#and as for the updates thing i personally am a-okay with it (as long as it's like. not excessively demanding lol)

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART FOUR

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 3.6K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, cussing, weapons (pew-pew), weapon caused injury (non-fatal), reader being a little self deprecating, insinuated crime

A/N ✦ this one is a long one! hope you enjoy! (added a little bit of a somewhat bucky POV for once as well)

PART THREE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

Time seemed to speed by and next thing you knew it was the day of your date. Nerves riddled your stomach. 

You weren’t the most experienced in the world of dating. It embarrassed you to no end thinking about how you had only ever had one boyfriend. The ex in question and you having only dated for less than a year. 

You rubbed your eyes and peeled yourself out of bed, trying to shake the thoughts from your mind. After brushing your teeth and doing your skincare, you exited your room, heading to the kitchen.

Nat leaned up against the kitchen island, a small checkered plate was in her hand, a piece of banana bread sat on top of the dish.

“I already cut you a slice.”, she nodded her head towards the plate she had made for you.

“Thanks.”

The two of you ate in silence, enjoying the peace and quiet. 

“Nat,” you started, “What if he ends up not liking me?”

She shot you a dirty look.

“Quit thinking like that.”, she straightened up, walked over to you and put her hands on your shoulders, “Anyways if things don’t end up going well that’s his loss, you’re beautiful, and one of the kindest people I know.”

You smiled up at your friend, embracing her in a hug.

As she hugged you back Nat said, “Okay we have two hours until seven. Let’s go get you put together.”

She took you by the hand, dragging you to your room.

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

Bucky Barnes was also wracked with nerves at the thought of your date. He leaned back in his office chair, one of his forearms thrown over his eyes.

“Buck, you’ve gotta relax.”, Steve chuckled at his best friend, “She’s just a girl, you’ve gone out with plenty of them, you’ll be fine.”

Bucky removed his arm from his eyes, sitting back upright in his seat. 

“Yeah but I wasn’t going out with those girls to date them.”

“Fair enough.”

“Look Steve, you’re just as aware as I am that most women don’t go for us for our personalities.”, Bucky shook his head, “I’m tired of being minimized to a checkbook or a pretty face. I want to find someone that I emotionally connect with, someone I want to do the little things in life with.”

Steve nodded at his best friend, staying silent to let him continue.

“I don’t know man, there’s just something about Y/N that just draws me to her. She’s beyond beautiful and I like that she seems to be the complete opposite of our world.,” Bucky pointed back and forth between him and Steve.

“Speaking of that, I was going to ask, how do you plan on telling her about your career.”, he used air quotes as he said career, raising his eyebrows at his friend. 

“I don’t know Steve, it’ll probably scare her half to death and she’ll want nothing to do with me.”, Bucky put his head in his hands, “How the fuck are you supposed to casually tell a girl, I’m the head of one of the oldest, and biggest mafia families in the city.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹

You looked yourself up and down for what had to be the twentieth time, feeling absolutely gorgeous. The dress you had picked was a dark midnight blue, with flowing bell sleeves. The hem of the dress reached right above your feet, a thigh high slit going up the left side of the garment. You wore glittering silver heels on your feet and silver jewelry adorned your ears to match. 

You had done your makeup, eyeliner and a dark plum colored lip. Nat helped with your hair, which was now pulled half up-half down. A small bow matching the color of your dress was wrapped around the pulled up portion of hair. 

Looking at the time on your phone you saw it was six fifty-one. In nine minutes Bucky would be gracing your front door, and your stomach immediately dropped at the realization. 

“Oh my God Nat I can’t-”

“Y/N, I’m not gonna listen to any bullshit about how you can’t because you’re too scared you’re gonna fuck something up.”, Nat cut you off, “Let go of all those negative thoughts and allow yourself to enjoy your night, you owe it to yourself.”

Your eyes welled up with tears.

“And don’t you dare start crying, you just did your makeup.”

You chuckled a little, trying to blink away the tears and fanning your eyes.

“Okay, okay no crying.”, you said, “I appreciate you Nat, I’m so lucky to call you my best friend.”

Nat pulled you in for a hug. Your moment however was interrupted by a knock at your front door. Grinning at you Nat shoved you in the direction of the entryway.

“You’ve got this!”, she said as she ducked down the hallway to avoid being seen.

You took a deep breath, smoothed down the front of your dress, and turned to the door. When you opened it Bucky stood in front of you; he wore a tailored black suit, a crisp white dress shirt sat underneath his jacket, and a forest green tie wrapped around his neck. He wore the same watch and rings he’d had on the two times you had seen him. 

“You look wow.”, Bucky said as he looked you up and down.

You blushed and thanked him.

“You look wow too.”, you stuttered out.

Bucky gleamed down at you, finding you adorable.

“Thank you. You ready to head out?”

You nodded your head, “Yeah I’m ready, let’s go.”

Pulling the door shut behind you, you locked it, and followed after Bucky. Once you made it outside, he approached a sleek black car, walking around to the passenger side, he opened the door for you. 

“Thank you.”, you said, holding onto his hand that he had extended to you, helping you lower yourself into the older Mustang.

He gently closed the door as soon as you were situated, coming back around the car to the drivers side, and getting in. The keys turned in the ignition, the car drumming to life, and the radio softly played a local station. Bucky shifted the car into drive and pulled away from your apartment, heading down the street.

The two of you drove in silence for a while, both of you almost too scared to talk. Almost. 

“How has your week been so far?”, Bucky asked, glancing over at you with a small smile on his lips.

Feeling your nerves slowly start to dissipate, you filled Bucky in on the absolutely wild interaction you had the day before at work; an older woman had come in and cut the entire line of people who had already been waiting to order, stating that because her grandson was supposedly Tik-Tok famous, she deserves special treatment. From there the two of you easily chatted back and forth, until you pulled up outside of your destination. 

The restaurant sat in the middle of a row of shops and other businesses. A decorative hanging sign sticking out from the restaurant wall read The Iron Man.

One of the valet boys hurried to the driver's side door, opening it for Bucky, greeting him, “It’s nice to see you again Mr. Barnes.”

He politely greeted the boy in return, moving around his car and opening the door for you, extending his hand once again to help you out of it. 

“This place is owned by a very close friend of mine.”, Bucky explained as the two of you approached the front doors.

Once inside your eyes looked around, absolutely in awe. Fairy lights twinkled around the dark restaurant, the curved booths were wrapped in a soft floral fabric, tables covered with perfectly bleached coverings, and a small vase of red flowers sat in the middle of each of them. 

“It’s so pretty in here.”, you said.

“I hoped you would like it, I figured this seemed like your vibe.”

Bucky couldn’t help but grin widely as he studied you. You looked absolutely immaculate to him, the dress you were wearing fit you perfectly, your makeup accentuating your already beautiful features. He also found himself rather pleased with the look of joy that was being expressed on your face.

The hostess led the two of you towards the back of the restaurant, your table being somewhat secluded from the others. Bucky pulled out your chair for you, helping you scoot it closer to the table after you sat. 

“Your server will be with you in a bit.,”, the young woman who sat you said with a smile, “And I’ll make sure to let Mr. Stark know you’ve stopped in Mr. Barnes.”

“Thank you.”

Both of you unrolled your silverware from your napkins, placing the linens in your laps and laying the cutlery out on the table. Lifting up your menu you began to read it, jaw almost dropping in shock of the prices. 

“What’s up?”, Bucky asked, noticing your frantic expression. 

“Everythings so expensive.”

He lifted his eyebrows at you, “Y/N, I’m paying, order whatever you want, price doesn’t matter, just get whatever sounds good to you.”

Your eyes widened.

“Really?”

“Yes, anything you want and it’s yours.”, he said, shooting you a big smile.

You took your time scanning the menu, trying to ignore the massive price tags by the dishes and only focus on what looked tasty to you. Finally deciding on your meal, you sit the menu down.

“Good Evening.”, a young man approaches your table, “My name is Evan, I’m going to be your server tonight. Can I get you started with any cocktails?”

“I’ll take my usual drink and the lady will have…..”, Bucky trailed off, waiting for your answer. 

“Oh I’ll just have water thank you.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back with those for you.”

Evan the waiter turned and headed towards what you assumed was the door to the kitchen area. 

“Sorry, not really feeling like drinking after what happened last time I drank alcohol.”, you sheepishly chuckled, rubbing your arms anxiously, worried the man in front of you might find you silly for your admission.

“That’s totally okay, makes sense to me, but you don’t have to explain yourself just because you didn’t want to drink.”

You smiled at him softly.

Evan returned to the table a few minutes later, bringing you your water and Bucky his old fashioned. Before he retreated again, he took your meal orders, steak for Bucky and lobster mac and cheese for you. The waiter reached for the menus, removed them from in front of you, and stated your food would be out shortly as he made his leave. 

Bucky and you talked a lot, the conversation between the two of you flowing with ease. You learned he was twenty-nine (a few years older than you), you both loved cats and literature, he told you about his love for cooking and baking, and you expressed yours for mixology. The two of you were deep in a conversation about possibly going to a cat cafe together, when a familiar man approached your table.

“Bucky!” Tony called, leaning down to embrace his friend.

Bucky patted Tony on the back.

“Nice seeing you again.”, Tony said as he turned to you.

You stared at him, trying to place him in your memory.

“Shit you don’t remember anything from that night, duh, I’m a jerk. My names Tony, Tony Stark, Bucky is one of my oldest friends, known him since birth.”, Tony lamented, extending his hand to shake yours.

“My name is Y/N”, you said, embracing his hand back, “It’s nice to meet you sir.”

The three of you chatted for a while, Tony yapping about old memories he had with Bucky, before he was pulled away by a frantic waitress, who whispered something in his ear.

“I’ve got to go take care of some urgent business, I hope you enjoy the food Y/N, and hopefully I’ll be seeing you around again soon.”, Tony winked at Bucky, waving at you as he made his exit. 

“I like him.”, you smiled at Bucky.

“Well don’t tell him that, you’ll just make his head bigger.”

The two of you laughed. 

You were beyond thrilled that the date was going so well. Bucky had so far been a perfect gentleman to you, making sure you didn’t touch a single door handle of any kind and pulling out your chair for you. Such simple acts almost had you turned into a swooning idiot. What really put you at ease, was the fact that the two of you could just bounce back and forth off of each other, not running out of topics of conversation. 

Evan appeared again, this time carrying a serving tray. He placed your respective meals in front of each of you, before he turned to leave saying he would be back in a bit to check in on the food and to enjoy. 

You reached for your fork, scooping up a big bite of your meal. As soon as the food touched your tongue you swore you were in heaven. This was the best mac and cheese you think you’d ever tasted. You almost moaned around your fork, savoring the test.

“How do you like it?”, Bucky asked.

“It’s amazing.”

The two of you ate in mostly silence, you too focused on your food at the moment to form a good conversation. You sat down your fork, having eaten almost all of your meal, and feeling like you were about to burst from the seams. Bucky on the other had eaten his whole meal, setting down his silverware on the empty plate that remained. You honestly weren’t surprised. With how beefy the man was, you knew he had to be able to put down some food.

“Do you want any dessert?”

“I think I’m going to explode if I try to eat any more.”, you laughed, hands holding onto your stomach.

“The check it is then.”, he laughed along with you.

Evan had boxed up your remaining food, bringing it back to you in a little bag. Bucky slid him a generous wad of cash, telling him to keep the change. Standing, Bucky made his way to you, pulling out your chair, helping you stand. He then reached past you, grabbing your bag of leftovers. 

“Thank you for dinner.”, you said to him.

“The pleasure is all mine.”, he responded, his empty hand brushing yours, as the two of you walked closely out of the restaurant and waited for the valet to get his car.

As you climbed back inside the Mustang, and Bucky shut the door, you felt as though you were a princess in some kind of fairytale. How lucky were you to be on a date with such a kind and sweet man. Bucky joined you back in the car, clicking his seatbelt into place and starting up his vehicle. 

“If it’s okay with you, I kind of wanted to just drive around and talk some more before I take you home? I’m enjoying talking to you way too much right now to end our date already.”, he admitted turning to you.

Your face blossomed red and butterflies churned in your stomach, “Yeah of course, I would love to do that, let me text my roommate really quick and let her know.”

Bucky beamed at your response.

You pulled your phone out, opening your text chain with Nat and sending her a message.

Y/N: Bucky and I are going to drive around for a bit, he said he likes talking to me ahhhh, dinner went amazing, will fill you in on everything when I get home!

She liked the message almost immediately and sent you back a response.

WIFEY: I told you to not worry! I love you!

Y/N: I love you too!

You and Bucky drove off down the semi-busy street and away from the restaurant. At first you had just been driving straight forward when Bucky all of a sudden began to change direction every few blocks. He made a left here, two rights there, another left, not really driving around with any destination in mind, at least that’s what you assumed. 

In all actuality, a few blocks back Bucky had realized that a large black SUV was tailing his car. As to not raise any alarm to you he continued on talking as though nothing was wrong. Mentally he noted that this was probably related to some of the business Tony had been referring to.

When there was a pause in your conversation, Bucky reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone and dialed Tony’s number. 

“Give me just a second sweetheart, gotta check on something really quick.”, Bucky said to you, reaching out and turning up the radio louder, hoping you wouldn’t overhear his conversation. 

You nodded, responding with an okay.

Two rings later and Tony answered, “What’s up?”

“I think part of the business you had to deal with wasn’t taken care of man. I’ve got a dog giving chase if you get what I mean.”, he whispered into the phone. 

“The girl still with you?”

Bucky glanced at you, “Yeah.”

“Shit. Head out of the city, I’ll track your location and the guys and I will catch up to you. We’ll get rid of the problem before your girl even notices what’s going on.”

Bucky hung up the phone without a good-bye. He took another left turn, followed by a right, getting off on a remote road that led out of the city and into the country.

You had purposefully diverted your attention from his phone call, focusing on anything other than Bucky, not wanting to be rude and eavesdrop. 

“Where are we going?”, you asked, worried slightly at the fact your date was driving you out to the middle of nowhere.

“Shit, this seems creepy to you, doesn’t it?”, Bucky questioned, seeing your expression, “I just wanted to drive out a bit to try and see the stars better.”, he quickly made up a lie.

It totally worked on you too, easing your worries. The car ventured even further into the country, fields of crops on either side of the road from you, the car behind you inching closer.

“You started to make me worried that I was about to become the topic of a true crime podcast for a second.”, you giggled.

Bucky joined you, laughing loudly, noticing in the rearview that the car pursuing you was way too close.

A loud pop sounded, something whizzing past your face, and the front windshield splintered with cracks. 

“Oh fuck!”, Bucky yelled from beside you.

He floored the gas pedal, speeding ahead of your attackers. Another pop sounded from behind you, the passenger side mirror gaining a hole through the middle. 

“Holy shit are they fucking shooting at us?!”, you screamed.

“Yes, yes they are!”, Bucky yelled back.

“What the fuck why?!”

He didn’t know how to answer you, glossing over your question, he asked one of his own.

“Do you know how to shoot a gun?”

You baulked at him.

“No I don’t know how to shoot a gun why the hell would I know how to shoot a–”, you were cut off as another bullet shot past your head., “Holy shit!”

“Okay well I’m going to need you to hold the wheel steady for me then!”, he instructed you.

Before you could give him a response, he let go of the steering wheel. You launched your body across the console, yanking the wheel to the correct position, keeping you guys straight on the road. Bucky reached to his left, opening a secret drawer of sorts in his car door. Reaching inside he pulled out a black pistol. You stared at it in shock, eyes flipping between the weapon and Bucky. 

Next thing you knew, he had turned around in his seat, aiming it towards the vehicle giving you guys chase. As he steadied the weapon, another bullet shot through the car digging into his left shoulder, an agonized groan leaving his mouth. Ignoring the burning feeling in his arm, Bucky realigned the weapon with his target and fired, successfully taking out one of the tires on your assailant's car. Their vehicle lost control, veering off the road and into the ditch. 

“Shit.”, Bucky hissed, as he faced forward, taking the wheel back over from you.

Bucky's arm was throbbing, white hot pain radiating down his arm. His attention was locked forward, focusing on getting you as far away from the shooters as possible. The two of you drove further and further away, finally stopping at the end of a dead end road. He threw the car in park, hurriedly reaching around for his phone. Finally finding it, Bucky immediately dialed Tony again.

As the phone started ringing, Bucky’s eyes finally looked at you. Your hair was tousled, shattered pieces of glass were scattered all over your dress, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. 

Your head reeled, there was no way any of this was actually real. You reached for your forearm, giving it a pinch, feeling pain bloom from the spot you squeezed in between your fingers. 

You turned slowly, eyes locking with Bucky’s blue ones. The two of you sat there in silence for just a brief moment before you spoke.

“What in the absolute fuck is going on?!”

PART FIVE COMING SOON

TAGLIST IS OPEN!! LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

TAGLIST ☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★ @danzer8705 @sebastians-love @mrsnikstan

[homestuckreplay]

has anyone else noticed that homestuck is getting kinda long?

(page 1145-1148; some thoughts on pacing and accessibility)

Jade’s bass playing to grow or move the lilypads works, and was well foreshadowed – in addition to both her bass playing pages where the garden atrium grows because of the amp in there (p.822, 1026), Jade captchalogues the bass (p.823) and the narration specifically notes ‘You take the PORTABLE AMP from the WALL SOCKET too.’ It feels like Act 3 has been entirely leading up to Jade entering these ruins.

In ‘[S] Jade: Pester John’ (p.1073), Bec guards the mystic ruins on Jade’s island, and a glowing white spirograph in the ‘same’ location mapped onto Prospit. So it’s a fair guess that the white spirograph was also present on ancient Earth, and may have been the cause of the ruins’ construction. And that means it might still be within the ruins, and could act as a portal to Skaia, which would allow Jade to go there while she’s awake. If she did that, could she travel to Prospit and find her own dream self? Or is her dream self only present on Prospit when her waking self is asleep? Either way, I think these ruins will be Jade’s backdoor into Sburb.

I love all three of these Jade pages for the visuals – 1145 because it’s cool when two panels match up into one bigger one (and interesting to think about why this was chosen instead of one bigger panel – maybe because one is Jade and one is the amp, and they’re two separate focal points?) and 1146 because Jade imagining herself as a frog as she jumps over lilypads is so fun and silly. I checked Wikifur and apparently amphibians such as frogs are classified under scalies, which is different to her interest in a ‘proud snout’, ‘the hunt’ and ‘claiming the night’ (p.797) but still fits with her desire for ‘a more visceral sapience’ and escaping the confines of humanity. So I feel like Jade doesn’t have one specific fursona, and wants to keep her options open with different animals.

And 1147 is just incredible – the glowing green symbols look like something from a hacker movie, like Jade’s entering a digital space, but at the same time we know this is physical stone and ancient hieroglyphs. Those things being meshed is very cool to me, and it makes me wonder just how much of all human technology was originally from Skaia. The mesmerizing soft glow gives the page a dreamlike quality, a reminder that Jade doesn’t have a plan, she’s just following instructions from her dreams and acting on faith.

John told Dave ‘i think you should use your copy of the game to help [rose]!’ on page 294, and it has taken 854 pages and over half a year in real time for him to install the game and help, but they are finally making this transpire. I was saying yesterday how Jade challenges Rose, and today I’m saying that Dave doesn’t challenge Rose at all. They have great banter, but Rose always has a leg up on it – and I think she types and/or thinks faster too, as she gets in her ‘Go on.’ before Dave can finish his ‘where making this’ sentence, when usually he’s the one to send a bunch of messages in a row.

Here’s the thing. I am speaking directly to Rose Lalonde here. Hi Rose, I understand that your house is burning down and things suck right now and you should not have to be the person who has to micromanage all your friends and deal with this entire situation alone. However. You are being dumb as shit by not giving Dave some basic instructions on exactly what to do the second he loads the game. You know that kid is not gonna read your GameFAQs. You know he can dish out those giant long monologues but he cannot take them. Please Rose, for your own safety and possibly the future of humanity or something, give the guy like three bullet points.

...no? Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff reference instead? Okay then.

This update also comes with a newspost, which I’m going to quote in full below.

That's my cue to disappear. Time for me to vanish into the animation abyss for a while. Let's give it a week, tops. If you're one of those people who has trouble keeping up with all the updates I bury you with, maybe now's a good time to catch up. And if you're one of those people who's finding everything going on in the story to be somewhat confusing and overwhelming, then maybe now is a good time to go back and reread it all. I'm pretty sure about 95% of all MSPA readers huddle somewhere beneath this umbrella. (/news 8 January 2010)

I have been thinking about the update frequency, and thought I was projecting because I definitely put an above average amount of time into Homestuck, but maybe this is a bigger issue. People only have so much time in the day, but some people do have more time than others. Relative to other webcomics, Homestuck asks readers to put a lot more time into it, a lot more frequently – both because the updates come fast and because the story is complex. It rewards people who do put a lot of time into it, because the small details, patterns and parallels, time loops, etymologies, and opportunities to predict and even influence (via user commands) the story encourage people to stay up to date, to read closely and reread often. The more effort you put into reading Homestuck, the more you get out of it, and that’s incredible, but it’s definitely made by and for people who have a lot of leisure time. So, young middle class people, especially teenagers and college students who don’t need jobs, and people who are socially isolated for whatever reason, will be way overrepresented. (I do this project because I love it and I do it by choice, but balancing this with work and school and relationships and my other major hobby is not easy especially with what’s felt like a recent increase in update frequency!)

