definitely dreaming because there is no way that this is fucking happening.

your thumbs moves fast as you reply to him.

y/n: no way!!!

y/n: am i dreaming?? please tell me im not

y/n: is this really jungkook?

y/n: no, it can’t be

y/n: is someone playing with me?

someone definitely must be playing with you. because what do you mean jeon jungkook texted me back not one, but twice?

you actually cannot believe it yourself. this is crazy.

you wait a little bit to see if he’ll respond again. but nothing comes so you start getting ready for work.

how am i going get through work today, when all i can think about is him. you think to yourself.

~~~~

i hope you enjoy this chapter because im definitely excited about this fanficton ahhh

[sagekjs21]

1. Teacups

2. Chocolate bars

3. No...

4. Intelligent, bored in class, talkative

5. Soda bottles

6. Mix and match

7. Earbuds

8. Tv shows

9. Some unknown flower that blooms around here

10. Playing by myself

11. Whatever sounds good

12. Depends on my mood

13. Keyring

14. Something caramel

15. To Kill a Mockingbird

16. Down?

17. I really only wear one pair unless I need to dress formally

18. Rain or snow

19. Anything but on my stomach

20. Ipad

21. Which one?

22. Jesus

23. Counting things by using my tongue on my teeth

24. Not into them

25. One of several children's nursery rhymes

26. Stay inside with air conditioning

27. Depends on my mood

28. There is no way I can only pick five.

29. Having conversations, talking to one another, asking questions, actively listening 

30. Anywhere that I can feel the presence of God 

31. This is a stupid question. 

32. Jesus is truly the only vine I care about lol. 

33. I don't know, and I am so not going to look.

34. None

35. Between midnight and 2 AM 

36. I have no idea. 

37. Suitcase

38. Tea

39. Pie, although I like both 

40. I got locked in a stall in the women's restroom once and had to call my grandmother so that she could call the school so that they could let me out. 

41. @titaniumpeony

42. Pants pockets, jeans to be more precise 

43. Whatever I'm in the mood for

44. I don't know, anything that doesn't smell disgusting lol 

45. None

46. Depends on the season: winter: sweats or velour, spring/fall: T-shirt and yoga pants, summer: spaghetti strap and shorts 

47. All of them!

48. A berry, for Warrior Cats reasons, or a lemon based on a specific Warrior Cats post 

49. Tons of things in the Bible

50. Too many things to remember

51. Interpersonal conflict 

52. Anything easy to read or fancy

53. I have no idea what this means lol. Working? 

54. Do even the most disgusting of tasks as if I am doing them for God and the job will be far more rewarding 

55. Beauty and the Beast

56. I don't have any 

57. Surviving all types of abuse, facing my deepest flaws and working on them, loss of numerous relationships

58. Singing, writing, cooking, finding a balance between structure and spontaneity 

59. I will never stop trying. 

60. No idea 

61. "To the well organized mind, death is but the next grade adventure. "

62. Berryheart (Warriors), Frostdawn (Warriors), Violetshine (Warriors), Belle (Beauty and the Beast), the beast (Beauty and the Beast), Jane Eyre

63. I would never have a club. 

64. fanfiction.net

65. 5

66. I don't like flowers much.

67. This is an evil concept. 

68. Tomato, mushroom, or cucumber 

69. I have so many random facts in my head at any given moment that I can't even begin to answer this question. 

70. Right

71. Polkadots

72. I was basically a straight A student, so nothing. 

73. Green olives and whipped cream

74. Six or seven, depending upon where the pain is 

75. I literally have no idea, probably at age 3 or four?

76. It depends upon my mood, I like lots of different potato foods although I prefer rice overall 

77. I don't know, but I hope to find out one day.

78. Coffee, definitely! 

79. I have neither of these things. But my state ID photo doesn't look too bad. 

80. No preference

81. Fireflies

82. No preference

83. Writing 

84. Podcasts

84. Barbie 

85. Neither one

86. Depends on my mood 

87. Always being abandoned/rejected

88. To do the Will of God 

89. God

90. I have no idea.

91. No preference 

92. Christmas lights

93. Sage, Kath, Salty (per my pastor :-D)

94. Winter

95. Too many to choose from 

96. Artwork made by my friend, @pinestripe37 

97. 10, but only one is still applicable 

98. I don't have one. 

weird asks that say a lot

in

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

7. earbuds or headphones?

8. movies or tv shows?

9. favorite smell in the summer?

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

12. name of your favorite playlist?

13. lanyard or key ring?

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

18. ideal weather?

19. sleeping position?

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

21. obsession from childhood?

22. role model?

23. strange habits?

24. favorite crystal?

25. first song you remember hearing?

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

28. five songs to describe you?

29. best way to bond with you?

30. places that you find sacred?

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

32. top five favorite vines?

33. most used phrase in your phone?

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

35. average time you fall asleep?

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

38. lemonade or tea?

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

41. last person you texted?

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

44. favorite scent for soap?

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

47. favorite type of cheese?

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

51. current stresses?

52. favorite font?

53. what is the current state of your hands?

54. what did you learn from your first job?

55. favorite fairy tale?

56. favorite tradition?

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

62. seven characters you relate to?

63. five songs that would play in your club?

64. favorite website from your childhood?

65. any permanent scars?

66. favorite flower(s)?

67. good luck charms?

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

70. left or right handed?

71. least favorite pattern?

72. worst subject?

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

82. pc or console?

83. writing or drawing?

84. podcasts or talk radio?

84. barbie or polly pocket?

85. fairy tales or mythology?

86. cookies or cupcakes?

87. your greatest fear?

88. your greatest wish?

89. who would you put before everyone else?

90. luckiest mistake?

91. boxes or bags?

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

93. nicknames?

94. favorite season?

95. favorite app on your phone?

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

98. favorite historical era?

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel and you have broken up towards the end of your pregnancy until Sarah convinces you to come to Tommy’s annual Christmas party.]

A Christmas baby

“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”

Fluff jealousy childbirth angst

“Please come tonight, I really want to see you” Sarah spoke on the other end of the phone. You sighed brushing your hand over your nine month belly, the last thing you wanted to do was attend Tommy’s annual Christmas party.

You knew how much Sarah cared for you and how much she wanted you to be there but after having broken up with Joel just two months prior, it felt strange.

“My dad misses you” she spoke softly.

“I don’t know Sarah, there’s a lot-“

“Please just think about it, it’s Christmas. Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

How were you suppose to resist? Besides Tommy inviting most of the neighbors and having nosey eyes on you, it couldn’t be that bad…right?

Since breaking up with Joel, you had seen him twice. You remembered coming out of your OB appointment and Joel sitting at the bottom step outside waiting for you. You hadn’t expected to see him there, especially being that he never made it to any appointments, constantly over booking himself at work. You remembered the arguments the two of you would have, sometimes you felt he overbooked himself on purpose to not deal with anything that had to do with the baby.

Maybe he had cold feet you thought, whatever it was it didn’t go well mixed with your hormones, your sensitivity at an all time high.

When you moved in with your sister Abby, Joel constantly called her to make sure you were ok. Every night you’d hear your sister on the phone repeating the same things over and over.

“She’s ok”

“I swear I’ll call you if anything”

“No shes not lifting anything heavy, Joel”

Sometimes you couldn’t help but crack a smile, Joel was always invested in making sure you had everything you needed but what you wanted more was his time.

Pulling up in front Joel’s house you could see the guests from the front window. A part of you second guessing what you were doing there, almost tempted to turn back. Then there it was again, a slow pain that kept coming and going from your lower back. This must be what Braxton hicks contraction’s were as the doctor had explained a week piror.

“You made it!” You suddenly heard from outside your car. One of the neighbors, Tilly spotted you just as she was about to go inside with her older brother Jim. Jim was a good friend of Tommy’s, Joel never seemed to be a fan of his, you never knew why.

“Guess I can’t escape now” you whispered to yourself before opening your car door.

“Here, let me give you a hand” Jim gave you his arm as you stepped out the car.

“You look amazing” Jim uttered low as you grabbed onto him. Not expecting his compliment you smiled.

“Thanks”

“That red dress looks great on you” Tilly exclaimed.

“Joel’s gonna be so happy to see you” she chuckled.

Anxiously walking to the front door, you stopped at the steps to adjust your dress.

“Don’t worry Jim won’t let you fall” Tilly whispered, excitement in her voice for her favorite day of the year. Just as you began to walk up the steps the front door opened, to your surprise Joel stepped out. Caught off guard he stopped in his tracks at the sight of you, not expecting you to show up, much less holding onto Jim. You watched his eyes immediately turn to him, a stern look he couldn’t hide until Tilly’s high pitched voice distracted him.

“Joel! So good to see you!” He looked to her and gave her a nod, you could still see the disapproval he felt.

“Tommy’s makin’ drinks, ya got here just in time”

“Shit, you don’t have to tell me twice” Jim made his way up the stairs with you before you thanked him and held your hands together awkwardly. Taking a quick glance at Joel you noticed him looking at you but you didn’t say a word, neither did he, until you were alone.

“I’ve been callin’ you” he stood against the door, cheers and laughter could be heard in the background.

“Abby told me” you spoke softly. His tongue sliding against his inner cheek, there was so much more he wanted to say, you could see it.

“How have you been feelin’?

His question making you finally look up directly at him. He wore a red and black flannel shirt, the one he knew you loved.

“Um-it’s getting harder to walk in certain shoes now” you chuckled showing off that you wore flip flops with your dress. Joel smiled, something he hadn’t done much of since you left.

“Oh my gosh you came!” Sarah’s voice made you both turn her way.

“Hey Sarah,” you smiled.

“Oh my- that red dress is so cute on your baby bump” she grinned with excitement.

“Thank you” you smiled brushing your hand over your bump making Joel’s eyes soften as he looked at you.

“Oh uh- I’m sorry for interrupting dad. I just-“

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m glad to see you excited” he assured her.

“Well, if you guys don’t mind I really need to use the restroom. I’m going every ten minutes now” you laughed before quickly and awkwardly excusing yourself to the back.

Coming out of the bathroom you gave Sarah your sweater and purse as you looked around the room to all the guests there, you honestly didn’t know where to put yourself.

“Look at you, I’m glad you showed up!” Tommy approached you with a Santa hat and beer in hand.

“How are you feelin’?” Tommy asked as Joel appeared beside him.

“Well my ankles are killing me, my back feels on fire, she’s constantly kicking me“ you chuckled.

“but other than that I’m fine” you sighed.

“Aw she’s just excited to meet her uncle” Tommy laughed as he leaned towards your belly.

“Ain’t that right lil’ niece?”

“Tommy” Joel uttered giving him a side eye.

“What? Just a few more weeks till we meet, I’m excited” he took a sip from his beer before being pulled away to dance. Joel and you stood beside each other, his arms crossed as he laughed at his brother before looking over at you.

“How about we get you a seat,”

“Um, it’s fine, I’d rather stay here plus all the seats are taken”

“So, I’ll get somebody up” Joel looked back at the full room quickly eyeing who he’d get the seat from.

“No, no it’s fine” as much as your ankles hurt, you’d rather have stayed away from everyone asking you dozens of questions.

“You wanna lay down in our room for a bit?” His question catching you off guard.

Our room.

“Thanks, Joel. I’ll be fine. I’ll just take some water though, I am thirsty”

He nodded, his eyes remained on you longer than he meant to, drifting down to your dress laying perfectly over your baby bump.

“You look beautiful by the way”

Your heart skipping a beat from his words, you looked over at him.

“Thank you” you whispered before he walked into the kitchen.

Soon you noticed Mary and Lisa heading your way, two of the most nosiest neighbors you had dying to ask questions the moment you walked in. Those two women never seemed to know when to stop talking. Quickly turning towards the kitchen you walked off doing your best to avoid them when you heard a woman laughing in the kitchen. Silently stopping at the doorway you saw Maria with Joel, she was known for many things with men around the area, especially married men. Her hand on Joel’s shoulder as he held your glass of water in hand, you felt a jealousy you had never felt before.

“If it wasn’t for you driving me home that night, who knows where I would’ve ended up” she laughed as your heart sunk. It couldn’t be, Joel spent a night with Maria? Although you and Joel weren’t together, it was crushing to hear.

“Maybe you can drive me home tonight again…?” She spoke with a flirtatious voice as her hand creeped to back of his neck when you accidentally knocked something down beside you. Both of them quickly looking up, Joel realized you had heard everything but before he could say a word you quickly walked out rushing to grab your belongings from down the hall. Joel quickly put the glass down and pushed past Maria following you out as your heart raced with disbelief and hurt.

“Sarah where’s my stuff?” Your voice cracked as she looked up at you confused.

“In the room, are you okay?” You couldn’t respond rushing toward the bedroom as Joel quickly followed behind calling your name.

“It ain’t what you think-“ Joel appeared at the doorway slightly out of breath as you grabbed your sweater.

“Hey, hey-listen to me, baby” he rushed towards you trying to get you to understand him, desperation in his eyes, his hand attempted to grab your face.

“Don’t!” You screamed, tears building up in your eyes.

“The neighborhood whore huh?”

“No, dammit, listen to me!”

“No, you would-“ you suddenly stopped speaking as a sharp cramping like sensation took over you. Leaning forward you winced grabbing your belly, Joels expression instantly changing.

“What? What’s wrong?” He whispered, his hand reaching for your belly just as the wave of pain passed.

“Don’t” you shoved his hand away and took a deep breath. Getting yourself together you put your sweater on and grabbed your purse. Trying to walk past him he blocked your way, a look of concern he couldn’t hide if he tried.

“I’m not lettin’ you leave like this”

“Like hell you’re not!” You screamed, the music and the guests so loud nobody could hear you arguing.

“You can go continue your fun-“

“I’m not arguing with you like this god dammit, I ain’t trynna upset you”

“Too late for that” you aggressively put on your sweater.

“I didn’t do nothin’ with her! She was with Tommy, he passed out drunk in the car I was the only sober one so I drove. She got out the car went home and that was it, nothin’ happened between me and her”

“I don’t believe you” you shook your head as a tear fell from your eyes. You attempted to push past him but he wouldn’t budge.

“I ain’t lettin’ you drive like this-“

“What the hell do you care?! Go talk with Maria since obviously you have time for her but not our baby-“

“You know damn well that’s not true” he grabbed your wrists stopping you from pushing him aside.

“Let go of me!” You pulled your arms back just as another wave of pain took over. Quickly turning away you leaned against the wall.

“Ow-“ you cried out. The pain more intense than you had been feeling earlier.

Joel quickly coming behind you making sure you were okay, his hands on your waist.

“Come sit down”

“No, no…it’ll go away like it did earlier” you whispered in between breaths.

“What do you mean earlier?”

You stood silent as you slowly turned to him.

“What do you mean earlier?” He repeated himself sternly.

“It’s Braxton hicks, I had felt them last week and the doctor told me it was normal. I’m not dilated-“

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“There was nothing to tell!” You winced again from yet another wave of pain.

“I don’t think these are Braxton hicks, you’re getting them to close together, you’re having contractions“

“No I am not. Just leave me alone” you squeezed your eyes shut unable to speak.

“Stop being so damn stubborn, we’re gettin’ you to a hospital”

“No!” You whispered with a gasp just as Sarah ran in.

“Oh my god-“

“Sarah, tell uncle Tommy we’re goin’ to the hospital” he called out to her.

“Is she-“

“Yes” his voice somehow calm as he had you hold onto him.

“Oh my g- it’s getting worse” you whimpered.

“I know, honey. We’re gonna get in the truck now” he caressed your face.

“Is this actually happening right now” you whispered to yourself.

“I think so, baby”

Tommy ran to the truck with his Santa hat still on, opening the doors for you and Joel as the guests all watched on in shock.

“I don’t have my bag! My bag, Joel!”

“I’ll tell your sister to bring it” he buckled your seatbelt and closed the door rushing to the other side. Everyone watched as Joel sped off, each contraction becoming more intense you screamed in agony as Joel kept beeping the horn. If you weren’t so distracted with the pain you felt you would’ve seen how desperate Joel became with each sound you made.

“We’re here, baby. We’re here” the tires screeched as he made a hard turn into the lot.

Everything happened so fast, next thing you knew you were on the hospital bed being instructed to push. Joel holding your leg up, you cried feeling as if you couldn’t get through this.

“I can’t-“ you shook your head as Joel stood beside you, gently turning your head to face him.

“Look at me, yes you can. I’m right here and I ain’t goin’ no where, count with me” Joel began to instruct you with breathing and counting as the doctor prepped for the arrival of your baby.

After all the pain and chaos that occurred, it was all worth it. After the end of it all, you had fallen asleep and awoke to Joel humming Silent Night. Still feeling weak, you turned to see him looking out the window as it snowed. You smiled just as he turned and caught your eyes on him.

“I think she likes this song” he whispered making you laugh.

“You read the book” you spoke softly as he looked at you confused.

“The book I gave you about dads during birth”

He smiled with a nod.

