#I'm barely here for it/I have to life with it

[wileys-russo]

don't look back II l.williamson

don't look back II l.williamson

your body clock putting in a shift lately you weren't surprised to see it was hours later than you thought you'd be up, leah of course still very much dead asleep beside you, back turned and you could see her shoulders rising and falling a little the only sign of life.

you turned and attached your body to the defenders, slotting your leg in between hers and placing a tender kiss to her bare shoulder blade, the blonde not even stirring as you called her name softly a few times.

when a gentle approach didn't work, leah's eyes still shut and not even a grunt sounding, you sat up and shook her a few times, a tired exhale and some mumbled gibberish in response.

"lee, baby come on, wakey wakey." you cooed, poking at her cheek as the older girl scrunched her nose and grumbled something, pushing your hand away and scooting across the bed right to the very edge, clearly trying to move away from you making you scoff.

"leah how often do we both have the whole day off? it's like midday, we're running out of sun. please get up!" you groaned, shoving your girlfriends limp body as she sighed heavily, once again pushing your hands away.

"cmon don't be a pest babe, just let me sleep for a couple more minutes." the blonde mumbled tiredly, arms snaking around her pillow as she pulled it closer, eyes not even flickering open.

"you can sleep when you're dead leah. come on lets go for breakfast, coffee on me?" you scooted over from your side of the bed and ducked down to kiss her cheek a few times, getting nothing but silence in return.

"leah catherine!" with a huff you grabbed the extra pillow from the floor, sitting up and repeatedly whacking the older girl in an attempt to get her to stir.

you knew she'd been out late with the team last night after a big win, but mid season it was rare she'd drink enough to have this bad of a hangover, though you also couldn't quite remember what time it was she even joined you in bed.

"you're so annoying man. just fuck off and let me sleep if you can't lay here with me!" the defender snapped harshly, finally opening her eyes and snatching the pillow off you, hauling it to the other side of the room and turning onto her stomach with a grun.

"seriously? you're in this much of a mood? what did you do drink the bar dry last night?" you scoffed, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes down at her, rolling them at the singular middle finger which popped out in response to your question.

"m'not hungover, m'tired."

"leah you haven't even let me sleep in the same bed as you without a pillow wall for the last couple of weeks. i'm gone of a morning when you get up and you're gone of an afternoon when i get home. we both have the day off, and isn't the point of a relationship that you want to actually spend quality time together occasionally?" you accused, glaring down at her where her eyes remained firmly shut.

"need i remind you love the pillow fort is because we made a pact no more sex till the end of the season because it tires me out. and cause you've been on a weird sleep schedule with switching out from working nights. if you get in here with me and even so much as touch my thigh, one of us will crack and then it's no stopping from there, its a few more weeks babe you'll live." leah sighed, arm extending out and smacking around blindly until she found your leg, giving it a little squeeze in what she likely assumed was supportive, but really you were more than a little hurt by her blunt honesty.

"right. so I'm basically only here to fulfill your needs when you're horny, run to and from collecting your shit when you leave it laying around and can't find what you need, cook your meals, do your laundry and clean the place up when you trash it because you can't keep it tidy enough to find anything?" you started in disbelief.

"so basically i'm a glorified maid? yeah perfect enjoy your sleep in leah, maybe i can find someone else to give me a kiss every now and then, wish me good morning and grab a coffee with me like i'm not some chore." you spat, swinging out of bed and making a beeline for the door as your girlfriend hurried to sit up.

"no no hey babe wait you know that's not what i meant-" the girl started with a sigh, running a hand through her hair and pausing for a moment, blinking with a wince as her eyes adjusted making yours roll.

"actually no you know what? i don't need to explain myself you know i love you and just because i want a lie in on my day off doesn't mean i don't. stop being so sensitive!" the defender blew it off, flopping back down and turning her back to you.

even further in disbelief at how little this seemed to bother her and that she'd seem to only hear half of what you were saying your mouth was open and ready to really let her have it, all the two of you seemed to be doing together lately was to argue anyway.

but not bothered for the sharp tongued comeback which leah wouldn't mean but would no doubt hurt your feelings even more you decided to leave it.

pulling on a pair of jeans and a hoodie, grabbing the first shoes in reach you left, making sure to slam the door behind you to really send a message.

the winter chill settling in you looked back at the front door, contemplating going back for a jacket or a vest of some kind but with a sigh you decided against it and ran a hand through your rather disheveled hair.

really the only person first and foremost you wanted to talk to right now was leah, and when you'd first started seeing one another it seemed that all the pair of you did was talk.

for hours and hours you covered every topic big and small, you'd often even fall asleep on the phone together, playful teasing following the next day about whose fault it was you were both so exhausted after staying up much later than needed.

you were a paramedic so you were much more well adjusted to a lack of sleep than leah, in fact you weren't sure if leah actually could survive without eight hours a day, well warned by the blonde herself that she was not a morning person and incredibly grumpy.

though you seemed to be the exception to that, leah waking up purposefully early to meet you after your night shift for breakfast, bringing you flowers and showering you with compliments that had your ears turning red and her face painted with a victorious grin at the sight.

you'd always heard of the 'spark' of a relationship dimming, especially from older married coworkers who complained about a lack of romance and spontaneity, feeding this back to leah who would always reassure you with a soft kiss that only happened to 'boring old people'.

yet here you were drowning in the same reality your girlfriend had always gone above and beyond to assure you would never be so, quelling your fears and anxieties with her undivided attention and unconditional love as much as she could spare it.

sometimes you'd think back toward the first year of dating leah and your chest would hurt, all of the romance and the dates and the late nights and the flowers, and you found yourself wanting to scream for taking it all for granted.

nowadays it seemed you and leah were no longer dating, merely...co-existing perhaps? you couldn't quite pinpoint when the 'spark' had begun to dim but what was once a fully lit bonfire was now barely a smoldering ember and the worst part of it was how blind leah was to that even happening.

so though you craved your girlfriend, there was really only one person you felt like going to talk to now.

~

"so you're hanging out with me on a day off." your best friend commented as she sipped at her coffee seemingly amused.

"meaning?" you raised an eyebrow curiously, the blonde smiling with a small shrug. "i love you, but i am not normally your first call for a friday coffee anymore." alessia chuckled as you flushed pink with embarrassment.

"hey i'm just joking, unclench." the striker teased, kicking you under the table seeing the apology about to be hurled her way and the obvious worry in your eyes that she was actually upset.

"i've had years of coffee's with you, you know i've quite enjoyed the break really." the blonde hummed as you now kicked her and rolled your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips.

"so not that i don't like seeing you, but i'm guessing there's a reason you called? you don't seem yourself." alessia guessed, tone softening and laced with concern as you sighed heavily. "oh its that bad? right come on then." the girl stood, nodding for you to follow her into the living room.

you wasted no time leaving your coffee on the side table and flopping down on the couch you'd slept on a few times now after other arguments with leah, though back then they'd usually blow over by the morning where she'd pick you up with flowers in the front seat and a hundred texts apologising.

but lately your arguments had been different, more personal, more hurtful, you knew one another like the back of your hand and as beautiful a connection that could be, it also meant that leah knew every little insecurity and doubt to pick at in order to hit you where it really mattered.

"okay. let it out!" alessia made herself comfortable in the armchair she'd dragged to sit across from you, legs crossed and somewhat resembling a therapist as you laid down on the couch and exhaled, taking a pause before word vomiting what you'd been holding in for weeks now.

"-and now its like she doesn't even care if i'm there or not, so why am i even there?" you finished, throwing your hands up as the room fell silent and alessia seemed to take a moment to process everything.

"oh my god she's your captain and your team mate and your friend less shit this wasn't appropriate!" you had a sudden realization as you sat up panicked and the blonde hurried to sit down next to you.

"hey hey no, it's fine, breathe." alessia inhaled and exhaled deeply as you copied her, nodding once you'd managed to slow your heart rate a little.

"yes leah is all of those things, but you've been my best friend since you cried at the school gate on the first day of school and my mum made me come over and ask if you were okay." alessia teased as you groaned and covered your face with a pillow.

"less that is not how it happened!" "that is absolutely how it happened."

"but meaning, leah is also my best friends girlfriend, and besides who was it that introduced the two of you anyway?" alessia reminded as you exhaled and she yanked the throw pillow from your grip, tossing it to the floor.

"i love leah yes, but the way she's treating you isn't okay. you're way more than just something warm she comes home to or someone who pairs up her socks and does her laundry." alessia squeezed your knee as you puffed out air in an attempt at a chuckle.

"she really is terrible at keeping her socks in pairs."

"you're also the girl in the stands she looks at every time we do the post game lap, and who makes her smile at her phone like an idiot, who she is always proudly boasting about and why she lies about needing to leave training ten minutes early so she can pick you up food before you get home from work." alessia smiled sadly which you returned, sighing when you realized you couldn't actually remember the last time those things had happened.

"but, i really think you need to tell her all of this though. i love you but you do sometimes think people can read your mind and know how you're feeling without you expressing it in the slightest." alessia poked your forehead as you huffed.

"thats not to excuse how she's been acting, but i think she needs the wake up call of hearing from you how she's been acting is actually making you feel." alessia promised as you nodded, the blonde pulling you in for a hug as you sighed and rested your head on her shoulder.

"i love you less." "i love you too, even if my mum forced me to be your friend." "that is not how it happened!"

~

pulling into the driveway you cut your car off and took a moment to collect your thoughts, having been driving around rehearsing what you wanted to say for awhile now until you'd charged up the courage to go through with it.

letting yourself inside you were surprised to see leah had actually moved from the bed, head turning to look at you from where she was sat on the lounge watching something, draped in a vintage arsenal tracksuit.

"you're back! babe where'd you go? i texted you, no reply." the blonde shook her phone at you, clearly having paid no mind to the argument you'd had this morning or else her first words may have been an apology, but you on the other hand weren't letting it go that easily.

"oh sorry i went to go and learn how not to be so sensitive." you pouted sarcastically as her once happy expression dropped, but you ignored it and walked off to the bathroom.

"christ i look a mess." you mumbled, wincing at the bags under your eyes and looking around for your brush to pull through your semi knotted hair.

"hey love come on don't be like this, i didn't mean what i said." leah rasped, arms encircling your waist from behind and resting her forehead against your back with a hum. "you know how i am in the mornings. how about we go for lunch yeah?" leah suggested as you rummaged through the vanity cupboard.

"fuck off leah." you muttered, pulling her arms off of you and finally grabbing your hairbrush, trying to walk off but her hand grabbed your wrist tugging you back toward her.

"babe i'm really sorry, you know i love you more than anything." the defender husked quietly, grabbing your other hand and interlacing your fingers, bringing your palm to her mouth with a kiss and a soft smile that normally would melt you like butter.

but today, all it did was make you angry.

"of course you do. i do whatever you want, whenever you want it. we fuck when it suits you, i go to your games, go out with your friends, come home from working a twelve hour shift and do your washing so you have a clean uniform for training." you wrenched your hands from hers and poked at her chest with every accusation.

"but when i want to actually spend a night sleeping with my girlfriend and have her touch me in a way thats filled with love and not just lust. thats not okay because you're like some horny teenage cretin who gets a metaphorical boner when i touch your thigh? we're both in our twenties and sleeping with a pillow wall between us, do you know how ridiculous that sounds leah?" you laughed but it was one of desperation and panic, not a drop of humor to be found.

"so i'm here for what? moral support? to look at? to play with when you're bored?" you questioned rhetorically, shaking your head and throwing your brush to the floor, making a beeline for the bedroom as you heard her scoff behind you.

"i am trying to make up for this morning and trying to show you that you're so much more to me and you won't even look me in the eye. if you don't want an apology then what the fuck do you want?" leah called out, tugging at her hair in frustration as you paused.

"what do i want? how about my girlfriend back i'd fucking love that leah, because whoever this is-" you spun around and paused to gesture at her. "-sure as shit isn't my girlfriend, or at least the one i remember falling head over heels in love with." your tone dropped in those last few words, pausing to squeeze your eyes shut and take a breath.

"baby i'm still here. i'm still me. i'm still your girlfriend and last time I checked you were still mine." leah replied with an air of confidence that made your stomach drop, really solidifying for you that she may have been listening to you but she wasn't hearing you.

"really? because last time i checked when you have a girlfriend you go on dates with them, you make time for them and you actually enjoy that time with them." you shook your head and threw your hands up.

"and you hold their hand, and you talk to them about anything and everything because you want to. you kiss them out of love and not obligation, you say good morning and goodnight and when you lay in bed with them you can hold one another without it turning into sex. and when it does turn into sex it's supposed to be filled with intimacy not just a quick fuck with no feelings attached and where you ignore the person afterwards and put up a pathetic pillow wall leah!" you spat, wiping a single angry tear that escaped.

"and if you can't see that lately you haven't been acting like my friend let alone my girlfriend, then maybe I should go stay with my parents and wait for whenever my girlfriend comes back, because I miss her leah." you finished as your voice cracked and your chest heaved with shallow breaths, waiting for her to say something, anything.

but when the silence became suffocating you shook your head and made your way to the front door. throwing it open you gave one last look back and could see the blonde begging you to stay with her eyes.

but you didn't want a look, you wanted words. words you knew she'd say after you were gone, words she thought you wanted to hear and that would get you to return to her but wouldn't contain any actual substance.

words that would come through voicemails and text messages and that would kill you to ignore, but if she wasn't hearing you through words, maybe silence was the only way to get through to her.

"i'll come back for some of my stuff later, goodbye leah." you muttered dejectedly, forcing your eyes away and stepping outside.

you paused to take a breath before wrapping your arms around yourself, giving the comfort and hug you'd been after from the blonde behind you for far too long now.

maybe your girlfriend would come back to you, or maybe she wouldn't.

[daydreams-after-dark]

Free Use Jail Cell, Extra

Dinner date with Minho

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 (final) | extra: Police Reports | Dinner date with Minho

Police Officer Skz ot8 x female reader

Premise: A continuation of the free use jail cell series.

Word Count: this installment 4.3k approx.

Chapter Summary: You are free from the ot8 free use jail, Minho helps you out and then asks you over for dinner.

CW below the cut.

This is also in response to this ask here.

CW: masturbation with sex toys, video sex, spanking, vaginal penetration with an object, oral sex (m rec), vaginal sex (unprotected), restraints, stretch kink (because I'm obsessed).

After he’s finished kissing you and watching you drive away, Minho heads back into the police station. He feels giddy, like a school boy who’s just had his first kiss. It's a feeling he hasn’t felt in a long time and he is both excited and fearful of it. Usually, when things start off this good, they inevitably end in disaster. But you know what he’s like when it comes to sex, and you weren’t scared off. That’s one fundamental difference from his past partners.

“Why the fuck are you smirking like that?” Says Jeongin looking up from his seat in the Chief’s office. 

Everyone is sitting around the coffee table as Chan had gathered everyone for a meeting before going home.

“Not sure what you’re talking about?” Minho grunts, taking a seat next to Jisung, and trying to act like he didn’t just have the most delicious kiss of his life.

 Chan looks at him suspiciously.

“Yeah, you’ve been a little weird ever since you and Seungmin ‘interrogated’ her.” Hyunjin adds.

“Yeah, man. And what was that back in the gang bang?” Changbin joins in.

“The fuck you talking about?” Growls Minho.

“Gees, someone’s sensitive.” Hyunjin mumbles.

“I’m talking about how soft you were with her. You barely said a fucking word, then you fucked her so… so gently. That wasn’t in her request list.” Changbin replies.

Everyone turns to MInho and he feels the cogs in their heads turning. 

“Well, Minho is good at picking up what people need, especially without them saying anything.” Offers Felix.

“That’s right.” Reiterates Chan sternly, staring directly at Minho.

Minho shifts awkwardly in his seat, feeling caught out.

“Fine. I just think he was a little too soft, that's all.” Changbin grumbles, settling back into his seat.

“Okay, boys.” Chan claps, signaling it’s time to move on. “I know we’ve only just finished our contract with Y/n, but I wanted to take the opportunity to discuss our next client and their requests.” 

But Minho is barely listening. His mind keeps going back to you. Back to the way your lips felt against his own. The way your tongue sought his. The way you hooked a leg over his arm, seeking friction against your sweet little pussy. Fuck. Focus.

“So we have several women requesting two of us at once, and a couple are just after one. I thought we could divvy up the contracts and conduct them over the same few days.”

Everyone nods in agreement. It makes sense, that way if another client seeks five or six of them then they will have availability. 

“Okay. The first is a request for two doctors. I think Seungmin and Jeongin would be good for that, yes?” He looks up at the pair and they both nod. Neither of them are new to that role. “Then a request for a fae themed scenario. I’m thinking we could use that cabin in the woods, the one we used for the kidnapping one, yeah? Felix, I think you’d be perfect.”

”No worries. I’ll get the place ready, and I’m pretty sure I saw the perfect costume online.” He makes a note on his phone to follow up.

“Good, make sure it can be sent express post. Um, a vampire request. Hyunjin?” he looks up at him and Hyunjin nods in acceptance. 

“Then there’s this one I quote ‘threesome where one guy is in me and another guy in him.’”

“Ooo ooo me!” Jisung raises his hand enthusiastically, almost jumping out of his seat.

“Alright, Jisung. Who else is happy to assist?”

Jisung turns to Minho. “Please, hyung!!! Be my partner!” He bats his eyelids at him.

“Fine.” Minho rolls his eyes. Actually he is secretly glad he does’t have to directly fuck another woman so soon after you.

“Yes!” Jisung fist pumps the air.

“Lastly, a personal trainer fantasy. Bin, you and I can take that one. Okay, everyone will receive emails with the full details, so make sure you read them thoroughly, and converse with your partner if you have one. Good job, boys. Enjoy your time off, and see you soon.”

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I wonder if she likes cats? Minho is still thinking about you when he lets himself into his apartment and is greeted by his fur baby. “Hey, Soonie,” he says, squatting down and patting his cat. “You miss me, huh? It’s okay, Daddy’s home now.” 

He potters around his apartment, putting on a load of clothes washing, vacuuming, and then cooking himself a meal. All while trying not to look at his phone where he now has your phone number he stole from your file. 

At some point while he’s cooking, he finds his phone in his hand and is staring at the number.

Is it too soon to call you? Of course it is. What kind of desperate fool are you?

He sighs and locks his phone, setting it back on the countertop and resumes stirring his pot of sauce. Maybe he could ask you over for a meal? His eyes drift back to his phone. Stop. No. Fuck. You are driving him crazy. He shuts his phone away in a kitchen drawer and goes to eat his dinner.

After successfully ignoring the strong pull coming from the kitchen drawer, Minho takes a shower, rubs one out to the thought of you on the interrogation table, then settles down on his couch to open his laptop.

He sighs and rubs his eyes, willing himself to focus, while Soonie decides it's the perfect time for pats. “What a cute little pussy, hmm.” Minho coos as it tries to climb onto his laptop as he reads the notes for his upcoming threesome. But it’s not long until his eyes drift towards his kitchen, to where his phone is still sitting in the drawer.

“Fuck it”. He says, sliding out from under his cat. He can’t think of anything else but messaging or calling you. He can’t focus on this next assignment. Fuck, he could barely think about his dinner without his mind drifting off to wondering how your sweet cunt would taste.

He doesn’t care if he looks desperate. Fuck, he is desperate. He opens the drawer and pulls out his phone, and after taking a deep, grounding breath, he dials your number.

>>>>>>>>>>>>

‘Resisted arrest. Force required to detain the suspect. However, once handcuffed she was extremely enthusiastic to obey. Her mouth was very skilled and cunt was cooperative.’ - Changbin

‘I will be keeping an eye on her to ensure she is arrested and questioned for any criminal activity she becomes involved in.’ - Minho

‘The suspect was easily coerced into double penetration, climaxing multiple times. She was displeased when we removed our penises from her to restrain her to the ceiling chains, but settled once we were back inside her.

The suspect is the most responsive we have encountered so far, and is definitely a favorite.’ - Hyunjin

‘How we ended up with the prettiest suspect in the world I will never know! Her pussy is the most perfect I have ever felt. So tight, warm and soaking wet.’ Han

‘CONCERNS: Detective Lee Minho.’ - Chan

“Fucking hell.” You whistle low, closing the police report. “Chief Chan is concerned with Minho?” you mumble to yourself. Was he not acting his usual self with you? Did the Chi-, Chan, know about the kiss?

You have done absolutely nothing since arriving home from the police station several hours ago. Except for looking through your file and reliving all those beautiful cocks that filled you up perfectly. You’re still buzzing from the entire experience, and you’re not quite ready to come back to reality. 

You flick to the photos Felix took of you. He was right, they are beautiful. Erotic even. You bite your lip as your eyes run over your bruises, bites marks, and injuries. You feel a pulsing sensation in your core. You need to touch yourself. Already? You say to your pussy, looking down in disbelief.

You gather all the items you need - a vibrating anal plug, lube, and your thickest dildo, and climb into bed. You moan when you press a lubed finger to your ass. As usual, it doesn’t take long until you’ve slipped a finger inside, preparing yourself to take the plug. Once you deem yourself ready, you push the plug inside and turn on the vibrator. Your breath quickens as the stretch, fullness and vibrations combined begin to send you feral.

You play with your clit. Rough, fast motions, all while your mind visualizes the photographs Felix took. You’re going to come hard and fast, but you want to prolong it. You slow your fingers right down to rubbing lazy circles on your clit, allowing your body to calm down.

You reach for the dildo and drench it in lube. Not that you need it, your pussy is absolutely dripping in arousal. You open your legs wider and push the dildo deep into your vagina. You cry out at the intrusion, your walls barely having time to adjust before you’re pulling it out and ramming it back inside you. Again, harder. You whimper from the pleasure-pain. You reach behind you and increase the speed of the anal vibrator, then you start to tug on it, stretching your anus slightly.

“Fuck!” You moan, feeling yourself about to climax. “Close. So fucking close.” You babble to yourself. You’re almost there. The point of no return. Your body tenses, your legs shake.

Your phone rings.

Your eyes shoot open and you grab your phone. Minho! A video call? Fuck. You scramble to sit up, fix your hair, and forgetting you are naked, you answer the phone.

Minho’s eyes almost pop out of his head, but he recovers quickly. “Nice tits, kitten.” He smirks.

Your arm quickly comes to cover yourself. 

“Hey, it’s not like I haven’t seen absolutely everything.” He teases. “Anyway, I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time - actually, what are you doing? You’re all flushed.” His eyes narrow.

“Nothing!” You squeak. 

“I don’t believe you.” he quips.

“Okay, fine I was masturbating.” You roll your eyes.

“Really? Already? Aren’t you sore?” 

“Nope. I'm fine.”

“Show me.”

“What?” You say shocked.

“I said show me.” He repeats seriously.

Nervously, You position the camera so he can see how wet you are.

“Fuck! You’ve got a plug in. Have you come yet?” He says in disbelief.

“Nope. Was almost there when you called. It’s like you knew.” You pouted.

“Oh kitten. Fuck. Such a good girl waiting for me before coming. Or is it you can’t come without me, hmm?”

“S’hard to come without someone watching.” You sulk, playing along.

“Fuck! Lucky I called. Go on. Play with yourself.”

You start to rub your clit again. Every so often you dip your fingers inside you to gather some wetness then bring it up to your clit.

“Have you got something you can fuck yourself with?” Minho says in a deep voice. 

You reach for your thick dildo and resume fucking yourself like you were doing earlier.

“Deeper. Wanna see you take it deeper.” Minho instructs. 

You want to obey, be a good girl for him, so you push the dildo in further so it hits your cervix on every thrust. “Need to come, Minho. Need to come.” You cry, thrusting into yourself frantically. “S’close..”

“I can hear how wet you are, kitten. That’s it, rub your clit. Good girl. I want you to imagine that’s me inside you.”

“Oh, God. Oh, fuck!” You whimper. “Let me come.”

“Scream for me, y/n.”

You explode into a million pieces, screaming, just as Minho demanded. Your body shakes for what feels like an eternity as waves upon waves of pleasure wash over you.

Eventually, you collapse on your mattress in exhaustion, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try and catch your breath.

“Fuck. You alright?” Minho laughs softly.

“No.” You choke. “So intense.”

“Well, glad I got to see that. Luckily I called when I did.”

“Why did you call?” You pick up your phone so you can look at him.

He runs his hands through his hair. “Oh yeah. So, um, the reason I actually called was to see if you maybe wanted to come over for dinner one night?”

You’re taken by surprise. Minho wants to have dinner with you?

“I mean, it’s okay if you don’t. It’s probably not wh-”

“I’d love to.” You smile.

“Yeah?” He says in disbelief.

“Yeah.”

>>>>>>

“This looks delicious, Minho. You have lots of skills it seems.” You say grinning at the plate of pasta and bolognese in front of you. Your eyes almost roll back into your head when you take a bite. “Oh my god. This is fucking amazing!” you say with a mouthful of food. “Did you make the pasta from scratch?”

Minho smiles triumphantly. “Yes. The sauce too. Glad you like it.”