This quality also makes it more competitive with other webcomics – someone might have time to keep up with, say, 20 webcomics that post a once per day or three times a week strip that stands alone or is part of a relatively simple story. If that person wants to follow Homestuck, they might have to drop down to 15 or even 10 other comics, because this one takes up such a disproportionate amount of space. This idea of creators putting out constant content to stay afloat on a transient internet, such that it could be a full time job to keep up with it (and sometimes is – there’s franchises that have in-house lore experts because creators themselves struggle to keep track of stories) will become huge in the future. And when we can all only pick a couple pieces of media to stay up to date with, life gets harder for smaller, newer and part time creators, who can’t provide that yet. And yeah I’m probably part of that problem.

I might also disappear for a few days to work on end of act 3 stuff! or I might not! if I have anything to say in the meantime or any fun asks then I will post. but at the absolute latest I will post on the day EOA3 drops and if I don’t do that then send an ambulance to my house.

> John: Ascend to First Gate.

[thousandstories]

Hi, I hope youve been well 💕💕 I hope life isn't still imploding for you! what happened to little nathaniel is one of my favorite fics and I hope you know how appreciated it is!! I rly rly hope this doesn't seems pushy or anything, i know authors hate when people ask about updates. But I was just wondering if you had any idea of when the next chapter will be out? I am willing to wait for years lol. I hope you're having a great new year!! 💕

anon i am so sorry it took me a couple (read: four) days to answer this, you're so sweet thank you SO much. i'm so glad you like the fic! life continues to implode unfortunately (i should have believed people when they said the second year of uni is miles worse than the first. (but also yay the joys of education! and debt!)).

i do have 4,000-ish words of the next chapter edited & finalised (and we are not even a third of the way through the chapter outline so that's probably going to increase significantly). i honestly have no definitive idea when the next chapter will be up other than that it will definitely be no more than a month at the very most so yay.

but i can offer a snippet instead:

Neil seems content to wait him out, eyebrow raised. That scar by his bottom lip is as infuriating as ever. “I don’t care about any of it,” Andrew finally answers.  “I don’t believe you,” Neil says, and that faux-cheerful edge to his voice is gone. Those blue eyes are keen and bright, even in the dimmed fluorescent lights of this god-awful bar. His mouth is a thin line, tugged downwards slightly by the intensity of his concentration. All of this focus on Andrew. Why? “I hate you,” Andrew says, as his gut twists and his blood curdles. The thrumming in his veins is similar enough to bottomless rage that it cannot be anything but.

[joelsdagger]

only then, i am good || one shot

joel miller x f!reader

masterlist || ao3 || follow @joelsdaggerupdates for fic updates!

pairing: daddy jackson!joel x f!reader summary: you have a bad day in which it makes you question your worth. only joel can make you see the truth. warnings: jackson era [well into the tlou2 timeline but nothing bad happens], implied age gap [i warn you, joel is old old], angst [in the form of internal turmoil], feelings of guilt/burdening, established relationship, dd/lg dynamics, soft daddy dom!joel, daddy kink, praise kink, size kink, finger sucking, pet names galore [baby, sweetheart, little girl, angel] size kink, reader is hella needy, reader has pubic hair bc i said so, smidgen of cockwarming, just the tip mention, dubcon*, dacryphilia, unprotected piv, nipple play, belly bulge, creampie, joel is reader’s personal weighted blanket, fluff, aftercare. *reader is not in the right headspace to properly consent to piv but she’s a-okay with it! word count: 3.8k

a/n: i’ve been to emotional (and physical) hell and back (are we back? who knows) these last few weeks and it had me yearning for daddy jackson!joel. so this is what this is. it’s a tad different from my typical style of writing and it’s not betaed and very very loosely proofread (barely looked thru it while in the waiting room lol), so it’s probably shit but i hope you enjoy it nonetheless xx

You should’ve double-checked the lock. Triple-checked it. As always. Hand to God, it slipped your mind. You were tired. Achy and sleepy, and you just wanted to go home. Back to Joel. Curl your spent body into the thick, burly warmth of his and let him cradle you until the whole day wipes itself from memory. 

You’ve been asking them for more responsibilities — a more serious role within Jackson, for months. After today, you’re sure they’ll never take you seriously. Never see you as one of them. They’re so much older and wiser — experienced. And you…well, you are not.

They never fuck up. Never make mistakes that would risk losing an important asset to this safe haven. And today you have. You fucked up. You don’t know how you forgot. It’s been your only job here, the only thing they let you have, and still — you messed it up. 

You forgot to lock the stall door to the stable for one of the horses. And not only did the horse escape but now the town is technically down one patrolman. You have completely thrown off the patrolling schedule, one that was meticulously crafted and has been in place long before you arrived in Jackson. It very rarely changed. 

You offered to lend a hand, practically begged them to send you out with the rest of the search party. But Maria, Tommy, and Joel all told you to go home while they sent a group (of which included Joel and Tommy themselves) outside the gates, well past dusk, to go looking for him. You felt entirely useless.

Begrudgingly, you scurried home, a beaten puppy in need of licking one’s wounds. Feeling the weight of the day and the frustration that has accumulated over months suddenly seeping into your bones, and you just…broke. You crawled into bed, alone in the dark, and you cried for hours, your mind spiraled, turning over the mistake you made, again and again and again. 

When it stops and the wracking sobs slow into shuddery hiccups, it’s only because you hear heavy footsteps in the hallway. Slow. Tired. But steady — sure. And that nauseating sensation in the pit of your stomach returns as the footsteps grow closer and closer. 

The door creaks open slowly, pale yellow light from the hallway spills through the crack, your puffy eyes squint and flutter against the sudden light, shape of him vague in your blurry vision, but you know it’s him: tall frame, broad shoulders, pale skin, and dark features.  

Joel. 

You curl your body tighter, making yourself as small as possible. Close your eyes, and bury your tear-stained face back into the damp royal blue of his linens, the piney scent of him everywhere: his pillows, his sheets, his mattress, clouding your mind. You hear his footsteps as he rounds the bed, feel him reach over and switch on the lamp beside you. He grunts, his joints creak as you feel his weight sinking the edge of the bed, settling himself down in the ‘c’ shape your body had formed.

“We found him. Fella was out by Hidden Pines,” voice soft, almost cautious. 

You nod silently, but you don’t look at him, not wanting to embarrass yourself even more, not wanting him to see how pathetic you look after spending hours upon hours sobbing into the pillows over a mistake you made.  

A heavy hand cups your knee over the sheets, thumb stroking bone through the fabric there. 

“It wasn’t your fault, baby.” He says, surely.

But you don’t really believe him. 

You sniffle and tilt your face away from the tear-soaked pillows just enough so he can hear you. “Yes, it was. I was the last one in there. It’s my job to take the horses back and settle them in for the night. My job to make sure they stay in the stables. It’s been my job, my only job all this time, and I can’t even do that right,” you ramble, voice breaking, bottom lip wobbling, fat tears pricking your red eyes once again. 

“No. You listen here,” he says sternly, feeling his body turn beside you, bed covers bunching up around your knees. “You did lock it, but the latch was loose, honey. Tommy and I tried ‘em. They’re due for a fixin’ n’ we should’ve been checkin’ ‘em, but that’s my job, not yours. This wasn’t on you, darlin’. You hear me?”

You avoid his eye and stay furled on the bed. Silence swells between you, and you fiddle with a stray thread in his sheets.

“He wasn’t supposed to take off like that, but he’s a younger horse,” he shrugs, and a sigh falls from his lips. “It happens. Whoever was mannin’ the wall tonight should’ve seen him. Many things were at play, baby. It wasn’t your fault.” He says in a matter-of-fact tone.

Your head snaps over your shoulder in a fury. “I could’ve helped fix it. I could’ve made it right,” you bite, shaky voice laced with venom. You don’t mean for it to sound so harsh, but it manages to stifle the sob that threatens to claw up your throat. And for a second, the irritation in your voice doesn’t rattle you until you notice Joel’s shoulders tense, and you regret it immediately. 

A whirlpool of emotions swirls in your belly. A weird noise squeaks out from your lips as you try to fruitlessly blink away the sleep and salt in your eyes. You don’t want to cry in front of him. You bury your face into the pillow again, trying to muffle the sob-like groan as you cringe away from Joel, ashamed. 

His hand drifts up your thigh, broad palm splayed across your flesh, his touch unwavering. “Sweetheart, the only reason I told you to stay here s’because it ain’t safe out there. The amount of infected may be less this time o’year but the cold…” He trails off, his grip tightening around the meat of your thigh unconsciously, “makes people meaner,” his voice grows unsteady at the thought. 

You shiver, and you suspect he feels it. He clears his throat, and tender fingers brush the strands of hair out of your face, then they trail down, and you feel the cold roughness of his skin against the warm softness of yours as his calloused hand cups your jaw, tilting it to face him, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

Your eyes pinch shut, and the dam breaks. You can’t bear to look at him. Your heart sits heavy in your chest, feeling the guilt creeping back in at his touch. His hands, usually warm, are now icy cold, and all you can think about is how you are the cause of it. He had been out in the cold longer than he needed to be because of you. You and he both know his worn bones can’t handle it, and yet, he went out there in the dead of winter as nightfall cloaked over Jackson to right your wrong, and it makes you feel terrible. 

“Baby. Look at me,” he whispers softly.

You do, and through bleary eyes you meet his weary gaze. His lips are downturned into a frown, and with a twist in his brows, that worry line in the middle of his forehead materializes. You hate being the cause of it. Your heart plops to your stomach, your throat goes thick, something rising at the base of it. 

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me,” he implores, his voice stern but soft, eyes shifting back and forth between yours — dark amber irises so warm, pleading.  

Teach me to be good. “Just you, daddy – just need you,” you blubber, your voice innocent and small. Weak. 

He knows exactly what you mean. You have been together long enough that he reads you like an open book. You watch as he wordlessly toes off his boots with a thud. Watch as he moves to stand to unbuckle his belt, dropping it to the floor with a soft clink, his jeans, jacket, and flannel following shortly after. Watch as he shifts onto the bed, bones crackling as he lowers himself and presses his broad form into you, his knees popping as they coax yours open. Watch as one of his hands drifts south between your bodies to grip the thick root of his cock while the other bunches up your nightgown to your navel, revealing your unobstructed cunt to him.  

You whimper when the leaky head of his cock notches at the already slippery entrance of your cunt. He glides the wide cockhead between your folds, up and down, up and down, while the warmth of his breath fans across your face when his lips part to murmur, just the tip tonight, baby, s’not a good idea for you to take all o’me right now, alright? 

You nod numbly. You don’t care how much he gives you — you just need to feel him. Need him to fix you. Need him to make the hurt you feel inside go away. Need him to search for the good. Maybe it’s there, buried deep in a place only he can find. 

His hands find yours, pins them firmly above your head, and with his dark gaze holding yours, he very gently pushes his tip inside your tight, wet hole. His mouth pops open in a deep groan, and you catch it with a soft gasp of your own. 

“There you go. S’that feel better, pretty baby?” He murmurs, his jaw ticks, brows twitch.  

You nod desperately, your wide, glassy eyes going hooded. Your thighs tense around him, causing a little more of his cock to push inside, making you whimper and squirm beneath him.  

“Good. Now just listen to my voice. Just focus on me, right here,” he grunts haggardly, voice so low and commanding. And that alone makes your brain go fuzzy. 

You try to focus all your energy on his voice and the heavy weight of him on top of you and the fat tip of his cock stretching your too little hole open, but suddenly, he pulls out, and you almost whine at his absence.

But Joel doesn’t give you enough time. 

Your body moves up the bed with a jolt, gasping when his hips push forward with more force, filling your cunt with the head of his cock, and then some more, only to slip out of you again immediately after. He’s toying with you, and he’s doing so because he knows you really need this. 

He slips his cockhead gently back inside you, and you whine at the soft squelch your slicken pussy makes. The two of you revel in the lewd, wet sounds that ricochet through the room, all while never breaking eye contact. 

“My little girl just needed me to fuck all the bad thoughts away, hm?” he breathes, his nose brushes against yours.

“Mmhm,” you sigh, cunt flittering around him. 

“Needed me to stretch out her sweet little hole and make everything better, s’that it?” 

You nod frantically, moaning breathlessly. 

Joel growls. “Say yes, daddy,” he commands you softly, his fingers squeezing yours.

“Y—ye—yes, d–daddy.” Your words come out broken in between the slow rolls of his hips, but by the smirk that tugs on his lips, you know he’s proud of you anyway. 

“Good girl,” he praises, his touch featherlight as his fingers push the stray strands of hair away from your forehead, and the scruff of his chin tickles your nose as he lays an open-mouthed kiss between your furrowed brows.  

“But daddy—” you start to protest, scrunching your nose. 

Joel harrumphs as he pulls back. All of his features pull into a stern look, and to stop you, the pad of his roughened thumb sweeps across your cheek and sinks between your parted lips. 

“Na-uh. No fightin’ with daddy,” he presses gently. 

By instinct, your lips close around his digit, sucking it into your mouth and swirling your tongue around the thick of it, tasting the salty, woodsy flavor of him, and it only feeds the foggy haze in your mind more. 

Spit pools at the corner of your lips. His thumb moves in and out of your mouth, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he fucks his cockhead in and out of your hole. Your mind begins to blur, but there’s still a storm stirring in your swollen eyes, and Joel, as always, can see it. 

“Alright, this ain’t workin’,” he sighs exasperatedly. 

And you think he’s utterly fed up with you not obeying him. He unsticks his body from yours, and your eyes search his face — the lines beside his eyes, the hairs in his brows, the muscles around his lips — trying to decode the emotion that flits across his features. Though, as expected, it’s near impossible to read him. Joel may have been able to crack you open, and although the years he has spent in Jackson have managed to soften him up — tiny cracks in his stony exterior over time — he remains inscrutable. 

For a moment, you think he’s going to scold you. Tell you you’re no good for him anymore. You wouldn’t blame him. You can’t seem to do anything right. Maybe he thought he wanted to take you apart, bit by careful bit. But what if he peered through the gap and saw something he didn’t like? What if he had a change of heart — now that he stepped back and assessed the damage? What if the severity of it was too much to mend? Burden too heavy to carry. He doesn’t deserve that. He deserves someone good. Someone not in need of fixing. Someone unbroken. 

But Joel surprises you. His hand retracts from your face, and instead wraps his arm around your middle, maneuvering you onto his thighs so you're straddling him. His free hand fists the hem of your nightgown, and in one swift motion, tugs the fabric over your head and tosses it aside to join his pile of clothes on the floor. His heavy hands find your waist once again, and with the head of his cock still buried deep in between your legs, he sits up and back against the headboard, grunting a low, alright, c'mere, as he takes you with him with ease.

You cling to him like a koala, body putty and pliant as he brings your weak arms to wrap around his neck. And then, a firm hand moves to cradle the back of your neck, lets you nuzzle your wet face into the dip in his shoulder, and breathe in the comfort of his scent while his other traverses the line of your spine.

Slow but steady, Joel bucks his hips up, up, up, until the entirety of his thick length works its way into the slick slide of your cunt. Your soft thatch of curls meets his, softly grazes your clit, and you writhe in his arms, sniffle, and whimper brokenly against his shoulder, but sure, gentle hands pull you into his chest tighter. You feel the strong drum of his heart against yours, thrumming against each other: ga-gung, ga-gung, ga-gung, pace quickening, like they're trying to catch up, trying to sync. Your body melts into his. Skin to skin, heart to heart, heat of your cunt to the heat of his cock; and then suddenly, two become one.

“Shh, shhh, I know, baby, I know. You got it,” he whispers, as he begins to rock you back and forth, back and forth, lulling you gently back into the haze, and everything finally fades away. 

He presses a kiss right behind your ear. “Therrrre we go, just take it, good girl,” he murmurs as a heavy hand pets your hair. And whether he’s talking about his cock or his praise, you obey regardless. Your cunt sucks the heat of his cock in deep. Let him fuck himself into you; let his warmth smolder you until your cunt ignites. Let it roar and burn and spread through your system like wildfire. Let him make you good.

The tips of his fingers move through your hair in small ministrations, gently scratching away at your skull. “Daddy—s–so big—” you whimper, your fingers pulling the hair at the nape of his neck, tears welling up in your eyes as something low in your belly begins to churn. 

“Shhh, angel, it’s okay. I know, s’a lot,” he soothes, feeling his deep voice reverberate against your chest. Your cunt contracts at his praise, and the steady pace of his hips falters briefly; he groans deeply when he feels his tip choked tight within your walls, “you’re doin’ so good for me, sweetheart, so good.”  

He continues his shallow thrusts while he rocks you in his arms. There’s a low static buzz in your ears, but you can still hear the perverse chant that manages to fall from your lips — one that grows louder with every roll of his hips, daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy. And in turn, he murmurs incessant blabbers of, you’re okay, angel, daddy’s here, daddy’s gotcha, into your hair, punctuating every one of his words with a soft kiss to your temple and a slow buck of his hips.  

The tip of his cock nudges that soft ridge deep inside you, and he feels your cunt flutter around him. “You gonna come for me, angel, hm? You gonna be a real good girl for daddy and let me feel this drippy little pussy come all over me?” He coos.  

“Uh-huh,” you murmur. 

Deft fingers curl around the back of your neck, and with the slightest of pressure, he squeezes once, gently instructing you to use your words. A silent command. 

“Y-yes, daddy, I prom–I promise, I wanna be good. I wanna be good,” you mewl.

His nose drags along the side of your face, down, down, down, until his heated lips meet your pulse point. “Go on, baby, let go n’ get daddy all messy. Show daddy how good of a girl you are,” he rambles, his voice a low vibration, goosebumps prickling in its wake.

With your tight cunt full and impaled on his cock, your clit throbs, eager for more friction. You rut your hips against his, humping him like a dog in heat as you rub your puffy pearl against the graying curls there, smearing him in your slick just as he insisted.   

And within seconds, your body constricts, navel pulls taut, and then something fiery in your belly erupts. Your body begins to tremble as stars burst behind your eyelids, liquid heat turns your mind and body molten, melting away completely with the force of your release.

“Daaaddy,” you cry, lips quivering. Your muscles go lax, and your body slumps in his hold, feeling the last of your energy leaving you. Your head lulls back, and his hand slides up the base of your neck in time to catch it in his massive palm.

He clutches you tight, marveling at your fucked-out form in his arms while babbling praises of,  ohhh–that’s it, that’s it, good job, baby, such a good fuckin’ girl— daddy’s so proud of you, as warm tears roll down your face. And it only spurs him on. 

His languid strokes speed up, your body jolts above him violently, weeping cunt fluttering repeatedly around him. Your mouth falls open, wanton moans escape past your parted lips as he fucks you harder. “Christ, that’s it, that’s my girl. Look at you, perfect little thing,” he pants, coaxing you through your orgasm. 

His eyes drop quickly to watch the bounce of your tits, nipples peaked and gleaming with beads of sweat. He dips his head to one sticky breast, and with a flick of his hot tongue, he laps up the salt on your skin. 

It elicits a sharp gasp from you, your chewed fingernails desperately trying to claw at him, your body arching against his mouth, and you feel him grin against the curve of your breast. His mouth drifts, wraps his whiskered lips around your other swollen nipple, tongue swirls the pointed bud, teasing you with a graze of his teeth across the wet peak before nipping it, tugging the stiffened point ever so slightly between his teeth.  

“Daddy–oh!” You choke on a moan, and your spent pussy clenches around him so tight, your cunt is almost forcing him out. His hips buck into you harder in response, his thrusts growing more erratic as he seeks his own release. 

Joel hisses, mouth releasing your tit with a wet pop, “sweet Jesus, m’gonna give it to you real good, baby—like you deserve, fuck—”

He's cut off by the strangled groan that rips through his chest, his back arches off the headboard, and you feel him twitch. His grasp on your enervated form tightens, and then a blazing heat spreads inside you. His sweaty forehead falls to your dampened chest, the swell of your breasts cushioning the drop of his head, his body convulsing as he pumps upwards into your core. Cock pulsing and spasming within your walls as he continues to spill inside you, your belly swelling and set to burst full of his seed.  

Joel slumps back against the headboard, his arms loosen, but they don’t release you, just holds you there on top of him as he presses hasty kisses and whispers shaky sweet nothings into your hair while his hot seed dribbles out around his length, turning the hair at the root of his cock into a pool of sticky milky white.  

You don’t know if it’s minutes or hours that pass by as you stay limp in his lap, breathing in the sweat and sex on his skin as you snuggle back into his neck, the heat a low simmer. But when he runs a warm, wet rag between your legs and uses the same one to wipe your mixed wet off of his shaft before he tucks you in with a peck to your lips, the tip of your nose, a long kiss to your forehead, and lays himself on top of you with the full weight of him, pulling the comforter up to trap the heat of your bodies between you, sore cunt plugged with his softened cock once more, you know that he makes you feel whole. Not ruined or broken. Not stupid or useless or helpless. And in truth, it's all you’ve ever known with him.

As you slip gently into the waiting black, small fingers that draw circles into his silver curls come to a slow, you think you hear a quiet sigh — feel his lips lazily form around the words against your tacky skin — something of, you are good, angel tucked away into the valley between your naked breasts like a secret. And you think you believe him, and for now, that’s enough for you.