“How else would I had known how to help you breathe through all that pushin’” turns out he listened much more than you thought he did.

“Mhm” your eyes began to uncontrollably close, you were exhausted.

“Get your rest, baby. I got her” without a word you quickly fell back to sleep as Joel looked down at his daughter with tearful eyes.

“The best Christmas gift I’ve ever been given” he kissed her forehead and continued humming the song..

Tags

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco

@ashleyfilm @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[hwnglx]

pick a pile - your fs' strengths and weaknesses

hi dear reader! let's take a look into your future lover's potential strengths and weaknesses. breathe slowly, take your time and use your intuition to go with the pile that speaks to you the most. remember to take what resonates, and leave what doesn't. 𓆩♡𓆪

⋆⟡₊⊹ pile 1 ⊹₊⟡⋆

strengths

this person is very loyal, consistent, dedicated. not only are they calm and patient, but they also approach their endeavours with a sense of practicality.

they're not a person who gives up easily. they're entirely committed to everything they do, and won't stop until they get what they want. very hard-working.

i can see them being this reliable source of security for the people around them.

it's likely others see them as one of the first people they seek if they need any help, especially in a practical manner. you can rely on them to get things done in an orderly manner.

your fs loves profoundly, and deeply. they're good at creating emotional connections that go beyond the surface.

though they very much possess a more grounded and practical nature at their core, they do see human connection as an emotional matter. i can see them potentially having a lot of earth placements (i'm getting virgo energy strongly), with perhaps a water venus.

if this person cares about you, they genuinely care. with all their might.

they're incredibly observant. very detail-oriented and attentive to the small things.

your fs is likely to be very attuned to your emotional needs as well.

they have good intuition, and the ability to see through people quite naturally.

like they're the type of person who will notice the minor details about your habits or behaviour, which can give them a good understanding of how you function.

as an example; they can easily notice your discomfort by one look at your facial expression. they're the type of person who can comprehend the way you feel without you having to verbally and directly tell them.

this is a person who can make you feel loved for your flaws and insecurities. they easily see beauty in the things you yourself might deem as unlovable or undesirable.

if you think you can talk about yourself in a degrading manner in front of them; think again. best believe they will make you stop, and tell you to quit being so mean to yourself.

i thought of the song “pov” by ariana grande during this reading.

like this is the type of person, who not only sees you as genuinely beautiful, but will also want you to understand how wonderful you actually are in their eyes.

it's giving billie eilish's “i want you to see how you look to me”

weaknesses

this person has notably been through a lot. albeit this has given them thick skin, it can still prevent them from comfortably making themselves vulnerable in front of you.

meaning, it might be difficult for them to openly talk about their own feelings and genuine thoughts. they might still be quite closed off and guarded at first.

when it comes to you, you can talk about yourself all day and they will listen quietly, but they'll likely not enjoy opening the topic of them, and the way they feel.

they will focus a lot on you, making sure you feel heard out, nurtured and taken care of at all times, but might not want you to do the same.

this person still has a good amount of deeply rooted insecurity inside of them. they can easily feel like they don't have enough to offer you, but might hide behind a stronger facade.

might be a hard shell, soft core type of person.

your fs might have the tendency to pretend they have it all figured out, they're mature, they're headstrong and self-assured, and disguise much of their self-doubt behind that.

they could get quite stubborn, “my way” and inflexible.

they're likely to be a little overly obsessed with things remaining stable, and might have trouble accepting change.

it's like they have this exact vision of how they want things to be, and don't want to accept anything else. they could have trouble giving in and comprimising.

i also see your fs as too much of a coddler. they might get a little overbearing sometimes, with how much they wanna take care of you all the time.

they might get too easily worried and concerned for you.

some of you might think or even say “you're not my parent, stop acting like you are”

i do think their intentions are pure and it comes from a loving place; but it might get too much for some of you who need your own freedom and space to breathe.

⋆⟡₊⊹ pile 2 ⊹₊⟡⋆

strengths

as soon as i started reading, i heard “all i see is you”

your fs will be completely tunnel-visioned and focused on you.

like even if there's a huge crowd, their eyes will follow only you.

this is a person who's very self-sacrificial, and selfless.

they're supportive, generous and giving. someone who'll willingly give the shirt off their back to someone else, even if it means they'll end up shivering in the cold.

but also in a material manner; someone who doesn't hesitate to spend a lot of money on their loved ones. they think it's a natural thing to want to give them the most beautiful gifts. it definitely seems like one of their main love languages.

let's say they did a secret santa thing with their friends. your fs is the type of person who, while everyone else probably bought something silly and more trivial, will likely still put a lot of effort into the present.

your fs is also a person who's quite committed and loyal to the ones they love. they do seem like someone who's devoted and dedicated to their special relationships, and are very sure of the people they hold extra close to their heart.

they're also a person who isn't afraid to get into conflicts for their loved ones.

if you end up fighting or debating with someone while in their presence, it's highly likely that they won't allow you to argue on your own, and have your back courageously.

your fs is also a person who's quite thoughtful, careful and mindful with their words.

i can sense them being aware of the weight of words, and how heavily they can impact or affect others. they aren't the type to just speak without consideration for others.

in addition, they seem to be very wise.

i can see them being a reliable and mature person who guides others very naturally, and has a lot of valuable advice to give.

someone who's not only always ready to help you out whenever you're in need, but also genuinely helps you out.

the type to check on you asking if everything went well, after you asked them to give you advice for, e.g. a job interview.

your fs is a person you can have the most interesting conversations with.

i don't think they're much of a small-talker, as much as they are a person who enjoys having conversations that go deeper.

someone who likes talking about complex topics, and hearing you out on what you have to say on certain subjects.

they seem incredibly intelligent, and knowledgable. someone who values education. i can see some of them even being in a position of teaching people and distributing their knowledge.

your future lover has a good moral compass, and strong principles. well-established manners too.

they don't seem like someone who's into casual and lighthearted dating. they take their relationships seriously.

definitely marriage material.

the type of lover you don't have to worry about introducing your parents to. an easily likable son/daughter in law.

weaknesses

your fs seems like the type to get jealous rather easily.

“i only look at you, so i do not want you to look at anyone else as well”

obviously this doesn't automatically have to be a bad thing. however, they're likely to overdo it at times, and possibly get jealous of people like your friends too.

they look at you as very charming, and someone who has the ability to make everyone fall in love with you. therefore, they might get overly protective and to a degree, even territorial. they wouldn't like you getting a little too friendly with, e.g. a guy friend, for this reason.

your fs seems like more of an introvert. i don't think they're someone who enjoys hanging around a lot of people all the time. they often seek more intimate and quiet spaces.

i can see them feeling left alone and lonely a little too quickly.

they might cope with a lot of their problems by withdrawing.

it might be hard to get to them once you two ran into issues and you might need to give them their alone-time to process their thoughts on their own.

i don't see them enjoying conflict or confrontation. they seem a little frightened and scared of heavy drama, and might be prone to running away to actively avoid it.

your fs seems to have this tendency of hyper-fixating. they might easily get obsessed over things, and therefore quickly lose sight of other, possibly more important things.

they might constantly feel this need to prove themselves to people, and can find themselves having an inferiority complex.

this has the potential to result in them working extra hard all the time, and possibly overcompensating in areas where it isn't even necessary or very beneficial.

there's a lot of need for reassurance and validation from others in order for them to feel like they're doing a good job.

⋆⟡₊⊹ pile 3 ⊹₊⟡⋆

strengths

your fs is in possession of a complex nature. they're likely to have a rich inner world, and a good sense of intuition.

they might be a more private and secretive person, who isn't as easy to decipher. someone with a more enigmatic exteriour, who carries themselves with an air of mystery.

it's likely they're more reserved in nature, and prefer keeping their cards close to their chest.

a deep soul not many people get to see.

beyond that shell however, i can see a kind and caring heart. someone who holds much more empathy and compassion inside them than what meets the eye.

great listener. someone you can comfortably seek in times of distress. not only will they lend you an open ear, they'll also display a shoulder to cry on for you.

they just radiate this aura of understanding and comfort. someone who can make people feel understood without having to say much.

your future lover puts a lot of importance into developing a sense of trust and stability in their relationships.

they genuinely treasure their loved ones, and put a lot of effort into making sure they feel considered.

they're very protective. they do have a possessive vein, it's more of a “these are my people, so it's my responsibility to make sure they feel looked after and cared about”

i don't see them as extremely suffocating though.

if you give them the feeling that they can trust you just as much, they'll grant you room and space to unfold yourself in your own autonomy as well.

they enjoy seeing the people they love thrive and do well.

it's likely they'll love watching you blossom in, e.g. your career. and gently support you through every trial.

your future lover has a quick and sharp mind. they're the type of person who remembers nearly everything you told them, down to the most minor things.

very attentive to their surroundings, and thoughtful.

likely to consider small details about you, you yourself might deem as trivial, but to them, they're very significant.

i can also see them having this balance of being sweet in many ways, but also knowing how to mentally challenge you.

they might enjoy the occasional intellectual debate. quite savvy and witty with their words.

weaknesses

this person seems to be a perfectionist; someone with high standards, who's constantly striving for the highest level, and therefore can feel inadequate rather quickly.

like 99.8% is not good enough, it needs to be 120% at least.

although they're very hard on themselves as well, i also see them having the bad habit of nitpicking other people.

the way they verbally express themselves does have the potential to offend people sometimes; despite your fs' initial intentions being pure.

it's almost like, the more they care about you, the more they might nag.

they're quite realistic, straightforward and blunt.

i don't see them liking to sugarcoat their words or make things more digestible for anyone more sensitive. like “you better take the truth for what it is, it's not my problem if you can't.”

your fs is also very.. very clever. i can see them being amazing at manipulating people without them even noticing.

it's like you fall into their trap, and aren't aware of it until you look back on the situation later; and you're like “ah damn i should've seen it earlier.”

they're incredibly charming, and aware of how to use their charm to their own advantage.

they seem like a person who's generally calm and laidback, doesn't let people rile them up easily.

but once someone does manage to rub them wrong; they're excellent at making them regret it.

again, spirit keeps asking for emphasis on their communication; impressively eloquent.

they just know the right thing to say at the right time.

so, it's rather likely you will not be able to beat them when it comes to verbal arguments.

they can feel threatened rather easily, and might often feel like people are out to get them.

especially when it comes to the things they've been able to build for themselves.

their territorial behavior comes from them not liking to let anyone close to their prized possessions, which in their mind, often includes their lovers.

[c-cobweb]

𝓣eacher’s pet ⋮ nicholas chavez

ᡣ𐭩 . warnings ᯓ +18, mdni!, professor!nicholas x student!reader (everyone is +18), cockwarning, p i v, creampie, semi public sex. a/n ᯓ i saw this interview and i knew i needed to do this, he looks like a math teacher (i love him). ps: english is not my first language.

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You knocked on the door in front of you twice, waiting until a male voice indicated that you could pass. You opened the door and closed it behind you quickly so that no one else could see what was going on in that office.

And there he, Professor Chavez, was sitting behind his desk. He was so focussed on what he was doing that he didn't even look at you, that was until you cleared your throat and he raised his head, his eyes connected with yours from the glass of his glasses, he smiled sweetly when he saw you.

“Hello, sweetheart” He said and put the pen in his hand aside to step back slightly in his chair and give you a smile. “Wanna sit here?” He asked patting his lap with his hand.

It didn't take long for you to go and sit where he had indicated you, your back pressed to his chest, you could feel the calm beats of his heart against you.

Nicholas grabbed the pen again and continued to correct exams. Ironically, the one he was with now was yours. Honestly, you didn't know if the answers you gave were right or not, you were never good at math, but apparently he put them all as correct. “You did a very good job, baby” He said kissing your covered shoulder.

You smiled and mused a little “thank you”. To which he smiled to himself, he loved how shy you got with him.

Then, he came up with an idea so you wouldn't be so bored. “Do you want to keep me warm?” He whispered in your ear and you could only nod your head quickly. “Yes, yes please”

Your teacher began to unbutton his pants and you put your hand under your skirt to put your panties aside.

The moment his tip made contact with your centre you let out a small gasp, he grabbed you by the hips to help you go down on it. Both of you moaned at the contact.

It's been a long time since you had him inside you.

You leaned completely against his body and rested the back of your head on his shoulder, you closed your eyes to the relaxing sensation that made you feel being with Professor Chavez.

You still remembered the first time you felt his length inside you. You asked for private tutoring with Nicholas since you couldn't understand the subject of the class, and later he offered to take you home in his car. What started as an afternoon of studies ended with sex in your favourite teacher's car.

At the memory you felt a tingling in your lower stomach and unconsciously began to move your hips from front to back.

“Stay still” Nicholas growled in your ear as he squeezed your hip with his free hand.

“B-but Nick… I need to move, you’re stretching me so wide, so good…” You said between moans as you continued with your slow movements.

“Baby, I’m working. I can’t distract myself” Your teacher murmured in your ear. “I’m really sorry, but I promise that it's worth the wait. Okay?” Your movements were gradually ceasing until you were still on his lap again.

You snuggled up against his chest while you watched how he finished correcting your exam. “Wow, you got an A+” He said smiling at you. “I’m very proud of you, I think you deserve a little reward” Professor Chavez grabbed your chin and turned your head to be face to face, and kissed your lips short but sweetly.

The next thing he did was get up from the chair without getting out of you and laid you face down on his desk, not caring that the papers there were wrinkled. Slowly he began to move inside you and you had no choice but to cover your mouth with both hands to try to suppress any type of sound that tried to escape.

One of his hands got under your skirt to caress your clit while his hips collided faster and faster against your ass. “That’s my baby, always taking me so good” He said as he threw his head back from pleasure.

Professor Chavez's glasses were fogged up from to the temperature of your bodies, so he took them off with his free hand and put them on his head, throwing his hair back.

The fact that your teacher's fat cock was inside you again and that his caresses on your clit increased made you even closer to ecstasy, and apparently he knew it because he accelerated his movements.

“Come on sweetheart, cum for me” Nicholas said, leaning his chest on your back. “I want you to milk my cock dry”

After his dirty words you couldn't help but come. And to help him finish too, you began to move your hips in circles next to his thrusts, to which he growled and got as deep into you as he could, releasing there loads after loads of semen.

You both got off the cloud and tried to calm your breaths. You stayed in the same position for a while until you both regained your common sense and Nicholas came out of you, making you whine when you felt so empty.

You got up from the table and saw how your teacher took out a handkerchief from a drawer of his desk to be able to clean your crotch and then put your panties back on. “You did so well, my pretty girl” He said hugging you from behind and hiding his face in the crook of you neck. “Now prepare yourself and text your mother that you’re going to sleep in your friend’s house, because you’re coming with me tonight”

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mlist , bots

 c-cobweb 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[nightstarn]

You're insufferable when you can't enjoy life even a little bit, I've ended friendships over this shit.

Do things suck? Fuck yeah, dude, they do. You can still enjoy something because life is precious, and entirely too short. Do the good work, but remember it's okay to take time for yourself.

I am actually begging some people to just let some spaces exist untouched by real-world issues and horrors.

Like I've lost count of the amount of times peaceful game or fandom servers have been ruined by people stampeding in with political rants, bitching about world issues, demanding internal activism, demanding vent channels so they can whine about their shitty parents, ect.

Like. Respectfully. Not every single space has to be inclusive of and welcoming of outside topics. The real world sucks. We don't needed to be reminded of that absolutely everywhere.

[sillymommy6969]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ 𝕻ICK & CHOOSE

Daniela Avanzini x fem!reader

summary: your best friend, dani can be a really possessive freak and you guys fight about it a lot. when you get a new boyfriend, she was falling back into her toxic ways, but you—maybe, just maybe—kinda find her jealousy… hot?

warnings: slight!nsfw, suggestive/sexual themes, harsh language, mean/toxic!dani, pushover!reader, cheating

Daniela had always been a territorial woman. Since her days on the playground, sneering at any kid who would come up and try to snag her seat on the swing or in high school, when she’d yank a girl’s scalp off for taking her cheer spot.

Being Daniela’s best friend could be really exhausting at times, especially when she saw you as just another thing she owned.

Even in middle school, people would mistake Daniela as your girlfriend, the way she’d always have an arm over you or scare off any interested boy or girl with one cold glare. And nobody dared give you a second glance. As much as her reputation shielded you from any potential threat, it stripped you of your freedom to experience things in the dating scene.

And honestly, she has no shame in taking accountability for it.

Daniela truly believed nobody was good enough. They would always be too tall, too short, too annoying, too quiet—nobody ever satisfied her rigid standard for your partners.

You’d spend nights in her room, after sending the boy you’re talking to home to recover from a night of mean and passive comments from Daniela, fighting her about her attitude.

She’d always roll her eyes, calling you ‘insane for getting mad at wanting to protect you’. But she’d somehow always make it up to you in some half-assed apology and big puppy dog eyes, taking you out for ice-cream, making sure you’d crawl straight back into her open arms.

And like the fucking pushover you were, you would.

You met Jake at a really cool record store. You stopped by the place after work—alone, because Daniela was still caught up at rehearsal—and you were greeted by a well-dressed boy with a thick Australian accent.

The two of you had shared a similar taste in music, and he made you laugh in a way you hadn’t in a very long time. When he asked you for your number, you didn’t have to give it much thought—you wanted to see this man again.

