#I've posted this by mistake like four times already

[thexgrayxlady]

What I read in October and November

The Drowning City by Amanda Drownum - 2.75/5.00 While it was a fun adventure in an interesting setting, the character motivations felt muddy. I wanted to like the complicated politics, but the plot was sometimes hard to follow and didn't involve as much necromancy as I would have liked. I'd still give the next book in the series a chance if I found it at the used book superstore.

Our Wives Under the Sea by Julia Armfield - 2.00/5.00 I don't think this book is bad, it was just sold to me as something it wasn't. If this was recommended to you because you loved Into the Drowning Deep and wanted to scratch that deep sea horror itch, you may be entitled to financial compensation. If you're interested in a slightly surreal meditation on grief, with very pretty writing check it out.

The Lights of Prague by Nicole Jarvis - 2.50/5.00 As a debut novel, it's pretty good, but I wasn't quite feeling it. I didn't realize that it was going to be as romance focused as it was, but that's my bad. I just thought I was getting something a little more Castlevania. The setting is fantastic and well described. I am all about the gaslamp fantasy right now. The magic feels really magical and fantastic in a way that sometimes a harder magic system doesn't.

Unfortunately, the main characters are a bit flat and I don't think the story was served particularly well by having both POVs. They have more chemistry with every other character they interact with than each other. I loved Domek's relationship with Kaja, but Domek on his own does not have a strong presence on the page. Ora has a very strong Not Like Other Pijavica vibe that gets old very quickly. She views the rest of her kind as monstrous vermin to an extent where when she feels betrayed by Domek being a lamp lighter, it feels disingenuous and unearned. If we saw more pijavica like her, who just want to go about their unlife in peace, that betrayal would hit much harder. The ending has a bad antagonist pileup that leads to none of the antagonists feeling as impactful as if the author had just stuck to one.

Even with all that in mind, I think the author has a lot of potential and I would love to see how she develops as a writer. You could tell that she had a good time writing this.

Dracula's Child by JS Barnes - 3.25/5.00 I genuinely like this book, and it's interesting to read a Dracula sequel written in the style of the original novel. It builds slowly, but the letters, journal entries, and newspaper clippings are mostly short, so the book doesn't feel quite as long as it is. Unfortunately, it also makes it really easy to put it down until it really gets going. But when the horror starts to hit, it really hits. All that being said, it was good to catch up with my good friends Jonathan and Mina. However, I just preferred The City of Doctor Moreau.

Murtagh by Christopher Paolini - 4.50/5.00 This is a completely biased review. I don't know if I can confidently say that this book is good, only that it brought me immeasurable joy. I loved every second of it. I would absolutely 100% read another seven hundred pages of this. Hell, I would read another 700 pages of Murtagh and Thorn doing slice of life things and side quests.

I love Murtagh and Thorn's relationship so much. They are so good to each other and deserve to have fun and act their age and not have so many responsibilities and problems thrown on them. The scene where they were just playing together is by far the best scene in the book.

I haven't read the original quartet since high school so I don't remember much, but I feel like this book does a good job getting you back up to speed. I feel like Murtagh approaches magic in a very different way than Eragon and sometimes it's very interesting and creative and sometimes you get, "Fuck it. Brute force time." Like, there is something very entertaining about a character both sorting out a magical laser beam and going, "I don't have time to figure out a clever way around your wards, so I'm going to harden the air around your head and you're going to suffocate."

As a board certified, card carrying Oldest Daughter, I liked that Murtagh was really bitter about how things turned out for him. I completely understood why he would rather swallow broken glass than ask Eragon for help. I know people thought that Murtagh and Thorn were too angsty and made stupid choices, but they are very young and have been traumatized for their whole lives, so they deserve some bad choices and bad emo poetry. As a treat. And Thorn deserves to say snarky things about said emo poetry. As a treat.

I know that some people thought that the torture went on for far too long, but I was down for it. If anything, I would have wanted more.

That being said, I have my gripes with it. The pacing is weird, and while I was just vibing and having a good time, I could see why someone wouldn't like it. The ending is very abrupt, and I wasn't the biggest fan of how some things played out. Paolini is not very good at writing poetry. I would have preferred fewer poems and Thorn snarking more at the ones we get.

The main villain's name is really stupid, and I couldn't get over it. I know it's not pronounced the way it's spelled, but I couldn't get over it. There are definitely more than a few moments where the author is too clever for his own good. Like, dammit Paolini. don't use an archaic spelling of a common word, when it looks so much like a typo, on the first page. It sends the wrong message about the quality control that went into your book.

I still think that Paolini isn't good at writing romance. While Murtagh and Nasuada are, by thin margins, his least bad romance, I'm happy it's kept to a minimum. While I'm not sure I'd read a future installment, I hope that it is similarly in the background because there are scenes from To Sleep in a Sea of Stars that I cannot unhear. I am scared by them. I am entitled to financial compensation.

In the most affectionate way possible, I hope that this book finds its way to the lonely middle school girl who needs it.

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[primofate]

Genshin Angst Headcanons - Why the two of you broke up

Note: Had an unexpected free day! I haven't written in a while, please excuse the mistakes, if any.

Disclaimer at the end of the post

Warning: Some are pretty predictable. Each of them have their own issues, lore wise, so some are lore heavy. You might not agree with some of them, but its how I see it, so to each their own. Let me know what you think! Some are quite angsty. Some scenes it's you breaking up with him and some are vice versa. Didn't feel like writing Razor, Venti and Xingqiu.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Baizhu, Bennett, Chongyun, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Gorou, Heizou, Itto, Kaeya, Kaveh, Kazuha, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Thoma, Tighnari, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Personal Favourites in this work: Lyney, Itto, Kazuha

Aether

Sister issues. Enough said.

He realized he didn't have enough time to spare romancing with someone.

Somewhere along the way he felt guilt that he was enjoying his time with you while his sister went through some sort of villain origin story that seemingly turned her bad.

Top off all the adventuring, searching, solving problems for other people that he did...Where did that leave you, exactly?

"...I'm sorry, Y/N... I just... I don't think this is the right time for me to be together with you,"

Albedo

Contrary to popular belief it wouldn't be his lack of time or extreme focus on his alchemical experiments that would break the two of you up. He knows how to manage his time.

It was the RESULTS of experiments and his research that would put him away from you.

The possibility that HE or his world, was way too dangerous for you.

How many "Albedos" did Rhinedottir really create? Was there more than three? Perhaps four, five? And what happens when you come face to face with another Albedo?

"I'm afraid...There are far too many dangers surrounding myself... There are answers that I can't find...and perhaps that's the reason why my answer is to part ways with you,"

Alhaitham

Too much of a nonchalant attitude.

He expressed some kind of interest in you...but it's like... once in a blue moon. 95% of the time you're not sure if he's really into you. It almost seems like he's more into that book he reads all the time.

Simply just not good at expressing himself. Like, at all. Hides behind a "whatever works" and "I don't care about what other people think of me" attitude, unfortunately that seems to include you.

Is so straightforward that sometimes it hurts, but he's really just telling the truth through logical analysis.

will act like the breakup didn't hurt nor affect him at all. In turn it hurts you instead.

"I see. So you've had enough of me... And you only spoke up now? Pointing it out earlier could've diverted us from this path...If that's how you feel already I suggest that we stop seeing each other,"

"That's it? You're not even going to try and work it out with me?"

"What's there to work out? You've made yourself clear. You're not satisfied with the way I treat you, and I'm afraid I'm not going to change the way I act just for your pleasure... It'd be more meaningful for you to find someone who fits your criterias,"

Ayato

entering a relationship with a noble was not as easy as one thought.

It's not just about being together forever and feeling lucky because Ayato is rich and your whole life is set, it's also the not fitting in, the etiquette, the whispers from townfolk that you were too ordinary for him, the work that you needed to do if you were to become his wife.

All that was not really a big problem for you, but Ayato seemed not to know of your struggles, he was extremely busy, and when he wasn't, he seemed to think that everything was well and fine, since you were getting all your basic needs met and even more.

"...So I'm sorry, Ayato. This is just... All too much for me. I'm sorry,"

"...I understand. Forgive me, it seems that I've overlooked a lot of things...Perhaps it is as you say, that it'd be better for us to grow apart rather than grow together,"

Baizhu

because he is a ticking time bomb, no matter which way he looked it's not going to end well for both of you.

He either dies early or lives forever. In both scenarios he anticipates that the two of you are just going to be in a world of hurt.

Besides, he didn't mean to get so attached to someone in the first place, he knew his quest for immortality was long and arduous. You didn't deserve to walk that difficult road too.

While breaking up, will conceal the fact that he's only thinking of you and will possibly hurt you in the process.

"I'm sorry, but it's for the best. I ask that you continue going forward without me, there's no space for you in my... ideal future,"

Bennett

We all know it...it's his bad luck. However, it wasn't YOU who had a problem with it, it was HIM.

You understood that his bad luck was just some extended part of him, plus it's not like it was always bad, there were a lot of good times too. Plenty!

But the guilt ate him up whenever the two of you were stuck in a seemingly impossible scenario and predicament, brought on by his luck. He just had enough of it one day.

"I...I can't keep doing this to you every day! It's not fair..."

will be on the brink of tears before he even starts.

"Maybe it's better if you find someone else to adventure with, Y/N, sorry...!"

runs away before you can even get a word in.

Chongyun

Thinks he's not good enough in every aspect. It's really, seriously not about you. He thinks he's lacking in everything. Strength, maturity, experience, confidence.

So badly wants to stay with you but feels like he's not good enough and thinks that you're better off with someone else.

"D-Don't misunderstand... It's not because I don't like you anymore... I just...Please find someone else!"

Cyno

his bad jokes and TCG addiction. just kidding, you're not that shallow.

A lot of people are intimidated by him being the General Mahamatra because he gives importance to justice. While you, who had seen a bit more of him than other people had, it seemed more of an obsession to uphold the Akademiya's law and integrity.

This was not a big problem to you, you liked how he was serious at work.

Until one day when you were accused of plagiarising one of your papers and Cyno was the one sent to give you a first offense warning. The Akademiya knew of your relationship, that's probably why they sent him, to make it harder on the two of you.

Cyno didn't listen to your explanations on how it was an honest mistake, he still gave you the warning that you "deserved"

From then on it had just been different between the two of you, so it was really a mutual breakup. Or so you thought.

"...After that, I just realized that maybe this isn't the right time for us... We're both working for the Akademiya, we both take our jobs seriously...Unfortunately that seems to just be getting in the way of us...I think it's best if we stop seeing each other,"

"...I see." he pauses for a minute, as if tossing your words in his mind. "I...agree. Parting ways would certainly make work easier for both of us...it's the professional thing to do,"

Dainsleif

Has not moved on from his past.

Sure, everyone has their own baggage to carry, their own history to live through...but Dainsleif has heavier things than that. He seemed to wake up every day thinking of Khaenri'ah and the days long past. Was it regret? Nostalgia? Loneliness? You didn't know. You just knew that he wasn't really completely THERE with you in the present. Part of him still lived in the past.

When you explained that you felt like the two of you were not moving forward together and that it seemed like he wanted to go back to the past instead, he got offended.

"...My past is something that I carry forever, you'd claimed that you understood that," he starts.

"I do! But carrying it with you and letting it drag you backwards are two different things!"

He falters for a moment, only to leave you with his last words before turning away from you forever: "You will never understand, the weight that I carry,"

Diluc

is too guarded. You'd been friends for a long, long, long, long time before he decided he could let you in enough and be more intimate with you.

Even then everything was going at a snail's pace, though you were extremely patient with him.

The biggest problem with Diluc was that the two of you would progress one day, take a step forward, and then the next day it was like the two of you took two steps back.

Example: The two of you went out for a simple stargazing excursion late one night, it was nice and he had been incredibly affectionate. The next day he had trouble even meeting your gaze, and disappeared to do his work. It was also a little awkward during dinnertime. This scenario had happened more than once.

Hint: the closer he got to you the more afraid he became, thinking that he would one day lose you too.

"I...I can't. I love you but I...I've waited far too long. I'm sorry. I'm tired of this endless chase for you!"

He couldn't even say a thing. He'd wanted to ask you to stay, to wait for him a little longer, but he already knew how incredibly selfish that would have been. Instead, he grimaced, and looked away from your gaze, trying to find something worthwhile to say. There was only silence for a few moments.

"Goodbye Diluc," that's when you turned away.

Gorou

worships Kokomi too much and your insecurities just kept circling around in your head.

You know its his job. You know he isn't like that but the problem was YOU and not him.

Simply said you let your insecurity eat up the relationship between the two of you.

You couldn't bring yourself to say that you were jealous of the way he admired Kokomi so you broke up with him with another reason in tow.

Unfortunately, you're not a very good liar face to face so you did a butthole move and actually broke up with him through a letter. You just couldn't face him and tell him why.

All you mentioned in the letter was that you needed time to think and be away from him, and told him not to worry because it was your problem, not his.

Poor Gorou reread that letter over and over, trying to understand what went wrong.

Heizou

is just a natural flirt. You're not sure if he's doing it on purpose or not and you're not sure if he's even aware he's like that.

Anyway you'd seen him getting overly friendly (just another word for flirting) with a few other people a couple of times. You didn't let it get to you the first, fourth or even eighth time but you realized that he KNOWS that you're watching him do that.

So you confront him about it, but he claims that it's just his way of gathering information from others. People like to hear good things and some people are more susceptible to flirtatious comments so he resorts to that for his investigation sometimes.

You didn't really completely buy it and even if you did, it's not like this was healthy for your relationship. You just couldn't make yourself comfortable with it.

*You just chalked it up to the two of you being incompatible.

"I'm just not comfortable with that...I don't think I have to say sorry for how I feel but...I'm sorry anyway because I know you're just doing your job... It's probably best if we part ways here..."

"Is there any way to change your mind?" he genuinely asks.

You only give a lopsided smile. "You're a detective, I think you already know the answer to that,"

Yet he didn't stop you from walking away.

Itto

Kept breaking promises because he was too airheaded or too occupied doing something "stupid" with the kids or with his gang.

Pretty soon it just felt like you were an afterthought while everyone else in his life took precedent.

Got a ramen date? Oops, sorry! Got caught up looking for a strong onikabuto in the forest!

Needed his help to move some things? Gah, he was vandalising the bulletin boards, so he's running a bit late!

What's more you didn't actually mind that carefree, airheaded side of him...but it really got to you when he couldn't even seem to make you a priority. Not once.

He only realized that when he came running, late again, and stood face to face with a crying you.

"Hey sorry Y/N, I was just--...Why are you crying?!" is completely dumbfounded and clueless, mostly because when he came late, you had always shrugged it off with a smile on your face, or so he thought. This time you had a completely different reaction.

"I hate you...*hic* I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!"

Shocked beyond belief. It wasn't like you to just blow up like that, but he couldn't do anything except watch you turn and run away from him after that exclamation.

Kaeya

Sometimes you're not sure if he takes you seriously.

Recently, he's not where he says he is, you don't know why he doesn't just tell you where he is.

He said he'd be working late, but then you find out he's at Angel's Share.

He said he'll be at Angel's Share, but then you catch word from Jean that he's out on a late mission.

He said he's escorting a caravan to Mondstadt but he's actually on assignment in Liyue.

It came to the point where you altogether just stopped looking for him cause half of the time you couldn't find him. It's like he's avoiding you or something, which, actually, seems just about right since he's been so busy with "work"

It reached a breaking point when, for a week, you were unable to bring him the lunch you prepared...because he was not where he said he was going to be. It was starting to get annoying.

"I don't understand why you're lying to me! Why do you have to tell me you'll be at Angel's Share this afternoon when you're not? Do you realize you make me walk all the way there only to come all the way back with nothing achieved?"

"I'm sorry snowflake, that wasn't my intention," though he still chuckles despite knowing full well that you were about to turn away.

"You know what, let me know when you're ready to stop making jokes. Until then, don't bother contacting me,"

He just didn't expect you to actually walk away from him.

Kaveh

Entertains everyone and anyone. Naturally kind at heart, will stop for anyone in trouble...even that flirtatious man/woman who is clearly just pining for his attention.

No he doesn't quite realize this.

The same person had asked for his help at least 4 times now and all 4 times he had been happy to offer a helping hand.

The last straw was when he was invited into the stranger's house, they had apparently needed someone to help them move and re-arrange furniture and he did, working till almost dinner time.

You'd caught him right by the person's door, because Kaveh was actually honest and told you he'd be helping them today, but the person was clearly eyeing Kaveh rather flirtatiously.

"Come again next time," you heard the person say rather happily. Kaveh only replies with "If I have nothing else to do, I suppose,"

"Kaveh, they're coming onto you and you keep letting it happen!"

"I'm not certain what you're talking about...They just needed some help around their house, nothing suspicious happened at all. Even if there was, I won't let anything happen between me and a stranger!"

"Then STOP helping them!"

"There isn't anything wrong with lending a hand...It was a quick move of things, that's all,"

"How would YOU feel if I just went into someone's house and kept helping them "move" things?"

"...I would think that's nice of you,"

You actually threw your hands up. "Oh, forget it! You know what, for someone who LOVES helping others, you're not doing such a great job of helping ME," then walked away and never came back. "Good riddance,"

Kazuha

He's a wandering samurai. You knew what you were getting into but you didn't expect dating him to be so hard.

He was gone for weeks on end, and you were not getting on that boat with him. In essence the two of you were just not ready to follow each other to the end's of the Earth, and that was fair. The two of you were young.

Kazuha kind of saw it coming, whenever he visited you, you seemed less spirited and he had an inkling as to why. The time apart was just too much for you.

It was a rather clean break actually. A real mutual breakup that the two of you agreed on.

"...You could say it's just not the right time for us," you even managed to laugh under your breath and he did the same, though it was barely audible.

"...Mm. There are matters that you need to attend to here...and there are things that I need to do out there," he slowly stood up from his sitting position next to you and still gazed at you rather lovingly. "...Perhaps, in another world, you and I are bound together,"

You gazed back forlornly, "...Just not in this one, it looks like,"

Lyney

because he will always choose his siblings over you. Always.

Though that's not a bad thing because you also think that family is important...somewhere along the way you realized that family is the ONLY thing he had and saw.

Example: Lynette and you had gotten ill at the same time one winter morning. Perhaps it was the cold that was passing around Fontaine. Lyney had been so worried about Lynette, that he seemed to have forgotten about you for the next few days. In fact, Lyney didn't even realize that you caught the cold too. You had only heard from Freminet, who you happened to cross paths with, that Lynette was also ill.

You thought that incident was the end of it, but really it seemed that whenever Lyney wanted to hang out with you, Lynette had to be there too. You tried to understand...after all there's still that mystery of disappearing women in Fontaine.

The breakup was induced when Lyney completely forgot about your birthday, because Freminet's was around the same time as yours. You helped Lyney prepare everything for Freminet, and said nothing about your own.

You realized that there was nothing wrong with choosing family over everything else...but the problem here was that Lyney didn't even have space for you in the first place.

So you left without saying anything. You figured he'd get over it quick. You had even gone so far as to move away from the main city of Fontaine and out into another island, because what would you say if he found you? That you were jealous of his siblings? You weren't going to ruin a family like that and it wasn't right to make him choose...so you just left without a word.

Neuvillette

Had a whole brainrot for this man:

Part 1

Part 2

Scaramouche

surprisingly it's not his anger issues.

It's the way he wouldn't acknowledge your relationship. You wonder how you even got into one with him.

There's no public show of affection, but even behind closed doors it rarely happened.

You knew that he was going to be like that, and so you didn't mind it all that much.

It was getting a bit much though when, out in public, he would walk further in front of you and refused to walk next to you. When he pretended like he didn't even know you. When he didn't stop to help you even when another man had shown interest in you, bordering on uncomfortable.

The more time passed the more you simply felt unloved...but for some reason you still blamed yourself.

"...I...don't know. Maybe you find me undesirable, or just...unappealing. Maybe you're embarrassed of me or...or..." maybe you just didn't care in the first place, you thought to yourself.

There was a long silence. Of you turning your gaze away, of him still piercing into yours. And then...

"Tsk...don't waste my time...Leave if you want to leave, door's open,"

Tartaglia

This one is simple. It's his obsession for fighting plus his complete disregard for himself. It's a constant heart attack for you. At some point the anxiety is just too much for you to handle.

Imagine living every day just wondering if he's safe at the same time knowing that he just loves to look for trouble.

The foul legacy that you know of, he uses it with disregard as well, despite knowing that it wasn't good for him.

And there are even days where you know he was heavily wounded but didn't go to you, in an attempt to shield you from worry.

It's a constant battle trying to stay sane and unworried, until one day it all just becomes too much.

"...Nothing I say will change anything, Tartaglia. This is who you are...This is who you need to be..." you whisper while bandaging his knuckles. He lets out a short hum.

It was silent all up until you finished with his hand, you squeeze it gently. "...I love you but...I can't keep doing this to myself, I'm tired...more so than I have ever been before,"

He lets your hand slip away from his knuckles, and that was the last he saw of you.

Thoma

This one is also simple. He was always taking care of others and running errands for others that he sometimes just couldn't catch a break.

Just a classic case of not enough time for you since he had a job to do for the Kamisato Clan.

He knows it, and feels awful about it. So he's the one who makes the move.

"It hurts that I can't give you what you deserve, Y/N. This isn't it... You deserve more than this but I can't give you that and I'm sorry. Please look for the love that you deserve,"

Tighnari

Remembers everything. Can be critical of things you've done, specially if he thinks there's a better way to do it.

Simply said you just feel stupid in front of him sometimes.

He doesn't mean to, but he sometimes forgets to appreciate or give praise to the things that you do well and even if he does, it tends to be short lived compared to his constructive criticisms.

Pretty soon you felt like he only looks at the bad things you do, and never the good. Though he was really only trying to teach and guide you as an equal.

He in fact feels that you are one of the few people who can keep up educational conversations with him.

The problem is he kind of forgets that you're his lover, and that you would enjoy his praise and affection from time to time.

"Do you... Do you ever have anything nice to say other than 'good work' or 'great observation'?" the words were out of your mouth before you could hold yourself back. Sometimes it was tiring to feel like you weren't good enough.

There's a flash of surprise that crosses Tighnari's expression for a split second, before he recovers. "...Had I not been praising your work enough lately? My apologies... It has a lot of merits, I just thought that you wanted my opinion on how to make it better,"

You opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again right after to ponder on his words. Somehow even that had managed to make you feel embarrassed. It was here you knew that the problem also lied within yourself.

"...Sorry, Tighnari...I think I'll need some time alone,"

He obliges quickly and asks. "That's reasonable. When would you like me to come back?"

"...Let me rephrase that... I need some time away. From us."

Xiao

Unfortunately there's a lot of things wrong here... his lack of affection. His aloof personality. His dedication to his yaksha duties. Despite that he does actually try to be gentlemanly or respectful of you.

The worst of it is that he didn't know how to be in a relationship, in other words he just wasn't ready for one, or perhaps he would never be ready for one.

He didn't understand that humans craved companionship and sometimes touch. He didn't understand that meant having to favour you over others, sometimes even putting you first over his yaksha duties.

Worst of it all was when he shut himself off from you, sometimes for days on end, when his karmic debt was too high. He only really did it to protect you, but never realized how isolated that made you feel.

When you confronted him about it, he felt attacked. Hiding away was the only way he knew how to cope...why couldn't you understand that?

"Let me help you, Xiao,"

"I don't need your help!" his tone would make you wince and just like that he disappears into a billow of smoke.

You never returned to Wangshu Inn after that. If he couldn't let you in, there was no use trying to knock on his heart. Xiao being Xiao, never sought you ought again either.

Zhongli

He had experienced so many things and you had listened to many a tales from him.

This is what caused you to realize that you hadn't even experienced life at all, and yet here you were willing to tie yourself down to him.

It just didn't feel like it added up. Here he was with all this knowledge of the world and here you were who had never even stepped outside of Liyue. By no means were you stupid, but you felt that you could be better not only for him, but for yourself if you learned more.

There was just such a huge gap in life experiences, and though you never expected to get to his level (he was a God who had lived for a long time, you would never catch up to him) you at least wanted to see what was out there with your own eyes instead of through his stories.

He understood that wholeheartedly, and had no qualms in letting you go.

"You will always have a place with me, Y/N. No amount of lifetimes will change that,"

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Disclaimer: Relationships will always have some sort of problem along the way, maybe big, maybe small but I just want to reiterate that breaking up is not always the solution. Communicating is very important. So to those of you who like taking fanfiction too seriously, let it be known that this is just a work of fiction. I don't actually suggest breaking up with someone as soon as there is the slight indication of a problem (Just saw someone commenting on a similar themed post for Haikyuu that this wouldn't happen in the real world if both parties were mature... I mean, sure, but, idk, you must be fun in parties... it's called fiction for a reason...)

[smileysuh]

comfort cuisine - TEASER

🌙 starring. Johnny Suh x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. You’ve never felt a feral need like this before, but it’s not necessarily the primal type of drive. Instead, it’s a feeling of wanting to be close to this man- who you’ve been next to for so many years, but unable to touch. Except, he’s touching you now, and you want more.

tw/cw. unprotected sex, breast worship/massaging, big dick Johnny, fingering, pussy stretching prep, 'it's finger licking good,' praise, dirty talk, masturbation, multiple reader orgasms, cumming together, creampie, soft sex, longing, fluff, etc… I pet names: (hers) honey.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 10.8k

🍭 aus. aged up/widower dad!John, best friends to lovers, Chef!John, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I'm so happy that people loved Line Chef Mark in my fic Real Talk, I received so many messages about giving Head Chef John his own love story, and this is what I came up with in the past four months :) it's a little different from what I normally do, but I wanted to continue with that 'slice of life' theme and venture into a plot line I've never tried before with widower/single dad John :)

“So two line chefs called in, huh?” you prompt, tucking your legs up and making room for the large man on the sofa.