[ranboolivesaysstuff]

HEY! Just because I am now 20 I think having something to kind of re establish boundaries would be good! Considering the ones I put all those times ago have changed :D GENERAL RULES! Do not be racist, sexist, homophobic, antisemitic, ableist, or discriminatory against anyone for any reason. Please if someone is calling you out for things you have done or said, please self-reflect and take the proper steps to change or remove yourself from the community. If you see something you do not like, and it IS MADE WORSE BY BRINGING ATTENTION TO IT, THEN IGNORE IT! Bringing attention to problems that just arent really problems with either the community or me in general are not worth it! Please use common sense when thinking about what/what not to engage with! I personally wish that people in the community do NOT engage with people who just obviously do not like me! Chances are they want a reaction from it so it is MUCH better to just not argue with someone whos mind you will not change! ALLOW CRITICISM OF ME AND MY CONTENT! IF YOU DONT AGREE OR DONT LIKE THEN DO NOT ARGUE ABOUT IT!!!! ALL IT WILL DO IS CAUSE UNESSICARY DRAMA!!! DO NOT make ANY comments or content about me that is explicitly sexual. I completely understand that lately there have been bits due to the changes in how I’ve been presenting myself and how I’ve been presenting more femininely, but that does not allow anyone to use that as an excuse to sexualize any features and such that are more feminine or masculine. Remember that femininity is not sexual and should not be seen or created as such just because its there! (for example, the Vtuber costume and chat being overly weird over the added boobs where there was no need for it). DO NOT draw me in ways that are sexual either, such as highlighting any aspects in a sexual way, or making the content something sexual. I am completely okay with being drawn as any body type, masculine presenting or feminine presenting, as long as you stick to this! PLEASE DO NOT SPECULATE ABOUT MY PERSONAL LIFE!!! Making jokes about certain topics CAN be fine, but a line is crossed when it becomes a legitimate speculation or if a joke is said when I have expressed my discomfort! RESPECT MY FRIENDS!!! All of my friends are their own, incredible people. And they do not deserve to be lumped in or referred to as JUST "my friend". Be respectful in their chats even when im not there, and be respectful to all of them everywhere else! IF SOMEONE IS TRYING TO INFORM YOU THAT YOU MAY BE DOING SOMETHING WRONG PLEASE LISTEN!!! There has been a lot of times in which I have seen people be unwilling to change in the face of a genuine discussion, and that is not something I want in the community! I should NOT have to police every single thing because it should NOT take me saying something in order to change your mind! As my words are not worth more or less when it comes to a lot of subjects! And lastly, do good. Whenever you have the ability to. BE POSITIVE!!! The hater mindset is very draining and can be very toxic to both you and the people around you, so highlight the good instead of the bad if you have the ability to! I am so incredibly proud of how far this community has come, and I cannot wait for the future!!! I have spent some time writing this, but it may not be perfect, so I will update this as time goes on and I think of more, or if something needs to be SUPER cleared up, but for now these are the main ones! I will NOT be updating this after every little thing however, as I do not want you guys to feel like the only way that something is wrong is if I talk about it! As you guys should be able to sustain yourself as a community without my consistent input! Imma go enjoy my birthday by eating a pizza :) thank you all!

[godsfavdarling]

How does that feel?

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader summary: You've been having a hard time finishing in bed and you finally tell Spencer what's going on. words: 4,4k warnings: smut - oral (fem! receiving), breast/nipple play, unprotected sex (don't do that) a/n: this was a request! also, i've stared at this thing for so long i don't know anymore what's going on, but i hope yall like it <3

You sat at a cozy corner table in the dimly lit bar, surrounded by your closest friends - Penelope, Emily, and JJ. The four of you had met up for a much-needed girls' night out to finally have a chance to unwind and catch up. 

"Can you believe the latest case we worked on?" JJ said, shaking her head. "Sometimes it feels like we're living in a crime novel."

"Tell me about it," Emily agreed. "But PLEASE! Let’s not talk about work. I need to decompress."

Penelope raised her glass. "To decompressing! And to… friends!"

You all clinked glasses, smiling at each other. Very quickly the conversation shifted towards more personal topics.

"So, how are things with Will?" Emily asked, turning to JJ.

JJ smiled. "Things are great, actually. We're planning a little getaway next month, just the two of us. What about you, Em? Any romance on the horizon?"

Emily shrugged. "I'm enjoying the single life right now. Besides, it’s not easy to find love having this job. When am I supposed to do that?"

Penelope grinned. "Don’t you worry about it, pumpkin! You’re gonna find someone soon. I can feel it in my bones!."

The conversation continued in this vein for a while, each of you sharing updates about your romantic lives. You listened and laughed along, but Penelope's observant eyes caught the slightly distant look on your face.

"Alright, spill it," Penelope prompted, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. "What's been going on with you lately? You've seemed a bit off."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment. These were your friends, after all, and you knew you could trust them. "It's just... I've been having a hard time finishing in bed lately. It's been… really frustrating."

Emily raised an eyebrow, her expression sympathetic. "Have you talked to Spencer about it?"

You shook your head. "Not yet. I mean, I want to, but I don't want to make him feel bad or think it's his fault. He's always so attentive, and I don't want him to think he's doing something wrong. And he’s not doing anything wrong. He’s perfect. Obviously."

JJ leaned in, her voice gentle. "Hey, communication is key. Spencer loves you, and I'm sure he’d want to know what's going on so he can help. I’m sure his big brain knows exactly what to do."

Penelope nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely! Plus, it could be an opportunity to explore new things together… Sometimes all it takes is a little experimentation."

You smiled, feeling a bit more encouraged. "Yeah, maybe you're right. I'll talk to him."

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

Later that evening, you found yourself back at home, sitting on the couch next to Spencer. He was engrossed in a book, the dim light casting soft shadows across his focused face. He set the book aside when he noticed your pensive expression, concern immediately clouding his eyes.

"Hey, is everything okay?" he asked, his voice gentle but laced with worry.

You took a deep breath, feeling your heart pound in your chest. "Spence, there's something I need to talk to you about."

He turned to face you fully, his full attention on you, his brow furrowing slightly. "Of course. What is it?"

You hesitated, your fingers twisting in your lap as you searched for the right words. Finally, you decided to dive in. "Lately, I've been having a hard time finishing in bed. It's been really frustrating for me, and I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want you to feel bad."

Spencer's expression softened, his eyes filled with understanding and concern. His mouth opened slightly as if to speak, but he hesitated, clearly processing what you had just revealed. "Oh…”

You immediately regretted saying anything. It wasn't the end of the world, after all. You still enjoyed sex but just couldn't reach the high. Maybe you were just too stressed. 

It had nothing to do with Spencer. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as Spencer seemed lost in thought, his brow furrowed as he tried to find the right words. Why would he know what to say? You felt like you were just making things difficult.

“Forget it. It’s fine,” you said quickly, trying to dismiss the conversation and spare him the discomfort.

“No, no, no, wait,” he said, reaching out and grabbing your hands as you started to stand up. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you. “It’s okay. I’m glad you told me. I just… how did I not notice? I… I’m just trying to remember, well, I remember everything and I just… I can’t believe I… couldn’t tell.”

“It’s fine, Spencer. I didn’t want you to know. It’s embarrassing.” Your voice wavered, and you looked away, feeling tears start to spill down your cheeks.

“No, it’s not. It’s not embarrassing. I want you to feel good.”

“It does feel good. Always. I just… I don’t know. I just can’t cum. It’s like I get almost there and it feels good, but it never happens.” At this point, you were crying openly, the frustration and embarrassment overwhelming you.

Spencer pulled you into a tight hug, his arms wrapping around you securely. You buried your face in his chest, feeling the warmth and steady beat of his heart. He rubbed your back soothingly, his voice a soft murmur in your ear. "Hey, hey, it’s okay. We’ll figure this out together. I want to help."

You clung to him, feeling the weight of your frustration starting to lift just a little. "I’m sorry. I just didn’t want you to think it was your fault."

Spencer pulled back slightly to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with love. “It’s not your fault, and it’s not my fault. Sometimes these things happen. What’s important is that we’re in this together. We can try new things, we can talk and see what works for you.”

You nodded, sniffling a little. “Okay. I’d like that.”

“Good,” he said, smiling gently, his thumb brushing away a tear from your cheek. “We’ll take it slow and explore together. Your pleasure is important to me, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make sure you’re satisfied.”

As you snuggled into his arms, the tension slowly easing from your body, you wondered why you had been so scared to tell him in the first place. Spencer always knew what to say, always knew how to make you feel safe and loved. 

This was Spencer - your Spencer - and you realized you had nothing to fear.

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

Spencer was clearly waiting for you to initiate anything, respecting your pace and comfort. In the meantime, he very carefully tried to understand you.

Despite his constant reassurances that there was nothing to be ashamed of and that he was more than happy to figure this out together, you couldn't shake the lingering embarrassment about your problem. He was understanding and supportive, trying to create a safe space for you to open up about your frustrations.

You spent several nights just talking, diving deep into the details of your intimate experiences. Spencer approached it with a mix of curiosity and determination, asking thoughtful and sometimes probing questions. 

You discussed every position you'd tried before, analyzing what felt best and why. You talked about your feelings toward toys and whether they might help. 

Spencer inquired about foreplay - whether it felt too short, too long, too intense, or not intense enough. He wanted to understand what was most pleasurable for you in terms of finishing. Was it when he was eating you out, fingering you, or through penetration? Or did you find that a combination of these was most satisfying? 

He also asked if you enjoyed it when he talked to you during the act. What were your favorite things for him to say? 

He wanted to understand everything about your experiences. What went through your mind when you masturbated? What kind of porn did you watch? Each question, while sometimes making your face flush with embarrassment, was asked with genuine care and focus. 

Spencer treated it like a meticulous scientific research project, aiming to solve the problem with the utmost care and attentiveness. His dedication and focus made you feel deeply cared for, as he was on a mission to be the one to help you find the satisfaction you deserved.

On Saturday night, you and Spencer lay in bed with your books, enjoying the quiet comfort of each other's company. He was engrossed in a thick classic novel in a foreign language, while you were absorbed in your favorite author’s new romance. The plot had just reached the point where the two protagonists had sex for the first time. The scene stirred something deep within you, making your skin feel hot and your heart race. You bit your lip, trying to concentrate, but your thoughts kept drifting.

As the scene ended, you finally allowed yourself to look over at Spencer. He was completely lost in the pages, his brows furrowed in concentration.

“Having problems, genius?” you teased, your voice carrying a playful edge.

“What? No!” he replied, not even looking up from the words on the page. “How’s your romance? Is it good?”

“Oh... it’s very good,” you said, scooting closer to him, propping your head on your hand. Finally, he looked at you, curiosity mingling with his usual attentiveness.

“What is it?” he asked, sensing your change in mood.

“Nothing,” you replied with feigned innocence, placing your hand on his chest. 

His eyes stayed on you, studying your expression. Your breathing grew heavier as you stared at his neck, unable to hold back any longer. You lowered your face to the side of his neck, your lips brushing against his skin.

Spencer's breath hitched slightly, and he set his book aside, his attention fully on you now. "Are you sure it's nothing?" he murmured, his voice low and inviting.

You smiled against his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. "Well, maybe it's something," you admitted, your voice a whisper. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on his chest, feeling a now quicker beat of his heart beneath your touch.

Spencer’s hand came up to cradle your face, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “Tell me,” he urged softly, his eyes filled with desire.

The room felt charged with electricity. 

“Well… I was just reading this scene… where, you know… the girl and the boy finally fucked. On the floor. It made me think of us.” you confessed, your voice trembling slightly.

“You want to have sex on the floor?” Spencer asked with a serious tone.

You laughed, the sound easing some of the tension. “No, too many germs,” you said with a playful grin.

Spencer chuckled, his eyes softening with affection. “Alright, not on the floor then,” he said, his voice low and inviting as his hand gently caressed your cheek. “But I get the idea.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart pounding with anticipation. “I just want to be close to you,” you murmured, your fingers tracing the outline of his collarbone.

Spencer's eyes darkened with understanding, and he leaned in to kiss you, his lips soft yet insistent. “Then let’s explore that together,” he whispered against your lips, his hand sliding down to rest on your hip, pulling you closer.

His kiss was deep, his lips moving against yours with a gentle urgency that sent shivers down your spine. 

His hand, now resting on your hip, guided you closer, pressing your bodies together. 

You instinctively rubbed your thighs together, seeking some friction, and Spencer, ever observant, immediately noticed. It seemed impossible for him to be more attentive, yet somehow he was. 

With a gentle but deliberate motion, he turned you so that you were lying on your back beneath him. As he shifted, you felt the press of his already hard cock against your core, making you lift your hips slightly, yearning for more contact.

“We’re gonna take things slow, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft but firm. “I want you to feel good.”

You wanted him, you wanted him now, but you understood his approach. 

After all the endless conversations, you and Spencer had reached a few conclusions about what worked best for you both. 

For one, you often found yourselves too excited, mostly you, to slow things down. Foreplay, though it was present, had usually been quite brief due to the intense need to get naked and feel him inside you. So, longer foreplay became a new priority.

Two, you discovered that you felt most connected when he was close to you, every part of his body touching yours.

Three, you both agreed on the importance of more kissing. Spencer had given you what felt like a comprehensive college level lesson on erogenous zones, emphasizing the need to focus on and cherish these areas. 

His lips, his touch, his breath - every aspect of physical intimacy was to be savored and explored in greater depth.

With these insights in mind, Spencer leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. His hands roamed your body with a slow, deliberate grace, each touch designed to explore and stimulate. 

His kisses traveled from your lips to your neck, then lower, each movement a careful balance of passion and tenderness.

He paused to look into your eyes, his gaze filled with both love and a hint of playful mischief. “Ready for us to take our time?” he asked, his voice a soothing murmur.

You nodded, your heart racing with anticipation. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and relief. “Let’s take our time.”

Your nipples were already hard against your tank top, the fabric offering little barrier to the stimulation. Spencer grazed the side of your breasts with his hands, his touch both teasing and tender. 

As his lips kissed and nuzzled your collarbones, his thumb began to circle your nipple through the thin material of your shirt. The sensation made you shiver with pleasure, and you melted further into his touch.

His leg, now firmly pressed between your thighs, rubbed gently against your inner thighs and core. The pressure of his length pressed into your hip, amplifying the heat building in you.

“Please, take it off,” you whispered, your voice quivering with need.

“Take off what?” Spencer murmured, his face still buried in your chest, his hair brushing against your face with every movement.

“My shirt. Please,” you pleaded, a hint of desperation in your voice.

He chuckled softly, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he slid his hands lower, pushing up your top to reveal your stomach. He showered your exposed skin with soft kisses, his lips warm and affectionate against your belly. 

As you reached for the hem of your shirt, you quickly pulled it off, tossing it aside.

“What happened to taking things slow?” Spencer asked, looking up at you with a teasing grin, his chin resting against your stomach.

“Sorry,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

“Don’t be,” he replied with a smile. “I just want to make sure you feel really good.”

“I do,” you whispered, your voice filled with need. “Keep going.”

“Whatever you say, angel,” he murmured with a soft chuckle.

With that, Spencer moved between your legs, lifting them and resting them on his shoulders. He positioned himself comfortably, and you felt the anticipation rise as his face moved closer to your core. 

He inhaled deeply, his breath warm against your sensitive folds, making you whimper in response.

“Please,” you begged softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Okay,” he said, his voice muffled as he pressed his face into you, pulling down your underwear with careful, deliberate motions. He started with a gentle kiss on your nub, his lips exploring with a tenderness that made you gasp. 

He then trailed his kisses down to your thighs, peppering them with soft, teasing pecks. The sensation was delightful, and you giggled, placing your hand on his cheek.

He turned his mouth to your hand, kissing the inside of your palm before taking it in his hand and guiding it back to rest gently beside you. His fingers lingered, his touch warm and reassuring as he held your hand. 

He then looked at your cunt.

“You’re already so wet. For me?” he asked, his voice filled with both awe and desire.

“For you? Always,” you replied, your breath hitching.

He chuckled against you, the sound and the vibration making you shiver. “Don’t do that,” you said with a laugh, trying to steady your breathing.

“Sorry,” he murmured with a playful tone. 

Before you could say anything more, he gave you a long, slow lick from your entrance to the top, his tongue moving with a deliberate slowness. He stopped at your sensitive nub and began to suck gently, his mouth working with a rhythm that made you arch your back and moan in pleasure.

Spencer’s mouth was a world of sensation against you. 

He kept going with long, languid licks, his tongue gliding from your entrance to the top of your sensitive nub. Each stroke was deliberate, exploring every inch with a careful, loving precision. 

The warmth of his tongue, combined with the perfect pressure, sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, making you gasp and moan.

You felt your breath quicken as his movements became more focused. 

He moved his tongue in quicker, teasing circles around your clit, his mouth creating a constant, delightful friction. 

You squirmed under the intensity, your hips instinctively bucking in response.

When you no longer felt him on your clit, a desperate cry for him almost escaped your lips. But then, he gently slipped his tongue inside you, and a wave of relief and pleasure washed over you. 

He moved with precision, his tongue exploring deeper while maintaining the steady, teasing motions that drove you wild. Each movement was deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum pleasure from you.

His nose brushed against your folds and clit with each movement, adding an extra layer of sensation. The combination of his tongue inside you and the gentle pressure of his nose against your most sensitive spot made you tremble. 

Your hand clutched at the sheets, your body arching toward him, seeking more.

You could feel the build-up of tension and ecstasy swelling inside you.

Through all of this, Spencer held your hand firmly in his, his fingers intertwined with yours. 

As you felt your orgasm approaching, you squeezed his hand tightly, your fingers gripping his with a mix of desperation and pleasure. 

Spencer responded by tracing gentle circles on the back of your hand with his thumb, his touch soothing and intimate amidst all the intense sensations he was creating.

With a final, expert flick of his tongue, he sent you spiraling into a powerful climax. 

Your body tensed and then released in a wave of pleasure, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued his slow, consistent movements, savoring every moment of your release.

As the waves of pleasure began to subside, he slowly eased his mouth away, leaving soft, lingering kisses along your inner thighs. 

His hand remained clasped with yours, and he looked into your eyes from between your thighs, his expression a mix of content and desire. “Wanna keep going? We can stop if you need to.”

You shook your head, a determined glint in your eyes as you pulled yourself up and crushed into him, pressing your lips against his with an almost desperate intensity. 

The kiss was fervent, your tongues dancing together, both urgent and consuming as you tasted yourself on his lips and on his tongue. He was covered in you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your back, his touch warm and gentle, but firm at the same time.

Tonight felt different. It was more intense, more electric. 

As your kiss grew deeper, you moaned into him, the sound mingling with his own soft groans of pleasure. With a deft maneuver, he turned you so that you were straddling him, his hands firmly on your hips.

“Is this okay?” he managed to ask, his voice a low rumble as he pulled away just enough to look into your eyes. The effort it took to break the kiss was evident, his breaths heavy and laden with desire.

“Yes,” you responded quickly, your need palpable as you crashed your lips back onto his, kissing him even harder. 

“Baby, slow down,” Spencer said softly, though his voice was tinged with longing. “We were meant to go slow.”

You moved your lips to his cheek and jaw, leaving a trail of kisses that were tender but laced with urgency. “I need you. I need you so bad,” you whispered against his skin, the words laced with an aching desire.

Spencer gently cupped your face, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your jawline. He guided your gaze to meet his.

“Look at me,” he said softly, his voice a gentle promise and his eyes filled with affection “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We have all night and even more.”

He leaned in and kissed you with a tenderness that contrasted the intensity of moments before. 

“How do you do it?” you asked breathlessly, your curiosity blending with the haze of desire. You wondered, as you looked into his eyes, how he managed to maintain such control over himself amidst all the passion.

“What?” Spencer’s voice was a mixture of confusion and intrigue.

“Stop yourself,” you clarified, your voice barely above a whisper. “How do you manage to hold back?”

Spencer’s eyes softened, and he gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s not about holding back,” he said, his voice calm and sincere. “It’s about making sure you feel good. I want this to be perfect for you, for us, every time. That’s what matters.”

His words stirred something deep within you, and you were hit by a wave of warmth and appreciation. As he leaned in to kiss you again, the tender, loving nature of his touch gave you goosebumps.

“Can we fuck now?” you asked, your voice husky with need.

Spencer looked at you with a warm, eager smile. “Yes. Yes, we can,”

You gave his cock a few teasing strokes, feeling the way he reacted, his breath hitching as he moaned softly into your shoulder. You slowly guided him to your entrance. 

The sensation of him pressing against you was both thrilling and comforting, a familiar solace you will never get tired of and always makes your world shudder.

With a gentle, deliberate motion, you positioned him at your core, and you slowly lowered yourself onto him. 

The gradual stretch and the way he filled you completely was exquisite, causing you both to moan into each other’s mouths softly. 

You took your time, savoring each inch, feeling every subtle shift and movement.

Spencer’s hands were steady on your hips, guiding and supporting you as you adjusted to his size. His breaths were heavy, matching the rhythm of your movements. 

The room was filled with only the sound of your shared pleasure, a mix of gasps and moans.

As you slowly rode him, the rhythm of your movements became more synchronized, each motion building both of you up to the peak. 

Spencer’s hands were not idle - he moved with purpose, his touch exploring every inch of your body with a deep, loving attentiveness.