“It’s delicious.”  You grin and try your best to not scoff the entire plate down in one mouthful. 

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says gazing at you. You feel a heat flush over you. You aren’t particularly dressed up, opting for a nice top and denim shorts. You hoped it would be suitable enough for the occasion.

“Thank you. I think it’s the first time you’ve seen me in clothing?” You laugh. “You look good too.” You notice his cheeks flush a little.

“So,” You put your fork down. “How is it you came to be in your…um…profession?” You ask curiously.

Minho sits back in his chair, and pauses in thought. “Well, Chan started the business with Jisung - Han - and Changbin. Business grew quicker than they expected and so they needed to hire more staff.”

“Interesting. But what made you join?” You lean your elbows on the table, resting your chin in your hands. You’re curious to know more.

“Hmm. I suppose I thought it would make life easier, sexually speaking. It’s hard to find a partner that wants both a sex life like mine and also a sickly sweet romantic dynamic. It was too confusing for my previous partners. The ones I could see myself having a future with were put off by my tendencies. So I joined the group and got my satisfaction there. And it’s thrilling to please client’s who share similar desires. It really is.”

“But what about the sickly sweet romance? You don’t get that in the job.”

Minho shrugs. “I guess not. But at least I don’t keep being rejected by women this way.”

You can’t believe how anyone could reject Minho. He is kind and thoughtful. Very domesticated. You look around at his tidy home and then at the meal on your plate. But you get what he means. You know it too well.

“So have you got your next contract?” You ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

He cracks a huge grin. “Yeah. I do.”

“Well? What is it? What do you have to do?” Your eyes widen with enthusiasm.

“Hey, hey, Kitten.” He holds his hands up in a bid to calm you down. “That’s confidential.”

“Oh come on, it’s not like I know them. Please.” You bat your eyelids.

“Okay, fine. It’s a threesome.” he concedes.

“A threesome? Yes, go ahead. Tell me more..” You gesture for him to continue.

“The exact wording of the brief is ‘I want someone in me, and someone inside him.’ Okay maybe that wasn’t the exact wording, but you get the gist.”

Your mouth hangs open in excitement. “So you’re telling me—”

“Jisung’s going to be in the client’s vagina, and I am going to be in Jisung’s ass.” He states.

“Woah! So you guys fuck each other too?” You shriek.

“Sometimes.” 

“Wait! I could’ve asked for you to fuck each other? Oh man, no one told me that.” You sit back and scowl.

“Well, you’ll have to book us again.” He teases.

“I just might. So who have you fucked in the group?” You ask excitedly, taking another mouthful of pasta.

“Jisung, a few times. Chan too.” He says matter of fact.

“Chan?! No way! Has anyone fucked you?” You say with your mouth full.

“Chan. Seungmin.”

“Seungmin?” You almost choke.

“It was an experience. Although you know perfectly well how he likes to fuck an ass.”

You nod laughing, then falling quiet as the image of Seungmin inside Minho flashes through your mind. Jisung too. He’d look so pretty being ruined by Minho.

“Are you okay?” He asks, trying to meet your gaze.

“Yeah. Just trying to work out my next fantasy request for you guys. I quite like the idea of someone in me, someone in them, another in my mouth, then everyone else inside each other.”

“Do you now? I might have to keep a mental note of that.” Minho’s eyes sparkle deviously.

>>>>

“That really was a delicious meal, Minho. Thank you for cooking.” You say placing your empty plate by the sink. “Would you like me to lend a hand washing up?” You start looking for dishwashing detergent and sponges.

Minho’s arms wrap around you from behind and he nuzzles his mouth into your neck. You smile at the warm gesture. 

“I’d like you to lend a hand with something else.” He whispers against your ear. “But first.” He spins you around and presses your back against the bench. “I’ve been dying to kiss these lips all night.” he smashes down on you in a heated kiss, setting your insides on fire.

He pulls back to peel your top off over your head and throws it to the side. Then he’s unclasping your bra with skilled fingers, and that’s gone from your body in a matter of moments.

You suck in a breath as he leans down to take a nipple in his mouth, nipping at it rough and urgently. Your head lolls back and you sigh. Your hands find the top of his head, weaving your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer. He bites down hard on your nipple and you whimper. Your core throbs for more of his roughness.

He comes up for air, a smear of blood across his lip, and kisses you wildly. “Turn around.” He growls, turning you so you’re facing away from him. Reaching into a drawer, he pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tugs on your arms so they are above your head. He threads the cuffs through the overhead cupboard handle and attaches them to your wrists. You tug on the restraints, but they are extremely secure, and now you are at the mercy of Detective Minho.

“Look at you.” He whispers as he cups a breast and squeezes it. “Looks like you need questioning again, hmm?” he snarls and your cunt squeezes.

Silently, he moves to the pantry, scanning the shelves. He nods when he finds what he’s looking for, a bottle of fractionated coconut oil. He takes it from the shelf and returns to resume his interrogation.

He sets the bottle of oil on the countertop and crouches behind you to yank your shorts and panties down your legs. He guides you step out of them. Leaving you naked and chained to his kitchen cupboard. 

You poke your ass out as he slides his palms up the backs of your thighs, finding their grip on your cheeks and spreading you wide. You’re dripping wet. You know it. You can feel it, and the grunt that Minho emits tells you he knows you're soaking. The need for him to touch you is too great and you make some pathetic noise. But he simply stands back up, leaving your deprived pussy untouched.

He reaches into the kitchen drawer again, pulling out a silicone spatula and places that next to the oil. Then to your delight he strips off his own clothes so he is naked too. You lick your lips and take in the magnificent form that is Lee Minho.

“Oh you like that, hmm? Too bad you’re unable to touch me.” He smirks as he unscrews the bottle of coconut oil and applies some to his hands.

You moan as he runs his oiled hands down your back and over your ass, then whimper as he kneads the skin near your hips. He repeats the motion, slicking up your body with the oil and massaging your breasts and eventually your pussy. 

“Fuck! Yes. Min. God.” You choke when he slides a finger inside you. You grind back against him, only for him to remove his hand and leave you empty. Your eyes follow his hand as it grasps the handle of the spatula, then you feel him dragging it down your spine.

Slap!

He hits you hard on your ass. You moan, digging your teeth into your lip. 

He gently strokes you with the spatula to sooth the skin, then he pulls it back.

Slap!

He massages the red skin with his free hand. 

“God, so fucking red. So pretty.”

Slap!

You cry out louder, the sting so much more harsh than the last.

And again. Slap! 

You whimper, your legs feeling like jelly.

Minho is about to land another blow when a voice from the living room interrupts you.

You both freeze.

“Hey, Hyung? I had an idea for our — Woah!” Jisung stops in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the kitchen. “Oh fuck I’m sorry! I didn’t realize…wait… Y/n? Is that you?” His eyes narrow as you turn your head sheepishly. 

“Hi Han, Jisung? Can I call you that?” You smile, like nothing is happening.

Jusung blinks rapidly. Then he looks at Minho who is standing in the middle of the kitchen naked and outraged, and then back at you. Finally his gaze settles on your bright red bottom.

“Yah!” Yells Minho, throwing a tea towel over your rear end to try to offer some sort of coverage.

“Hyung, Man, it’s not like I haven’t seen all of her before. Hey! Actually, what is she doing here?” Jisung’s tone turns accusatory.

Minho glares at him. It’s all it takes for Jisung to concede. He throws his hands up “Okay, I’m leaving. Even though it looks like a lot of fun and… you know I could sit on the floor underneath her… suck her clit while you continue doing your dominant thing… No? Okay. Well. I’ll go. Bye Y/n.” He waves at you. 

“Bye, Jisung. Lovely to see you again.” You wink at him and the tea towel slips off, giving the stunned man a last view of you before Minho is ushering him out.

“You did that on purpose, kitten.” He growls, returning to the kitchen and pulling your head back by your hair. “Bet you wanted me to let him stay, huh?” 

“No…of course not. Just want you.” You whine. The reality though, is that you would have loved to feel Jisung’s mouth against your pussy. You close your eyes at the thought and squeeze your legs together.

Minho notices it and scoffs. “I know you’re lying. Which means… punishment.”

Once again he goes to the kitchen draw, this time taking out a wooden spoon and silicone coated tongs. Your eyes widen. 

“Five. You’ll receive five strikes with the wooden spoon. If you say orange or red, I stop immediately.” He gives his hand an experimental slap with the item. “Then,” he picks up the tongs, holding them in the air and letting them spring open.

You cunt clenches. The fact that Minho remembers you have a stretch kink makes your heart beat faster.  

He makes his way behind you and you prepare yourself for the wooden spoon.

“You have to count for me.” He states.

He brings the wooden spoon down onto your already sore ass with a hard slap. Your legs almost give way. “One.” you cry.

He strikes you again and again. A loud slap fills the room each time the wood makes contact with your skin. Tears stream down your face and you can barely count, each number coming out like a choked sob. 

“F-five.” You cry out the final number.

Minho returns the wooden spoon to the bench, then holds you in his arms. His hard, naked body against yours is comforting, his words of praise are soothing.

“Good girl. You took that so well.” He whispers, kissing your shoulder and massaging where he’d spanked you. “How was it? Not too much?” he checks in with you. “How are you feeling?”

“S’good..S’wet…Aching…p-pussy needs filling up. Need to come.” you babble.

Minho chuckles, his eyes smiling with admiration. “I’ll make sure you’re taken care of. One last thing before I fuck you. I know you can take it.”

He drizzles the end of the tongs with oil, then crouches down behind you. He holds the tongs closed and runs them through your glistening labia. You let out a moan. Then he catches your clit. He allows the tongs to open just enough so can capture it, pinching it hard. 

Jolts of arousal shoot through you and you cry out.

Then you feel the tongs at your entrance and you automatically push your ass out further, giving Minho more access. Keeping the tongs closed, he slides them inside you. You must look so filthy with a pair of kitchen utensils shoved up your vagina. 

He’s not gentle when he fucks you with them. He’s messy, sloppy, rough, but he manages to find your g-spot every time. You’re surely about to come, but he slows down, bringing the tongs to a standstill. You whimper, frustrated from having your orgasm stolen from you. Then you feel it. The tongs opening inside you. 

“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” You cry.

“Color?”

“Green. Fucking green.” You scream.

He chuckles as he scissors you open. 

“Fuck.” He hisses. His free hand spreads your cheek wide. “Pussy’s so good when it’s stretched like this.”

“Maybe you should’ve been a doctor.” You pant.

“Sometimes I am darlin’. You wait till I use a real speculum on this pretty cunt. Open you right up so I can see inside.”

His fingers land on your clit. The added sensation has you on the verge of release. “Minho… please. Need to come.” You beg.

“Yeah? Pussy needs to come, huh? Do it.” He starts an onslaught of scissoring then thrusting, while his deft fingers on your clit tighten that coil inside you.

You're perspiring, shaking, sobbing as you’re thrown off the precipice in an earth shattering orgasm.

“That’s it. Making a mess for me. Mmm… can hardly move these tongs you’re gripping so tight.”

You can’t even respond, your panting and shivering so hard, barely able to stand.

He eases the utensil out of you, tossing them into the kitchen sink, along with the items he used to cook for you earlier, then he’s lining himself up to your entrance.

“Just relax for me. Yes… fuck yes… that’s my girl… let me in…” he pushes himself all the way inside you. You welcome the smooth silky hardness against your walls, and he slides in and out with ease, despite your tight grip on him. 

Holding onto your hips he fucks into you harder until he’s built up a brutal pace that reminds you of when you were in the interrogation room. Except this time, he leans his body against your back and massages your breasts, caresses your stomach, and plants hot wet kisses anywhere his mouth can reach.

The roughness and the softness combined sends all sorts of unfamiliar feelings through your body. You like it, it feels good, and you feel tears pricking your eyes. You’re going to come again. Any second now the tension is going to snap.

“You take me so well, Kitten. It's like you were made for me.”

That does it. You come hard around his cock with a loud wailing sound. He fucks you through it, chasing his own orgasm. “Gonna fill you. Gonna fill this perfect little cunt. My cunt.” He slams into you, almost knocking you off your feet then pulls out. He quickly works on freeing your wrists, turning you and lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist as he impales you on his cock, fucking you whilst he makes his way to the dining table.

He lays you down on the table, and starts to slam into you hard again. His rhythm is hard, fast, and so so deep. “Gonna fill you..” he growls as he throws his head back and empties himself inside you. He stills, but you can still feel him pulsing and filling you to the brim.

He leans over you, collapsing on your chest, and you bring your arms around him, holding him silently for a few minutes.

“Let’s go wash you.” He says eventually, pulling himself out, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom.

Once the temperature of the water is comfortable, he helps you climb in with him and proceeds to wash your body.

It isn’t long until you’ve regained your composure and are able to stand steady on your feet. It’s only now that you can take in the man before you. You take the sponge from him, lather it up with body wash and start to wash his body. With a look of surprise and a hint of hesitation, he lets out an exhale and allows you to wash him.

He watches you as you run the sponge over his chest, down his torso, and drop to your knees in front of him. You swear you hear him whimper when your eyes land on his cock.

You drop the sponge and place your hands on his strong thighs. You need him in your mouth. He cups your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, and through hooded eyelids you silently seek permission to take care of him. He releases your chin and lets out a shaky breath when you wrap your hand around the base of his semi erect cock. Slowly, you lick the length of the underside. Then swirl your tongue around the tip. He grows rapidly, and it has you dying to choke on it.

Minho simply stands still while you work his cock, providing absolutely no help. But that doesn’t deter you. Or slow you down. You decide you’re going to choke on him all by yourself. You pop off with a plop, fill your lungs with air, then take him fully into your mouth. Cupping his delicious ass cheeks with your hands, you pull him towards you while you bob your head up and down his shaft. 

You hear his breath become heavier, and a hand wraps around your wet hair, his other he rests against the tiled wall behind you. 

“Look at you. So hungry for cock, you’re choking yourself.” He purrs. “I’m close… fuck, im so close.” His hips begin to press forwards, pushing his dick further into your throat. He cums quickly, spurting thick ropes cum into your mouth. “Holy shit!” He chokes as he empties himself.

After you’ve milked him of every drop and swallowed him down, he pulls you back to your feet. He looks almost bewildered when he looks into your eyes. “Y/n. How are you so perfect for me?” He whispers. 

You swallow hard. You’re thinking something similar about him. Instead, you shrug. “Well I’m not sure detective. Maybe you’ll have to investigate further?” you quip.

He chuckles. “Maybe it's better to just go with it and not question it.”

You nod in agreement. “Let’s not overthink it, then.”

You both dry off, and Minho leads you to his bed, a big King size bed with black sheets and a black quilt. 

“Oh, you’re not sending me on my way?” You tease.

”Fuck no. I need…need to hold you.” He says softly, pulling you onto the bed with him.

He falls asleep quickly with his arms around you and your head on his chest. His steady breath is soothing as his chest rises and falls. You’re not sure what is happening, how this man seems to be able to fill so many of your needs, or how easy he is to be around. Yet here you are, and you’re thankful you took a chance with the sex fantasy agency. 

Your thoughts shift to Minho’s next assignment. Jisung in some woman’s cunt, and Minho in Jisung. Fuck, that sounds like a dream. Then your mind goes to Jisung walking in on you and Minho earlier. What would have happened if Minho asked him to stay?

You sigh, feeling confused. You've got strong feelings for Minho, yet you feel yourself grow wet at the thought of Jisung, and the rest of them.

You find Minho’s hand and thread your fingers through his. That’ll be a problem for future you. Right now you’re ready to fall asleep in the arms of someone that finally accepts you for who you are.

>>>>>>

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[megalony]

I'm Scared- Part 2

Here is the second part to my Eddie Diaz imagine, thank you all for the lovely feedback on the first part. I hope you will all like this.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

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Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Part 1

Summary: All Hell breaks loose when, while on a call, a bomb blows up the fire truck and Eddie's wife ends up becoming trapped beneath it. And the team have to fight to get her out.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie ran his fingers through his hair and tilted his head to one side. The strong smell of black coffee did nothing to wake him up and the caffeine wasn't making him feel any better.

He wasn't sure how long he had been awake for. He had done a twelve hour shift when the accident happened. (Y/n)'s surgery had taken all night and dragged on into the morning and Eddie couldn't sleep a wink through that time.

He'd been making phone calls, trying to get hold of (Y/n)'s parents, contacting his own parents down in Texas. He rang Chris to talk to him once Buck had graciously taken to look after him so Carla could go home. It had taken him half an hour to explain everything to Chris and calm his son down and reassure him that (Y/n) was going to be okay.

Chris had seen the news. He hadn't known it had been his step-mum who got hurt, but he had cried when Eddie told him it was (Y/n).

Now (Y/n)'s surgery was over but Eddie couldn't sleep. He couldn't risk it when (Y/n) hadn't come around from the anaesthetic yet. He needed to be the first one to talk to her and explain and reassure her that she was okay.

Sleep could wait.

He downed half the coffee in the flimsy paper cup, grimacing at the amount of sugar he'd needed to add to try and keep his system going. The coffee was nasty, it was vile and putrid, but Eddie needed something and the coffee machine was only down the corridor from (Y/n)'s room. He couldn't stray far and go to the cafeteria. He had to be close by.

He continued down the corridor back towards (Y/n)'s room as he hung his head.

Why did it have to be her?

How awful did that make Eddie for wishing it had been someone else- anyone else, but his wife? He would rather have watched the other members of his team suffer than (Y/n). Eddie would have taken her place if he could, he would have bared the pain and the weight of the truck crushing through his muscle and bone. He would have been plastered to the road in (Y/n)'s place if God would let him.

But no. No, it had to be the one person on the team who Eddie swore to protect with his life and love more than anything. It had to be the person who held his heart in her hands and subsequently broke it by being in so much agony where Eddie couldn't help her.

He took a deep breath to ward off the tears threatening to spill over and tried to head back to (Y/n). But as Eddie neared her room, he felt his heart give out an extra beat that slammed into his ribs and sent his body convulsing in retaliation.

The door was open. The emergency light above the door was flashing red. He could hear raised voices and equipment crashing about.

Oh God.

The coffee spilled down the grooves of his fingers and down the back of his hand when he tossed it down on the nearest table. He ignored the slight burn that sizzled into his skin and focused on pelting down to the room. His hand gripped the door frame and he used it to swing himself around to the left and blunder inside.

What were they doing? What was wrong? Had she had a complication? Oh God, (Y/n) hadn't suddenly coded, had she? Were they going to rescusitate her?

Eddie's eyes danced around the room, desperately trying to figure out what was going wrong and what they were doing to his wife.

He didn't know what to do with the sight in front of him.

(Y/n) was thrashing about on the bed so much that for a moment, Eddie thought she was having a seizure. But he realised that she was fighting. She was pushing off the hands trying to hold her down and stop her from getting up or moving too suddenly and hurting herself.

The oxygen tube that had been clipped beneath her nose had been thrown off the side of the bed. The heart monitor was now beeping furiously with a continuous red line because (Y/n) had taken the clip off her finger. Her trembling hands were trying to rip the blue and white stickers on her chest that were there for cardiac emergencies.

The scream she let out was broken and hoarse and it sent shivers right down to Eddie's toes that were twitching in his boots.

When she screamed again, Eddie broke out of his frozen stance in the doorway and hurried forward. He tried to nudge one of the nurses out the way without being rough or starting a fight himself. He weaved in between one of the nurses and the doctor who were clearly doing more harm than good by trying to push (Y/n) down rather than talking to calm her down.

"Sir, please-"

"She's my wife, let me calm her down." Eddie didn't give them much of a choice. He nudged the doctor until she moved out of his way and they switched places.

He wasted no time in lowering the frame at the side of the bed and he pushed it down so he could lean his hips onto the mattress and lean over (Y/n).

Her arms were trembling as she waved them in front of her and tried to bat everyone away from her. She wanted to sit up. She wanted to move. Wherever she was, (Y/n) knew this wasn't home and that was exactly where she wanted to be.

"Baby, baby it's me. Hey, it's me." Eddie caught (Y/n)'s wrists in his hands when she tried to lash out at him.

His voice did the trick in causing (Y/n) to finally stop writhing from side to side. Her eyes could barely stay in focus and it proved that she had only just come out of the anaesthetic. She had been murmuring and rousing for the last hour or two, but finally, she had woken up.

Her eyes roamed around until they finally seemed to settle on Eddie and she blinked furiously to try and stare up at him, but she could barely see with the fog rolling in on her mind.

Her fingers twitched and shook in his grip and when she brushed her finger along Eddie's cheek, his lips twitched and he leaned into the touch.

He turned his head so he could kiss her knuckles and his eyes focused on the cannula in the back of her hand. It was still in place. Now he knew why the doctor had been trying to grab her hand and stop her from lashing out; if that came out they would have a struggle getting (Y/n) to agree to let them put the needle back in her vein.

(Y/n) tried to let herself relax and focus on Eddie, but she could barely register Eddie's touch when all her other senses were on fire. Her head felt like it was being caved in by a hammer. She felt sick. Her nerves were being set on fire like fuses to fireworks that were about to explode.

Every noise sounded muffled and distant in her ears, but nobody was helping. All these strange people were grabbing at her, moving her, pinning her down, telling her to stop moving. Was she under arrest? Had she been kidnapped? What were they doing?

"Baby," Eddie gently lowered her hands so they were resting on her waist rather than being held up in front of her. But he could see that distant look in her unfocused eyes, as if she were drifting off into her own world.

A shudder tore through (Y/n)'s body when she closed her eyes and an image of Eddie flashed in front of her mind.

Eddie was screaming. His nails were piercing through her arms, yanking on them so much it felt like he was going to rip her arms from their sockets. He was pulling her across the road. He was crying. His voice was in her ears, whispering that everything was going to be okay now. He had her.

Then it ignited.

Eddie's lips rolled together and he couldn't help but wince when a broken sob bubbled past (Y/n)'s lips and she reached out for him. Her hands suddenly dug into his shoulders and she pulled on him enough to make him wobble and grab the bed so he didn't fall on top of her.

It hurt.

Her leg was on fire. It was being torn apart by rabid teeth. She could feel the blood acting as glue, sticking her to the concrete road that had grazed all down her body when she skidded out the truck. She could feel an immense weight crushing down on her leg causing pain to strike all the way up to her skull like knives slashing up and down her skin.

A murmur of 'oow' left her lips on repeat while she let go of Eddie's shoulder and tried to move her hand down her waist towards her thigh. She didn't have the nerve to lean forward and look. She couldn't move her hand an inch further down her thigh and see whether her leg was still connected or if she had a stump in its place.

(Y/n) didn't want to lose her leg. She didn't want to have to adjust to a life without her limb. She didn't want to be set back years and have to learn to adapt and walk with a prosthetic. She didn't want that much time off work or the threat of having to change jobs if she couldn't keep up with the team or was too much of a liability.

"Is- have- is it gone?" Words tumbled past her lips but her voice was no more than a whisper and she tried to sit forward again until Eddie leaned over her and nudged her back.

"No, no mi amor, you're okay. You haven't lost your leg."

Eddie hated that he had to reassure (Y/n), he hated that she was afraid she had lost her limb during surgery. He was furious that she had to have surgery at all. None of this was right, it wasn't fair and it shouldn't be happening to her.

His hands cupped her face and he smoothed his thumbs across her face and leaned over until their temples were pressed together. It allowed (Y/n) to copy his breathing pattern and she held her breath and let her system adjust when Eddie stole a kiss, wet with tears.

Eddie continued to cup her face, but he punctured his teeth down into his lower lip and leaned to the side just enough so (Y/n) could look past him.

Now she knew why they had all been preventing her from sitting up.

Her leg was in a cast. She hadn't felt it before, but there was a thick pot cast from the base of her toes, all the way up her leg and finished halfway up her thigh. It was almost the size of her entire leg and it was elevated with a sling to keep her leg from resting on the bed.

Why hadn't she felt that when she woke up? How was she going to move with that there? What was she going to do? How long would she have to be in here? Was that even her leg in there, or was this some kind of mirrage to sedate her and calm her down from a frenzy?

A flood wave of tears began to pour down her face as she thrust her head back into the pillow and dug her nails into Eddie's shoulders to pin him next to her.

How was she going to manage like this?

Tremors rattled through (Y/n)'s body that jerked forward like she had risen from the dead. It felt like she had been sinking into the mattress and hands had suddenly grabbed her shoulders and pulled her free.

Her body began to shake and shallow, panting breaths ran away from her as she darted her eyes open and looked around the room. It took (Y/n) a lot longer than it should have to realise where she was and what was going on.

She was at home. She was safe. She was in bed.

Her hands shakily ran down her chest and her eyes closed and she dragged her fingertips down her thighs until they hit the unfamiliar, gritty pot stuck on her leg that felt like cement.

It was still there. Both the pot and her leg were exactly where she expected them to be.

Every time (Y/n) dreamed of the accident, something seemed to change. One night she dreamt her leg had been completely severed at the knee and she was staring down at a bloody, amputated limb that was still moving and twitching and bleeding. Another night, she dreamt that Eddie had grinned savagely at her before yanking on her arms, forcefully severing her from her mutilated leg.