You didn’t mention the encounter to Daniela when she asked about your day that night. She would absolutely freak.

The months after you met Jake, you would hang out with him whenever Daniela was unavailable. You felt so free, mind in such a happy state whenever you were around him.

You felt you worry less about Daniela when you held hands for the first time when Daniela bailed on you for a Katseye bonding thing, when he kissed you under the snow during Christmas eve when Daniela wanted to go clubbing with Manon, when he brought you to dinner over a city view of LA to ask you officially to be his girlfriend with flowers and a record of the band you both adored.

You remembered feeling an argument with Daniela arise that night when she called to ditch you for her career for the nth time. She was making up some bullshit reason, when she was just choosing to prioritize her bandmates above you.

You sighed, wanting out before things got tense.

It caught her off guard when you would just tell her a simple “no problem, see you” instead of whine like usual.

She knew something was up; you had been acting off for months, the effect she had on you—the control she had on your relationship—was slipping through her fingers.

Which brings us to now, you in Jake’s car after calling him the moment you hung up on Daniela.

“No, I’m telling you, you need to watch the movies in order from best to worst, not chronologically,” Jake insisted, his eyes trained on the road, “It won’t make sense, but it’s better.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. You interlaced your fingers with his on your thigh.

“I don’t know why you love those movies so much, it’s just about grown men driving fast cars and tokyo drifting.” you teased, immediately scoffing at the loud gasp he let out.

“Don’t you disrespect the Fast & Furious franchise like that.”

You looked at him, admiring his side profile as he sped through the busy LA streets. You reached out to run a hand through his styled, black hair, feeling him buzz as he chuckled. “What?”

“Thanks for taking me out tonight, Jake.”

He brought your intertwined hands up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. “Of course, love. I’ll take you wherever you want, just give me a call.”

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed, interrupting the music you were playing on bluetooth. Siri read out the contact name and you froze; “Text message from, ‘DANI ♡’. On my way to your house, I’m bringing booze’. Reply?”

Your hand untangled from Jake’s grabbing your phone to quickly silence the message. You shot her a quick “sounds good” before shoving your phone into your purse. Jake raised an eyebrow, glancing over at you quickly before he had to avert his gaze back to traffic. “Didn’t you say Dani was off partying tonight with her friends tonight?”

You nodded, smile faltering. “Yeah, but it’s fine. She probably needs a place closer to downtown to crash, she does this when they go out, my apartment’s closer than their dorm.”

Jake hummed, “So… I can’t stay over tonight?”

He drove into a small street and pulled into your driveway, turning the ignition off. Jake turned in his seat, his piercing eyes now fully focused on you as he grabbed your hand again. He pouted, quivering his lip dramatically as he sniffed.

“Guess not. Tomorrow night?”

He nodded, before getting out the car and running over to your side. He popped open your door, a hand held out to take yours as you both stood on the side of your car. He leant against the hood, hands on your hips as he smiled. “I’m glad you called, I’d rather be out with you than doing some lame spreadsheet for my stupid clients.”

You chuckled, slapping his chest. “Those stupid clients pay your bills, Jake. But thanks for dinner, that place was amazing. We should go back some time, it’s a nice excuse to dress up.”

He bit his lip, eyeing you up and down. “Oh, we’re going back if it means I get to see you in this smoking outfit again.”

“Okay, perv. I have to get out of said smoking outfit before Dani gets here.” You leant in, smirking, “Wouldn’t want anyone but you seeing me like this now, would I?”

He took your lips in for a long kiss, moving against yours in sync. You pulled away before he could deepen the kiss anymore, because you knew he’d sweet-talk his way into having you get back into his car.

“Goodnight, Mr. Sim.” You whispered, hands slipping from his shoulders down to his hands before pulling apart. You backed towards your front door, watching him blow you a kiss. “Text me when you get home.”

“You got it… Mrs. Sim.” He smiled, his hands in the pockets of his suit. “Have fun with Dani. I love you.”

You feel a flutter in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement, and you’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t even notice Daniela standing in your bedroom window.

The door closed softly behind you, and when you retreat to your room, you saw her. She’s leaning back casually, one leg crossed over the other, but there’s nothing relaxed about the way her eyes are fixed on you. Her lips are pressed into a thin line, and her jaw is tight.

"Well, well," she drawled, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Looks like you had fun."

You blinked, caught off guard. "God, Dani, you scared me.”

She was lying on your bed, a magazine from your nightstand sprawled out in front of her as she threw a swig of beer back. “I thought I’d come since I was in the neighborhood. Clearly, I shouldn’t have bothered—you’ve got a new little boyfriend for that now, don’t you?"

Her words are laced with venom, and it sets you on edge. "His name is Jake. He drove me home after a date, that’s all. Why are you acting like this?"

"Like this?" she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I just watched you make out with that fucktard in a suit in front of your house like you’re in some cheap rom-com."

Your cheeks flushed, both with embarrassment and irritation. "You were watching us? Dani, that’s insane."

"What’s insane," she said, stepping closer, "is you wasting your time on someone like him while you leave me waiting."

"Stop it," you snapped your voice rising. "You don’t know him.”

She laughed sarcastically, shaking her head. "I don’t need to know him. I know you. And I know you’re settling for someone go definitely doesn’t deserve what you can give."

You crossed your arms, trying to steady yourself under the weight of her intense gaze. "And what do I deserve, Dani? Someone like you?"

The words are out before you can think better of them, and for a moment, there’s silence. Her expression hardened, but there’s something else there—something raw and unguarded.

“I just don’t think he’s good for you,” Daniela scoffed, her hands in her pockets. Her sharp eyes glared straight at you from across the bed, swinging her legs over your sheets to sit on the edge of your bed. “I mean, when was the last time you had time for yourself, really?”

You groaned, shaking your head. “This is not up for discussion, Dani, I’m not about to argue about this with you, okay?”

“I want what’s best for you, mami, and it’s so obvious you’re not even that into him.” She barked. She watched you take your hair out, fluffing it out as you stripped out of your jacket, shaking off your heels, then the tight and skimpy dress you had hugging your skin. “Why’re you entertaining this prick?”

“How would you know what’s good for me? You haven’t given me any of your time since you debuted,” you sighed, “Y’know I’m very happy for you, Dani, but I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“Oh my God, it’s my opinion!”

“Well it’s not your opinion to have!” You raised your voice, “For the love of God, Dani, I’m not some pet you own. I don’t have to run every little thing or decision in my life by you before I do them, okay? And while you’re out drinking and fucking girls, Jake has kept me company. He doesn’t make plans and then call to cancel last minute. And he’s not a prick.”

Daniela’s nose scrunched as she held back a snarl. Her fingers tightened around your sheets, scrunching under her white knuckles. Oh, if she could have five minutes locked in a room with this guy, she would beat his face in so much he’d taste his own brain. He was tainting Daniela’s perfect little girl.

“I work extra hard so I can take you on vacations during my breaks. I deserve some downtime, don’t you think?” She stood, tilting her head, “It doesn’t really matter anyway, does it? While I’m out fucking those girls, you’re busy fucking him.”

“And what’s wrong with that, exactly? I’m a grown woman.”

“A grown woman who doesn’t even know what she wants,” Daniela muttered through gritted teeth. She walked closer to you as you backed away from her, eventually, your back hit the wall. “A grown woman who left her best friend waiting in her house while macking her boyfriend on his car outside like a whore. A grown woman who let the first guy who showed her any interest shove his dick in her.”

You shook your head, your chest tightening at her harsh words. She was always mean, but she had never been so cruel before. You felt tears well into your eyes. “You don’t mean that.”

“No? You hurt ‘cuz I’m right, mami?” She laughed at your reaction, a hand resting against the wall beside your head. “When have I ever been wrong?”

She had a point. She was really toxic with it, but she was seldom wrong. Still, you were absolutely over the way she treated you. You weren’t the same high-school girl who was loyal to a fault who would agree with everything she said.

“How much do you fuck in a week, hm?”

You swallowed thickly, turning away to avoid her heavy gaze. You knew to never stare straight into those piercing eyes, it was a trap. “That’s none of your business.”

“Bet he starts feeling you up every time, you say ‘no’ but after a couple drinks and couple kisses, you end up letting him touch you.” Her voice was low and husky, her breath grazing your cheek. “Then you wake up in his bed, feeling real good about yourself, before you leave him to come see me.”

Sex with Jake was a sensitive topic. He was a very passionate guy, very touchy and he loved inviting you over to his place a lot. You always thought he rushed into it too much, but you tried not to pay those thoughts any mind because you wanted to keep him happy.

“Dani, please, just stop.”

“He’s a placeholder,” she interrupts, her tone sharp and unforgiving. “You’re so desperate for someone to love you that you’ve settled for the first guy you see. It’s pathetic, honestly.”

Anger was gradually taking over your bruised self-esteem, but so does something else—something you can’t quite name. Daniela’s words sting, but the way she’s looking at you now, her eyes burning with intensity, her plump lips spitting out whatever insults she could think of and her body mere inches away from yours. It made your stomach churn… or flutter?

“Get off me. You’re being an asshole about this and I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” you say, though your voice wavers slightly. “You don’t decide who I fuck and that’s that.”

“Oh, don’t I?” She leans forward, closing the space between you, and suddenly the air feels charged. Her gaze drops to your lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. “I’ve seen you in ways he never will, loved you better than he ever can. I know you better than anyone. Better than yourself. And I’m not about to sit back and watch you throw yourself away on someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Her words are venomous, but her proximity is intoxicating. You wanted to shove her away, to tell her she crossed the line—but you can’t. Because part of you knew it meant she cared, and after months of feeling neglected, you craved it.

“You’re being ridiculous,” you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.

“Am I?” Her hand comes up to cup your jaw, her fingers firm against your skin. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me everything I just said isn’t true and I’ll back off.”

You couldn’t. Because she was right. You didn’t want to say it though, to give her the satisfaction.

“Whatever. I’m gonna take a shower, you better be gone when I get out.” You warned, gently shoving her backwards. “Take the booze. I don’t wanna see you until you stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum at their mom not getting them candy.”

“Don’t walk away from me.” She tutted, pulling you back by your wrist. Before you could tell her off, you felt her grab you by the waist, her lips silencing whatever you had to say.

It’s not gentle or soft—it’s fierce and demanding, exactly like everything else about Daniela. Her lips thrashed against yours, her nails digging into your skin as if she’s trying to stake her claim. Her hand crept up to your neck, fingers squeezing the sides of your jaw slightly as she gripped your throat. Your mind screamed at you to pull away, to tell her this was insane, but your body betrayed you. You kissed her back, letting out a soft moan as she pulled your lip back between her teeth.

Her possessiveness, her toxicity—it should repulse you. You always thought it did. But now, with her pinning you to your bed as her cool hands snaked up your stomach, things seemed clearer. The way she took control, the way she pushed you to the edge—it was irresistibly hot.

When she finally pulls back, her lips are swollen, her breathing ragged. Her eyes hooded and her pupils blown wide. “You don’t like me staying out late? Fucking whatever bitches who throw themselves at me?” she rasped. “If you missed me that much, you could’ve just told me, mami. I would’ve dropped anything to come see you.”

Daniela doesn’t give you time to think. Her hand slid from your throat to your heaving chest. She smirked, a mix of arrogance and desire, and leant in again.

“You like this, baby?” she murmured, her lips ghosting over yours, teasing but not quite touching. “You like me putting you in your place? Maybe if I’d done this earlier, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself into that fuckface’s arms.”

You want to deny it, to push her away and tell her she’s wrong, but the words catch in your throat. The truth is written all over your flushed skin, in the way your breath hitches every time her lips get closer.

“Answer me,” she demanded, her voice low and commanding.

“Yes, Dani, yes, I do.” You panted breathily.

She grinned in satisfaction, the grill in her teeth shining under the dim lights on in your room. She quickly muffled any noises that came from your mouth with another kiss, deeper this time. Her fingers were quick to grab at the hem of your dress, tugging it up just enough to make you gasp against her mouth. She took advantage, her tongue sliding against yours, and it was absolutely dizzying, intoxicating.

Her knee pressed between your thighs, you gripped her shoulders, nails digging into her skin as if to ground yourself, but it only seemed to turn her on.

“He’s just a blank piece of shit who wants to get his dick sucked,” she whispered against your lips, her voice dripping with venom and passion. “Tell me who you belong to, mami.”

Every word she said, every move she made, set your skin ablaze. You were getting hot and needy, your body aching at the absence of her touch.

“Dani,” you breathed, her name slipping from your lips like a confession, a surrender.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her dark eyes searching yours. “Say it,” she repeated, softer this time but no less insistent. “So you won’t ever forget it.”

“I’m yours,” you admit, the words tumbling out before you can stop them. “You own me, Dani.”

Her lips curl into a victorious smile, and she leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “Oh, baby,” she whispered, her voice sending shivers through you. “I’m gonna spell my name out in hickeys, so that boy you of yours know it too.”

Before you could respond, she’s kissing you again, more demanding, more consuming. Every touch, every movement feels like a claim, a declaration that you belong to her and no one else. You’re lost in her, in the intensity of it all, and for the first time, you don’t want to mind Daniela’s possessiveness.

You knew you’d fight about this in the morning, but confusion was definitely pushed to be experienced in the morning…

Jakey :) Hey baby you left your wallet in my car

Jakey :) Can I come drop it off really quick?

[pawpiefawn]

𝓯𝓸𝓻𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻𝓼, 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓸𝓻𝓮 .𖥔 ݁ ˖

❤︎ alhaitham x reader 2.5k words five acts of love, where alhaitham loves you more with each. reupload + edited from my previous blog. thank u coco for reminding me :"

ask around the bustling hub of sumeru city, and the native dreamers would often describe being loved as something mesmerising and captivating. it is much like a kaleidoscope, twisting and turning enchantingly in hopes that the beads would fall perfectly in place, but it never always truly does; endearing and a lesson for the lovers all the same. the messy beads twirl and turn but there is just some reason why they can’t get enough of it.

the thinkers talk about love like an anchor dragging you further and deeper down into the depths of adoration and affection and infatuation; to them, there are often few clear differentiations between sinking into love and drowning in it.

but for alhaitham, however – love is natural, like the cycle of growth of the dainty flowers and wild grass beneath his feet. a swanlike, enchanting piece of music that flows from your violin’s bow – with the right person, it is as natural as breathing.

but for alhaitham, however – love is also... unnatural, given his lack of experience. he has adoring fans, he has scholars singing his praises and piles of handwritten letters from secret admirers commending his mind and aesthete – but he has never loved before, not until you.

the first act of love. listening, when nobody else will try to.

alhaitham is a wonderful listener. if you ask him, he’d say that he prefers listening, even – he is content to hear all that you have to say, however nonsensical or ridiculous you sound to others. the scribe’s work is simple, so he never truly minds – to sit quietly with a small smile on his face while you talk his ear off about anything and everything – that is what love is, you are sure.

“hey, i’m sorry.. this is just too much right now.” you know they use this as a replacement for you.

“could you tell me another time?” another time will never come.

“just keep quiet, archons! do you ever shut up?” no, i’m sorry. i probably should.

alhaitham watches from his office as your heart breaks with every unwilling individual, each choosing to walk away while you tore your heart out, still bleeding from your ribcage while laying the offering bare at their feet. how could a human being be so cruel? there is much music, excellent voice, in this little organ – yet you believe you cannot make it speak because they do not choose to listen.

“...i believe you hadn’t quite finished your story from the last time we met.” he speaks plainly, eyes glistening – with pity or with eagerness is something you don’t wish to distinguish. let it be the same, lest the heartbreaking realisation that he is just like the others.

“you remember?” you ask cautiously. please do, i can’t bear to beg anyone anymore.

“i do. that day about your old neighbour’s dog escaping into your garden. you’re welcome to continue, if you’d like.”

he watches your eyes light up as you trip and stumble over your words, quietly surprised and eager to please. there is a soft feeling in his chest – a warm, weighing feeling nestled in his ribcage.

the second act of love. remembering, when it feels like no one else does.

it is no secret that alhaitham’s mind is incredible. highly intelligent, closely observant, adept at noticing discrepancies – any researcher would fight to have him take a spot on their team. he is good at remembering, you think to yourself – alhaitham remembers everything – the things you’d grovel at someone’s feet, to remember the slightest thing about you, for, and everything you wished the world forgot. him remembering everything is incredible – whether that be a good thing, or not; is another.

“when’s your birthday again?” your co-worker taps his fingers against his chin, looking through the sheet of office birthdays.

“it’s–”

“december 26th.” alhaitham walks past, not looking up from his notebook.

you and your co-worker stare in silence. he...

“yeah, december 26th...” you catch a glimpse of the silver-haired scribe around the corner. he remembered. even if it was just an offhand comment about how funny you found your birthday to be right after christmas. he remembered.

“huh.” your co-worker shrugs it off, noting it down on the list as if nothing happened.

something happened. you feel something warm blossoming in your chest – warm, comforting, lovely all the same. a tender, sweet feeling like the heavy blanket on a rainy day that attempts to capture your heart in your throat and keep it captive forever; there is so much you want to say to alhaitham. it’s nice that he remembers – out of all your friends ( was he a friend? ), who could confidently say the date without thinking twice?