One hand continued to support you around your lower back, while the other trailed up to your breasts. His fingers began to play with your nipples, gently pinching and rolling them as you moved. 

That was one thing you had confessed to him during one of your intimate conversations, and Spencer had clearly taken it to heart. You had shared with him how much you loved when he played with your breasts, revealing, a bit embarrassed, the deep pleasure it brought you.

“How does that feel?” he asked in between the kisses he left on your neck, his voice a husky whisper against your skin.

“Fuck,” was all you managed to say, a breathless gasp that made him chuckle, his eyes gleaming with amusement and desire.

He massaged your breasts tenderly, his fingers moving with a practiced ease, adjusting his touch to match the rhythm of your thrusts. His lips covered every inch of your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

The combination of his hands on your breasts, the feeling of him inside you, and his lips on your skin was overwhelming. Your body responded instinctively, arching into his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

Spencer’s breath came in ragged gasps, his groans of pleasure mingling with yours. His hands worked skillfully, keeping your nipples sensitive and aroused as your movements became more frantic and desperate. Then his eyes locked onto yours, a mixture of concentration and passion evident in his gaze.

While you stared into his brown eyes, he finally teased your nipple with a light lick of his tongue. 

You almost screamed. 

He started kissing it while his other hand worked on your other breast, his mouth hot and insistent. His tongue traced circles around your hard peak, sending shivers down your spine, while his slim fingers squeezed the other one.

At that point, you screamed into his ear, unable to contain the intensity of your pleasure.

“Sorry,” you whispered, your voice a trembling apology.

“It’s okay. You’re so beautiful,” he replied, his eyes softening with affection as he looked at you, his hands never ceasing their tender ministrations. His words and touch combined, making you feel cherished and desired in every way and that made your heart swell.

His lips returned to your other nipple, sucking and teasing it with more insistence now.

Finally, the pressure inside you reached its peak. 

With a gasp and a shudder, you came, the wave of ecstasy crashing over you while his lips stayed on your breasts peppering them with kisses.

Your body tensed and then relaxed as you rode out the climax, your moans filling the room. Spencer continued to stroke your breasts gently, his touch both soothing and stimulating as he guided you through the final throes of your orgasm.

As you slowly came down from the high, you leaned your head against his, your fingers gently threading through his hair, the other arm wrapped around his neck. He held you close, his hands now lingering on your back with a soft, affectionate touch. 

He squeezed you tightly, turning his face to kiss your neck, which elicited one more moan from your lips. 

You could feel him smiling against your skin as he squeezed you tightly one more time.

[bluublu-blub]

yan! ex husband (pt. 2)

was supposed to write something on Wednesday but i was still sick. i think i have the worst luck since june came but i am feeling a lot better now. i was almost sent to the hospital but it's a good thing, i wasn't. here is the update for you guys, sorry for the long wait.

He's crazy. 

You looked as he gripped on the divorce papers with so much ferocity that you had ever seen him. He's diligently and quickly reading the fine print as his hands shake from gripping on it. It feels as though you are watching a man descend to madness.

It made you step back away from him.

Then, the paper falls from his grip.

You took one step back further.

"I..." He started. "No... Why?" Now, he is staring at you like you had wronged him when he is the one who left you hanging for years!

"Just sign it." 

"No!" He looked at you with pleading eyes. "I can still fix this. What do I need to do? Do I need to earn more? Spend money on you? What should I do?"

You took a deep breath before looking at him with cold eyes. "Nothing."

"Nothing...?" He repeated softly.

"I don't need anything from you." You stated. "Just sign it."

"But... I..." He looked down at the paper, tears slowly filling up in his eyes. 

You gave him a little push as you bent down in front of him, giving him the pen and pushing the divorce papers in his face. "C'mon, sign this as a last token of your appreciation for me." 

Holding his shaking hand towards the paper, you gave him a smile as he stared at you through his tears. "I..."

"If you still have love left inside your heart, sign the paper."

That was the last time you ever saw him. As soon as he signed his signature, you dropped your smile and left him. Not before telling him your parting words.

"We shouldn't have wasted our time together." You didn't turn back to look at him. "Especially when you only think for yourself."

It's over.

He repeated those words in his mind again and again as he was left hanging at your shared apartment. The pen that he used to sign your divorce paper was left forgotten in the ground. He could only stare emotionless at the wall as he slowly processed what had happened to him.

It's over.

He had arrived at home from his residency. Early for change and excited to rest and spend time with you. He's eager to try your cooking after years of hospital food. 

It's over.

He could hear his own breathing.

He could still feel the tears in his face.

He could barely move.

He could remember your face for the last time.

It's over.

Time must've passed by, the window no longer emitted the light from the sun but he still remain on his place as he thought back on how could he fucked up.

He didn't cheat.

He didn't do anything wrong.

He is always there for you.

There's no reason for divorce.

It's over.

He doesn't know what day it is. But, he had managed to find strength to move and go to work because you wouldn't want a useless husband, right? 

This… this will pass. 

You will be back and everything will be okay.

It's not over yet.

He doesn't really remember what actually happened. He looked at the spot next to his side of the bed, wondering when you would be home. He shrugged, laying on his side as he hugged your pillow to make up for your lack of presence. 

(He also doesn't remember when was the last time you two had a date.)

(He also doesn't remember when it was your birthday and your anniversary.)

(He also doesn't remember what your job is.)

(He also doesn't remember your favorite music as of late.)

(He doesn't remember if you bought a new book and a new plushie.)

(He doesn't remember what your current comfort food.)

He went to sleep, not remembering a thing.

It hits him that you weren't coming back when he saw you at a cafe in a different part of the country. He was at a seminar when caught wind of you and almost called your name when he saw you with another person.

So, he watched you in the distance as he greedily tried to memorize your current appearance. 

Then, he remembered. 

Suddenly, he felt he was in your shared apartment again —on the floor, crying for you. 

He remembered that you weren't coming back to him. 

That's fine. 

He continued to observe you. The lease for your shared apartment is expiring soon, he had already bought a house for the both of you. It will not trouble him trying to talk sense to you. He won't be an absent husband —he changed, he will take care of you now. He learned his lessons.

It's time for you to go back to him, please.

He followed you when you parted ways with your little friend. He will take care of that guy later but he needs to take care of you first.

Lovingly.

He slowly and cautiously walked towards you. Appearing harmless to you with a smile and a wave.

“Hey,” he greeted you. 

He soaked up all of your attention as your eyes widened in surprise.

“What are you doing here?” You glared at him.

He put his arms up as if to show you he means no harm. “I have a seminar in this area.” 

You glared more.

“I was surprised to see you so I figured I could go and say my greetings to you.”

“Well you already did,” you snapped back at him. “Leave.”

“Let’s catch up first, darling.” He purred. “I have words to say to you.”

“Leave.”

“Don't be heartless.” He quipped. “It reminded me of the time you forced me to sign out divorce papers.”

You are always smart, aren't you? He chuckled as he watched your expression drop into nervousness while still staring at him with such intense eyes.

But, he knows you.

You wouldn't dare cause a scene in public.

“Fine. I am picking where we are going.”

He smiled even wider when you scoffed at him.

So cute.

He would not let you go now.

i wished i have managed to captured the essence of the descend to insanity and mc's personality. mc isn't a good person and neither is yan! ex for that matter but that makes them human in a way —and i wanna try and capture that feeling. in a way, mc was passive during their relationship together and yan! ex was too complacent that he could fucked up and mc would accept him either way. but, that's not how it works out for him and he's in denial for that. one could argue that they could've talk and communicate with each other —it will work out but mc needed to leave in order to grow. yan! ex just didn't get that nor does he want that.

[moonchild1]

park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend’s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

[hanjisungslag]

attack on titan headcanons #10

synopsis: how the characters react when you, their s/o, gets hurt. 🩹

characters involved: eren, mikasa, armin, jean, connie, sasha, reiner, bertolt, annie, levi, erwin and hange

notes: i am cooking up a storm, so watch out for that & also hit double digits!!

☆ eren jaeger

bro is INFURIATED

“WHO DID IT HUH?! ILL KILL THEM WITH MY BARE HANDS-”

oh.. you got injured in training? poor babyyy☹️

he’s super sweet and gentle with you.

if anyone tries to go near you though.. he’s super scared they’re gonna accidentally hurt you😭.

so he’s always at the edge of his seat ready to rescue you if needs be.

he gets all of your food, water, clothes, bandages etc.

then the nurses catch him doing it and have to YANK him off of you, once again.

☆ mikasa ackerman

so incredibly caring and concerned 🤍

she was the one who found you on the expedition with a broken leg

she refuses you to the hospital

lets the nurses do their jobs (thank god)

she really wants to be able to help nurse you back to health as well though..

she gives you the next best thing aka massages.

she literally comes in everyday and gives you 3 massages minimum a day

she’ll also sleep in the hospital with you most days.

☆ armin arlert

nothing less than an angel.

for however long you’re in the hospital, he’ll bring you flowers

in there for 3 weeks? new flowers every week.

in there for a week? new flowers every other day.

reads you books every night to help you sleep

sleeps there EVERY single night

always gives good morning and good night kisses

keeps you updated with what’s going on with everyone and training to make sure you don’t miss out.

makes sure to surprise you by bringing your friends there too!! it was a super sweet surprise.

when you’re sleeping, he goes around asking nurses if they need help😖.

☆ jean kirstein

UGH TERRIFIED FOR YOUUU

he has to hype himself up before going to see you in hospital because it just breaks his heart.

but being able to see you, hug you, know that you’re being taken care of makes him feel wayy better.

he’s just happy to see that you’re not too badly injured.

just a sprain from training!

he likes to draw things for you from the outside

or you guys draw together.

yk that cute game where one person draws a squiggle and the other person has to make into a drawing?

yeah, you guys do that. and it’s frickin adorbs😡

☆ connie springer

you went to do some late night training by yourself

and cornelius found you on the ground. in a lot of pain.

he rushed you to the first aid

fastest anyone has EVER seen that man run

you got cleaned up but had to take a break from training until you were better.

definitely tries to make you laugh all the time

even with your injury, he still wants to see you happy and smiling 🤍

☆ sasha braus

aw bless her cotton socks.

your injury wasn’t fatal enough to warrant a hospital stay

but the nurses said to stay home and rest up!

you had to take care of your scar

in her own time, sasha headed over to first aid to ask the nurses how to help you properly☹️.

you literally do not lift a finger!!

she does everything for you, like cleaning it up, wrapping it up etc.

and she’s really good at it and all…

☆ reiner braun

he’s like a scared little boy.

he’ll sit by your side and tell you it’s all okay

but when he’s alone.. HE GETS SO UPSET

sometimes he’ll take ‘bathroom breaks’ just to pull himself together because he hates seeing you in this state :(.

really affects his everyday life

but he hides it well.

BIGG celebrations as soon as you’re out of hospital

is literally like a servant, will get you everything and anything you want.

☆ bertolt hoover

GAH SO ANXIOUS!!

he bakes you cookies for being so brave☹️.

he stays with you all day long until the nurse finally tells him he has to go.

it breaks his heart leaving you but he gets up bright and bloody early to see you in the morning

like i’m talking the second the hospital opens up.

☆ annie leonhart

she’s not nervous,

your injury wasn’t fatal or anything.

she’ll still visit you, of course ;)

she also makes sure to tell you how brave you are

since you are scared of hospitals.

she’ll giggle at your wimpy-ness though.

like you were getting patched up and you were just like trying not to scream

and she was just standing there chuckling at you.

☆ levi ackerman

so so so scared, secretly.

he has lost one too many people

but to lose you? that would completely and utterly BREAK him.

it was a pretty gnarly injury as well…

which was rather terrifying for both you and him

but he’ll keep a cool persona around you.

if he’s unable to visit due to work, he’ll ring the hospital and asks how you are.

he’ll always make time to come see you though, no matter what!!

☆ erwin smith

he hears from his assistant that you’ve been put into hospital

he runs STRAIGHT over and makes sure to comfort you.

he’ll stay till dark when you’re asleep and pay the nurses a visit too

he asks them to take extra good care of you.

if he’s unable to see you, he makes sure to call you up every single day

or at least have SOMEONE come check on you.

☆ hange zoë

GAH!! FREAKS OUT!

hange has seen it all at this rate

but doesn’t seem to heavily affected.

they’ve never really had anyone close to them be extremely injured

they were sooo scared though :(.

it was really sad for everyone to see hange’s energy so low but

they couldn’t help it!!

all they could think about was their poor love in hospital :(.

when they’re around you though, they try to stay positive! and tells you all about their work to keep you both distracted.

[crimeronan]

i've seen a couple people in the notes of this very good post about fictional polyamory by @thebibliosphere say things along the lines of "oh, i've been doing it wrong :(" or "how do i know if i did this right??" or "i should probably give up and start over, i wrote this badly :(" and. no!!!!

(i AM seeing far MORE people say "oh, this clarified and helped me so much, i think i know how to fix issues i've been having with my own story" which. YES!!!!)

listen. if you're a monogamous person who's writing a polyamorous relationship, and you've been focusing mainly on The Triad and All Three Together All The Time as the endgame, that's literally fine. that's a perfectly acceptable and strong starting point for your plotting, imo. you do not need to give up on a story that you've started like this.

but the things discussed in the post Can and Should improve your execution!

you can keep the same plot beats and overall relationship arc 100%. polyamorous relationships are infinite in their formations, every one is unique. "basically a monogamous romance but with three people" Does exist, as a relationship type. you're not hashtag Misrepresenting (TM) poly people with it

BUT i do think it will help to read up on some poly people talking about how their relationships Differ from monogamous ones.

so i have outlined some basic important concepts about polyamory.

MORE IMPORTANTLY though, i've broken down some questions that you can answer throughout the writing process to strengthen your individual dyad relationships, your individual characterization, & your characters' individual feelings/experiences. this is a writing resource have fun

future kitkat butting in to say i spent over two hours writing this and it definitely needs a readmore. it is also NOT comprehensive. but everything should be pretty simple to follow! feel free to reblog if you find it helpful yourself or just want to reward me for how gotdan long this took KSLDKFJKDL.

i've grabbed quick links for a couple of the important concepts, some have SEO pitches in them but the info largely seems to be good. (if i missed anything Egregiously Gross on these sites i should be able to update the links with better ones later, since they're under the readmore.)

sidenote: this is NOT meant to be overwhelming, despite the length. if you can't read all of this, that's Okay. you do not need to give up on your writing.

here we go:

compersion!

compersion is a BIG thing in a lot of polyamorous relationships. it's joy derived from seeing two (or more) of your partners happy together, or joy derived from seeing your partner happy with someone else.

compersion is really important as a concept because it highlights that every individual relationship within a polycule is different -- and that that's a GOOD thing. it's sort of the inverse of jealousy.

by the "inverse of jealousy," i mean that instead of feeling left out and upset and possessive, you feel happy/joyous/content.

i can use personal experience as an example: it's a Relief for me when my partners receive joy/support/sex/romance/etc that i can't (or prefer not to) give them. and i love seeing my partners make each other laugh and be silly together.

it's 100% okay for a poly triad not to be together 100% of the time, it doesn't mean that the third member is being left out or not treated equally when two people do things alone together.

(i have individual dates with my partners all the time! PLUS larger 3-and-4-person date nights.)

if the third member DOES feel jealous or left out, then the polycule can have a conversation to figure out what needs/wants aren't being met, and solve that. this happens semi-regularly in my polycule, as it will happen in any relationship (including monogamous ones)! it's just part of being an adult, sometimes you have to talk about feelings.

metamours!

a metamour is someone who is dating your partner, but ISN'T dating you. this may not be relevant for people writing closed three-person romantic sexual triads, but it's a super helpful term to know.

the linked article also lists different types of metamour relationships with some fun phrasing i hadn't heard before. the tl;dr is: sometimes you'll be domestic cohabitation friends, sometimes you'll be buddies with your own friendship, sometimes you might not interact much outside of parties, every relationship is different.

there's no one-size-fits-all requirement for metamour relationships. sometimes polyamorous people will end up dating their metamour after a while (has happened to me), sometimes polyamorous people will break up with one partner for normal life reasons, but remain friendly metamours.

the goal of polyamory is NOT for EVERYONE to fall in love. it is 100% okay if this happens in your story, it happens in real life too! but it is also 100% okay for characters to be metamours without ever becoming "more than friends."

(sidenote: try to kill any internalized "more than" that you have when it comes to friendship. friends are just as important and special and vital as partners.)

of course there are a million ways for messiness to occur with metamours within a complex polycule, exactly like with close-knit platonic friend groups. however this post is not about that! there's enough "here's how polyamory can go wrong" stuff out there already, so i'm focusing on the positives here :)

open versus closed polyamorous relationships!

i'm struggling to find an online article that reflects my experience without directly contradicting at least SOME stuff. so i'll give a quick rundown

google has a bunch of conflicting definitions of open relationships and whether open relationships are different from polyamory. the general consensus seems to be that an open relationship prioritizes one partnership (often a marriage), but that each partner can have extraneous flings or long-term commitments (most often sexual in nature).

this is not typically how i use the term wrt polyamory. the poly concept is pretty simple. a closed polyamorous relationship is one with boundaries like a monogamous one. there are multiple partners in the polycule, but they are not interested in having anybody new join said polycule.

an open polyamorous relationship tends to be more flexible -- it just means that IF someone in the polycule develops mutual feelings for a new person, it's fine for them to become part of said polycule if they want to! the relationship/person is open to newcomers.

some groups will need to negotiate this all together, others will just go "haha, you kids have fun." just depends on the individuals!

with open AND closed polyamorous relationships, the most important thing is making sure that there's respectful communication and that everyone is on the same page. but there's no one-size-fits-all way to do that.

i wish i could give you guys a prescriptive "You Must Do It This Way" guide, but that's.... basically the opposite of what polyamory is about, HAHA.

feelings for multiple people!

i was gonna tack this on to the previous section but decided it warranted its own lil bit.

a defining feature (....i'm told?) of monogamous relationships is that a monogamous person only has feelings for One individual at a time. they only want a relationship with one individual at a time. or, if they DO have feelings for multiple people simultaneously, they're still only comfortable dating one person at a time & being exclusive with that one person.

this is perfectly fine!

the poly experience is generally different from this. but once again..... polyamorous people all have different individual perspectives on this.

for me, i have never been able to draw hard boxes around romantic vs sexual vs platonic relationships, & i love many people at once. my personal polycule lacks many strict definitions beyond "these are my chosen people, i want to forge a life with them indefinitely, whatever shape that life takes"

some poly people feel explicit romantic or sexual attraction to multiple people at once, some poly people feel almost no romantic or sexual attraction at all. i'd say that MOST poly people feel different things for different partners, which is not a bad thing!

some poly people are even monogamous-leaning -- they have just chosen one romantic partner who is themselves part of a larger polycule. (so this monogamous-leaning person has at least one metamour!)

or alternatively, they might have one romantic partner AND a qpr, or other ways of defining relationships. (this is a factor in my own polycule!)

i made this its own point because if you're writing a straightforward triad, this is unlikely to come up in the story itself -- but it's worth thinking about how your characters develop/handle feelings outside of their partnerships.

like, is this sort of a soulmateship, 'these are the only ones for me' type deal? in which they won't fall in love with anyone else, and can be fairly certain of that?

that's pretty close to typical monogamous standards but you Can make it work. just be thoughtful with it

alternatively, can you see any of these characters falling in love Again after the happily-ever-after? and how would the triad approach it, if so? what would they all need to talk about beforehand, and what feelings would everybody have about the situation?

it's worth considering these questions even if the hypothetical will never feature in your actual canon, because knowing the answers to these questions will help you understand all of the individuals & their relationship(s) MUCH better.

i've been typing this for nearly two hours and there's a lot more i COULD say because... there's just a lot to say. i'll close out with some quick questions that you can ask yourself when developing the dyad dynamics within your triad

first, take a page and create a separate section for each individual dyad. then answer these questions for every pair:

how does each pair act when alone?

how do they act differently alone compared to when they're with their third partner?

are there any elements of this dyad (romantic, sexual, financial, domestic, etc) that these two people DON'T have with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

are there any boundaries or hard limits within this dyad that aren't shared with the third partner?

if so, what are they?

partner 3 goes out of town alone for a few weeks. what are the remaining two doing in their absence?

(doesn't have to be anything special, it's just to get a sense of how the two interact on a day-by-day basis without the third there)

what is something that each partner in the dyad admires about the other -- that they DON'T necessarily see in the third partner?

what problem do These Two Specifically need to solve in the story before their relationship will work?

how is that problem DIFFERENT from the problems being solved within the other two dyads?

doing this for ALL THREE dyads is VITAL imo. that way, you develop complex and nuanced and different relationships that all have unique dynamics.

those questions should be enough to get you started, i hope

then After you've charted the differences in relationships, you can start to jot down similarities in the overarching triad. what does one person admire in Both of their partners? what are activities that all three like to do together? what are boundaries or discussions that all three share?

but the main goal is to figure out how to Differentiate each relationship!

a polycule is only as strong as the individual relationships within it. if two people are struggling with their own relationship, adding a third person won't fix that.