“I expected it from Haechan, but Mark’s generally pretty reliable. His girlfriend was on shift today, so I know he wasn’t skipping to be with her- I’m guessing they got pretty messed up last night.”

“They’re young,” you point out, accepting a beer from him. “We used to be young.”

“Used to be,” Johnny laughs, taking a swig of his drink. 

Looking at this man- this father, you realize maybe he never really got the chance to be young. At twenty five, he had a six year old, he wasn't running around blacking out and getting hung over, he was working his way up the employment ladder, dreaming about a better future for his daughter.

“You mentioned Mark has a girlfriend, I think I’ve heard about her a few times now, it’s interesting that she was in and he wasn’t.”

“I’m going to be honest, I love Mark, he’s a great kid- but, he can sometimes be peer pressured into things. Haechan has a hold on Mark unlike any I’ve seen, they bring out… interesting sides of each other.”

You laugh at the description, and it’s clear there’s more on Johnny’s mind, so you wait for him to continue. 

“It’s nice that Mark is young and in love, I can understand that- but at the same time, I just hope he doesn’t make the same mistakes I did. Not that Soonbok is a mistake, of course- I just mean that… life is fragile. You think you’re going to be with someone forever, and then you’re reminded of how frail things can be.”

You frown at his words. Even after all of these years, Johnny still holds so much pain about his lost wife. You want to do your best to help Johnny in every aspect of his life, especially emotional, but this is a topic you never know how to approach. He’s right for grieving, his ex was his first love, his true love- how is there anything you could ever say to make him feel better about her passing?

You open your mouth, only to close it, and Johnny watches you intently. Sometimes he looks at you, the way he’s looking at you right now, and you wonder if he feels the same level of connection with you that you feel with him. You wonder if he wants you to kiss him, if a kiss would make him feel better, if it would - if even for a moment - help him forget about the pains he’s faced in his life.

But it’s because of the pains he’s faced that neither of you can close the distance, you’d like to think about it that way at least. Even after all these years, it’s still too early, so you simply reach out and gently squeeze his hand.

Johnny offers you a smile, and you’re glad that in some small way, maybe you’ve helped him.

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[matryosika]

Recording Sessions

Pairing — 3racha and Reader

Wordcount — 3,485 words

Genre — Smut

Warnings — Dom!Chan and Changbin, Switch(sub lean)!Jisung, consensual voice recording. Dirty talk, use of petnames (slut), mild humiliation, oral sex (m. receiving), brief spanking, unprotected penetrative sex, creampie, mild cum play, sex in a recording booth.

Autor's note — Wrote this a while ago for a commission, but as I was lurking through my google drive I found this again. I think its fun and I've been meaning to post something for a while now, but I can't get anything done sadly. I think I wrote this back in may or june? I am not too sure, but I hope you like it! I've been writing for NCT these days and I have 2 wips for them. I'm also working on something with Lee Know as a character. I hope I can get any of that finished soon! Hope you enjoy this, and I apologize for any grammar/spelling mistakes in advance 🤍

“Do any of you even know what a real moan sounds like?”

The look on their faces is amusing. Hadn't you been inside the recording booth, you're sure Changbin would have already headlocked you in a playful manner for running your mouth. 

But you are inside the recording booth, the three of them sitting in the studio with frustration written all over their faces.

“This sounds so fake,” you continue, taking off the headset. “What did you type in youtube to get this sample? Women moaning ASMR?”

“You’re not being helpful at all, you know that?” Changbin asks, trying to keep a serious demeanor but failing almost miserably every time he remembers the audio samples that are currently as background vocals in their upcoming song. They do sound awful, but he isn't as straight-forward as you are.

“Well, you asked for my opinion and I’m giving it to you,” the smug look on your face pisses off Chan just a little, but it is nothing new —the endless bickering between the both of you has happened ever since you two met. It's always light-hearted and friendly, but it surely does bring some tension into your friendship with him.

“Any ideas on how we can improve this?” 

“For once, get rid of all the fake moaning and get something that actually sounds like a woman being pleasured,” you instruct them, and smile when you see the three of them paying attention to your words. They have such abilities when it comes to music and producing, but they often look for constructive criticism outside their small group of three just to see things from different perspectives. “We don’t sound like that, it’s more like gasping for air and deep sighs accompanied with mostly quiet moans. This sounds like someone shouting exaggeratedly”.

“I’ve tried,” Chan murmurs, leaning back on his studio chair that he spins slightly. “But nothing sounds right. It’s a bit too much, maybe”.

“No, I do think the song calls for background sounds like these,” you encourage the trio. “It’s just- you need something more raw and real”.

There’s a quick moment of silence in which the four of you exchange glances, without exactly saying anything in particular.

Changbin and Chan look too deep into their own thoughts, probably trying to come up with another idea or alternative for that sound sample you all hate so much. Jisung, on the other hand, is staring right into you through the glass barrier that separates you from them, with an idea in mind he’s not quite sure how to deliver, but that he ends up doing it anyway. 

“What if we record you?” Jisung asks, drawing the scowling glances of the other two. “I mean, you can obviously fake them since you're a woman, right?” 

The suggestion has you cackling quietly, but even Chan and Changbin are considering it —you can tell by how they're looking at you as if they're expecting your verdict.

“Right,” you scoff, crossing both of your arms in front of your chest, “because what better way to spend my Saturday afternoon than faking moans inside a recording booth”. 

“It’s not going to take you long,” It’s Chan who speaks this time. The one you thought was going to be the least to be on board with such a crazy idea. “We all know this isn’t going to be the first time you fake them”. 

Your mouth opens in awe and you curse them mentally when they all laugh under their breaths. It was just one time, with a guy you didn’t even like, and you told them about it because you wanted to get the embarrassing memory out of your system. You were too bored, and desperate to go, that you ended up faking a series of moans that tricked him into thinking you were finished. 

“Very funny, Christopher,” you spit, resentful. “I thought you promised not to bring that shit up, ever again”.

“And I thought you promised you’d help us,” Chan attacks, “so what is it going to be?”

You look at them for a couple of seconds, pondering the situation. You can help them, you really have nothing better to do —yet a better idea comes to mind. 

“Why faking it if you can have the real deal?” you ask, nibbling at the skin against your fingernails. You’re trying to appear collected, but even suggesting such a crazy idea it’s making you feel uneasy. Unless you've gotten the signals wrong, you know they won't turn down such a proposal. “You’re all just sitting there, when one of you could help me”.

It’s Jisung who leans down over the console, clicking a red button to open the microphone.

“What exactly are you proposing?”

“Well, you were the one who pinned this on me, Han,” judging by their facial expressions, you know they understood exactly what you meant. They just want to make sure you are all on the same page. “Why don’t you come here and help me, so we can get this over with?”

“Why him?” Changbin immediately asks, offended even because you didn't consider him as your first option.

“Do you want to help me too?” you chuckle, “because I wouldn’t mind if you joined”.

“Han,” Chan’s cold voice interrupts the silence, catching the attention of the younger. He doesn’t say anything else, but rather signals for him to get inside the recording booth with a tilt of his head.

Jisung doesn’t say anything either, but his eyes flutter between you and Chan, almost begging for further instructions. He hesitates, perplexed. Not because he doesn’t want this, but because he really can’t begin to comprehend this is really happening.

“If you don’t want to, Changbin can do it,” the older speaks again.

“N-no, I mean- I can do it,” Jisung stands up from his studio chair abruptly and hastily, like he is in a rush. To be honest, he kind of is —he has been daydreaming of this moment ever since he met you, so he isn't going to waste it. Even if that means there are going to be other people watching or involved. “I just- what do I do?”

Chan and Changbin scoff quietly, teasing him. “You should ask her that question,” the former replies, crossing both of his arms and leaning back on his chair, “not us”.

“Yeah, okay”. 

Jisung walks inside the booth, swallowing thickly. Is he really about to do this? Is he dreaming? Or is this some sort of a sick joke?

He can’t help but overthink the situation, but every single one of his thoughts goes away when you welcome him into your embrace, holding him tightly against your body with his half-hard cock pressing against your lower abdomen and your tits against his toned chest. The other two are watching, and that only riles him up a lot more.

“Have you ever been this shy?” You tease him, wrapping your arms around his neck and brushing your lips against his. “You’re always so cocky, always running your mouth. But right now you aren’t. I wonder why”. 

“We don’t have that much time,” Chan warns you through the speakers, and you can feel the despair in his voice. Like Changbin, he’s anticipating something and you’re edging them, just like you are to Jisung. 

“Then I’m going to need more help,” you hum, latching your fingers against Jisung’s dark hair while pulling him closer to the crook of your neck. He loses no time and starts kissing and licking the sensitive flesh, hiding his face there. You, on the other hand, look through the glass barrier proudly to the other two who are out. “From the both of you”. 

“One isn’t enough for you? Do you need the three of us?” Chan asks, poking his cheek with his tongue. Changbin, on the other hand, observes the scene in awe, with both excitement and impatience. You don't reply, but shoot an accomplice glance at the older. “I always knew you were some of a slut, I just didn’t think this much”.

“Well, now you know,” you smile, biting your lower lip when Jisung sucks on a sensitive spot a bit too harshly, “so start recording”. 

The following moments are blurry, perhaps because of how nervous you are. You try to act in control, like you're the one calling the shots. But when you feel the three of them near you, with their hands all over you, it's hard to. 

“You’re not that bold now, are you?” Chan whispers in your ear, pressing your arse against his crotch. To your sides, there’s Jisung and Changbin, who grope and kiss your body as much as the other allows them to.

“I’m doing this for you,” you sigh, kicking your head back until it meets Chan’s shoulder. 

“Right,” he scoffs, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to kneel in front of Changbin and Jisung. “We just wanted your advice, but somehow we ended up like this”.

“I wonder why,” you tease him looking up to him while your hands tease the men in front of you.

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that she’s such a filthy slut,” Changbin murmurs, caressing your hair back. 

You can feel them through their sweatpants —you can feel how hard and ready they are for you, how desperate they are for your touch. You wish to take your sweet time with them, to suck the three of until they come in your mouth only to fuck you afterwards. 

You want more than just a quick fuck. But this will have to do for now.

“Suck them off,” Chan orders, pleased with the sight of you on your knees. 

Good thing you’re wearing such accessible clothes today —you’re making his job ten times easier.

“Get us nice and wet, baby,” Changbin proceeds, pulling your head against his crotch while he lowers his sweatpants just enough to release his throbbing cock. “We’re going to fuck you with it, so it’s up to you how easy you’re going to make this for yourself”.

“Don’t forget Jisung too,” the one behind you murmurs into your ear, practically kneeling right beside you while he pulls up your dress, revealing a shameful piece of clothing that he can barely name as underwear. The sight makes Chan’s cock throb even harder. “See how much he’s leaking? I know he has been dreaming of this for a while now”. 

“Fucker,” Jisung hisses through gritted teeth, feeling betrayed by his friend. Truth is, he isn’t telling any lies.

“Aw, you have?” He has been infatuated with you for quite some time now, and he is too awkward to be discreet about it. You have caught him checking you out shamelessly, and it has always been a turn on for you. 

“We all have,” Changbin says, nibbling at his lower lip when you wrap your hand around his cock. You squeeze both of them hard, staring up at them with a mischievous smile. “If only you knew what we talk about when you’re not around”. 

“Mh, I feel a little excluded now,” you pout. “Why don’t you guys just show me?”

You spent another ten minutes on your knees, being throat fucked by your dearest friends Changbin and Jisung. They take turns in burying their cocks inside your warm mouth, using your hair as leverage to let you know which one of them to suck next.

In the meantime, Chan just watches. 

You’re drooling all over yourself by now, your shirt ruined with a mixture of spit, precum and sweat. Your skin feels sticky, your mouth feels full and your pussy feels wet —you really wouldn’t be surprised if the floor was stained with your arousal.

“C’me here,” Chan tells you, grabbing you by your arm and helping you get in a different position. Your knees are bruised and red, but you don’t really care —tomorrow it will be a fun reminder of what happened today. “Now let’s really start recording”. 

You lay on the floor on all fours, with your ass up and your hands and knees supporting your body weight. It's an uncomfortable position, but you can only do much in a recording booth with no bed or couches.

The first one to take a spot right behind you is Changbin. Out of the three, it’s the one who seems more desperate to get his release and you kind of understand him —you’re desperate to feel something too, anything.

“I don’t have-” his voice is strangled, almost panicking. You can feel his hands gripping your hips, and the tip of his cock brushing against your slit. 

“I don’t care,” you encourage him, whimpering when Chan forces your head to face his throbbing dick that he has his fist wrapped around. “Just fuck me”.

It’s the heat of the moment that's getting the best out of you, but you can’t begin to regret it when you feel Changbin’s cock burying itself little by little inside your aching pussy. You try to hold back your moans, worrying that someone outside the hall might hear you, but you know it’s practically impossible.

Plus, that’s the reason why you’re there, anyways.

 So you start enjoying the moment, being as vocal as possible. If anything, the lewd sounds escaping through your lips are only pushing Changbin towards the edge, hips snapping at yours roughly enough to get a series of strained moans immersed in both pleasure and pain.

“You sound so g-good,” Changbin grunts, biting his lower lip to stop himself from being too loud. “Had I known your moans were this pretty, I've would've fucked you before”.

“Fuck, Changbin”. The way his name falls from your lips boosts his ego, and he’s glad everything is being recorded. He makes a mental note to go back to the recording later today, just in case he needs to unwind.

“Jisung will fuck you after him,” Chan demands your attention yet again, brushing the tip of his cock against your lips. He’s kneeling in front of you while Changbin is pounding your pussy from behind. Jisung, on the other hand, is stroking himself while he witnesses the scene; too shy to actually make a move himself, like the rest of them. “And then I will go next, how does that sound?”

“How many seconds- of the sample do you even need?” you chuckle, but the laugh is soon muffled by another whimper caused by Changbin’s ministrations. 

“Just a couple,” he replies, smearing his precum along your lips. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t want to leave this studio without being fucked by Jisung and me, right?”

You love his cockiness, and how he is always almost right. So you nod frantically, clenching around Changbin at the idea of being filled with the both of them in just a couple of seconds.

It doesn’t take him long to come inside you, especially not with how much your pussy is clenching around him. He does so shamelessly, grunting your name and gripping your hips too harshly you’re sure it will leave a mark tomorrow.

When he pulls out, commanded by Jisung who is too desperate to wait another second, you feel his sticky arousal leaking out of you. It’s a weird sensation, and it makes you feel dirty, but you can’t deny you like it. 

And you like it even more when you feel the tip of Jisung’s cock gathering all of his friend’s cum, fucking it back into you little by little, making sure it doesn’t go to waste.

“Who would’ve thought, hm?” You whimper, feeling a bit sore from Changbin’s aggressive care. “You’re not as innocent as I thought, Jisungie”.

He doesn’t say anything, but gives you a sharp thrust in response. One that makes your whole body jolt and tremble, one that earns you one of the prettiest moans the three of them have ever heard.

Chan is sure the recording is good to be used by now, but he doesn’t want to stop just yet. Or at least not until he also gets his fun.

“S-so tight,” Jisung murmurs, holding you more delicately than Changbin did. You love the contrast, though, and they’re both a good fuck. “And warm, all filled up with cum”.

“You’re going to fill me up too, Jisungie?” On any other occasion, the nickname would’ve earned you a killer gaze and a couple of curses from him. But right now, Jisung doesn’t mind. In fact, he likes it. There’s something enticing about you acting like the one in control.

“Can- I?” He asks with a shakily breath. His sloppy movements tell you he is close, and you take it as a compliment. A minute is definitely a record, but you’re really not mad about it. 

“That depends,” you tease him, crying out loud when his cock starts hitting sensitive spots inside your walls. “Are you going to come a lot for me?” 

“Ngh, y-yes,” Jisung whimpers. “Please, I’m- close, just let- say yes, please”.

“Go on,” you order him, arching your ass even more for him. “Give it to me”. 

Not even a couple of seconds later, you feel a now familiar sensation warming up your lower tummy, leaking through your pussy and onto your thighs. 

“Shit,” Changbin scoffs, checking the scene out. “You made a fucking mess”. 

You want to look at what he did, know how much he came for you, but Chan reinforces your initial position yet again by arching your ass even more.

“Be a good slut for me,” he tells you, landing a sharp spank on one of your ass cheeks. The sudden action makes you cry out in pain, but you don’t hate the sensation completely. “And I’ll be good to you”.

You’re not quite sure what he means, and you don’t get time to ask before he’s bottoming out inside of you. 

“Fuck!” you moan, suddenly losing the strength on your arms and your upper body threatening to plop down onto the floor. “C-chan!”

“C’me here,” he groans, sneaking a hand underneath your tummy looking for your clit. Again, the position isn’t the best but he somehow makes it work. And when you feel his digits rubbing your nerves just at the same pace of his thrusts, you start clenching around him even harder.

“Oh my g-god,” that stimulation is exactly what you need to come undone. Jisung and Changbin did a hell of a job getting you closer to your orgasm, but this is exactly what you needed to reach your climax.

And a well deserved one.

“Come,” Chan grunts through gritted teeth, biting his lower lip while furrowing his eyebrows. The sight of your ass bouncing against his cock is enough to get him to come, but he needs you to come first. “I’ll come with you”.

“Ngh- Chan,” and just like some magic words, you’re coming right after his order. He can feel you tightening around him, trying to milk his cock just as badly as you did with the other two. And he can’t resist that feeling, so he sticks up to his word and comes inside you almost at the same time. 

“Such- a good- little fucking slut,” his words are strained and painful. But his voice only contributes more to your own orgasm, just like the feeling of his cum filling you up. 

It takes the two of you a few moments to actually stop —even after coming, he kept on fucking you slowly until he made sure to fuck all of their cum inside of you. The last thing he wanted was to make a mess inside the recording booth, but it was inevitable. 

The floor is stained with all sorts of fluids, ones that are dripping out of your swollen pussy and others that no one knows how they got there. 

“Jisung,” Chan sighs, caressing your hips while fixing his clothes. “Stay with her, I’ll go get something to clean her up. Make sure she’s alright, and take her to the sofa in the studio, ‘kay?”

Jisung nods, attentive, and he helps you get up off the floor with ease. He wraps his arm around you, and fixes the top part of your dress to which you mutter a quick and soft thank you. 

“Changbin’s going to get you something to eat or drink, and I’ll take care of this. Alright?” 

You nod, still supporting your whole weight on Jisung. Your sore legs can only do much.

“He’s going to be with you in the meantime, but we will all be right back,” Chan’s soft gaze is the opposite to what he showed inside the recording booth, but you absolutely adore the contrast. 

“Yeah, ‘s okay,” you smile. 

“You did good, yeah?” Chan smiles, caressing your hair, “sounded so pretty for us”.

You offer them a weak, yet satisfied smile, “my pleasure”. 

[witchthewriter]

𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝

Like I've done with the Hogwarts Houses, Moral Alignment, Tarot Cards and Zodiac (Sun, Moon, Rising); I am now creating a post for MBTI personalities! 16 all together, I've included some tests so if you don't know already, you can now!

Test One (from 16 Personalities, sort of the 'official' test, well the official free test. I think the real one you have to pay.)

Test Two (free don't worry)

Test Three (from truity)

There are sixteen different options that are split into four groups:

Analysts

Intuitive (N) and Thinking (T) personality types, known for their rationality, impartiality, and intellectual excellence.

Diplomats

Intuitive (N) and Feeling (F) personality types, known for their empathy, diplomatic skills, and passionate idealism.

Sentinels

Observant (S) and Judging (J) personality types, known for their practicality and focus on order, security, and stability.

Explorers

Observant (S) and Prospecting (P) personality types, known for their spontaneity, ingenuity, and flexibility.

Analysist: INTJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴��𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒅/𝑨𝒓𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕

The acronym INTJ stands for introverted, intuitive, thinking, judging. ESFP is the opposite of the INTJ personality type. They're also known as: The Scientist, the Strategist.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

One of the rarest personality types and one of the most capable

Rational and quick-witted

Not known for being warm and fuzzy. They tend to prioritize rationality and success over politeness and pleasantries 

Architects question everything

Prefers to make their own discoveries

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Independent

Introverted

Confident

Analytical

Driven

Ambitious

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Petyr Baelish

James Moriarty

Gandalf

Wednesday Addams

Walter White

Doctor Strange

Tywin Lannister

Analysist: INTP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒏/𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒈𝒚

The INTP acronym stands for introverted, intuitive, thinking, perceiving. The opposite of an INTP is either an ESFJ or an ISFP. Also known as 'The Thinker.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

Can’t help but puzzle over the mysteries of the universe

Logicians aren’t afraid to stand out from the crowd

Often lose themselves in thought

They put a great deal of consideration into everything they do

Seem to live in a never ending daydream

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Analytical

Imaginative

Curious

Radical thinking

Indepedent

Problem solvers

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Sherlock Holmes

Alice from Alice in Wonderland

Lord Varys

Bruce Banner

Arthur Weasley

Analysist: ENTJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

It stands for extraverted, intuitive, thinking, judging. ISFP is the opposite personality type of ENTJ. Sometimes referred to as the 'CEO'.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

Ability to set long-range goals and implement them in an organized manner

They love a good challenge, whether it's big or small

Tend to avoid displays of any type of emotion, so they may be perceived as cold.

They firmly believe that given enough time and resources, they can achieve any goal.

At the negotiating table, be it in a corporate environment or buying a car, Commanders are dominant, relentless, and unforgiving.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Natural born leader

Charismatic

Direct

Organised

Self-assured

Stubborn

Dominant

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Thomas Shelby

Tony Soprano

Cersei Lannister

Beth Dutton

Milady de Winter

Raymond Reddington

Lyanna Mormont

Analysist: ENTP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓

It stands for extroverted, intuitive, thinking and perceiving. ISFJs and ENTPs are two Myers-Briggs personality types that share the same cognitive functions, but in reverse order. Also known as ' the Innovator,' 'the Visionary'.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

It would be a mistake, though, to think of Debaters as disagreeable or mean-spirited. Instead, people with this personality type are knowledgeable and curious, with a playful sense of humor

No belief is too sacred to be questioned, no idea is too fundamental to be scrutinized, and no rule is too important to be broken

As Debaters see it, most people are too ready to do as they’re told and blindly conform to social norms

They tend to be bold and creative, deconstructing and rebuilding ideas with great mental agility. They pursue their goals vigorously despite any resistance they might encounter.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Quick-witted

Audacious

Rebellious

Outspoken

Puts self first

Charming

Unpredictable

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Captain Jack Sparrow

Tyrion Lannister

Willy Wonka

The Joker

Irene Adler

Fleabag

Alfie Solomons

Diplomat: INFJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆/𝑴𝒚𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄

Is someone with the introverted, intuitive, feeling, and judging personality traits. The opposite to INFJ is the INFP, who will appear less organized and less controlled than the INFJ to others.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They tend to approach life with deep thoughtfulness and imagination.

Their inner vision, personal values, and a quiet, principled version of humanism guide them in all things.

People with this personality type care about integrity, and they’re rarely satisfied until they’ve done what they know to be right.

Advocates tend to carry around a sense – whether conscious or not – of being different from most people.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Insightful

Idealistic

Principled

Wise

Moral

Compassionate

Understanding

Passionate

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Remus Lupin

Elsa

Obi-Wan Kenobi

Jane Eyre

Elizabeth Bennet

Loki

Galadriel

Diplomat: INFP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑴𝒆𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒐𝒓/𝑫𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒓

Is someone who possesses the introverted, intuitive, feeling, and prospecting personality traits. ESTJ is the opposite personality type of INFP. Also known as 'the Idealist,' 'the Healer.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

These rare personality types tend to be quiet, open-minded, and imaginative, and they apply a caring and creative approach to everything they do.

Although they may seem quiet or unassuming, INFPs have vibrant, passionate inner lives.

Happily lose themselves in daydreams

Known for their sensitivity; they can have profound emotional responses to music, art, nature, and the people around them.

Long for deep, soulful relationships

Mediators have a talent for self-expression. They may reveal their innermost thoughts and secrets through metaphors and fictional characters.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Introspective

Intuitive

Empathetic

Flexible

Idealistic

Curious

Creative

Strong Personal Values

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Lucy Pevensie

Frodo Baggins

Tina Belcher

Newt Scammander

Wanda Maximoff

Luna Lovegood

Edward Scissorhands

Diplomat: ENFJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒕/𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒐𝒓

ENFJ is extraverted, intuitive, feeling, and judging personality traits. ISTP is the opposite of the ENFJ personality type. Also known as, 'the Giver,' 'the Teacher.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They're born leaders, with passion and charisma which makes them great politicians, coaches, and teachers.

These warm, forthright types love helping others, and they tend to have strong ideas and values.

They back their perspective with the creative energy to achieve their goals.

Feel called to serve a greater purpose in life

When something strikes them as unjust or wrong, they speak up

These personality types have the ability to pick up on people’s underlying motivations and beliefs

ENFJ’s secret weapon is their purity of intent

They're motivated by a sincere wish to do the right thing

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Very extraverted

Great people skills

Warm

Affectionate

Supportive

Great at encouraging others

Thoughtful

Gentle

Kind

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Margaery Tyrell

Queenie Goldstein

Professor X

Mufasa

Diana Prince / Wonder Woman

Peeta Mellark

Elle Woods

Moana

Diplomat: ENFP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒂𝒎𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒓

ENFP stands for extraverted, intuitive, feeling, and prospecting personality traits. ISTJ is the opposite personality type of ENFP. ENFPs are also called the Campaigners or the Encouragers mainly because of their desire to inspire and encourage other people. Also known as, 'the Champion,' 'the Visionary.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

These people tend to embrace big ideas and actions that reflect their sense of hope and goodwill toward others.