Another night, she had woken up crying out for Eddie because in her dream, no one had been with her. She had been the only person in the truck when it crashed and no one knew she had been trapped. No one came to her rescue.

(Y/n) couldn't remember the dream tonight. Only flashes of red and blue lights flickering in the back of her mind.

She tried her best to take deep breaths, but it didn't help her chest that felt like it had been crushed and her body was still trembling. And when she pressed her hands down into the mattress, she cringed when she realised she was sweating. It felt like someone had dumped a bucket of water over her during her sleep.

She cast her eyes to the left but tears continued to trickle down her face when she looked over at Eddie. She didn't want to wake him. What good would that do either of them?

(Y/n) didn't want to go back to sleep. Not now her heart was racing and she could still feel the effects of whatever dream had plagued her tonight.

It wasn't as if she could sleep properly anyway. (Y/n) wanted to turn over. She wanted to twist onto her left side and huddle up in Eddie's arms. She wanted to burrow into his chest and have him wrapped around her. She wanted to cuddle up to him and lay like they normally did.

That wasn't possible right now.

The only way (Y/n) could lay was to lie on her back because the pot on her leg made it impossible to lay on either side. If she wanted to lay on her left side and face Eddie, (Y/n) had to keep her legs straight and twist her upper body and after a while, it really hurt her waist to be at that angle. She couldn't bear to try and twist to the right.

Her leg was constant agony. Some nights it felt like (Y/n) could pinpoint where each pin and bolt was in her leg with how her muscles throbbed beneath the cast. She wanted to scrape it off. She wanted to smash the pot and scratch her leg to ribbons and make it heal instantly so she didn't have to be in this agony anymore.

Her hands moved to rub all the tears from her face that now felt wet and hot to the touch.

She should go and sit in the living room. She should get a drink and move so she didn't wake Eddie; he needed sleep. There was no point lying here uncomfortably if her mind wasn't going to go back to sleep.

It took some effort to get herself sitting up and she braced her hands behind her so she didn't flop back on the bed.

She wasn't sure how to do this. For the last week since coming home, Eddie had helped her. He had been her strength, her momentum and her motivation for everything. He helped her in and out of bed, he was right there behind her when she was trying to walk using the crutches.

And especially when she needed the bathroom or to shower. Getting a bath was impossible, so they found a routine where she would have to stick her cast out the shower. Eddie stood right behind her letting her lean back into his chest, holding her up and helping her wash.

(Y/n) didn't want to keep relying on him. She wanted to try and do things herself so she didn't become a burden. Having Eddie tell her each time he helped her that he loved her made (Y/n) feel better, but she still felt like she was relying on him too much. She didn't want him to end up resenting her for how badly she needed help.

Creasing forward, (Y/n) tried to fold in on herself and she hooked both hands beneath her cast that seemed to weigh more than a person. Sometimes it felt like she was hobbling round with one of the team attached to her leg.

It took her a while to twist around and swing her leg over the edge of the bed without making too much noise or movement so Eddie stayed sound asleep behind her.

The crutches were right where she had left them, slumped up against the bedside table and (Y/n) reached out for one of them and hooked it beneath her right arm. She needed to get stood up and leant on this one before she tried to fathom how to get the other and move around without waking Eddie.

More tears flooded (Y/n)'s eyes when she managed to get up to her feet. She could barely put any weight on her right leg. Standing on two feet felt like she was standing one leg on hot coals that burned right up to her hip. The only choice she had was to hop on her left leg and keep her right leg elevated and practically useless until it healed.

(Y/n) bowed her head down and leaned to the left while her right hand clenched around the crutch so tightly she felt like it was going to snap.

Two hobbling steps away from the bed was all (Y/n) could manage on one crutch. She tried to turn to the right and reach out for her other crutch, but she made the mistake of putting the tiniest bit of weight onto the tip of her right foot.

The pain spread throughout her system like a wildfire and she shifted back onto her left foot a little too quickly for her balance to comprehend.

An ungodly crash rung out through the air when (Y/n) collided with the floor and the crutches hit the table and rebounded on the floor.

Shivers tore through (Y/n)'s body that was back to trembling again and when she heard Eddie gasp and bolt upright in bed, she wailed.

She couldn't do anything right. She couldn't get herself up out of bed without making a ruckus and now she had woken Eddie and unadvertently let him know that she'd had an accident. Her hands reached out to smother her face, causing each breath she took to come out in wheezes as she tried her best to hold in a scream.

When her elbow nudged against one of the crutches, (Y/n) grabbed it and tossed it as far as she could until it slid across the floor towards the bedroom door. She wanted to kick her heels and throw herself around like a child having a paddy.

"Baby?! Amor, what happened?"

Eddie's voice rung out through the air as he sat bolt upright and darted his eyes around the room. He felt mad as he tried to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness while he flung the cover off and twisted to kneel on the bed when he realised (Y/n) wasn't next to him.

He turned on the bedside lamp but as soon as his eyes set on (Y/n), his heart plummeted down to his gut and he clamped his teeth down into his lower lip.

He quickly clambered off the bed and knelt down next to her, nudging her other crutch out the way so he could try and move her. But before he could reach out for her, (Y/n) lifted her head off the floor and forcefully slammed it back down enough to make Eddie's arms coil into his chest in shock.

"No, n- baby don't do that, please."

Eddie's pleading only made (Y/n) cry harder and she rammed her head back again until Eddie slid his hand around and cupped the base of her neck to make her stop. She was going to give herself a concussion. He wouldn't be surprised if she had blurred her vision now and given herself a migraine after that.

His other arm curved around her and his hand planted down beneath her back so he could reel her up from the floor so she was sitting up.

(Y/n) tried to hide her cries by smothering her face into Eddie's shirt until she was barely able to breathe. She had already made enough of a noise that she might have woken Chris. She didn't want him to hear her cry. She had already cried in front of Eddie enough these last two weeks, she didn't want to cry this much anymore.

Eddie slid his hand up to cup (Y/n)'s head that he was sure would be aching now and he tilted his head down to smother his lips into her hair. He could feel (Y/n)'s arms shakily weaving around his chest so her hands were clutching his back. And when she shuffled closer, Eddie obliged and parted his knees so she could slot between his thighs.

He wasn't sure which one of them started to rock back and forth, but the swaying seemed to help. His fingers wove into her hair and he started rubbing his hand up and down her back in soothing circles.

"Where were you going?" He murmured softly as he leaned his cheek on top of her head and sank back on his heels to try and ease the tension on his knees. He wasn't used to kneeling on the floor like this.

"Couldn't sleep," (Y/n) hated the way she couldn't stop crying just for a minute so she could try and talk.

She kept her face burrowed into Eddie's chest for another minute until she found the courage to let her head loll back so she could look up at him. The understanding was written all over his face and it made her feel worse. She didn't want him to understand. She wanted Eddie to feel annoyed and frustrated for how often she needed his help and for waking him up in the middle of the night like this.

She nudged her cheek against Eddie's wrist and slid her hands from his back to hold his biceps instead.

"I'm- I'm gonna get some meds."

Her words caused Eddie to raise a brow and tilt his head to one side, but when she tried to shimmy out of his arms, he tutted at her. His arms tightened around her and he tugged her back into his chest so he could press a soft kiss to her temple.

If she thought Eddie was going to let her shuffle all the way to the kitchen then she was utterly mistaken.

Eddie didn't care if (Y/n) thought she needed to do this on her own or if she thought she was being a burden. She wasn't. He loved her more than anything in the world and he was going to look after her. He wouldn't let her suffer or do this on her own and if she needed his help for something, Eddie wanted her to ask rather than feel like she was being dependent on him.

"Baby, you're not shuffling into the kitchen��� besides, you had all your meds before we went to sleep."

A horrible wail left (Y/n)'s lips and her fingers scratched down Eddie's biceps as she clutched him tighter. "It hurts! Eddie, please… oww, please,"

She needed more meds. She needed something to take the edge off. Falling had made her leg go blindingly numb, but now the pain was crashing over her in waves and she felt like her leg was about to be severed all over again. She wanted it to stop. The pain was overwhelming. (Y/n) needed something.

"I know, I know." Eddie pecked her burning temple again as he took to swaying them from left to right as (Y/n) burrowed tighter into his chest.

(Y/n) cringed at the thoughts running through her head and she clung to Eddie tighter as if it would somehow make her mind give in. But maybe it would have been better if she had her leg amputated. Maybe it was more trouble than it was worth to have all these pins slotted into her bone and have her muscle stitched back together and her blood vessels reattached.

Maybe losing her leg would have been less painful than having to heal up all the different wounds splintered into her leg. Maybe recovery would have been less painful without her leg and the cast and pins and stitches and constant agony. Even if she would of had to start from scratch, that might have been better than this endurance.

"Let's go back to bed." The soft tone to Eddie's voice almost felt like a lullaby and (Y/n) tucked her face into his neck, pressing her wet lips against his skin. She wanted to agree, but she shook her head. She couldn't go to sleep. That was the whole reason she got out of bed in the first place; (Y/n) didn't want to go back to sleep and risk another nightmare. And it would take a long time for her to get comfy enough to sleep.

"I can't sleep."

"I didn't say anything about sleeping, mi amor. We can watch a movie, but we're not sitting down here for the rest of the night. Come on."

Eddie tried to loop (Y/n)'s arms around his neck so he could help her up, but she clutched at his arms and pressed down into his chest like she was trying to disappear.

"Baby…"

"I don't- I don't want to be a burden-"

"I don't wanna hear that."

(Y/n) shuddered when Eddie's hand moved around from cupping the back of her neck to cradle the side of her face which he angled up in his direction. She didn't have time to protest or gasp or cry when Eddie stole her lips with such fever her mind went blank and the pain circulating through her leg was momentarily blanked out.

It was as if he was pushing all of his love and emotions into the kiss, trying to convey hundreds of secrets into one loving, igniting touch. And when (Y/n) parted her lips, Eddie stole what little air she had left in her lungs and swiped his tongue across her lip like he was searching for more.

"I seem to remember my vows including sickness and health, so if you're not well, I'm taking care of you. Got it?"

(Y/n) didn't have the will to argue when Eddie leant his forehead against hers and spoke so quietly and closely that each word fanned across her lips and made her shiver. She managed to nod her head before Eddie stole another kiss and swiped away her tears with the pad of his thumb.

Her mind drew a blank when Eddie muttered "Good girl," against her lips which made her go limp. And he used that to his advantage to loop her arms around his neck while he pushed up from his knees and lifted (Y/n) up with him like she weighed nothing more than a bag of sugar.

It was as if Eddie could read her thoughts because when he climbed into bed after laying her down, he was already moving and shifting her around. He moved until he was sat directly in the middle of the bed, spreading each leg around (Y/n) so she was sat between his thighs. He leaned her back until she was settled against his chest with her head on his shoulder and his arms around her waist.

If she could only sit or lay on her back to keep her cast in place and prevent any further pain, then Eddie would lay like this with her. He would cocoon himself around her to make her feel better and if (Y/n) happened to fall asleep like this, then it was even better.

His fingers feathered up and down her chest and torso and his lips attached to her temple while (Y/n) grabbed the remote and turned the tv on low. Although she knew she wasn't going to be paying much attention when all her focus was going to Eddie right now and how he was holding all her broken pieces together better than the cast on her leg.

"I've got you, mi amor."

***

Running her fingers through her hair, (Y/n) closed her eyes and leaned against the wall for a moment.

God, she felt silly.

How could a firefighter like her, lose her momentum and strength after taking a shower?

It wasn't as if it was as much of a struggle anymore, now that she was able to shower without a large pot cast secured around one leg. She didn't have to shower with one leg sticking out and a bundle of towels on the floor to stop from flooding the bathroom. (Y/n) didn't have to worry about losing her balance or sheepishly asking Eddie if he would help her shower or get dressed.

She had been living in Eddie's clothes for a month while she had the cast on. She had barely left the house because all she could wear were her dresses or Eddie's lounge sets. Because Eddie's shorts were large on her and loose enough to be baggy over her cast. (Y/n) wasn't cutting up any of her leggings or jeans. Not for that damn cast.

But she thought it would be easier once the cast was off. (Y/n) thought she could move about easier, but her leg still felt like it was made out of clay that hadn't hardened yet. Putting too much weight on her leg made it ache and (Y/n) didn't feel like her leg could support her yet. The muscles were still weak and trying to reattach together and heal. Her nerves were still frazzled and her bone wasn't done healing around the pins.

(Y/n) tried to find her new sense of balance, leaning mostly to the left with only a little weight on her right leg. And she pushed off the wall that had been holding her up so she could try and walk down the hall.

She and Eddie had never been happier that they lived in a bungalow than the day (Y/n) came home from hospital. She couldn't imagine how much harder it would have been if she had to shuffle up and down a set of stairs. She would never come down. Scratch that, she would never get down on her own.

Her hand trailed the wall as she hobbled away from the bathroom and followed the sound of Eddie's voice that was humming through the air along to the tune on the radio.

She tried to take slow, deep breaths but it wasn't helping to calm her system down. Maybe the shower had been too hot. (Y/n) was starting to feel run down, and it couldn't simply be from how much effort it was now to get showered and dressed.

Her nose crinkled and her free hand moved to her chest as she twitched and tried to straighten her back to see if it would help, but it didn't.

"Eddie…?" Her eyes locked on his frame in front of the kitchen window. He had his back to her with one hip cocked out to the side and it looked like he was washing up.

"Hm?"

He grabbed a tea towel and dried his hands before he spun around, but the smile on his face faded when he looked (Y/n) up and down. It was normal to see her leaning to one side now, almost as if she had shifted and her foundations had moved. But it was the panic in her eyes and the worry lines sewn around her lips that put Eddie on edge.

"What's up?"

"My chest hurts," Her voice came out a lot croakier than she intended and she began rubbing her hand in circles across her chest to see if it would help ease the tension that was steadily growing.

The worry in Eddie's eyes made her stomach flip and she tilted her head back to look up at him when he stood in front of her. His hands cupped her face and his thumbs swiped across her jaw before he moved down to check her pulse while he stared into her eyes. Her pupils were constricting to the kitchen light and focusing on him which was good, but her pulse was high.

He took the chance to peck her cheek when she leaned into his touch and he managed a smile when (Y/n) leaned her cheek into his shoulder when he stood closer to her side. He placed one hand on her lower chest and the other against her back.

"Deep breath?" He murmured softly into the back of her head as he tried to feel if she had any tension in her chest.

(Y/n) tried, but she circled her right arm beneath Eddie's bicep and moved her other hand to smother a cough. She clung to Eddie tightly and let her weight slump into him as she tried to stop coughing. Each cough felt hoarse and made her chest tighten, all of which Eddie could feel.

She grumbled through a deeper breath when she finally stopped coughing, but the sight of her palm made a whimper tear past her lips.

"Eddie…" (Y/n) hated the tears that were already welling up in her eyes and she leaned her head up from his shoulder to look up at him. He didn't get chance to say anything before she held her trembling palm up for him to see.

She was coughing up blood.

"Shit!"

Her shoulders coiled inwards and she whimpered, hovering both hands in front of her mouth as another cough rumbled past her lips.

(Y/n) felt tears splashing down her face and she snapped her eyes closed, pulling her arms to imbed them into her waist. She could feel the blood coating her throat and welling up in her mouth, but it felt awful to have blood dribbling down her lips and splattering onto her palms. The taste was bitter like lemon zest and made her mouth tingle.

But the more (Y/n) tried to breathe, the more blood started to bubble up in her mouth and spill down her chin.

"Baby, baby just keep breathing as much as you can for me. Lean on me, look, we're going to the ER."

Something akin to a cry bubbled up with another spout of blood and (Y/n) gratefully took the tea towel Eddie placed in her palms. She pressed it to her mouth, coughing and spluttering as her head started to become dizzy and she felt like she was a balloon filling up with air. Or blood.

Her legs barely moved when Eddie cocooned both his arms around her waist and ushered her from the kitchen. He let her recline into his chest and he held up the brunt of her waist, becoming a driving force behind her to get her out the house faster.

He barely managed to grab his keys as he patted down his back pockets to make sure he had his wallet and his phone before they were stumbling out the door.

He swept his eyes up and down (Y/n) when she leaned into him a bit more and he suddenly noticed she had no shoes or socks on her feet. She was wearing leggings and one of his shirts, but that would have to do, they didn't have time to stop when she was now struggling to breathe.

He could feel (Y/n) shuddering in his arms and her knees started to bend like she wanted to slide down to the floor. She didn't hold the strength to keep hobbling forward anymore. All (Y/n) could do was tremble in Eddie's arms and splutter and grog into the tea towel that was quickly changing from grey to dark crimson.

"E- E-ugh… Eddie," It had never taken (Y/n) so many tries to say his name and Eddie hated the desperation that had his heart trying to reach out for her.

He cringed at her lack of air and moved round so he was stood just in front of her with both arms around her waist and her head now tucked up into his neck.

"It's okay, I've got you. You're gonna be alright, mi amor." He hushed against her temple as he continued walking with (Y/n) slumped into his chest and her feet just barely scraping the floor to try and help.

He had to get her to the hospital. He wouldn't come close to losing her; not again.

***

"Do you feel any better?"

Eddie dropped his head down into the crook of (Y/n)'s neck and started peppering a few kisses to her skin. He tightened his arms that had been secured around her waist for the last hour or so since they had been moved into this room.

His thumbs started to stroke up and down her waist while his chest moulded over her back like he was a blanket trying to secure around her. (Y/n) had barely let go of him since they arrived and when she was finally assessed and given the medication she needed, she had reached out for Eddie. He sat down on the bed with her once she was transferred from the emergency room up here and he hadn't let go of her yet.

"Still tight," (Y/n) moved her free hand to weakly rub her chest over her sternum before she dropped her hand to her lap and let her head loll forward.

It was comforting to have Eddie's arms around her. (Y/n) knew if she slumped forward or fell back, Eddie would catch her either way.

And her lips curved into a tired grin when she felt Eddie's hand trail upwards until his hand was curled into a loose fist and he began rubbing the back of his knuckles up and down her chest. The feeling of his hand across her sternum made the tension ease a little and (Y/n) leaned into the touch while her fingers tapped against the tube in her hands.

When they arrived in the emergency room, they had quickly assessed that she was suffering a pulmonary embolism. A blood clot from her damaged leg had blocked her lung and burst a vessel.

The blood had been drained from her lung, she had been given a big injection of anti-coagulants to thin her blood and prevent any further clots.

(Y/n) could finally breathe again and she wasn't spewing blood into her hands or pawing at Eddie's shirt, begging through ragged breaths for him to hold her and help her. She was glad he was sat behind her so she didn't have to look at his blood-covered shirt that was going to have to go in the bin when they eventually went home.

"You sound a lot better now, baby." Eddie murmured into her neck while he closed his eyes and listened to each breath she took.

He could feel her breaths against his hand and through her back that was moulded into his chest. Even though she was still crackling and gasping every now and then, she was a lot better than when they arrived.

He knew she wasn't happy about needing to stay here until she was discharged in the morning. They had to keep her for observation to make sure no other clots happened.

And for the next four days, Eddie would be giving (Y/n) anti-coagulant injections to make sure this didn't happen again.

(Y/n) wasn't pleased that she was going to need blood thinners for the next three months. That was protocol after an embolism like this, but it meant she wouldn't be going back to work anytime soon, not that she would have been back with the state of her leg at the moment.

"This helps." She waved the plastic tube in her hand before moving it back to her mouth. The nurse had kindly offered her some gas and air medication.

It didn't exactly take the pain from her chest or the sting in her leg that was still forever present, but it loosened her chest. The nurse said she could use it as much as she wanted so (Y/n) was making the most of it. She had been given a powdered inhaler earlier to stimulate her airways into opening fully but it made her cough worse.

When she pushed back to sit upright, (Y/n) closed her eyes and let her head drop back onto Eddie's shoulder, causing him to straighten up against her. He continued gliding his hand up and down the centre of her chest while (Y/n) readjusted in his arms.

She dropped the air tube onto the side unit and curled both her arms around her waist to hold Eddie's hand.

It felt good to be able to bend her right knee again and move her leg rather than forever keep it stretched out in a pot that wouldn't move. She felt like she was doing yoga just by sitting with her knees raised.

She brought her legs up and crossed them beneath her on the bed and slouched her back into Eddie's chest while he leaned back and eased her with him.

"You good?"

She hummed and nodded into the crook of his neck while Eddie attached his lips to her temple and leaned his cheek on top of her head.

"Try and get some sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He could tell his words were comforting because (Y/n) relaxed into him and he felt her smiling into his neck.

As long as she had Eddie's arms around her, she knew she would be okay.

[glypt0don]

So, this is quite a rant. You can skip to the bottom, if you want to know my opinion but don't want to read that much... But I worked hard on it and I think it's important, so it would make me very happy if you read through the whole text.

So this fits into something I wanted to post about anyway: a broader theme of why do we frame things as wars? Like, why is it culture war, specifically. First I liked the concept, I thought it described something quite complicated reasonably easily. But I pondered on it a bit more and I think there's more going on.

It's pretty trivial, that most societies went through a huge change over the last half century. It's not just feminism. I could make a whole list of things we as a people took on. Anti-racism and civil rights, religious acceptance, global trade, reinterpreting the meaning of peace, connecting the word through the world-wide web, etc. We ( or, as I am barely an adult and have no idea how to change things for the better, I should say you, or maybe chat) decided it was time for change, so change came. You brought it about.

And I agree. Change WAS and IS necessary. What that change should entail, well, we all have our ideas, right? And they have the ugly tendency to differ from each other. The question then is, how do we coincide our contradictory ideas on society? The answer is both worrying and very important.

To be fair, our race doesn't have a great track record on solving these kinds of issues. I dug into my historical knowledge, since, you know, those who don't learn from it, repeat it... The only thing I can compare to what's happening today would be the Reformation (which probably says a lot about my historical knowledge). That's the only time I know, where societal assumptions were altered so much in such a short time. That time it was specifically about the Catholic church (if you don't know, what I'm talking about, you really should, so Google it), and the result was a series of wars, that ultimately may have wiped out about a fifth of Europes population. The wars were of course led by powerful men, who capitalised on the divide to further their own goals.

As back then, now too, we can't rely on institutions to tame the public. Many media and political identities have a direct interest in polarising society. Because that's what happens. All these contentious issues about gender, class, or foreign policy become dividing lines between folks who are supposed to be parts of the same whole (call it community, state, nation or humanity, depending on how wide you can think). You know, how it works, probably saw it a few times, whatever your interests are. It's literally everywhere! We fight it out with the perceived enemy of the week sometimes, when there is an election, something notable happens, or it's simply Pride Month. Then everyone goes back to their respective corners, where they vehemently agree with themselves. We don't talk a lot, just throw words at each other, like Buggs Bunny, playing tennis with a dynamite.

I should say, this post is a notable and refreshing outlier. Thanks, @trans-androgyne , for starting a discussion for a change!

I know, it's a bit like nuclear armament. You can't just stop, because THEY won't, and then they win, and you can't allow that. It's life and death! And I don't have some magic pill to make it all go right, or believe me, I wouldn't sit here, typing this out at 3 in the morning Central European Time. But let me propose this: don't call it a war! Neither culture war, nor gender war, nor anything like that. Because this isn't a war. Just ask anyone in the middle east! They can tell you, what is war, and THIS IS NOT IT! And also, because it may not be guns and destruction yet, but nothing guarantees, that it stays that way. We already had multiple attempted takeovers of capital buildings since this cursed decade began, because our social reality became so fragmented, that you can't accept the results of a popular election anymore. That should raise alarm bells. I know it does, but it can be much worse! Learn from history, do not repeat it! Hit the Wiki page on the Huguenot war! On the siege of Magdeburg. Or, if that's not your cup of tea, watch Civil War! I genuinely think it's the best movie of the year.

Call it Social Discourse! That sounds much more manageable, doesn't it? Or you can come up with something else, as long as it isn't some warmongering bullshit. And maybe the next time you meet someone with sexist, homophobic, racist, or maybe radical left and anarchistic views (whatever you're opposing), don't attack them with your words! Those aren't weapons. Try to talk to them instead! Try talking about feelings! Listen to theirs, make them understand yours! I say feelings, because you both have those. Try finding a common ground, however small, and build up from there. Like Minecraft Skyblock. It can be hard in a challenging way, instead of making you want to shoot yourself in the head. Remember, you aren't fighting a war. You are having a discourse.

All of it is to say, the world and society are changing, wether you like it or not, and we have to change with it, to survive. That is the simple fact. If you call that change a war, that's just gonna make the whole thing unnecessarily painful for everyone involved.

This was sociopolitical advice from a giant armadillo.

Genuinely, what happened to “feminism is for everyone”?

That’s the feminism I grew up with: encouraging people to recognize that fighting sexism and restrictive gender roles helps folks of every gender. We’d push back on the idea that feminists hate men, pointing to inclusive feminist literature and how many men are feminists.