(UNLESS the third person is the catalyst for those two to, like, Actually Communicate And Work Their Shit Out. i just mean that the old adage of "maybe if we just add a third-" works about as well to fix a miserable non-communicative marriage as, uh, "maybe if we have a baby-")

AND FINALLY.

if you're not sure whether your poly romance reads organically to poly people, you can hire a sensitivity reader with poly experience. if you can't afford that, you can read up on polyamorous resources like a glossary of terms & articles actually written by poly people. (and stories written by poly people!)

you can also just.... ask poly people questions, if they're open to it. i like talking about polyamory and my own relationships so you're welcome to send asks if u want, i just can't guarantee i'll answer bc my energy levels fluctuate a lot and i don't always have time.

polyamorous people are in an uphill battle for positive representation right now & so the LAST thing i want to see is authors giving up on their stories bc they're worried about getting things Wrong. well-meaning and positive stories that treat this kind of love as normal, healthy, & aspirational are So So So Needed. even if you guys end up with some funky-feeling details.

seriously, if you're monogamous then you probably don't have a full idea of Just How Nasty a lot of people can get about polyamory. i wish it DIDN'T mean so much for you guys to want to write nice stories about us, but it does mean a lot. and it means a lot that you want to do it WELL.

in conclusion. this is not a prescriptive guide, it's just a way to raise questions. and also, you all are doing FINE.

[7brownsuga7]

Can you write a fanfic of yandere jk or taehyung with reader as their daughter in law whose husband can't get her pregnant because he is suffering from Azoospermia (low sperm count) but their family is really strict about continuing their family line, as he is their only son so jk or tae decided to take matter into their own hand. Please consider this!! I am really looking forward to it.

Hey!! Omg I found writing this so fun, I hope you like it as much as I liked writing it! I couldn’t decide on Jk or Tae lol I’m indecisive as fuck.

Tae|JK

Word count: 2k +

Genre + warnings: smut drabble- minors DNI. Smut, angst, unprotected sex, breeding, daddy kink, yandere, infidelity, taboo, forceful, dominance, praise kink, he kind of takes advantage of her??? But consensual

Updated: pt.2 here

“Shhh, you’re doing good sweetheart”

You would have never thought you’d hear those words come out of your father-in-laws mouth, matter of fact you never thought he’d be fucking you in the same room you share with your husband.

When your husband told you about his situation, you couldn’t help but to feel overwhelmed with so many emotions. You sat on your bed crying your eyes out at the situation you and your husband were in. Although it was a personal situation between you and your husband, it also meant that his family line had a low chance of continuing, and you knew how strict his parents were about that. You was currently somewhat home alone, your husband having stormed out and wanting some alone time and his mother out for a dinner with her friends. His father was probably somewhere in his office like he is most of the time.

You muffle your cry with your hand, tears staining your burgundy night dress as you lay back and let your cries sing you to sleep.

During the night after a long and stressful phone call with his son does your father-in-law walk into your room to see you asleep in your dress, bare thighs exposed for his wondering eyes to see. His cock hardens just from the sight of your ass peaking out from under your dress.

You look so innocent and sad. Hurt and lonely. If only you knew of the things he could provide for you. He’d never let you lay here alone, tears staining your cheeks.

He was already furious with his son, yes the situation not being his son’s fault at all, but now he had to take things into his own hands for the sake of continuing his family line. He would never admit it was also a reason to fuck you. Something he’s been longing for since his son brought you to their home. He had an infatuation with you. He’d touch himself just thinking about your pussy wrapped around his cock. The fact that you was so innocent and oblivious to his intentions made him all the more crazed. He couldn’t pass up the opportunity to fuck you, it was a miracle waiting to happen.

He reaches the bed, your below him unaware of his cock that hardens in his black slacks. His large hand caresses your leg, feeling the goosebumps that appear instantly. He smiles when your eyes flutter open, his hand coming up to your cheek to softly stroke it.

“I’m here” he coos, sitting down next to you on the bed.

“I don’t know what we’re going to do” you admit. Your eyes watering again just from the mention of the situation. You stare up at him with your wet eyelashes, and all he can think about is how you would look watching him as he shoves his cock down your throat. He knew he’s being insensitive towards the situation, but he can’t help himself to think these thoughts when he’s around you.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ll sort it out” you sniff at his reassuring words. It’s as if you’re talking to your husband right now. The resemblance is so uncanny. The tears that stream down your face are wiped away by his fingers, his suggestive words of, “I know, I know” and “come here” calm you down a bit.

You scoot closer to him, unaware of his intentions as his hands creep up your dress towards your bare pussy. You sniff, holding back a moan as his fingers brush against your wet folds.

“Let me make everything better” his lips brush against your neck. You nod, biting your lip as his finger enters you.

So tight and wet, just as he expected.

His finger works its way in and out of you, his eyes on you as you continue to breathe heavily at the use of his fingers. As much as he wants to continue this, his main goal is to fuck you. To breed you matter of fact. He can’t wait to fill you up, to feel your bare pussy wrapped around his cock as he fucks you. He was pissed that his son had gotten to you first. But he’d be the actual one to breed you and that was more than he can ask for.

“Lay back for me love” he urges, too eager to stretch you out with his cock.

You comply, dress bunched up as you scoot back on the bed. His tall frame leaning over you as he watches you in awe. Your bare pussy open for him to see. It glistening under the dim bedroom lights from your wetness. What he would do to taste you, but he knows he has priorities. Hopefully another day.

His hand moves your legs apart, properly exposing you for his hungry eyes to see. He eagerly unbuckles his belt and allows his cock to breathe from the tight space it was in in his slacks.

He strokes his cock along your folds, collecting your juices before he lets his tip enter your tight pussy. It’s like the air is sucked out of you when the rest of his big, hard cock enters you. Stretching you out just like he wanted. It pushes into you and you lay there wondering how much more of him is left, you can barely take what is left inside you.

Tight.

So tight.

Every inch that pushes into you, stretches you out so gracefully you’re a whimpering mess. He grabs your thighs and pulls you to the edge of the bed. His strokes becoming more hard and fast as you adjust to his size.

“I’ve been waiting for this for so long” he coos.

He can’t believe how good you feel. Your walls closing around him with every stroke. Your tight walls gripping around him has him ready to risk it all. He never knew just how addicting you could be. He’s so eager to fuck you. As each whimper leaves your lips, his hips move at a more forceful speed. He’s unable to hold himself back and he’s not even ashamed of it. He’s not sure if this is the only time he’ll get to fuck you so he wants to make the most out of it before this night comes to an end.

“Shhh, you’re doing good sweetheart”

Your breasts fight to spill out of your dress as his thrusts cause your body to jolt.

You cry.

You cry because of the sting you feel caused by his cock stretching you out. The pleasure you feel making it almost unbearable for you to take any more. His strokes so precise and officiant that your moans turn into cries all together.

You cry because you feel guilty, but it’s too good to stop now.

He sees you cry and wonders why. He’s aware that he’s taken advantage of your weakness, you being fragile has allowed him to take advantage of this situation, and he’s happy that he did. His dreams and fantasies coming true.

“It’s okay, daddy’s got you”

His thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away your tears before he leans down and grabs your thighs, lifting you up with his cock still inside you.

“Please ugh” you choke out as his hands grip onto your ass, lowering you down his long hard length. You try to lift yourself up, unable to take him, but he just lowers you back down at a quicker speed.

“P-please I can’t” his cock continues to penetrate you which leaves you gasping for air, tears still running down your cheeks as he completely takes over.

Your pussy is soaking, running down your thigh and onto his pelvis. The slushing sounds you create prove that.

“Look at how you take my cock so well” his neck bends down slightly to capture your breast in his mouth as he sucks on it. You let out a moan, your pussy clenching around him causing his moves to falter.

“Fuck you’re so tight” he nips at your nipple which causes you to yelp in surprise, especially when he slaps your ass.

He throws you back on the bed. Your dress barely covering your body anymore as your breast spill out from it, the dress bunched up around your waist exposing your lower half to him. You’re a panting mess, not knowing what he’s going to do next as he slowly walks over to the bed, dark eyes watching you like you’re his prey.

“Lay on your stomach and arch your back for me princess”

If only he could have you in every position known to man, he would in a heartbeat. He wants to fuck you in every position his son has had you in. However, time is of the essence.

But when you lay before him, face down ass up, your head resting on your silk bed cover and hands placed helplessly in front of you as he enters you from behind, does he battle with himself to risk everything. Your bare pussy and ass exposed for him to see, and oh was it a sight. He’d only imagined what you’d look like bent over for him, but now he has the honor of having you for the night. His strokes are slow and precise. He’s managing to hit every spot so gracefully it already has your knees ready to give out. His large hands rest on each side of your ass, guiding your ass towards his hard length.

You whimper when he enters you again and again with more force. The way his fingers dance along your bare back have your toes curling and you wonder if you’ll be able to recover from tonight. He readjusts your dress so that it slightly covers your ass, but it only slides back down your back with every move he makes. The way you feel wrapped so tightly around him has him ready to risk it all, your juices coating his cock with every stroke while you grip around him.

“You’re such a good girl, hmm?” He bites his bottom lip as he watches his cock go in and out of you, your pussy gripping onto him in ways that make his head spin. His cock can’t even go all the way in, he chuckles to himself at the thought of you whimpering when he hasn’t even got all of him in you. Your moans and whimpers are like music to his ears, encouraging him to fuck you recklessly.

“Such a good girl letting daddy fuck you like this”.

Your arms stretch out in front of you grasping onto your covers in a somewhat pathetic attempt to relieve yourself from his thrusts. You try to escape, moving your hips forward but with his firm grip on your hips, you’re not going anywhere.

“Don’t run, show me that you can take it”

You’re sensitive and overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure you’re receiving, with the added force it’s a whole new experience for you. You’ve never been fucked like this, even by your husband. You’re unsure if you should even be thinking about him right now with his father fucking you as recklessly as this.

Your moans are muffled by the bed covers , your grip on them tightening as you can feel him in your stomach. Your orgasm is quickly approaching with each thrust. It’s when he grunts and slaps your ass that has you weak, but when he rubs your puckered hole with his thumb, that’s when you lose what’s left of your composure. You start mumbling your words, edging further and further up the bed as you try to escape his cock that continuously rams into you. Pussy clenching as your orgasm subsides, you yelp out when you become overly sensitive.

“Please please please, i”

He pushes you down by your back, forcing you to lay on your stomach, his hand grabs your hips adjusting them so your ass is slightly up. You’re silent as he slowers his pace, providing you with slow strokes that have you lost for words. You’re sure you’re going to cum again. He watches as his cock disappears in you. He can watch you take him all day.

“You’re so wet sweetheart, look at you” you feel his hands grabbing your wrists and holding them in place as he is positioned on top of you, him sliding into you from behind. You’re so fucked out you can’t utter a full sentence, just mumbles and whimpers. He’s so big and he’s stretching you out completely. You’re tired and are surprised that you’re able to take him let alone take him for this long. You collapse on the bed, knees giving out causing you to be laid flat out on the bed. He holds his cock, guiding it in and out of you, watching as your juices mix with your cream coating the base of his cock.

“Fuck y/n” he looks up at the ceiling trying to prolong his orgasm that he knows is approaching. He doesn’t want this to end just yet, but the way you lay in-front of him, your sensitive pussy stretching around him, he knows he’s close.

You both continue in that position, his grunts continuing as he uses both arms to keep himself up. A slap to your ass is delivered before he tells you to turn around. You comply chest rising as you watch him guide his cock along with your entrance. He watches you with low eyes, as you watch him back. Your breaths in sync as you wait for him to slide it back in. And he does, so slowly it’s almost agonising. You both watch as he enters you, you can’t believe how big he is. He stops when he’s mostly inside of you, his hand holding the rest of his length as he guides it in and out. He closes his eyes for a moment, unable to watch your eyes and your lips and the way your face is still stained in tears. You’re intoxicating.

He lifts your legs up so they are both in the air, allowing him more excess to your pussy. What a sight it is, the way it’s swollen and glistens before him. The way it wraps around him so perfectly he’s sure your pussy was made just for him.

He watches you with so much intensity that your eyes flutter closed. “Open them for me, I want you to watch” you nod watching him before you look down and watch each thrust.

You know he’s close when his thrust become more intense, he shoves his cock deep inside you not caring about your sensitivity. His skin collides with yours, creating no room for you to escape his thick length. You can’t believe that your orgasm is approaching again, you don’t know how much more you can take, you’re already fucked out.

His eyes never leave yours, the intensity and lust behind them, and the way he’s buried deep inside you causes shivers to run down your spine as your legs shake. “Good girl, let it out, let it out” he coos as he strokes your cheek.

It all becomes too much for you, your words and breath stuck in your throat. You feel everything so intensely.

“Shh, you got it. Im almost there”

And with a few more strokes, he is because you feel his cock twitch and a warm liquid engulf you. “Fuuuck”. He continues for a moment, riding out his orgasm. Eventually he pulls out, and you both watch as his load drips out from inside of you. He hold his dick in his hand and allows his red sensitive tip to rub against your hole, his cum coating his tip. “Look at that” he smirks.

“I told you I’d make everything better”

[daybrightsims]

Alright, they've lived in my brain too long; Time to air out my thoughts about the polyamory in BG3

To give a little context: I am currently ethically non-monogamous with my primary partner of almost 7 years. I am not a monolith of thought when it comes to polyamory/ENM/open relationships. These are my own personal thoughts and feelings. I've also completed the game with Astarion and Halsin romanced. Spoilers ahead, read at your own risk.

TL;DR - I don't share the current opinion of whether or not Astarion is okay with Tav pursuing Halsin and the discourse around his agency and choices in the relationship are bumming me out and frustrating me.

I am getting increasingly frustrated about the conversation about Astarion being polyamorous/okay with Tav being with Halsin in the game, primarily because I think a lot of the "think pieces" are coming from 1) monogamous people who have only ever been monogamous, 2) monogamous people who have been burned/cheated on/forced into polyamory by a partner (I feel for ya'll, that wasn't okay), 3) people who are very VERY protective of Astarion, and 4) people who are blatantly uncomfortable with polyamory. My goal is not to invalidate anyone's experiences, but to share an alternate perspective.

I do think that Astarion is not only okay, but happy with Tav dating Halsin. I glean this from how he responds to being poly with ANY OTHER companion. If you ask him to share with literally anyone else, he will say no and give his reason.

Gale: He doesn’t want to be in a love triangle (which with Gale, it would be).

Lae’zel: He’s uncomfortable and Lae’zel would kill him (also true).

Wyll: He knows Wyll is old fashioned and monogamous.

Karlach: He knows Karlach’s feelings for you are strong and he doesn’t want to stand in the way of that (he even says he’d be cool with an arrangement but knows Karlach will need all of your affection based on what she’s been through).

Shadowheart: He would be cool IF Shadowheart had more experience and ya’ll were together longer. But he knows Shadowheart is fragile in her current state.

Minthara: He REALLY doesn’t like this idea and will dump you immediately.

I did also see that ***SPOILER*** they updated or are updating some of the spawn Astarion language to have issues with your affair with Mizora should you pursue it, and it requires a persuasion/deception role to keep you two together.

Up to this point in your relationship with Astarion, he has become more comfortable voicing his opinions and concerns with you. He is learning to value his autonomy and his non-physical relationships. He will tell you when he doesn’t want to do something. In fact, he’ll break up with you over pushing his boundaries. He is fine with you pursuing the Drow twins and fine with you sleeping with Haarlep, even comforts you when Haarlep uses your form. So when he says he is okay with you pursuing Halsin, he means it. Yes, he voices his insecurity with you that you may be pursuing Halsin because you and he haven’t had sex in a while. But he acknowledges that Halsin has experience in this arrangement and doesn’t pose a threat to your relationship. Plus, if you kiss Halsin in front of him, he’ll say “don’t mind me, I’m just enjoying the show.”

To me, the idea that this is the ONE thing that Astarion doesn't have agency over in an arc of showing he can speak up for himself is you sleeping with Halsin is an idea that takes more agency from Astarion. He is a grown man. A 240 YEAR OLD man. That trauma he's endured does not mean he needs to be babied or coddled because he can't make his own choices. I think that's an unfair assumption to put on him that Halsin and Tav being together is the ONLY thing he can't enforce his boundaries on.

If he didn't want you to be with Halsin, he would say no like every other monogamous character in the game.

If you want a good example of someone saying yes just because they want to keep you, look at Karlach. You can tell she is HEARTBROKEN when you ask her, but she says “I don’t want to lose you”. That is not an enthusiastic participant in a polyamorous relationship. Astarion says “yeah, go for it! Just give me some reassurance”. Polyamory is not immune to insecurity. I've asked for reassurance in my own relationships and so has my primary partner. That’s not unenthusiastic. That’s realistic as shit. If you ask him about the relationship after you finish his questline, he doesn’t need reassurance because you’re having sex again. That’s also super realistic.

Am I sensitive to this as someone who practices ENM? Almost certainly. It's hard to see a lifestyle I live be villainized and claimed to be "forced" onto characters. I was actually really excited that I could pursue both Astarion and Halsin, and that Halsin places so much importance on consent and not misleading your partner. And it sucks SOO much to see one of my favorite characters be reduced to "oh, he's only doing it because he's afraid to lose Tav." It makes me almost feel bad for liking the interactions between them and enjoying to option. Do I think people mean to make me or other poly people feel bad? No.

But it does.

Headcanons are headcanons. I get it. People are absolutely allowed to interpret the poly aspect of BG3 how they want to. People are allowed to feel uncomfy with how it's portrayed and not pursue it. But it still bums a queer ENM Astarion and Halsin lover out.

Now excuse me whilst I live out my Astarion x Halsin x Tav polycule fantasies in the form of fanfiction.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍: Office Sex w/ Aaron Hotchner

a/n: okay, why do i kind of love this? i've been a little under the weather recently so kinktober updates will be a little slow and probably off by a day or two but i'm trying!

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

You make Aaron act out of character.

He doesn't do PDA, nor is he an insatiable man, but he often finds himself thinking of you and the curves of your soft body. 

He can barely focus knowing that there was no else in your unit besides you and him. You were down there in the bullpen tempting him with your presence, lingering at your desk doing paperwork as well. 

The clock ticked tauntingly, signaling that the time had struck 12 AM. 

He felt his hands twitch, the one clad with a pen turning almost white. There was no one else here and he needed you. Badly. Technically it wasn't unprofessional because the two of you were in a consenting sexual relationship, and it was after hours.

You couldn't focus knowing that Aaron was up there, the deep orange glow of his desk lamp bleeding through his barely opened blinds. Your core ached and your stomach tightened with indescribable need. There were only so many times that you could cross your legs and squeeze your thighs against your sex before you got restless.

You hadn't realized how deeply you'd zoned out before your eyes met with your boss's, who peered down at you from the top of the staircase.

He called your name, "I'd like to see you in my office for a moment." Was all he said before departing back through the door ajar he left ajar.

You tried to hide how fast you had gotten out of your chair, though the length in which it shot away from your person was a dead giveaway. Your shame melted away when your foot met the first step, descending up the stairwell in a hurried manner.

You hadn't even had the chance to enter through the door before Aaron's large, warm hand gripped you by your wrist, pulling you into the room before shutting the hardwood with your body.

"Aaron!" You yelped in surprise. "Need you." Was all he mumbled before slamming his lips down onto yours, hands gripping at your waist. Your eyes quickly fluttered shut, your nails digging into his hair to keep him anchored to you. 

His tongue forced its way into your mouth, nearly shoving itself down your throat in an attempt to swallow you whole. A loud whimper crawled out of your throat and into Aaron's, the man swallowing it with lustful fervor. Your lungs were constricting in pain at the lack of air, spit bubbling at the corner of both your lips due to the sloppy makeout session.

You had to yank his head away from yours to swallow lungfuls of air.

"I wondered how long it was going to take you to come and get me." You said breathlessly. "I didn't come early enough." He said with the same amount of breathlessness. "Good thing were the only ones here, huh?" You teased with a slightly wolfish smile on your face. "Yeah, good thing." He said before joining your lips together again.

He was careful as he swayed you over to his desk, carelessly knocking things out the way so he could sit you upon it. You jolted at the sound but nonetheless kept your lips locked with his, your fingers making quick work to push his suit jacket off his body. 

Your pencil skirt was tight around your thighs, but that didn't stop him from forcing it up your hips. Your panty clad lower body was now exposed to his frisky touches, a large palm coming to cup your sex.

You gasped, arching your back slightly, your grip on his tie tightening. 

"Fuck…" You whined, gyrating your hips desperately in an attempt to grind down on the skin. "That feel good, sweetheart?" He asked roughly, his voice strained with need. "So good, baby." He watched you feebly try to get friction, only to see you grow frustrated. 

"Aaron please— 'Need you to fuck me now." You begged, yanking at his tie in an attempt to undo it. His bushy brows furrowed, "Are you sure?" He asked unsurely. "Yes, I'm sure. I know you can feel how wet I am, please…" To emphasize your point, you took it upon yourself to shove his hand down your panties, the pads of his fingers gliding over your soaked folds.

"Okay, okay," He reassured you with gritted teeth, his voice strained. "I got you, honey." He could feel his self-control chip away at every exposure of your boldness. 

He unbuckled his pants, sliding the leather out of their loops before unzipping his and successfully ridding himself of his slacks. You shucked your panties down your full thighs, the lace getting caught on your high heel for a short moment before fully slipping off.

He spread open your legs.

"Goddamn, sweetheart." He murmured in fascination. The sight of your glistening labia made his cock pulse. He felt the same sense of urgency that he felt not only minutes earlier rush through him. The fire in his veins coaxed him out of his underwear, hand stroking his cock to full hardness.