Their vibrant energy can flow in many directions.

Are true free spirits – outgoing, openhearted, and open-minded.

They can’t help but ponder the deeper meaning and significance of life – even when they should be paying attention to something else.

These people radiate a positive energy that draws in other people

Few things matter more to these personality types than having genuine, heartfelt conversations with the people they cherish

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Free-spirited

Optimistic

Idealistic

Open-minded

Curious

Authentic

Inspiring

Intuitive

Imaginative

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Ariel

Anne of Green Gables

John Keating

Wizard Howl

Jo March

Michael Scott

Peter Parker/Spiderman

Phil Dunphy

Sentinel: ISTJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒈𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒏/𝑫𝒆𝒕𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆

ISTJ stands for introverted, observant, thinking, and judging personality traits. ENFP is the opposite personality type of ISTJ. Also known as 'Duty-Fulfillers'.

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

These people tend to be reserved yet willful, with a rational outlook on life.

They compose their actions carefully and carry them out with methodical purpose.

ISTJs pride themselves on their integrity

Aren’t known for expressing their emotions readily

They strive to meet their obligations no matter what

ISTJs might unfairly misjudge people who can’t match their rigorous self-control – suspecting that someone is being lazy or dishonest when that person might actually be coping with other challenges.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Decisive

Focused

Efficient

Reserved yet willful

Loyal

Blunt

Factual

Logical

Meticulous

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Hermione Granger

Thorin Oakinshield

Nedd Stark

Rick Grimes

Brienne of Tarth

Jim Hopper

Ron Swanson

Sentinel: ISFJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒇𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

ISFJ stands for introverted, observant, feeling, and judging personality traits. The ENTP personality type is the opposite ISFJs. Also known as 'the Protector,' 'the Nurturer.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

These people tend to be warm and unassuming in their own steady way.

They’re efficient and responsible, giving careful attention to practical details in their daily lives.

In their unassuming, understated way, Defenders help make the world go round.

They invest a great deal of energy into maintaining strong connections with their loved ones

Known for dropping everything and lending a hand whenever a friend or family member is going through a hard time.

Defenders’ sense of loyalty doesn’t stop with their nearest and dearest – it often extends to their communities, their employers, and even family traditions.

For ISFJs, “good enough” is rarely good enough. People with this personality type can be meticulous to the point of perfectionism.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Warm-hearted

Responsible

Sensitive

Reliable

Caring

Will do anything for those they care about

Generous

Defenders tend to underplay their accomplishments but they eventually become resentful toward the people who just don’t seem to appreciate them.

Excellent analytical abilities and an eye for detail

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Steve Rogers/ Captain America

Jennifer Honey (Miss Honey from Matilda)

Beth March

Charlie Buckets

Samwise Gamgee

Dr Watson

Will Turner

Sentinel: ESTJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒙𝒆𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆/𝑪𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏

ESTJ stands for extraverted, observant, thinking, and judging personality traits. INFP is the opposite personality type of ESTJ. Also known as 'the Supervisor,' 'the Composer.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They possess great fortitude, emphatically following their own sensible judgment.

They often serve as a stabilizing force among others, able to offer solid direction amid adversity.

ESTJs feel most comfortable when there are established procedures in place

Taking pride in bringing people together

The main challenge for Executives is to recognize that not everyone follows the same path

Executives are classic images of the model citizen: they help their neighbors, uphold the law, and try to make sure that everyone participates in the communities and organizations they hold so dear.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Productive

Task-Orientated

Pragmatic

Enjoy order and structure in life

Focuses on facts and details rather than ideas and concepts

Confident

Natural leaders and have a strong work ethic

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Mary Poppins

Peter Pevensie

Borormir

Monica Gellar

Hector Barboss

Claire Dunphy

Miranda Bailey

Mycroft Holmes

Sentinel: ESFJ

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒖𝒍

ESFJ stands for extraverted, observant, feeling, and judging personality traits. ISTP is the opposite personality type to ESFJs because they often struggle to be practical. Also known as, 'the Caregiver,' 'the Host.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They are attentive and people-focused, and they enjoy taking part in their social community.

Their achievements are guided by decisive values, and they willingly offer guidance to others.

Energized by time spent with others

Consuls do believe in the power of hospitality and good manners, and they tend to feel a sense of duty to those around them

Consuls have a talent for making the people in their lives feel supported, cared for, and secure.

They believe that there is a clear right thing to do in nearly every situation

ESFJs have a clear moral compass

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Attentive

People-focused

Generous

Reliable

Tender-hearted

Organised

Focused

Strong sense of duty

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Anna Smith

Molly Weasley

Bilbo Baggins

Effie Trinket

Sansa Stark

Cher Horowitz

Nala

Leslie Knope

Explorer: ISTP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑽𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒐𝒔𝒐

ISTP stands for introverted, observant, thinking, and prospecting personality traits. ENFJ is the opposite of the ISTP personality type. Also known as, 'the Vigilante,' 'the Crafter,' 'the Analyser,' 'the Artisan.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They tend to have an individualistic mindset, pursuing goals without needing much external connection.

They engage in life with inquisitiveness and personal skill, varying their approach as needed.

Virtuosos love to explore with their hands and their eyes, touching and examining the world around them with cool rationalism and spirited curiosity.

Energized by time spent alone

Virtuosos are likely to go too far, accepting likewise retaliation, good or bad, as fair play.

Act too soon

They’ll be the first to tell an insensitive joke, get overly involved in someone else’s project, roughhouse and play around, or suddenly change their plans because something more interesting came up.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Individualistic mindset

Logical

Loves action and new experiences

Logical but adaptable

Enigmatic

A lot of impulsive energy

Have a “do unto others” attitude

Self-sufficient

Tough

Independent

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Arya Stark

Jason Bourne

Jessica Jones

Jace Herondale

Indiana Jones

Rosa Diaz

Rue Bennett

John Wick

Wolverine

Explorer: ISFP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆𝒓

ISFP means introverted, observant, feeling, and prospecting personality traits. ISFP is the opposite of ENTJ: the commander, who is upfront outgoing and demanding. ISFP is quiet and unassuming. Also known as, 'the Artist, 'the Composer.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They tend to have open minds, approaching life, new experiences, and people with grounded warmth.

Their ability to stay in the moment helps them uncover exciting potentials.

Adventurers tend to see themselves as “just doing their own thing,” so they may not even realize how remarkable they really are.

Quiet and reserved, people with this personality type are keen observers; they enjoy the moment and what’s happening around them.

Embrace a flexible, adaptable approach to life.

Remarkably tolerant and open-minded.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Gentle

Compassionate

Tend to live in the here and now

Love to be active

And love interacting with others

Carefree

Playful

Spontaneous

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Claire Fraser

Eowyn

Bella Swan

Jon Snow

Cinna

Zuko

Cedric Diggory

Explorer: ESFP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒓

ESFP stands for extraverted, observant, feeling, and prospecting personality traits. INTJ is the opposite personality type of ESFP. People with this personality type tend to be outgoing, friendly, and impulsive, acquiring the most enjoyment from being in the presence of others. Also known as, 'the Performer.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

These people love vibrant experiences, engaging in life eagerly and taking pleasure in discovering the unknown.

They can be very social, often encouraging others into shared activities.

These people love vibrant experiences

ESFPs get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too.

No other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as Entertainers when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style.

Many famous people with the Entertainer personality type are indeed actors

There’s no greater joy for them than just having fun with a good group of friends.

Have the strongest aesthetic sense of any personality type; an eye for fashion.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Spontaneous

Humorous

Comedic-relief

Thoughtful

Well-liked

Resourceful

Outgoing

Friendly

Love the spotlight

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Steve Harrington

Jesper Fahey

Arthur Shelby

Rose Tyler

Jesse Pinkman

Andy Bernard

Explorer: ESTP

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑬𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒖𝒓/𝑫𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒍

ESTP stands for extraverted, observant, thinking, and prospecting personality traits. INFJ is the opposite personality type of ESTP. Also known as, 'the Doer,' 'the Action-Seeker,' 'the Persuader.'

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲:

They tend to be energetic and action-oriented, deftly navigating whatever is in front of them.

They love uncovering life’s opportunities, whether socializing with others or in more personal pursuits.

They love using common sense to find smarter ways of doing things.

While they are dedicated to whatever they're working on, they don't like to be micromanaged or told what to do by others.

They thrive by being the center of attention.

Always have an impact on their immediate surroundings

If an audience member is asked to come on stage, Entrepreneurs volunteer

They have a special ability to react quickly in an emergency or crisis situation.

𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐬:

Adventurous

Thrill-seeking

Energetic

Outgoing

Charismatic

Persuasive

Live in a world of action

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐁𝐓𝐈:

Rebecca Sharp

Jaime Lannister

Aquaman

Gimli

Sirius Black

Han Solo

Jennifer Check

𝑻𝒊𝒑𝒔 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌:

Extraversion (E) – Introversion (I)

Extraverts (also often spelled extroverts) are "outward-turning" and tend to be action-oriented, enjoy more frequent social interaction, and feel energized after spending time with other people. Introverts are "inward-turning" and tend to be thought-oriented, enjoy deep and meaningful social interactions, and feel recharged after spending time alone.

Sensing (S) – Intuition (N)

People who prefer sensing tend to pay a great deal of attention to reality, particularly to what they can learn from their own senses. They tend to focus on facts and details and enjoy getting hands-on experience. Those who prefer intuition pay more attention to things like patterns and impressions. They enjoy thinking about possibilities, imagining the future, and abstract theories.

Thinking (T) – Feeling (F)

This scale focuses on how people make decisions based on the information that they gathered from their sensing or intuition functions. People who prefer thinking place a greater emphasis on facts and objective data.

Judging (J) – Perceiving (P)

The final scale involves how people tend to deal with the outside world. Those who lean toward judging prefer structure and firm decisions. People who lean toward perceiving are more open, flexible, and adaptable. These two tendencies interact with the other scales.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part Two

Part One, Part Three

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Your parents work late on Friday nights, which you spend alone. Except you haven't been alone in a long time, not that you know of at least. Rafe has watched for years, he's very good at it. His idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when you catch him in your bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living. After you find the surprise he had left for you, you choose to believe that his threats were empty and try to turn him in. But, your plans are interrupted and you take an unexpected visit to Tannyhill.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the plot. Strong & descriptive language, suggestive themes, death threat(?), manipulation, kidnapping (?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 3.5k

Author Note: Part Two is here!! I know this chapter is shorter than the previous, but I figured it's better to get what I had out. Also...I'm not sure if I like where this is going, so please share your thoughts about this part and ideas for future parts. Thank you all for the support on the first part of this story. Especially with this being my first work I've published on tumblr, I am very pleasantly surprised with how everyone has reacted to it. So, please enjoy and feel free to leave feedback! I love you all, thank you so much!!

CREDITS: The foundation of this fic was heavily inspired by/ based off of one of @faiszt 's bots on character ai. So, if you like this and you like character ai, I greatly suggest that you check out the bot!

The blinding morning light shines into your room through your curtains. You sit up and rub your eyes. You glance at the digital clock on your nightstand which currently reads: 10:34 am. Those sleeping pills really worked, you think. Your parents are already at the restaurant, probably just getting over with the morning rush. 

Your eyes begin to focus, your brows furrow as your eyes land on one of the posts of your footboard. You lean forward to grab the pair of panties you had just worn yesterday which are hanging from your bedpost. You’re pretty sure you had put these in your hamper last night and wait, why are they sticky…? You wonder, you examine them and come to the realization of what it is. Immediately you toss them away, that was not from you. It was your stalker, it had to be. Of course, the first night you spend alone since four weeks ago and he already breaks in. And he does this? You think about his words, “tell anyone and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you”, shivers roll down your spine. 

You hadn’t even had time to realize how horny you had been when you had woken up; and now that you have you feel so wrong. But your dream…oh god your dream. You can still remember it vividly, even more so the longer you think about it; you can see the face of the man who fucked you stupid in your dream. You know who it was, who your subconscious mind let you fuck while you slept. It was your stalker. 

Without another thought, you’re in the shower scrubbing the shame and disgust from your skin—or at least attempting to. When you feel somewhat satisfied, which also happens to be when the water begins to run cold, you finally get out. Wrapping a plush towel around your freshly clean body, you lean over the bathroom sink and wipe the condensation from the mirror leaving just enough space to see yourself. Before the glass fogs back up you’re able to see a small part of what appears to be a bruise poking out from underneath the towel wrapped around your chest. You lean in closer using one hand to re-wipe the mirror and using the other to pull your towel down past your boobs. Looking back at the bruised area on your chest, you can see that the closer you look at it, the more it looks like a hickey. You just about stumble backwards at the realization. 

You’ve had enough. After you quickly toss on some clothes, you grab your keys off your dresser with a shaky hand. You rush out towards your car and get inside, pulling out of your driveway carelessly and speeding off. When you arrive at your destination, you take a few moments to rethink this plan. You have to do this. You can’t keep living with some creep sneaking in your bedroom and touching you as you sleep. You twist the keys in the ignition and pull them out, you confidently strut towards the entrance of the building. When you feel the vibration of your phone in your pocket you pause, sighing as you reach back to take it out. When you read the random number, with the same Outer Banks area code as you, your brows furrow. Typically you wouldn’t answer a call from an unknown number, but something in you is telling you to answer. As you press the green button and bring your phone to your ear, you glance up at the building you were about to enter which reads, ‘Kildare County Sheriff’s Office’. 

“Hello?” You ask warily.

After a few long seconds, the person on the other side of the line answers you. “Stop.” The man’s voice sends familiar chills down your spine. 

“Excuse me?” You respond, your voice audibly shaky. “Who…who is this?”

“C’mon pup, you already forgot what I sound like? It’s already been that long?” Your eyes widen at the realization of who this voice belongs to. You’ve heard it one other time, well one time that you remember.

As your head darts around the parking lot looking for your stalker, your voice comes out in a tone that easily betrays you, revealing your fear, “No…no…what the hell do you want?”

Rafe smirks from his truck as he watches you from afar. “I want you to turn around and get back in your car, m’kay princess? And I highly suggest you do what I want.” 

“Or what? What’s stopping me from walking in? Or from yelling for help?” You take a step closer to the building’s entrance.

“Stubborn, stubborn girl…” the man chuckles, “If you don’t get back into your fucking car right now, you’re gonna really fuckin’ wish you had just listened to me. I’m gonna get what I want no matter what, baby. You’re mine.” And with that, Rafe hangs up the phone, still watching you from a distance. 

As much as you want to just run into the building and beg for help, you know that unfortunately since you’re a pogue, the cops aren’t going to believe a single word that comes from your mouth. In their minds, all pogues are liars and thieves. And since you don’t have the slightest clue on who the man you saw in your bedroom is, you figure there’s not much they’d be able to do even if they did believe you. So you reluctantly turn back to your car and get inside. The moment your door shuts you inside, your phone buzzes yet again with another call. It’s coming from the same number, but this time you don’t answer. This was your second mistake. 

Rafe’s already pissed off. You went against his rules, you didn’t listen to him, none of this will work if you don’t listen. He thought he had been threatening enough that you’d behave, but clearly you need another scare. You need to be taught that disobeying him does nothing but hurt you more. When you don’t answer the phone when you definitely know it’s him calling, this is just the cherry on top; the icing on the cake. Rafe is fuming. 

You drive out of the parking lot, breath heavy as you stay on high alert–searching for him. A truck suddenly pulls behind you, tailing right on your ass. You can’t see through the truck's front windshield due to the dark tint. You being paranoid, step on the gas and speed up a bit, well exceeding the speed limit. A few quick seconds pass by and you jump at the sound of sirens. It doesn’t take long for you to check your rearview mirror and realize that the sirens are coming from the truck behind you, which is flashing its red and blue lights. You let out a breath of relief. You’re being pulled over yet you’re relieved because it means you aren’t being trailed by your stalker. The feeling is short lived as you flick your signal on and pull off to the side of the road. You roll your window down and shut off the engine.

The officer approaches you and goes through the typical routine and you try to calm your nerves. All sound is drowned out as you get lost in your thoughts. 

“Ma’am?”, the officer repeats. “Do you know why I’ve pulled you over today?”

The sharp and unintentionally threatening voice of the deputy snaps you out of wherever the hell it was that your mind had taken you to. “Yes, sorry sir, I…I was going over the speed limit.” You submit, wanting to get this over with. You can’t help but worry what your stalker would think if he saw this, he’d probably think you’re turning him in. But, you’re not. Really this whole thing was a misunderstanding, but you can’t explain that to the cop. 

“And why is that?” He questions you ever further, his gaze staring at you intensely. You get nervous and want to look away, but you worry that might make you look guilty of something. You’ve been pulled over before, it’s not usually a big deal for you. However you’re just so goddamn nervous and need this moment to be over. You feel like you’ve done something wrong; like you’re hiding something. But you aren’t.

“I–I thought…I just got distracted sir, wasn't thinking about speed. I apologize for the inconvenience.” You catch yourself, technically you aren’t lying; you just aren’t explaining why you were distracted. The threatening words of your stalker still echo around your head. The deputy gives a small lecture as he writes up a ticket for you. Once he gets back into his truck and drives off, you rest your head back against the seat and let out the breath you’ve been holding. When you start your car back up and finally open your eyes, you look straight out across the road. You can see a tall man leaning against a truck parked across the road, staring right at you. The familiar grin on his face has you sick to your stomach. 

After making direct eye contact with him, you pull off the side of the road and do an illegal U-turn so that you’re heading in the opposite direction, leaving the man behind. You know that he’s following you, so you drive around aimlessly until you get another call from the same unknown number. You want to decline, but you’re too afraid to face the consequences that might follow. 

“What do you want?” You ask, voice full of faux confidence. The only thing you hear on the other side of the line is a heavy breath that causes your skin to become full of goosebumps. 

After you’ve had a few moments to panic, he finally speaks, “Keep driving”. His words are not said lightly. This is undoubtedly a command, not an option. 

“Keep driving to where?” You stammer with nervousness. 

“Tannyhill.” He replies strictly. 

“Tannyhill?” You question before being able to stop yourself. You can’t help the attitude that slips into your voice. When a few more moments of silence pass, you get more and more anxious for his response. “Hello…?” You ask quietly, wondering if you lost connection. Still nothing. “Hello?” You ask again with more volume. After another minute or two, you hear the phone beep; the call disconnects. 

Why the hell does he want you to go to Tannyhill? It doesn’t make any sense. But you don’t exactly have a choice. He’s following you either way and it’s not like he doesn’t know where you live…and just about everything about your life. So, it’s probably best to just play along and obey his commands. 

When you get close to the general destination, your phone rings with yet another call. You answer, already knowing who it's from. This time you don’t speak first, you wait to hear what he has to say. It takes a few moments, almost like he’s trying to wait long enough that you’ll talk. The silence starts to get unbearably awkward, but your mind is set on waiting for him to speak and Rafe doesn’t have the time to wait; having to give you directions and all. When he finally talks he doesn’t greet you. His voice breaking the silence startles you as he instructs you with the directions to get wherever it was he was forcing you to go. 

“Wait…turn left h-here?” You ask, confused at his directions. You had missed the beginning of what he said since you had to collect yourself after being frightened. 

He sighs in impatience, “No dammit, the next one. Were you not listening?” 

“I…no I-I was listening–” you stumble over your words as you turn onto the street he wanted you to. 

“Bullshit. You need to learn how to fucking listen to me, don’t you?” When you don’t respond, trying to focus on remembering the directions he gave you, it only serves to piss him off even further. “Huh?! Don’t you?!” He shouts into the phone as he follows behind you.

You whine in fear, “No..I can listen. I promise I can listen to you.” You practically beg. “J-just tell me where to go?”

Rafe directs you to his house, which you of course recognize as the Cameron’s mansion. You’ve heard about the Cameron’s, but you wouldn’t be able to point them out in a crowd or anything. Besides from the father, Ward Cameron, whom you’ve seen on the news several times. Is he a Cameron? As you park in the large driveway, you rack your brain trying to recall the name of the Cameron son. 

His truck parks behind you, blocking your car in. He quickly kills the engine and exits his vehicle. You don’t notice him walking up to you until he’s yanking your car door open and pulling you out by the arm.

“R-rafe?” You mumble insecurely. He pauses to look at you, chuckling at your words. He mutters a quick ‘smart girl’ before retightening his grip on your arm and continuing to pull you into the large mansion. You start to cry, getting overwhelmed as you imagine the many possible scenarios that may occur. “P-please,” you manage to choke out. “What do you want?”

Unlike the last time you cried to him, this time he doesn’t stop. He drags you up one level of the large, spiral staircase; pulling you into his bedroom. As soon as you see the bed, you’re already feeling it beneath your back when he shoves you down just a few seconds later. As if you hadn’t already embarrassed yourself enough, you can’t help the tears that begin to stream down your flushed cheeks at a flooding rate. 

“Wait…no, please, please!” The way you keep shouting and choking back sobs causes you to gag from how worked up you’ve gotten yourself. All the Cameron son does in response is lean back to get a full view of you as a smug grin spreads across his face. “Please, I—oh god, I’m gonna be sick…” You mumble, which is quickly followed by another gag that interrupts your constant sobs. 

Rafe snakes his hand up from your arm to your hair, wrapping his first tightly around a large section of it. He tugs on your hair to force your head to look up at him, causing a small whine to escape your lips. “Shhh…baby, shhh…” He mumbles, his ‘worried’ tone working to oppose his previous amused expression. “Calm down, alright? Calm down. Ain’t gonna do nothin’ you don’t want, m’kay pretty girl?” The way he says that last part…you’ve never heard his voice sound like that before. You didn’t even think he was capable of talking in that tone. He sounds like he might actually truly care about you. You’re relieved; maybe even a bit…comforted by the fact that he might be telling the truth about not doing anything you don’t want. Well, besides having you basically held captive in his home. 

“What…what are you gonna do?” You manage to choke out between sobs, trying to catch your breath so you can calm down.

“I just wanna talk to you baby. Alright?” Rafe mumbles your name into your ear, allowing you to feel his hot breath against the side of your face. Immediately you’re taken back to the first time you had met him, in your bedroom a few weeks back. You try to push that aside and bring yourself back to the present; the memory only brings back the feelings of complete and utter fear you experienced at that time. Not that the present was any better, hell, it was worse. 

Hesitantly, you nod. He waits a few minutes to speak; waiting for you to catch your breath. Once you’re calmer, at least on the outside, he finally starts to talk. “I wanted to talk about my proposition…” He looks down at you, bringing his hand up to cautiously run through your hair. “Last time I got cut short…remember that?”

You nod. “I…I tried to warn you my parents would come home. I-I swear I didn’t tell them anything.” You say frantically, trying to prove your innocence.

“Hey, shh…it’s okay babe. I know. I know.” Rafe speaks slowly, his eyes never leaving your lips. He pauses to momentarily dart his tongue out to wet his parted lips. “I know. You haven’t told…you’ve been a good girl and listened to me, hm? Haven’t you baby? Haven't you been a good girl?” 

You nod frantically. “I…I’d never turn you in…” The false seductiveness in your voice turns him off, if that’s even possible. 

He pulls back from you and sighs, “Shut up.” He runs a rough hand over his buzzed head and begins to quickly pace across his bedroom. 

“B-but you wanted to talk…” You remind him. The way his attitude was constantly shifting in great amounts had you furrowing your brows as you tried to figure him out. 

“Yeah, I do. But not to a goddamn filthy, lying whore.” He retorts, a large grin appearing on his face while he watches your beautiful features move on your face, displaying your thoughts  as you take in his words. “Just be yourself alright? I can always tell when you’re not you.” He says almost sincerely. “I want…I need you to want this. Don’t try to pull that fake crap on me ever again, yeah?” 

Immediately you nod. “I…yes-”, you stammer, instantly regretting even trying to talk in the first place. Rafe chuckles, making your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He stops pacing and lets out a long sigh, turning to face you again. His steps pause when he’s standing just before you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I really need this to work, okay…? This is good, this can be good for the both of us. I can help you; we can help each other, baby.” A silent tear rolls down your cheek from the fear of what’s to come. “I know…I know I messed up, alright? I know. But, you don’t have to be scared, baby. It’s all gonna be okay.” He brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Please…I just wanna go home, let me go home!” Your cries are ugly, and very, very real. The fear in your voice only worries him. Worries him that you may never get past this. But you have to. You don’t have another option. And he really, really doesn’t want to have to hurt you. That was never his intention. 

“But you are home, baby. You are home.” He mutters as his fingers brush over your cheeks, smearing your tears. Your breath hitches at his words and your eyes slowly move up to meet his. This cannot be happening. Why is this happening? You think.

“No…please I…just let me go home. I won’t tell. I promise I won’t. I’ll…I’ll never tell anyone about any of this okay, I’ll never say anything about you.”

“I can’t do that, baby…you know I can’t do that.”

“Why not? I swear, I’ll never ever breathe a word of this to anyone.” You say enticingly.

Rafe sits down besides you, causing the mattress to dip and make you lean towards him. He puts an arm around you and his hand lands on the back of your head, pulling it into his chest.

He leans down to speak into your ear while his hand pets over your hair as you cry into his chest. “Because I need you baby, I need you. And I need you to let me take care of you, yeah? I know…I know you’re scared, but you don’t have to be. Just trust me okay…we’re gonna be so good together baby.” He tugs at your hair, gently guiding your face to look up at him. “Just listen to me and nothing will happen, I don’t wanna have to…do anything. I just need to know that you’ll listen to what I say.” Immediately you nod, going along with what he says. He tugs on your hair harder, eliciting a gasp to fall from your lips. “Ah ah, I know you can talk. You’re a big girl, now fucking act like it.” He says forcefully.