Now, there are so many people insisting that the solution to patriarchy is to openly hate and ostracize men no matter what. Why? What is the benefit? It’s certainly not effective in fighting oppressive structures to exclude half the population from your cause on the basis of immutable traits. It may feel cathartic to say horrible things about men and try to punish them for your frustrations with patriarchy. But the only actual effect I see is the increasing right-wing radicalization of young men, who are being told that the left hates them for the way they were born and presented with an abundance of proof that it’s true.

Why are we going back to treating men and women as different species? It doesn’t fix things to say “well women are the good gender and men are the bad one” this time. If you sincerely want to dismantle sexism, you’re going to have to unpack and let go of all sex and gender essentialism—even that which considers women inherently pure and men inherently immoral.

[arc-misadventures]

A Rebranding

Jaune: Jessica.

Jessica: Jaune...?Jaune! You're here! You're...? Uhhh... W-Who are you?

Coco: Hello.

Jessica: Hi...?

Jaune: Coco here is my partner...

Jessica: P-Partner...?

Jaune: Yes, she is my partner in the, 'Beacons Fashion Trio.'

Jessica: Oh thank gods... not that kind of partner...

Coco: Don't hold your breath love~!

Jessica: EEP?! Y-You head me?!

Jaune: We are here to judge your outfit, and render judgement upon you.

Jessica: J-Judgement...?

Coco: Yes, and be warned; Our judgement bares quite severe consequences...

Jessica: Consequences...? W-What kind of consequences...?

Jaune: Worry not... unless you have something to worry about...?

Jessica: N-N-No... I think...?

Jaune: The judgement begins... with, Jessica's current outfit...

Coco: ...

Jessica: Please have mercy...

Coco: ...

Coco: You look...

Jessica: EEEEEE!?!

Coco: So adorable!

Jessica: Wha...?

Coco: You look so adorable! Oh, I love the shades of greens, are complementized beautifully by the whites, and blacks! And, your hair! I love this shade of green in your hair it is fantastic! And, this mark around your eye! GODS! You are so adorable I could eat you up!

Jessica: W-Wha...?

Jaune: I told you you'd like her outfit. I didn't expect you to like it that much though.

Coco: It's fantastic! I have yet to see a terrible outfit! Why did you want me to judge this adorable hamster!

Jessica: H-Hamster?

Jaune: Well, I wanted you to see her outfit, and how cute, Jessica is...

Jessica: You think I'm cute~?

Jaune: But, I wanted you to judge her super hero 'outfit.'

Coco: Her what?'

Jessica: Oh, he's talking about this:

Coco: HISSSS!!!

Coco: What is that ungodly abomination?!

Jessica: W-What?

Coco: I see seven different styles clashing colours clashing?! Why would they dress you up like that?!

Jaune: Actually... The green ring thingy makes her outfit based on her thoughts... This... thing was her idea...

Coco: (GASP?!)

Coco: You made that thing yourself?!

Jessica: Y-Y-Yes...?

Coco: ...?!

Coco: BURN IT WITH FIRE! BURN HER ALONG WITH IT!!! CLEANSE THE UNIVERSE OF THIS ABOMINATION!!! NOW?!!?!?!

Jaune: Now now. Coco... We're not doing that. We're here to fix this... And, I have an idea how to fix this... Oi! Stop biting me!

Coco: Let me at her! Let me destroy the cute hamster!

Jaune: No. You'll be sad if you destroy the cute hamster. And, at potential fashion redesign... Probably more than that one...

Coco: Fashion redesign...?

Jaune: Yes... We can think of a new outfit for her to wear, one that isn't an ungodly abomination.

Coco: A non-ungodly abomination...

Jaune: And, I have a perfect idea for an outfit.

Coco: You do?

Jaune: Yes. This one...

Coco: ...?

Jessica: ...?

Jaune: So what do you two think of it?

Coco: ...

Jessica: ...

Coco: I love it!

Jessica: Its gorgeous!

Jaune: Ha, knew it.

Jessica: I can change my outfit right now!

Jessica: How do I look?! How do I look?!

Coco: OHH~! That's such an elegant outfit on you, Jessica! The colours compliment you so perfectly! I love it so much! You look beautiful!

Jessica: this is the coolest outfit I ever wore in my whole life! Everyone is going to be so jealous of my awesome style! Jaune thank you so much! This new outfit is amazing!

Coco: I agree with, Jessica, Jaune. That is a beautiful outfit. You've out done yourself.

Jaune: To be fair, anything is better than her previous outfit.

Coco: True. So, Jessica you up to celebrating a new outfit?

Jessica: Sure!

Jessica: ...

Jessica: How?

Coco: First: We strip, Jaune of his~!

Jaune: For a new outfit right?

Coco: (Wiggles eyebrows~!)

Jaune: For a new outfit right...?

Jessica: Let's do this!

Jaune: Oh no...

[kpopflowerfield]

Gimmie Love | jjk

ღ pairing: playboy! jungkook x desperate! fem reader

ღ word count: 5.7k

ღ genre: angst & smut

ღ rating: nsfw, mdni

ღ warnings: toxic relationship, pet names(babe,baby), dirty sex, dom! jk, needy sex, a bit of voyerism is involved (jk tries to finger reader in movie theater), unprotected sex! (wrap up), Jungkook calls reader ‘slut’ once, fingering, throat fucking, jk is sadistic and loves being a tease

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ summary: ex situationship comes back into your life and you can’t help but find yourself back in your old habits of begging to be loved for the right reasons

ღ author’s note: ty to @tusswrites for beta reading!!

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

You looked around, absentmindedly listening to your friends. "Ooh, he's hot," Your friend Mina cooed as she stared out. You looked over at the man she was drooling over. He was attractive, about six feet, with milky skin and chestnut hair. She didn't know his name, but it didn't matter as she wasn't interested in names. "What about him?" Kyujin nodded her head in the direction of someone. Tan skin, about the same height as the other one, and had beautiful black waves. You shrugged a bit; they were attractive but not enough for you to thirst over as the two of them did. "What about you, Y/N?" They both spoke at the same time, and you shrugged. "I don't really care; I mean, they're all a one-night stand." You scoped out the place, seeing who else was around.

Your heart dropped for a moment as you looked around the room. Your eye locked in on that familiar muscular back. The tattoos that traveled down from the sleeves of the shirt, hugging his skin, made your guess right. You forced a swallow down your tightening throat. "I have to go to the bathroom, watch my drink?" You barely made eye contact with Kyujin as you scurried off. You locked the door behind you and took a deep breath. You walked over to the sink and took a moment to process that he was here.

Your palms started to hurt from the way you were gripping the countertop. You shut your eyes as you thought about him. Of course, he was there, it was his friend, but you haven't seen him at the past few parties that you've attended. So why the fuck was this the night he came to the party? Your thoughts froze as there was a knock on the door. "One minute!" You called out, stretching out your hands from the tense state they took from the hold you had on the counter. You fixed your hair and unlocked the door, opening it carefully. "I thought I saw you," That voice sounded sweet, like honey, as you looked at him. "It's nice to see you too, Jungkook," You lied and made your way to your friends.

Your friends smiled. "You're back! I was about to go find you," Kyujin teased as you nodded. "I'm actually going to go home now, just wanted to let you guys know," You gave them each a quick hug. "It's so early, are you sure?" Mina questioned you as you nodded. "Yeah, I'm just tired and have stuff I need to do. I'll text you," You smiled at them and walked out, leaving both of them confused by your odd behavior. You made your way home, your hands curled into fists in your pockets as you stared down at the ground. You didn't have to walk too far before texting your friends that you made it home safely. You took off your jacket and sighed as you sat down on your couch. The notification came from your friends messaging you, and you clicked on it. Thanking them for going out with you.

That's when you went to put your phone down on the couch beside you but stopped seeing the drop-down notification from Instagram. You swallowed, getting that throat-tightening feeling like when you were at the party. You clicked on the message and scoffed, reading it.

Jungkook: It's been a while since I've seen you. You still look amazing. It was nice to see you.

You closed out the message and went to your room with the intention of going straight to bed, but you could only think of what you had with Jungkook once upon a time. The way he used to hold you close and how it made you feel protected. You would have late-night conversations about anything and everything. You honestly didn't realize it was one way until you confessed. He never felt the same way about you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he did. Even though some of his actions were romantic and he only expected you to be with him, he never could say he liked you the way you liked him. The word 'love' would only leave his lips when he was talking about how it felt to fuck you. You fell hard for him, but he never felt that way.

You sighed to yourself and checked the message one more time. Maybe one last message wouldn't hurt? You could make it different this time, making it clear you didn't want just sex. It was something you could never confess to your friends, but you missed the physical connection you had with him. You could find someone else, but it would take too long before you could consider being as intimate as you were with Jungkook. You knew him for years before you slept with him, and even though you hadn't seen him in a few years, your heart still beat the way it did when you were close to him and spending every moment with him. Maybe it was just your hopeless romantic brain trying to convince the logical side that told you he wasn't worth more of your time.

Y/N: nice to see you, too. Maybe we can meet up?

Jungkook: I'd like that; what would you like to do?

Y/N: We can do something simple. Maybe a movie?

Jungkook: Just tell me when I'll pick you up.

You solidified your plans with Jungkook and got ready. Your anxiety was on high alert as you got ready, realizing you were actually meeting up after time apart. You promised yourself you wouldn't see him again, but that was a year ago, and you swear on everything that it would be different this time around. You walked out your door once you got a text from him saying he was outside. Your mind was wiped from whatever it was that you wanted to say as you opened the door and got in. The smell of his sweet cologne hitting your nostrils. "So, what movie were you thinking of?" He looked over at you as he drove. "Oh," You tried to think of a movie he would want to see. "You can pick," You smiled over at him. "Alright," He laughed a bit. "What's so funny?" You huffed as he looked over at you. "You haven't changed," He smiled at you and parked.

Your cheeks flushed as he got out and opened your door. "Wow, what a gentleman," You teased him as he shook his head. "Yeah, yeah." He shut the door behind you as you walked into the theater. "Want any snacks, babe?" He nodded to the wall of snacks. Your cheeks flushed hearing that sudden name. "Just popcorn," You nodded as he walked over to the counter, paying for your small bucket of popcorn. You watched him and smiled as he handed it to you. "How much?" You asked him as he shrugged. "Nothing for you," You shook your head at him. Maybe it wasn't just sexual for him to make such playful comments. You had to take that idea out of your head; it was your first time hanging out together in a while, and you shouldn't automatically assume it's what you want. Maybe it was just sexual still, but how could you tell? The two of you definitely did have a connection, but it was hard to put a label on it. You just knew that you missed it, and you were beyond grateful that you finally had a chance to rebuild it.

You both made it to the theater and sat down. Once the movie started to play, his hand crept up your thigh as you sat next to each other. His fingers were playing with the end of your skirt. Your face turned a bright red from the heat that spread. You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to stop him, but it was hard to fight it. His touch made your body warm up as he played with the lace material of your panties. He could feel the way your body was reacting and smirked. Your breath hitched as he moved your panties to the side and felt your wet slit, moving his finger up slowly. He leaned over to whisper in your ear. "You're soaked, and I haven't even played with you yet," He chuckled as you whimpered from his touch. He went to continue, and you held his arm, restraining him from going further. "I don't want to get caught," You stared at him as he shook his head. "You won't,"

You still held his arm and shook your head. "Not here," He nodded and moved his hand away from you. "Alright," He suddenly sounded annoyed with you, and you looked down, finding something else to focus on as your mind was racing once you realized his demeanor changed. The awkward tension stayed between the two of you for the rest of the movie. "Do you want me to drive you home?" He looked at you. You knew he was asking so he could most likely continue what he tried to start. You shook your head and smiled. "I have plans with my friends; I can have one of them pick me up," He nodded as you walked out of the theater. "Thank you for taking me out," You smiled at him as he nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Anytime,"

You sighed as he left and found a bench in the lobby to sit on. You called Mina, asking her for a ride and she showed up within a few minutes, and you got in her car. "How did you get here?" She couldn't help but question you immediately. "I came here with someone, but I didn't want to burden them." You shrugged as she sighed. "You wouldn't be burdening them if it was a date, you know that, right?" You nodded as she looked at you. "Who was your date?" She could sense how awkward you were with her question. "Don't tell me it was him," There was disappointment laced in her voice as you shrugged a bit. "Yeah, it was. I had a good time, though," She sighed at you again. "I thought he just wanted sex," She parked and stared at you. You fell silent as she watched you stare at your lap. "Listen, if it's what you want, I don't care, but I know you want a deeper relationship than what he has to offer."

You nodded and got out of her car. "Kyujin is upstairs; we're ordering some food, too." She got out after as you both walked up to her apartment. "Wowww, look how dressed up you are," Kyujin commented as you flushed lightly. "Where'd you go?" She questioned, seeing your skirt and makeup done. "She went out with Jungkook again," Mina spoke up; she sounded like a disappointed parent coming home to tell the other parent what they did wrong. Kyujin's face changed quickly. "Don't tell me that's true, Y/N," You shrugged her off and sat down on the couch. "Come on, Y/N, last time you went out with him, you were upset for weeks. You confessed, and he told you he wasn't interested like that, and you were heartbroken." Kyujin stared at you, along with Mina. "Guys, I know what I'm doing. I'm being more careful this time, and I won't get hurt. I promise," Your reassurance wasn't enough for them, but they didn't want to press anymore. They just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with you.

Even though it seemed weird with your friends, you could tell it wasn't with malice but care for you. They didn't want to see you hurt again, and you understood that. That's why you were going to make it clear to Jungkook that nothing is going to be just sex. That's why when he messaged you at 11:30 the next night, you weren't opposed to saying yes. You showered and got yourself ready. Your nerves started to rack up as you drove to his. You started to plan the words that you wanted to say. Just wanting to get it out there immediately instead of waiting and letting yourself get hurt.

You walked up the steps of his apartment building and knocked lightly on his door. He opened the door after a few moments and let you in. "I'm so glad that you came over," His voice was so sweet, making your heart melt. The way he was dressed, however, made your brain flood with other ideas. The grey sweats hanging loosely on his bare hips. You tried to keep your composure as much as you could, not wanting to stare at his body for too long. "I'm glad you asked for me to come over," You smiled and walked over to his couch. "I actually wanted to say something." You started as he shushed you. "Afterwards," He looked at you; his eyes were filled with lust seconds after you walked in the door. You swallowed, remembering that dark look he always had. You closed your legs tightly together, not wanting to get too turned on just by his look.

"I've missed you," His voice was raspy as you laid down, letting him crawl on top of you and leave soft kisses on your neck. He could feel the way your core was heating up below him. His kisses continued to travel down until he hit the neckline of your clothing. His hand pushed up the loose tee shirt you had on. You let out a sharp exhale at his cold hands traveling up your sides. "Let's take this off," He slid his hands under your shirt as you sat up slightly, allowing him to strip you of your shirt and bra. Goosebumps spread across your skin from the cool air of his apartment. "How about I warm you up?" He smirked down at you; you couldn't resist nodding as you swallowed. The ache between your thighs grew as you saw his thick cock growing in his pants.

He took off your pants and moved your panties to the side. "I should finish what I started the other day," His finger teased your slit, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt him. The feeling of his rough fingers sent shivers down your spine as he pushed his finger in. "I've missed the way this pussy grips my fingers," He smirked as he curled his fingers, making you cry out in pleasure. "So loud already," He chuckled. You whimpered as his fingers moved quickly, pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt. "J-Jungkook," A soft moan escaped your lips as he hovered above you. He pulled his fingers out and smirked, sucking them clean of your juices.

You watched him intently, your cheeks flushed as he hovered above you. God, he looked better than you remembered. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, pulling him in closer to you as he leaned down. Your bodies lay flush together as he kissed that sweet spot on your neck, biting down lightly. You let out a breathless moan as he left open-mouthed kisses down your neck. "I can't wait to fuck you any longer," He rasped and pushed his pants down and looked at you, giving himself a few strokes before pulling your panties to the side again.

He held one of your hips, letting it travel to your lower back, and lifted you so he could push himself deep inside of you slowly and inch by inch. Watching as your face started to contort from the feeling of him being inside again. "God, I've missed this fucking pussy," He groaned as your walls adjusted to the familiar girth. He held your hips close to his as he moved slowly, the rhythmic deep thrusts making you moan out. "F-fuck me," You pleaded as he raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that what I'm already doing?" He started to get a bit rougher, and you cried out. "Is this what you want? You want it faster?" He stared down at you, watching your chest bounce with each slow, brutal thrust. He bit his lip, teasing the way he fucked you.

"F-faster, please," You pleaded as he chuckled. "Look at you being a greedy slut," He gripped your hips as he picked up an unrelenting pace. You cried out as he didn't back down from the pace he had started. "Is this what you wanted?" He taunted as his hips jackhammered into yours. You couldn't give a response as you sobbed out from each thrust slamming into your hips. Your back arched as your walls gripped tightly around him. "Fuck yes, baby," He grunted. "You take this fucking cock so well," He tilted his head back and moaned. "I'm gonna fucking paint you all over," He hissed as his thrusts became more needy and not as rhythmic. "Y-you fuck me so fucking good," You sputtered, your walls spasming against him.

"I-I'm going to cum," You sobbed as your chest bounced up and down. "Do it," He demanded, sending shivers down your spine. He slammed into your hips, sending you over the edge. His cock twitched against your walls before he pulled out quickly, emptying himself on your stomach. Your lower body shook as he got off of you. He grabbed a box from the coffee table and handed it to you. "Here," your brain was clouded as he looked at you, shaking the box of tissues in your face. You grabbed a handful, and he tossed the box back onto the table.

You watched him pull his pants back up and walk to the kitchen as you wiped yourself off. Placing the dirty tissues on the table as he walked back. "Here," He handed you a water as you took it. "Thanks," You smiled softly, sitting up and taking a sip from the bottle. "Are you busy tomorrow?" You looked over as he shrugged. "Not really." You nodded a bit at his response. "Well, if you wanted to, we could go grab lunch or maybe some dinner?" You held the bottle in your lap. "Maybe." You bit your lip at his bland response. "Well, text me if you think of anything." You smiled at him. "Yep." Sensing the cold shoulder he was giving you, you put the water on the coffee table and collected your clothes, dressing yourself quickly. "I'm gonna go now," You cleared your throat, taking the water bottle with you as you walked out. "Have a good night," He said as you shut the door behind you.

You held your head and sat in your car for a moment. You didn't know why you put yourself in this situation again, and it was pissing you off. You thought, then called Kyujin. "Hey, can I come over?" You sounded tired. "Yeah, of course. Mina is over right now, too," She answered brightly. "I'll be there in ten," You drove off. "Drive safe, pookie!" Mina called out in the background as you laughed and hung up.

You walked upstairs and opened the door to her apartment. You walked over and flopped down on the couch. "What's wrong?" Mina's eyebrows furrowed as you reached over and grabbed the carton of ice cream Kyujin was holding. "You guys were right," You held the spoon and took a bite. Mina sighed and pulled you in close to her. "I'm sorry, Y/N," She rubbed your shoulders. "I just went over, and y'know," Your cheeks flushed; you were always awkward talking about sex. "But as soon as he finished, he stood up and walked away. He came back with water, but still, I tried to have a conversation, and he just ignored me; he clearly didn't want to talk to me." You took another bite as Kyujin joined in and embraced you. "I have to call it quits now; I know if I don't, I'll just get hurt." Kyujin nodded. "I know, and I know that you feel comfortable with him, but we care for you too much to see you get hurt by the same guy again,"

It hurt to hear the truth, but you needed it. You couldn't text him to tell him it was over, so instead, you ghosted him, and you let a week go by, and he never messaged you. It felt a bit too smooth, but you didn't want to jinx it. You felt so much better not stressing yourself out about him and feeling like you needed him to see you in another way than just sexual. Your friends were also proud of you for not talking to him again. They just knew your heart and how hard and fast you fall for someone. They hated Jungkook for how he hurt you last time, and they never wanted to see it again; they knew it was hard for you to leave the idea of being with him, and deep down, they knew it probably wasn't the last time he broke your heart.

And just like that, you knew you spoke too soon. Your phone buzzed, and there was his profile picture on your lock screen. You tapped on it, seeing he was inviting you over yet again. You bit your lip and thought about it. You did want to talk to him in person, explain your feelings, and tell him that sex isn't the only thing you want. You gave in on the chance and sent him a text, agreeing to see each other.

You got yourself ready and got in your car to drive to his place. You took a deep breath and practiced what you wanted to say to him as you drove. Once you knocked on that door, your eyes laid upon the sight of Jungkook whisking away your thoughts. Just standing there in a towel, letting you come in. You watched him as he walked to his bedroom. He didn't utter a word, but you followed him. You watched as he dropped his towel on the ground. You stared at every inch of his body, taking him in.

The words you had set up for you to say were no longer there. "Get on your knees for me, baby," You nodded, listening to everything he told you. You carefully got on your knees; the soft faux fur rug kept you away from the discomfort of the hardwood floors. You watched as he stroked his length, making it easier for you to suck on. You watched him reach for your hand, and you gave it to him. He placed it near the base of his cock as you took over for him. His head tilted back as he felt you. You looked up at him, parting your lips and taking his thick tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He looked down at you, staring into your eyes. You bobbed up and down slowly, not wanting to choke on him. Your cheeks hollowed against him, making a groan escape his lips. "Fuck Y/N," He bit his lip as you locked eyes with him.

He watched you. "You can go faster, babe," He instructed. You hesitated, not sure how fast you could move on him. "Want help?" He taunted; before you could really process what he said, he wrapped his fingers in your hair and started moving your head on him. "Mm," He groaned out, followed by a shattered breath. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat, but that didn't stop him as he kept moving your head on him. "God, I love your pretty mouth," He groaned. Your eyes watered from each hard thrust into your mouth. Your hand quickly grabbed his thighs, making him stop as he looked down at you. "Are you okay?" He moved himself away from you as you panted, finally being able to breathe for a moment.

"I wanted to talk," You let out softly as he groaned. "Seriously?! That's why you stopped?" His anger was bubbling as you swallowed; it hurt for a moment from the aggression your throat had felt just moments ago. "Yes, that's why I came over in the first place. You saying 'you loved my mouth' reminded me." Your voice was still quiet as he shook his head at you. "You're unbelievable," He groaned. "No, I'm not! I'm tired of coming over here and being used! I never say anything cause I don't want to lose the friendship we had when we first started!" You defended yourself. "Used?! You seem to be enjoying it just as much as I do." He scoffed. "Stop. I just wanted to fucking talk to Jungkook. I wanted to tell you I don't want this just to be sex. That's what it's been the last two times. I want a relationship."

You stayed calm as you spoke, watching him grab a pair of boxers. "Like last time?" He stared daggers into you, sending shivers down your spine. "Yes! That's all I have fucking wanted," You sounded exhausted as you spoke. "What don't you get?! I don't want that! You could've said that at the movies if that's how you truly felt. Fucking hell, Y/N," He was loud as you stared at him. "If you can't have an honest-to-God conversation with me, then I'm leaving," It was an open threat; you still wanted to talk with him and didn't think he would give in. "Go right ahead!" He barked.

You stared at him, not sure why you were surprised about his reaction. You weren't going to take it back, though. You walked out his door, slamming it behind you. Tears fell as you got into your car. "I'm so fucking stupid," You sniffed. Your hands hit the steering wheel as your body tense from the frustration of the situation you put yourself into again. You sat there, staring into space, calming down before you drove off.

Your argument must've scared him off as you didn't hear from him for almost a month. It still made you upset when you thought about him. He used to be so kind, and you would stay up for hours having conversations. Then, it suddenly turned into sex with him. You both got curious and let him take your virginity as you took his. Maybe that's why you were trying to hold onto him so close. You gave him something that you planned to keep. You trusted him enough to take it, expecting him to stay with you and take your friendship to the next level, but he clearly can't give you what you want anymore.

You checked your phone constantly, with empty hopes of him texting you to apologize. You felt shameful every time you checked. All wrapped up in your feelings, you didn't realize you were ignoring your friends until they texted you in the group chat.

Mina: Hey, are you okay, hun? We haven't heard from you in a bit.

Kyujin: If you want, we can come over, or you can just talk to us whenever you're ready. ❤️

Y/N: yeah, I'm okay. Jungkook and I officially ended it. It was just a big argument that happened, but it's fine. I'm sorry I haven't reached out.

Mina: I'm glad you're okay. We're always here for you, babes. I know it sucks, but trust me, it's for the better that it's over.

Kyujin: Dude was a dickhead. I'm happy you have him out of your life now, Y/N.

You laughed a bit at Kyujin's remarks. She always spoke her mind, which you loved about her. You knew she was the person you went to if you wanted honesty, and Mina was always there to comfort you.

Mina: Yeah, he was such a bitch. He was only horny and didn't care about feelings, which is so stupid of him. You're the sweetest person I know, Y/N, and he wasn't good enough to learn that.

You smiled to yourself at everything your friends had to say. You regret not telling them earlier, but you felt like you still needed some time to process it. It was actually over with Jungkook, which was something you weren't sure would happen. Everything was running smoother than the week that went in between last time. Your phone buzzed on your kitchen counter, and you picked it up.