“i believe those are nuts. if i recall correctly, aren’t you allergic?” the next time you see a glimpse of his silver hair, alhaitham peers into your bowl of noodles. nuts – how comical it is to think that such a small, minuscule digit could potentially cut off breathing for you.

“i thought i told them ... perhaps i didn’t.” you mumble, hurriedly spitting out half-chewed food into your tissue. you stare tiredly into your bowl – surely you remember letting the waiter know that you had an allergy.

“you did.”

before you could even turn your head to reply to his reassurance, alhaitham flags down the same, tired waiter. he trudges to your table, serving tray tucked between his arm and body.

“can i be of service?”

“excuse me, i believe we mentioned earlier that they couldn’t have nuts.” alhaitham stares at him in the eye, glancing briefly at your bowl with spat-out nuts beside it. the waiter grabs it, letting out a soft sigh of frustration.

“you are a service professional, are you not?” alhaitham interrupts the languid movement; yet he does not break the stare.

“sir, i am just a wa–”

“my apologies. are you are a paid member of this establishment?”

“i am.” the waiter nods in quiet submission. it is better to shut up than to argue with a man who loves.

“you understand the laws regarding a customer’s health and safety, do you not? even if it’s tiresome, if they had gone into an anaphylactic shock here in your cafe, i believe it would have been a matter of time before an investigation is launched and a lawsuit is filed.”

you hear alhaitham soften at the word they. they. you. you are important enough to him that he’d quietly, but fiercely rip into the waiter over your allergy. (alhaitham wishes you felt important enough to care about your health instead of apologising for not speaking loud enough.)

the waiter steels himself and takes your bowl back to the kitchen without another word.

“thank you,” you turn to alhaitham. “that meant a lot.”

you show him a soft smile, and alhaitham feels a wave of silent thankfulness wash over himself – that you sit before him, wearing a bright and sweet smile and not a pained grimace from struggling to breathe, on your features. he feels the same warmth in his chest once again.

“you don’t need to thank me.”

alhaitham remembers, even when it feels like no one else does.

the third act of love. holding, when your skin feels achingly colder.

alhaitham does not strike people as a touchy person; his love language is not physical touch. touch scares him a little, even. the thought that a simple loving gesture could be twisted and morphed into a threatening hold scares even the most intelligent and strong of men – but he is human, and that is enough for him to appreciate lingering touches on his back as and when he needs and wants to.

he sees you – fingers twitching and rubbing against each other, clumsily tapping against your palms then scrunching inwards – you need touch. you need to be held. it was as simple and as crucial as breathing. your fingers press in inwards of itself, and he watches the colour recede and return once again as you loosen your grip.

“come here,” alhaitham gestures, wrapping your hand around his. there’s something comforting about how your hand is smaller than his; it’s not that much smaller, but it’s smaller all the same. if you curled yourself up even more, perhaps you’d be able to fit into the palm of his hands.

“don’t do that. you’ll hurt yourself.”

“do what?” you look at him quizzically.

“i wasn’t sure if you were unaware, but you tend to self-soothe and search for touch.” he sighs quietly, absent-mindedly stroking your purlicue as he turned back to his book.

“although i believe you search for it too much. press too hard, and you’ll start to feel numb.”

“ah.” you stare at your hands – the left, which he holds, and the right, resting on the cool table.

“thank you.”

“i said before, there is no need to thank me. if it is a simple matter regarding your well-being, i would do–” he stops himself. anything, is left hanging in silence.

“i would be happy to resolve that matter.”

even holding you? would he dare hold something so shamefully broken?

“thank you...” you close your eyes. he hesitates; just once.

“you don’t sound pleased, nor satisfied. was it something i said?” you hear his voice soften.

no, it’s not you. you shake your head quietly, resting your head against your right palm on the table.

“it’s alright. you do not have to talk if you don’t wish to.” alhaitham replies. you feel him smoothing your hair back – a touch so soft and tender, you can hardly believe it to be for yourself. it was intoxicating; his touch lacked lust, full in love– you have never been loved (loved?) like this before.

you feel slightly warmer now.

the fourth act of love. comforting, when there seems to be no one in your corner.

“i just wanted them to be different. just this once. is that too much to even ask?”

alhaitham holds you tightly as you sob and lament; he holds tighter than he ever has before, and he mourns. he mourns for the walls you had slowly built up over time dawn with the realisation that it had been justified all along; alhaitham knows how hard you have begged for them to be unneeded.

“i know.”

you hiccup, ducking beneath his arm tiredly – and he holds you gently. he holds you, arm resting on the crook of your neck as you rest against a pillow on his side – he holds you like he has done it all his life. fitting yourself – not small but not big – into his frame, alhaitham thinks, may very well be the most natural thing the world has brought him.

“they had no right to treat you like that. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not your fault.” you sniffle.

archon, it hurt. you were going to get hurt in every lifetime, you know that– no, you deserved it. that has been etched into your mind since day one of starting your work. that was just who you were. the poor, miserable corner-sitter who had nothing else to do but correct their own mistakes. no initiative, no ounce of thought. why had the akademiya even hired you if its own people despised you?

“you don’t deserve to be hurt over and over, you know.”

how did he know?

“you said that aloud.”

you mumble a soft sorry, and he replies, shaking his head.

“it isn’t your fault,” alhaitham echoes your previous sentiment, almost teasingly.

“i believe you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

before you look up at his tousled hair to reply, you feel a soft kiss pressed to your forehead.

a kiss.

his kiss.

“if you find them still bothering you, come and talk to me. the scribe’s position is – it may not be much – but i know with my place within the akademiya, they will listen. i promise you this,” he holds your warm hands in his broader ones.

“if they do not stop, i will leave. i have no regard for a company that will not protect its own workers.”

he wants to say a company that will not protect you, but thinks otherwise. perhaps it is too much right now after his impulsive kiss – that is the one thing that alhaitham mulls over. he has never been impulsive before; always thinking through and filtering and being rational and all the things that makes alhaitham, alhaitham. being impulsive is not a trait others describe him by. 

so why, you–?

the fifth act of love. loving you, even when you believe people cannot.

–because he loves you, and alhaitham cannot, for the life of him and even with all the overbearing advice from kaveh and more bearable guidance from nahida – he cannot put it into words. for the first time in his life, alhaitham stumbles over himself, words tumbling out like love letters hastily shoved into a sack with a cut into it.

“what is so special about me? you’re always here, alhaitham, yet you never grow sick of me.” he finds himself caught off guard when you ask suddenly, caught in today’s throes of anxiety. your words hang cautiously on your tongue like a snake waiting for the moment a displeased reaction appears – whether you hiss or hide, is something alhaitham feels a modicum of curiosity about, pulsing, and pulsing, until he tries.

“you-”

there are too many things that he can think of, he feels. nahida, give me strength.

“you are- you are kind. and generous. you have a heart for people even when they do not have one for you.” he starts, slowly.

“you listen intently, and you enable people to open and talk. they talk because you listen and you support them with all your soul and it is so evident that you love.”

you want to cry.

“i admit i am not good with words, but you deserve every vow i utter tonight. you love so loudly, and you feel no shame for it – you have inspired me, and i dare confess that there have been many times i have desired to pull back, out of worry that i have felt the distinct possibility that i was about to fall in love with you.”

oh. you blink as if that hasn’t been obvious enough.

alhaitham is deeply and madly in love with you.

“i love you, not only because you are special, but also because i believe you deserve every ounce of love i can retrieve from myself. i know it has been made clear to you that others do not feel the same way, and it hurts to believe that some of it has come from those i know – i promise to be different–”

“you already are, alhaitham.” you feel yourself choke up. love is entangling itself around your trachea and holding you hostage, never letting go.

“you have never treated me with the same contempt. i love you, i know you return my feelings and for that i am thankful. i’m sorry that i’m not an easy person to love, please...” you trail off, feeling his body collide into yours. alhaitham holds you. he holds you, hand on your back and the other cradling your head against his shoulder.

“i want to love you,” he whispers into your hair.

“please let me.”

ask alhaitham, however? you see a soft smile adorns his features as he mulls over the question of what love is to him. love, forever yours, evermore.

[blondejellykitty]

₊♡ ˚⊹ hidden deep inside ₊♡ ˚⊹

୨୧ percy jackson x mortal reader ୨୧ is it foolish to think that greek mythology is real and that your boyfriend is a part of it? find part one: i know all your secrets a/n: (1.4k words) finally part two is here! sorry it took so long x 🩷

A month. You had a month until your lovely boyfriend Percy Jackson had his birthday.

You'd walked through almost every store in your city eight times before realizing you had no idea what to get him.

As horrible as it sounded it was true. What kind of a girlfriend couldn't think of a good gift?

You'd quickly given up trying to find clothes he'd like. Which shade of blue would he like best in his shirts? Was it too easy to give him clothes in his favourite colour? What if you'd overdone it and he no longer likes blue?

No clothes then.

You'd look at jewelry, you knew he prefers silver over gold. but he didn't like things that jangled and made noise. A ring then. But as you looked at the prices of the few you thought he'd like. Your heart broke as each one rose higher than the last.

No rings then.

You'd thought about cologne, none of the stores had the specific one he liked most. 

Then you saw a store that sold skateboards but you knew his friend, Annabeth, was getting him one. she'd thankfully told you before she bought it what she was getting him so you knew not to get it.

You briefly passed a bookstore before remembering how Percy made clear how he had difficulty reading. 

Everything you'd thought of it just didn't feel right. It didn't feel enough. Percy always put thought into the gift he showers you in, and while you try to reciprocate that, his birthday was different. 

This had to be the gift.

He had mentioned a restaurant he'd found, one that served all his favourites and you'd tried to get a reservation but they were all booked out.

He'd told you stories about how his mother used to give him blue candy from the store she used to work at but when you talked to her on the phone she mentioned how she was gifting it to him once again.

He'd tell you of the times he'd go to montonk with his mother but you had no idea how to get him there without him noticing. 

Perhaps you should just tell him. Tell him you didn't have any surprises but you still wanted to spend time with him. You could make his favourite food and do whatever he wanted. You could stargaze and he could relax, he could tell you more stories and have a peaceful day.

Stories. Percy loved stories! Of course, if you couldn't buy him a present you could just make him one. He couldn't read English well, but you knew he could read Greek, ancient greek. 

You'd been on a date at a museum and there was a statue holding a slab of writing. Offhandedly you said that you wished you knew what it said, Percy automatically read it out. He'd quickly brushed it off that he was joking but you knew better than that.

Over the year you two had been together and the year prior you both were friends for, you knew to take notice of the odd little slip up he has. 

When he's asleep and mumbles something in another language, one you'd bet was ancient greek. 

When you both visit the beach and his tanned shoulders and back over various scars. the odd white streak in his hair that he never has to dye to stay there, and from the baby photos sally showed you, he wasn't born with it. 

And finally there was his father. You'd never met the man but Percy often talks about him, and the strange family business at sea he works for.

You were researching and trying to learn greek, modern greek so at least you might have a headstart on the ancient language next. Planning to write the story, his story in a language he could understand.

But the more Greek mythology you read the more foolish you thought you were becoming.

A part of you, the part who loved a good fantasy story enjoyed the idea of it all. Stories of tragedy, love and war. Of heroes and gods alike. It all seemed far fetched of course but a nagging part of you wanted to believe it to be true.

Which was ridiculous. How could both science and mythology be true at the same time? 

Could the Earth rotating on its axis be the reason for the sun rising or could it be Apollo and his chariot? 

The reason for thunder and lightning is that Zeus was having a bad day or that there's a buildup of electric charges in storm clouds? 

Do you dream because your brain still thinks it's awake while you sleep or because Morpheus blessed you with a dream?

Is it possible for both to happen at once? That the sun is both at once? That the lightning is both together? That dreams have reasons?

Surely not... that would be absurd.

However it would make more sense about the weird horse that follows Percy everywhere, seriously that horse has strange vibes. Like he can understand your questing gaze, not to mention if you looked at him close enough you're sure you can see wings.

Or the time you briefly met Percy's brother on the way to work. You were running late and Tyson, you later learned his name was, knocked on the front door looking for Percy. 

They had something to do at work together and had come to pick him up. You were in such a rush to not be later than you already were, it wasn't until later when you thought back on it. 

You were sure Tyson only had one eye, but it was blurry like one second he was fine then next his eyes shifted into one in the middle of his face, before quickly disappearing again. You just assumed it was because of the busy morning you had.

The more you remembered the more that deep nagging feeling in you got stronger. To the point of it almost hurting.

Nevertheless you kept learning and kept writing, it wasn't completely accurate (not by a long shot), you just hoped it was somewhat understandable.

By the time you were finished the entire book percy had almost spoiled the surprise for himself three times. You could tell he was becoming more and more suspicious especially when you would continue to brush his questions off.

But it would be worth it. Hopefully.

His birthday couldn't have come any quicker. You both promised Sally to visit and have dinner with them but you got him all to yourself in the morning.

Everything was going to plan.

You'd made him his favourite breakfast without any error. 

You'd both gone on a morning walk around the city just like he said he wanted to, all without any incidents. 

You'd both bought lunch to take back home where you two watched a movie he got to pick.

After all of that, you finally worked up the courage to give him his gift. You'd left to grab it where you'd hidden it away. 

You looked over the birthday wrapping paper double checking everything was still perfect before running back into the living room where percy patiently sat.

"I really hope you like it, Happy Birthday love" You mumbled nervously as you handed the wrapped gift to his waiting hands.

"I know I will, beauty" His easy smile soothed your worries.

He carefully unwrapped his present, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he flipped the book over. His eyes followed the greek letters on the handbound cover.

The Tales of Perseus Jackson.

A modern day hero.

Written by his love sick poet.

He delicately opened the cover to read the dedication page.

For Percy,

Whether love is a chemical reaction or a arrow shot by Eros

I love you more than words, although the muses can try.

Happy birthday my love.

He looked up at you, tears threatening to fall past his waterline. He looked at you like you'd just hung the stars in the night sky, suddenly you felt a little silly. Why were you ever worried?

He raced up to tightly hug you, his head buried in your shoulder. His whispers of 'I love you's and thank you’s' melted your heart. 

It was all worth it. The late nights, the travelling to libraries, the endless studying.

You realized you'd do just about anything to see that wide smile on his face.

[drdemonprince]

Do you have any advice on hooking up when being very COVID concious? I want to venture into casual sex a bit more (I've just gotten to the point in working through trauma stuff that I think I can do it healthily - I'm including no conventional sex BDSM in 'sex' here, bc it does Feel like sex to me), but I live with an immunocompromised person and don't want to put them at risk.

I guess what's holding me back at the moment is knowing I'm gonna be asking a lot from partners on just the COVID front (do a NAT test + be in a room with an air purifier before my mask comes off), before I even get to the compatibility thing (I like myself but I'm a fat hairy transmasc who's repulsed by bottoming and mostly stone, so I know I'm an incredibly niche taste), and feeling like it's so unlikely to work out I shouldn't waste time bothering?

Why give up on yourself and on the conscientiousness of potential partners by never asking? I think you and lots of other COVID conscientious hotties are missing out on the chance to get to know one another if you don't put it out into the world that you exist. There are people out there pining away for a hot, fat trans masc stone top who packs a strap and a portable HEPA air filter, I hear from them all the time.

I would recommend making a post to Lex just laying out your interests and then some of your COVID protocols. COVID-Conscious Stone [Verse/Top] Seeks Bottom for Air Purified Fun is definitely gonna get some bites, if your area is anything like mine! I think it's better for you to lay out your COVID safety protocols in the text of your post -- you don't want to have to waste time heavily vetting a ton of incompatible partners.

You should remember that your caring about COVID risk is an ASSET you are offering to compatible partners, not a burdensome ask! The right people will be thrilled to see that there's still others out there who care about COVID and are doing all that's in their power to make socializing & intimacy risk-mitigated. Even people whom you aren't sexually compatible with will feel immense relief just seeing that your post acknowledges COVID as a serious risk. You're helping to normalize necessary conversations and make the entire space more accessible to disabled people just by being there as yourself, with your boundaries and limits.

The same thing goes for you being stone and not enjoying bottoming. Do you know just how many bottoms are out there who want a cute fat masc to top them??? Thousands of them, dog! You are what you are and what you are is fucking GREAT. And a lot of prospective sexual partners out there in the world are not good for YOU. And so you can filter them out and move on to the next prospect rather than thinking of yourself as a product languishing on the shelf. You have a lot to offer, and you'll find people who get you.

[beetlejuicyy]

The Sound of Silence

childhood friends! vi x reader

wc: 2.6k

tags: angst, hurt/no comfort, childhood friends, implied caitvi, vi is lowkey manipulative

synopsis: fate brings you and your childhood friend vi together again. while she's struggling with her own demons and her unstable relationship with caitlyn kiramman, you realize you had fallen in love with her. you're vi's safe place, but she is not yours.

note: for clarity, the text in "italic" represents past conversations

main masterlist

Vi was scared of being alone.

Considering all the events that had led to her knocking on your door, bloodshot tired eyes with no tears left to cry looking at you weakly, teeth chewing the inside of her cheek almost too hard, you had the realization that the woman at your doorstep had always been alone all this time. You let her in, despite having sworn you would never chase her again. You let her in. How could you not, when the pain she had caused you was incomparable to the way your heart shattered seeing her like this, fingernails digging into her skin, still sobbing and unable to keep her posture straight. She muttered weakly something resembling the word 'thanks' and made her way inside your small apartment.