“I-I’m gonna listen, I’ll listen to you, just please, please don’t hurt me.”

He smiles softly as his eyes dart across your face, unable to pick a feature to focus on, everything about you is just too damn perfect. “Don’t worry I won’t hurt you, not as long as you listen.” His grip loosens on your hair again. “But you’ll be begging for it soon enough.” Rafe’s whispers are enough to make your sobs start again; in which he pulls your head back into his chest. Your tears soak into his shirt as you have no choice but to cry into him.

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable. This part took quite a bit for me to finish, since life has been a bit busy and I haven't had much time to plan or write. I apologize for the short chapter, I'll try my best to make up for it with the next part! I never really feel done with anything and as I said before I'm not sure if I'm a fan of this part or not. So, if you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them in future parts. And there's not much I won't write!

[starlightkyeom]

a new home for the holidays | ljh

(where you can't go home for the holidays and end up having a much better christmas than you expect.)

pairing: jihoon (woozi) x afab!reader genre: acquaintances to lovers, christmas!au | fluff & smut rating: explicit word count: 10.5k warnings: lots of mentions of christmas (including decorating, family, cooking, etc.), if the holidays are too much please skip this, mentions of family issues, reader can't go home for the holidays (and they actually like christmas), no gendered pronouns used for reader, mentions of past death (family member woozi mentions), woozi owns the house where reader rents a room but there are no power dynamics, explicit and implied smut, woozi is kinda grumpy, reader is super bummed about christmas, woozi ends up being a secret softie smut warnings: lots of kissing, thigh riding, nipple play, marking if you squint, slight begging, two ass slaps, oral (reader rec.), fingering (reader receiving), overstimulation, squirting, briefest handjob, unprotected sex (don't do this), implied aftercare, implied morning after sex

author's note: this is for @k-vanity's 25 tips for surviving the holidays and the final prompt is christmas. i don't really have anything to say for myself. this is not what i'm supposed to be writing and it kinda just happened. merry christmas (if you celebrate) and happy holidays. i've already had christmas dinner, so if you see any mistakes, blame it on the drinks.

The holidays are your favorite time of year. Always have been. Nothing has really changed over the years. You moved away for work and fell in love with a new city. Now you just get to have twice the holiday cheer. You decorate your space in the house you live in with friends (and the grumpy house owner who’s resisted most of your attempts to be friends). Then, you go back to visit family when it gets closer to Christmas. It’s been a really great system. You’re just as excited this year as every other year.

Until your plans change. It’s only the day before you’re supposed to fly back home when your dad calls to let you know that he and your mom are sick. They know that you have a lot of post-Christmas plans (New Years, school work, and even a trip) and they don’t want to risk getting you sick as well. They insist that you can still come back, if you want, but warn you that they’ll have to keep their distance. You spend a lot of time thinking about it (read: talk it over exhaustively with your closest friends) before deciding that you’re just going to stay put for the holidays. You can plan another time to catch up with your family and have a time-shifted Christmas. After all, you think of the holidays as more of a feeling than a specific date on the calendar. You can find something to keep you busy for the 25th.

A couple of your friends invite you to come and spend Christmas Eve or Christmas Day with them, but you decline. You appreciate the sentiment, and really consider it in at least one case, but it just doesn’t feel right. Your family has so many traditions that it feels weird to consider dropping in on someone else’s. Besides, you won’t be alone in the house. (Even if Jihoon, who owns the house and rents out rooms, isn't always the friendliest. And doesn’t seem to enjoy Christmas at all.)

It’s four days before Christmas. You’re sitting in the living room aimlessly scrolling through your phone while you wait for Jun and Minghao to come downstairs. The three of you were all supposed to be heading to the airport together today, but now you’re just going to be driving them so they don’t have to pay for a ride. A sound makes you look up before you realize it’s not nearly enough noise for Jun, who can’t seem to go anywhere without being too loud. Instead, Jihoon only nods at you before he settles into an armchair on the other side of the room with a book. After a few minutes, you hear the telltale giggles of one of your best friends as he rushes down the stairs. Jun is through the door first, followed by an exasperated Minghao. Nevertheless, you see the signs he’s trying to fight his smile. You stand to meet them at the doorway.

“Bestie,” Jun signsongs when he reaches you. Throws his arms around you for good measure. “Are you sure you don’t want to come?” 

“Jun, for the last time, we were supposed to leave for the airport 45 minutes ago,” Minghao sighs. “There wouldn’t be time to pack.”

“Details, we’ve got plenty of time,” Jun waves off. 

“And last minute plane tickets are insane,” Minghao adds. 

“Less insane with a travel credit,” Jun supplies, undeterred. 

“Jun, please, we really need to leave,” Minghao begs.

“Are you not going home?” Jihoon asks. He’s so quiet when he moves that you didn’t even hear him stand up to join your group.

“Oh, no, I guess I forgot to let you know,” you start. You didn’t. Jihoon scares you a little. He’s nice enough and he’s great as a landlord, if you can even call him that, but you’re not really friends. 

“You don’t have to let me know,” he huffs out.

“I decided not to go home this year. Both my parents are sick and I don’t want to catch it too, so we’re timeshifting the holidays,” you say. 

“So it’s just you two in the house for Christmas,” Jun says brightly as he throws an arm around Jihoon. “Take good care of my bestie, okay?” 

“It’s fine, Jihoon, I’m not expecting you to do anything with me,” you say before he can even open his mouth. 

“But…” Jun starts and you turn him around before he can finish.

“Come on, before we give Hao an aneurysm. Do you need help getting your stuff outside?” you ask. 

“Bless you,” Minghao mutters as you’re wrangling your best friend out of the house.

Once you’re back at the house, all you want to do is lay in your bed. It was a lot of work to pretend everything was fine while taking Jun and Minghao to the airport. Traffic was bad getting back, so you didn’t really have it in you to break down. Now that you’re home and in your room, the tears don’t come. It’s not who you are. It sucks that you’re not going home for the holidays, but it’s still the holidays and you can still make the most of it. Maybe. Somehow. 

Somewhere in the house, you hear a door close loudly. Probably just Jihoon since everyone else has left. For a moment, you consider going downstairs to see what he’s up to. But, again, you’re not really friends. Moving seems like too much effort, anyway. You flop back onto your bed and get comfortable. Wait until you’re hungry to actually leave your room to find something to eat. You’re probably going to need more groceries before Christmas, because you still want to make some of your favorites, but you probably have enough for something to eat tonight. When you walk into the kitchen, you smell something delicious. There’s a big pot on the stove with the burner on beneath it. 

You’re just about to lift the lid when Jihoon comes back into the kitchen. “Leave it.” 

“Oh, sorry!” you gasp, surprised by his appearance and unsure of the tone.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says. “I just don’t wanna fuck it up.” 

“That’s a big pot of soup,” you say.

“Yeah, I figured you might be hungry,” he says, like it’s the most logical thing in the world.

“Oh!” you say. 

“I mean, I don’t know if you like Chicken Ramen soup, it’s a little spicy, but I like it around this time of year,” Jihoon says. He looks a bit awkward and unsure.

“That sounds really nice, actually,” you admit. “You don’t mind sharing?” 

“No, I wanted to share,” he assures you. “It’ll be done soon.”

With a nod, you go to sit down at the kitchen table. The silence isn’t totally comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. Not exactly. This is already shaping up to be the most time you’ve spent alone with him, if you end up eating together. It makes you wonder more about him. He seems really focused as he cleans up around the kitchen. His black hair is the longest you can remember seeing it, falling around his face as he leans over. It’s almost soft to watch him brush it out of his face. 

As you’re sitting there waiting for the soup to finish, you realize that you don’t know much about him at all. Even though you’ve lived in this house almost two years, he’s still very much a mystery. You know that the house has been in the family for a long time and he was the only one who was willing to take the project of managing it on. Or that’s what you think he said once. Someone, maybe a cousin or friend or something, thought he was a bit crazy for renting rooms out like this. But, it’s a massive house and he’s single. (There are 6 bedrooms, all with attached bathrooms, multiple living rooms, and an office that he uses for himself. The house is paid off so the rent goes towards things like property taxes, maintenance plans, and anything else that comes up.) You know he also produces music, though you’ve never heard any of it. Not that anyone has, he’s very private and doesn’t even share what name he produces under. 

It’s clear when he brings each of you a bowl of soup that he’s expecting the food to do the talking for him. It’s cute and also puzzling at the same time. How does someone who wants to speak through something like making soup have a successful career as a producer? You shake the thought away and make conversation yourself. Most of what you get are short answers, but it’s something. And you definitely learn more about him. He deflects a little when you ask about his family, prefers to turn it around so you can talk about yours. Which you don’t really mind, even if it’s a little sad to think you won’t get to see them.

“Hey, I was thinking I might go and see about getting more decorations for the house tomorrow. Is that okay?” you ask when you’re finished eating.

“You really like Christmas, don’t you?” 

It’s not really an answer, which makes you look up to find something of a smile on his face. Maybe a little teasing behind the smile. “Yeah, I just really like the joy of it all.”

“I don’t mind. There also might be some stuff in the attic that I can pull out,” he says as he stands to clear the dishes. 

“That would be better than braving the crazies,” you say.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to get up there,” he says. Doesn’t even check if you’re following him before leaving the kitchen.

You scramble to your feet to catch up to him. Truthfully, you didn’t even know the house had an attic. It isn’t surprising. It’s an old house, but still. This is just another small thing that you feel like helps you better unwrap the mystery of Lee Jihoon. Upstairs, he opens the closet and pulls out a hook to unlatch a door in the ceiling just outside of Minghao’s room. Huh. You’ve never even noticed it, not that you’re outside this room often. To your further surprise, Jihoon flicks on a switch and then climbs up the ladder into the attic. Once again, you follow close behind him. 

There are a lot of boxes in the attic, mostly labeled with names or rooms or both. You figure they probably belong to relatives. Or maybe past renters. In any case, it seems best to not bother asking. Especially since he’s making a beeline to one corner. You fight the urge to laugh. So much for thinking there were decorations up here. By the way he walks, you can tell he knows exactly where they are. It’s worth it, though, because there are about a dozen boxes with garlands, ornaments, wreaths, and other various knickknacks. Jihoon asks which of the boxes you might want and sighs when you say you want to bring them all down. Doesn’t argue, though, just tells you how to help him get them down. Even helps you get some of them downstairs.

“Guess we might need a tree,” he sighs when you get the last box out of the attic.

“Oh, I can find a fake one at the store or something. It’s no big deal,” you mumble out.

“I have to take care of something in the morning, then we can go pick one out,” he says without looking at you.

“Really?” It comes out nearly as a squeak. 

He rolls his eyes, which might discourage you if you hadn’t also caught the faintest smile. “Yeah, we might as well with all this stuff out of the attic.” 

You distinctly hear him mumbling something about the damn Christmas spirit as he walks away, leaving you to happily sort through boxes. Hope can be dangerous, especially around the holidays when your plans are interrupted. But, you can’t help it. You feel a little spark of hope.

The house is quiet when you wake up. It’s hard to tell if Jihoon is around or not until you peek out into where you all park to see that his truck is missing. When you first met him, the truck surprised you. It’s not really flashy, or even new, for that matter, just an old, vintage Chevy that’s in completely perfect condition. It’s probably older than either of you, but you’d never know by how it looks. The more you get to know this man, the more the truck makes sense.

With the house empty, you can listen to music as loud as you want. You connect your phone to the speaker and Christmas music carries throughout the house in moments. Coffee in hand, you set out to get some of the decorations up while it’s just you. But, even with the music and the decorations, you’re feeling a little empty again. It’s not the same to be doing this all by yourself. You know, at least on some level, that you’re not totally alone. There’s also Jihoon and he isn’t going anywhere for the holidays. But, he obviously doesn’t like Christmas much if the lack of decorations or tree are anything to go by. Maybe you’re just a burden on him too.

Your phone dings and you look around for a minute before you find it on the table. The surprise of who’s texting you makes you unlock your phone right away.

Jihoon: Finished early and actually found a tree that works when I was driving home Jihoon: I hope that’s okay. I didn’t want it to be gone

There’s no explanation for the tears you’re blinking away. It’s not about picking out the tree. That part of Christmas hasn’t ever been an important part to you. Ever since you moved away, your parents got one before you flew in anyway. No, it’s more to do with the little you know about Jihoon and that truck. It’s almost like his child. He’s so careful about it. Somehow, Jun has managed to at least get to the point of being friends with him. Then again, Jun can wear anyone down. But, through Jun, you know how particular Jihoon can be about his truck. You distinctly remember Jun saying he wasn’t allowed to eat or drink in it (not that unusual) and that he had to brush off his shoes before getting in to avoid the dirt (a lot more unusual, especially someplace it snows). It probably doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably just your emotions about the change of holiday plans taking over. But, you’re overwhelmed that he’d pick up a tree and use his own truck.

You: oh, yeah! thanks! You: let me know you’re here and i’ll come help

The tree that Jihoon shows up with is completely perfect. Even still wrapped, you can tell that it’s going to be full. And that you’re going to have to work a little harder to get the branches to fall by Christmas. Not only did Jihoon use his truck to bring a tree back, he also has several bags of stuff, including a tree stand. It makes you wonder what he actually had to do this morning. It isn’t until you have to bring the tree in that you wonder how the hell you’re going to lift it into the house. That is, until Jihoon reaches through the branches and lifts up the tree. You try not to watch the way his muscles tense under his shirt. Fail miserably, actually, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He calls for you from the living room to help him fasten the tree into place. It’s a good thing, too, because you don’t really need to be dwelling on whether the guy who’s basically your landlord is hot or not. 

Once the tree is up, he makes an excuse about needing to get some work done and disappears off to his studio. It had actually been really fun, even if it was short, to have Jihoon around and sharing in the space. It feels a little empty again. But, there’s still plenty of decorating to do. So you get to work. You’re hoping that somewhere in the process of decorating, it’ll start to feel a little more like Christmas. You consider calling Jun to answer his texts. Unfortunately, he knows your tones of voice better than you do. There’s no way you’ll be able to hide being sad. You can just fire off a couple quick texts to tell him about the tree and about how you’re decorating now. 

An hour later, you’re kind of ready to give up. It’s just not going to feel like Christmas. Not when the joy and the sense of togetherness are missing. The second that you hear footsteps on the stairs, you wipe your eyes. The last thing you want is for Jihoon to see you crying. If he can tell, he doesn’t comment. Doesn’t say anything, actually. Just puts two bags down and starts sorting through ornaments, both old and clearly new. It’s the smallest gesture, yet you don’t feel so alone anymore. 

“Do you want to listen to some music?” he finally asks to break the silence.

“Yeah, I can get a playlist,” you answer and reach for your phone.

“I have some, too. I’m not heartless,” he says with a chuckle.

“I never said…” you start, only to stop when he rests a hand on your arm.

“I was joking,” he says. 

You’re not trying to be nosy, but you see him scroll through a few playlists while he’s looking for holiday music. “What were those?” 

Jihoon looks up at you, confused, before looking back down at his phone. “Oh, nothing. Just stuff I’m working on.” 

“I’d love to hear that,” you admit.

“What? The stuff that’s not done?” he asks, abandoning his search for a playlist.

“Well, yeah, but I meant the stuff you have finished,” you say.

“Oh, um, I don’t usually share that. I like to keep that separate,” he says awkwardly.

“It’s fine, I totally get it,” you say, brushing off any disappointment, and return to your focus on sorting through ornaments. 

“Fuck it, sure. I’ll let you listen to some,” he says. Your head whips up with a beaming smile. And you have no way of knowing that it makes his heart stutter.

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, but if you hate them, don’t tell me,” he warns. 

You hold out your pinky as a promise. Jihoon grumbles under his breath for a second before linking his pinky through yours as a promise. He scrolls back to one of the earlier playlists, keeps the name hidden from you, and hits play. The first song immediately puts you in a good mood. It’s upbeat and happy, full of good life advice. Just the type of thing you need right now. One song flows into the next and you’re smiling without even realizing it, singing along to songs that you can’t believe you know. Can’t believe this quiet man has so much talent. Can’t believe he works on such popular songs and still lives a simple life in a shared house with roommates that are way too loud.

It’s him that starts the conversation up again, seemingly unable to stop himself from asking for your thoughts. It’s the most animated you’ve ever seen him, asking for your opinions and talking about his process. The more you listen, the more he seems to have to say. At times, you’re not even sure that you hear what he’s saying. This animated side to him has you so entranced that you think you’d do anything to keep him speaking. Keep him smiling like this. 

The house feels a lot warmer now that you’re decorating together and talking about anything under the sun. Talking about music seems to have opened him up to talking about a lot of things. About his interests, books he’s reading, games he likes to play. You find there are actually a lot of those things that you have in common. You have similar taste in books and in games, even offer to lend some books to him. He makes you promise that it’ll be an even trade so that he feels better about it. 

When dinner time comes around, he suggests ordering delivery. You agree, but only on the condition that you can figure out a Christmas menu over dinner. That signature sigh and eye roll make another appearance, like he’s so exasperated by the process. It’s less effective now that you’re starting to know him better. A part of you thinks that it might even be an action reserved for people he cares about, even if that care is only small. But, you’re starting to learn how to play the game too. You pout at him and make your eyes as big as you can when you ask the second time. Before you can ask the third time, he relents and agrees. 

With your favorite food spread out in front of you, from a place he’s somehow never tried, you start to make a list of your favorite Christmas dishes. Thankfully, some of your favorite things seem to line up and otherwise, Jihoon doesn’t really mind what you have. Once, he reminds you that there are only two of you, so you don’t need to go overboard. You’re quick to point out that leftovers are great and that your housemates come back shortly after Christmas. Again, he finds himself giving in to what you want. 

You’re watching him clean up the boxes and considering your next question. “Can I ask you something?”

“You just did,” he points out, back still to you. 

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “You’re such a dick.”

“Now is that any way to speak to your landlord?” he teases, finally turning around.

“That’s actually what I wanted to ask you,” you say.

“If you can call me a dick?” he wonders and you laugh.

“No,” you manage. “No. I wanted to know…well, you’re obviously successful. Why live in a house with so many loud housemates?” 

Jihoon looks thoughtful for a moment, turns around to continue throwing things out. You think he’s not going to answer when he comes to sit down across from you again. “I like the chaos. It's good for me. I don’t just mean because it inspires me. It does. But, it’s also good. I get a little in my head, if you haven’t noticed. I don’t always have the easiest time getting out. There’s always someone around here.” 

“You secretly like us,” you coo because you’re not sure what else to say.

“I regret telling you,” he says and huffs.

“I’m kidding, Ji. I really like living here, even if you scared me at first. It feels like a weird, dysfunctional family,” you say.

“Do I still?” he asks, oddly serious.

“What? Scare me?” 

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t. I think you’re actually a lot softer than you want us to realize,” you say and watch his face. “Don’t worry, Ji, your secret’s safe with me.” 

“Is that nickname going to stick?” he wonders.

“That depends. Do you like it?” 

“Would it matter if I said no?” 

“Of course it would.” 

He looks away and clears his throat. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was a little shy or embarrassed. “I do like it.” 

“I’ll be sure to use it a lot, then,” you say. More tease, really. You’re curious to see how he reacts and you’re not disappointed. There’s a slight blush to his cheeks. If you could see his ears through his hair, you think those would be tinged red as well. 

It takes him a minute to regain his composure. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re exhausting?”

“How do you think I manage to keep up with Jun?” you fire back.

“He adores you, you know,” Jihoon says and it’s the softest you’ve seen him while talking about another person. 

“I’m glad because I adore him, too,” you say without even thinking about it. “Although, sometimes he acts like the brother I definitely never wanted.” 

Jihoon actually laughs at that, a real laugh, and the sound is so pretty. “The brother you never wanted. How does he feel about that?”

“Fine because I also tell him that sometimes he’s the brother I did want. So it evens out,” you reason.

“You see him like family?” he asks, an unplaceable emotion on his face.

“Yeah,” you answer immediately.

“Why didn’t you take his offer to go home with him for the holidays?” 

That’s not the question you’re expecting. It makes you frown a little. You had forgotten, just for a moment, that this year was different. “Oh, well, I don’t know. Jun is family to me and I do love him like he’s my brother. But, um, I guess it’s that he’s family to me. Not his family. I like them and they’re great, but it would feel like intruding to have accepted. Like I was someone they had to make feel welcome, a guest. Not someone who was actually part of everything.” 

“I get that,” he says. 

“Why do you stay here on Christmas?” you wonder, venturing further into knowing him.

His shoulders slump a little bit, like he’s not really happy with how this turned either. “I don’t really talk to a lot of my family anymore.” 

“I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t…” you start and he waves you off.

“No, no, it’s fine. You asked me about being successful and still living here with housemates. I told you most of the story, but not all of it,” he admits. 

Without thinking about it, you get up from your chair to sit beside him. Put your hand on his arm to let him know that he doesn’t have to share this part of himself if he doesn’t want to or if he’s not ready. But, he insists he wants to share it with you now that you’ve also heard some of his music. His grandfather owned his house and got it from his grandfather before him. Jihoon had always been close to his grandparents. He was the only grandkid to come around and help them with things. His grandmother would try to teach him how to cook, even though he was never very good. She also taught him all sorts of games, that’s where he got a lot of that from. His grandfather taught him how to fix a car himself, how to fix things around the house, just how to be able to rely on yourself. They were the first ones that he told about wanting to make music and the first to encourage him even when the rest of the family thought it was stupid. They were the first ones to find out he’d gotten his first shot at just seventeen years old. They were the ones who taught him how to be careful with his money, to not blow it all because you never knew when the next shot would come. In the end, it wasn’t even old age that took them. A car accident on a snowy night took his grandmother. He lost his grandfather six months later from a broken heart. 

It’s hard to remember that time because they were everything to him. He hadn’t even realized that they had changed their Will. That they had rewritten it to leave everything to him. If he had known, he never would have accepted it. But, there was a letter, too, confirming his grandfather had been of sound mind when they changed it. It went on to say that Jihoon was the only one in the family that came around just because he wanted to. So, he was the only one they felt could care for their legacy after they were gone. Something like that, it brings out the worst in people. Jihoon’s family was no different. First, they all insisted that he should share it, that they were owed part of it by blood. And then, they started to realize that he had his own success already. That he was selling songs and working with more people. They didn’t know who, exactly, because he never told him his pseudonym for producing, but the final letter from his grandfather mentioned how proud they had been. It got even uglier from there. Family members he’d never spoken to came out of the woodwork asking for favors or saying he should help. He had the means to do it, by his own success and the inheritance. In the end, he wound up cutting most of them out unless they were able to understand that they weren’t entitled to something he earned. 

“So that’s why I stay here, it’s just easier,” he finishes.

You’re not even sure when you started crying, but you turn away to wipe your eyes. It’s not even your sadness. When you turn back, you find Jihoon looking closed-off. It breaks your heart all over again as you reach out to him. “Nobody should have to deal with that. What they did, what they put you through, it’s awful.” 

“We all have history, right?” he asks. “I just don’t like to share it because I don’t want to be questioning if people like me for me or for what I could do for them.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I still see you as a former grumpy cat, secret softie and my…” you start, but trail off, trying to find the right word.

“Landlord?” he suggests through a humorless laugh. It makes your eyes soften at him.

“No, friend,” you decide. 

“I just dumped a bunch of trauma on you and you wanna be my friend?” he asks, partly self-deprecating, partly hopeful.

“You don’t seem so bad,” you shrug. 

“I guess we’ll see,” he says softly.

The rest of the night is lighter, mostly with you trying to figure out more things he likes as subtly as possible. He laughs when you come downstairs with the presents you’re saving until Christmas to open because he can tell Jun’s right away. You don’t tell him that you’ve already ordered half a dozen small things that’ll be at the house by Christmas Eve so that you can wrap them all up for him. You just want to see his face.

Two days before Christmas, you and Jihoon finish off the decorations and pick up groceries. Well, you’re the one who picks up groceries after insisting on splitting the bill. Jihoon has another mysterious errand that he has to run. Even though you really want to know, you decide to let him have his secrets. At least for now. You’re beginning to understand that he trusts you and he’ll tell you whatever it is when he’s ready, if it even has anything to do with you at all. 

When the morning of Christmas Eve dawns, you’re actually excited. The past few days have been a whirlwind, and you’re definitely not done, but the house feels like Christmas. Three days ago you never would have thought Jihoon was enough to bring that holiday joy into the house. Now, you’re so insanely thankful that he’s gone above and beyond. Without anyone else around, or any other distractions, it’s been like a crash course in getting to know each other. There’s so much more to him than you ever realized. 

The day passes in a haze of cooking, wrapping last minute presents, and laughter. Lots of laughter. You’ve heard Jihoon laugh more in the last couple days than in the entire time you’ve lived here. Not for the first time, you think it’s a wonderful sound and wish he’d laugh more. It’s easy to understand why he doesn’t, why he’s so guarded, but still. A person can dream. 

With all the food prepped and the tree perfectly decorated, you decide it’s time to put your additional presents underneath. Jihoon huffs when you say you just got him a few small things you thought he’d like, before returning with a handful of presents for you. Every fiber of your being wants to give him shit over it. But, it’s Christmas, so you just call a truce instead. And light up like a kid when he suggests starting a fire in the fireplace. 

“I’ll go make adult hot cocoa,” you tell him when he starts crumpling up old newspapers for the base of the fire.

“Adult hot cocoa?” he asks, face scrunched up like he’s adorably confused.

“Unless you just want the non-alcoholic version,” you offer.