"Can I?" He asked. "Yes." You breathed.

With a teasing tap of his tip to your clit, he prodded at your entrance, slowly slipping into you. You moaned loudly, nails coming to dig at his button-up covered shoulders.

"Aaron baby…" You mewled, walls clenching down on him in an attempt to suck him deeper. "Shit." He choked on a curse. He pushed farther before completely bottoming out.

"Move! I need you to move." You cried. Who was he to deny you?

Pulling out swiftly, he slammed into you. Your legs tightened around his waist as he set a brutal pace. You leaned back on your elbows, neck extended and exposed. If only Aaron could bend down to mark up your pretty, soft skin.

Your heel was hanging on by a thread on the tips of your toes, with each rattle of your body when he fucked into you threatened to knock the damn thing off.

"You look so gorgeous, honey. So fucking pretty." He groaned. The feral noise drove you closer to your end, along with each jab of his tip to your g-spot. 

"You're so deep, Aaron, fuck!" The coil in your gut was tightening dangerously. He raised your hips a bit and that sent you reeling, a pornographic moan tearing through your throat and piercing through the serene air of his office.

Usually when you got this loud in places where you could get caught, he'd slap a hand over your mouth, but he didn't bother, because there was no one there. There was something erotic and scandalous about the fact that he was fucking you in his office where he'd have meetings or interviews. 

Just thinking about the fact that no one would know what happened here besides the two of you sent his hips pistoning into you harder; his eyebrows furrowing.

"Gah! I- I'm gonna cum!" You squealed, nails attempting to grip onto the wood of his sleek, dark mahogany desk. You didn't care if there'd be marks there.

"Please can I cum?" You asked through the blinding pleasure that nipped and frayed at your nerves. You couldn't bring yourself to disobey him because of how needy and demanding you've been since you'd gotten here.

"You can cum, my sweet girl." He grunted, a bead of sweat running down his temple. 

With a few more strokes your orgasm overtook you. Your body shook uncontrollably, your eyes screwing shut at the feeling as you creamed all over his dick.

His thrusts grew sloppy before he slumped forward, emptying himself inside of you. The warmth of him made you shiver, your womb feeling nice and full. He stopped his thrusting when he heard tiny whimpers of overstimulation leave you.

"You okay?" Aaron asked gently. You nodded, your chest heaving up and down.

"Can we go on the couch next?" You asked through a sleepy smirk.

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @murdadixon @hallecarey1 @zippertwat @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[noiriarti]

The Winner Takes it All: Anakin Skywalker x Reader (Enemies-to-Lovers Modern AU) | Chapter 6

NSFW! Minors DNI!!! Summary: The moment the thesis competition was announced, you knew your biggest threat. Anakin Skywalker, golden boy of the engineering department. He's the only other person smart enough to beat you, and the only other person insane enough to stay in the lab until midnight every night. He's also an asshole, but you're starting to think maybe he's not as bad as you thought he was... Pairing: Anakin Skywalker x Fem!Reader CW: a lot of jerking off WC: 8.4k AN: thank you all for your patience!! i started grad school so i got a bit busy, but now i will update about once a week! thank you all for the love :) also i am so sorry about all the angst

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, [Ch. 6], Ch. 7, Ch. 8

Chapter 6: Tearing

The afternoon sun filtered through his window shade and cast his room in its warm glow, but Anakin was too busy with his notes on his desk to notice. He needed something to do with his hands, just to keep himself focused, to keep his thoughts from wandering to you. To answer a practice problem, he was trying to find a specific case of heat diffusion the class had discussed--somewhere in October, he thought, but he wasn't quite sure. His desk was already messy before he began studying, but he was making it even worse with a paper thrown here, a staple there.

His eyes scanned the paper this way and that, trying to absorb any iota of information, but the words were slippery, wily things that wriggled out of his grasp. In the end, it turned out he had flipped past the page several times without seeing what he needed, and he finally found it on his fifth pass. Subconsciously, he dug his nails into his palms in frustration. Why couldn't he work? Why were you doing this to him?

His phone chimed, a text from his mom. Hey, how are finals? Doing okay?

For a few days, he'd been ducking questions about whether he was sleeping or eating enough, because he knew she'd be disappointed with his answers. He was running out of ways to change the subject in phone calls, and he knew she was catching on. Anakin decided he should probably respond.

yeah, really stressed about one of them, rest are fine. thesis going ok.

A second later, his phone lit up again.

Good luck. I'm so proud of you, Anakin, no matter what. As soon as he read it, he dropped his head into his hands. His forehead was clammy under his fingers. Of course she was proud of him unconditionally. He knew that. But he knew that he would be even prouder if he won. If he got a 4.0 this semester. Once, after he said something like that to Ahsoka, she looked at him with that knowing expression only she could produce, and asked him if his mom had ever said anything like that. Technically, no, he conceded, but he couldn't let her down.

He just felt so stupid right now, looking at the pages blanketing his desk. He'd been sitting over them for too long, but he couldn't bring himself to get up and stretch or take a break. He couldn't bring himself to do anything, really, let alone focus. So he was trapped. All he could do was just sit there, drink his Red Bull, and kind of review until he could destroy this exam next week.

Anakin decided to try another practice problem. Maybe that would make it click.

The surface tension of liquid argon is given by--

His phone buzzed against the desk. Putting it on loud was a bad idea, and he knew it. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse. It was probably his mom, saying something else. Or, he hoped as his heart jumped, maybe you were coming from the lab early and wanted to meet and study. Or hook up. Or just talk. Whatever, as long as it didn't involve his textbook. His phone buzzed again. And again.

He gave in and opened it. It was you, he found, and he grinned like a lunatic, but caught himself. Then again, he was alone, so it didn't matter, really.

But then he read your texts.

Where are you We need to talk Now

He typed back immediately, his fingers flying faster than he thought they could.

in my room is everything ok?

He looked at the screen, saw the bubbles pop up that meant you were typing, then watched as they disappeared. Anakin was frozen, his phone in his hand. We need to talk could just have been a poor phrasing on your part, right? It didn't mean what he thought it did, right? He could deny it only for about five more seconds, when the little bubbles didn't return.

Fuck. Anakin let loose a string of curses and dropped his phone on his desk. He couldn't think of a single thing that would warrant ending… whatever the two of you had. But maybe you'd realized that he was doing a lot more than what fuckbuddies (fuckenemies?) should do, that he was an absolute wreck for you, and had been for a long time.

The caffeine was getting to him, and his leg was bouncing so quickly that he swore his downstairs neighbor would submit a noise complaint. His mind started racing with all the things he never would have told you, the things that would go unsaid if you ended what the two of you were doing. He'd never tell you that he had two dogs growing up, strays, or that his least favorite flavor of Skittles was orange. He'd never tell you that he was pretty sure that he hadn't felt this way about anyone, ever, and that he had laid awake for the past two nights thinking about how, if at all, he would tell you.

Ahsoka's voice echoed in his ears, wisps of sound urging him to just say something. His mind was racing, a million trains of thought all colliding at once. He should just tell you. He'd never learn your favorite kind of cereal. He hadn't responded to his mom, fuck. He regretted having that Red Bull. He'd never tell you that he called you baby during sex because he wanted to say it other times, too. The answer to that thermo question was probably 36 Joules. He'd never tell you that if you called him a pet name he'd melt and let you win any competition because nothing would matter anymore.

But that was precisely why he hadn't told you how he felt. Because if you felt the same way about him, that would be so much better than any amount of money or award. And that wasn't the kind of person he could be.

He'd spent so long training to control that wild hurricane of emotions that pulled him through everyday life. Anakin channeled it into perfectly neat parallelized circuits and technically exquisite poomsae, but around you it all let loose, angry and passionate and just so much.

It was terrifying. You were terrifying. And there was a selfish part of him that said that he deserved to let all those feelings loose for once. To feel as much as he wanted to feel because, goddammit, he was so tired of control.

But Anakin was a lot. A handful, his teachers always said. It was what ended his previous relationship, what drove Padme away. Would it drive you away, too?

If you walked up to him in two minutes and asked him what the two of you were, if it was just casual or something more, would he have the self-control not to blurt out exactly what he was thinking? His stomach flipped at the idea of you leaving the room, leaving his life, without knowing how he felt.

You walking away from him and disappearing into another part of the country after graduation would kill him. He was pretty sure that seeing you at a reunion in five years with someone on your arm, some beautiful person who you had never hated, would smite him on the spot.

He imagined himself six months from now, when the thesis was over. What would that Anakin want for himself? Would he let himself say something? Fuck it all, he would say. And he was right.

If you were going to end things, he was going to get this off his chest. He had to. He wasn't sure he could live with himself if he didn't.

The sound of knuckles on wood cut through the silent room like a dagger through his heart. One, two, three seconds passed as he sat in his desk chair, mind totally blank. He tried to produce a coherent feeling or, if he was lucky, an entire thought, but he came up empty.

Before, it was all something nebulous, something he could just worry about. Something he could stress about. Now, it was real. You were behind that door, and you needed to talk. And there was no escaping that. With heavy legs, he dragged himself to the door.

Anakin pretended not to notice that his hand was shaking when he wrapped it around the doorknob.

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The bus ride back to your dorm had been uneventful, other than the way you were staring daggers into the skull of some poor guy in front of you. He had the good sense to not turn around.

Anakin Skywalker is a thief. You clenched your fists, and you could barely feel the sting of your nails in your palms. Barriss wasn't one to lie, based on the past three years you'd spent with her. She told you the facts right after: she overheard one of the graduate students--probably Obi-Wan, but she didn't know who, just some vaguely hot older guy, she said--telling Anakin his idea for a thesis. And then Anakin ran with it.

If she was right, that changed everything. If Anakin really didn't come up with his own idea, that meant he had rigged the competition. He had a leg up this whole time. He really was exactly what you had thought for years. The golden boy of the department who had everything handed to him. And while you'd labored over choosing the perfect, most viable but impressive idea, he had just skipped right over that step. You'd cried over how hard it was to find a good idea, struggled for weeks on end last year, just trying to make something good, let alone great. And he was already weeks ahead of you in the competition.

All of his sweet gestures--staying with you in bed, holding hands in the library, getting you drinks--were suddenly less sweet. Last year, he was in the thesis lab with you, when he was working on his proposal, watching you go through ideas and get upset when they didn't work, and he knew that. And he never told you about where his idea came from, even when you were getting closer. He probably knew it would piss you off, and he still didn't tell you. He'd hidden it from you.

You didn't know if that hurt more or less than the unfairness of his advantage.

The bus slowed to a stop in front of your dorm, and you hopped off, then dashed to the elevator.

You just wanted him to tell you that Barriss was crazy, or misheard. Or anything. Anything to make it not true.

The elevator ride was agony as it whizzed up to his floor.

At his door, you hesitated. If you entered and fought, that made this real. So, so real. The second you walked through that door, everything between the two of you might change.

But you were too furious not to knock. Silence hung for a few seconds before you could hear the door unlock.

Anakin opened it to you, looking unfairly hot. Rage ripped through you as he looked at you with open affection, gesturing to enter his room, like nothing had changed. Like he wasn't lying to you all this time. You stormed in quickly.

"Anakin, I need you to be honest with me." Your voice came out tighter than you wanted as you searched his face for a reaction. He closed the door, then came to stand in front of you.

"I'm always honest with you," Anakin replied earnestly, keeping his gaze locked on yours as he forced a small smile.

You didn't smile back. "How did you come up with the idea for your project?"

"What?" Anakin blinked, caught off guard. He let out a breathy chuckle. "That--that's what you wanted to talk about?"

"Well?" You pressed, crossing your arms. The edge in your voice was obvious, cutting. You could see Anakin go through the stages of realizing what you might mean, and your stomach started to sink even deeper.

Anakin sighed, ruffling his hair in frustration. "I--Really? Okay, fine. There aren't currently any microsurgery tools that mimic human hands. They're all pincers. So I wanted to make one." Your gaze narrowed.

"And you're saying Obi-Wan had nothing to do with it?"

"What are you talking about?" It was probably supposed to sound confused, but it came out more scared. You knew him well enough to tell. God, he was infuriating.

"Did you or did you not get your idea from Obi-Wan?" The words came out like tiny daggers, sharpened steel that you spat at him. His face fell, and you could see the moment that he knew you knew.

"Look, it's not like that," Anakin said, his arms falling to his sides. His eyes were suddenly avoiding yours, like his desk suddenly contained some information he desperately needed, or, preferably an escape hatch.

"Then what is it like?" You shot back, your heart racing. You stepped closer, trying to find an answer in his furrowed eyebrows. "Why can't you just say no?"

Anakin's jaw clenched, and he was obviously searching for the right words. Words that wouldn't piss you off, probably. "Because Obi-Wan helped, I guess."

"You guess?!" Your voice cracked, incredulous.

"I mean--look." Anakin raised his hands defensively. "Sure, Obi-Wan put me on the path to it. But every second in the lab since then has been me. My design, my coding."

"What do you mean put you on the path? You mean he gave you the idea, don't you?" Your frustration with him was boiling over. Even now, he was defending himself, trying to evade this. Justifying. It drove you crazy.

Anakin hesitated, his words faltering. "I--It's not--"

"Are you seriously about to say that it's not that simple or something?" You interrupted, your voice shaking. You threw your hands up, your fury finally reaching its peak. "Because, from here, it looks simple. Like you stole your whole fucking thesis idea!"

"That's not true!" Anakin snapped, his voice louder now. It wasn't the same kind of anger you were used to seeing from him, it was defensive, almost panicked. "Obi-Wan, he just, he suggested I look at applying an old project of mine to microsurgery. And he was right. So, I guess, technically, if you're looking at it like that--sure. He gave me the idea."

You stared at him, his words sinking in. His admission hung between you like a guillotine, its rope finally snapped. The air felt tight, like you were ten thousand miles above sea level and there wasn't enough oxygen to keep you afloat.

Anakin shifted again, his anger gone, his voice softer, pleading. "It's like… I don't know. I guess I feel guilty about it. But I really needed to submit something that day, or I couldn't enter into the competition at all. It was the rules. If I don't do a thesis… I--I don't know. I just had to. And I figured I'd just use that temporarily, and pivot as soon as it was approved, It was in the end of junior spring, and I just couldn't find a topic that worked. That idea I had about hand prosthetics didn't pan out, and I was telling Obi-Wan about it in the lab, and he told me I should look at microsurgery, 'cause they have a lot of the same issues--calibrating movement to user input, holding up to wear and tear, dealing with friction and joint movement--and that I should do my thesis on it."

His eyes finally met yours again, so deep and blue that it almost made you reconsider. Almost. He was pleading, begging you to understand. "So, yeah, I submitted an early version of the idea Obi-Wan gave me. But every second of design, build, everything was me. It's my work."

You stood frozen, silent. After a few long beats, Anakin started to fidget, his hands wringing so hard that his knuckles turned white.

"If I could go back, I'd do something else. Anything else." Anakin's voice wavered, and his shoulders slumped under the weight of his guilt. "I just--I didn't know what else to do. I needed to submit something, anything. I need to win this," he finished, his voice trailing off.

The anguish over being proven right was something you didn't expect. You should have felt vindicated, that you were actually right all along about him. You should have hated him. But instead, you could feel your heart breaking, like a marionette with its strings cut, slumped over and lifeless. If he had just admitted it to you himself, maybe you could get over this. Maybe. But the fact that he hid it from you cut like a knife. Tears welled in your eyes, and your throat was drier than you'd ever felt it. The words fell from your lips softly, like you could barely get them out.

"How could you?" You felt like you'd never known him, like the person in front of you was a stranger. How could he be both this person, and the one who would keep you warm at night?

Anakin noticed the coldness of your gaze, and it gutted him. Anakin's breath caught, and you could see him shatter in real time. His cheek twitched, right under his scar, and you could swear you saw his eyes start to fill with tears. His hands were shaking where they were clasped together, and you were sure he was leaving indents with his nails. His shoulders shook under his panicked breaths.

He didn't speak for several long seconds, his mouth tugging this way and that as he tried to think of something, anything, to say.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" He asked as he stepped toward you, trying to seek reassurance to keep him from falling apart. But you couldn't give it. You didn't even know him anymore.

"I--" you opened your mouth, hesitating, before you restarted, "I don't know." Your voice cracked, but you hardened it. "I didn't before, but now I'm not so sure."

Anakin took another step closer, reaching out with his shaking hands as if to touch you, but you backed away. His face flushed even more, hurt and frustration jumping across his features. It made you even more angry. "This is so fucking unfair, and you just--you just let it happen."

He said your name, trying to jump in, but your anger surged, and it drowned him out.

"I spent weeks getting my idea just right." Each words was more brutal than the last. "Weeks. And you got everything spoon-fed to you. Everything I worked for--and you just took it from someone."

Anakin flinched like you had struck him, but you were far from done.

"I thought I knew you, I thought I was wrong about you this whole time," you spat, your fists clenching at your sides, "But I was right all along. You're just a fucking cheater."

A tear slipped down the side of his cheek as you continued. Your voice shook as you admitted to him, and to yourself, what the worst part really was. "And you didn't even have the decency to tell me. And that makes you a fucking asshole."

He shook his head, his eyes stinging as he started to speak. "No, please, it's not--"

"Stop it!" You shouted, your voice cracking with emotion. Anakin stood frozen, his outstretched hand falling limply to his side. Your breath rushed through your nose and your pulse beat in your ears. You couldn't even see him anymore through the tears, but you refused to let them fall. To let him see you cry.

He said your name one more time, begging, pleading. For a moment, you were tempted, but the hurt was too big to ignore.

Your voice was cold, distant. "Get away from me," you ordered. Your back was rigid with anger and hurt. "And leave me the fuck alone."

Without waiting for him to respond, you stormed out of the room and slammed the door behind you.

You stalked down the hall as quickly as you could, ignoring the buzzing in your pocket as the tears you were holding back finally poured down your cheeks. You didn't even have the energy to wipe them away, you just let them fall while you punched the button for the elevator.

Only when the door closed, and you pulled out your phone to call Ahsoka, did you see his messages.

please come back we can talk this out please give me another chance

They were all sent minutes apart. You could hear his voice reading them, desperate and thick with tears. Even though you were angry, angrier than you had ever been at him, the idea of him crying still made your chest ache. And then it made you feel vindicated. But then it made you feel horrible again.

You arrived back to the lobby, then crossed the building to the other elevator bank, trying to avoid the awkward gazes the students passing by gave you. You sniffled wetly, wiping away your tears, as you ran up the two flights of steps that brought you to your room. You unlocked the door as quickly as you could, then hid inside.

Your phone buzzed again.

i understand that you don't want to talk, but the second you're ready, i'll be here. i'll always be here.

The words made you sob loudly, and you were thankful for a moment that Ahsoka wasn't home. Until you saw the text, it hadn't hit you that this was the last time you'd talk for a while. You couldn't even remember the last kiss you two had shared. The library? Was that the kiss you wanted this to end on? You'd never see his half-lidded eyes as he worshipped you, never hear him call you baby again.

Why did he have to go and fuck it all up? You asked yourself, sobs wracking your body as you slid down the door. You couldn't tell if you were more sad or angry, but you were definitely heartbroken. Lately, his casual touches, his affection, the way you slept together every night, it was starting to feel like more. But it was all gone now.

You had been numbed with caffeine and stress, but the past week, you felt like you were soaring every time he touched you. Every time he gave you that intense look he always did.

But the two of you were just hooking up. It wasn't supposed to be anything more, and you never thought you'd feel the pull to be with him when you weren't fucking, but it was like gravity. Even now, you wanted him to comfort you. Not someone, but him.

The realization that you had feelings for him hit you like a truck. All the breath was gone from your lungs, gone to some other dimension.

You liked Anakin Skywalker. Even though he was an asshole. Even though he'd hurt you. But those feelings didn't end just because whatever you were had ended, they didn't leave you alone.

You could have been his girlfriend if he hadn't hidden this from you. And that was the last nail in the coffin that made you break down fully.

You sat there, crying, sobbing, wailing, for at least another half hour before you dragged yourself to the shower. It made you feel the tiniest bit better to have your hair clean, your tears scrubbed off your face until the skin went sensitive and ruddy. When the water turned off, it was cold, and you relished the shock to your system.

And then, you started the process of getting over him. You knew you had to do it eventually, and you only had to get through finals before you could go home and forget all about him. Come January, when you next saw him in the lab, it'd be like seeing any other classmate.

That thought was enough to make you start crying again while you stood in the towel you stole from your house. Your tears mingled with the water from the shower, and it was enough to let you pretend that you weren't crying, that becoming strangers with Anakin didn't kill you inside.

You promised yourself that this would be the last time you cried this semester. That night, if you felt the threat of tears, you just threw yourself harder into whatever you were studying. There was nothing else you could do.

At the thermo exam two days later, you walked in later than you usually would for a final that was this important. When you slipped into the class, two minutes before they started passing out test papers, you spotted Anakin in the corner. Because of course you did. Your eyes hadn't stopped finding him in every photo, in every room. He had always been magnetic, and, just because you weren't together anymore didn't mean that stopped. And he was looking right at you.

His gaze ripped through you with some mix of desperation, affection, and sorrow. Anakin looked, in one word, horrible. His eyes were sunken in, red and swollen from crying. Most people would not have noticed, but you knew him too well. His dark circles had come back with a vengeance, like fresh bruises on his otherwise smooth and clear skin. His mouth twitched when he looked at you, like he was going to say something, but he stayed silent as his eyes followed your path.