You remained by the door for a few moments, looking at the back of the woman who always stepped proudly.

Vi was scared of being alone. Of course she was, after losing the people she loved, one by one. You had left the undercity when things were still going smoothly. It was an incredible opportunity, to be able to study in Piltover. You visited as often as you could, until Vander's death changed everything. You heard rumours of Powder working for Silco a couple of years later. And you found Vi in a wet, dark and cold cell almost six years later.

You had graduated and already secured a decent job. Through some colleagues who had friends and connections, you happened to find out about a girl with hot pink hair and an attitude that had been her days in prison for several years already. The description resembled the Vi you remembered quite a lot and when your heart skipped a beat at the possibility of finding her again you knew you had to check. Next thing you knew, half your savings were already in an officer's pocket as bribe.

"Vi?" You remembered it like it was yesterday, how your voice broke as it echoed against the stone walls deep underground. The officer stepped aside after announcing your visit to the inmate, allowing you to look inside the dark cell through the iron bars.

She called out your name in response as she appeared out of the shadows, only after hearing your voice, the familiar tone of her name spoken so softly in such a long time leaving her confused. She had grown into a woman, just like you had, and you both stared at each other in silence for a few moments, in disbelief.

You tried your best to help her. You visited as often as you were allowed, sent her goods as much as you were allowed and even reached out to a former classmate who was now a lawyer to get her out of jail. It was a complicated and lenghty process, but you were determined to have your friend back. In the meantime, you continued visiting her despite the  unsettling feeling the prison gave you, telling her all about your new life and reminiscing your childhood together.

This lasted no more than a few months, until you discovered that Vi had been released without notice. And as grateful as you were to find out she was safe and sound, out of that smelly, forsaken cell, things were only getting worse.

Caitlyn Kiramman had her wrapped around her finger. Whenever they would fight, you would find Vi in the darkest, deepest pit, drunk and passed out, beaten up, destroyed. You dragged her out every time. When she found out about Jinx, you held her in your arms and wiped her tears away. Whenever she and Cait reached a disagreement, you were there to listen, rub her back and make sure she fell asleep in a warm bed.

All of this despite the growing realization that you didn't care about Vi simply as a friend. She was ripping a piece of you whenever she was going back to her old ways. No matter how badly they fought, how big their differences, as soon as Vi would bump into Cait she would fold immediately. From annoyed you turned upset until you finally ended up heartbroken.

Vi was scared of being alone. Considering that, you would expect her to care for and respect the people she had left, not take them for granted like she was doing to you.

"I made some tea." You said. It wasn't an offer. Often times you felt like a parent taking care of a sick child, forcing her to take the medicine that had a bad taste. But this time, Vi was awkwardly standing in the middle of your living room, as if she had never stepped foot into your home before. "Sit down."

She obliged, almost mechanically. As you disappeared to the kitchen for a brief moment, Vi's glassy eyes looked around the dimly lit room. It was almost noon, but a storm was approaching and the clouds barely allowed any light from the sun to pass through.

"I'm done, Violet!" You yelled at her back then, she could almost see you right in front of the book shelf, where a tall lamp with warm light was throwing shadows on the walls. "I'm sorry I couldn't take you out of prison on a whim. Or help you with your sister. Or have the influence to fix all your problems."

The sound of cups and plates made her snap back to reality. You walked in with the promised steaming cup of tea and some biscuits. Vi's eyes avoided yours.

"But you can't treat me like a cloth you use to wipe the floor when it gets dirty."

You sat on the chair on the right side of the couch she was sitting on, obviously keeping the distance. The silence was painful.

"This is the last time I pick you up from whatever hell hole you throw yourself into."

Vi understood that very well. And yet, when you didn't come looking for her when she isolated herself from everything and everyone she knew, Vi panicked. She had grown so accustomed to licking her wounds at your place, mending her heart with your touch, calming her nerves with your voice that her steps took her to you purely by instinct, like a trained dog finding its way back to its owner.

"I..." She forced the words out of her mouth, chest heavy and mind blurry. She didn't even realize she was playing with her hands in her lap, flexing the fingers, cracking the knuckles. "I have nowhere to go." Her eyes were fixed on the still surface of the teacup, the flowery scent reaching her nose shyly. You stopped blowing air on your own cup of tea, in an attempt to cool it.

"I'm sure you have a room rented at a motel or something."

No emotion showed on Vi's face, perhaps due to the overwhelming amount of contradicting feelings turning her heart numb. Her empty, wide eyes looked through the cup of steaming tea, her mind replaying the things you told her through sobs and tears last time she was here. There was nothing else to say now, you've said enough back then. There was no point in running in circles, since you poured your heart out and all she could say was 'I didn't know '.

"I held you in my arms and played with your hair until you fell asleep still crying! You're always so touchy, so flirty, and I make sure you know I love that! God damn it, Vi, we made out on the floor, several times already! How can you not know?!"

"I didn't want to be alone." She said a few moments later, not as much of an answer to your previous words but more like a second attempt at conveying her feelings. She was leaning forward now, one elbow on her knee, the other hand reaching for a biscuit. Sugar seemed a nice idea, although it wouldn't be enough to sweeten the bitter taste in her mouth.

Several possible replies crossed your mind. However mad you were at her though, they all seemed too mean, too harsh to voice out. Instead, you took a rather loud sip of your still hot drink, taking some time to think.

"You're afraid of being alone but you come here, take what you need then leave me alone every single time! How is that fair, Vi?! "

Your words echoed in her mind. You didn't seem like you were eager to have the same conversation again, but she was reliving it now like she had done countless times. You did most of the talking back then, leaving her speechless and shocked.

On the other hand, you didn't have the heart to send her away. Only you knew how painfully your fingers ached to wipe the tears away from her eyes. How hard it was to sit away from her, when everything about her face, her body, her voice begged to be held. She had a couple of fresh bruises, probably due to a bar fight. You wanted to take her to the shower and clean her, have her change into something comfortable and fresh, and see her features soften as she fell asleep.

You didn't reply at all. Somehow, a lingering feeling of shame was piercing your heart. Why couldn't you be only a friend to her? You were good at that. It was what she needed. You could never compete with Caitlyn Kiramman, not in looks or status or money or anything else, to be fair. You were unrivaled in friendship, tough, ever since you were kids.

"I'm in love with you, okay?! I hope you're not also deaf, besides being fucking blind! "

Embarrassing. Though, however embarrassing, there was no other way. Weeding the feelings out of your heart was impossible.

Vi was scared of being alone. She became aware of it when you showed up that day on the other side of the iron bars. She had grown so accustomed to the darkness and the solitude, the cold stone and hollow walls. In a way, it was easier, having nothing left to lose.

"Won't you ask me what happened?" She was still hesitant to look at you. The guilt of running away right after your confession had been eating her alive.

"Whatever it is I am sure you'll get over it." You put the cup of tea on the table, forcing your body to move. Sitting there was pointless. It was dangerous. The closer you were to her, the weaker in your resovle.

"You're still as mean as you were back when we were kids." Vi said with a tired chuckle. "But you were never mean to me."

Quicksand. You were standing on it right now when she was choosing to play the sentimental card. In exchange, you chose to stand up and call it a day, refusing to play her game.

"I'll bring you sheets and a pillow. You know where the blanket is. You can sleep on the couch tonight but don't abuse my kindness."

You managed to take only one step before her rough, bruised fingers wrapped around your wrist in a tight grip, not allowing you to leave. Her face was still turned away from you, her eyes reflected in the now cold cup of tea. You looked down at her, expecting her reasoning. All you could see was the back of her leather jacket, two hounds facing away from eachother embroidered on it. Now you realized it wasn't the lack of light in your apartment, her hair really was dyed black. You tried to pull your hand away from her grip but she only held your wrist tighter. You yanked it violently, struggling to break free. She didn't flinch one moment.

"What more do you want from me, Vi?!" You whined. Your arm rexaled in her grip, knowing any resistance was futile. Vi was too stubborn.

"Stay with me until I fall asleep. Please." Tears were pooling up again, blurring her vision. The grip on your wrist weakened and your hand easily slipped through her fingers. Before she could pull her hand away you hooked your pinky around hers, not wanting to let go either, like an unspoken promise.

"You're still as greedy as you were back when we were kids." The corner of her lips curled in a regretful smile. You pulled on her pinky finger, urging her to stand. "Go take a shower, you'll ruin my sheets."

Before she sat up, Vi wiped away the tears yet to fall with her fist while the pinky of her other hand was still glued to yours. With a clearer vision, she looked down at your hands. You took a good look at her.

"You're hurt." Only after the words left your mouth you realized how stupid it sounded.

"It's nothing much I'm... fighting in a pit in the undercity for money."

"Vi..." You sighed. Somehow, you would always end up like this. You'd scold her for getting in trouble while she would tell you about her adventures. After a full day of taking care of everyone, she would come to you to be taken care of. But band aids werent enough anymore. She seemed to be thinking about the same thing. Her fingers slowly brushed against your hands as she held both of them.

Violet had successfully broken your walls once again.

"Do you remember how mad you'd get when I wouldn't come to you when I got hurt? Although you were pretty shitty at applying band aids."

"Vi, stop it. I know what you're doing."

Her eyes finally looked up from your hands to look at you directly for the first time. A clear sky, an endless pool of light blue that you drowned in every time. You felt weak in your knees. As if she knew, she pulled you in her arms, holding you in a tight embrace. She buried her face in your hair, her fists gripping your shirt tightly. She was so warm you could melt. It didn't take long before your hair was wet with her tears. As soon as you noticed, you tried to pull away to check on her but once again she held you even tighter.

"Don't let me go." She begged, voicing the feelings that her body was already conveying. "Please, please, please."

Vi was scared of being alone. The tears formed in your eyes didn't get to fall, as your nose was buried in the crook of her neck. Instead, your tears soaked her skin. She kept repeating the word 'please' like a prayer to god, like she would stop breathing if she didn't. You had the feeling she wasn't asking for the same thing anymore. With every time she said the word, it would seem to bear a different meaning, like it contained and entire story. Maybe she was asking for forgiveness. Maybe she was asking for another chance. Maybe she was asking for the impossible.

You had no idea for how long you stood there. Time had lost all meaning. In any case, like a benevolent goddess, you answered her prayers. As always, you welcomed her in your bed. You wiped her tears away. You played with her hair, humming an old lullaby until she fell asleep. You put her back, piece by piece. As her head was resting on your chest, her breathing even and calm, you wondered what she was dreaming about. The sound of the first raindrops hitting your window made you jump and Vi's nose nuzzled against your skin as she adjusted her position in her sleep. Looking at your intertwined fingers, you realized she had probably never dreamed of you, awake or asleep.

[icallhimjoey]

eddie?! 👀 did you say EDDIE?!?! 👀👀👀👀

i DID say eddie! i had a tiny idea that fit the version of eddie ive written before (and the only version of eddie ive written before) and so... here we are. i am: so sorry. Wordcount: 6.6K

---

Let’s Go Home

(find all other parts of this story here)

“Let’s go get him.”

You sound very determined for someone completely unsure of how to handle the situation. It’s difficult to watch someone so deeply unhappy struggle with parts of their past they can’t seem to get a grip on.

“I… what?” two wet, red-rimmed eyes stare back at you. Confused. A little annoyed.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie doesn’t get it. Frowns, entirely unsure of who you’re talking about.

“Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…” he looks so tired.

“I know we don’t need to.”

It always happened when the days got a little shorter. When the nights got colder and Christmas loomed. When happy, wholesome family moments would be advertised all over the world, and it all became glaringly obvious – once again – how that was something Eddie never got to be a part of when he was little. Not until Wayne took him in and tried his best to make the holidays special in his own way.

No matter how hard Wayne tried, though, the bitter aftertaste of abandonment and loneliness was impossible to get rid of.

Eddie would never admit this to Wayne, but celebrating Christmas just the two of them felt just as pathetic and lonely as it had done when he lived with his parents still.

Different.

Definitely not as traumatizing, which was good.

But still dreary, and sad, with a lot of playing pretend that he was okay and happy and fine.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

That’s not Wayne’s fault, Eddie knows, and he feels like a shitty person because Wayne always tried his best. Did what he could. It just never quite worked.

Christmas would roll around, and Eddie would get depressed.

That’s just what happened.

Eddie would slip into sadness, scary thoughts intruding happy places they weren’t allowed to settle into, but he’d not yet learnt how to tell them to fuck off. To leave him alone. Didn’t know how to get the uninvited guests out of his house, and felt powerless as he watched them settle into his living room. Nothing he could do about it.

Somber, pensive moments would slowly stretch until they covered most of the day. Mornings were the happiest, still. He’d wake up after falling asleep eventually, never managing to slip into dreams before 3 AM, and for a moment, he’d forget. The short amount of sleep would have him tired enough to not remember the reality of his life for a second, and in those moments, it would just be you in bed with him and that would be the only thing in existence.

It’s awful to feel reality set into someone’s body mid-hug.

You wish you knew how to keep it out.

Over the years Eddie had learnt he had to vocalize his feelings. His thoughts. Knew that a burden shared was a burden halved, but knowing things in theory didn’t make them easier in practice.

“What can I do? Let me help.” You’d whisper, and Eddie was lucky you’d known each other for so long. There were no worried questions of are you okay, or a concerned soft hey what’s wrong.

You know he’s not okay, and you know what’s wrong.

“You, here. That’s all you need to do.” Eddie would murmur and he’d pull you in to hold you for a short while. And sometimes, that would temporarily fix him.

There is part of Eddie that honestly thinks if he doesn’t think about it, that it’ll be okay.

If he ignores it for long enough, it might go away by itself.

He’s lucky that sometimes, it does.

He pretends that the foundation of shit that he’d been given for his life hasn’t got all the cracks in. The house he has tried to build on top might shake a bit in the wind, but he can convince himself that the strong support beams that have been put in place will make sure the whole thing doesn’t collapse.

But it’s getting closer and closer to Christmas, and he’s sinking deeper and deeper into everything that’s dark, and cold, and uncomfortable, and painful, and scary.

Everything is designed to make people feel happy around this time of year, and he’s in LA where the sun shines all year long and it doesn’t even really get cold at all. Not like it gets cold in Hawkins. The days don’t really get that much shorter, and he can go outside in a T-shirt and be fine. But maybe that’s precisely the problem right now; there’s no quick get inside the house, and no let me warm your hands up for you.

The comfort of a frozen nose that get nuzzled back to life is unattainable in LA.

“Can you go to another meeting? Would that help, do you think?” you silently ask him one evening, hidden under the covers and too tired to stay awake for much longer, even though you know Eddie’s wide awake next to you. He’ll toss and turn for a couple more hours after you’ve drifted off.

“Yea, of course. I should.” Eddie is quick to reply, but you know he doesn’t want to.

Talking about his addiction with strangers when he’s trying his best to pretend it’s not there will just make things worse, he thinks. Logically, he knows it probably won’t, but there’s always that fear.

“Can I join you?”

You feel how Eddie shifts in bed, probably to take a look at you, but your eyes are closed and you’re about to fall asleep. This isn’t the time to fall into a conversation in which he asks you why on earth you would want to hear a lot of people you don’t know talk about a lot of drastic measures you don’t need to know people let themselves be pushed to sometimes.

So instead, you feel a kiss press to your temple, and he whispers, “Sure you can.”

At first, Eddie doesn’t say much in the meeting you join him for. You mostly listen to issues other people bring forward, and try to think of things you’d do if Eddie was the person speaking. If he was the one with all of those problems. How would you help?

How would you fix it?

When a kind, soft-spoken voice asks if there’s anyone new who wants to share, a lot of eyes fall on you, and you shift in your seat. Sit up a little. Feel Eddie squeeze your hand in his which could have meant, it’s okay, you can tell people why you’re here, but instead it means, I got this.

Eddie talks.

Tells everyone about how he feels like he’s deep in a depression and that he doesn’t really know how to get out of the dark pit he’s fallen into.

How it feels like he’s five years old and stuck in a small dark room, and he’s feeling all over the walls but can’t locate the light switch, and the longer he’s looking, the more he starts feeling claustrophobic in there.

You make the mistake of asking him if he can call out for help.

“Have you tried asking? Maybe someone else can turn the light on for you…”

Eddie breaks down, elbows on his knees, face hidden from the group as he looks at the wooden floor boards through his tears.

It’s not your fault.

Eddie doesn’t expect you to understand the feeling of being so utterly helpless and alone that he knows there’s no use in even trying to call for help.

No one would’ve answered.

You scoot your seat closer to his, and lean into his side as you wrap an arm around his back, fingers curling around his shoulder. It’s nice. He needs it. He also knows there’s thirteen pairs of eyes on him and he doesn’t know how to tell you that no matter how hard you’ll try, you won’t be able to actually fix anything.

“Let me turn the light on. Let Steve, or let Wayne– Robin… we can all help turn the light on. We’ll fly Wayne out, Robin too, and anyone else that you want. They can all move in, we have the space for it. Just… please, let us turn the light on, Eddie…”

It’s the fucking sweetest thing he’s ever heard, but he can reach for the light himself now. He can find it in the dark, and he can turn it on. The problem is that it doesn’t make a fucking difference.

Turning a light on now doesn’t change anything about his past.

Eddie gets asked if he has anything more to share. He sniffs and wipes his face with both his hands before he sits up and leans back and says, “Thank you, but um, no. I don’t. It’s this time of year, I guess. I know it’ll pass.”