Unknown number: Hey, I'm sorry for texting you like this out of nowhere. I really want to talk. I don't know if you'd want to meet up, but maybe you can call me? I just need to talk to you and actually explain my feelings. I'm really sorry.

You stared at the text, realizing it was Jungkook. You wanted to give in so desperately. Maybe for some better closure, and that's all. But that voice in your head kept telling you no. All you could think of was how disappointed your friends would be if they knew you were in contact with him again. You turned your phone over and walked to your bedroom. Every little thing you were trying to do wasn't enough of a distraction from Jungkook's sudden text. You wanted to be better than you were and not text him. You picked up your phone and stared at the message again.

Y/N: You can call me whenever you'd like. I'm not willing to meet up with you.

"Why did I do that?" You mumbled and sighed, not expecting him to call since it wasn't in person. He wouldn't have a chance to change the conversation into much more over the phone when you could hang up on him if he were being too much. Your phone buzzed, and you picked up. "Hello?" You answered as you heard Jungkook take a deep breath. "Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry to reach out so far after everything," You could hear the way he was pacing through his apartment. "What did you want to talk about?" You questioned him, wanting to get straight to the point. "I wanted to apologize for snapping at you. I should've told you then, but I just didn't consider a relationship with you. I have been thinking it over, though," He swallowed. "I would like to have a relationship with you, Y/N. If you're still willing," He cleared his throat as you stayed silent. He pulled his phone away from his ear and put it back. “Y/N?” He questioned.

"Yeah, sorry. Just processing," You swallowed. "Why have you suddenly changed your mind? Last time we spoke, you made it clear you only wanted sex." You held your forehead, rubbing your temples. Your heart felt torn hearing him finally say he did want to be with you. "I do like you, Y/N. I've just been too busy focusing on the fun and not feelings. I'm so sorry for how I've treated you." The sudden 180° change left you confused, and you took a deep breath. "Listen, Jungkook. I thank you for the apology. But that's all you'll get from me. I'm not going to put up with this back and forth. Today, you say you want to be in a relationship, but two weeks from now, you'll tell me you aren't interested at all." You pursed your lips together, trying to think of anything else you had to say.

"Please, Y/N, one chance. Let me make it up to you," He begged as you scoffed. "You've had two chances, Jungkook. I don't know how many more I can give you. You can try again in six months if you’re serious. You just can't have sex on your mind when you contact me next." You hung up and tossed your phone on the couch. It hurt to finally shut him down, especially when he sounded interested in something more with you. Tears slowly went down your face as you lay down in bed. "Thank god for closure," You mumbled before turning over.

5 months later

Even though it wasn’t a “break-up” breakup it took you a while to recuperate yourself. It was hard to move on from someone you spent years talking to. Even though it was one-sided he felt like your first love. Your friends kept pushing for you to get out more, encouraging you to speak to people they felt would be a good pairing for you.

You always told them you would reach out but you never did, it felt forced to you if you reached out after your friends begged you to. You wanted to find someone yourself. You made sure to leave your apartment often, just to go on walks and see what was around as businesses were opening left and right. That’s when you saw Hoseok just staging bouquets outside of his flower shop. You knew you had to introduce yourself. Hitting it off with him was easy. He took you out to dinner and always brought home custom bouquets of your favorite flowers for you. He was the man you’ve been dreaming of all these years. Even with all the heartbreak you put yourself through with Jungkook, you didn’t regret it if that was meant to happen for your path to Hoseok.

“Hey baby?” He called out to you. “Yes, my love?” You looked over at him as he fixed the sleeves on his buttoned linen shirt. “I have to stop by the shop, did you want to come with me? We could stop for a nice lunch too.” You nodded quickly and he smiled, watching as you changed into one of the many sundresses he’s bought you. He smiled, seeing you fix your necklace in the mirror and wrapped his arms around your back. “You’re so beautiful,” He cooed as you flushed.

You walked with him hand in hand to his store. “Y/N?” You heard that desperate voice and turned around. You realized it was Jungkook and turned back around. Hoseok noticed your reaction, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Who is that?” He questioned as you shook your head. “No one,” He raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly not believing you. “Seriously hobi, it’s no one,” You smiled as he nodded,kissing your nose as Jungkook watched you walk away, realizing he actually let you go.

[mooshkat]

i haven't watched the episode. don't really care to. but apparently eddie is looking at houses in el paso?? and i've always related way too much to buck and the way people in his life leave so much so.

listening to 'please don't go' by abbey glover while writing this is devastating btw. highly recommend to add to the hurt.

tw for suicide attempt.

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and then just...doesn't go home. He doesn't think as he drives, taking turns and just alert enough to be safe on the road, but honestly? He has no fucking idea how he ends up in the mountains, parking in the small dirt lot at the end of the hiking trail.

Everything feels numb. Static fills his brain and spreads down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

He turns off the Jeep and takes out the keys. Drops them carelessly into the cup holder.

He should've seen this coming, right? People leave; they always have, and always will. Everyone from his own sister to his ex-girlfriends, and his ex-boyfriend. Now his best friend.

There's just something buried deep into his very being, something built into the coding for Evan Buckley, that makes people leave him. No matter how much he clings and wants to fight for it, they'll walk away from him and his love.

It's him, it has to be.

Buck leaves behind his wallet, his keys, his work bag. Everything is left in the Jeep except for his phone, because no matter how much people leave him with barely a goodbye, it goes against everything that makes Buck, well, Buck to do it himself.

He knows this trail. Tommy and he have been on it before, once or twice after Buck dragged him along with him. They'd stopped at the top, where a small cliff overlooks the beautiful scenery with LA off in the far distance.

He remembers the way Tommy pushed him against a tree and sank to his knees, looking up at Buck with an adorable, bright grin with scrunches up his nose. Buck misses that grin fiercely.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Buck starts his walk. He doesn't go up the mountain with a specific plan in mind, didn't wake up to take Eddie to the airport at four in the morning, and think I'm going to kill myself today, but the higher he gets on the trail, the more he knows.

It's early enough that he has the trail to himself. That's good. It's not, he needs to turn around and go back to the Jeep, go home but his feet keep moving him up, up, up. There's nobody around who will have to see what he's about to do and be traumatized by it.

He's seen more than his share of deaths through work, he knows how badly it can fuck you up. He doesn't want to do that to someone else.

When he gets to the top, Buck stops and just breathes. The air is fresher up here, cleaner. It makes some of the buzzing in his head quiet down. He can feel his fingers again, feel the way his heart pounds from the cardio workout of climbing, and make his hands throb.

He walks to the edge of the cliff and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. There's a boulder a few feet away from the edge that holds memories of him leaning back against it as Tommy kisses him, holding Buck's hips with hands hot enough to brand him.

His very soul feels branded by Tommy. His chest aches every day, making his stomach sink with a homesick feeling he hasn't had since before he moved to LA. His apartment is still full of the baked goods that he creates every time he has to try to not call or text him.

He doesn't stop himself from calling him today.

Buck almost thinks it's going to go to voicemail before it's picked up at the last second.

"...Go for Kinard?" Tommy answers, clearing his throat. His voice is sleep-rough and deep, and Buck hasn't heard it in so long that it's like applying balm to very shattered, torn edges of a wound. "Hello? Who is–Ev—Buck?"

"Did I ever tell you," Buck starts, and he sounds just as rough, but he's more awake than he ever has been, despite the bone deep tiredness that fills him, "about the fact that I was made to be a savior baby for a brother I never met? My parents made me in a science tube so that they could use my bone marrow to heal my brother, Daniel, but it didn't work. I thought for a little while after I found out that it was because I was defective, but I get it now."

Sheets rustle on the other line before Tommy sits up again. "What are you talking about, Evan? What's wrong?"

Buck continues talking, bowling over Tommy's questions like he didn't hear them. "I think there's something inside of me that's toxic. Toxins drive people away, it makes them sick, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense for why everybody I love gets sick of me and leaves. It has to be me, right? Nobody stays, not forever. There's something wrong with me and I've finally figured it out."

"No, Evan," Tommy says, voice soft. He can hear the concern, though, the urgency hidden under his tone. There's the sound of jingling keys and a door opening and closing. Tommy's too far away to stop him.

"Sometimes, people leave. It's just what they do, it is nothing about you or what you've done. It's them. Their problems. My problems, that we should–we should sit down and talk about. Evan, where are you? I'm worried."

He almost doesn't want to tell him, but maybe it'd be better for someone to come out and collect his body so he doesn't ruin the trail. Leave it as you found it, or whatever. He gives Tommy his location and ignores the way it starts a mental countdown in the back of his mind. He doesn't have long now.

"It is me, Tommy. I want to believe you, but I can't. Not when hard evidence for almost my entire fucking life says otherwise. My parents emotionally left before I was even born. Maddie. Abby. Other girlfriends. I even lost the 118 at one point–thanks to that stupid mistake with the lawyer. Everybody leaves. And–and now with you, and Eddie. I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so goddamn tired."

Tears drip down Buck's cheeks. It's exhausting, viewing every relationship as a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, waiting for them to exit left out of his life. He thought things might be different with Tommy, it was one of his longest relationships, but he was wrong.

"You know, when you broke up with me that night, you said you'd be my first, but not my last. You were wrong. I-I love you so much, Tommy, even though you broke my heart. I hate you for leaving just like everyone else, but I also love you. You'll always be my first and last now. It's my turn to leave."

"Evan!" Tommy shouts into the phone and Buck cringes. "Evan, please, don't do anything. I'm on my way, okay, baby? Please just sit still and wait for me and we can talk–about everything. Please."

It'd be so easy to lean forward and let gravity do the work to drag him off the edge. The side of the cliff digs into the bottom of his thighs and he kicks his feet, knocking against some of the dirt and watching it tumble down.

His phone starts buzzing insistently in his hand with texts. Tommy must have sent out a message. He doesn't look at any of them as he pulls his phone to set it on Do Not Disturb before putting it to his ear again.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants the hurt to stop, he just wants it all to stop, but he's afraid. What if he's too weak to commit? Just like he's too weak to not let people back into his life, even if he knows they'll just leave again.

Weak and toxic.

He drops his phone onto his lap and hunches down, elbows pressing into his knees as he covers his face. He can hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

A strangled sob rips its way from his throat and he makes his decision.

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

There's an audible sigh of relief from Tommy. "Thank you, Evan. I'll be right there, okay? Keep talking to me, baby."

He doesn't know what to say anymore and tells Tommy as much.

"That's okay, Evan. I-I heard from Howie that you were baking lately? What have you been baking?"

Buck knows what's Tommy's doing. He's stalling so that Buck doesn't kill himself before Tommy and the first responders can get to him. He's done it dozens of times before to people on the edge while he's rescuing them.

"A lot of bread, really. Pumpkin bread, banana bread, butternut squash. I even, uh, have a sourdough starter that I've been feeding for a couple of weeks now. I named it Billy because it looks sometimes just like the, uh, boils I got from the curse when it expands."

Tommy lets out a watery laugh. "Of course, you'd name your sourdough starter." He clears his throat and the sirens are suddenly much louder in Buck's ears before they cut off abruptly. Quiet, rushed talking that Buck doesn't understand before Tommy starts running. "What else?"

"I made baked Alaska pretty soon after we broke up. It took me hours to make, and the entire time it was setting in the freezer, I had to bake other things to stop myself from calling you. I-I don't know if Chim told you that's why I started baking, but it is."

When Tommy responds, it's not through the phone. He comes to a stop beside him. "It sounds like your coping mechanism was more productive than mine, at least. Want to get away from the edge for me, Evan?"

He holds out his hand and Buck takes it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, yeah? What was yours?" The knowledge that Tommy was moping just as bad as Buck makes him feel...something.

"Eating entire pints of ice cream by myself on the couch while watching rom-coms." Tommy pulls Buck to his feet and wraps his arms tight around him. Buck can feel how badly Tommy is shaking. "Thank god you're okay. Thank you so much for calling me, Evan. Fuck."

Buck hugs him back and ignores the paramedics lingering behind him. He knows he's going to be taken away in the ambulance and put under a 72-hour hold because of this. He doesn't think about that, or what it means for his job when he's let out.

He focuses on Tommy and the way he clings to him. He came back. Sure, maybe he'll leave again when the initial scare of everything fades away, but it's more than most people have done in the past.

Tommy pulls away first and holds Buck's face gently in his hands. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and more spill over as he looks Buck over. "I love you too. I didn't say it earlier and didn't say it then, but I am now. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.

It doesn't fix everything, doesn't even scratch the surface, but it raises something dangerous in Buck's chest.

Hope.

[magicalrocketships]

pretty much every day i just think abt small!max saying "daniel, my daniel" when he sees dan. it's with me forever!! ok that's all

Okay, this awakened something in me, and I've missed Go Small! Max. Thank you, anon!

All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here.

Five times Max calls Daniel ‘my Daniel’ (and one other time)

One. 

"No," Max says politely but with zero room for negotiation. "I don't want that."

That is a plate of sandwiches that look decidedly soggy, oil softened vegetables leaking out of a thickly sliced sourdough. 

Daniel looks up at the waiter. "Could you do some sliced bread and butter instead?" he asks, moving Max's plate out from in front of him. He finds room for it on the table next to him and opens up the sandwiches, starting to scrape the vegetables out onto the plate. In hindsight, it was a bad order. He'd seen the tomatoes and thought that Max might like them. 

The waiter comes back over with two slices of bread and a pat of butter; Daniel makes yet more room on the table to butter the bread and cut it into halves, then deposits it in front of Max. He goes back to scraping the mediterranean vegetables out of the sandwich, dumps the bread on his plate, then starts to pull out the tomatoes so that they're separate from the rest of the vegetables. He offers the plate to Max, who stares at it dubiously. 

"You like tomatoes," Daniel says. 

"Hmm," Max says. 

Daniel doesn't force him. He sets the plate down and shows Max his fork in case he wants to try anything, then eats his own pesto chicken on toasted sourdough. 

Max picks at his bread and butter, then after eating a piece, he uses his fork to carefully eat two little roasted tomatoes. He clearly considers this enough vitamins and nutrients for this meal, and goes back to his bread and butter. He does, however, drink his apple juice. 

"Is the bread nice?" Daniel asks. His sandwich is decidedly mediocre. 

Max considers. "Yes," he says finally. "Thank you, my Daniel."

Something inside of Daniel's chest shifts. He's changed forever. 

"Good," he says, his voice catching. "I'm glad."

&&&

Two. 

Max hasn't wet the bed in weeks. The nightlights had finally managed to turn frequent into infrequent into barely ever. 

Barely ever isn't not ever, though. Daniel's woken up by an insistent little hand on his shoulder. "My Daniel," Max says, sniffling. 

Daniel blinks away sleep. "What's up?"

"The bed's wet," Max says. 

Daniel sits up. "That's okay, Maxy-Max," he says. "That's okay. Nobody's mad."

Max sucks in a ragged, tearful breath. 

Daniel kisses Max's flushed forehead. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

Max tucks his hand into Daniel's, sleepy and tearful, and holds on. 

&&&

Three. 

"I didn't know where you were," Max says reprovingly, once he's discovered Daniel face down on the sofa, snoring into a Pokemon cushion with the TV on low, and poked him awake. "There's no breakfast bowl."

That is a reprimand. The rule is, no TV before breakfast. TV is allowed with breakfast, but the new rule came into force last week when Max refused to eat anything because he wanted to watch Detective Pikachu through to the end even though his tummy was rumbling. So: no TV before breakfast. 

Daniel didn't go to sleep until after four, though, and he's only out here in the living room because he'd finally got bored of watching the time tick by on his sunrise alarm clock and had resigned himself to pulling an all-nighter. He'd come out here to drink coffee and watch whatever he could find on TV in the middle of the night, then had promptly passed out eight minutes into an old episode of Friends. 

"You have to turn the TV off," Max repeats. 

Daniel obliges. He still feels mostly asleep. He rubs his fists into his eyes. 

"Hmm," Max says. 

"I didn't sleep very well," Daniel says. He doesn't look at his watch but Max likes to be awake pretty early. As an adult Max likes to sleep late, but kid Max doesn't feel the same way. Consequently, Daniel's life has flipped to an early bird timetable. His body hasn't quite caught up, though, and there have always been nights where he's stared at the ceiling for far too many hours. "Might have to be careful with me today, champ." He does finger guns to try and make it cool, but he's just tired. 

Max blinks at him. "Okay, my Daniel." He turns on his heel and disappears out of the living room, before coming back in clutching Pikachu. "You can hug Pikachu," he says. There's a pause. "Can we have breakfast now?"

Daniel laughs. "Sure can," he says, wrapping an arm around Pikachu's round middle. "What are we having today? Would monsieur like a fish? An omelette?" He does his silliest French accent. It's very bad. Max laughs. He always has the exact same breakfast. Max likes cereal. Cereal, and his milk in his own special jug. He won't entertain anything else. "A croissant, Max? A fried egg? Un oeuf?"

"No, no, no," Max says. "Cereal, please."

"Coming right up, monsieur," Daniel says, and as Max pads into the kitchen in his pyjamas, Daniel's heart skips a little soft beat. 

&&&

Four. 

"Daniel, my Daniel," Max calls, barely even waiting for Daniel to get out of the car. Daniel's been into the village to get fresh bread for lunch, and he's come back with wine for him and his parents, a few bits and pieces his dad had wanted for their dinner that evening, and a new bat and ball game for if Max can be tempted out of the pool for any significant period of time. 

Daniel grabs the bags. "Maxy-Max," he calls back, finishing off with his best camel impression just to make him laugh. He wanders around to the back of the house to the pool, where his mum and dad are — predictably — in the water with Max. "Mum, Dad. Everyone present and correct, I see."

"Watch me," Max tells him, clambering out of the pool and getting water everywhere. "Look what I can do now!" 

"I'm watching," Daniel says. 

He watches Max sit down on the edge of the pool with his feet in the water. He puts his hands above his head, shaped like he's going to dive, and Daniel knows what he's going to see. This is how he got taught to go into the water face first. His parents taught him and now they're teaching Max. 

Max tilts forward and forward until he's going into the water in a little seated dive. He emerges from the water, beaming, to Daniel's mum and dad clapping him, and Daniel cheering. Max swims over to the steps, and Daniel's waiting for him at the top of them. He gets a very wet and very excited hug. 

"Did you see?" Max asks. 

"I saw," Daniel says. He blinks away tears. He doesn't know why he's crying. "I saw, and you were brilliant."

"Good," Max says solidly, and follows Daniel inside, little wet footprints all the way after him. 

&&&

Five. 

Max is three. He's sleepy and full, a solid little lump in Daniel's lap. He's demanded three stories already before bed tonight, and Daniel's accommodating because in the morning this little version of Max might be gone. Daniel might get his seven year old Max back, or he might wake up to an empty bed and two missing cats, and Max having left to pick his life back up. 

Daniel kisses the top of Max's head. "This is the last story," he says, but he'll probably stretch it out until Max falls asleep right where he's sitting. There's no rush, anyway. There's nothing for either of them to do with their days. He turns the pages in their little book about kittens.

"My Daniel," Max says sleepily, a little garbled around his thumb. He sucks his thumb when he's three, and Daniel hasn't any interest in stopping him. He'll let Max have anything he finds comforting. He deserves the little kindnesses. 

"My Max," Daniel says softly. Max is falling asleep in his arms, his eyes drooping. It's time to put him to bed. "Time for sleep, my little Max. Time for bed."

Max is asleep by the time Daniel's carried him through into the bedroom. He doesn't stir as Daniel tucks him in, as he makes sure the nightlights are all turned on and that Pikachu's in easy reach. 

He stands in the doorway for a long time before he turns away. 

&&&

(And Another Time)

Daniel is so, so tired. His body feels heavy. His mum had gone with him to the doctor's yesterday, and they'd stopped at a pharmacy on the way home to pick up his new pills. She'd brought him a glass of water and a plate of crackers to have with the first dose. He'd downed them all obediently. 

They're not magic. He's not woken up this morning feeling happy again, or like his chest is more than the black, sucking hole where his heart used to be. 

He doesn't open his eyes. A tear escapes without his permission. He hates this. He hates feeling like he does right now, hates the nothingness, the weight of his body against the earth. 

"Hey, Daniel, my Daniel." It's Max, sleeping next to him for the fourth night in a row. He's big but he hasn't left. He always leaves but this time he hasn't. He's still here. He strokes Daniel's hair. "It is okay. I am here and your mum's here. We will make it all all right again. I promise, Daniel. You don't need to cry." He strokes his thumb under Daniel's eye, catching Daniel's stray tears. He wipes his thumb on the sheets then curls his hand into Daniel's. He laces their fingers together. "We've got you."

And Daniel, desperate, holds on. 

&&&

(thank you to Lin @andwegogreen for reading these as I wrote them tonight 🧡🧡🧡)

[punksyeet]

ᰔᩚ Confessions ᰔᩚ

Plot: Gianna (OC) has been split from her ex for two years now. He drops their daughter off from visits with him every weekend, but this one ends a bit differently.

Warning: Talks of smut & hefty flirting!

"Mommy!" my daughter calls out excitedly, hopping out of my ex Joshua's car as soon as he parks.

I crouch down and she runs straight into my arms, to which I respond with a tight hug.

"Hi baby!" I reply excitedly, before kissing her cheek. "How was your time with daddy?"

"It was so much fun!" she replies, looking up at me. "We baked cookies and watched all the Barbie movies."

I chuckle and look up at him, still responding to her. "Sounds like you guys had a blast. I'm sorry I missed it."

He responds with a soft smile on his face - the same gorgeous smile I fell in love with all those years ago.

For context, Josh and I were together for 6 years and have been seperated for 2.

We started dating at the ages of 19 and 23, so naturally, some stupid decisions were made - one of which, lead to our daughter Jalina.

As big of a mistake as it was at the time, becoming a mom has changed my life for the better.

And my love for her somehow grows more and more every day.

She has all of her dad's features: his curly dark hair, big chocolate brown eyes, perfectly round nose, full lips that turn into a gorgeous smile, and even the exact caramel-like shade of his Samoan skin.

As for why we split in the first place, it was mainly because of the distance.

As the years of our relationship rolled on, Josh was getting more and more involved with WWE, and the traveling and time spent away was no joke.

From live shows, to weekly matches, and even occasional PPVs outside of the country, we barely got to see each other.

Which of course, caused us to drift apart and make the mutual decision of parting ways.

Unfortunately, our daughter had already been 4 by that time, so the breakup not only confused her, but hit her hard.

Just to be clear, the attraction is still in full effect, at least over here.

Josh is still very much the most attractive man I've ever laid eyes on, and his subtle ways of flirting with me to this day have lead me to believe he feels the same.

Anyway, fast forward to now, Jalina is 6 years old and spends time with both of her parents separately.

Her home is here with me in Savannah, but when Josh is off from work, she goes and visits with him in Atlanta.

"It's okay mom," Jalina replies, setting her backpack down onto the floor in the doorway. "I brought home some cookies for you."

She pulls out and hands me a tupperware container filled to the brim with cookies, sprinkled with pink sugar crystals.

I smile and kiss her temple. "That's very sweet of you, baby. Thank you."

She smiles and zips her backpack up again, throwing one of the straps over her shoulder.

"LiLi why don't you head upstairs and unpack," Josh suggests, stroking her hair gently.

"Okay daddy," she replies, wrapping her arms around his waist.

I smile as they share a quick hug and kiss before she runs inside and upstairs. 

The jingle of the key chains on her backpack zippers gets quieter and quieter, causing me to stand up and brush off my biker shorts.

"You hungry?" I ask, breaking the comfortable silence. "I was in the middle of making dinner when you guys arrived.”

Josh gives me a soft smile. "What kind of man would I be if I turned down your cooking?"

I smile, playfully roll my eyes, and walk back into the house, inviting him to follow me.

He does, shutting the door behind him and taking a seat on a stool at the island.

"So," he begins again, watching me as I transfer the cookies into a Ziplock bag. "How's everything been?"

I shrug, sliding the zipper across the top. "Quiet, thank God. How's work?"

He tilts his head, nodding. "Busy as usual. You been keeping up with the shows?"

"Haven't I always?" I tease, setting the cookies to the side and turning around to open the fridge and grab some ingredients for a side salad to go with dinner.

I hear him chuckle from behind me. "Aight fair enough. I appreciate your support though forreal."

On my way over to the sink to wash some vegetables, I can practically feel his gaze on my ass.

I grab a cutting board and knife, and head back over to the island counter.

"No worries," I finally reply, cutting off the ends of a cucumber. "Half the time Jalina is the one to turn on the channels to watch her daddy, so it's not like I have much of a choice."

"Gee thanks," he replies sarcastically, causing me to giggle.

Comfortable silence falls over the room again, as the faint sound of our daughter playing with her dolls upstairs echoes throughout the house.

"Can I help with anything?" he asks, as I turn back to the stove to stir the pasta.

I think for a minute. "You can set the table if you'd like."

"Cool," he replies, the sound of his footsteps getting closer.