“I’ll at least try it,” he concedes. His smile is soft when you squeal and run off to the kitchen. 

By the time you’ve melted the chocolate (because who uses a premade mix in a kitchen this nice?), Jihoon has the fire going and is sitting on the couch. You’re about to ask why he’s scrolling his phone when he presses a button and Christmas music softly starts playing through the speakers. You hand over his mug and watch as he takes a sip. Even if he tries to hide it, you can tell he loves it and your smile is victorious. Probably why he tries to hide it. 

You’re onto your second mug and asking Jihoon to find a blanket so that you can sit on the floor in front of the couch. It’s easier to stretch out closer to the fire. As is his way, he whines about how it’ll be too warm, even though you tell him he doesn’t have to sit with you. Still, he gets the blanket and plops down right next to you, so close that you’re almost touching. It only takes a couple minutes before he’s complaining that it’s really warm and then pulling off his sweatshirt. Your retort dies on your lips when you turn your head to the side and see the way the sweatshirt pulls his t-shirt up on the way. Or how muscular his arms look now that they’re exposed. You’re thankful that you look away before he catches you. 

It’s quiet between the two of you as you watch the flames dance in the fireplace. There’s only comfort now, unlike a few days ago. That strikes you. Has it only been a few days since this man was something of a stranger to you? It almost feels like a lifetime ago. When you turn your head to him, you find he’s already looking at you.

“Can I admit something?” you ask. 

“Course,” he says softly.

“I’m really glad I decided to stay here for Christmas,” you say, equally softly. You want to take a mental image of the smile that follows. 

“Can I admit something, too?” he asks. You only nod. “I’m really glad you did too. This is the best Christmas I’ve had in years and it’s still only Christmas Eve.” 

Before you can think better of it, you lean forward and kiss his cheek. Just for a second. Then you drop your head to his shoulder and let out a sigh. It’s the most content you’ve felt in a long time. Jihoon adjusts his arm, and you worry he doesn’t want your head on his shoulder, until he just moves it along the edge of the couch. It lets you lean against him easier, so you scoot a little closer and settle again. After another minute, he rests his head on top of yours. Without even seeming to realize it, his arm curls around your shoulder, holding you tight to him. It makes you acutely aware of his body next to yours. Moments ago, you were thinking that you could fall asleep like this. Now, you’re wide awake. 

He must sense some kind of change because he pulls his head up. “Are you okay?” 

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. You wonder how he can sound so calm when your brain is overthinking everything. “Yeah, I just, I don’t know. Being close to you like this is really nice and not at all what I was expecting.” 

Jihoon reaches out to tilt your chin up so that he can look you in the eyes. “It doesn’t have to be something you’re not expecting. It is nice to be close to you like this.” 

That’s the other thing you can’t really believe has changed so much in a matter of days. This man is a walking contradiction in so many ways. Grumpy as a default, yet so incredibly soft. The most private person you’ve met, yet willing to share why he struggles with Christmas. Rough around the edges, yet also unfailingly kind. Constantly wearing oversized clothes, yet secretly really fit. Okay, maybe that’s not so much a contradiction as you checking him out. 

“What if I was open to it being more than just being close?” you venture.

“How much is in your adult hot cocoa?” he asks, with some obvious difficulty.

“Enough to make me a little more honest, maybe, but not even enough to get buzzed on,” you answer. 

“Then, I can say if you’re open to more than just being close, I really fucking want to kiss you,” he says. “I have all day.”

“Just all day?” you tease. He gives you an unimpressed look. “What are you waiting for?” 

“You to say it’s okay,” he says and leans closer to you. 

“It’s okay, Ji,” you whisper, lips already nearly touching. 

You’re expecting a soft kiss, are as prepared for that as you can be. And it starts off relatively soft, like he’s testing the waters. It quickly morphs into anything, but soft. It’s the kind of kiss that sets your entire body on fire. The kind of kiss that steals your breath and becomes the only thing you need. It’s steady and desperate, all at the same time. You’re not even sure how your hands find their way into his hair that curls along his neck. It’s even softer than you imagined it would be. 

“So, is this your move?” you ask, pulling away just long enough to catch your breath.

“What?” he asks. His lips are already a little swollen.

“Getting the fire going with a little music on in the background,” you tease.

“Trust me,” he begins, punctuating his words with featherlight kisses along your neck. “I’ve never gone to this much trouble for anyone and it definitely wasn’t to get here.” 

The confession is so honest. So serious. It’s completely at odds with your teasing. But, should you really expect anything else from Jihoon? He can tease with the best of them, for sure. The last few days he’s also shown that you bring out an honesty that surprises him. You’re not sure if you trust yourself to speak, so you just pull his face up to kiss him again. It’s kind of an uncomfortable position, leaning against the couch, but you’re also not really sure if you care. That is, you’re not sure you care until he turns to pull you into his lap. It’s a little awkward and you have to break the kiss to get settled. Once you’re settled, though, it’s much nicer to be straddled across him like this. Much easier to press your chest into his and keep tangling your fingers in his hair. Much easier for him to wrap his arms around you like he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to tell him that there’s nowhere else in the world you’d rather be. 

As you kiss him, you let your hands wander down his arms. There’s a safety in being held by him. There’s a strength to him you really never realized, kind of quiet like he is, a little unassuming. The kind of strength that sneaks up on you when you’re not really expecting it. Not only does every part of your body respond to him, but your mind does too. It’s just safe. You’re not sure how you know, you just do. He’s the kind of person that you can really trust to see all of you and still accept you. It’s entirely too much to be feeling about someone this fast, so you push that aside. When you inch your bodies closer together, your core drags across him and sends an ache through you. You do it several more times, back and forth, craving that friction.

“Fuck,” he hisses out. 

“I’m sorry, is that too much?” you worry. Suddenly a little self-conscious that there’s been some kind of miscommunication. 

He grabs your chin and pulls you back to look into his eyes. “No. It’s never too much. I want whatever you’re willing to give me.” 

“But, you don’t know what I’m…” you start. His eyes are serious, intense. You’re burning up and it has nothing to do with the fire.

“Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll happily take it. Even if that means it doesn’t go past this,” he reassures you. 

“I think I want it all,” you whisper. 

“You think you do, or you actually do?” he asks. 

You study him for a moment, looking for signs that he’s going to hurry off or something. With one of his hands, he’s tracing patterns against your thigh through the material of your pants. Everything about him seems sincere. Everything seems steady. 

“I do.” 

It’s a different smile he gives you then, one that says he’s relieved, maybe even a little surprised. One that says he’s genuinely happy. But, most of all, one that says he just wants whatever the night turns into. 

“Let’s go upstairs, I don’t want you hurting your knees like this,” he says softly. 

You look over your shoulder at the fireplace and he follows your gaze. “We should…”

“I’ll take care of that, just go upstairs. To my room,” he says and you suppress a slight shudder at being told what to do. You kind of like that side of him. “Get comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.” 

You get off his lap, quietly thankful for his consideration of your knees and kiss him softly. It’s also easy to see that he’s giving you a little bit of time to be sure. To clear your head away from the tree and the fire and the holiday everything. It’s time you don’t need because you’re definitely sure. The second you step foot through his door, you realize that you’ve never been in his bedroom before. It’s beautifully decorated in a way that screams him. When you sit down on the edge of the bed, you sigh. It’s so comfortable. 

This part hasn’t ever been the easiest for you, the waiting for someone to come into the room and knowing what’s going to happen. But, you do know what’s happening and sitting there completely clothed seems silly. In the end, you settle for leaving your sleeveless shirt and underwear on, but taking everything else off, including your bra. You just have time to sit back against the bed when he walks through the door and closes it behind him. Force of habit, you assume, since there isn’t anyone else home. His eyes drink you in, scanning down your body and all your curves. It’s so immediately comfortable that you don’t have the urge to cover back up. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he utters and it makes you blush a little. “Has anyone ever told you that?” 

“Not in a while when I’ve been this undressed,” you answer quietly with your head down. 

You feel the bed dip and look up at him, sitting right in front of you. “That’s crazy. You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever known.” 

“You’re so sweet,” you say with a smile.

“It’s what you deserve,” he says and gets back off the bed. 

It’s his turn to remove the layers, stopping when all he has are his boxer briefs. You fight back a gasp (and lose, as is evident by his smirk) when he takes off his shirt. What the fuck?

“Jihoon, what the fuck? Come here,” you request. He listens, but takes his time. When he’s within your reach, you run your fingers along his stomach. Trace each ab muscle like you can’t believe this is what’s been under the shirt the whole time. 

“I work about a bit,” he shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“A bit, he says,” you tease back.

“Can I get in the bed now? Or do I have to stay here?” he asks.

“You can get in bed, but I want to be in your lap again,” you state.

“Fine by me,” he readily agrees. 

There’s a weird sense of time with him. You could kiss him for hours, may just do that. It also feels like it’s only been seconds when you pull back to catch your breath. You delight in the way he hisses when you run your nails down his stomach. Yelp when he smacks your ass in response. But, it doesn’t stop you from doing it again, maybe just so you can get another smack. You tell him not to be too gentle with you and he groans. There’s still that little bit of clothing between you, though, and it’s hard to get the friction you need. 

It’s like he senses what you want, or maybe what you need, and he positions you over one of his thighs. Helps you move back and forth to find a rhythm. It gives you that friction that you’ve been craving. He peppers kisses all over, trying to find the places that you like. Lingers wherever gets the best noises out of you. All while you grind against his thigh. When you think it can’t get better, he pulls your shirt up over your head and casts it aside. He rolls one of your nipples between his fingers. The look on his face when you arch into his fingers is so satisfied. It makes him carry on while also kissing across your chest.

“Fuck, Ji, if I keep this up I’m gonna come on your thigh,” you whimper.

“So do it,” he answers.

“I can’t, that’s…” you start, cutting off when he sucks hard into the skin of your breast. “Fuck!” 

“That’s what?” he prompts, returning to your nipple.

“I can’t come just from this,” you mutter lamely. It makes you feel like a teenager. 

“Then I better help because I want you to make a mess,” he says. 

Before you can protest, he’s kissing you again. His thumb hooks into your underwear and rubs across your clit in time with you rocking. It’s too much all at once. Too much stimulation. Too close. Too different. It all works, though, because you’re coming undone in seconds. Making a mess of his thigh just like he wanted. Screaming out his name and thankful to know nobody else can hear you. You lean forward to rest your forehead against his, trying to steady your breathing. 

“That was so hot,” he whispers into the limited space between you.

“I’ve never gotten off like that before,” you admit. 

“I wonder if there’s anything else I can pull out of you for the first time,” he says. 

“Like what?” you wonder.

“I guess we’ll see,” he answers

“I think it’s time for me to take care of you,” you say.

He kisses you gently and pulls away. “Not yet.” 

“But,” you start, only to cut off when he flips the two of you over. 

The shock over being completely manhandled by Jihoon is all you register until you feel his fingers by your hips, tugging your ruined underwear down your legs. All you can do is watch as he kisses from your ankle all the way up your inner thigh and down the other side. When he pulls himself back up your body to settle between your legs, you shiver. Try to play it off as his breath against your cunt, still slick. You watch as he spreads your lips open so that he can lick into you. 

“Fuck, Ji,” you whine out. 

“Just relax, sweetheart,” he urges before diving into you again. 

You’re expecting it to be a little frenzied. Not that you’ve never enjoyed getting eaten out, but you just kind of see it as foreplay to get through. That was before Jihoon, apparently. He takes his time, carefully builds you up again. Has you begging for something more. Has you uttering phrases that don’t make any sense. Has you seeing stars in the darkness of the room. Has you feeling the loss when he removes his mouth.

“No, Ji, please,” you beg. “Your tongue feels so good.” 

“I know,” he says and then he’s kissing you. 

He keeps kissing you as he runs a finger through your wetness, once and then again. Keeps kissing you when he slides his finger inside of you. Nips at your lip when you moan at the addition of his second finger. You can feel how tightly you’re coiled from the build up with his tongue. The way he fucks his fingers into you, you know you won’t last long. It’s hard and fast and as desperate as you felt moments ago when you begged for him. He’s relentless, even when your walls grip his fingers and your toes start to curl. You come so hard on his finger that he actually has you squirting. And honestly, he’s got you blacking out a little bit too. 

“Jesus fucking christ,” you curse when he falls beside you. “Your fingers, your mouth, oh my god.” 

“I’d ask if it was good, but I think I know the answer,” he chuckles. 

You swat at his chest, but he catches your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. So tender that it takes the bite out of your next statement. “Fuck off.” 

“Your body is so amazing, I could watch you come every day and never get sick of it,” he admits. 

You prop yourself up on an elbow to look at him. He’s laying on his back, hand casually running over his already hard dick through his briefs. You move his hand and free him. There’s a hunger in his gaze as he watches you spit into your hand and start running it along his shaft. 

“Go slow,” he requests and you look at up at him. “Watching you is so hot that I’m a little wound up. And I still want to fuck you.” 

“Jihoon, you’ve already…” you start. 

“Please. You can take care of me anytime. I want to feel you around me,” he whispers. It’s not quite a beg, but it’s close. All you can do is nod okay. “I need to hear you.”

“Yes, Ji, I want you to fuck me,” you say. 

He rolls over on the bed to reach into the bedside table and rustles around for a minute. The sign before he rolls back over sounds bad. “I don’t have a condom. It’s, uh, well it’s been awhile.” 

“It’s okay,” you say.

“I guess maybe this will have to…” he starts.

“No, I mean it’s fine. I’m on birth control and it’s been awhile for me too, so it’s fine. I trust you,�� you say, finding you do actually trust him. 

“Are you sure?” he checks.

“Fuck, yes, please. I don’t care that you’ve made me come twice already, please fuck me,” you insist and it works. He smiles and slides his briefs off. 

In another second, he’s positioning himself between your legs again. You lay back against the pillow behind your head and just look up at him, so impossibly fond. It’s too soon to be this fond. But, you see the same look in his eyes, so maybe you’re not alone. He lines himself up and drags his tip against your entrance. Opens the lube you hadn’t even noticed and takes it into his hand. He lets it warm up for a second before running his hand over his dick. Then, he’s back at your entrance and slowly pressing into you. He takes his time letting you adjust, watches your face for signs that it’s okay. He leans forward to kiss you and it’s so gentle you want to cry. 

You’re glad this is slow, that he’s taking his time. It’s not that you’re inexperienced, it’s just that you can’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable with anyone. You’re not sure you’ve ever known how nice it was to just look into someone’s eyes while you’re fucking. Not sure you’ve wanted to be this close. Jihoon’s body is pressed against yours as he thrusts into you, but it’s still not enough. You wrap your legs around his hips, run your fingers down his back, arch into him. Anything to meld your bodies together that much more. He’s not as vocal now, but you’re probably taking care of that for both of you. You can see all the things he wants to say in the eyes that stay trained on you. 

His thrusts start to get a little off rhythm and your moans become more broken. “Fuck, Ji, yes! Right there.”

“I’m gonna fucking come, oh my god,” he moans out. 

“Me too,” you whine. “Fuck, it’s too much.”

“Come for me, please, I need to feel you,” he very nearly begs. 

“Fuck, I’m coming!” you scream out. 

Your whole body shudders and you sort of register the praise coming from Jihoon. He follows right behind you, releasing into you. You can tell he’s trying to keep his weight off of you, but you pull him to just let go. Reluctantly, he settles his body down on top of yours. The weight is pleasant and being close to him is even better. After a moment, his breathing falls into line with yours. It’s several moments longer before he carefully pulls out of you and rolls to the side. 

“Wow,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agree. 

It’s much later than usual for you by the time you wake up on Christmas morning. But, it had been late by the time you and Jihoon had gotten cleaned up and back in bed. Even later by the time you stopped wanting to talk while all cuddled up. When you wake up, you feel his chest pressed into your back and his arm draped across your body. The second you start to move, his arm tightens and he somehow pulls you closer to him. He presses kiss into your hair. 

“Merry Christmas,” he says, voice thick with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you answer. 

He adjusts behind you and you realize he’s a little hard again, pressing into your ass. Even though you know it’s not fair, you wiggle your ass against him. You’re more than a little surprised when he bucks, just once, into you in response. 

“Sorry, I’m sure you’re a little sore this morning,” he says, still hoarse. 

“Not so sore,” you answer, pressing back again.

“Don’t you want to see what’s under the tree?” he asks, the teasing clear in his voice.

You turn over so you’re facing him. “I think I’d rather unwrap this present first.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he groans. But, he pulls you against him all the same, clearly not opposed. 

Once you’re both showered again and dressed, you pad downstairs and straight into the kitchen to find Jihoon is already at the counter getting the coffee going. He looks so cute with his messy, wet hair, that you can’t help yourself. You have to come up and hug him from behind. Place a kiss between his shoulder blades and then rest your head. All he can do is just put a hand over yours. 

“What do you want for breakfast?” you ask when you pull away. 

“The cinnamon rolls you insisted we had to have,” he says like it’s obvious.

By the time you get those in the oven, he’s handing you a perfect cup of coffee, exactly the way you like it. It feels like neither of you can be physically separated. Hands finding each other as you move around the kitchen. Little kisses as you pass by. Just drawn together like magnets. Once the cinnamon rolls come out, and you add the extra icing that you insisted on, the two of you head to the living room. 

You think you were supposed to text or call Jun when you open his present, but you’re a little stuck on opening the things Jihoon got you at the last minute. He insists that you go first and open your presents so that he can see your reaction. The first couple are silly, but thoughtful. Just little things that show he’s actually been paying attention to you much longer than you realized. Not that he had some kind of crush or anything, just that he pays attention when people talk. When you think you’re done, he pulls out a small box. 

“I wanted you to open this last,” he says in response to your confused look. 

It’s a small box, very nicely wrapped. You open it to find a beautiful necklace, simple and stunning. Exactly the kind of thing you like to wear. But, exactly the type of thing you can’t accept. “JIhoon, it’s beautiful. But, you must know it’s too much. I can’t take this.” 

“I didn’t spend anything on it,” he assures you and slides closer so he can look down at it in the box. “It was my grandmother’s. And before you say you can’t take it again, she’d want someone to have it. She wanted to pass her jewelry on, but was so sick of our family. I think she’d really like you, so I want you to have it.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and lean forward to kiss him. 

Watching Jihoon open the little things that you got him is everything you hoped it would be. He’s so appreciative of each thing, even if they seem small to you. They’re all things he says he really needs. To him, that’s one of the best kinds of gifts because it shows that you’re listening. It shows that you want to make someone else’s life just a little easier. It nearly makes you emotional when he’s the one opening things. 

You want to stay curled up on the couch with Jihoon forever, watching stupid Christmas movies and invading his personal space. He grumbles a little at you clinging to him, but pouts the second you pull away. Sadly, you have to get up to start some of the cooking for Christmas dinner. Jihoon offers to help, knows you’re feeling a little sore, and you wave him off. Cooking at Christmas is one of your favorite things. You get your music going and don’t even register anything else. You don’t hear his footsteps or his voice talking to someone.

“Hey, Ji? Do you think I should make all the rolls? Probably, right?” you ask and turn around to see he’s standing in the doorway holding his phone up.

“Did my bestie just call you Ji?” a voice asks from the phone. 

“Uh, yeah,” Jihoon answers and closes the distance to you. He hands over the phone. “Jun was looking for you.”

“Oh, hi, Junie! How’s your parents’?” you ask. His eyes scan you and you look down too late. You’re not wearing your shirt, it’s one of Jihoon’s that you stole because it was more comfortable.

“Not as good as it is there, apparently,” Jun says with a giggle. 

“Oh, well, you see…” you start and Jun is cackling. 

“I’ll let you get back to cooking, but expect to have a long conversation when I’m home,” he says once he stops laughing.

“You sound like my parent,” you whine. 

“Just try and tell me there’s nothing to talk about,” Jun challenges and you look over at Jihoon sitting at the kitchen table. 

“I can’t,” you say, still looking at him.

“I knew it,” Jun says, triumphant. “Give the phone back to Ji…”

“You don’t get to call me that,” Jihoon chimes in.

“So much to talk about,” Jun repeats as you hand the phone back over. 

The rest of the afternoon passes too quickly. Jihoon stays in the kitchen with you when you have to cook and lounges on the couch with you watching movies when you’re waiting for things to finish. He helps wherever he can and genuinely seems to appreciate the effort that you’re taking. Well, he appreciates it almost as much as the dinner itself when you sit down to eat. Without question, it’s the best Christmas you can remember. It turns out that maybe you were right all along. Christmas wasn’t about presents or specific people or anything. It was about feeling joy and thankful and just a deep connection with whoever you were with. It makes you realize you do need to talk to Jihoon, though. 

After dinner, the two of you settle back on the couch with a glass of wine. His free hand traces patterns into your legs that are across his lap. “Hey, so about what Jun said…” 

“Jun is an idiot,” Jihoon brushes off.

“He is, but he also has a point. There’a a lot to talk about,” you say. He turns his head to look at you.

“I meant what I said last night, I’ll take whatever you want to give me,” he says and takes another sip of wine. 

“But, that’s so…I don’t know,” you start, searching for the words. 

He just shrugs like you’re talking about something so simple. Maybe you are. “I’m pretty open about things when I’m comfortable. I’m also kind of an all in or all out guy. I don’t know, that’s probably too much. I’m happy with whatever you’re comfortable giving me.” 

“You’re going to make me fall for you, Lee Jihoon,” you tease lightly. You’re also testing a little bit.

He smiles at you, that soft one that makes his eyes crinkle. “That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” 

“I guess it doesn’t,” you agree. 

“Thank you for being the best thing about Christmas in a long time,” he says. So honest. It’s so simple, too. 

“It’s been perfect,” you agree. “The only thing that could make it better is…”

“Snow,” he interrupts.

“Yeah,” you agree.

He shakes his head and points to the window. “No, it’s snowing.” 

You turn your head to follow his finger and see he’s right. Snow falls in light, beautiful swirls just outside the window. You can’t remember the last white Christmas you had, even living somewhere it snows. 

“Wow, this really is the perfect Christmas,” you whisper. 

i hope you liked it. please reblog or leave a comment to let me know your thoughts 💕

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes 6/6

cw: angst, hurt/ comfort, smut, dirty talk, daddy dom eddie, oral (f &m), p in v, anal play, use of y/n, MDNI 18+

wc: 8.4k

AN: it's been a long time coming, but the last chapter is here! I've been writing this fic for a year since I posted it as an OCx Eddie. But it deserved to be a reader insert, so I revamped it for you guys. Thank you all for taking the time to read the first Eddie series I ever started. ily all. I hope you enjoyed it <3

As the last days of camp dwindled, for the first time, you found yourself overwhelmed by an intense longing to be back in Hawkins. Each day passed in a blur, leaving you feeling numb and disconnected. Despite the efforts to maintain a composed façade for the children, you were merely going through the motions. 

You couldn't shake off the weight of the final exchange with Eddie, and the girls' attempts to help were in vain. Regret consumed you as you grappled with the realization that your actions had caused Eddie unnecessary pain. The thought of losing Eddie forced you to confront the need for change in your life, as you could not bear the prospect of living without him any longer.

The drive home seemed quicker than in previous years. The four hours it took to get home felt like nothing as your mind raced about how to make up for your mistake. You got over your pride quickly as you yearned for Eddie's company. You had everything you ever dreamed of, and you ruined it. 

The time spent falling for one another all went to waste as you tore his heart right out of his chest when you told him this was just a summer fling. Not only did you break his heart, but you also broke your own. How could you have done this to him? How could you have let your pride take over what your heart was screaming at you to take?

 Eddie was the only good thing to happen to you, the right person for you. He was kind, caring, unapologetically himself, funny, generous, looked out for others, and was light and love. You had to win him back. He was everything to you; he was the end game. So you devised a plan to get him back.

~

You’ve been home for two weeks and still have not heard from Eddie. You called him as soon as you got home, but he would let it go to the answering machine each time you called. You must have looked pathetic, begging him to talk to you. Every day, you would call once without letting up. Your sorrowful words flooded the machine so much that Eddie’s uncle Wayne was about to block your number, but Eddie stopped him. 

“What’s going on with you and this girl needs to be addressed, or I’m getting a restraining order,” Wayne huffed. 

He didn’t mean it, but your calls in the middle of the day woke him up since he was on the night shift. For the fifteenth day in a row, you called, the anticipation building up with every ring until you finally heard someone on the other line answer.

“Hello?” The voice was weathered and rough, nothing like your Eddie. 

Have you been calling the wrong number this whole time? You got his number off Ash; she wouldn’t have had it wrong?

“H-hi,” you stuttered, not expecting any time to pick up the call, “is Eddie there?” 

“No, darlin’, he’s at work. Doesn’t wanna talk to you, though. I know you keep calling, but he's busy, and I'm trying to sleep, so please stop calling.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sir! Won’t happen again.” Your heart sinks at the reality of his words. 

“Thanks”

“Sir, before you go, can you relay a message to him?”

“Sure.” 

You can tell he's annoyed. 

“Can you tell him that I’m so sorry and that I love him?” your voice cracked at the words. 

“Sure thing,” Wayne’s voice softened. He had no idea what transpired this summer between you and Eddie, but he didn’t know love was involved until now. 

“Thank you… it’s y/n, by the way.” You tried to keep your sniffles to a minimum. 

“Goodbye “y/n” 

~

When Eddie got home that night, Wayne was already making his version of nighttime breakfast. 

“Boy, sit down,” Wayne instructed as Eddie entered their shard trailer.

“Can’t I shower first?” Eddie looks at his greased-up coveralls and hands. 

“Nope, you’re going to sit and listen.”

“Feel like I’m twelve again,” he mumbled under his breath.