You hold hands, fingers intertwined, as you listen to everyone else share more of their own personal issues, and when you leave Eddie puts his arm around you and pulls you close to kiss the side of your face. He tells you that he loves you, that he’s glad that he came, and he thanks you for coming with him.

You can see in his eyes that none of it helped.

Eddie lets himself sink deeper and all you can really do is be there for him. Be there when he wakes up and be there when he goes to sleep. You give him the gift of routine. Of healthy meals. Of pleasant walks outside. Long showers after.

It helps.

But it doesn’t fix anything.

You try your best at damage control. Talk to Steve. Call Wayne a lot.

And it helps.

But about two weeks later, Eddie starts isolating.

He had never isolated before.

Not like this.

He’s in his home studio, hyperfocussing on four seconds of a song he’s working on, and when you interrupt to tell him you’re going to go to bed, he says he’ll come up in a minute. He just needs to figure this bit out. “I’m so close, I can taste it.” Eddie smiles a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes, and for a moment you think Eddie’s going to let you listen to his work in progress. He always asks for your opinion, but this time he doesn’t. He just looks at you with a smile that’s just there for reassurance until you leave him alone.

At 5 AM you get woken up by Steve, who softly says, “You need to come downstairs…” and leads the way for you.

“I got up to pee, and the bathroom is right above the studio…”

You find Eddie in the exact same spot, going over the exact same four seconds of music.

He looks like he’s being tortured, barely able to keep his eyes open. When you gently pry the guitar from his hands, his breathing changes, and you think if he would have had the energy to sob, he would have cried like a child.

“Let’s go to bed, Eddie.”

Eddie lets you take him upstairs, but then locks himself in the bathroom and when you ask if he can let you in, all you can hear are soft sniffles whilst the shower runs.

It’s then that you decide.

Something is different this time around.

Something deeper has bubbled up, and you know whatever you are doing here, in LA, to help him simply will not be enough.

You establish a plan and pull out two suitcases that you place onto your bed. You’re going to pack your bags and you’re going to go get him.

It’s clearly necessary.

Eddie is no longer letting you comfort him and you’re scared that the next step is going to be a relapse.

“What are you doing?”

“Let’s go get him.”

“I–… what?”

Eddie hasn’t slept, and his unwashed hair is wet from the shower he’s sat in for a while, and you’re very calmly and methodically folding clothes into a suitcase. You might as well be speaking in a different language right now.

“Yea. Come on. Let’s go. We’re packing our bags and we’re going to go pick him up and bring him back here.”

Eddie slowly moves to sit down on the bed, and he looks at what you’re doing for a moment before he sighs and softly says, “Steve’s already here… and Wayne is coming here for Christmas, we don’t need to–…”

He stops speaking when he sees your slight smile.

“I know we don’t need to.” You say and Eddie doesn’t like how you look at him with so much care in your eyes. He doesn’t think he deserves it.

Doesn’t deserve you.

“Do you want to bring both of your black hoodies?” you then ask, not giving him a chance to question what’s happening, and so he just goes, “Yea… yea, sure.” before he lets himself fall backwards onto the mattress where he shuts his eyes.

You let Eddie sleep for as long as sleep will hold him. Pack up both suitcases and let Steve help you book travel back home.

“Do you want to come?” you ask when Steve is on the phone to a travel agent. He is listening to the woman who’s reading him back information he’s just given her, so he can’t answer you, but he reaches out and holds your hand whilst you listen to him book two tickets to Indiana.

When he gets off the phone he reaches for your other hand as well and says, “I’ll watch the house.”

You give him a slight frown. “You know he’d love you to come with us… Wayne says Hawkins is covered in snow. We could watch Christmas films in the trailer… get Robin and run across Lover’s Lake again… or, call Dustin and, I don’t know, Eddie could challenge him to a snow ball fight and they could play–”

“Dustin’s 26 years old.”

“Yea...” you frown at Steve. “So?” you sound desperate.

Steve huffs a laugh as he rubs his thumbs over your hands. He grimaces a little before he says, “No offense, but… he doesn’t need us out there. Of course you’ve got to go with him, but every other person is going to be one too many.”

And Steve’s right.

The next day, Steve joins you outside as you’re about to leave. He hugs Eddie for a long time by the trunk of the car, and you know they’re softly talking to each other. You can only see Eddie’s back, and Steve’s face is hidden by all of Eddie’s curls, but suddenly you can hear Eddie laugh before he pokes Steve in the side.

You get hugged next.

Eddie doesn’t sleep on the flight. Just stares out the window and gets lost in thought. You know he’s not entirely sure of why you’re taking him back to Hawkins, but he’s also not asked about it again.

When your rental car stops in front of Wayne’s trailer, you turn the engine off and sit in silence for a moment as you both just… look at it. It’s four in the afternoon, but it’s getting dark outside already.

Forest Hills.

A surprisingly large lot of land that holds about twenty-four sporadically placed trailers; some of them neatly lined up, others facing whichever way. Wayne’s trailer was one of those ones, placed diagonally to the road, surrounded by dry grass for most of the year which was now hidden by a thick layer of snow.

Momentarily, everything about the image that you’re looking at looks like it’s 1987. Maybe 1988. You can easily envision a younger version of yourself running up to that same front door, it swinging open before you could even get up the steps, Eddie bursting through just to throw you over his shoulder and haul you inside.

“We’re here...” you break the silence, stating the obvious, and find Eddie’s hand to squeeze.

It’s a little silly, but it looks like he’s scared.

“Did you tell him we were coming?”

“Wayne?”

Eddie turns to look at you, slightly confused because, yea who the fuck else?

“Yea. I called Wayne.”

You watch how Eddie takes a breath. Watch that information settle within him.

“Do you want me to come with you?”

And Eddie does. Doesn’t want to do anything without you, ever.

But he takes a shaky breath and says, “I’ll come get you in a second.” before he opens the door and gets out of the car.

Footsteps crunch in the snow, and you watch Eddie, hands in pockets, rush up the steps to what used to be the trailer that he lived in with his uncle. The trailer that he found home in when he was about seven years old and Wayne had decided that his bedroom could actually be Eddie’s bedroom instead for a while.

A while turned into fifteen years in the blink of an eye.

You watch Eddie hug Wayne through the window. It’s another long embrace, but this one doesn’t part with boyish grins and jabbing fingers. Instead, you can see how Eddie goes limp in Wayne’s arms a little, and when he goes to pull back, Wayne just… holds on.

Just a little longer.

It feels a little wrong to be watching them like this, chin perched on the steering wheel, fingers hidden in your sleeves. It feels especially invasive when you see how when they eventually part, the first thing both men do is bring their sleeves to their faces to dry what has become wet.

Then, Eddie steps away. Slowly walks towards the room that used to be his bedroom, and he goes alone.

Good, you think.

That’s good.

Wayne didn’t understand at first, when you told him over the phone. That you were coming over for a strange, but important visit. But this was good.

It takes a while.

Your fingers start to lose their feeling a little as you wait in the car, but it’s fine. You are not the priority right now.

When Eddie eventually emerges from the trailer, you get out of the car, and wait for him to call for you. A, come on. Come inside. It’s fucking freezing out here.

Instead, you get silence. Eddie doesn’t stop walking to wave you over.

He makes his way all the way over to where you’re stood next to the car, and then, he hesitates for a moment.

Eddie can’t look you in the eye.

“Everything okay?”

You know it’s not.

“He um…” Eddie starts, voice trembling. “He’s not here.”

“What?”

Eddie moves closer to place a kiss to your temple, eyes looking away, over the top of the car, across the trailer park. “He’s not here. I didn’t find him.”

Eddie steps around you and gets into the passenger seat, and for a moment, you stand with both shoes in slush whilst you try to think of what to do next. When you look back at the trailer, you catch Wayne through he window. Gives you a smile and a wave.

For a moment you contemplate running over, up those same steps, to ask what happened inside. Maybe Wayne has answers to questions you keep asking yourself.

Before you can, Eddie roars the engine back to life.

You give Wayne a wave back from where you’re stood and round the car to get into the passenger’s seat. You can talk to Wayne later.

Back inside the car, you put your seatbelt on and look at Eddie for a moment. He’s got one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gearshift, and he’s biting his lip as he stares into space.

“If he’s not here…” you start pensively.

“It’s quite the drive.” Eddie answers, unmoving.

“We have the time.”

“I don’t think we’d make it back here before midnight.”

“Hey,”

Eddie turns his head to look at you.

“We have time.” You repeat yourself and place your hand on the back of his head where you softly scratch your fingers into his hair. “You good to drive?”

You don’t get an answer. Instead, Eddie puts the car in reverse and starts backing out. Just before he’s about to fully leave Forest Hills Trailer Park, he stops the car, even though there’s no traffic to wait for.

“I can drive if you want me to–”

“N-no, that’s not it. I can drive, but I…”

Eddie stares. Looks at his hands and just sits in silence, going through it. Then suddenly, he takes his seatbelt off, opens his door and quickly says, “I’ll be right back.” and he runs.

Left in a car with a running engine and a wide open door, you turn in your seat to watch Eddie’s breath leave him in white clouds as he runs back to the trailer, back up the steps, back inside. You’re too far away to see in the windows now.

It only takes a minute.

When he comes back, jogs down those steps in the snow, he looks a little lighter somehow. Like running back towards the car is a little easier.

Eddie gets back in the car, and he’s all loud inhales and rough exhales, hands rubbing together because it’s cold and he just ran through the snow, but then he looks at you as he puts on his seatbelt and he smiles.

There’s tears in his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“Had to tell him it’s okay. That I’m okay.”

Somehow, Eddie is beaming and solemn at the same time, but you’re happy that something has changed a little. That he seems to get it. You sink into your seat a bit more when Eddie pulls onto the road and starts heading south.

Eddie told you once, years ago, that he used to live in a motel before he came to Hawkins. How that’s all his parents could afford, and even then, they were always fighting with the front desk about money. Always late on payments.

It was just one big room, and even though it was just him, his mother and sometimes his dad, there were always people in their room. Strangers. Friends, his mother would tell him. Sometimes she’d even tell him, this is your Uncle Frank, and Eddie would be forced to shake the hand of a man he had never seen before and would never see again.

Eddie spent a lot of his early childhood confused.

He spent a lot of his childhood hiding.

Afraid.

Alone.

He wouldn’t ever trust anyone. People told him one thing and then they would laugh together and they would do something else.

Adults were evil, and yet the world was made so that adults were the ones that had to look after him. That made the decisions. That told him, go play outside, even if rain was coming down hard, and Eddie would have no other choice but to listen. To do as he was told.

He was only a little kid.

When Eddie was seven years old, he got kicked out of the room at eight in the morning and got told to not come back until they were ‘ready for him’.

Like he knew what that meant.

No one had told him how to tell time.

Eddie didn’t go to school.

But he knew that being sent outside meant that he had to go find his own entertainment for a while, and so he did.

Eddie was seven years old when he came back around lunch time with skinned knees and grass stains in his shorts, and there was commotion.

Lots of people.

People in uniforms.

A cop car.

A kind woman who asked him if he had lost his way. If she could help him get home. Eddie had just smiled and said, no thanks, and had tried to hide in the spot where he always hid. Adults were not to be trusted, Eddie knew. No matter how kind they looked.

Eddie was seven years old when he got pulled from his safe space, his little hiding spot, kicking and screaming, and got brought over to Wayne’s trailer. He’d never been back to that motel room again. Had never even gotten close.

The sun has fully set by the time you pull up outside of an old, run down motel that looks like it should’ve been torn down ages ago. Most windows are boarded up, paint on the walls is chipping and what used to be a light-up sign has been torn down.

It’s a dump.

Just trying to imagine someone growing up here has you choking up.

Little four-year-old Eddie running around these grounds? In dirty clothes too big for his body because nobody was feeding him right? Being exposed to things no child should ever be exposed to, simply because his bedroom was also the only room they had?

Before you can let it make you cry, you hear a faint chuckle beside you.

It’s small and weak, but it’s a chuckle none the less.

“I remember this place much bigger,” he says, like it’s funny. “There’s only like… seven rooms.” Eddie counts.

You’re momentarily unsure if coming here was a good idea. If facing this reality of his past is going to be doing him any good. If it won’t just break him down even more. But then Eddie turns to look at you and says, “Come, let me show you.”

Eddie visiting the place where he spent the first few years of his life turns into him giving you a surprisingly pleasant tour of the grounds. He recounts the other people that lived there, the rooms he wasn’t allowed into. How there used to be a soda machine here, and how sometimes the older kids would ask him to get them some cans for free, because his arms were small and skinny enough to just sneak them out the bottom.

It’s easy to skim the surface of this place like this.

To make it about showing you around instead of sinking down past the layers of self-protection that would have him walking around here with wobbly legs.

Yea.

This is easier. Better.

All of the doors are locked, but it doesn’t take much more than a good shove of a shoulder for the locks to give way. For the wood of the doorframes to splinter.

“Entering the Forest Hills way.” Eddie grins, and you suppress a smile. It’s a lie. Forest Hills is full of all honest, all hard-working people. But, it’s still a trailer park, and thus, the joke is funny.

Without much care, Eddie easily manages to open every door he comes across. It’s dark everywhere you go, none of the lights work, but the streetlights out front provide you with plenty of it, and your eyes quickly adjust.

Eddie shows you the laundry. Breaks into a little back office. A supply closet. Some other motel rooms - some that had semi-permanent guests staying there too, just like he used to be one. And some that would have overnight guests that didn’t know about the draft that would make the door slam so hard, you’d lose your fingers if they got caught in between.

It’s almost joyful, how Eddie talks about his memories. He hasn’t got many, he was so young, but every time he comes across something he remembers, he seems pleasantly surprised at his brain’s ability to bring it all back to him.

But then, when you eventually stop outside room number five, he pauses.

Stops.

Stares at the doorknob.

You can feel how his entire demeanor changes, and even though it’s painful to witness, you know that this is why you came here. This is the whole reason you drove all the way out here.

Eddie takes a good, deep breath but doesn’t move otherwise. Just keeps his eyes locked on a rusty old doorknob to a locked door of a room that probably looks exactly like all the other ones Eddie had already shown you.

“Is this where you lived?” you ask, doing your best to make your voice sound as neutral as possible. You don’t want to scare him off. Don’t want to trigger something.

Eddie nods, a barely-there up and down movement of his head, and then he goes for the doorhandle, rattles it weakly.

Keeps staring at it.

“Door’s locked.” He croaks, like that had been a problem for any of the other doors.

But it does make sense.

You understand that the person who opened up all those other doors was Eddie in his thirties, showing you around.

The person staring at the doorknob now, was Eddie as a child.

Afraid to go inside, unsure of what he was going to find there.

Not strong enough.

Maybe only just tall enough to even reach.

But, you were strong.

You had witnessed how a little force had gone a long way with these locks, and after giving Eddie a second to maybe ask for help, because God, you really wanted him to realize he could just ask for help, he doesn’t ask for shit, and you decide to take matters into your own hands.

Before Eddie even registers you taking a few steps back to get a running start, the wood of the door has already split from the blow of your shoulder.

“Oh my G–” Eddie jumps, both arms reaching out to grab at you and to pull you close. He makes sure he holds you where you ran into the door, large palm cupping over the curve of your shoulder, and he rubs the skin there. Which helps, because, you’re not really hiding the fact that Jesus fuck that fucking hurt very well.  

Despite the sting, there’s a moment where you both see the humor in what just happened, and looking at each other, you both let huffs of laughter escape you.

“Are you crazy? What you do that for, huh?” Eddie pretend scolds.

You shrug, “Forest Hills way.”  

The comedic relief is so welcome, but it’s short-lived. You see from up close how Eddie’s expression drops. He goes from looking at his insane girlfriend with all the love he’s got for her spilling from his eyes, to looking over your head into the dark room where he used to live, and it all slips away.

You wait by the door.

Want Eddie to do this alone because you think it’ll be better that way.

You also truly don’t know what to do, so it feels a little safer to just… wait outside. You wouldn’t know how to help anyway.

Just like when you were outside of Wayne’s trailer, it feels a little invasive to look at Eddie as he silently takes slow steps inside and looks around. At the same time, you can’t really look away. If he’s going to break down and fall to his knees, you want to be there within a second to pick him back up.

Eddie trails slow fingers along a dresser.

Takes careful steps towards a nightstand of which he opens and then closes the drawer.

“Huh…” he comments. Looks around the full room again, sees it in different light as he stands in another corner, the lights from outside showing him different parts of the room.

He disappears into the bathroom for a moment before he steps back out, and he looks… confused.

Surprised, maybe. A little dumbfounded.

He gives the room another glance, and then turns to find you watching him in silence.

“This is really weird,” Eddie comments, both eyebrows raised.

“Yea? How so?”

“I don’t know… it’s different. It’s not like I remember. I think… I don’t know, I think my mind made this room the most terrible place ever in the world, but it’s just… it’s just a room. There’s nothing…” Eddie twirls on the spot, “Yea, it’s just a room. Nothing’s… nothing is scary.”

You swallow audibly, and hesitate before you speak.

“It’s not scary.” Eddie concludes again before you can say anything, and he raises both shoulders at you in a long shrug, like he’s trying to convince you that it’s all right.