His hand lightly grazes against my hip, as he reaches up to open the cabinet and grab three dishes.

And, as if nothing has changed, I automatically get goosebumps in reaction to the feeling of his soft fingertips against my body.

"You cold?" he asks, walking past me smirking.

This mother fucker.

"Boy shut up," I reply, taking the pot off the heat and over to the sink to strain the pasta water.

He chuckles and heads over to me once the table is all set.

"I know you missed me," he teases, hugging me from behind.

"Don't flatter yourself," I lie, shaking the strainer to get all of the excess water out. "And our daughter is just upstairs. Don't act like an idiot please."

"You're acting like she wouldn't love to have her parents back together," he mumbles, his hot breath against my ear. "And besides, you ain't pushed me away yet."

He got me there.

"Whatever," I mutter, heading back over to the stove and pouring the pasta into my homemade Alfredo sauce.

He comes up from behind me again, his big hands stroking my sides, and somehow leaving even more goosebumps behind.

"Good comeback," he mumbles, and starts kissing my neck.

I bite my lower lip gently and tilt my head back, laying it against his chest to give him more access. "Joshua..."

"Feels good, huh?" he coos sexily against my jawline. "Daddy could never forget your favorite spots."

Once the pasta and sauce are fully combined, I turn towards him and fold my arms. "Josh, we've been apart for well over 2 years. What makes you think I'd still call you daddy?"

I mean, of course I would.

But this explanation should be interesting.

He cups my face, his thumb stroking my cheek and his dreamy eyes staring deep into mine.

"I remember all those late nights," he begins, caressing my ass with his free hand. "When this ass was all mine. I loved seeing it arched in the air while I fucked you from behind. My favorite was when I'd shove my face in it to swallow that pussy whole. All you said was 'daddy please' this and 'yes daddy' that. You miss that just as much as I do, huh baby?"

With every dirty memory that leaves his dreamy lips, I feel myself getting wetter and wetter.

God, the things this man does to me.

"More than anything," I reply, my voice just above a whisper. "But I don't miss being apart from you all the time. We'd have sex just like you said, and then I wouldn't see you for a week, sometimes two. I felt so alone. So used."

His eyes sadden, as his thumb starts to stroke my cheek again. "We were so young, baby. But we're grown now. We know better and we can make it work. I'm willing to try again, if you are."

I let out a deep sigh, wrapping my arms around his neck and playing with his curls. "I don't know."

"Say yes mama," he practically begs, his thumb now grazing my bottom lip. "I've been missing you so much. I'd give anything to have your beautiful self belong to me again. For our daughter to have her mommy and daddy back together again. To come home after a long day and fall asleep with this gorgeous body in my arms again. I love you baby. Just say the words and I'll be your Jey-Daddy again."

Jey-Daddy.

A nickname I gave him the first time we ever had sex.

So many unwanted memories, but so many good ones too.

I take a deep breath before standing on my tippy toes and pressing my lips to his.

I don't know why I'm doing this instead of responding, but it feels so good.

Better than words anyway.

He automatically responds, wrapping his arms around my waist, pulling me closer, making the kiss slow and passionate.

Our lips and tongues move perfectly in sync as he lightly grips my neck.

When we finally pull away, he looks into my eyes again. "So is that a yes?"

I lick my lips and give him a soft smile. "Yeet."

He smiles back and pecks my lips then left cheek before pulling me into a hug.

I hug back, resting my head against his chest and inhaling his delicious cocoa butter scent.

"My beautiful lady," he coos, resting his chin on my head. "I love you."

"I love you too," I reply, rubbing his back. "I never stopped."

He kisses my temple and rocks us back and forth.

—————————————————————————————————

The light snores coming from Jalina and Josh fill the room as the credits to "Cinderella III: A Twist in Time" roll on the living room TV.

I press the power button on the remote and look over at the two loves of my life.

Could I be any more lucky?

I pick Jalina up and off of Josh, making sure to be extra careful so that I don't wake either of them up.

She stirs in her sleep but wraps her arms around my neck, causing me to smile softly.

I carry her upstairs and lay her in her bed, lifting the blankets onto her body and making sure to tuck her in extra comfortably.

I press a gentle kiss to her forehead before quietly leaving her bedroom, shutting the door behind me.

I head back downstairs and find Josh still asleep on the couch.

I chuckle quietly at the sound of his loud snores and kneel onto the cushion next to him.

I gently cup his face and stroke his cheek, to which he responds with his eyes fluttering open and a soft smile when he sees me. "Hi baby."

"Hi sleepyhead," I tease, running my fingers through his curls. "I brought Jalina up to bed. You guys were knocked out by the time the movie ended."

He chuckles in response and rubs his eyes while stretching.

"I didn't wanna wake you," I continue. "But I know you have to be somewhere tomorrow and the couch might not be the most comfortable."

He smiles again, and strokes my cheek. "You're an angel, baby. Thank you."

We share a quick kiss before I take his hand and lead us upstairs to bed.

Once we're all cozy under the covers, we just kinda lay there, staring into each other's eyes.

"What?" I ask shyly, blushing like a maniac.

One thing about this man: he's always gonna make me blush regardless of the 6 years we spent together.

He chuckles and removes a curl from my face. "You're so pretty, baby."

"Thank you," I reply looking down, my face hot to the touch.

He gently lifts my chin and stares deep into my eyes.

"I'm so happy you're mine again." *Kiss* "You're everything." *Kiss* "I love you so much, baby. And I will for as long as you'll let me." *One final kiss*

I kiss back each time and bite my bottom lip after the last one before speaking up. "I love you too. More than you'll ever know."

We share a smile as I wrap my arms around him.

He rubs my lower back and buries his head into my neck, giving me a ton of kisses there too.

When we finally pull away, he puckers his lips and I giggle before accepting his offer, pressing mine to his once more.

Soon enough, we drift off to sleep in each other's arms.

Lord, thank you for bringing the man of my dreams back into my life.

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uceyjucey Never lettin' you go again 🥶🩵

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[the-froschamethyst4]

“We can’t keep him”

𖤐Pairing: Ghost x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, cowboy! Ghost, children, married couple, kissing, harsh background, mention of abuse, mention of a miscarriage and infidelity, happy ending (I promise),

𖤐Summary: Y/n has a family member that has been in the hospital for some time and this was the first time she sees them and finds about their secret child and brings them home to Ghost

————

————

Y/n Riley, a gentle and kind woman who's done no wrong in her life, but she's here at the hospital after being told her cousin was in the hospital after a fatal car accident, Y/n hasn't gone to see him in the 3 weeks she was notified, she was either busy or didn't want to see the person she called family all torn and beat up.

She stood in the doorway of the hospital room and saw her cousin, he was barely holding on, she couldn't even recognize him. She excused herself and heads to the small courtyard, tears running down her face, fists curled and pushed into her eyes wishing she didn't see what she just saw.

As she sat on the bench, she looks down at her feet, as tears land on her thighs.

"You stay here," a woman who sounded angry pushed a young boy on the bench Y/n was on, and she walked off. Y/n was still sniffling but wiped the tears from her face.

"Why are you crying?" The boy asked.

"What happened to your face?" Y/n tried to change the question. The boy has a bruised eye, a busted lip and some dried blood under his nose.

"Nothing," he says.

"Then I'm not crying," she says.

"My dad's here," he says.

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

"Car accident..."

"Car...accident?"

"Yeah," he says, wiping under his nose.

"W-What's his name?" She was scared for the answer.

"Martin L/n."

"Fuck..." Y/n then looks at the ground leaning back on the bench, she then turns to look at the boy. "How...old are you?"

"12," he says.

"Martin," she groans leaning back. "What about your name?"

"Silas."

"Who...who was that woman? Your mom?"

"No, definitely not," he says. "She's my caseworker."

"Caseworker? Something wrong?"

"...Guess you don't know anything about him."

"What did he do?" Now she curious but is also rightfully pissed off at Martin. He was usually a nice and caring man, why does his son have a caseworker?

"He-"

"Silas! Come on, you have to see him." His caseworker yells from the door. Silas doesn't say anything and gets off the bench and heads to the door.

Y/n takes a deep breath and walks to the door as well, going back to the room.

"Who are you? Why are you in here?" The caseworker says.

"Martin is my cousin," Y/n said.

"O-Oh," she doubles down.

"Can he have some privacy to say goodbye?" Y/n looks at the doctor.

"I mean we would but we have a policy that doesn't allow us to leave the room-"

"Your policy is shit and his son should be allowed to say his goodbye, without a doctor or caseworker around," Y/n says. The doctor just nods and motions the caseworker to also leave.

Silas looks at Y/n and then back at his dad on his death bed. Silas plays with his fingers and then looks back at him again.

"You suck as a father..." well that stunned Y/n. "Beat me, left me at school too many times then I can count, left me with that bitch of a caseworker...I hope you rot in hell, and if there's a hell on Earth, I'm already on it," he turns and walks out of the hospital room, Y/n could hear his caseworker call after him.

"Martin...I've don't know what you've done to that poor boy, but you...I'm glad you're leaving, I don't know what you've been doing for the past 6 years, but I know...you deserved this...I loved you, my cousin, but I hate you," Y/n grabbed her purse and walks out of the room, going to her car and starting it up, not before hitting her wheel and screaming out of anger.

--------------

Going home to her husband, Ghost, he sat on the front porch watching her walk up the stairs like she was tired and her eyes were red and puffy, and Ghost opened his arms for her to sit on his lap and she snuggled to his chest.

"Guessing it didn't go that well?"

"He has a son, Si."

"A son? Since when?"

"12 years. He's had a son for 12 years and didn't say anything to anyone, no one knew...he must have hurt that boy for too long."

"Why do you say that?"

"He has a caseworker, Si, no child has a caseworker unless something has happened to that child."

"What's the kid's name?"

"Silas...he's 12...and all I know from what he said to Martin as a good bye was that he basically hates him...and I do too, Si, Martin lied to us, he was never kind or gentle, he was monster behind closed doors."

Ghost held Y/n close and kissed her temple, he rocks back and forth on the rocking chair sitting on the front porch, the silent rain hitting the top of the roof and on the ground.

-----------------

It's been a week now, Y/n washing dishes as Ghost was getting back from feeding the cows, when he sees a truck pull into the driveway, he kept his composure hands on his belt as he watched the Sheriff come out of the truck.

"Evening Sheriff."

"Evening Ghost, I have something."

"What is it?"

"Not what, who."

"Y/N!!" Ghost yells from outside, Y/n stopped what she was doing drying her hands and coming outside.

"Yes?" She opens her door and sees Silas being held by the hoodie by the Sheriff. "Silas?"

"So you know him."

"Yeah...I do...he's my cousins son. I met him a few weeks ago." The Sheriff released Silas and he went to the tailgate of the truck.

"What did he do?" She asked.

"Stealing."

"Where's his caseworker?"

"Said he didn't want to call her, and said you're his legal guardian." He says. Y/n looks at Silas and takes a deep breath.

"We don't have kids, Sheriff." Ghost says.

"Si...can I have a word with my husband?" Y/n pulls Ghost to the front porch.

"So, that's Silas."

"Yeah...Simon, he doesn't have a home...his only family just died, and if they call his caseworker, he'll go to Foster care."

"Love, it's for the best he goes-"

"No, Simon...you've been in his position before," she taps her fingers into his chest.

"Don't do that."

"Do what?" She knew what she was doing.

"We can't...keep him, we know nothing on what a child needs."

"I know he needs a home, right now, parents to take care of him."

"What about his mom?"

"Doesn't know her."

Ghost then takes a deep breath as he looks at Silas swing his feet back and forth on the tailgate and then looks back down at his wife.

"If he stays here, he works," Ghost says.

"Fine, he could use some muscle on him anyways," Y/n walks off the porch and walks to the tailgate where Silas was. "You can stay...if you stay here you work on the farm with my husband, don't worry he's not as bad as he may seems."

The Sheriff had took off a while ago leaving Silas in the care of Y/n and Ghost. Ghost sees Silas at the porch, he seemed like he was going to follow Y/n into the house but stopped him from going in.

"Where you going?" Ghost asked.

"Inside, I'm cold," he says.

"Not just yet, I still haven't fed the pigs, yet, you get to help me with them, and from then on the pigs will now be your responsibility."

"Pigs? Yeah, okay-what I get to move up from the pigs whenever you tell me to?"

"You catch up quick, get your ass moving," Ghost says, showing Silas where he has to go.

Silas goes first walking to the pig pin, Ghost opens the gate and sends Silas inside.

"Grab that bucket. Fill it with slop."

"Slop?"

"That shit right there. It's kitchen scraps, rotten fruit and vegetables," Silas removed the lid on top of the bucket of slop, Silas gags at the smell and puts the bucket inside the slop and scooped out a full bucket full.

Silas continues to gag as he walks to the pigs that crowded around his feet, making him hard to walk around them.

"Push them."

"Push them? They're heavier than me," Silas says.

"Push them," Ghost repeats. Silas used his knee to push the pigs away so he could get to their bowl to dumb everything into it. Once he gets to the bowl and pours everything in, he drops the bucket and goes to the gate where Ghost was.

"Ah, who said you're done?"

"What?"

"You gonna wash Bessy over there."

"Bessy?" Bessy was a big Vietnamese pot-bellied pig. Ghost told Silas that she's probably had about 6 different liters and won 7 blue ribbons at the county fair, she is a force to reckon with, and gets the most dirty out of all the other pigs in the pin.

Silas grabs the hose from the side of the pin turning the water on and spraying Bessy with it, but what Ghost didn't tell Silas was that Bessy hates water and you basically gotta run after her and trap her to wash her.

Silas ran around the pin trying to block Bessy from running, Ghost just laughs at him, Silas then tackles the pig and ended up taking Bessy down with him, he curses and grabs the hose to wash Bessy.

"What the hell is going on? I called for dinner 5 minutes ago!" Y/n says, marching to her husband and Silas. She sees Silas all mudding and dirty, he kind of looks embarrassed to have Y/n looking at him like this.

Y/n slaps Ghost's arm, who wasn't fazed by her smack, but did look at her.

"Why is he in there with them?"

"Cause I didn't get to feed them, so he's doing it, he's now in charge of them."

"Silas, come on, go inside and clean up, dinner is ready." She says, looking annoyed at Simon. Silas walks out of the pin kicking his shoes off at the front door not wanting to trudge mug into the nice and clean house.

"Simon-"

"He's a boy, he's going to get dirty, weather he likes it or not, and the deal was, he lives here, he works here."

"I know that but-"

"But nothing, there is no but," he says. "Come on...thought dinner was ready?"

---------------

Silas took a nice hot shower, coming down in clothes Y/n could find for him, some old sweatpants and an old t-shirt.

"Thanks."

"Sorry, I didn't have any clothes to fit you, we can go shopping tomorrow, or do you have clothes back at your home?"

"I need new ones..." he picks at the food not wanting to talk more and Y/n didn't push him, but Ghost just stares at the boy and then at his wife, he sees how similar they look, same hair color, those same colored eyes, but Silas was more quiet, rebellious. Y/n gentle, can be stubborn, and a pain in Simon's ass sometimes.

"I need him around the farm tomorrow," Ghost jumps in and looks down at his dinner eating it.

"You have help. Thought Soap, Price and Alejandro were coming?"

"They are-"

"Then you can wait, it won't take long, he needing new things is a bit more important," Silas looks at the couple talking, he leans back into the chair not eating, it caught Ghost's attention.

"Eat kid," he says.

"I'm not hungry anymore."

"Why?" He pushes.

"Simon, enough...you don't have to if you don't want to...or if you want...we can eat in silence, no more talking about anything," she says, looking at Silas. Silas has never gotten that look before, it was the look of someone who cared, and not angry, Ghost wasn't angry nor annoyed, he's just not use to someone else in his home let alone a kid he's now responsible for.

They ate in silence like Y/n said, Silas had finished first and was excuse to walk around the house and explore if he wanted to. He stumbles upon a room, pushing the door open and seeing it was a nursery. Why would there be a nursery in the house with no kids but him?

He looks around the room was filled with pink things, the walls painted a soft pink color, he looks around when seeing the name 'Luna' on the wall.

"We were going to have a baby at some point," Ghost says, making Silas jump.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"It's fine kid..." Ghost comes in slightly closing the door behind him. "My wife was pregnant a while back," he walks to the empty crib in the middle of the room.

"She had a miscarriage around 6 months...she has every right to be more upset than me, we've just kept this room shut and off limits, she was scared to remove everything, so we've left the room alone...we tried for another baby a while back but...my wife...she can't get pregnant..." he looks down at Silas. "Promise me, kid...you act and treat her like a mother, she's doing you a favor by staying here with us, she could told that Sheriff to take you to your caseworker, so be fucking glade," he says.

Silas nods and leaves the room. As Silas leaves and continues down the hall he sees another door opened and Y/n was inside setting up the bed for him.

"Oh, here, you'll be staying in the guest bedroom," she says. She leaves him alone in the bedroom as she makes her way down the hall and sees Simon coming out of the nursery, Y/n's heart clenched in her chest as she looks at him.

"He was in here."

"Oh." She looks at the door at the end of the hall slowly closing. Y/n looks up at Simon and felt tears in her eyes when she thinks about her baby. Simon knew what was coming and picked her up and taking her to their bedroom.

------------------

Silas woke up to a chicken near his window pecking at the glass and then hears the door creak open.

"Get up, Kid," Ghost says. Silas groans and sits up looking at Ghost in his doorway.

"Thought I was going shopping?" He says.

"Oh you are," Y/n pops her head in. "Simon is just being an asshole."

"Am not, we're up, so he can be up-"

"He can sleep in if he wants to," Y/n shuts the door and pulls Simon away from his door. "You have to leave him alone, he's a child, coming from a rough home already, he doesn't need you in his face or business all the time."

"Love-"

"Don't 'love' me, he's just a kid, you also have friends coming to work with you, you can wait till he gets back." She says, pushing him out of the hallway and onto the first stair.

"Sorry to interrupt but...I have no clothes," Silas calls from the end of the hall.

"I'll get you some," Y/n gives him a smile and then a quick glare at her husband, pushing past him and going to look for more clothes.

She brings up a t-shirt and some jeans. "I think the jeans might be a little big on you," he comes out of the bedroom and Y/n was right. She bends down on to roll up the pant legs and made them look good, then with a thud next to her, there were some old cowboy boots, Simon had found.

"Si."

"Found those in storage," he says. "Unroll that boys pants, he'll look stupid with his jeans tucked in." Y/n rolls her eyes and fixed them how they were before, once Silas got his boots on and put the jeans over the boots, he looked good.

"There," Y/n says. "Perfect, now, come on, let's go see what we can get ya'."

"The boy doesn't need more then 5 shirt, 4 jeans, 12 underwear and 15 pairs of socks." Simon says from the front porch.

"Why so many underwear?" Silas asks from the front seat.

"Because I said so," Simon says.

"I'll get him as much shit as I want to," Y/n says, pulling out of the driveway.

"You two got a kid now?" Soap asked from sitting on top of his horse.

"He's part of Y/n's family, so, I made a deal saying if he stays here, he works here, he doesn't have any clothes, so they're going, he'll be back to take care of the pigs."

-------------

"How do those feel?" Y/n asked, while she held shirts, and pants, in her arms, she looks down at Silas who was feeling around for his toe.

"They're tight."

"You're not use to them yet," she says. "Do you like them?"

"Yeah," Silas had picked out two pair of boots, a real fancy pair that he promised Y/n he won't wear out in the field but if they go somewhere fancy, then a pair that he'll be using in the pig pin.

"Alright, let's go pay," putting everything on the counter and Y/n paid, Silas looks around the store, seeing some belts, he doesn't have any, but Ghost's black leather belt was on Silas' mind.

He finds one, almost similar to Ghost's belt, he takes it off the rack and goes to the counter.

"And this," he says.

"A belt?"

"I don't have one..." Silas says.

"True alright."

"You want a buckle one it, son?" The old man ringing them out says. Silas looks at the glass case and sees the wide range of buckles.

"That one." Pointing to the one that just a long horn on it.

"Sure." Y/n smiles at Silas as she pays for everything.

-------------

"Don't let, Simon get under your skin, Silas. He's just not use to a kid being in the house."

"Is he always grumpy?"

"Yeah, just about."

"How'd you even marry someone like him?"

Y/n giggles. "He wasn't always like that," she says.

"He was nice?" Silas sounded shocked.

"He still is." She says, laughing.

"Nah, no, I haven't seen him been nice yet."

"It'll take him a while, Silas, it won't happen instantly."

-----------------

When getting home Silas sees the guys reangling up some cows, he looks at them and walks to the fence, sitting on it and watching them.

"Silas," Simon then points to the pigs. Without a fight Silas gets to the pigs, but he could still watch them.

Y/n walks to the pin and watches Silas, dumping the slop in the bowl and grabbing the hose for Bessy, Silas just knows he's going to hate doing this. He chases Bessy in the pin, she squeals loudly as Silas chases the pig, the guys all stopped to watch watch Silas, they either cheered for Silas or for Bessy.

Silas then tackles Bessy like last time taking her down and starts hosing her off. The guys all cheered and Silas felt slightly embarrassed but then felt great that he was getting cheers from the guys.

He looks at Y/n as she just gives him a soft smile.

"Come on, back to work," Ghost says.

------------

Silas helped Y/n in the kitchen, cleaning, washing dishes and then making dinner for them once Ghost was done with the chores around the farm.

Silas had looked outside seeing Ghost coming up to the house, he keeps washing the dishes as Y/n puts everything down to go to the front door and wait for Ghost to open the door. Once he did kicking his boots off at the front, his arms went around her waist and holds her tightly.

Silas watched them, he knew these two were a happy couple, and they were like every other couple, getting into fights and then making up, he watched how Ghost was gentle with her.

"What's for dinner?" Ghost asked looking at Silas and then down at his wife.

"Chicken and mash potatoes," she says. "Something simple."

"What clothes did you get," Ghost asked, looking at Silas.

Silas without another word went to the room he was staying in and brought down the bags. Ghost starts looking through them and pulled some of the shirts out along with some jeans.

"New belt?"

"Yeah, I need one."

"Looks like mine," he says.

"Yeah," Silas looks down and Ghost just smiles a little.

"Fine, looks good, more shirt then I said," he says, looking at Y/n who's back was turned to him.

"I'm allowed to get him as many shirts as he wants," she says.

"New boots, I saw," he says.

"And?" He doesn't say anything, knowing what he might say, she'll give him attitude and make a good point. "That's what I thought," she says. "Anyways, dinner is ready."

----------------

Silas and Ghost sat on the front porch together, it was silent for a long time but soon Ghost started talking.

"So, kid...how was your relationship with your dad?" He asked, he was blunt, and Silas learned that already.

"Not that great, I guess," he says.

"You guess?"

"My dad did drugs...chose drugs and women over his own kid, yet, I don't know my mother, if I knew my mother...I don't think I'd be here with you two, and there is no telling how crazy she is!" Silas says, leaning back in the rocking chair.

"That's like my dad...my mom was my...hero, I guess, she stood up for me all the time, my dad did drug and was an alcoholic...I never had a good relationship with him..."

"What happened to them?"

"My mom passed away from a heart attack, and my dad overdosed on fentanyl and my brother Tommy died from drugs as well...it's just me..."

"How'd you meet, Y/n?"

"Y/n," when Ghost said her name he smiled and looked at the night sky and bright stars. "She is my fucking world, even though he 'get into fights' she is my everything, I will do anything and everything for her...I met her by a friend of mine, Soap, he showed a photo of her to me because he said 'I needed to get out there' and he set up a blind date for us...we hit it off and got married to each other in 6 months."

"6 months?!"

"Yeah...crazy," he says, chuckling. It stayed silent again till Silas spoke.

"...Am I staying here?" He asked Ghost. Ghost took a deep breath and sighed.

"It's up to Y/n...you said she's your guardian...that's more up to Y/n then me," he says.

"And he is," Y/n came out of the house, she sits on the arm of Ghost's rocking chair, his arm wrapped around her waist and resting on her hip. "You will stay here...I don't want you going off to Foster care and not know anything about your family. I'm your family now, Simon is your family now..." she cups his chin getting him to look at her. "And I sure as hell will do everything in my power to keep you here, no one will come and take you from us, do you understand?" Silas nods his head.

"If you also stay here, we've got some ground rules for you," Ghost says.

"Like what?"

"One is no stealing, if you get caught again, we're not coming to get you," Ghost says.

"He is right, I don't want to see your mug anywhere," Y/n said.

"Got it."

"You work till I say you're done, you may have the pigs as a responsibility but you also have the goats, sheep and chickens, you pull your weight around here."

As Ghost talks with Silas about the ground rules, Y/n had gotten up and left them to keep talking. Ghost seemed to make a new best friend and Silas knows what love feels like now.

[lebensmudewing]

Those things look extreme to you because of these times, nothing less. I'm two generations away from being forced to marry a much older man by my own dad, and I'm not even from a muslim country. Those examples like a couple of decades away were just daily stuff. For me there is nothing extreme on men thinking that women are objects that can be traded for land, but I get that you see it that way because of your privilege. For me it's just family history.