“Now, I don’t know what happened between you and that girl who keeps calling, but you need to work it out, son.”

Eddie doesn't respond, but Wayne can see the wheels in his head turning. 

“She called again.” Wayne sighed heavily. “I spoke to her.”

“You what?” That caught Eddie’s attention.

“She asked me to tell you that she is sorry and that she loves you.”

“I-“

“No, listen here,” he pointed the black spatula at his nephew.

"Never in my lifetime did I think you would be able to find a girl in this town who would finally see what I’ve seen your whole life? I’m not going to let you throw that away for some stupid argument.”

“It wasn’t stupid, old man; she’s embarrassed by me.” 

“Didn’t sound like that to me; she was crying. She’s been calling every day for a fortnight. I think it’s time to hear her out. Clearly, she ain’t giving up without a fight. You don’t get that kind of love nowadays.” He turned to flip his fried egg.

“She’s too good for me; the princess of Hawkins can never be with the freak.” He rolls his eyes. 

“Show her you are growing! You’ve got a real job, boy, a good steady one. None of that selling drugs bullshit, keep in line with the law, don’t fuck this up.” 

“She hurt me, old man.” 

“I don’t disagree that she did, but she had a reason for her doubts…” Wayne trails off, knowing well that his nephew has been slacking when it comes to growing up. Three repeats of his senior year, selling drugs, getting caught for petty crimes, and people thinking he worships Satan. 

“Clearly, you care for this girl; I can tell you’re moping around. 

“I’m not moping.” 

“Don’t talk back.”

“Sorry.”

"Fix it, Ed. Now you can go shower. You stink”

~

Three weeks into the fall semester, you finally gave up on trying to call Eddie. The day you spoke to Wayne was the last day you called, but it didn’t stop you from repeating his phone number in your head for some source of comfort. 

Ash had seen him here and there and told you how he was doing even though he had asked her not to say anything; her loyalty lay with you. 

She told you he had played her the messages, so he had received them, but he was choosing to ignore you even though, in her words, “he looks like shit.” 

You try to keep a brave face before your parents and classmates, but you’re starting to break. Ashley saw it the second she laid eyes on you. 

She consoled you as you broke down in her arms. You apologized over and over again because you knew that she was also friends with Eddie and had already heard his side of the story. 

~

“I can’t stand seeing you like this,” Ashely sighed as she walked into the dusk-lit trailer with Eddie.

“Well, you can thank your best friend for that.” His tone was sharp. 

You had already called Ashley that night to tell her what had happened, and the second she hung up the phone, she raced over to the Munson’s.

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it; she is under a lot of pressure.”

“She did mean it. She meant it and didn’t even have the decency to tell me straight up. Then she had the nerve to tell me she loves me.” Eddie scoffs. 

“She does love you, Ed. She’s loved you since she accidentally burst into the Vecna campaign.”

“No way.”

“Yes, way. She has always had a thing for you; she was too scared to do anything. A) because she didn’t think you were into her and B) the pressure her parents put her under to be the perfect student, child, dancer, or valedictorian should be borderline child abuse..."

"Her parents would disown her, they would stop paying for her college, and they would probably kick her out if they learned their perfect angel was with you. So yea, what she did was awful and shitty, but it isn’t because she wanted to. It was because she had to.” 

“She never told me much about her home life…” Eddie turned back to face Ash, leaning back against his amp. 

“Because she is too proud. She feels this need always to be perfect, to always be on. Have you noticed how she ensures everyone around her is cared for before herself? Have you taken the time to sit and really watch her? She is the one person I know who is actually so kind-hearted and has no altered motives behind her actions.”

“She still ripped my heart out and stomped on it.”

“And she regrets it all, Eddie. I’ve never seen her like this. Please just take some time and think hard. She is sorry, and she loves you truly. I don’t know why. I don’t see the appeal, but she’s head over heels. Trust me. I’ve heard enough about the two of you to last me six lifetimes…” 

“She’s told you about…that?” Eddie’s eyes go wide.

“And then some. She’s my best friend. What did you expect?” 

“I dunno? You’re not into men, so I thought she wouldn’t share those details?” He chuckles awkwardly. 

“No, Daddy.” 

“Get out.” 

A cackle fills the room as Ash tries to escape before Eddie physically pushes her out himself. 

“Ok, ok, I’m leaving. Just think about things, okay?

“Yeah, whatever.” Eddie shrugged and closed the screen door behind her. 

~

“He’s never going to forgive me.” You lay back on your bed. You and Eddie have been broken up for a month and a half. 

“I think he will come around; he is stubborn.” Ashley joins you. 

“This town is so small. How have I not bumped into him yet?”

“Probably because he got a new job, he’s always there. We haven’t had time to come up with a date for the next campaign. 

“Do you know what the new job is? Wayne mentioned he was at work when I spoke to him but didn’t say what it was?"

“Beats me,” Ash struggled, letting her head hand off the edge of your bed as she inhaled the smoke from the joint. 

Your parents were away for the weekend, and you had the house to yourselves. 

“You got any snacks?” 

“No, you know my mother doesn’t allow any of the good stuff in the house, and I haven’t had the time to go to the store since school started.” 

“Let’s go get some.” 

“Ok,” You hadn’t taken a hit yet, so you were okay to drive. 

Things were going according to plan. They had exactly what you both wanted at the store and now you’re both on your way back to your place when suddenly, your car stalled at the fork in the road.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" you cried.

"It's okay; there's a payphone up the road. I'll call my dad; his buddy is a mechanic. He can ask for a tow," she reassured you.

"Uh, okay, here," you said as you passed her some change to make the call.

A few minutes later, you saw a baby blue, beat-up-looking truck headed your way.

"Oh, thank God."

The relief was short-lived as you watched the driver jump down from the cab.

Ash flinched when you grabbed her hand and squeezed it so tight that her fingers started turning purple. 

“Owe, what the-“ 

“Hey Ash” 

“Eddie?” She chuckled as a sick and twisted grin grew on her face.

“You called about a tow?” 

“Yeah, her car stalled.” She gestured over to you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

Eddie chose to ignore you were there, and you felt like you would throw up. 

“Ok, well, I'll hook it up to the rig; you can get in.” Eddie only spoke directly to Ash, choosing not to look at you. 

You stood there frozen, unable to speak as Ashley pulled you along with her to the tow truck. 

“Well, this is awkward.” She chuckled uncomfortably as you got in after her. 

“He’s a mechanic?” You whisper. 

“Looks like it.”

“What am I going to do?!” You’re panicking. Out of all the scenarios in which you envisioned bumping into Eddie, this was not one of them. 

“Breathe,” Ash instructs. “He is freaking out just as much as you are right now. Trust me.”

“O-oh, okay.” That didn’t settle your nerves in the slightest. 

You jerked when the driver's door swung open, and Eddie got in without as much as clearing his throat. 

“As much as I would love to catch up, I need to get home. Ed, is there any chance you can drop me off?” 

“But your stuff is at my place.” You give her a look. 

“I’ll get it tomorrow; we are almost there anyway.” 

You’re going to be best friendless in about ten minutes if she really thinks she can ditch you now, in your most desperate time of need. 

“Whatever,” Eddie mumbles and makes a left. 

“Thanks, Ed! Bye, babe!” She blows you an obnoxious kiss and turns to her house.

The cab is eerily silent, and not even the radio is on, which is very unlike Eddie. 

“She is so dead,” Eddie mumbles under his breath. 

“You’re telling me.” You agree. 

It’s the first thing you’ve said to him in a month. 

Eddie doesn’t respond, instead he keeps his eyes locked on the road while you try and make yourself smaller, as if that would make you a less of an inconvenience for him.

You were jerked out of your internal screaming when the car jerked into park. 

“We’re here.” He mumbles and gets out. 

Still uncomfortable, you take a second to gather yourself before opening your door. 

You jerk once again as the door is pulled out from under your grasp. 

You stare blankly as Eddie steps aside to let you out of the car. 

“T-thanks.” You don’t know what to do. 

He didn’t talk to you or even look at you, but he’s opening doors for you?

You follow him inside, and he opens the door for you again and tells you to wait until he’s finished. 

You anxiously wait for about forty-five minutes before Eddie returns to the waiting area. He looks devastatingly sexy like this. His coveralls are wrapped around his waist, showing off his black tank top, which clings to his sweaty body. Grease marks cover his alabaster skin. 

“When’s the last time you got this checked out?” His voice is stern. 

“I dunno? A year and a half? Maybe more?” you shrug innocently.

“No wonder it’s so fucked up.”

“Can-can you fix it?”

“You think I can’t fix it? I’m not a moron. I can do my job, y/n” 

Hearing him call you by your name was like a knife to the heart. 

“What, n-no?”

“How could you be so irresponsible!” 

“I don’t know Eddie!” You scream back. 

“What if this happened on your way home from Murdock? You’d be stuck in the middle of nowhere!”

“Well, good thing it didn’t!” 

“God, you’re infuriating” 

“Why do you even care!” 

“Woah woah woah… ok kids take it easy.” A much older mechanic came to step between the both of you. 

“Sorry, Mac,” Eddie steps back.

“Is this guy bothering you, sweetheart?” The older man, now known as Mac, asks. 

“I’m fine,” you say, shaking your head with a sniffle. 

“Ed, get back to work.” He ordered. 

“Your car might take a while, Miss. Do you want us to drive you back and pick you up when it’s ready?” 

“No, thanks, I’ll wait here.” You didn’t want to leave without your car. 

“It’s up to you. If you change your mind, let us know. Ed can drive you back.”

Sitting here for hours in silence was better than being trapped back in a car with Eddie for 15 mins.

“Thanks.” 

~

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm glow over the horizon, you could feel your impatience growing. The tension in the air was palpable as if it could be sliced with a knife. Your mind was a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts as you grappled with how to approach him.

The mechanics left one by one until only Eddie and you remained. Unable to contain your restlessness any longer, you stuck your head into the garage area. The overpowering scent of motor oil and dirt floods your nostrils, hitting you like a wall. You struggled not to gag, but Eddie’s notice of your disgust did not escape.

“Sorry, this place isn’t clean enough for you, Princess.”

His inflection on your usual pet name was so harsh that you physically jerked back.

“I was just wondering how long it will be?” 

“Almost done.” 

“O-ok. Thanks” 

“I’m not doing you a favour. It’s my job.”

“You never told me you like working on cars.” You don’t know why you’re trying to keep the conversation going. Maybe you missed the sound of his voice, or maybe you’re a glutton for punishment? Maybe you missed him so bad you thought your heart would leap out of your chest if you didn’t touch him. 

“Like is a strong word. I’m good at it.” He shrugs. 

“You’re good at a lot of things,” the compliment slips out. 

“Whatever.” He sniffs and gets down on the creeper to take a look underneath. 

You choose to stay and watch him work; no one else is around to tell you otherwise. 

When Eddie reappears, he is surprised to see you sitting on the stool watching him work. 

“What are you still doing here?”

“Eddie, can you please talk to me?” You feel the lump in your throat start to suffocate you.

“I’m working.” Eddie lets out another sigh of frustration. 

“Ok, fine; you don’t have to talk, but will you please just listen?”

Eddie chooses to ignore you and rolls back under the car. You don’t care you’re going to talk anyway. 

“I got scared, baby.” 

The term of endearment tugged on Eddie’s heartstrings as much as he didn’t want them to. 

“I’m so scared. I’ve never felt like this before about anybody, and the thought of it being stripped away from me was too much. I don’t talk about my parents because they put me on this pedestal. I knew they wouldn’t accept you no matter how unbelievably wonderful and beautiful you are. So I panicked…” you take a deep breath to compose yourself. 

Eddie rolls out from under the hood and sits up on the creeper. 

“I’m an embarrassment then? I can’t possibly be good enough, so you strung me along all summer like a pathetic, lovesick idiot for thinking you could actually be with someone like me, so you could what?…”

“I didn’t string you along! I didn’t know this would happen between us, but I know I love you, Eddie!” You didn’t think you had any more tears left to cry, but you were wrong. Your eyes started to well. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“Please, baby, believe me, I don’t care what anyone else will think anymore! I’ll get disowned. I don’t care. I need you to understand, even if you don’t love me back.” You slip off the stool onto your knees so you’re face to face with the man you love. 

“You don’t think I love you?! You really believe that?” 

You shake your head no, ashamed to look at him.

“I hurt you; I understand that you don’t want me.” 

“You really think I could spend the whole summer with you and not fall in love?” He shook his head in disbelief. 

“What are you saying?” You want to reach out and touch him, but hold yourself back. 

“Of course I love you! I’m changing for you! I’m staying out of trouble; I got this job to get on my own two feet! To prove to you that I can be that guy!”

Not caring anymore, you launch yourself at him, connecting your lips and arms around his neck. 

Eddie couldn’t help himself. His body acting on instinct, he fell back into routine and kissed you back immediately. 

Not thinking about his dirty hands, he grabbed you by the waist, pulling you in closer until your bodies pressed up against one another. 

The moment your bodies touched, you felt like you were on fire. Everything felt so right like you were whole once again. 

Regretfully, Eddie pulled away first. 

“I’m so sorry,” you plead once more. 

“It will take some time, but I want you more than I want to be mad at you.” He cups your face and smears some grease on your cheek as he tries to wipe away the tear stain. 

“Really?”

“I love you, I never got to say it. I would tell you our last night before things blew up in our faces.” 

“I love you, Eddie.” 

A small smile creeps from his lips. 

“Oh shit, you’re so dirty.” 

“You know I like it dirty,” you can't help but smirk.

“No, no, your shirt and your,” he motions to your cheek. 

“It’s okay.” You shrug, and an awkward silence settles between you. 

“Um, so,” Eddie clears his throat.”

“Kiss me?”

“Your wish is my command, Princess.”

Your car was fixed by 9:00 p.m., and you offered Eddie a night, but he felt it was too soon to jump back into things. It stung a little, but you understood that not all was forgiven just yet. So you parted ways at the garage but saw a light at the end of the tunnel. 

~

Things between you and Eddie have been better—not great, but better. He calls you on his days off, but you haven’t fully been forgiven by him just yet. 

You haven’t spent any one-on-one time since he fixed your car two weeks ago because he’s been that slammed with essays, and you have to get ready for midterms. 

“I was down at the mechanic yesterday, and you won’t believe who is working there.” Your dad huffs. 

“Who?” Your mom replies. 

You can’t help but overhear as you study at the kitchen table. 

“The Munson boy.” 

Uh-oh. 

“Really?”

“Wouldn’t want him fixing my cars, probably mess it up even more.”

“He fixed my car two weeks ago.” You interjected. 

“What?” Your mom snapped her head to you.

Ok, guess this conversation is happening now.

“He isn’t like what people say.” 

“How exactly would you know this?” Your father squints at you suspiciously. 

“Because I worked with him all summer at camp, and I learned a lot about him.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.” You nod point blank.

“He didn’t touch you, did he?” your dad asks, and your mother scolds him for such a question. 

“I’m an adult,” you bite back.

“What are you saying y/n?” Your mom asks.

“Eddie is good, and kind, and gentle. He isn’t a devil-worshiping deviant that everyone thinks.”

“Sounds like you’re very fond of this Munson kid.” Your dad was not amused. 

“I am. I’m in love with him.” You swallow your fear. 

“Excuse me?” 

“I’m in love with Eddie. I have been for a long time, and this summer, we were together.” You breathe.

“I will not allow this!” Your father booms.

“Calm down, let’s hear her out.” Your mom was much more level-headed about this than you anticipated. 

“What?” Your father and you both look to your mom. 

“Have we not raised her to make her own choices?” 

No way your mom was on your side?

“I will not have my child tainted by that scoundrel!”

“We’ve been together all summer! Have I changed at all?! Have I not done everything by your book? I was valedictorian! I was homecoming queen! Prom queen! A cheerleader! I was on the debate team! I was on the student council! I’m in college for business! I have been the perfect child for you, and you don’t have the decency to hear me out!” 

Your father and mother were shocked. You had never spoken back to them before. 

“This is bullshit.” You walk away from your studies, grab your purse and walk out. 

You drive, you drive until you reach the trailer park on the other side of town. 

You didn’t even know what one was Eddie’s, but you were hoping that you would see his van. 

You drive down the gravel road, and you hear nothing but your heart pounding and the crunch of the rocks beneath your tires. 

You almost reach the end of the park when you take out a breath of relief when you see the van on the right side of the lot. 

You pull up and park behind it before you breathe heavily. 

Would he even want to see you? You weren’t sure but needed to see him, no matter how selfish you were. 

You tentatively give the screen door a few knocks and wait anxiously. 

A few moments pass before you hear footsteps, and a figure appears from behind the small window of the door. 

You freeze when you see the older gentleman standing on the other side of the frame. 

Shit. You woke up his uncle…. Again. 

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Munson,” you apologized before you went to go back to your car. 

Stupid, why don’t you ever think before you act? You knew his uncles would be sleeping. 

“Hold on now, are you that girl my boy has been hung up on.” 

“Uh- yea, I guess so.” You stop in your tracks. 

“The one who keeps waking me up?” He chuckles, and you physically cringe. 

“Look about that. I am so sorry, I completely forgot, didn’t realize the time-“

“It’s ok, hun. Do you want to come in? Ed isn’t home, but he should be shortly.”

“Really?”

“Please.” He waves you in, and you walk back up the porch steps and inside Eddie’s home. 

“Haven’t had a guest in a while; sorry about the mess” 

You look around, and you can’t spot the mess he’s talking about.

“Don’t worry about me.” You stand in the room awkwardly, not knowing where to go.

“Have a seat, darling,” he offers a kitchen table chair. 

“Want anything to drink? I’m making myself a coffee.” 

“Coffee is nice” 

“How do you take it?”

“Two sugars, one cream please”

“Coming right up.”

You fiddle with the hem of your sweater, not knowing what to do with your hands. Usually, you’re good at talking to people, strangers or not, but in this case, you can’t find the right words.

“I really am so-“

“If I hear you apologize one more time, I’ll ask you to wait outside.” He chuckles again. 

“Oh- sor-,” you catch yourself and just stop talking altogether. 

“So, I see why Ed is head over heels for you” 

You blush as he sets a Garfield mug in front of you.

“You think he’s really head over heels?” you air quote. 

“You have no idea. I’ve never seen him like this with anyone. Was starting to get worried.” He laughed again. He was happy Eddie was finally happy. 

“I still think he’s mad at me for what happened.” You take a sip of the sweet liquid. 

“He will get over it. He tried to hide it, but I’ve known him from the time he popped out of his mama. He is in love.”

You can’t help but feel the rush of heat travel to your cheeks again. 

“I hope so.” You sigh just as the hinges to the front door squeak. 

You both look over, and Eddie’s large frame fills the hole as he enters the living room. He’s changed out of his coveralls, but his hands and face are covered in grease.

“Princess?” He questions before a smile breaks his face. 

He hasn’t seen you since the garage. 

“Hi,” you stand up to hang him. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks surprised.

“I told my parents.” You pull back.

“You what!” You didn’t think his chocolate eyes could get any bigger. 

“I don’t want you to be a secret.” You cup his curious face in your hands.

“R-really?”

“No, baby. I love you. I want to be with you.”

“I want to be with you, too.”

“So, do you forgive me?”

“After I talked some clear sense into the boy, he’s forgiven you.” Wayne nods his head.” You forgot for a moment that you weren’t alone. 

“Shouldn’t you be hitting the road, old man?” 

“Trying to get rid of the old guy so you can have quality time together… I see how it is.” He nods solemnly. 

Your face heats up with embarrassment at the innuendo. You bury your face into Eddie’s chest to hide, and Eddie waves off his uncle to leave for his shift, and his uncle laughs menacingly as he shuts the door behind him. 

“So…” you fill the silence now that you’re finally alone for the first time in months. 

“I’m going to shower,” he jerks his thumb over his shoulder and heads to the bathroom. You know, dirt and all,” he motions down his body.

“Ya-of course! I’ll uh, I’ll wait here.” You stand in the middle of the room, trying to take up as little space as possible. 

“Relax, Princess, I’ll be right back.” he kisses your cheek before turning for the bathroom 

As Eddie showered, you couldn’t help but snoop. You saw a door at the end of the hall, and you could only assume it was Eddie’s room based on what you saw through the crack. You slowly pushed the door open and realized your assumption was correct. 

It looked exactly like you thought, and there were no surprises there. 

You investigated further to find a lion costume, and you giggled to yourself. 

“What’s so funny?” You jumped when you felt Eddie’s damp fingers graze up your arms.

“Oh my god! You scared me.” You clutch your chest. 

“Couldn’t help myself, seized the opportunity.”  He flipped you so your chests met.

His chest was bare and damp; only a towel was wrapped around his waist as he caged you in with his strong arms. 

You suddenly realized how badly you wanted him. You craved him every second you were apart, and now you’re so close you could lean in and lick his tattooed chest. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He grips your chin in his thumb and forefinger to tilt your head up to look him in the eyes. 

“Yes,” you sigh unabashedly. 

“Good. Daddy’s missed you, baby.” He whispered before leaning in to kiss you. His hands roam your body, he missed your soft skin, your breasts, your ass. 

You fight back a moan as your pussy clenches at his words. Your body is on fire; you want to do everything to please him, to make him feel good, wanted, and needed. 

Eddie’s hands made their final destination as his kiss deepened. His thick fingers slip into the pockets of your jeans and squeeze, making you roll your hips into his. 

“Need you,” you moan as you pull him in closer by the towel, making it slip.

“Oops,” you giggle innocently like that’s not exactly what you wanted. 

“Naughty girl,” Eddie chuckles darkly before he bends down and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you over to the unmade bed. 

You kiss his neck before he places you down on the mattress. A small growl leaves his lips when you lick his sweet spot. 

You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower stomach, only making your pussy weep for him. 

Weeks without his touch have been punishment enough for your trepidations. Eddie’s hands found the button of your jeans and popped it open without struggle. The sound of your zipper was so loud as you waited for his hands to touch you. You saved time by taking off your top garments, but you needed to feel him on your skin.

“You’re so ready for me already, aren’t you, Princess?” His hands cupped your pussy over your sodden panties. Eddie watches your face as his fingers played with your clit. The look on your face was what he loved most. Your eyes glazed over, your mouth agape, and he hasn’t even started. The way you submit to him made him feral. 

“Yes, daddy.” Your pussy was throbbing for him.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He stretches out like a cat as his head dips lower as his hands reach up your body to cup your breasts. 

His hands mould themselves to your tits, and his tongue licks a hot wet strip up your soaked slick, basking in your taste. 

He’s craved it ever since that day he left. He wants to devour you, to consume you until he is high off of you.

You grind your hips into his face; you can’t help it. 

“Greedy girl,” he spoke into your pussy, making you quiver beneath him. 

“Ohhh,” your back arched. Your hand gripped his long locks as you tugged them tightly. Eddie knew your body so well; it was like he was designed for you. All of your senses were ablaze, and his name fell from your lips. 

“Not allowed to cum until I say so,” he growls. He knew you were close as his fingers slipped up into your cunt. 

“W-what?” You stutter.

“You’ve been a bad girl” 

“Daddy, please,” you begged, but Eddie didn’t like how whiney you’d become. 

Before you cry at the loss of Eddie’s mouth in your cunt a sharp slap strikes your pussy. 

Your body jerks, but you like it.

“You will listen to me.” You met his gaze, and you understood he wasn’t playing around. 

“Sorry, Daddy.” You whispered. 

“What’s that? I didn’t hear you?”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say with more confidence. 

“Good girl, now give me what I want.” 

He sits up, and you follow suit. You knew he wanted your mouth; it’s the least you could do for what you put him through. 

You wanted him. Needed him, yearned for him. 

The way Eddie has you revelling for him was exactly what he wanted. To see you like this, on your knees, begging to take him in your mouth. 

“You want it so bad, don’t you, baby?” He asks as he’s laying on his back, you're between his knees. 

“Yes,” you don’t dare touch him yet, but you want to. 

“You’re going to beg for it, baby”

Now he was just being mean

“But-“

“Are you talking back to me?”

“No, Daddy.” 

“Beg.”

“Please let me touch you.” You gave him your best puppy dog eyes, even though he had you beat in that department every time. “I want you in my mouth so badly, baby; I’ve been thinking about it for weeks. I crave you.  I want it so bad, please. I want to make you feel so good, baby. I can make you feel so good if you let me.”

“Good girl. Now suck.”

Your mouth watered at the way he spoke to you. You loved how Eddie’s could get so commanding when you fucked. 

You had his cock in your mouth within the second he stopped speaking. 

You licked a long strip up the underside of his shaft that lay flat against his stomach. His cock was so hard for you it only make it all that more pleasurable, knowing he was also yearning as much as you were, if not more, even if his words didn’t show it. 

“Take it’s that’s my good girl,” he praised. 

His hands gripped your hair as he guided your mouth at his desired pace. Your saliva pooled in your mouth, creating a sensation so good that Eddie can’t help but fuck your mouth. 

You loved it, and you wanted him to use you to remind him that only you can get him this way. 

The feeling of his head almost hitting the back of your throat was exhilarating.

 Eddie knows your limits and wouldn’t push your boundaries; he can’t do that to his princess. 

Just before he’s about to cum, he pulls you off to let you breathe; his chest heaves as he waits for you to collect yourself. 

“Come here.” He beckoned you to lay parallel with him. 

Eddie takes you in a kiss that makes your world stop. A kiss that lets you know he truly does love you. The way he was so firm but so gentle, his soft lips moulded with your own. Your taste on his tongue and his taste on yours melded together as one. You roll on top of him; you want your bodies to be connected. 

“Can you fuck me now? Please?” You grind your wet pussy overtop his hard cock, threatening to slip it inside. 