You’re not the one who needs convincing though.

“Is, um…” you start, and you clear your throat, entirely unsure of how Eddie is going to react to your question.

After visiting Wayne, you think he gets it now.

He gets why you took him back to Indiana.

Eddie has let his eyes fall on a weird piece of wall art he doesn’t remember, something that maybe they added to the room after his parents had been kicked out, and he’d been taken away to go live somewhere safer.

“Is he here?”

“Huh?”

“Is he in here, somewhere?”

It takes a moment of Eddie looking at you before he fully registers what you’re talking about.

His gaze drifts towards the closet next to the bathroom door.

It’s shut. Both bifold doors closed.

Eddie stalls for a moment, and then he raises an arm to open one of the doors before he drops it by his side again.

The closet’s empty.

It seemingly comes from nowhere, the way your lips suddenly quiver. How your eyes well up with tears so quickly. You have to cover your mouth with your hand to remain silent; this isn’t about you.

Eddie is slowly taking it all in, looks around the inside of the closet. The stains in the carpet. The peeling wallpaper. The mismatched hangers, a couple plastic ones amongst a couple more wire ones. And then he looks up and finds the the little yellowed piece of string that hangs down from way up high.

He reaches up and pulls it.

An audible click is heard.

Nothing changes though.

No light springs on.

Eddie pulls it again. Softly smiles. Pulls it a couple more times.

Click, click.

Click, click.

Nothing happens.

You’re about to burst with a violent sob when you see how Eddie, entirely in his own thoughts, inside of his own memories, slowly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him.

You hear the clicking of the light a couple more times, and need to step away.  

It’s too much.

The visuals of a tiny little malnourished Eddie hiding in a closet unable to reach the string of the light in there is going to make you hyperventilate if you’re not careful, so you have to take a walk.

It’s fucking freezing but hot tears trail down your cheeks as you hurry back to your rental car.

It doesn’t take much longer for Eddie to step outside, leaving the place where he spent the first few years of his life. His long legs carry him over to you quickly.

You can tell that he’s holding back sobs until he’s close enough to crash himself into you.

Arms wrap so tightly, they almost hurt. Bodies wrack with silent sobs until deep breaths calm the both of you down.

It takes a good while.

Eddie is first to pull back, and whilst cupping your face, both his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes in a bid to rid you of your tears, he manages to squeak, “Found him.”

“Yea?” you ask wetly. Hopeful.

This is why you came out here.

To find the small version of Eddie who, even as a toddler, knew that calling out for help was a waste of time because the calls would go unanswered.

To take him home.

“Turned on the–” Eddie throat closes up before he can even say it.

“Turned on the light for him?” you finish for him, and he just nods as he presses his lips together to keep them from wobbling.

Eddie goes in for another hug, hides his face in the side of your neck and grounds himself there.

You can feel how he’s actively trying to steady his own breathing.

It works, eventually.

“Did you…” you start, still holding him, but falter for a moment.

“Did I what?” Eddie asks, sniffing loudly, pulling back after you nudge your nose into his hair.

“Did you take him with you?”

It’s such a silly question. Eddie can’t help the smile that carefully plays at the corner of his mouth, and his eyebrows scrunch up as he looks down at you. He can dissect the question that pops up in the back of his brain for the fourth time today another time. How can he even begin to figure out why he deserves someone like you in his life?

“I did.” He confirms, and you let the breath you were holding escape you in a shudder.

He doesn’t think he deserves you.

“Good.” you smile, and maybe things are starting to look up, a little. Maybe the universe is slowly starting to make amends with Eddie. Is starting to apologize for all the shit it put little Eddie through in this godforsaken place no one should spend more than a single night at.

“Let’s take him home then.”

Eddie cries.

Thought he was done, but he’s not.

He lets you press kisses to the skin just underneath his eyes as he closes them.

He lets you open the car door and help him into the passenger’s seat.

Lets you drive all the way back to Wayne’s whilst he cries, because this is the second time little Eddie makes this trip, from the motel to Forest Hills. But this time he’s not scared.

He knows he’s going to go to a better place.

A safer place.

To a person who will try his very best hand at proper damage control. Who’s got a nice trailer, and a room that will get turned into his own bedroom three days into his stay.

To a person who will join Eddie in the closet for those first few nights. Who will just bring him food in there, have their dinner hidden away together, and who won’t force him out.

Who will play silly games with him in there, until the trips to the bathroom feel safe enough to do on his own.

There’s never other people in the trailer.

Just them.

Safe.

Eddie cries as he remembers more. Thought he had forgotten almost everything, but he remembers so much. He can’t talk about anything yet. Not now. His voice won’t let him. But that’s okay. You’ve got the radio on and need to focus on the road, and you’re taking him back to Wayne, and all he really wants to do is sleep.

And you just drive, and hold Eddie’s hand as he clings to you, and this is good.

It’s good.

Little Eddie deserves the fucking world.

You think so.

And you know of a handful of people who would wholeheartedly agree.

Slowly, you think Eddie might start to understand where you’re coming from.

He was never okay and happy and fine.

Still isn’t okay and happy and fine.

But the light has been switched on.

There’s light now.

He might one day be okay and happy and fine, and that’s something that before today was the most difficult thing to grasp.

“We’re taking you home, kiddo. I got you.” Eddie whispers, soft enough so only he can hear it over the engine and the music coming from the radio.

“Let’s go home.”

---

The Taglisted

@almightywdm, @alwayslindie, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @dailyobsession

@eddies-puppet, @elvendria, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee

@ferfan14, @figmentofquinn, @gri959, @hazelenys, @joesquinns

@keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @kravitzwhore, @lovelyblueness, @loves0phelia

@mandyjo8719, @munsonluvrr, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles

@notverywise, @overthinking-raccoon, @pepperstories, @pinchofhoney, @readergf

@royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @shizlac, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson

@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @xxladymjxx, @yunirgo

Add yourself

[bibittybopittybadbxtch]

Chess Not Checkers

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Reader

Summary: You and Yunho have been sleeping together in secret for months. Both of you want more, who’s going to make the first move?

Warnings: 18+, Mature Content, Oral Sex (F receiving),

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: Hi hoes and hoochies (affectionately.) I once stole a yunho photocard right from under my best friend’s nose at an ateez concert. This is one of my favorite things I’ve written. Hope you enjoy!

XOXO, Bibi 🩷

P.S.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app. ALL WORK IS PURELY FICTIONAL. NOT MY GIF

P.P.S

Likes and reblogs welcome

Thanks For Reading ❤️

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You walked into the KQ Entertainment building, heels clicking down the halls as you made your way to your brother’s studio. Hongjoong was sitting at his computer when you arrived.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” he swiveled is his chair to look at his as you plopped down on the couch.

“I have about an hour before my lunch date, I came to kill time.” Which is true. You did have some spare time before meeting your best friend for lunch down the street, but the main reason for your visit had just walked into the room.

“Hi. Hi.” Yunho greets as he walks into the room. His gaze lingers on you for a second longer than it should before he turns to Hongjoong asking what the plan for the day was.

You can feel Yunho’s eyes on you the entire time he is recording. His eyes are burning a hole straight through you. You know he wants to ask why you’re dressed up and waiting in the studio. He is just waiting for the opportunity to present itself. After about 45 minutes of recording, Hongjoong gets a call and excuses himself to take it outside. Leaving you alone in the room with Yunho.

“So…what are you all dressed up for? We don’t have plans do we? I wouldn’t have forgotten that.” Yunho’s voice floods from the booth, pulling your attention from our phone. You look at him, a flicker of mischief in your eyes.

You walk over and press the talkback button.

“No we don’t. I have a lunch date in a few minutes.” It’s like you watched a switch flip in Yunho. His eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as he stared at you.

“I’m sorry. What?” Before you get a chance to respond your brother comes back in the room.

“Hey, that was my manager. There was an error in my schedule. I’m actually supposed to be filming a radio show in an hour. I have to go.” He rushes around the room gathering his things before he stops.

“Shit. Yunho, you need to finish today.”

You can see the vein start to pop in his forehead, which only happens when he’s overly stressed. Being the good sister you are you jump in.

“I can finish helping him record. I remember everything.” You’ve been Hongjoong’s shadow since he was still putting together songs in his childhood bedroom. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, “Thanks Sis! I owe you one.” Then he’s out the door, once again leaving you with Yunho.

You shift your gaze from the door to Yunho, who’s looking at you expectantly.

“What?” You say as you move to sit in your brother’s seat.

“You were explaining to me, how you think you’re going on a date.” Yunho moves to lean against the wall, never taking his eyes off of you.

“No..I know i’m going on a date. In about 15 minutes actually. We need to move this along.” You meet Yunho’s gaze and the jealousy on his face surprises you.

Yunho rests his head against the wall behind him, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he laughs. (author’s note: *insert gif*)

“If you think that I’m gonna let you walk out of this room to go entertain another man with a meal, you’ve lost your mind.”

Yunho pushes himself off the wall and takes off his headphones, before making his way out of the booth. He makes his way over to your chair before trapping you in the chair with his arms.

You look up at him and voice your confusion. “What are you talking about?”.

Yunho leans closer to your ear before he begins speaking again. “You’ve been mine since the moment I met you and you know it. I don’t just fuck anyone into the mattress like I do you.” Shocked by his brazenness you reach out and shove at his chest with flushed cheeks. It doesn’t sway him, but it did make you feel better.

“Yunho.” You lean back in the chair, trying to create space between the two of you.

“Are you being serious right now? You want to be together? Seriously?”

Yunho signs before moving to kneel in front of you. “Princess. I never say anything I don’t mean. But you seem to be a hands on learner. Let me try and change your mind about that date.”

Yunho places his hands on your knees and spreads your legs. He slides his hands up your skirt, long fingers brushing tenderly against your thighs as he reaches to pull down your underwear. Once he has them off, he brings them to his nose and inhales your scent deeply. He proceeds to tuck your favorite lace thong is his pocket. Winking at you when he catches you staring at him hungrily. Yunho spreads your legs further and takes a moment to admire the glistening mound between your legs. He leans in, pressing soft kisses along your thighs. He must’ve neglected to shave this morning because the slight stubble on his face is causing a delicious friction against your inner thighs. Yunho’s large hand reaches out and he hooks his index finger to swipe through your folds. He exposes your clit before diving in. He laps at your pussy like a man starved. Loud slurping noises bouncing off the room of your older brother’s studio. Yunho suckles your clit as he inserts two fingers into your eager hole. Yunho pumps his fingers in and out of you and he continues his assault on your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Above him you have your hands woven into his dark hair. Your hips are slowly grinding into his face, head tilted back in pure bliss. You’re trying to be quiet but the man at your feet is trying twice as hard to make sure you aren’t.

“Come on Baby, let me hear you.” His ego had taken a blow. Yunho needed to hear you cry out for him. His girl? On a date with someone else? Over his dead body.

“Yunho” You moan as he replaces his long slender fingers, with his tongue. The tip of his tongue brushes the soft spongy spot inside of you. He feels your body stiffen above him, and he knows he has you. An orgasm crashes over your body, and Yunho keeps his pace. Slurping at your juices until he’s satisfied. Yunho picks his heads up, eyes twinkling and your juices dripping from his chin. Once you catch your breath, he moves to stand up.

“So Princess..What do you say? Still wanna go on your little date” He stands back and watches as you adjust your clothes.

You chuckle as you shimmy your skirt back into place. “Yes, I will still be meeting Y/f/n for lunch. Even though you’ve put

me behind schedule.” Yunho looks at you puzzled.

“As in your best friend? Your female, best friend…” You can see the wheels in his head turning. Slowly you grab your purse and start making your way to the door. “Did you trick me into thinking you were going on a date to make me jealous?” Yunho laughs, he should’ve known. When you wanted something. You got it.

“You little minx” Yunho chuckles as he reaches to grab you. You quickly turn the door handle and run out of the room. As you get further down the hall you turn to see Yunho standing outside your brother’s studio smiling at you. “I’ll see you tonight.” You call as you continue to make you way down the hall. Yunho shakes his head as he makes his way back into Hongjoong’s studio. You sure will see him tonight, and maybe a glimpse of his wooden spoon for your sneaky scheming. He begins packing his things thinking he is done for the day since both you and your brother have now left, when he gets a text:

From: Shorty in Blue 💙

My studio better not smell like sex. I’ll kill you if you fucked my sister on my couch. I’ll be back up in 10 minutes so we can finish recording.

Of course Hongjoong knew. He should’ve known. His sneaky girl. You were definitely getting the spoon tonight.

THE END.

[sparkletastic-cookiedough]

Technus was aware that it was a risk.

Lady Gotham was powerful. Madness was in her blood, more so than most city spirits. She thrived in chaos and bloodlust, for they were a part of her. She had a fascination for suffering, with a book of ways to make a man scream too gruesome for even Ghost Writers library.

It should have made Gotham completely uninhabitable in the Mortal realm. The city streets would run with blood of anyone foolish enough to get close to Gotham’s territory.

But for all that Lady Gotham craved chaos and destruction, she also felt for the innocents of her streets. A homeless man could always find a dry corner somewhere near an abandoned building, even in the heaviest of storms. There were areas of the city where food wouldn’t go bad as quickly. The average man in Gotham was more resistant to poisons and could heal quickly from physical wounds. Children were smarter, more able to be independent at surprisingly young ages. Everyone aged slower.

Lady Gotham’s sympathy wasn’t all a good thing, though. She probably thought she was helping when she gave a young Pamela Isley a fragment of Undergrowth’s soul. The humans of Gotham were rather liminal thanks to Gotham’s blessings, making them more prone to obsessing over things, and sometimes very prone to physical violence. Perhaps without Lady Gotham intervening so much, the people of Gotham would have been better off. The other city spirits thought of Lady Gotham as a cautionary tale: don’t intervene too much in your peoples lives, or you’ll end up like Gotham.

The reason that most ghosts didn’t mess with Gotham was that she was territorial, especially over her heroes. She was a very powerful ghost.

Ghosts that messed with Batman would disappear. Whatever Lady Gotham did to them, which given her temperament probably wasn’t anything good, the ghosts wouldn’t turn up again.

Technus was willing to risk it though.

Despite how he and Phantom fought in the past, Technus developed a bit of a soft spot for the Protector of Amity Park. He had even taken to playing online video games with the teen ghost.

Yes, taking over the town of Amity Park would be nice, but Technus had come to realize that there was too much competition. Even if he did succeed, he’d have to defend his conquest from every other ghost.

That was far too much work. Technus had no idea how Danny managed it.

Technus still had plans for taking over parts of the world, of course, though he planned to do it through creating incredibly successful video games. It was a work in progress. Even as a technopathic ghost, creating a good video game took a lot of effort.

While Technus usually spent most of his time in the digital world nowadays, he still kept his eyes on the happenings of Amity Park. It certainly wouldn’t do for some of the most competent players to be ripped from the mortal realm. Danny and his technology friend, Technus didn’t remember his name, were certainly competent.

So it was only logical that when Danny Phantom had started getting in over his head, Technus would intervene.

It wasn’t just the powerhouses. Danny had beaten Vortex before, he could certainly do it again. No, the worrying ones were Plasmius or Spectra, where they interfered in his human life.

Danny was spread too thin. He needed help.

Technus was aware of Red Hood. Many ghosts were. A ghost that took up territory in Gotham? Such a thing was completely unheard of. Ghosts were intense gossips, so word of Red Hood spread quickly.

Sure, some ghosts adopted other ghosts, or created children. But for Lady Gotham to do it? It sounded absurd. Still, she was just as protective over Red Hood as she was over Batman.

Then there came rumors that Red Hood wasn’t entirely a ghost- he was a Halfa, like Danny. Or perhaps he was something different entirely. The point was that Red Hood was still at least somewhat living.

And, of course, there was the point that Red Hood was a hero. He enacted vengeance in a way that pleased the dead spirits of Gothams streets. He fought for his territory, yes, but also for justice and protection of the innocent.

He was like Danny.

So maybe Technus intervened so that Danny would contact Red Hood instead of his friend at a time when Danny would complain about some of his more annoying problems.

Maybe he risked Lady Gothams ire to do so. So what?

Danny needed help. What Lady Gotham thought about it wasn’t important to Technus.

He just hoped Lady Gotham wouldn’t vent her protective fury at Danny.

A Ghostly Text Mishap

Danny flopped onto his bed, phone in hand, glaring at the screen. Another long day of dealing with Vlad's manipulative nonsense had left him frustrated beyond belief. He opened his messages, found the contact labeled Trucker, and began furiously typing.

Danny: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time. The absolute NERVE of this guy. You’d think being half-dead would make someone LESS petty, but nooo, this man’s ego is bigger than the Ghost Zone.

Danny: He tried to "buy" my parents' company AGAIN. He offered to “help” with ghost containment tech but really just wants to snoop around for weaknesses in the portal.

Danny: AND he had the audacity to call me “Little Badger” like it’s a term of endearment. I swear, if I hear that ONE MORE TIME, I might go full ghost and dropkick him into the Fenton Thermos.

Satisfied with his venting, Danny tossed his phone onto the bed and buried his face in his pillow. Unbeknownst to him, he had made one critical mistake.

Jason Todd, aka Red Hood, was sitting in his safe house, polishing his guns when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen.