Throughout the exam, you could feel his eyes on you a couple of times, but you didn't allow yourself to turn around and look. You let the calm of equations and math wash over you, and soon there was nothing but the test. The questions and the precise way you wrote Greek letters in the blue book lulled you into a state of calm you desperately needed.

When you handed in your exam, you allowed yourself another look at Anakin, and then you left the building. You didn't see him before you went on break two days later.

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Two days before break, he saw you again. He hadn't changed his habits, still studied in the dining hall and had meals there, sometimes went to the library, and he secretly hoped, thrummed with anticipation, that maybe, just maybe, you'd be there too. That maybe you'd see him and realize you wanted to talk it out. That, obviously, did not happen. He spent an embarrassing amount of time awake, because you haunted his dreams whenever they came. The disgusted look on your face and the words I was right all along, you're a fucking asshole echoed in the back of his eyelids and his mind's eye whenever he laid down. So, he stayed up. More time to study, right?

He spent most of those 48 hours trying not to cry and failing miserably. Even when he broke up with Padme, it wasn't like this. He was angry, indignant, and, of course, sad, but it was the kind of sadness that settled deep on his shoulders and dulled the world around him. It wasn't the kind of sadness that wrenched sobs from his chest whenever he wasn't careful. It wasn't the kind of sadness that made him regret ever going to this college, ever meeting you.

Ahsoka cast him a funny look at him one night, when he fell asleep in a common room. She gently shook him awake, and noticed the redness rimming his eyes, and the way his hands shook from too much caffeine. She gave him a hug and made him promise to sleep tonight.

He did, and that was the night before the test. Every muscle and joint screamed in protest as he dragged himself from his bed. He arrived fifteen minutes early, just to make sure he got a good seat, and then his head kept swiveling like an owl. Every time the click of the doors opening echoed through the nearly empty lecture hall, he locked onto the person entering. He was pretty sure he'd accidentally given glares to at least four poor souls before you finally entered.

He resigned himself to the fact that he'd probably failed the exam right then.

You were even prettier than he remembered, and the depth of your eyes when you stared at him was enough to make him shudder. Even now, he'd give anything to be with you again. When you sat down and didn't look at him again for the next three hours, he felt bits of his heart break off and get trampled under equations about heat diffusion and air pressure. You turned in your test, and then left, and he looked after you longingly. His eyes snapped back to his paper when he got a weird look from the TA.

He turned in his exam paper, rushed home, and promptly passed out on his bed. You came to him in his dreams, of course. Naked in his arms, lips pliant and wanting under him. The way your tongue peeked out when you were too hard at work, or the shimmer of your eyes when he made you laugh. The betrayal on your face. Get away from me.

He spent the rest of finals in a fugue state, doing tasks and exams because he was supposed to. Then, finally, the last one passed, and he was finally released to go home. He hadn't seen you since the exam, and that was probably better for him, he reasoned.

On day 1 of break, Anakin drove the whole day and listened to absolutely depressing music the whole time. He pulled over once and, in a fit of rage, smacked the steering wheel a few times. How could he be so stupid? How was he this much of an idiot? He sat at the rest stop for another fifteen minutes, his sweaty forehead on the steering wheel. Five hours later, when he arrived home late in the evening, he hugged his mom. Everything felt a little bit better after that. He had dinner with Shmi and Cliegg, even though all he wanted to do was lay in bed and sulk. He fell asleep quickly--he was too exhausted to stay up torturing himself with what could have been.

On day 2 of break, he lay in bed and just generally moped around. He could never be still for long, so that meant getting up to eat snacks, flicking through TV shows listlessly, and trying not to look at the texts you two had exchanged. He only cried twice, once at the thought that you'd never meet his mom, and the other at the memory of your body in his arms as he fell asleep. Both reduced him to hot, silent tears.

On day 3 of break, he did yard work and drove by his old dojang to say hi to his high school coach. He ended up agreeing to teach some lessons over break to avoid having to sit at home alone with his thoughts for three entire weeks. Plus, the money was good. He was pretty sure he wouldn't be getting that thesis prize at all, at this rate. He only cried once, at night, when he thought about having to watch you work in the thesis lab without speaking to you. He wouldn't cross that boundary. You already knew he wanted to talk, and you hadn't texted him back.

On days 4-9, he taught three hours of lessons a day. It was calming, familiar. He only had to splash cold water in his face to avoid getting too upset two or three times per day, but the undercurrent of wondering what you were doing never stopped torturing him. He hadn't touched himself in at least two weeks, and he regularly had to stop his thoughts from drifting away to the last time he was inside you. Every time it happened at home, in bed, he got up and took a cold shower. It served him right. At the end of the week, he went to the mall and bought his mom a Christmas present with the money he earned. Just because he knew his mom wanted to blend their family better, he picked out something small he could afford for Cliegg, Owen, and Beru, too.

On day 10, it was Christmas Eve, so everything was closed. There was nothing to do, so he answered a few emails from Professor Jinn, cleaned the oven, and helped his mom prepare for Christmas dinner. There were files on his device he had prepared specifically to work on his thesis over break, but his project made him nauseous. He'd give it all back for a chance to start over. He'd get a B on his thesis if it would make this pain stop. He didn't touch the files, and, that night, when he finally gave in to the temptation to see if you'd posted anything on social media, he didn't touch his cock, either, even though just an image of you was enough to drive him wild at that point.

On day 11, it was Christmas, and he woke up at 4am in his bed, as hard as a rock. Anakin spent an hour tossing and turning and begging his body to just let him sleep, but, eventually he gave in. It was Christmas, right? He deserved a present. When he closed his eyes, he didn't even try to think of someone else. It was you. It had been for a while. Your little noises as he kissed up your neck, the scrunch of your eyebrows right as you came, and the tight grip of your pussy around him when he buried himself to the hilt inside you were enough to make him cum all over his hand within a minute. He found it embarrassing, honestly, that you had this effect on him. Anakin fell asleep quickly and tried not to feel too gross about what he'd done.

On day 11, attempt 2, he woke up around 11, right before lunch, and came down to wish his mother and Cliegg a merry Christmas. Beru and Owen were supposed to come for dinner, but, this morning, it was just the three of them. Anakin had no particular yearning for Cliegg to be a father figure, he just wanted his mom to be happy. If Cliegg did that, then he'd watch endless movies with the two of them, or get Cliegg a present. But if she didn't want to be with him anymore, Anakin wasn't sure he'd miss him. Their second anniversary was in three weeks, and it was a shock that it had been that much time already. When dinner rolled around, and he greeted Owen and Beru awkwardly, not sure what a person is supposed to say to a newly-acquired sibling. He'd seen them a sum total of maybe ten times, almost all of which had to do with the wedding, so they were in how-was-school and how's-the-new-job and gosh-the-winter-has-been-brutal territory. When Anakin gave them their presents, they seemed overjoyed. He'd gotten them matching scarves, each with their first initial embroidered onto it. It was a miracle they had them in stock at the mall, he thought, but the present seemed to hit the right spot. Cliegg got the aforementioned fishing pole, something his mom had told him he was prattling on about, and he got his mom a beautiful new winter coat. She had been mending hers for years, and water and snow would soak right through it, but when he saw the beautiful down puffer coat in the store window, he knew she'd love it. He was right.

Cliegg got him a Laser Distance Measure, which must have cost a pretty penny, and Owen and Beru got him various engineering gadgets (a nice mechanical pencil for technical drawings and a cable carrying case, respectively). His mother's gift, though, was something he'd never be able to forgive. She had bought him a beautiful, fresh Raspberry Pi set, with 8 GB of RAM. It wasn't the most expensive thing in the world, but the $150 or $200 that it did cost her was enough to make him tear up. He'd mentioned months ago that he was thinking of getting one for some personal projects, something for his portfolio, and she bought it. He had the good sense not to say anything like You aren't supposed to get me presents for Christmas and crushed her in a hug, the kind that whispered I know how much this is worth, and I'm so lucky you're my mom. For a second, he was worried he would cry when he saw the crow's feet appear by her eyes, and he felt how thin the skin on her hands had gotten. When had she gotten so much older? For a terrifying moment, he realized he'd have to live without her one day, but then Cliegg made some comment about how he'd made hot cocoa, and they all gathered around the living room to chat. As the last tendrils of sunlight fell beneath the swath of trees in their backyard, he laughed at something Owen had said, and he felt the tiniest bit less alone. Like maybe it didn't matter if he got an A in thermo or had the best thesis in his year. The notion left him quickly.

On days 12-17, the warm feeling had subsided, and all he could think about was what you were doing. Whether you were moving on, or if you still felt the same way he did. If you wanted him again. The fantasy of you seeing him again and realizing that, oh, actually, you wanted to work it out, and also kiss him, inevitably ended with his hand on his cock and cum on his stomach, then regret and shame for about an hour afterward. Once the studio had reopened, he kept teaching there, but with more hours this time. Also, Anakin could finally open the folder on his computer named Thesis without cringing at it, but barely. His heart still skipped about four beats when he thought about how he'd have to see you practically every day. He pushed thoughts like that from his mind as much as he could. No point in torturing himself more than the actual semester would.

Day 18 was New Year's Eve. He went to a party hosted by some of his high school friends, some rager at a frat house. He just wanted to get drunk, honestly, and this seemed like a great excuse. It was sticky and hot even right outside the door, but the sweaty blast of steam that hit him when someone opened it turned his stomach. But the beer was free, so he wouldn't complain too much. A couple of times, he noticed a girl checking him out over the bone-shaking bass. He might have made a move, if he were a different person. If any one of them was you, or had your smile, or your eyes. As soon as he noticed something that was too different from you, he averted his gaze. They were all cute, he supposed, but that didn't matter. They weren't you. When the countdown started, Anakin retreated, not interested in being pulled into some kiss that stunk of beer. Instead, despite knowing he'd regret it, he sent you a text. happy new year, it read. He blamed the tequila, and went back into the fray of cheering people.

From days 19-24, Anakin kept on keeping. Dishes, teaching, occasional progress on his thesis. He submitted over 20 job applications. Sometime in the week, in his daily rehashing of all your messages, he noticed the read receipt had popped up on his text from New Year's Eve, and he cursed himself. He was cursing himself a lot lately. Especially when he promised he wouldn't jerk off over you, but it always ended up happening. The subtle rock of his hips against the mattress when he thought of you, grinding the hard flesh against the soft material, then the sticky warmth of release and the rush of regret that always came with it. The heat of the shower made him hard when he thought about how he'd always wanted to try fucking in the shower, more specifically, fucking you in the shower. He really shouldn't, he reasoned while his hand pumped his dick.

Day 25 was spent driving again, after he gave his mom a big hug and threw his suitcase in the car. Despite himself, he realized that he was no more over you than he had been on his drive to his house. The fact that he would see you tomorrow still made him perk up and wilt at the same time. In a short twenty-four hours, you'd be real, three-dimensional in front of him again. He wasn't sure what would happen--would you kiss him? Slap him? Combust? He could never tell with you. He wondered if you'd cut your hair over break, or if you'd talked to Ahsoka about him. Whatever fantasies he'd been nursing, they were all going to be proven or disproven tomorrow. So he had to use the hour before he arrived on campus to imagine, as hard as he could, that you were in the passenger seat. That you were his girlfriend. That you had just come from meeting his mom, who had shown you a bunch of truly humiliating baby pictures and had whispered to him that she liked you when you had gone to the bathroom. For the rest of the night, that was the reality he lived in.

You had compared schedules last semester, before things got weird, and you shared only two classes, both of which were on Mondays and Wednesdays. At 10:30, you'd both be in Unsupervised Learning, then at 2:30, you'd both take Dynamic Systems and Controls. When he woke up at 8:30, he showered, then tried to wipe the tiredness from his eyes. He put on a shirt he knew you loved (you'd remarked on how well it fit him, and he didn't see it, but you did, and that was all that mattered) and his most comfortable jeans and hoodie. He secretly hoped you were doing the same kind of preening at home, trying to look good for him, but he didn't let the thought take up too much room in his mind.

At 10:25, when he walked into the lecture hall, he saw you instantly. Time stopped as he felt like someone had just gotten a particularly good hit to his solar plexus, and his whole body was responding, out of breath and weak and dizzy all at the same time. You were in the third row, to the left-hand side of the seats, and you looked more gorgeous than he remembered. How didn't he spend the whole break fantasizing about the way your hair shone or the curve of your neck? Seconds started ticking by again when he realized he was blocking the path to the seats, much to the anger of the group of people behind him. He walked down the steps to the second row like everything was normal, then positioned himself on the other side of the lecture hall. He kept his eyes firmly not trained on you for as long as he could, and, when the professor started droning, he turned to look at you, really look at you.

You had put on just a touch of makeup, something he'd noticed years ago that you always did on the first day of class. It suited you, and you looked well-rested and happy. Like you didn't miss him at all. It gutted him like a fish on the chopping block. What was wrong with him? How could he let you get away?

He turned back to the professor, pretending to be interested in the syllabus. When class ended, by the time he packed up his things, you had gone.

The second class was a repeat of the first, only in a smaller lecture hall. He tried to keep his cool, he really did, but he snuck glances. He was only human.

He didn't go into the lab for the week, mainly because he was almost done with build and was spending most of his time on securing materials for testing. They had their first practice that Monday, so he got dressed and headed over to the Athletic Center, where he grounded himself in the ritual, the calming power of it all. It was amazing to see Rex and Ahsoka again. They always made him smile, something he'd been missing over the break.

Later that week, Ahsoka invited him to your room to talk about that semester's competitions. He hesitated the appropriate amount of time before he accepted. The hallway to your room was achingly familiar, just like he'd seen it in his dreams. Only Ahsoka was home, so she wasted no time before interrogating him about what happened with the two of you.

When he told her the general gist, she had the good decency to be honest and tell him that he was kind of being an asshole by not mentioning it, but that it was normal to get advice from professors and other students. It wasn't ideal for it to be as explicitly grabbed, sure, but the point still stood.

By the time the door opened and you came in (his mind raced--from a date? from class? from some other part of your life that he would never come to know?), Anakin and Ahsoka were discussing taekwondo logistics. You looked gorgeous in the cozy cable-knit sweater you had on, and he hoped against all hope that he wasn't staring the way he thought he was.

You looked shocked for a good second before smiling awkwardly with a little "hey." You retreated to your room almost instantly, and Anakin felt a pit open up, wondering if he'd made you uncomfortable. It wasn't his fault, honestly, but he still felt guilty. He left an hour afterward.

Was this his fate? To watch you from a middle distance as you lived your life? He was trapped, pinned down like a bug, reading into everything he saw. If you were in a four-block radius, his eyes would find you. They always would. In class, he had to stop himself from turning toward you, from studying your features and trying to read anything from them. He never could.

Anakin was still fucking haunted by you, especially now that he was on campus. Everything reminded him of you. The boba place, every inch of your dorm, the emptiness in his mattress. He knew he was hallucinating when he thought he spied you at practice one day, just a wisp of hair in the corner of the room, but, by the time he did a double take, there was only empty floor there.

On Thursday, he got a text from Ahsoka.

Party tomorrow at Cody's. You should come, she had written. He didn't really, actually feel like partying. But he went anyway. Maybe he could spend enough time with his friends to forget about you.

He threw on a nice shirt, some kind of button-up his mom had gotten him, cuffed the sleeves, and set off.

It was a standard-issue party. He'd been to plenty of them, so he figured was ready and prepared for what he'd see and feel. Bass in his eardrums so loud it shook the blood in his veins. Having to scream basic conversation over music. Cheap beer and a sticky floor. Enough heat that his hair would start curling more.

It felt like home. He entered, found Cody and Ahsoka quickly, promising to return after he grabbed a drink. Anakin made his way to the folding table crammed full of bottles, as well as some kind of vile jungle juice, and took two shots. Just enough to stop thinking about you, he hoped.

By the time he fought his way back to Cody and Ahsoka, he was feeling it. Rex had joined them in the meantime, and Anakin joined the little huddle. They were talking (read: yelling "what did you say?" over the music) about one of Cody's dates that week, and Anakin let himself slip into the familiar rhythm of his friends. It was nice, honestly. He only thought of you five or six times, which was a record low.

Then Ahsoka suggested they go get another drink, and, as the four of them pushed back toward the drinks station, he saw you.

You were fucking radiant, and the breath stalled in his chest. You had always been the only thing he ever wanted to look at in a room, even from sophomore year, when you began to piss him off more than anything, but right now, you were a supernova. And he was a moth. He felt his wings get burned off as he traced the curve of your jaw and acknowledged to himself that, yeah, he probably wasn't going to get over you until you were across state lines.

You were wearing some sinfully short, tight dress, which crept higher and higher up your thighs. He could tell you weren't wearing a bra, and something stirred inside of him.

But then he saw the guy standing next to you, leaning in to tell something to your ear. Anakin hated himself for the thought, but he instantly started comparing himself to the guy. What was Mr. Boat Shoes saying to you that made you tip your head back and laugh like that? He remembered when he used to do that, when he would make you throw your head back to do more than just laugh.

Anakin felt his jaw clench and his body start to shake with the same energy that he always had before competitions, coiled like a snake about to strike.

He knew it was a bad idea, he really did. But he was never one to resist bad ideas. He blamed the alcohol. It wasn't that you were his, or some misguided attempt at owning you, but he just couldn't watch this. He couldn't let this feeling tear him apart anymore. When you swatted the guy's chest playfully, Anakin felt his eye twitch, right under his scar. Oh hell no. But he shouldn't. It was your business.

Fuck it.

Anakin started pushing through the crowd, and then he saw the guy lean in, and he saw red.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!):

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[amor-ad-nauseam]

Arguing with Dean about music

Summary: You, Sam and Dean are all prepping for a hunt. Meanwhile, you and Dean have the dumbest of arguments.

Pairings: Dean X reader

Notes ; fluff, silly argument, one shot.

Requests are open

“All I’m saying is, everybody knows that four was their best album.” Dean said while fishing a clean cloth from his duffle.

“And all I’m saying is, you’re just being stubborn.” You said in an unbothered tone with that underlying cadence of smugness he knows all too well. Your nimble fingers work at taking apart a hand gun to give it a well needed, and far over-due, cleaning.

“I am not!” (He definitely was) “But c’mon, mothership came out in two-thousand sevennnn.” He says as if it were some sort of crime. “All of it’s remastered crap anyway, nowhere near as good as the original.” He scoffs while handing you the cloth.

“You do realize “remastering” is just updating a song to match new quality standards?”

“And that’s the problem!” Dean said with a groan.

You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose as you knew where he was going with this.

Dean picks up a knife and a sharpening block and begins to work as he goes on with his spiel. “Everyone is so obsessed with “new quality standards” and i-tunes and-and Justin Bieber!”

You roll your eyes and begin to reassemble the gun and move on to another.

“- physical media! That’s where it’s at. Just gimme some cassettes or hell even a vinyl and I am good. To. Go.”

You had heard this rant more times than you could count. You loved your boyfriend to death but damn could he talk. “Uh-huh” you say, looking up at him from your spot on the edge of the bed, the rest of the space taken out by the assorted weapons. “Whatever you say honey.” You nod with an amused smile. Regardless, it was still endearing how passionate he was.

Dean turns the knife in his hand and begins to sharpen the other side. “Okay, okay I’ll stop ranting,” he smiles. “But, there was no-“

“-Good music made after 1979,” Sam finishes, pushing open the motel door open with his foot and stepping inside.

You chuckle at this but Dean just nods his head approvingly. “Damn straight.” Dean replied.

“Oh god, don’t tell me you guys are arguing over Led Zeppelin again.” Sam sets down the paper bag he was carrying- filled with salt and other things you’d need for tomorrow’s hunt.

“She thinks mothership is a good album.” Dean said.

“So? It’s not bad, just a best-hits type thing.” Sam shrugs.

“See!” You pointed to Sam. “Thank you!”

“Two-thousand seven” Dean frowned.

“Dazed and confused is on there!” You retorted.

“Just listen to the album like a normal person.”

“I’m the one who’s not normal?”

Sam sighed and rubbed his forehead. It was going to be a long night.

[missmonsters2]

Mirror, Mirror | Two

Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.

PART ONE

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda oscillates between crying and being overcome with confidence to confess. She barely has time to reflect when the devastating news arrives that you have a date, and Wanda needs to formulate a plan—quickly.

Warnings: best friends to lovers. shenanigans. jealousy, jealousy. sexual tension. pining. yearning. sexual thoughts. spicy (tumblr's version). stupid steve. neurotic nat. brat & stinky. bug as in shutterbug.

*explicit version will only be available on Ao3 & will be posted there after series is completed*

Note: cue the shenanigans of date stalking and taylor swift. Put your hands together for the real MVP of this chapter: Yelena.

Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘

Series Masterlist || Library Blog || AO3

Count: ~4.5k

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This week's philosophical question is: Is it gay to think about your best friend?

The short answer is no. The long, complicated answer is that it might be. 

There's logic and reasoning behind this because don't most people think about their best friend? Don't most people plan to have their best friend in the future? If not, then why would they be best friends in the first place?

Sadly, there's a rude awakening in Wanda's wobbly defense. Natasha is the only person to blame for blowing down her defense made of straw when Wanda chats with her on the phone in the evening while you're out for a photoshoot. 