And women don't have rights, they just lost their right over their own bodies in one of the most advanced countries in the world. And in my country that is not up to debate, it is assumed by default that a fetus has more value than an adult woman.

I just said that women's rights are constantly subjected to doubt, and women losing abortion rights is proof of that. Then, they will start discussing if women should vote or not, just like thousands of dudes are saying on social media right now. Oh, but I know already that public opinion and online trends don't mean shit to you, even when it has been demonstrated that social media does influence on politics.

Ok, if I say, women wear make up, or bears are big, or summer is hot, then you assume that I'm saying that every single day of the summer is hot and there is not even a single day that is cool. Well, I live in real life and I'm not a toddler so I understand that words don't work like that.

How it doesn't apply to the male sex if every single damn civilization, culture and hunter gatherer group has male supremacists practices and beliefs? The ignorance here is astounding. The bare fact that the thought that men and women are equal is still seen as progressive should tell you something.

Note: notice how it is said that "if they were, women wouldn't have rights" and how in my first reply I just named a country where effectively women don't have rights because men think they are superior, but it is being discarded as "an extreme example". You can't make this shit up.

what baffles me is that he doesn't even realise how stupid his point is when talking about white supremacy. yes, we are all socialised under white supremacy. but some of us are socialised as the supreme, and others are socialised as the inferior. or is he really arguing that there is no substancial difference in growing up white vs. growing up Black??

yes, we are all socialised under patriarchy. BUT YOU WERE SOCIALISED AS THE PATRIARCH omg are you really that stupid or are you pretending

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Chapter 1 - I Saw You In The Water

Read on A03!

Mini-Series Masterlist

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), angst, very light fluff, mutual pining, Dean's got the Mark of Cain, uh oh.

Summary/Warnings:

Author's Note: I'm trying to distract myself from life, so here. Have a miniseries!

Title from Cringe by Matt Maeson

Word Count: 3.7k

“This looks kind of stupid,” you mutter to Sam, and he makes a small nod of agreement, neither of you looking away from the scene before you. Rowena reciting a bunch of words that don’t sound real, and Dean sitting in a kiddie pool, scowling with his eyes screwed tight.

“It’s not just stupid,” Dean snaps your name, and you flush. He wasn’t supposed to hear that. “It’s pointless, and I am not getting adult baptized. You know what? screw this-“

He starts to stand, but Rowena pushes on his chest and sends him back into the water on his ass.

“No moving, or you’ll make me have to start over. And none of us,” Rowena looks Dean over with a dramatic shudder. “Want that.”

“Does it, um, does it have to be an inflatable pool, Rowena? Can’t we just put him in the shower?“

Rowena scoffs, dismissing Sam with a wave of her hand. “That is not how magic works, Samuel. We’re already making a gamble by hoping the spell counts this as a communal bath filled by the clean of soul, and a motel shower would be far worse.”

“Clean of soul-“

“That wee little bellhop.” Rowena gives you a sweet smile, a glint in her eyes that makes your stomach turn slightly. “Only dirty thoughts in his head were about you and your lovely breasts.”

“What.” Dean’s head shoots up, his scowl somehow more violent. “What do you mean, her breasts-“

“I mean her tits, you dimwitted boy.” Rowena gives you a disbelieving eye roll. “Men.”

“Who the fuck was looking at her tits-“

“The bellhop, Dearie, keep up-”

“Can you just do the spell, Rowena?” You cross your arms over your chest, half folding into yourself in a play to get the conversation off of your boobs. “Now?”

Rowena rolls her eyes, but nods and goes back to all her incoherent mumbo jumbo as Dean begins to look violent.

You bump Sam’s shoulder, standing slightly on your toes to whisper, “What if this doesn’t work?”

“It will.” Sam shakes his head, and his hair hits you slightly in the face. “Rowena’s the best in the game, and we’re only stretching a few of the ingredients. It’ll be fine.”

Neither of you believe that, but you’re also running out of options. You’ve lost all your leads on the Book of the Damned, and Dean can’t keep killing people. It’s killing him, and Sam, and you, and also the people. And this is, in a roundabout way, a solution. And Rowena says it will work, and you’re not stupid enough to trust her, but you’re also desperate enough to make a deal with her. She’ll do a spell to make Dean’s bloodlust refocus—make it more about things that make him happy, and less about murder—and you and Sam will stop trying to kill her for three whole months.

If it works, it’s a win for everyone. Rowena doesn’t get shot, you and Sam get Dean back, and Dean can maybe, hopefully, be happy again.

Rowena draws back up from Dean and walks over to you and Sam, extending her hand. “Hair.”

“What-“

“Hair, lass. The spell needs your hair.”

“Sam’s hair?” You frown. “Or my hair?”

“Preferably, both.”

You and Sam exchange a look of what the fuck, and Sam keeps his voice low—inaudible to Dean—as he mutters, “Why our hair?" Why not the, uh, the bellhop guy-“

“The bellhop is of no significance to Dean’s life. You two are the people he loves most in the world, so unless you want him to remain under the Mark’s corruption,” Rowena flexes her hand, her voice becoming stern. “Hair.”

Sam pulls out his hair quickly, but you’re a little slower. You’re not someone Dean loves. You’re someone Dean cares about, but you’re not Sam. You don’t belong on the spell’s weird ingredient list, you barely belong in this room. Watching Dean in such a strongly vulnerable position, making decisions about his life for him. He’d resisted this, you’d said please, and he’d caved almost immediately, but you mostly think he just didn’t want to argue. You've all been arguing a lot lately—Sam and Dean arguing about most everything, you and Sam arguing about next moves, and you and Dean arguing about you sticking around, near him, through this—and it’s getting exhausting.

But Rowena gives you an impatient look, and you pass your hair into her hand. If it doesn’t work, you can just start over and only use Sam’s hair. He has a lot of it to spare, he’ll be fine.

When the spell finishes, Sam and Rowena go outside to talk and you sit on the bed, watching Dean in silence. He’d insisted on wearing his clothing in the pool—jeans, boots, flannel and all—he’s cross-legged in the water, and he still hasn’t opened his eyes.

He still looks good. There’s an expression made of deep lines and tense frustration on his too-handsome face, and you want to touch him. You want to touch Deanwherever he’ll let you. Run soothing hands over his frown, find out of his grown-out scruff is soft or prickly, kiss his full, pink lips until he smiles, and drift down his body. Over his chest, his stomach, lower and lower until you’re wrapping your mouth around him, and he knows that you care. You really, really care about Dean, and he’s not a burden, and if this doesn’t work, you’re going to stay right at his side until you find something that does, because you like to think you’d look up at him under your lashes and he’d see that you love him, and throw his head back and groan, and maybe his hands—big and rough and so carefully skilled—would touch you-

“Be honest with me, Sweetheart.”

His low, deep voice pulls you out of your fantasy, and you blink at him with a flush that you pray he won’t notice. “What?”

“Be honest,” he repeats, and his eyes open right onto yours. He doesn’t look to be in pain anymore, he mostly looks tired, so you nod.

“Yeah, okay. What-“

“This is dumb.”

You huff a soft, dry laugh. “It’s a little ridiculous. But it will work, Dean.”

“No spell that I know of calls for an inflatable kiddie pool.”

“Well, you’re not a witch.” You shrug. “And think of it this way, we bought that forever. We bring it back to the bunker, that’s fun.”

“Bought my ass.”Dean drawls your name, giving you a pointed look that makes you squeeze your legs together a little. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that you and Sam stole this thing.”

“It was like, $40.” You mumble, staring at the floral patterns of the motel carpet. “I am not paying that much for some plastic.”

“Even for a spell to save my damned soul?” Dean’s teasing, but there’s something in his voice you hate. Something that make you look up at him with a frown, unable to hide the slight desperation in your voice.

“You’re not damned, Dean.”

He just shrugs, refusing to meet your eyes, and before you can push it Sam returns, tossing Dean the keys and announcing that it’s time to figure out what the Mark wants.

So now, in an old, dusty bar, Dean’s smiling. He hasn’t really, really smiled in a few months, and it’s incredible to see.

It aches a little that he’s smiling away from you. Across the bar with his I can show you the world, sweetheart stance and expression. The one where he’s leaning the counter with one arm, and his eyes have a promise of fun while his every word is charming and drawling and teasing. You think he learned it from movies—he’s told you he likes the charisma of old western heroes, and there is something about his whole show that says cowboy—but there’s a pretty strong chance it’s just Dean. It’s how he is. Who he is. All he does is be handsome and stupid and annoying in a way that makes you want to punch him and then immediately kiss him after.

He’s hasn’t been Dean like that in a while, though. It’s been mostly frowns that turn in on his face, and a refusal to look in the mirror that he tries to hide, but you’ve still noticed. But right now, this is your Dean. The Dean who follows you into countless dreams with his pretty lips and eyes and strong hands and body, the Dean who’s managed to haunt you while you're awake and plant an ache in your heart when he’s in pain, and the Dean who you might know a little better than you know yourself. It’s why you ordered a cheeseburger when he went to sulk at the bar, and why you’re facing the door in the booth—Dean always faces the door—and why it hurts something deep and hopeless inside you that the grace of Dean’s smile is all focused on a pretty girl that isn’t you.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

Your attention turns to Sam—who’s looking at you with a sympathy that is not welcome—and you give him a flat glare. “What am I supposedto say to that.”

“Um, the truth? I think?” Sam turns in his seat to look over at Dean, and you kick him. “Hey!” He yelps your name, whipping back around with an almost pout. “That hurt-“

“Don’t look at him.” You hiss, jerking your head to Dean. “He needs this.”

“Yeah, but-“

“No but, Sam. The spell is supposed to make him crave things he likes, he likes sex, let him have sex.”

“I don’t…” Sam sighs, shaking his head. “It’s weird. I read the spell-“

“Of course you read the spell-“

“Shut up, I always read the spells, it’s safer. And this one,” Sam looks you over with a frown and tight-lipped, grimacing expression. “This one’s odd.”

“Oh no,” your voice is sarcastic and cold, and it makes Sam flinch a little. “An odd thing. If only we knew some people who knew how to handle odd things.”

“This is why I wish you would just talk to him.” Sam mutters, giving the waitress a kind smile as she hands out the food. “You get mean when things like this happen. And I don’t think it would be as horrible as you’ve decided it would be.”

You pull the cheeseburger to your own side of the table in a blatant Dean-trap. “That is very easy for you to say, Sammy. Worst case for you, you become a child of divorce.”

He shrugs, poking at his salad with a fork. “I think that’s the worst case for Dean. You’d win custody.”

“Fair.” You look back to the cheeseburger, small smile threatening to pull at your lips. “I do have a higher rate of income.”

“No, you don’t,” Sam frowns. “You make exactly what he does. Nothing.”

“Wrong. I’m a better pool hustler than he is, so my return rate is higher.”

Sam laughs, shaking his head. “Don’t let him hear you say that, we’ll be stuck here until he beats you in a game.” He makes a mock face of disgust. “We’ll die here.”

You let yourself fully smile, even as you mutter, “kiss ass.”

Sam just shrugs, grinning himself as he takes a long drink. You really miss smiling. You really miss easy jokes, and you really miss making fun of each other without being consumed by too much grief or pain to do so.

You really miss Dean. He’s just across the room, but you still really miss him. And you want him—your Dean, the one that’s a little ridiculous and overly charming and the strongest, best man you’ve ever known—back. Over here, smiling at you, teasing you, or saying something shockingly genuine that makes your heart his even more than it already has been.

You look back to him in the bar—you can’t really help it, you think Dean and you always start to look for him in any crowd—and for a second you could’ve sworn he was looking at you. His smile has faded a little, and there are lines on his forehead, so if he was looking at you it wasn’t because you’re something good to him. He probably just saw his food, and then saw you, and now he’s antsy. His foot is tapping on the floor, and he’s fidgeting with the cuff of his flannel, so either Rowena’s terrible at her job, or the Mark is eating at him again.

You’ll fix it. Whatever Dean needs you to do for this, for him, you’ll do it silently and without asking for anything in return. No matter how many lectures Sam gives you about being selectively observant and kind of an idiot, you’ll just help Dean, and he won’t have to think twice about it. Helping Dean is what you do, it’s what you’ve done. Your whole life, in some way, has become how can I help Dean. How can I do something for this person who does everything for everyone else, and maybe he’ll turn his attention to me, and maybe he won’t, but no matter what I’ll have helped Dean.

It’s not like he doesn’t help you. Dean opens doors and saves your life and patches your wounds, and he never asks for anything back. But that’s why you want to help.

And this is helping Dean. It might be killing you a little, but it’s helping Dean, so you’ll still fix it, and then drown your sorrows with ice cream, strong drinks, and small moments of his joy when he’s better.

——————

Dean is really, really conflicted. It’s ripping him in half, because he knows he’s supposed to be polite to chicks—like the one in front of him, with the sweet smile and sweeter words he doesn’t deserve to hear—but her voice sounds like nails on chalkboard. She doesn’t feel right, she doesn’t feel good, and the bloodlust inside him doesn’t want her.

Bloodlust is the wrong word. It was the right word, but over the past few hours it didn’t feel like it anymore. Dean’s not great with words—he’s great with guns, and cars, and sometimes drawing, but not words—and even he gets that bloodlust really isn’t the correct word for wanting something in a way that’s clean. Pure and raw, but not innocent. It’s still a craving, it’s still insatiable, but it doesn’t feel tainted. It’s driving Dean to things he couldn’t really hate being dependent on. It had started softer and abstract, right after the spell, with drinks and food, so he’d driven to a bar. Then it had asked for care and love, and Dean didn’t have either of those things readily at his disposal, so he looked where he usually found something close to it. In a pretty girl, with a big rack and unburdened smile.

Then his attention had wandered for half a second, and now it couldn’t come back. The not-bloodlust—that wasn’t a good term for it either, he’d need to come up with a better, catchier one later—had tugged his gaze over to Her and Sam, and suddenly everything had been sharper and a lot more specific. Dean should go back to the booth. The booth had beer, and a cheeseburger, and Her and Sam. Mostly Her, but Sam was cool too. Dean was allowed to love two people.

And that’s where the conflict came in. Dean needed to be over there. His stomach was turning, and his skin was growing itchy and hot the longer he wasn’t there. But if he went over there, not only would he not only be leaving this very sweet girl, who seemed fine, but he might be in real danger of telling Her things he was not supposed to tell her. Things Sam kept telling Dean to tell Her, and things Dean kept having to remind Sam weren’t any of his business. He would not lose another good thing because he couldn’t keep himself in check. He would not poison something that didn’t deserve it, no matter how much the bloodlust kept telling him to. Kept telling him that She was caring and lovely, so Dean should drag her down to his level and kiss her in the grime and guts.

The not-bloodlust wanted Her too. The not-bloodlust really liked the idea of just being closer to Her, because she usually helped things. She helped everyone—Dean wasn’t special—but the not-bloodlust seemed to think that simply breathing air that had been inside her more recently would fix a lot of things that were boiling and cracking and hissing in Dean’s body.

That’s what won the conflict. He wouldn’t have to say things for this to be better, they just would be. So Dean gave the pretty girl an apologetic goodbye—she’d be fine, there were other men who were better than Dean and weren’t overtly craving their best friends in the bar—and almost ran back to Her and Sam.

She looks up at Dean as he scoots into the booth, her brows furrowed and mouth tugging down. “You’re back.”

“Well done, sweetheart, I am back.” Dean grins at Her, and that only makes her frown more.

“Did you, um,” She looks over to Sam, who shrugs. “Did you strike out?”

“Nah, just hungry.” It wasn’t a lie. Dean had been hungry. Dean had been starving, but he felt better now. He’d still eat the cheeseburger, but the hunger had dulled from a mind-numbing desperation and withdrawal to just a growl near his throat of cheeseburger. Cheeseburgers are good.

“Well, how are you feeling?” Sam’s voice is insistent, and Dean rolls his eyes, because he knows where this is going. “Do you want to kill someone? Rowena said the spell might take a few hours to work-“

“Workin’ now. I feel good.” Dean takes a large bite of his cheeseburger, and She and Sam exchange looks.

“Good?”

Dean nods, shooting Her a wink. “Real good,” he says Her name through his mouthful—crumbs falling out of his mouth—and she sighs. Her hand twitches on the table, and Dean wants to hold it. He can’t hold it. He’s not even supposed to be talking right now—that was the deal he’d made with himself—so holding hands if defiantly off the table. It would probably freak her out, too, and that’s the last thing Dean wants to do. He’s freaked Her out enough for a whole lot of lifetimes, so she should be smiling instead.

Dean’s usually really good at making Her smile. He’s proud of that, because She worries more than Sam and has more nightmares than Dean, but he can always make her smile.

She’s not smiling now. She’s tense, and she keeps looking between Dean and the girl at the bar.

“You’re good.” She repeats his words slowly, but it doesn’t sound like she believes them. “And you think the spell worked.”

“Did work.” Dean swallows, and immediately takes another bite. Cheeseburgers are good, the not-bloodlust had decided, so Dean should eat more cheeseburgers. “Don’t think it did, I know it did.”

“How do you know?” Sam asks, pulling the cheeseburger across the table, away from Dean.

“Hey!” Dean reaches for his plate, and Sam moves it away faster. “What the fuck, Sammy, do not touch my burger-”

“It’s distracting you, Dean, and this is serious. We really need to know if the spell worked-“

“It did work. I don’t want to gank anything, I just want my cheeseburger and-“ He has to cut himself off, because that is exactly why he wasn’t supposed to talk. “Look, man, it worked. Trust me, I feel good. No bloodlust, just, uh, not-bloodlust.”

Sam glances at the cheeseburger, then at Her, then at Dean. Dean gives him a very winning grin—all teeth and bright eyes, and give me back my burger, I’m not going to kill anyone—but Sam’s attention just moves back to Her. She mostly looks confused and tired—Dean still needs to make her smile—but she nods, making a loose gesture of surrender, and Sam, finally, slides the food back to Dean.

“If he’s really good,” Sam’s pretty clearly talking to Her, but Dean listens anyways. They’re a team, he’s allowed to hear this stuff. “We should get back to Kansas tonight. It’s not smart to linger in a town after a hunt finishes-“

“I know,” She glances back to Dean, and he offers her his widest, most reassuring smile. She doesn’t smile back, but her face relaxes a little, so Dean counts it as a victory. “Do you want to finish that, or-“

“Gimme three-“

“Chew, Dean.”

He does, holding up three fingers in a silent signal, and inhales the rest of his cheeseburger.

“Holy crap, dude.“ Sam blinks between Dean and the empty plate. “That was really fast, even for you.”

Dean shrugs, standing out of the booth. “Don’t blame me, blame the not-bloodlust. Cheeseburgers or murder, Sammy, gotta be one.”

Sam rolls his eyes, starting to the door, and Dean lingers until She’s on her feet and they can follow Sam together.

“Not-bloodlust is a bad name,” She mutters, staring at the floor as she walks. “What about, uh, what’s the opposite of blood?”

“Dunno.” Dean watches Her carefully, raking his brain for a good answer. “Water? Waterlust?”

That gets him a small, huffed laugh. “That doesn’t make sense, Dean.”

“Doesn’t have to. It’s my lust.”

“It is.” She meets Dean’s eyes, and her attention is soft, but it feels strange. Like she’s trying to find something on Dean’s face he doesn’t know how to get for her. “And if you really want, we can call it waterlust, but I like betterlust.”

“Betterlust?“

“Starts with B,” Her attention turns back to the floor, and Dean feels something sour twist around his heart and forearm. “Fun to say. Makes sense, too, you’re lusting after better stuff.”

Dean was lusting after better stuff. It was a good name—better than not-bloodlust—and he was willing to concede waterlust to Her. It was, overwhelmingly so, the least he could do.

“Betterlust it is, Sweetheart.” He tried his most charming, cocky, look at me, I’m a cowboy and I can be yours if you offer me just a few kind words because I’m a pathetic, worthless wet dog that barks and bites, but man am I good at sex, smile on Her, and this time, he got a real smile back.

End Note: Wow what's this something I write that's actually going to be short? We'll see!

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@artemys-ackles @brtodd @panicking-outside-the-disco @megara0224

[1117-yungi]

MOONSTRUCK. park seonghwa x gender neutral!reader [1.9k]

on a quiet rooftop under the moonlight, two strangers who have crossed paths countless times finally connect. as the night deepens, their magnetic pull becomes undeniable — they realize they might not need to navigate life’s uncertainties alone under the stars.

genre. neighbor!seonghwa, neighbor!reader, strangers to lovers, angst, fluff, smut

warnings. lowkey angsty, swearing, seonghwa has glasses, secret mutual pining, unprotected sex, kind of vanilla in a way, he does choke reader briefly, he's unbelievably cute and gentle with reader its sickening, reader is lonely. pet play? idk bunny used as a pet name. size kink, praise, rushed ending, implied monster cock seonghwa tbh, slight body worshipping, probably more...

note. i have been obsessed with moonstruck by enhypen so this is kinda based on that song and i broke the text where the smut starts so its optional guys...

the quiet hum of the city fades as you step onto the rooftop, the air crisp and cool against your skin. above you, the moon hangs impossibly bright, spilling silver light across the skyline. it's your escape, the place you go when the noise of life becomes too much. your apartment seemed suffocating at this moment, providing anything but comfort — maybe from the thought of finals approaching. it was quiet as always on the rooftop. but tonight, you're not alone.

he's there, leaning against the railing with a look of quiet wonder, as if he's never seen the stars this close before. you don't know his name, only that you've passed him in the halls of your building, shared shy glances in the elevator, and felt a strange pull whenever his gaze lingered a second too long. the idea of making conversation with him during those minimal interactions, if you'd even call them that, was overwhelming.

to your surprise, he makes that conversation. "you come here often?" he asks, his voice soft but carrying in the stillness. god, it was such a line and it made you crack a smile.

you nod, hesitant. "it's peaceful. feels like the world stops spinning for a while."

he smiles, mimicking your own and it's as if the moonlight shifts just to illuminate him. the slight shadow casting over him makes him look just that more attractive. "i get that. sometimes, it feels like we're all just… lost satellites."

the conversation flows effortlessly, surprising you both. you talk about the constellations, the city lights, and the quiet dreams you've kept locked away. there's something magnetic about him, something that feels both familiar and completely new at the same time.

as the night deepens, the gap between you closes. there was once a distance between the two of you, but he changed that. he takes a step closer, then another, until his shoulder brushes against yours. you can feel the warmth radiating from him, a stark contrast to the cool night air.

"i've seen you before," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "but i've never known how to start a conversation. you seemed… untouchable, like the moon itself."

you laugh softly, the sound caught somewhere between disbelief and vulnerability. "i'm not the moon. i'm just as lost as anyone."

his eyes lock with yours, and for a moment, the world truly does stop spinning. "maybe we’re not meant to find our way alone."

and then, with the stars as your witness and the moon as your accomplice, he leans in, and the universe tilts in your favor.

for the first time, you're not just stargazing — you're falling, and the descent feels like coming home. you don't pull away. for a moment, neither of you move, as if the world outside the rooftop had disappeared entirely. it's just you, and him, and the soft murmur of the city below, distant yet somehow alive, like a quiet heartbeat. his breath is warm against your skin, his presence steady, like he’s been waiting for this moment, too.

the sound of a car horn blares far below, and you realize you're both still standing there, caught in the quiet hum of the night. your hand brushes against his, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world to reach for him — to hold on to whatever it is that's growing between you. his fingers are warm, his touch hesitant at first, but it's enough. just enough to feel real.

"is it always this easy?" you ask, your voice almost lost in the wind. you half-expect him to laugh or back away, but he doesn't. his eyes are soft, patient, like he's waiting for you to figure out what comes next.

"maybe we're just lucky," he says, his voice low, almost intimate. "or maybe we were meant to find each other tonight."

the words hang between you, like a secret shared under the stars. it feels like a thousand possibilities are unfolding in this one single moment, and yet you both stand there, just existing in it. there's no rush. no need for anything more. just the quiet connection that’s formed in the spaces between your words, in the way your hands fit together so perfectly.

you shift slightly, turning to face him more fully, and for the first time tonight, you meet his gaze with the courage to hold it. his eyes are deep, and you find yourself lost in them, like a new constellation you want to learn by heart. it's an unspoken question between you — about who you are, what brought you here, what you both want. but there’s no need for it to be said aloud. not right now.

"i didn’t think…" you begin, but the words stall in your throat. "i didn't think i'd meet anyone here."

"yeah," he says with a small, almost imperceptible grin. "i didn’t either. but maybe that’s the point. sometimes, the things we're not looking for are the things we need the most."

you smile then, the kind of smile that feels like it's been waiting for years to be released. it's not just about the words; it's about the quiet certainty that somehow, in the stillness of the rooftop and the light of the moon, you both understand each other more than anyone else could.

the breeze picks up, ruffling your hair, and you close your eyes for a brief moment, listening to the night. for the first time in weeks, you don’t feel like you're just waiting for something to happen. the world feels full — full of possibilities, full of moments yet to come.