“Is that what my princess wants?”

“Yes, so bad”

“I love it when you beg for it,” Eddie says, flipping you over. You let out a squeal at the unexpected movement. 

“Gonna fuck you until you beg for me to stop” he slowly guides his hard cock into your tight wet pussy. 

Your fingers grip his shoulders as he slips into you. You pull him down so his weight is fully on top of you; you need to feel close to him again. 

Eddie’s lips attach themselves to your neck, biting and sucking until the mark of possession is dark and purple. 

The consequences of having a large hickey when you get home are the last thing on your mind. The way he is making you feel trumps all.

His hips begin to pump his cock in and out of you. Finally, the sensation you’ve been yearning for is finally reality.

“Fuck yes!” You cry as his hips slap into your own, and his hand travels to your swollen clit.

“You like it when I touch you there, don’t you? Dirty girl can’t get enough of Daddy’s cock can she” 

“No, Daddy!” You cry. 

Eddie pulls up so he can watch his slick covered cock disappear inside of you with each thrust. His eyes are deranged with lust as he can’t look away. His hands gripped so tightly on your hips, moving your body to match his strokes as if you were just a fleshlight. 

“Pl-please,” you stutter as his cock hits your g spot without warning. 

“Please, what? Tell Daddy what you want” 

“I want to cum” 

The price Eddie felt that he already had you quivering under him, and it’s only been a few minutes since his cock had entered you.

“Babygirl, what’s to come already?” He mocks. 

“Yes, please,” you seethe through your teeth. 

“Not yet.” 

“I can’t hold it.” Your eyes well up; it felt so good; the pressure built up in your lower stomach was wound so tightly you were about to explode. No way you could hold off. 

Your pussy clamped on Eddie like a vice. He almost couldn’t pull out by how tight of a grip you held. 

“Oh-oh,” he stuttered. You caught him off guard. 

“You wanna be in charge, princess?” He cupped your face.

“No, I just want to cum” you continue to beg as his thrusts didn’t still. 

“Cum for me” his hand continued to curl your bundle of nerves, and you fell apart. Your feral moans filled the room as your body was washed over in a wave of euphoria. You came so hard you think you blacked out for a moment. 

“That’s it; there’s my girl; you fuckin came so good” Eddie still pumped himself into you. He didn’t want it to be over just yet. He was having so much fun playing with you. You were like his little doll. 

“Come on, baby, ride me.” He helps lift you up even though your whole body feels like jello.

“Gonna bounce on Daddy’s cock like a good little bunny,” he praises, and your pussy floods itself once more. 

When you sink down on his cock you see starts. The new angle was so much more filling than when he had you on your back.

“Oh my god,” your eyes roll back, and your jaw hands slack. Eddie seizes the opportunity to push his fingers into your mouth to suck on. 

“Such a good girl. You like all your holes filled, huh? How about this one? We are missing one.” His free hand wraps around your ass and toys with your other hole. 

“Yes,” you frantically nodded your head.

“Mmm, you’re such a slut for me, aren’t you? My little bunny. Just love to hop on this cock, huh?” He takes the fingers that were shoved in your mouth and slowly stretches you out. “That’s it, that’s my girl. Taking all of me so well. You like being so full, don’t you?”

“Yes, Daddy,” Your legs burned, but you didn’t dare stop until he came. The sound of your wet skin slapping and moans filled the empty bedroom. The only two people that exist right now are you and Eddie. Eddie’s pleasure was at the top of mind, but you were getting close to that breaking point. Your second orgasm was getting closer and closer with each pump. 

“You’re so tight, pretty baby; you gonna come again, f’me?”

You nod your head frantically as the words get caught in your throat.

“Awe, my pretty bunny can even speak, huh? You’re just sooo cock drunk for daddy’s cock, aren’t you, baby?” 

Eddie’s words only aided your impending orgasm to crash through your whole body. You collapsed down into Eddie’s body as yours quivered in excitement over his. The way your pussy clamped down on Eddie’s cock had him cuming right along with you. Eddie’s head tingled as his hot load shot up into you. He couldn’t help but jerk his hips up on instinct to make sure you took all of him. 

With a sigh of relief, Eddie hugged you closer to his body, not letting you pull off his softening cock just yet. 

You let your weight fall on Eddie as you come down from your orgasm. Eddies tattooed arms wrapped around you and pulled you in your head to his chest. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest, and your heart fell in sync with his soothing beat. 

“You okay, Princess?”

“Mmmhhhmmmmmm,” you hum as you nuzzle your head deeper into the crook of his neck. 

You could cry at how happy you were at this moment. Finally, you have everything you want wrapped in your arms. 

“Good.” he kisses the top of your head, and you both fight the urge not to fall asleep like this. 

After Eddie begrudgingly got up because he insisted you both had to clean up you both fell asleep and didn’t wake up until late in the evening. 

~

Eddie ordered you both pizza, and you fell right back into your old ways. You can’t seem to wipe the permanent smile from your face. 

Simple ‘I love you’s’ slip past each of your lips. It was disgusting to anyone who would be looking from the outside in, but you and Eddie were in your own bubble that nobody could break until you both jumped when there was a pounding on the front door.

Eddie shit up from your arms and ran to see who it is. 

“What the?” He jerks the door open, and Ash makes her way inside. 

“Dude, your parents are freaking out.” 

“What?” You sit up. 

“They called me, yelling about how you’ve lost your mind, that the Munson boy has you brainwashed and stormed out of the house.”

If you could roll your eyes any more, they would fall out of your skull. 

“I know.” She agreed. 

Eddie stood behind her nervously, biting his nails. Would you rethink everything? He couldn’t come between you and your parents. 

“They will come around; they just need to meet him; they’ll see how good he is,” you plead. 

“I don’t know, Princess.” The thought of him meeting your parents terrified him. 

You get up off the couch and walk to Eddie. You cup his face to look him in the eye, and he melts in your touch. 

“We will figure this out”

“You guys are gross.” Ash can’t help but smile. She’s so happy for both of you. 

“Thanks, babe,” you smile at her. 

“Okay, well, I know you’re okay. I’ll let your parentals know that you’re safe, and you’ll come home when they’re ready to talk to you and have calmed down.

“Thank you.”

After Ash left, you tried to get Eddie to calm down and relax. Eventually, he could do it when you slipped off the couch and sank between his legs. 

The second your tongue touched his sensitive head, he was sufficiently relaxed. And once your mouth was dripping with his cum he thinks he couldn’t be more in love with you. The thought of meeting your parents wasn’t as scary. He will do everything and anything to keep you. 

“I’ll do it.” 

“What?” You wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“I’ll meet your partners.”

“Are you sure?” 

“If I get head like that? I’ll do anything you ask of me”

You giggle softly, and he takes you in his arms. You agree that tomorrow when you go home tomorrow. 

~

With bated breath, Eddie and you walk into your childhood home, hand in hand. 

“Hello?” 

“Sweetheart! We were so worried.” Your mom rushed down the foyer hallway. 

“Mom, I’m fine.” 

Your mother spots the large and abrasive bruise on your neck. She stiffens up immediately when she also sees Eddie standing beside you. 

“I see.” 

“Mom, please.” 

“Okay. Let’s talk.”

“Where is Dad?” 

“I’m his chair.” She rolls her eyes. 

The three of you walk to the living room, where your dad is reading the paper, unbothered. 

“Dad,” you greet him.

“Nice of you to return your little tantrum faster.

“My tantrum?” You couldn’t believe how childish he had acted yesterday.

You feel Eddie’s hand tightening in yours, and you squeeze it back.

“Can we please talk?”

He tips the corner of his pepper to finally look up and realizes Eddie is in his house. 

“What is he doing here?” 

“If you won’t treat my boyfriend respectfully, we are leaving.” 

“Sweetheart, wait, we can talk about this.”  Your mom was trying to keep the peace. 

“Good.” You lead Eddie to sit on the couch, but he doesn’t follow. 

He walks over to your dad and reaches out his hand. 

“Sir, I’m Eddie.” You watch as Eddie’s hand is held out firm. 

Your dad stared back at him for a moment until you warned him.

Surprisingly, your dad took his hand and shook it, and you sighed a breath of relief.

“Hello, Edward.” You tried not to roll your eyes, but your eyes betrayed you. 

“Y/N,” your mom warns. 

“Sorry.” 

Eddie also reaches out to your mother. He hands her the bouquet of flowers he had for her.

“Thank you, Eddie.” She smiles and sets them on the coffee table as they both sit. Your parents are on one side, you and Eddie are on the other. 

“So,” your dad speaks. 

With a deep breath, you start to speak. 

“Over the summer, Eddie and I got really close, and we are together as a couple.” 

“And now what? You’re going to live happily ever after?” 

“Sir, with all due respect, your daughter can make her own choices. She has been the golden child her whole life. She respects and loves you both so much that he actually broke up with me in fear of what you both would say or do…

“ I don’t know if you noticed, but she is the best person everyone who has had the pleasure of knowing her has ever met. You and your wife have raised a wonderful person, and I am so lucky and grateful she chose me.”

“I’m doing everything in my power to make sure I live up to her standards. She is the most important person in my life, and I will treat her as she deserves. If that isn’t enough for you both, so be it, but she doesn’t need me to support her. She knows how to handle herself, and that’s all due to you guys.” 

You held back tears as you listened to Eddie speak so highly of you. It was so nice to be validated. 

“Is that right?” Your dad spoke. 

“Yes, Sir.” Eddie nods and takes your hand in his.

“That’s very honourable of you, Edward.” 

Were pigs flying? Did your dad just say something nice?

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Those are very kind things of you to say, Eddie. I’m sorry we jumped to conclusions about your intentions. 

“I understand I have a reputation; I wasn’t dealt the best hand, but I love your daughter, and she loves me. I haven’t done anything to disrespect her, and I never plan to.” 

Your parents stay silent and give one another a look. You held your breath until one of them spoke. 

“We are going to have some rules for when you come over-“ you dad starts but your mom cuts him off.

“Eddie, would you like to stay for dinner?” Your mom offered.

“Yes, I would love to, ma’am.” Eddie smiled, and so did you. 

You mouthed the words ‘thank you’ to your mom, and she gave you an assuring smile. 

“What?” 

“They are adults. Clearly, they have been safe over the summer; I'm sure they will keep it that way.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” Eddie cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable. 

Your eyes went wide, and cheeks flared up with embarrassment.

Your dad sat back with a grumble and flicked his newspaper, flustered as ever. 

“I’ll go start dinner. You kids can go; I’ll let you know when Im finished. 

“We did it!” You jumped into Eddie’s arms, and he spun you around once you entered your bedroom. 

You celebrated with a kiss, and you slipped down his body, and your feet made contact with the floor. 

“Can’t wait to show off my girl.” He cupped your face in both hands, “need to let all of Hawkins you’re mine.” 

“I’m all yours, Eddie Munson.” 

“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” 

~End~ 

tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths

@siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson

@taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie

@seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @usergeta @snowflowersstars246

@micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @ezzynf

@oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills @comeonatmebruh @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

[shiny-jr]

Dear author, I’m so sorry that someone plagiarised your work especially since you work so hard on your stories 💔😞

We want to help the plagiarised book get taken down so can you please share the link?

If enough people report, the fanfiction site admins will finally listen and take down the plagiarised book, instead of the plagiarism claim being buried.

I hope this issue gets resolved quickly and I hope you have a better day.

UPDATE! Based on this and that and also this.

Thank you, anon. I appreciate your words, but as I stated in one of my previous posts, Wattpad reports are finicky. I believe at this point, we're at day thirteen of dealing with this plagiarizer and day four of it being public and yet despite it all, the plagiarizer has still yet to budge.

So, I thought I'd give another update and give the information we discovered in our findings. As to what we know is copied and from who. Keep in mind, one of these four copies stories has already been taken down and done with. I'll specify which in a moment.

Before I proceed, if you happen to be one of the original writers mentioned in this post and you want your portion removed from this post for whatever reason, let me know. I do not want to upset anyone, except the plagiarizer. At this point in time, I care little for their feelings on the matter when they've had plenty of time to make things right.

The plagiarizer: Kristynaka1

FIRST.

Obviously, the first story that was discovered was mine, with all the information linked in the posts at the very top. I was made aware of this by the inbox from a kind reader. Ever since then, I've been dealing with this plagiarizer.

My mutuals and I found it weird that somehow, the plagiarizer had relatively good grammar with few mistakes in the story. Yet every little note or message they sent, had many spelling mistakes and was sometimes difficult to read. It was inconsistent and strange, and we couldn't make sense of it until we had a theory which some readers in the comments here have already suggested. We theorize that the plagiarizer began to use AI.

Of course, we can't prove this but how else would a user who can't format and type proper messages be able to write whole paragraphs that are actually legible and understandable?

ChatGPT was available to the public sometime in 2022. Before 2022, many of their "stories" were copy and pastes from Tumblr. After 2022, there were differences in the copied stories that made it harder to find the original story and connect it to the original writer. Differences in writing that I doubt the plagiarizer wrote themselves if we go by their messages like:

So yeah. Onto the evidence.

SECOND.

After a few days, one of my mutuals began to suggest searching for the origins of other stories as they doubted any of the posts belonged to the plagiarizer. Low and behold, we found three others. The first of which belonged to @monst and their post. Just by comparing the first paragraph was enough to confirm that.

I won't go into too much detail as the links pretty much say all you need when you actually look at the evidence.

THIRD.

Not even an hour later, we found the second copied story from that oneshot book. Thankfully, there were only two stories there, so there aren't any more copied parts from that series they claim is theirs. The original is @ppsycho and their post. This one again looks like a direct copy, even the image is the same.

FOURTH.

This is the one that was already deleted, thankfully. So there is not many good screenshots I can present, except one before it was gone. So the original writer is @mint-yooxgi and their post.

Here is the only screenshot I have of the wattpad version, just to showcase that it did in fact exist, and it was copied.

So yeah, that's everything for now. If you check out the plagiarizer's profile and recognize the other stories I did not name, please let me know. We thought we found one of them on Quotev, but it wasn't.

Please continue commenting discouragements and reporting the account!

I think I'll leave this off with something I typed last night in a chat:

In whatever way this ends, know that it will end badly for the plagiarizer. They can choose to ignore, but that won't make everything go away. People will remember, I will remember. If they go radio silent and try to forget everything but keep the stories up, comments will still be there. If they try to delete the comments, new comments will just be made. The comments will serve as warnings to others that might stumble across their account, and it will immediately make them click off the account or story because no one wants to read a plagiarized story. The account we see now will just be empty of real readers, so it will remain a miserable little place where each comment will serve as a reminder as to why plagiarism is bad.

Even if they do decide to delete and make another account yet again, whether they decide to copy the same stories they did before or pick entirely new writers to prey upon, it doesn't matter. Readers will either recognize them from before or new readers will notice the plagiarism taking place. It doesn't matter what they do. They will be found and dealt with in some way, shape, or form.

I hope those two or so years of small internet fame were worth it while they lasted.

[cartoonartistpng]

Dadphiles!Mephiles Sheet

And with that, I've completed all four of 'em!

This one definitely took the longest. I was originally content with re-using my Mobian Mephiles design, but as I developed the story more, I realized I wanted something more personal. I'm super proud of how this came out.

This is technically "spoilers" since this is toward the end (Post-Forces), but I wanted a design that reflected Mephiles/Solaris' change. And I'm too eager.

This post will be updated as time goes on. New additions will be marked as (✨New!✨).

-> Dadphiles AU Masterpost

-/-/-/-/-

🔹When Mephiles recombined with Iblis the second time, Solaris regained empathy. His memories of his time with SSS suddenly weighed heavily on the god, but the destruction of time had already begun and Solaris still was not at full power. So, with the help of the Chaos Emeralds, Solaris sacrifices himself to fix his mistakes and ensure the safety of his sons.

🔹Following the events of Sonic Forces, Solaris is re-awoken... but still very weak. As he regains power, he avoids his sons, believing they do not wish to see him. They prove him wrong.

🔹With a second chance at being their father, Solaris assumes the body of a hedgehog—meticulously designed to reflect each of his sons—and simply becomes "Mephiles the Hedgehog". As a mortal, he is much more vulnerable and limited in his power, even if he were to fully recover from his self-sacrifice. Mephiles is willing to risk such a thing for his sons' happiness and trust.

🔹As Mephiles was taken advantage of the last time he assumed a mortal form (ie. The Flame of Solaris), Mephiles is hesitant to let any others know of his identity, even the ones his children claim are trustworthy friends. Therefore, only those who were in Soleanna know the truth... for now.

🔹Mephiles is introduced to the rest of his sons' friends as their dad who raised them, but disappeared when they were kids. Mephiles admits that it was not a good decision, but explains that he was "injured" and "unable to protect them without risking their futures."

🔹Vector and Espio are the only ones suspicious of this random hedgehog that appeared out of the blue, not long after the War, looking perfectly like all three hedgehogs. Hedgehogs that they know aren't blood-related and who were separated by literal decades. However, since no one else seems to be suspicious, the Chaotix believe everyone else might be brainwashed somehow.

🔹Mephiles realizes their suspicions, but doesn't correct them. Both because he does not trust their intentions yet... and that it also amuses him.

🔹The SSS introduce Tails as their brother and Mephiles immediately accepts him and requests to take on the Prower name just as his sons have. Tails, who was worried about disapproval from his brothers' dad, may or may not have broken down in tears at the easy acceptance.

🔹Vanilla, happy to meet another parent of this rambunctious group, often enjoys sharing stories with Mephiles. Mephiles suddenly has to learn how normal mortal parents raise their children, all to continue his charade. Through her, he slowly learns what it means to truly embrace Parenthood.

🔹Vector is jealous of how friendly the hedgehog has gotten with Vanilla. Once again, Mephiles is amused.

🔹Mephiles enjoys messing with Vector, mostly by "coincidentally" appearing whenever he tries talking to SSS, gifting Vanilla different things, and saying some rather suspicious words. This, of course, makes Vector more paranoid.

🔹Despite looking like a normal hedgehog, Mephiles is composed of pure energy and therefore does not need mortal requirements. He can feign eating but it does nothing for him. He appreciates the flavor, however.

🔹As an entity of time, Mephiles is used to viewing all of time at once. As a mortal, that viewing window is smaller, but still means that sometimes Mephiles will use the wrong slang, terms, and translations or even reference something that does not exist yet or no longer exists.

🔹Mephiles is utterly focused on making the most out of this second chance and is willing to go to great lengths to protect all of his children... Even if it means using methods they may not approve of.

🔹Mephiles is the one who enabled Silver to remain in the past. He also later—by request—makes it so Shadow will age alongside his friends.

🔹Mephiles can communicate with the Master Emerald (and the Chaos Emeralds), often expressing his confusion over various mortal concepts. The Master Emerald finds his bafflement amusing, to his chagrin.

[There will be no romance as Mephiles/Solaris is completely focused on his relationships with his sons.]

[ddejavvu]

stepdad!aaron request perhaps

it’s summer and reader is in and out of the pool in the backyard and steps inside to get a drink after a while still dripping wet with a clinging bathing suit and aaron tries to act innocent like he wasn’t staring at r through the window but he can’t help it i mean he’s only a man and how easy would it be to just slide the bikini bottoms out of the way and then r catches him staring (fantasizing) and calls him out and smut follows

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

this post is 18+ (and so are its characters) and dark, minors dni. (cw: stepcest; don't like, don't read).

the plotline that you described was too long for a blurb so i just took the idea of him seeing her in her bathing suit and did what I could!

Aaron isn't paying much attention to the pool party outside, because there's work to do in the form of numerous reports on his desk. Witness reports that he needs to pair with their crimes, ME reports he needs to sign off on and tuck away into files, budget reports that he needs to stuff with receipts so that the higher-ups know that yes, they did need to stop for gas four times in Florida, the numbers aren't a mistake. His world feels like a never-ending mountain of paperwork until he hears the sliding glass door open, and he glances to his left where he sits in his office to find you sliding your wet flip-flops off onto the pavement before stepping inside.

You're dripping wet, but there's a towel over your shoulders that catches the runoff from your bathing suit. You grin sheepishly at him, muttering a quick, "Hey," as you reach for a packet of chips from the bowl on the counter.

"How's it going out there?" He asks, head suddenly grounded on his shoulders and no longer buried beneath paperwork. He leans back in his chair, all too content to see you take a seat at the barstool to munch on your snack before returning outside. You turn to face him in your chair and the cut of your bathing suit is on full display, wrapped tightly around your thighs and showcasing the droplets of water you'd missed with your towel that rest on the supple skin there.

"Jack and his friends are a handful," You glance back outside, "I wasn't even that hungry, I just needed a break from their splashing."

"I don't blame you," He chuckles, setting his pen down, work long forgotten, "Once you're an adult, splashing isn't as fun as it is irritating."

You grin at his comment, "Are you gonna get out there too, Aaron? I don't think I've ever seen you in swim trunks."

Briefly, Aaron wonders if you want to. Though he's not sure he'd look as good in trunks as you do in a bikini, so he might elect to just watch you from the sidelines.

"I don't even think I have swim trunks," He chuckles, "But I might sit out there for a while and get some sun. Garcia says I'm inside too much, and that I need a tan before I turn invisible."

"She's a smart woman," You laugh at the imagery, "Come on, Aaron, take a break and come sit in the sun with me for a bit." You stand, chips held in one hand and towel clasped in the other, "I need someone to help me reapply sunscreen, anyways, I'm not trying to get skin cancer."

He can't say no to rubbing lotion into your back.

"Alright," He stands, abandoning his paperwork and opening the sliding door for you, a hand on your back as he leads you back outside, "This bathing suit's pretty on you, honey."

You turn back to him and grin from where you're already popping the cap off of the sunscreen, chips set on the table beside the deck chairs, "I knew you'd like it. That's why I bought it, you always like me in red."

You barely give him any time to process your admission before you're turning to put your back towards him once more, holding one hand over your chest while the other tugs at your bathing suit strap to pull it out of its neat bow, "Can you re-tie it after you're done, Aaron? I can't reach."

He takes the sunscreen from you, glad you aren't facing him to watch him both blush and chub up beneath his thick jeans as he smears the sunscreen over your back and begins rubbing the substance smoothly into your skin, "Yeah, sweetheart, I'll tie it."

[lucky-lucky-duck]

Forget You, Forget-Me-Not

A continuation based on a reply to my Vaga Snapshot post that i'm writing between cram sessions. The semester ends in 2 days and I'm dying, but it's fine. c: Everything is fine. c: I'm gonna start on the matchup in a couple days when my load lightens, this is just a late night creative outlet for stress c':

Leo Kurosagi x Vagastrom Ghoul Reader (2nd person pov and gender neutral)

Leo goes too far in an argument, and I'll fill this out tomorrow. For now, it's sad. Reader nearly gives up on braking the curse causing the people around them to slowly forget they exist. Fuck I'm tired

Morning edit - I fixed a couple of spelling mistakes, but the description made me laugh so it stays. I'm still fucking tired.

"I'm passing the phone to a No-Name NPC who is so unremarkable that the faculty evaluators actually forgot they existed."

You're ignoring him. It's been four days, and you've barely said a word to anyone, but everyone knows that Leo is somehow the culprit.

It doesn't really matter, you think with dull amusement. Sho and Alan had both been out at the time; the only witnesses to your humiliation were you, Leo, and the general students. Leo's too busy trying to bait you into argument to gloat about his win to the others, and you aren't about to tell them yourself.

The general students are a non-issue, too. Most of them struggle to remember your name most days, they're not about to suddenly start remembering gossip about you.

The thing is, you've had fights with Leo before. Hell, fighting with Leo has something of a hobby to you once you started sharing a living space with him. There's just something about him that brings out the worst in you. The vicious snake-like part, that coils up with anticipation and prepares to strike when you see Leo enter the room. You used to think of it as something that you both secretly look forward to, once the vitriol died down and your metaphorical fight-to-the-death turned into elementary-school bullying.

He's never brought up your curse like that before. It's been tit-for-tat, both of you giving just as good as you get. It's supposed to be fun.

You squash the pang of longing in your chest with snarled anger, only to be drenched in an icy kind of apathy. There are lines both of you choose not to cross these days (you were under that impression at the time, at least.), and the waning acknowledgment of your existence had definitely been one of them. Christ, you didn't exactly pour salt onto Leo's obvious abandonment wounds during these fights, did you?

"What did Leo do to you?" Sho's voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

"Nothing, why do you ask?" Your voice scrapes lifelessly as you meet his eyes with a small, strained grin.

"Really? Then what, you've been moping around the dorms the past few days because you enjoy the smell of sweat and motor oil?"

"You know me, can't get enough of the ol' sugar and spice." The attempted banner falls flat as you make to slip around him and head for your dorm at the end of the hall, only to be held in place with a single strong hand on your wrist. "You ever tried shake weights?"

"Stop," he shuts down your distraction. "You know he's a rat bastard, right? You can't take what he says personally. We're going to find a way to break the curse."

So, Leo told Sho what happened after all, has he?

Sho's words slow to a stop when he notices the dead-eyes and scowl that have overtaken your forceful nonchalance from earlier.

"I wasn't lying, I'm not angry at Leo for what he said to me," Apart from the fact that you kind of are. "He wasn't exactly wrong."

"Shut up already!" You don't turn your head to look at Leo as he appears in the corridor. Figures he would listen in on a private conversation. It's probably him who sent Sho to find you in the first place. Bastards.

In the end, the choice is made for you, and a new set of hands grip your shoulders, yanking you face-to-face with the person you wanted to see least.