Unknown Number: You will NOT believe what Plasmius did this time…

Jason raised an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?” he muttered, scrolling through the tirade. By the time he got to “Little Badger”, he was smirking.

He typed back:

Jason: Kid, I think you’ve got the wrong number. Unless this “Plasmius” guy is a Gotham villain I’ve somehow missed.

Danny’s phone buzzed, and he rolled over to check it. His heart dropped when he saw the reply.

Danny: Oh no. This isn’t Trucker, is it?

Jason: Nope. But you’ve got my attention. Who’s Plasmius, and why does he sound like the type of guy I’d shoot on principle?

Danny hesitated, then decided to just roll with it.

Danny: Short version: he’s a half-ghost fruitloop billionaire who’s obsessed with ruining my life, becoming my creepy stepdad, and taking over the world. Think Lex Luthor but undead and ickier.

Jason burst out laughing, earning a curious glance from Roy Harper, who had just walked in.

“Who’s got you laughing like that?” Roy asked, setting down a bag of takeout.

“Some kid who texted me by mistake,” Jason replied, showing him the messages.

Roy skimmed them and snickered. “Plasmius? Sounds like a knockoff vampire villain.”

Jason’s fingers flew over the keyboard.

Jason: Okay, kid, you’ve officially got my interest. I don’t know who you are, but if this Plasmius guy’s half as bad as you say, I’ve got some creative ways to deal with him. You in Gotham?

Danny stared at the message, blinking. Who even was this guy? But... he did sound like he knew how to handle problems.

Danny: Uh, no. I’m from Amity Park. It’s kind of a supernatural hotspot, so I’ve got it covered. But thanks for the offer, I guess?

Jason smirked.

Jason: Supernatural hotspot? Kid, you’re talking to someone who’s been resurrected. Ghosts don’t scare me.

Danny froze. Resurrected? Oh no. This guy might actually know about the supernatural.

Danny: ...Wait, who ARE you?

Jason: Name’s Jason. Most people call me Red Hood. Ever heard of me?

Danny blinked, then groaned. “Of course. I text a vigilante. Just my luck.”

Danny: ...Yeah, I’ve heard of you. So, uh, thanks for not tracking this number and showing up at my house or something.

Jason: Yet.

Danny felt a shiver run down his spine.

Danny: That’s not funny, dude.

Jason: Relax, Little Badger. Your secret’s safe with me. For now. But hey, if you ever need help dealing with your undead billionaire problem, hit me up.

Danny sighed, shaking his head.

Danny: Sure. Thanks, I guess?

Jason leaned back, grinning as he saved the number under Ghost Kid.

“Roy, I think I just found the weirdest contact in my phone.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Roy replied, tossing Jason a burger.

“Not bad. Just… different.” Jason chuckled. “Plasmius, huh? Sounds like fun.”

[mylovesstuffs]

After Hours - Jeon Wonwoo

Synopsis: What begins as a quiet evening of work escalates once again into a heated encounter that blurs the lines with your coworker. Too used to this but will it ever be something more than a casual play?

Genre: Romance, erotica, office au, dominant/submissive, power dynamics, coworkers with benefits. little bit of angst if you squint and mutual pining

Pairing: Wonwoo × fem!reader

WC: 3.5k+

Warnings: Contains smut MDNI!, no protection mentioned (please be safe y'all), explicit sexual content, BDSM themes (power play, dominance/submissiveness), explicit language, non-consensual themes (light) not proofread

The office was empty, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of desk lamps scattered around the open floor. You sat at your desk, hunched over your MacBook, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried to meet a looming deadline.

"Still here?" The low voice startled you. You looked up to find Wonwoo standing near the doorway, his tie slightly loosened, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked impossibly good, his dark brown eyes met yours, and you felt that familiar twist in your stomach.

"Deadline," you muttered, gesturing vaguely at your screen, "What about you? Thought you'd left hours ago."

He shrugged, stepping closer until he leaned against the edge of your desk. "Couldn't leave knowing you were still here. Thought you might need company."

The way he looked at your face, you couldn’t help but think about it again—the thing you tried not to dwell on too much. Why him? Or rather, why you? Wonwoo was the kind of guy who could walk into a room and have people eating out of the palm of his hand without even trying. Women drooled; men envied. He could have anyone exclusively, probably someone more polished, more glamorous. Someone who didn’t forget their lunch at home three days a week or spend weekends rewatching the same Netflix shows.

So why this? Why you? Why do your occasional late-night encounters blurred the lines between colleagues and something...more? It didn’t make sense to you.

And yet, here you were.

At first, you’d kept it casual—just two adults scratching an itch. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t expect anything beyond the arrangement you had going on. But you weren’t stupid. You knew you’d fallen for him somewhere along the way. Maybe it was the way he kissed you, like he wasn’t just after the moment but after you. Or the way he remembered the smallest details—how you liked your coffee, the way you bit your lip when you were stressed. It wasn’t just sex, though that certainly didn’t hurt.

It was how he made you feel, like every inch of you was worth his time and attention. How he touched you like your body was something to be cherished, not just used. He was warm, attentive, and so damn caring in a way that was completely unexpected for someone who usually kept people at arm’s length.

And then there were the moments that caught you off guard—the way he’d adjust your blanket when you dozed off on the couch, or the time he brought you soup when you were too sick to function. Those were the moments that stayed with you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself this was just a casual thing.

But of course, you still had your doubts. You’d think, Why the hell does someone like him want anything to do with someone like me? Then he’d show up at your door with, kiss you like you were the only person in the world, and you’d think, Maybe I’m overthinking this.

You snorted softly to his response. "And what if I don't?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "Then I'll stay anyway."

There it was again—that warmth, that care. Whatever these coworkers with benefits thing was, whatever it meant, you weren’t sure you’d ever figure it out. But for now, you’d let yourself get lost in him just a little longer. The room felt smaller with him this close, his subtle cologne blending with the faint scent of coffee lingering from earlier. His gaze flicked to the papers scattered across your desk.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his voice dipping.

"I could say the same about you," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened when his fingers brushed yours as he picked up a pen.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. Wonwoo tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. "You should take a break," he said, he is quieter now.

"And do what?"

His answer came not in words but in action. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. Before you could react, his lips were on yours, soft and unhurried. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your waist, pulling you to your feet. The edge of the desk pressed against your thighs as he nudged you closer, his other hand tangling in your hair.

"Wonwoo," you breathed against his lips, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice rough with need.

His lips trailed down your jaw, to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You tilted your head, giving him access, a soft moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your skin.

"Here?" you asked, a mix of nerves and excitement in your voice.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk laced with mischief. "Here."

His hands found the hem of your blouse, slipping beneath to caress the bare skin of your waist and then your breasts over your bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, followed quickly by your skirt. His lips never left yours, his touch exploring, claiming.

Wonwoo lifted you onto the desk effortlessly, his own shirt discarded in the process. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat of his body as he settled between your thighs, his kisses growing more urgent.

When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, you couldn't stop the gasp that escaped you. His touch was firm yet teasing, drawing sounds from you that you didn't think you were capable of making.

"Wonwoo, please," you whimpered, your hands gripping his forearms as he worked you over with a precision that left you trembling.

You inhaled sharply as his fingers tugged at the lace, pausing to look into his eyes. He held your gaze, his eyes filled with an intent. As the lace slid down your thighs, he whispered, "Lift your legs." You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted as he asked, his voice low and commanding. "Arms up." You complied, arching your back slightly as he slowly removed the flimsy barrier between you. He tossed it aside, his eyes locked onto yours as he spread your legs wider.

Now that you're fully naked, he pulled you more closer, his eyes blazing that made you feel utterly exposed yet adored. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with reverence. His hands traced the curve of your nude waist and breasts, his gaze following every inch of your body as though committing it to memory. "So perfect... you don't even realize, do you?"

The room was filled with the sound of your shallow breaths as he hovered above you this time laying you down on the desk, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His lips trailed over your breasts to collarbone, hot and deliberate, as he whispered into your ear, "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, your words failing as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear. "That's right," he said, smirking against your skin. "I don't want a sound unless I ask for it. Understand?"

His hands slid lower to your vagina, teasing the edge of your patience, deliberately brushing but not giving you what you craved. Your whimper earned a dark chuckle. "Already desperate, are we?" His fingers grazed the most delicate part of the entrance, his touch featherlight feeling you're already being wet for him. "I don't think you've earned it yet"

His fingers trailed through your folds, gathering your wetness before circling your entrance again. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a whimper as he teased you. Suddenly, he thrust two fingers inside you, his palm pressing against your clit. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained with desire. You complied again.

His fingers moved skillfully, hitting just your clit back and forth. Your breath hitched, eyes hazy with pleasure. "Wonwoo..." you gasped trying to not make a sound, fingers digging into his shoulders for support.

He pressed closer, his lips tracing your neck while maintaining that steady rhythm. "What do you need?" as he cups one of your breasts. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, his breathing becoming more ragged "Tell me what you want," he groaned softly against your neck, teeth grazing your skin "Do you want me to..." his fingers curved deeper, hitting just the G-spot "Should I keep going?"

"Yes, please," you managed to respond.

"You want me to actually fuck you now?" He asked, voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers continued their relentless pace, driving you closer to the edge. He nipped at your earlobe, pinched your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass. You nodded.

But he didn't give you what you wanted yet. He edged you mercilessly, his movements calculated to pull you to the brink, only to deny you the release you desperately sought.

"That's it, take it," he murmured, his tone shifting. "Pathetic how you fall apart so easily under my hands. You love this, don't you?" Your body trembled beneath him as he leaned closer, "Say it," he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

The office faded away-the desk, the papers, the deadlines. There was only Wonwoo, his breath hot against your skin, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he said, his touch finally intensifying, sending shockwaves through your body. "And you'll come when I let you, not a second before." Just as he said that, his name left your lips in a broken moan as he finally pushed you over the edge, your release shattering you as he held you firmly in place.

He glared down at you, his fingers still buried inside, trembling your pussy. "You fucking disobedient little cunt," he spat, his voice cold with anger. "I told you not to come until I said so, and you just couldn't fucking wait, could you?" Wonwoo's hand tightened on your thigh, keeping you pinned on the desk as he leaned in closer. "You think you can just take what you want without earning it?" he growled, his fingers curling inside you, making your legs tremble anew.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, leaving you feeling empty as a punishment. His hand moved to grip your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes met his. "If you want to be treated like a good girl, you better start acting like one," he hissed, his gaze cold but laced with the faintest hint of hunger.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he leaned back, undoing his belt with maddening slowness. "I should leave you like this," he mused, dragging the leather through the loops. "Desperate, dripping, and begging for me. But I'm not that cruel."

He kicked a nearby chair back and sat down, gesturing with two fingers for you to kneel in front of him. "Now, get down here and make it up to me," he commanded, his voice calm but brooking no argument. "If you're good enough, maybe I'll consider giving you what you so clearly can't stop thinking about."

You swallowed hard, your body trembling as you slid off to the floor and sank to your knees in front of him. His eyes followed your every movement, dominating you.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back, spreading his legs wider. "Show me just how sorry you are."

Your hands moved to his pant, and with a shaky exhale, you pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock. No matter how many more times you've seen his hard cock before, the sight made your cheeks flush, but you were too far gone to feel embarrassment.

Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you glanced up through your lashes for approval. He nodded, his hand resting lazily on the arm of the chair. "Don't tease," he warned.

You leaned forward, your lips parting as you took his dick into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip. A low groan escaped him, his hips shifting slightly as he buried a hand in your hair, guiding your movements.

"Good girl," he muttered, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who was still in control. "Now, don't stop until I say so."

You obeyed, your pace steady and deliberate, taking him deeper with each motion. His groans grew louder, his control slipping as you worked him over with desperation. Suddenly, he tugged on your hair, pulling you off of him. You gasped, your lips swollen and glistening as you looked up at him, confused and needy.

"Not so fast," he said with lust. "You don't get to decide when this ends. Get back on the desk."

You scrambled to obey, your body trembling as you climbed back onto the desk and laid back, spreading your legs for him. His smirk returned as he stood, positioning himself between your thighs.

"Now, you'll learn to follow my rules," he growled, gripping your hips as he thrust into you without warning, his movements rough and demanding.

The desk creaked beneath you, your cries filling the room as he took you with relentless precision. He leaned over you, groping your breasts hard, "Shut the fuck up," he growled, his hand tangling in your hair as he drove you closer to the edge.

Your fingernails dragged down his back as you arched into him, whimpering, "You feel so... good," you managed to gasp out, legs wrapping tighter around him, urging him deeper.

"You're just a fucking tight little cunt, aren't you?" He spat, his voice dripping with contempt as he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream. "You love being stuffed full of my dick, don't you? You love being used like a cheap fucktoy."

When he finally let you come, his name tore from your lips like a prayer, your body trembling beneath him. He followed moments later, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep inside, groaning your name. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice breaking as he reached his own release, his forehead pressed against yours.

And for the first time that night, you forgot about work.

You'd always known Wonwoo was reserved, composed. But just like tonight, every other night— he'd always show you a side of him others would've never seen before, a side that made you wonder what other surprises he was hiding.

Afterward, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing softly against your temple. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice gentle now. "But don't think I'll let you off so easily next time."

He held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as your breathing slowed, the tension between you was replaced by a comfortable warmth.

As the haze of passion began to fade, a soft silence settled between you. Wonwoo cradled you against his chest, one hand brushing through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart against your ear lulled you into a nice sense of peace.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble that reverberated through you.

You nodded, nuzzling into him. "Yeah. Just... tired.

His lips pressed against the crown of your head in an affectionate kiss. "I figured. I didn't even go that hard on you"

You just rolled your eyes, too happy to shot bak. He shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms despite your half-hearted protests. "Wonwoo, I can walk!"

"Shh,his tone leaving no room for argument. "You've done enough for today. Let me take care of you."

He carried you to the small couch in the corner of the office, sitting you down carefully before draping his discarded shirt over your shoulders. His fingers worked deftly to smooth your hair, his touch tender in a way that made your chest ache. "You rest for a bit," he said, crouching in front of you. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "I'll clean up."

Before you could protest again, he stood and began gathering your scattered clothes, folding them neatly on the desk. He retrieved a bottle of water from a nearby mini-fridge, twisting the cap off before handing it to you.

"Drink," he commanded gently.

You complied, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Watching him move around the room with such quiet efficiency sent a wave of warmth through you. It was a side of him you always saw-nurturing, attentive, and deeply considerate.

Once everything was tidied up, Wonwoo returned to your side, his hands sliding beneath your knees and shoulders. You squeaked in surprise as he lifted you again.

"Wonwoo!"

"You need to clean up properly," he said simply, carrying you to the small restroom attached to the office.

He set you down carefully on the counter, his hands lingering at your waist as if to steady you. Grabbing a clean towel from the cabinet, he wet it under the tap and began gently wiping your face, neck and thighs. His touch was uncharacteristically soft, his movements precise as he took care to ensure your comfort.

"Thank you," you whispered, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

He smiled faintly, something unspoken passing between you. "You don't have to thank me. Just...stop overworking yourself, okay?"

You nodded, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at your heartstrings.

Once you were clean and dressed again, Wonwoo slipped his blazer around your shoulders. "Let's get you home," he said.

The drive was quiet, the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires gliding over the wet pavement filling the silence between you and Wonwoo. His blazer felt warm and comforting around your shoulders, carrying a faint scent of his cologne-woodsy, with a hint of spice. You found yourself fiddling with the edge of the sleeve absentmindedly, stealing occasional glances at him.

Wonwoo's hands rested firmly on the steering wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline and the faint crease of concentration on his brow. You wanted to say everything you guys have done so far, but the words seemed to catch in your throat.

"You okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence without taking his eyes off the road.

You nodded, then realized he couldn't see you. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just the fact that you care even though we're not...exclusive."

He glanced at you briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile. "I just did what anyone would do."

"No," you said firmly, shifting slightly in your seat to face him. "Not everyone would've. And definitely not the way you did" You stopped for a brief second and then continued, "Nobody would check up on me after meetings, dump all their deadlines on me, and leave me alone after having sex."

He didn't respond immediately but his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a fraction, as if your words had unsettled something within him. After a moment, he sighed quietly. "I couldn't just leave you there."

The weight in his voice surprised you. It made you wonder what he was thinking, what he wasn't saying. You wanted to press further, to ask why he cared so much, but the vulnerability in his tone held you back.

"Thank you, Wonwoo," you said again, more softly this time.

He glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than before, as if searching for something in your expression. "You don't need to thank me."

The rest of the drive passed in a companionable silence. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, he turned off the engine and stepped out before you could object. Rounding the car, he opened your door and offered you a hand.

"Can you make it upstairs on your own?" he asked. You hesitated, then nodded.

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "Alright. But call me if you need anything. I mean it."

You nodded again, clutching his blazer tightly around you. "I will."

As you turned to go, he called out softly, "Wait."

You paused, glancing back at him. He took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop you, but he quickly pulled it back. "Don't forget the blazer," he said instead, his voice lighter, almost teasing.

You smiled faintly, slipping it off your shoulders and holding it out to him. "Thanks again, Wonwoo."

He accepted it with a small nod, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you echoed, stepping inside the building. As the elevator doors closed, you found a text.

Let's stop playing around—just us?