"i guess we're not alone after all," you whisper.

he steps closer, if that was even possible, his breath warm against your ear, and the space between you is no longer a distance to be crossed. he leans down, just enough to make the air around you both thrum with something electric.

"seonghwa," he whispers. you frown before realizing that you hadn't even known his name. you whisper your name back, making him smile. he repeats it, as if it was a new flavor he hadn't tried before.

his lips brush against yours.

it's soft. a gentle connection. but it lingers, like the promise of something more. the moment doesn't feel like the beginning of something fragile, something that could easily slip away. it feels like the start of something solid, something you can build with each other. your arms wrapped around his shoulder and tugged him deeper into the kiss, offering a more passionate take.

you were breathless after a few moments. as you pull back, your fingers still tangled with his, you know — the city below, the stars above, none of it matters. this moment is enough. it's all you need. you and a stranger.

"you're right," you say, finally finding your voice again. "maybe we weren't meant to find our way alone."

"no," he agrees, smiling like he’s been waiting for you to say that. "we weren't."

the night stretches out before you, wide and endless. next thing you knew, he was guiding you towards his apartment, just down the hall from yours. you had grown so familiar with the front door that seeing the inside was strange. seonghwa was neat, more neat than you had expected.

words didn't need to be spoken between the two of you anymore. his lips found yours with ease; your lips were like a drug and he was becoming an addict, needing another fix. you raised your hands to cup his face, deepening the kiss. the tension had finally boiled over into a heated passion and lust between the two of you, with seonghwa pushing you down onto his couch, not sparing another moment as his large hands begin roaming over your body, worshipping your skin as you made out.

breathy sighs escaped your wet lips, and your gaze drifted along his body before tugging on his shirt, signaling you wanted it off. he let out a breathless chuckle from his throat. "as you wish," he whispered before removing the fabric.

wow.

your hands reached out to touch his abdomen, grazing each defining line on his stomach. he shivered at your touch, melting slightly. and soon enough all of the clothes creating distance between your bodies were removed.

seonghwa reached down, rubbing his hard dick up and down your entrance, attaching his lips to yours once again.  he kissed along your neck as a distraction as he started to slowly to push in, testing the waters, watching your face as he stretches you out. "fuck," you whispered. he was so patient. he watched your reactions and each facial expression you made carefully, making sure he wasn't hurting you in any way. "you okay?" he asked after kissing your temple, making you so overwhelmed with feelings and more importantly, pleasure. it had been a while since you had sex.

he kept placing gentle kisses on your forehead temple, keeping himself still until you give him the okay. you eventually nod against him, your face still buried in his shoulder, holding him to you.

setting a slow pace, he watches your body with an intensity you weren't familiar with. you had never felt so cared for; a strange feeling erupted from your chest. but after hearing your moans start to gradually increase, he picks his pace up, hitting something so deep inside of you that it makes your head fall back. he takes the opportunity to graze his plush lips against your neck as it becomes more exposed.

he's hitting that certain spot inside you, sending a euphoric feeling through your abdomen that makes your thighs shake deliciously. it was like your entire body is infatuated by him. the care, the attention, the fondness, even the angle of his hips as they snap against yours.. it all has your mind floating on cloud nine. and god, you don't want it to stop, you don't ever want this feeling to end. you needed for him to hold you close, to have him in your blood, even. you know addicted just like he was; you've had a taste of him and you knew it was him. just him. fuck, you were moonstruck.

"seonghwa," you moaned in a pornographic way. he visibly shook at the sound, his eyebrows and face contorting for a moment. "fuck, bunny, don't say my name like that, you're gonna make me come," he groans, lifting his head up while adjusting his glasses that had fallen to the tip of his nose. the same hand moved up, applying a slight pressure to your neck that made your head fuzzy with pleasure and emotions.

you barely even registered his words as he spoke. a chuckle erupted from his chest, repeating it. "are you close?" he asks, and you could only muster up a whimper in response, holding tight onto his biceps. "you make me go crazy over you," he says, his upper body falling down on top of yours again, as he holds you close. and then you come, the warmth and safety his body is giving you making you release, every part of your being comforted by the man above you as he orgasms as well, shooting his load deep inside of you.

and for the first time, as seonghwa breathes quietly on top of your sweaty body, you know that whatever happens next — whether it's the pull of a final exam or the quiet moments shared on a rooftop — you won’t be facing it alone. the city hums, but you're no longer lost. you've found your place in it. and maybe, just maybe, it's with a stranger you met under the stars.

[aniseandspearmint]

Oh, no PROBLEM, life happens, and I'm just glad you're doing better!

And it's never too late to pick fun things back up. I had to dig around for the notes i made for the next bit of this, and then re-read it over, because it HAS been a year! XD

SO, okay, a part 7!

YES, I am SO GLAD the way Frodo is NOT having a great or easy time came across! I’d hoped that would work! It can be hard, when your body changes and suddenly you’re not capable of the same stuff you were. I was trying to convey that kind of dysphoria.

Maedhros! Maedhros is HAVING A DAY. A good day! A MIRACULOUSLY GOOD DAY.

The kind of good day he can barely trust is REAL bc, lbr, he hasn’t really had a good day innnn. Um. Lets just say a long time. So this is the kind of day that has him covertly running mental checks just to make sure this is still reality. He keeps counting Maglor’s freckles and running his finger tips over his horse and her tack, and the tooling on his belt and faulds just to check that the things he’s seeing, and sensations he feels match up right.

He can at least throw himself into logistics a bit here, first in chivying all the escaped thralls our Intrepid (and exhausted) Heroes have been herding to safety in Himring.

Then he corrals Celegorm and Curufin. (This ended up mostly dialogue!)

Maedhros: *stares pointedly*

C&C: Err.

Maedhros: *calm and measured* I have heard what you’ve been up to in Nargothrond, brothers. Rest assured, I WILL be taking that out of your hides later. For now though *points at the crowd of people filling the hall behind them* Exactly WHAT happened to do THAT?

Curufin: Honestly we don’t KNOW, Nelyo!

Celegorm: When we caught up to them, Finrod, Beren, Luthien, Huan, Tyelpe and that Annatar ner were already gone off to Angband, leaving Finrod’s steward and Frodo to hold the camp.

Maedhros: *blinks* Frodo? Who? And what kind of a name is that? (Note: Frodo is WESTRON it’s gotta sound SO WEIRD to the elves tbh. He’s definitely gonna get slapped with a proper elven name at some point here. Elves gotta give people extra names after all especially in the first age)

C&C: *baffled kind of shrugs*

Curufin: *glowers* The boy is SOMEWHERE in the crowd. He’s remarkably cagey for a boy who can’t be more than 80, and I haven’t been able to corner Tyelpe about him yet, but he rather looks REMARKABLY like that Annatar. And Mother. And Grandfather. (Note: Frodo probably doesn’t look quite like a teenager really, but he’s so coltish in his new body, that’s coming across as youth to the elves that see him)

Maedhros blinks at that. Well. He never thought Tyelpe the sort, but, well, Curufin had been a bit smothering since they’d come to Beleriand. He’s thought Tyelpe was weathering it with more grace and patience than was usually found in their line, but maybe he’d just decided to go around his father? He wouldn’t be the first in the family for that. (Note: yesss Mae, make some logical conclusions with the info you have! Compare him to you and Finno a bit! You’re VERY wrong but it’s still a good guess!)

Celegorm: He’s got one of Tyelpe’s hairclips. One of the ones father made.

Maedhros: *eyebrows* Interesting. But, at this moment, irrelevant. We can sort that out later. What else can you tell me?

Celegorm: A few hours after we got there, the whole ground heaved like a shaken table cloth. Then some hours after that, Tyelpe and everyone came out of the night leading that lot *waves a hand a the hall* Tyelpe had the silmarils.

Curufin: There wasn’t really TIME to stop and ask questions. We regrouped and lit out for Himring. Luthien is TERRIFYING by the way. She provided the bulk of the power, her and that Annatar. We pitched in too but them, us, Finrod, and Tyelpe have been cycling songs of power for- *blinks* How long has it been since Angband shook, Nelyo?

Maedhros: thirteen days and nights.

Curufin: *sputters*

Celegorm: Huh. No wonder I want to sleep for a week. I haven’t done a march like that since I was with The Hunt. *waves* Anyway, we talked to a few of the thralls, and from what few who were in the throne room said, Luthien walked in all lovely and enchanting, and sang with three voices. It put Morgoth out like a fussy toddler. And then the wolves and the orcs, and even the balrogs, everything evil, dropped where they stood as well. The orcs were dead. No one checked the balrogs. Then Luthien’s man climbed the throne and took the crown and passed it down to Tyelpe. Then he and Annatar left and came back with BLASTING powder and lined the place while Morgoth slept.

Maedhros: *wheezing incredulous laugh*

Curufin: Annatar said the dragons were UNDER the throne room Nelyo. All the eggs, all the breeding stock.

Maedhros: *squints* *head tilt* wait. *slow blink* How would he KNOW that? I didn’t know that, and I know Angband as well as any former thrall.

C&C: *exchanged uneasy glances*

Curufin: We’re not sure. Finrod and Tyelpe trust him though. And, there’s Frodo. *vague hand wave* We heard some snatches of conversation, but nothing that makes much sense.

Maedhros: Right. Where’s Maglor? Nevermind, I saw him with Luthien, I’ll get them, and find Finrod. You round up Tyelpe and this Annatar fellow, and bring them up to my study. See if you can find the Frodo lad you mentioned.

Maedhros needs to corral all the important people ASAP and GET SOME ANSWERS.

He’s able to locate Maglor being charming at Luthien and Beren fairly quickly. Whereas Celegorm and Curufin look as if they’ve been on a hard march for days, Luthien, apart from the general grime of travel in the wilds, looks fresh as a daisy in may. Exactly how much power does she HAVE?? Never mind, one thing at a time. She and Beren graciously accept an invitation to a more private area. They’ve eaten and washed a bit, same as the throng of ex-thralls, but it’s VERY crowded. And They want to talk to Tyelpe, Finrod, Frodo, and Annatar too. They know more than Maedhros! But there wasn’t a LOT of time for other questions after establishing that there was some kind of time travel going on!

Tyelpe and Annatar aren’t hard to locate either. They knew this was coming. A quick wash up and food, and maybe a change of clothes, and it’s on to the Next Thing.

Note: oh. Huh. I didn’t think of it before, but I wonder what Annatar and Frodo are WEARING??? Some casual Valinorin clothes? I bet they were NOT dressed for getting dropped in the past! If it was just like, vibes based, maybe some clothes Annatar thinks of as ‘comfy’ rather than anything either of them might have been wearing before they were dropped into the past, since their bodies were created for this unlike Tyelpe or Finrod!

Annatar reluctantly taps on Frodo’s mind, and tells him Maedhros is collecting them.

Frodo, by this point, is not crying anymore, but is the kind of wrung out EXHAUSTED, that only days and days of rough travel and then a fierce crying jag will make you. Finrod almost offers to carry him, but Frodo just sets his mouth and gets up off the stone floor, doggedly putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along next to Finrod, who directs him around the crowd and into the keep proper.

Maedhros was somehow NOT expecting this Frodo child to look as much like family as Curufin and Celegorm insisted, but oh dear, if anything they understated it. He looks VERY much like the elf called Annatar. The hair, the skin, the eyes, but the other features. They were right, and Maedhros can see little echoes of his kin all over him.

He’s also swaying where he stands next to Finrod, with red eyes and tear tracks through the wilderness grime on his face. (Remember, Frodo skipped the wash up and clothes change area. Finrod too. I’m sure once they get through the first awkward conversation, someone will get them each a basin and some clean clothes!)

Maedhros makes eye contact with Finrod and jerks his chin at the soft couch set before the fireplace. Finrod takes the hint, and leads the young ner that is, in all likelihood Maedhros’s grand-nephew over and gently pushes him down on it.

Maedhros turns his attention to Tyelpe, and also Annatar. Tyelpe steps around Maedhros, and slings the crown off his torso and sets it down on Maedhros’s desk where it thuds down with a surprisingly light thump for a thing wrought of iron and misery.

Maedhros: So. Explain. Lady? This seems to have started with you?

Luthien shrugs gracefully, and sets herself down in Maedhros’s towering armchair before the fire and tells her part of the story. It is, thankfully, lacking the canon bits of C&C capturing her and being creepy assholes! Because Tyelpe stole Huan and met up with her before that could happen here!

When she’s finished with her part, with input from Beren, and Finrod, Maedhros turns and raises his eyebrows at his nephew.

Some very speaking looks are exchanged rapidly between Finrod and Tyelpe and Annatar and Frodo.

Finally Tyelpe just shrugs helplessly.

Tyelpe: Uncle, we have NO IDEA. One minute we’re in Fourth Age Tirion, the next I’m in Nargothrond and Finrod is in Sauron’s Tower, and Annatar and Frodo are there too. And Frodo is an elf.

Maedhros. Blinks. And replays that. Nope. Still makes absolutely NO sense.

Maglor: … I’m sorry, what?

Tyelpe: We’ve done this before. It all went SO much worse. Annatar wasn’t there before, though, or Frodo.

Finrod: Well. Annatar sort of was. Why are there two of you now, by the way? That’s. Kind of alarming.

Annatar: When I spoke to the One, and was changed, I was FUNDAMENTALLY changed. To hazard a guess, when this… Event happened, I was too different to integrate with my former self. He is maiar, I am elven. I came to my senses, he’s still following his shining plan.

Frodo: And me?

Annatar: We share something of our spirits on a deep level. And since hobbits have not woken yet, and will not for many many years yet, I imagine this was the only way for you to have a form here and now.

Frodo: *watery chuckle* Oh. Yes I suppose that makes sense.

Please imagine Maedhros and Maglor and C&C ping-ponging back and forth here, COMPLETELY CONFUSED by this conversation. But desperately trying to add up the bits they’re hearing into some kind of coherent narrative. Maedhros is squinting at Annatar with sudden DEEP suspicion.

Maglor: I’m sorry, can we back up a bit here? Fourth Age VALINOR????

Tyelpe: *sighs* *sits down next to Frodo* We all might as well sit down, this is going to take a while.

^__^

HEY.

I had the most interesting dream after falling asleep switching between the latest chapter of The Horrowing and a time travel fix it in another fandom. I thought you might enjoy a brief summary?

Post fic canon Annatar, Finrod, Celebrimbor, and Frodo getting the most hilarious do over of the First Age.

Finrod and Celebrimbor got dropped in their past bodies, bc same souls. Which has Finrod JUST captured by Sauron, before any of his 10 have been munched.

Celebrimbor is of course having a surreal not quite panic attack in Nargothrond.

Annatar, well. Annatar is CHANGED. He is quite literally too different from what he once was for them to qualify as the same soul anymore. Which is gratifying. If inconvenient bc there are now TWO of him, Annatar and full on Sauron. But they're similar enough that Annatar was dropped very close to Sauron.

Frodo is an elf. Dream logic was that hobbits do not exist yet, and his soul has touches of Annatar and Aman. He looks disconcertingly like a mix of Annatar and Celebrimbor, and they are NOT thinking about that right now. Hopefully ever.

Most of the dream centered around all of them doing their best to set aside freak outs, while getting Finrod and his merry band (plus Beren) OUT of Sauron's grasp.

There was a FANTASTIC moment where on the way out, Sauron comes face to face and soul to soul with Annatar and he's just like;

Sauron: *jaw dropped fully horrified face* WHAT are YOU?!?!?

Annatar: *shoving elves behind him, nose in the air* Wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy. *uses Song to blast him through a wall while he's distracted*

The whole thing featured 10 other elves and Beren as a baffled peanut gallery.

Meanwhile Celebrimbor is weighing the pros and cons of just- drugging his uncles and shoving them in a back room somewhere where he can bolt the door. He thinks he can maybe get Huan to help if he explains?

It was SO much fun.

(hope you have a good day!)

Oh my god. This may be the best ask I've ever gotten, for so many reasons.

The fact that your subconscious was like "Yeah if Frodo's getting a new body it looks like Annatar For Some Reason"

The image of future!Annatar getting into a fight with Sauron in front of Finrod (probably happy about this development) and Beren and the other 10 (INCREDIBLY CONFUSED)

The fact that the dream was partially centered on everybody trying not to panic, which is in fact what the Harrowing is all about for a while

Absolutely incredible.

...I feel so bad for poor Celebrimbor dealing with Nargothrond all by himself while the others are off having adventures. I hope their next stop after the rescue is to swing by and pick him up. Also, I dearly want to know what Annatar has to say to Beren on the subject of his current Luthien-and-Thingol-and-Silmarils situation.

[arc-misadventures]

Meet the Family Au Rin: Rin takes Jaune to her destroyed town where she made makeshift graves for her parents. Rin she talks about her and Jaune while Jaune just supports her. (Nora and Pyrrha are taking down any Grimm near by. The entire team already killed the Nuckalevee)

Meet the Family: Rin

Rin: So this... this is what's left of my hometown... It was destroyed by that, Nuckalevee we killed...

Jaune: This place is... whoa...

Rin: Yeah.. My family's house was right there.

Jaune: That pile of rubble, and ash?

Rin: Yes... My mom died in that house...

Jaune: Oh... I'm sorry... I'm so sorry to hear that, Rin.

Rin: It's okay, Jaune. My father also died here... somewhere... He died trying to kill the, Knucklevee. But, he failed... I met, Nora after that when we were trying to escape from here.

Jaune: Are you okay, Rin? Being here, after everything that has happened... It must be hard for you.

Rin: It's a little hard, but... y-your here with me, Jaune.. so... It doesn't hurt as much...

Jaune: Rin...

Rin: ...

Rin: I... I want to make a memorial...

Jaune: A memorial?

Rin: Y-Yeah... I know how to make shift one based on my families traditions... c-could you help me make one?

Jaune: It would be my honour.

~~~

Rin: Okay... It's done...

Jaune: You know... for a pile of rocks... It's really nice.

Rin: Thank you, Jaune... this means a lot to me.

Jaune: Like I said, Rin; It's my honour.

Rin: T-Thank you...

Jaune: Are we done, or is there something else we need to do?

Rin: Well... We bow our heads, and say a silent prayer to the departed. Unless you're not comfortable with that...?

Jaune: That's fine. Alright, after you then?

Rin: (Clap!)

Jaune: (Clap!)

Rin: Mom, Dad... It's me... Rin... I'm doing well... I've avenged you, I slayed the, Knucklevee... And, I've also found, a home.. I have new friends, and a new family... and... and someone special I want to spend the rest of my life with... Thank you for all that you've done for me... I love you... Goodbye...

Jaune: Mr. and Mrs. Rin... You're daughter... Lian Rin is a wonderful person. She is brave, warm, sweet, and beautiful... I thank you for bring her into this world... And, I swear on my families name of, Luna Jaune Arc that I will protect her... and, if I could have your permission... to one day... marry her, and take her as my wife... I may have to marry several girls... they won't take no for an answer. But, nonetheless! I wish to marry her... I pray for your blessing... I love her, and I want her to stay in my life, now, and forever... I promise... May your souls rest in peace...

Jaune: Okay... now what?

Rin: I guess we can leave now... there's nothing else to be done...

Jaune: Yeah... the others will be waiting for us. But, don't you want to check your old home? You might find something there?

Rin: N-No... Everything was destroyed in the fire. Not even my mothers remains...

Jaune: Alright I thought I should...

(Tink~!)

Jaune: Hmm...? What's this...?

Jaune: A ring?

Rin: A ring...? Wait...?! That's my moms wedding band!

Jaune: Your moms wedding ring? Well... That's one hell of an answer...

Rin: C-Can I have that back, Jaune...? Please...?

Jaune: Of course; Hold out your hand.

Rin: Okay.

Rin: W-W-Wait...?! Jaune that's my...?!

Jaune: There... Perfect fit...

Rin: Jaune... Y-You didn't need to put it there... people will think you asked me to marry you...

Jaune: Do you want me to get a different ring then?

Rin: ...

Rin: W-What...? W-What are you talking about, Jaune...?

Jaune: Rin...

Jaune: Marry me?

Rin: Yes.

Jaune: That was fast. You barely even thought about it.

Rin: I've been thinking about it since I first met you...

Jaune: Really?

Rin: W-Well... not imminently after meeting you... but, seeing how you treated the three of us... I couldn't help but fall in love with you... So... I... I can't help, but imagine being married to you, Jaune. So... Yes, I will marry you, Jaune Luna Arc...

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Luna is actually my first name...

Rin: R-Really?

Jaune: Never liked it as a first name...

Rin: Well... I'll make you love it, Luna...

Jaune: We'll see about that... Lian...

~~~

Nora: YESYESYESYES!!!

Pyrrha: Oh gods... That was beautiful!

Nora: Yes! Kiss the girl, Jaune! Shower her in love, and affection!

Pyrrha: One down two to go!

Nora: Bet ya he'll ask me to marry him before you!

Pyrrha: I'll take that bet!

Beowulf: GRRR! RAHH!

(BANG!)

Nora: Excuse me?! We're having a moment here?!

Pyrrha: Motherfuckers!

~~~

(KA-BOOM!!!)

JR: ...

Jaune: I think, Nora's blown a fuse...

Rin: Pyrrha also...

JR: ...

Jaune: Well then... shall we get going then?

Rin: Let's...

Jaune: After you then, Mrs. Arc.

Rin: This is the best day ever~!

[ellouchi]

Yet again I see people mischaracterizing Jimmy as some jerk who lashes out on people for no reason and berates them for anything minor like where did you get this from did you actually read any dialogues in the game????????

Jimmy really only threw one shade at Daisuke, he didn't think he was spoilt rich kid he just said he was covered by his parents because he had support system unlike all of them grown up adults. Most of times Jimmy just awkwardly slid off silly things Daisuke said, like the ladies comment or when they were mixing the drink. Daisuke actually trusted and listened to Jimmy throughout the game (to his own detriment unfortunately). Jimmy sent him to the vent because he was the captain and he wasn't going to do the dirty job obviously and if the Swansea somehow woke up Jimmy could shift the blame like he had already got away with. Even when eventually things went to shits we don't see him blaming Daisuke because Jimmy recognised that it was his decision to send him there. Jimmy didn't want to fatally injure him, he tried to "fix it later" which didn't help at all and Jimmy felt guilty about it.

Jimmy treated Anya dog shit half the time it's true but not to the extent some people make it to be. He loves control, he has said so to Curly's face, to ours and that's why he made sure to put her down and belittle her. That's why he (potentially repeatedly) sexually assaulted Anya — because rape is form of power play, he didn't even want her sexually. Initially, Jimmy didn't hate Anya, he just didn't like her and the feeling was mutual. He continued to do bare minimum for her, like when checking up on the crew. If I had to guess how Jim viewed her by the end, then he most likely found her inferior, incompetent, always putting work on his shoulders (or responsibilities he didn't want (pregnancy)), together with being paranoid of her having the potential to ruin his life. That's why he got so pissed off when he saw her crying to Swansea, very likely having already told another person of what he has done. (I'm 100% sure he holds the grudge for telling Curly, who then rushed to "fix things", making Curly seem like a responsible captain which Jim hated.)

Jimmy never made any attempts at understanding or sympathising with Swansea. He knew him longer than Daisuke yet the latter understood him better. Jimmy probably thought that Swansea was an old grumpy man who hated everyone and everything. As the game went on Jimmy just considered Swansea to be nothing but a selfish drunkard (due to immediately assuming he was hoarding cryopod to himself). After the vent incident who Jim blames for the absence of medicine? If Swansea wasn't so stubborn (for like, few times) Jimmy wouldn't have need to spend prescious recourses on him. He could have saved Daisuke instead and fix his fuck up but Swansea ruined it twice. Swan doing arguably the right thing by putting out Daisuke out of his misery only solidified his role as a villain and a threat in Jimmy's eyes, that's why probably as a revenge (for not giving him enough time to think) he went for the gun instead of cryopod like Swansea allowed him to.

And finally Curly. Honestly this deserves a separate book on it's own at this point. It's almost 3 a.m. here so I'll only mention some stuff. Jim aggressively lashes out twice on-screen, first time because he literally lost his dream job, listened to Curly "bitching about having said dream job" and couldn't come face to the fact that Curly was "abandoning him while also looking unscratched from the fall of the ladder" while Jimmy will return to his struggle of life (he didn't even know about the pregnancy yet...). Second time was when Anya endangered Jim's new status as a captain and like I mentioned reminded him that she could fuck up his life even more. Feeling like he was losing control, Jimmy beat up poor Curly who was stripped out of said control by non other than Jimmy. Finally, he was violent off screen by destroying Polle, out of frustration, irritation from the thing, and/or hatred and resentment for the company (que "Pony express is dead" line). In one instance he says "He's mocking us" which confirms that it's about Jimmy's ego.

In conclusion STOP MAKING MY SHITTY CHARACTER SHITTY IN THE WRONG WAYS. This isn't even a full blown analysis of Jimmy's character but accumulation of posts I read and conclusions I came with.

Focus on his already preexisting shitty qualities stop making up new ones ffs signing out.