"How's Maria doing?" Wanda asks.

"Good," Natasha answers, and Wanda can hear the tap water running and realizes the redhead is doing the dishes. "She'll be coming to visit during Christmas."

"Oh, you must be very excited!" Wanda beams. If it were her, she'd be ecstatic to be seeing you after so long. 

"Yeah, it'll be good to see her. I think she's bringing her girlfriend, Sharon. They've been seeing each other for a few months, and she doesn't have anyone to spend Christmas with since her grand-aunt passed away.

"Oh," Wanda's voice is low, brows furrowing. "That seems very fast if she's coming to spend a holiday with Maria. How do you feel about it?"

Natasha hums. "Happy, I guess? I haven't met Sharon, but I've been hearing good things about her. She's able to keep up with Maria's busy life as she's got her own, but they make time for each other."

"But what if Sharon's wrong for Maria, or Maria ends up getting hurt."

"Then I'll break Sharon's legs, but Maria's a big girl. I'll be there for her, but she'll be okay," Natasha chuckles.

"But—"

"Wanda, what's with the questions about Maria?" Natasha cuts off. "Is it something with Bug? Are you worried about Raye? She's told me they haven't even gone on a first date yet; why are you so worried?"

"It's not about that!" Wanda said defensively. "I mean—I am worried, but I just don't want her getting hurt. She's my best friend; she deserves someone perfect. Don't you want someone perfect for Maria?"

Even as the words came out of Wanda's mouth, she grimaced because she was nowhere near perfect herself. 

"Of course I do," Natasha sighs. "But unless Maria is hurting, I'm not going to get overly involved with her love life. She'll go at her own pace and update me as she goes."

"But how will you know if Maria is going to continue living away? If she gets serious with Sharon, will Maria still plan to move back here? How will you guys plan on having a wedding at the same time and picking a house in the same neighborhood?" Wanda asks seriously. Her tone is distraught because it feels like Natasha doesn't care about her best friend at all! 

There's a moment of silence on the other line before Natasha says, "We don't plan for that. I mean, I'll be bummed for sure if Maria doesn't move back but we'll always be best friends. We'll visit each other and keep in contact as often as we need, but we don't need to physically be in the same place."

And another realization slides into place. 

"How are you guys best friends?!" Wanda yells into the phone before she hangs up without another word. 

Wanda knows that she'll have to call Natasha later and apologize and say she's on her period or something, but right now, with her eyes hot and wet, she digs her face into her pillow and cries instead.

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"Hey, I need to head out for another shoot today. Do you want me to pick up anything for you?"

Your voice muffles through Wanda's closed door. You've come in a few times, but Wanda had stayed in bed and pretended that she might've been under the weather. 

"No," Wanda says loud enough so you can hear it. "Have fun, though."

"I'll be home soon and make you some paprikash, but there's some chicken soup in the fridge for you if you want some while I'm gone," you reply. Wanda momentarily hears your hand land on the doorknob, but you don't turn it and come in. "Feel better, brat."

You don't wait for Wanda's response even though it is a quiet, "Thanks, stinky."

Alone in the apartment once more, Wanda sighs. She's been all over the place emotionally since she last talked to Natasha on the phone. She later sent a voice memo through text apologizing and said her period just came, which explained all the craziness. Luckily, Natasha was kind enough to leave it be, but they haven't chatted much since then—mostly on Wanda's end. 

Wanda's been caught between wanting to spend more time with you and distancing herself while sorting through her feelings. It was so easy at that moment to leave Vision and feel intense jealousy of Raye, but now in their own little bubble, everything was unraveling like a poorly wrapped present. 

The only saving grace was that you and Raye couldn't align your schedules to go on a date anytime soon. Raye was out of state currently and was supposed to be traveling for work for the next few weeks, and you were confirming projects that were supposed to be for the entire month. 

The extra time was sorely appreciated. 

In short, Wanda has cried 8 times in the last week while equally getting the inspiration almost to confess 7 times. 

There was a nagging fear, though. What if you didn't feel the same? What if Wanda was reading this one gigantic sign wrong, and you simply just liked brunettes with green eyes?

Or, what if you did feel the same and things didn't work out? What if the two of you date, and it goes wonderfully well before it ends? It doesn't matter what causes the end; just what if it did?

In either scenario, things would never be the same, and Wanda would lose her best friend of 10 years. 

Although, Wanda reasons that even if she confessed and you didn't feel the same, she wouldn't actually lose you. Sure, things would never be quite the same, but the friendship would continue. They've endured much worse, and Wanda would probably get over her feelings. 

Probably. 

Because if she didn't, well, Wanda wouldn't know what to do. She's lived too long of her life with you; she can't think of what it'd be like without you. Logically, she knew she'd survive, but there'd always be a part of her missing. 

Sometimes, Wanda thinks there was always a part of her missing until the day she met you. She can still remember 10 years ago like it was yesterday.

"Wanda, it'll be fine," Pietro's accent was thick and heavy, and Wanda refused to say anything out loud to acknowledge it. 

The girls in her class were already making fun of her accent, and her attempts to talk to them were rebuffed with looks as if they couldn't believe she dared to speak to them. 

It was too difficult, Wanda thought. It was too difficult to make friends when she transferred here mid-year, and everyone had already formed their cliques since elementary.

It was hard enough with the growing changes in her 14-year-old body, and she already felt awkward all the time—the giggling behind her back and to her face wasn't helping. 

Wanda wanted to go back home to Sokovia, except there was nothing left to return to. The war had reduced everything to shambles, and everyone else in her family was happy to have been able to seek refuge in America—Rochester, specifically. 

Wanda knew she should be grateful, especially since many of her aunts, uncles, cousins, and other extended family couldn't escape. She never really had too many friends, but the few she did went to Canada, and she knew she'd unlikely ever talk to them again. 

It was a lot of change, and Pietro was the only person who understood her at this new school, but even he couldn't do much since they shared no classes together. Plus, Pietro had still managed to make a friend, and Wanda didn't have the heart to make him sit with her at lunch every day. 

"Do you want me to eat lunch with you? I can ask Sam to sit with us," Pietro offered, but Wanda shook her head. 

"Are you sure?" Pietro asked again, preparing to sit with Wanda anyway, but Wanda shook her head.

"No, it's fine. I'm just going to eat my lunch quick and head to the library to catch up on some assignments," Wanda mumbled quietly, waiting for some girls in her class to pass by before she said it. 

"Okay," Pietro said, sighing since he was conflicted about staying with his sister or heading off to hang out with his friend. But at Wanda's insistence, he merely told her where she could find him if there was anything and took off with one last glance.

When Pietro was fully out of sight, Wanda took a seat alone at an empty table, pulling out her lunch reluctantly. She was quick to notice that the American kids typically brought a plain sandwich or bought food from the cafeteria, which usually consisted of the same foods like pizza or mac and cheese. 

While the comments about the food she brought were also embarrassing, Wanda didn't have it in her to ask her mother to make something else. Money was tight, and asking to add other things to the grocery list just so she could fit in didn't seem worth it when it wouldn't do anything about the fact no one wanted to talk to her. 

So, Wanda pulled out the finomfőzelék with her breaded chicken breast. She still didn't open it and let her containers sit on the table. 

Wanda wasn't quite sure what was causing it. Maybe it was just this specific instance of sitting alone, or maybe it was the last week and a half of enduring this, but Wanda felt her eyes burn and water. She willed it with everything she had inside to not let it fall and took a deep breath. 

"Hi."

The sudden sound made Wanda's head snap up, eyes wide with surprise. You stood there, and Wanda sort of recognized you from her classes. She thought she shared all but one with you. You've never contributed to the bullying but never stopped it or talked to her, either. 

Wanda vaguely recalled you've been sick with a cold the last few days. Her eyes shifted to look behind you, and she could see your friends looking very confused and beckoning you to come back to their lunch table.

"Hi," Wanda quietly greeted you back, wincing at how the accent could even come out with one syllable. 

You sat down suddenly, clearing your throat. "Can I ask you something?"

"Okay," Wanda replied warily. 

"Do you practice witchcraft?"

The question stumped Wanda.

"What?" 

"Do you practice witchcraft?" You repeated, looking serious. 

"No," Wanda frowned, so perplexed that she couldn't even be upset about her accent. "I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Well, Hela has been spreading rumors that you're a witch from Sokovia, and that's why Mr. Coulson passed away suddenly when you came."

Then, it's suddenly so clear why no one has been talking to her. 

"But if you're not a witch cursing people to death, then that's cool," you said, interrupting Wanda's thoughts. "I wanted to ask you that earlier but then I got sick for a few days. So, do you want to hang out with me?"

Wanda just stared at you, her heart racing because finally, finally, she was going to have a friend. "Yes," Wanda replied quickly, smiling. "That'd be...cool," she repeated your slang. 

"Cool," you smiled back before pointing at her food. "Noticed you bring different food every other day. Can I try some? I'll trade you some of my sandwich. Heads up, though, my mom has been experimenting with food. This week was Chinese food, so beef and broccoli might be between the bread."

Wanda smiled at the memory, the ends of it tapering off. You changed her life, and even when Hela made fun of you, you shut her up with a comment about how she stuffed her bra. It was devastating to a 14-year-old. 

After that, the two of you were inseparable. You still occasionally hung out with your group of friends, but you definitely drifted to spend time with Wanda. 

Wanda wonders if it was actually at that moment that she fell in love with you, but at 14, she didn't know how else to interpret it other than friendship. 

You and Wanda didn't meet Nat, Steve, Bucky, and all the others until high school when the other districts were poured into one school. Since then, so much has happened. 

Your parents divorced.

Wanda's mother passed away from cancer. 

You dated Sam very briefly, giving him your first kiss and then shortly breaking up with him after. 

You came out to her, scared, hesitant, and so happy when Wanda didn't care. 

Wanda started to date Vision.

Wanda wanted to go to NYU, and you happily went there with her. 

You confessed you had a crush on Natasha but didn't want to pursue it. 

Wanda's first break-up with Vision. 

You dated Jean Grey and cried when she left you for Scott. 

When you wanted to stay in New York City, Wanda decided to stay here too, rooting her career here with you. 

Wanda wonders if maybe actually she'd fallen in love with you several times over and over but didn't know how to interpret any of her strong feelings for you, categorizing them as friendship just as she did when she was 14.

"I'm home!" 

Wanda hears the apartment door close and the shuffling of you taking off your shoes. She looks at the time and realizes two hours have already passed. Deciding that she's wallowed enough, Wanda decides to get out of bed and leave her room, running her fingers through her hair to tame it.

When she enters the kitchen, Wanda finds you starting the process of making paprikash. It's something you've always done for her when she's sick, feeling down, or homesick. Yet, in this moment, something swells inside Wanda's chest, and she wants to burst out crying again.

"Oh, hey," you turn around and smile as you see her, and Wanda clears her throat and blinks the tears quickly away.

"Hey," Wanda smiles back as she makes her way towards you. "You didn't have to do that, you know. I'm feeling better."

You open your arms for her to dive into a tight hug. You smell like clean laundry and mint, and Wanda wants to bottle your smell. The tension in Wanda lately starts to drain from her body as you rub her back comfortingly. 

"Some paprikash never hurt nobody," you joke. "I'm glad you're feeling better, though, brat. Is it the break-up with Vis?"

"Huh?" Wanda's brows furrow. "No, not really. I haven't really thought about it."

"Homesickness?"

"Er," Wanda fiddles with the back of your shirt. "Kinda, I guess."

"Well, good thing Thanksgiving is in a few months. Your dad and brother are coming here this year, right?"

Wanda nods, brightening at the thought of seeing her family. "Yes, I hope papa and Tony don't get into it again this year."

"I think your dad gets a sick sense of joy of torturing the son of man responsible for all the weapons that destroyed Sokovia," you say dryly. "I think Tony's starting to catch on he's not serious, though."

Wanda chuckles, and you pat her shoulders before you pull away and take out a knife and chopping board. Watch sits on the bar stool, watching you cook, letting things fall into a comfortable silence. 

This was everything, Wanda thought.

Nothing could ruin this moment, and Wanda thought long and hard, building up the courage to say something about her feelings. She wasn't sure what to say, so she might start with something flirtatious, but Wanda would say it more sensually instead of the usual joking tone. 

"Oh!" You say without looking at Wanda, chopping the onion and garlic. "I forgot to tell you. Raye's flying back in a few days before heading out again, and we planned a date this weekend."

Everything is ruined, and Wanda can't tell if the onion or the devastating news is causing her eyes to water.

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"Why did you bring me here?" Yelena hisses.

"Because I can't bring Natasha!" Wanda hisses back. "And be quiet or else they're going to hear us!"

"Why not Natasha? She's your other closest friend," Yelena says, quieter as she grumbles. "You're making me miss movie night with Kate. We're supposed to watch Insidious and you're ruining my chances of making fun of her being scared."

"Because," Wanda exasperatedly says. "I've already had a meltdown with Natasha, and she's going to make all sorts of comments if she knows I'm doing this now. I can't be here alone since this is the type of restaurant only couples go to."

"You think I won't make comments?" Yelena raises her brow at Wanda, looking frighteningly similar to Natasha at that moment. "I thought you grew out of stalking Bug's dates in university."

Wanda doesn't reply, too busy staring at your table. Raye is making some kind of flirty comment, reaching across the table and lacing your fingers through hers. You're laughing—Wanda can tell with how your shoulders shake. 

The restaurant you've chosen to take Raye to is a slightly upscale steak restaurant. You've ordered cocktails, a bottle of wine, and two appetizers to start. 

Raye's biting her bottom lip suggestively before she takes a sip of her wine, her index finger is stroking the back of your hand, and Wanda's wondering if she can bribe a waiter to spill a glass of beer on Raye accidentally. 

"Seriously, I know you're best friends, but this is out of hand. Just confess before Raye steals your girl and they get married."

Wanda whips her head back towards Yelena, eyes filled with indignation. 

"THEY WOULD NEVER—"

"SHHH," Yelena hisses, and they both have to hide behind their menus when you turn around and look. "Jesus Christ, Maximoff."

"They would never get married," Wanda huffs before peeking outside her menu to see that you've returned to your conversation with Raye. But then she turns back to Yelena. "You know about my feelings? Did you always know? Did you—"

"Shut up," Yelena groans. "No, I was just fishing, and you're the sucker I caught. I mean, was there a time I thought you guys were too close? Yes, but it eventually became normal."

The two of them put their menu's down when it's safe, and Yelena seems to be carefully planning how to explain her thoughts. 

"We've all accepted that you guys are very close, but you both kept dating different people—you specifically only dating boys and then Vision. It worked out that we were all going to NYU, but did you know that Bug had an offer to study abroad and do an internship that would've accelerated her graduation and then career?" Yelena carefully looks at Wanda's face.

"What?" Wanda frowns. She vaguely remembers you mentioning the program but recalled you dismissing it. You didn't tell her you were offered a spot in the program. "No, but I mean, she was building her online platform, and it was taking off. She didn't need to do an internship."

"No," Yelena agreed with a shrug, "but it wouldn't have hurt. I suspect she couldn't stand the idea of being away from you for a year. Just like how you turned down the job offer in LA at graduation when you knew she would stay in NYC."

"That wasn't—I just—" Wanda huffs. "I like where I am now. My work is flexible." 

"Yeah, but being in public relations, you could've been making twice the amount you are now," Yelena raises her brow again. "Although, at this point, I suspect you both chose adaptable careers in case one of you wanted to move to another city."

"That's not true," Wanda protests.

"Do you even like being a PR?" Yelena asks. "At least Bug loves photography. You, on the other hand, have a talent for PR, but it'd be just as easy for you to do anything else."

"I do like it," Wanda stresses. "It's easy, and the clients I've got keep me busy enough. Just because I don't spend all my time on it or talk about it doesn't mean I don't like it."

"But—"

"Enough talking, our food is coming, and you better be ready to leave at a moment's notice," Wanda cuts Yelena off as the waiter arrives and sets their food down. 

"Worst. Date. Ever," Yelena deadpans.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

As it turns out, Raye lives relatively close to the restaurant as you walk hand-in-hand back to her place.

And not too far behind, Wanda and a reluctant Yelena trail from a distance. 

"She's not going to Raye's house, is she?" Wanda whispers with a frown.

"Why not?" Yelena grunts, adjusting her leather jacket. "She has casual flings all the time, and by the looks of their date earlier, it went very well."

"Not. Helping," Wanda glares at Yelena. They enter a street filled with apartments, and Wanda is careful about not following too close and walking under the streetlights.

"This is psychotic," Yelena groans. "Can't we go home? I feel like a literal serial killer out here."

Wanda doesn't respond, just staring ahead as they continue to walk. You're swinging your hand back and forth, interlaced with Raye's. There's giggling, and Raye keeps leaning closer to say something to you. 

There's so much sexual tension that it's palpable from here, and Wanda wishes there was a serial killer out here. 

How was Wanda going to stop this? How was Wanda going to prevent you from going home with someone else?

Wanda picks up a small rock and chucks it hard toward your general direction, hoping to spook the two of you apart. Except, her aim is so terrible that it flies completely left and hits the car beside you instead.

The car alarm goes off, setting off flashing lights and a very, very loud beeping noise.

"Wanda, what the fuck—" Yelena is cut off when Wanda suddenly shoves her down into a bush and dives next to her. "Ow, you fucking—" Wanda slaps her hand over Yelena's mouth.

You and Raye look behind, completely perplexed, when no one is there. You try to check out the vehicle, but other than a small dent, nothing is wrong with the car otherwise. Since neither you nor Raye caused it, you continued walking.

It turns out Raye lived in the building just a few steps ahead. You both stand at the door, holding hands before Raye throws her arms around your neck, smirking. 

Wanda's about to pick up another rock when Raye moves in suddenly for a hot, searing kiss.

And when Wanda watches you kiss back, her hand goes slack. Something awful builds in the pit of her stomach, and there's nothing Wanda can do when she watches you go into the apartment. 

Yelena watches Wanda's crestfallen face and sighs. "Wanda—"

"Let's just get back to the car and go home," Wanda mutters as she stands up, not bothering to brush off the dirt, leaves, or twigs from her hair. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

The car ride home is sickeningly pathetic—a new low for Wanda. 

"PLEASE DON'T BE IN LOVE WITH SOMEONE ELSE. PLEASE DON'T HAVE SOMEBODY WAITING ON YOUUUU—" Wanda hoarsely cries out, tears streaming down her face. She's off-tune, and she's screaming more than she is singing. 

"Oh, god," Yelena sighs, bringing her hand to her face in embarrassment in the passenger seat. They've stopped at a red light, and the car beside them is staring at them strangely. "This is sad for even you, Maximoff."

Wanda doesn't even acknowledge that she heard Yelena, only belting out, "I'LL SPEND FOREVER WONDERING IF YOU KNEW—"

"Just kill me, just kill me, just crash this car and kill us both," Yelena mutters to herself. 

The house is dark when Wanda returns, not that it should be any surprise. Deep down, though, Wanda hoped you'd return home and somehow beat her to it. 

Wanda's eyes feel tired and raw from crying the entire way home. Yelena gave her a reluctant hug, mustering all her kindness into rubbing Wanda's back and kissing the crown of her head when it was buried in her friend's shoulder. 

Pulling out her phone, Wanda looks at her texts. One from work, a couple of Natasha, one from Vis, and one from Pietro. She stares at your name in her messages, but nothing comes even if she wills it. 

Instead, she shoots you a quick "hey :)" and puts her phone away. You'd unlikely answer, but Wanda couldn't help herself. 

Sighing, Wanda gets ready for the night, trying to not let her mind drift on what activities you and Raye could be doing.

Please let it be scrabble, please let it be scrabble, Wanda thinks as she finishes brushing her teeth. 

As she walks towards her room, she pauses. It's unlikely you'd return until tomorrow morning, maybe even noon. Biting her lip, Wanda turns and walks into your room instead, crawling into your bed under the sheets. She pulls the blanket up to her chin, inhaling your scent slowly.

It both comforts her and makes her heart twinge. 

After an hour, sleep falls upon Wanda easily, and she's nearly in a deep sleep when the lights suddenly turn on, and a yelp is heard.

Wanda wakes up suddenly, shooting up with her heart pounding that it's a robber, but it's just you standing at the door with your hand over your heart and chest heaving. 

"Oh my god, you scared the shit out of me!" You scold Wanda. "I totally thought you were my sleep paralysis demon!"

Wanda rolls her eyes at the comment but frowns as you calm yourself and rummage through your closet for sleeping clothes. "What are you doing at home? I thought you were going to sleep over at Raye's."

"She got a call in the middle of everything. It was her sister or something having some kind of meltdown. Raye says her sister can be dramatic, and it happens once a month, but she couldn't really hang up. I got sleepy waiting, but I didn't wanna crash there to just sleep on a first date," you answer. 

"I'm sure you would've gotten some in the morning," Wanda mutters.

"I guess, but feels weird since it'd definitely be rushed," you take off your jacket and socks before heading to the bathroom. "It's fine, we'll probably reschedule for another date." 

"Perfect," Wanda sighs as she starts to get up. 

"Stay there, brat," you tell her as you stand at the door. "If you're gonna sleep in my bed, you better commit to the sleepover."

Wanda sticks her tongue out at you, which you return before you leave.

Tapping her fingers against the sheets, Wanda smiles. Maybe the night wasn't so hopeless after all. 

PART THREE