"Are you telling me I've been wasting my time on someone this fucking pathetic?" The words would hurt more if the expression on Leo's face were less desperate. If anyone looks pathetic here, it's him. "Of course. You would be willing to sit back and watch as you sink into irrelevance, wouldn't you? If that's what you want, fine." It's funny how adept you've become at interpreting Leo's mannerisms after all of the fighting.

For all of the accusations and insults, the only thing you see in front of you is a hissing kitty cat desperately trying to make amends in the only way it knows how. It's a shit apology, but... Leo isn't the type to put on this type of fit unless he feels threatened and cornered, and, as far as you are aware, the only threat being posed at the moment is you walking away from him.

Your bar sure has sunk low these days, yikes.

"That would probably hurt more if you weren't still gripping my shoulders like we're in a steamy novel. Do you have fantasies of pinning me down often?" You're promptly shoved away and insulted once more, free to turn back and walk back toward your dorm without sparing either boy behind you a glance.

As you prepare yourself for bed, you notice the ache in your chest loosening just enough to let you breath deeply. If just for tonight, you'll fall asleep free from the fear that tomorrow will be the day you finally wake up as a stranger.

[tkaulitzlvr]

THE WRONG WAY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: tom hasn’t been paying you enough attention lately, and, when you finally snap, he can’t understand where you are coming from, until you reach your breaking point. can the issues between you and him be resolved?

content: angst

a/n: pulled this out of my ass lol, i had to rush it because i’m in the middle of another req but it’s nowhere near done after like three hours of writing so i’ll have to finish and post it tomorrow. sorry if there are mistakes, i only proofread veryyy briefly cause i’m so tired rn😭 hope this is okay tho!!

"you don't love me."

i voice the harsh words to the silent room, clearly and with every sense of belief behind my statement. to my discomfort, saying it out loud does not make me feel any more at ease, in fact seeing the way tom’s entire body breaks for a second, processing what i had just said, before trying to cover the hurt on his face up, only suffocates me even more. the lump in my throat only gets bigger, the tension in the air thickening by the second.

"wow." he begins, shaking his head, trying to wrap his head around how i could even come to that conclusion. "that’s an awful accusation." he glances at me, his eyes already glossy, giving me enough of an idea on how much i have hurt him by uttering those four words. however i stick to it, figuring that it is too late to back out now. within me, behind all the anger, all the upset, i feel that it is true. i sense that he no longer feels the same way he did when he met me, all those years ago, the love within his eyes slowly diminishing until it is now long gone.

"and also." he speaks, leaning forward and looking directly into my eyes, staying in his position spread on the end of the other couch. "it's not true. you know it isn't."

the pressure of his gaze leaves me unable to hold eye contact with him, looking away sheepishly into my lap, hoping that somehow the ground could swallow me up. i grit my teeth, locking my jaw in anger, feeling no reassurance from his quick denial of my statement. so i decide to challenge him, standing my ground despite the nausea only growing within me. though his voice seems somewhat certain, i refuse to believe that i am making it up, that it is all in my head. "do i though tom?"

my eyes meet his, except the ones looking into me are foreign. they are angry, a glint of hostility present within them that i had not yet witnessed, this change taking me aback, yet i refuse to look away. he is sad. those eyes, past the resentment in them, i see pain. i see sorrow. i have upset him, far beyond what he intends to let out. he is usually strong, and perhaps right now he thinks that he is keeping this up, yet i can read him like a book, the way his left brow furrows, creating a crease along his forehead, the way his eyes cannot focus on one thing, darting around the room, i can see that he is struggling. and whilst part of me hurts with him, hating to put him through any sort of distress, i need it right now. because i am tired of feeling unloved and unappreciated - regardless of whether tom intends to make me feel this way or not.

he shakes his head, scoffing slightly in disbelief, letting out a shaky sigh, before speaking up, his voice loud, in contrast to the silent room. "what, so i've been lying every single time i’ve told you that i love you, over the past six years that we've been together? mind you, i say that every day, without fail."

i stay silent, my eyes becoming glossy as they quickly tear away from his. he takes my silence as a cue to continue, my sudden belief that he does not love me angering him as he desperately seeks to remind me of every reason why i am in the wrong. "don't i do everything for you? make sure that you're always safe, give you my everything-"

"give me your money, you mean." i reply, cutting him off. i don’t want to seem ungrateful - i appreciate the way tom would spend any amount of money on me if it made me happy. i am thankful for the house he has given me, the vacations he takes me on, the things he buys me, but those things are not the reasons why i fell in love with him. i fell for tom kaulitz. not his money, not his fame, not his profession. i fell for who he is, for him as a person, whether he is rich or poor, yet it feels that day by day i lose a small part of that. i have always understood that his job means that he will be away a lot, but it is hard to be in a relationship with someone that can't always be there, only their fortunes can.

"i’m grateful for what you do for me, really i am, but i'd much rather have time with you than the latest gucci bag, or the newest chanel perfume. if it meant that i would have to live with nothing for the rest of my life, i would do it. don't you understand? i want you - not your money tom! i don't need you to apologise with gifts when i don’t see you all day, i just...i need you." i am desperate, craving for him to hear me out, to understand that it is him that i need, but the way he looks at me in confusion shows me that i am not going to achieve that.

"i thought you liked the things i buy for you. have you been lying?" he completely ignores the point that i have been trying to make, this only fuelling the frustration within me as i exhale shakily, quickly grasping onto the opportunity to argue my point once again.

"i do but that's not the point tom! i like them because i feel like it's all i get from you!" my voice is raising, something which i did not want to happen. shouting never solves the problem, however right now i am far too angry to care. "i just want some of your time, to feel like you actually care! when you're with me, you're here physically, but your mind is always elsewhere. i just miss you. i need to you be mine again, i-"

"look, i’m sorry okay?" he begins, harshly cutting me off and matching the volume in my voice. "i'm sorry that my job is more demanding than others, i’m sorry that it needs a lot of my attention, but i told you this from the beginning. my career is a big part of who i am and things aren't always easy. they get hard, they get tough, but-"

"that's my problem! when things get hard for you, i don't fucking know about it! because you shut me out, every. single. time. i'm your girlfriend, tom. i want to know about your life, i want to help you, but you always run away from me! you spoil me with gifts and money to compensate for every fucking time you leave me in the dark! i don't want it anymore. i just want you to communicate!" i move from the couch, walking to the middle of the room and standing a few feet away from him. his eyes are glued to me, watching my every step, and he is listening to me this time. "am i such a headache to be around, that you can't talk to me? that you can't deal with spending time with me, so instead you spend your money to try and shut me up, because you have so much that no matter what you buy, it doesn't affect you?"

"don't." he voices shakily as i stare into his eyes, his expression more wounded than ever. my words stab into him, hitting him harder than i had anticipated. his fists clench against his thighs, holding every ounce of frustration. though we have argued in the past, i have never seen him this upset, regardless of whether he intends to show it visibly or not. "you know that i don't think of you that way, even for a second. so stop."

"you can't blame me for thinking it tom." i shrug. "you leave me out of everything, i have no idea what's going on in your life anymore-"

“because i'm trying to fucking protect you!" he interrupts, raising his voice once again. his hand slams against the arm of the couch, the sudden contact causing me to wince slightly. "i'm sorry if you feel like i'm hiding things from you. but i know parts of my life would just stress you out and hurt you. don't you get that? i'm trying to save you from the pain-"

"i want the fucking pain!" i fire back. "we are supposed to be in a relationship. do you know what that means? i want to suffer with you. i would choose that, a million times over, if it meant that i could be with you for another day. i want every part of you, the sad, the happy, the angry, i want it all. can't you see that i need you? i hate being left in the dark. i absolutely fucking hate it.”

my voice pierces through his ears, diminishing the tense silence as tom gulps, clenching his jaw and leaning forwards, pinching his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. the rash and quick responses don’t allow me time to calm down, my eyes becoming glossy with tears, the salty liquid staining my cheeks before i can try to hold them back, my weakness just as evident as tom’s. the pain, the upset, the lack of affection that have been feeling all spills out, reeling outwards from within me as i let it out, no longer attempting to hold back.

he looks up, his face softening as he takes in my hurt expression. he has never seen me like this, so broken, and the fact that he is the cause of this pains him even more, his mind coming to the slow realisation that it is up to him to fix this. although he doesn’t fully understand how i could possibly believe that he does not love me, he wants to try, to try and see from my eyes. he lets out a shaky sigh, swallowing nervously before looking into my eyes.

"i would rather feel the sadness, suffer with you." i begin, my voice small as the tears quickly take away my physical strength. "i would do absolutely anything if it means that you will love me, that you will do it with me, tom."

"i don't live a normal life, and i just want to keep you away from the crazy things." he speaks slowly, trying to reason with me, refusing to turn his gaze away from mine. "some people want to hurt me, and i would never forgive myself if someone ever did anything to harm you."

i try to wipe my tears and calm my breathing, wrapping my arms around my small frame in an attempt to comfort myself, quickly becoming overwhelmed with the situation. but my mind acknowledges tom’s change in tone. not only is he more gentle and calm, he also seems sorry, like he now recognises where he went wrong.

"what do you want me to do?" he whispers, defeated as his tired eyes meet mine. he is no longer angry. he is desperate, longing to resolve this. "i'll do anything. i- i can't lose you. you're my world, schatz, and i'm sorry if i haven't shown it, but you are everything to me."

though there are millions of things i could say, i stay silent, standing still across the room. my heart clenches painfully, hurting at the sight of him so distraught, as his mind considers the dreaded idea of what losing me would be like. his world is crumbling before him, the one thing he seeks to protect seeming to slip through his fingers. i have never seen him like this, so vulnerable, so desperate, and whilst it comforts me to know that he is slowly letting down the walls that have prevented me from truly being with him, it saddens me to see him in such a distraught state.

"all i've ever wanted is to keep you safe. to keep you happy, liebe, because if you're happy then so am i. but you deserve more than this." he points to himself angrily, letting out a shaky sigh. "more than this fucking idiot, who doesn't even know how to love. i’m so sorry if i've done it the wrong way and made you feel like i don't care. because you shouldn't for a second think that i don't love you."

everything that i have been craving to see is happening in front of me. i have longed to see him open up, to break down the barriers that separate us both physically and mentally. i don’t want him to be strong all the time, and it hurts that he feels he has to be. the tears fall from my bloodshot eyes once again - this time out of sadness for him. i hurt with him, hating to see him so upset, but i understand his pain, his anger, and i feel every emotion along with him. for the first time in forever, i feel connected with him.

after a few moments of silence, he stands up, slowly walking towards me. i refuse to meet his gaze, fearing that i will break down once again i realise how hurt he truly is, and looking into his eyes will certainly display every emotion amongst his beautiful features. his hand brushes tenderly against my cheek, wiping a fresh tear that had fallen. he reaches towards my chin, using his pointer finger to angle my face upwards so it meets with his eyes. he towers over me, taking in the sorrow etched upon my face, before tucking the loose strands of hair behind my ears, gently caressing my cheek with his lips slightly parted, shaky breaths escaping from them.

"please, look at me." he whispers, gazing longingly into my eyes. i comply, shifting my own eyes to the deep brown ones in front of me. they are full of adoration, and i feel the man that i fell in love with slowly coming back to me. "i love you, so so much, please believe me schatz. you are the most important person in my life, and i am so sorry that i've made you feel the opposite way." he chokes up, his voice shaky as i can tell he is on the verge of tears.

i listen to him, allowing every word to sink in, as it is now no longer hard to trust what he says. i feel what i have been desperate to - love. i feel truly appreciated, like i am able to confide in him like i once could. though frustrated it took the both of us to get to this state to make him speak his mind, i appreciate him opening up, his apology making up for the lost time. there is no shame in being fragile, and through his entire conversation, we have both learned this, a new found appreciation for each other gained as i feel safe again.

"don't feel like you have to keep things to yourself. i’m your girlfriend, i'm supposed to be here for you, and i'll gladly do it, but you have to talk to me." i respond, lacing my hand with his. a soft smile spreads across his face, contrasting with his bloodshot eyes whilst he slowly nods.

"i hear you. i’m so sorry baby. i love you." he whispers, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands lace together around my waist. he lets out a sob onto my shoulder, my heart breaking at the sound. he clutches onto me tighter as if i may slip away, my own eyes tearing up once again. it has been a while since i felt like this. i feel loved, and it is all that i have ever wanted from the start.

he slowly pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and looking into my eyes through his eyelashes. after a few seconds, he leans inwards, until his lips touch mine. the kiss is gentle, carrying every promise to love and cherish me like he has failed to do, and i gladly accept it, kissing back quickly and wrapping my arms around his neck. he pulls away, planting a few pecks on my lips once again, his breath shaky as the remnants of tears stick to his cheeks. i slowly wipe them away, not breaking eye contact as i do so, gently caressing the soft skin until any trace of sadness is lost within our newfound love for each other.

a soft smile graces his lips, failing to wither as he kisses me once again, the same amount of passion as the last, making up for the lost affection as i feel more treasured than ever. this is all I have ever wanted, to feel like he cares, and now that i am feeling his affection, my mind is oozing with contentment, the feeling almost foreign it has been so long.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[king-mera]

what are your thoughts on frozen empire? What are its failures?

Oy Vey…

I've already ranted my thoughts both in posts and in private, so what can I say that hasn't already been said? I'll just try to summarize my main gripes.

The cast is bloated with too many characters and none of them have enough screentime to properly showcase or develop their personalities. It's honestly a shame too, because Afterlife set up Phoebe, Trevor, Lucky, and Podcast as the new main four Ghostbusters to parallel to the OGs, who could be their mentors. Instead we got the Spengler family, along with Nadim, and lars. It's not as tight and focus as it should be, in my opinion. I don't hate Lars, but his inclusion bothers me in particular because his role could easily be filled by other characters. I don't know why he's being pushed as "the new Egon" either when Phoebe was already shown to have so much in common with him.

Speaking of Phoebe, what the Hell were the writers trying to do with her? In her first appearance she was funny, clever, and brave. She had a temper sure, but only when she was pushed to her breaking point. She also knew how to be a team player, working with her friends and family to prevent the apocalypse. In just her second appearance, suddenly she's snapping at her parents, recklessly causing damage, arrogantly taking all credit for saving the world, and preferring the company of a ghostly stranger over people. Disturbingly enough, she develops a morbid fascination with becoming a ghost herself. Where did this come from? She behaves more like Rowan North from the 2016 film. What happened to the determined young girl who stood up to the god of destruction and refused to die? Now she's locking herself into a metal box and painfully electrocuting herself in a scene that resembles self-harm or suicide. All this to separate her soul from her body just to be closer to this girl she's hinted to have a crush on.

Phoebe never needed a love interest of any gender, explicit or implied. It doesn't serve her story when there were so many other interesting things about her that could've been explored instead. How does she live up to the legacy of her grandfather? Is she worried about repeating his mistakes? Does she struggle to be taken seriously as a child doing an adult's job? There were already two other romantic subplots that deserved focus anyway: Callie with Gary and Trevor with Lucky. Adding a third one at this point just comes out of nowhere. Not to mention all the other elements of Phoebe and Melody's relationship that make it weird, like the age gap between the actors or the fact that melody is DEAD. Even if you ignore the flirty undertones and interpret their interactions as platonic, it's still a toxic situation because Melody is only manipulating Phoebe to release the real villain Garakka.

Garakka fails to impress me, too. He has little in the way of personality or motive. His visual design has a striking silhouette at first glance, but it's rather plain compared to other ghosts in the series. There’s nothing about him that suggests the culture he’s from (what was a frost giant/lich doing in India?). I don't understand why they make such a big deal out of his horns either, they're the source of his power yet he's able to do things without them. The horns are also conveniently locked in the same room as his orb, so he's able to quickly retrieve them. They might as well have stayed stuck on his head the whole time! What's so scary about this guy anyway? He's cold, naked, and skinny. That's not scary, it's just me stepping out of the shower.

Well, I guess Garakka deserves some credit for killing that random store clerk. The only on-screen kill in GB film besides Shandor in the last movie, and it’s some poor innocent bystander. Normally I wouldn’t mind such a thing, but it sucks that Phoebe and Nadim are indirectly responsible for this dude’s death through their irresponsibility. All the characters seem incompetent here. The Firehouse and the new lab don’t have adequate safety measures, and apparently Egon never thought to plan ahead for if the containment unit got full. That last point is a non-issue that just wastes time since the lab has backup units and Garakka breaks the main one from the outside anyway.

There are several moments that come across as mean-spirited and cynical, from Podcast crushing the old lady’s watch (that belonged to her late husband) to Lucky and Trevor cracking sex jokes about Nadim’s dead Grandmother. I complain about Phoebe’s attitude, but it’s not like she has a good support network. Her parents are dismissive of her and Ray doesn’t ask her what’s wrong when she asks if he ever wondered what it’s like to be a ghost.

We get a happy ending when Garakka is trapped and Melody crosses over, but it rings hollow when nobody acted as they should. They only acted how the convoluted plot demanded them to.

Oh and those mini-pufts, how I despise them. They were fine in Afterlife but now they’ve overstayed their welcome and become the new minions.

This whole movie feels like a bad dream and as far as I'm concerned, it's not canon.

[callmejod]

Yey! I love him so much but there is so little for him! Could you do a headcanon for him falling in love again (reciprocated) post potc please- if we pretend he didn't die. Pretty please.

Hohohohohohohoho this was also on my mind for a few weeks

Had to mill it over the last few days, sorry for not responding. I also wrote this for an entire day so I hope you like it.

Kinda oc reader, foreign!reader, James being down bad for the reader , reader being too good to be true

This got really long so bare with me

I don't know if I'm even able to write short fics

So the jist is :

If he didn't die and came back to Port Royal as Admiral Norrgington - he would be happy he got his career, his honor and his purpose back.

Living on the sea has changed him. He no longer could stand this uptight, fake world that Port Royal thrives in. The cravats, the paperwork, the wigs. Fuck, he couldn't breathe most of the time, always sweaty in the thousand-layer suits, head itching from both the powder and the weigt of his hats. Having to sit through those god awful formal dinners, balls that bring nothing but superficial gossip was nothing but pure torture. Don't get me wrong - he's grateful for being able to even attend them, but the honest, freeing way of pirate life has broken him out of the cage of chaperoned conversations with ladies and standoffish men making fools out of themselves. He remembers the joyous dancing, full of fluidity and life, now having to endure stiff, distant and "civilised" english dancing.

One day, while having a conversation with one of the Ports ministers he hears about a merchant who's come from afar. He knows of your stay at Jamaica. He had a few documents regarding your long stay brought to his office to sign. Your ship suffered damage in a run-in with pirates and had a lot of repairs to do. A gorgeous vessel. He wonders if the captain is as handsome as their ship. Hopes he gets to meet you before you leave. You only arrived four days ago, and already the talk of the ton. Impressive.

The men described you as lively, wild as a tropical storm. The ministers complained about your accent, your way of dressing, your carefreeness, anything they can put a pin in, they do. James feels quite uncomfortable listening to the convesation not being able to put in anything. He then sets his mind to finding out who you are - he has grown out of judging a person by word from another mouth.

That encounter came earlier than he expected. And to be frank - saved him from a horrible stack of particularily boring paperwork. Having you barge in full-force into his office steaming mad, followed by two petrified soldiers was not something on his agenda. He noticed the few things the ministers mentioned - clothes of unusual cut and style, quite tasteful if his opinion was concerned, hair and hairstyle so different from locals that there was no mistaking you. You were the eccentric foreigner. But fawning over your beauty was for another time - now he had an angry merchant going off about something he both didn't listen to for a while and frankly, couldn't really understand due to your speed of speech.

'S-sorry could you slow down a second. I'm afraid I'm loosing some of what you're saying."

'Sir they need to make an appoin-'

'It's fine gentlemen, this must be urgent if I am needed. Please, let us speak in private.'

After the guards step out, he offers you to sit and something to drink.

'I have no need for no courtesy Admiral. I need a problem fixed. You can skip this stupid charade.'

'Oh, then it is more serious than I've thought. What is the problem?'

'Those - those'

You wave your hand in the air to make him help you find a word.

'Minosters of yours'

'Ministers?'

'Yes! Those idiots. They won't let me handle my own ship the way it needs to be. It needs to be seen by - argh!'

Your frustration runs high. He smiles.

'There's no need to stress. You mean carpenters? Is there a problem with the wood of your ship?'

'Are those who work with wood?'

'Yes, so you need to hire carpenters and the dock officials won't let you? That is strange. You have registered your stay and gave us all the documents we need.'

'But they don't!!'

You grab his forearm and try dragging him out of the office. He slows you down and explains that he will talk to them, just let him take a few things. You scoff and cross your arms.

'You English and your weird rules. Wasting time and not helping.'

He couldn't agree with you more. He smiles and starts walking out. When you two make your way to the port, he has difficulty keeping his pace with you - passersby stare at you storming off to port with their Admiral desperately trying to keep up with you. You sometimes mumble curses in languages he does not ever try to understand, but you two make your way faster than he realised was possible.

There you stomp to an official, who not seeing James trailing behond you shouts:

'Ow piss of ya cunt! I won't let you disgrace our carpenters by working on a ship that carries your kind!'

James is stunned you don't rip his head off when he sees your fists clench by your sides. Anger nips at his mind, how dare he treat you like this?! When slows his pace and asks in a flat voice:

'What do you mean "their kind"? Is that how my officials treat esteemed, foreign guests? And how dare you use such language to a person that was only looking for your help.'

The man's face whites and he starts to stutter an apology, but James stops it and sends him to get carpenters. Admiral's orders. When the official slips away to fill his duty, James turns to you and starts profusely apologising for the incompetence of his subordinates.

He's horrified when you inform him, that this is not the first - ha!, only time of being mistreated because of your looks or manner of speech. Anger boils in him when he hears that not only you, but majority of your crew had to endure this for a while now, accomodation denied not by matter of the lack of, but prejudice. Before he even thinks, he immedeately offers you a place in his home - something that brings surprise to you both. He cannot stand the thought you had to sleep on your ship when there was far grater comforts available.

He flushes red and again apologises for being inappropraite, but gets cut off by your boisterous laughter. The sound hypnotises him, seeing you smile for the first time makes his heart bang on his ribs. You laugh so hard tears come to you eyes and a shortness of breath. He cares not that many are looking at you two or the impropriatey of the situation. Time freezes for him. There's only you and him.

'Oh admiral, you are funny. I cannot leave my men to sleep on the ship when I am given all comforts of life.'

James flushes again and meekly asks:

'Then would you accept a simple dinner as an apology for your mistreatement?'

He almost doubles over when you beam at him and accept. The way you look at him so amused - he would make the biggest fool out of himself just to keep that look in your eyes. You set a date for a few weeks later and James makes sure that your your crew is not being mistreated anymore than they already have. Of course, Gilette and Groves relentlessly teased him for his obvious affection towards you. They weren't surprised though, it was hard not to even tolerate you.

Over those few weeks he started to watch you closely. Both of you were invited for a few balls, and the conversations you two had were the most fulfilling he had in a long long time. Your knowledge of the sea, of literature, politics and history had impressed him and added a new dimention to your person - not only beautiful, but wise.

He saw you many times playing with children on the street, helping people in need, play-fighting with young boys, showing them your battle scars and sometimes even your handpistol or sword.

You brought an air of freshness to the stuffy, ever "proper" society of Port Royal. You smiled often, you were polite to those who deserved it, made an effort to not be a bother. Yet, you never hesitated to get you crew in line when they were causing a ruckus.

Your manner of speech was charming, that certain twang to english and he would be a liar if he denied finding your way of trying to remember words or coming up with new ones when you couldn't was not adorable. Talking with using your hands was also a thing he found endearing. He would deny it to his grave in front of you, die of embarrasment if you knew. He heard that you got into a heated conversation with your first officer, and while talking with using your hands smacked a passing lady in the face. Apologised a lot and brought her an apology gift in form of a few yards of stunning blue silk. The dress she had comissioned to be made of it was breathtaking. But nothing could ever compare to your beauty.

All this was just pulling him into your direction. And when the awaited evening came, James was so nervous about everithing being perfect. You were perfect so your expectations were not to be let down. But, you being you, as if feeling his nervousness arrived early and instead of courtsies and stiff welcomes hugged him like a family member long missed.

As the dinner went on, your conversation flowed over many topics, never ending, never boring. You moved to the sitting room, where to James' torture you sprawled yourself over a love seat and rested. He sat, watching you strech like cat, admiring you quietly. You made eye contact with him and asked :

'James, would you like me to court you?'

He choked on his spit. In a coughing attack, he flushed so red, you jumped to your feet and held his shoulder to try and help. After a while of hacking and a visit from a concerned maid, he stopped and looked at you, not knowing what to say. He saw the unceirtainty in your eyes, even hurt.

'Do you not wish me to court you, James?'

His eyes widened. After years of endlessly chasing Elizabeth's affection, you being so open about it shocked him. He knew he harboured feelings for you but never imagined that feeling would be reciprocated. He took your hands and squeezed them.

'I was just cuaght off guard, dear don't worry. It's standard for men here to ask someone to court.'

'So I'm supposed to wait forever? You have been open with your feelings, but I am an impatient person James. I do not make games.'

'Play games?'

'Is that how you say it?"

James chuckled an held a hand to your face. That prompted you to surge forward and kiss him. For a second, he froze in surprise but leaned into you, sighing into the kiss. You threw your arms over his shoulders and he moaned.

That made you break apart from him and look into the sea green of his eyes. Your warm breath fanned his face, heating it impossibly more. You seemed lost in them and made him nervous that he did something wrong. Seeing his concern, you locked your lips again in a gentle kiss. God, he never wanted it to end. He smiled into the kiss, making you giggle. You two broke apart and looked at each other.

James then spoke :

'I would very much like you to court me, if you let me do the same.'

'Finally making some sense, James.'