#and it's why i'll (try to) put this in the tags too...i like discussions but seeing ppl NOT going 'it's true love/perfect rep' love that

[cjlouwho]

Twelve Christmases

chapter tags: discussions of a burn victim (nothing graphic), discussions of suicide and mental health, very brief mentions of things that happened in past chapters (Tommy's mom, military, red handkerchief, implied noncon), anxiety, depression, background character death, Tommy calls the crisis hotline

read below or on ao3

Day 10: 2022

“I'm calling Roberts in early, you can go home.”

“Captain Marks-”

“No, Kinard! What you did out there was careless. You could've gotten yourself killed.”

“And if I'd done nothing, that man would be dead.”

“He's gonna wish he were dead if he ever wakes up! He's got third degree burns on over seventy percent of his body! I don't mean to be harsh, Tommy, but you risked your life for a dead man walking!”

“So?” 

Marks took a deep breath, sitting back in his chair. “I'm gonna pretend I didn't just hear you say that. I know emotions are high right now, but you know as well as I do I can't have a pilot that isn't concerned about whether they live or die.”

“That's not-”

“Stop talking, Kinard,” Marks warned. “You're on the ground for five shifts, I'll reevaluate things myself after that. If I have any hesitation, for even a moment, about your intentions here, you're getting a psych eval. That'll put you on the ground forever. You understand me?”

Tommy pursed his lips, nodding his head. “I understand.”

“Good. Now, go home, enjoy the rest of your Christmas, come back next shift with a clear head.”

*****

By the time Tommy got home, it was nearing ten o'clock at night. His brain was a jumbled mess. It didn't seem to matter how many times he hit the punching bag in his garage, it was never enough.

After a quick shower, he thought about laying down.

But even the idea of that made him want to crawl out of his skin.

So, he began to pace.

He paced, and paced, and paced, with his hands on his hips. From the living room, to the kitchen, down the hall, and back again.

It all felt like too much. He wasn't just thinking about today. He was thinking about his mom. He was thinking about the military. He was thinking about the red handkerchief. He was thinking about waking up in a stranger's apartment with no clue what happened the night before.

He was thinking, thinking, thinking, pacing, pacing, pacing, and he needed it all to stop.

Just stop!

So he did something he never thought he'd do.

He wasn't even sure what made him do it.

All he remembered was pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing the number.

988.

“988 crisis lifeline, this is Penny. How can I help you today?”

He froze.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

He swallowed. Closed his eyes.

“I'm here.”

“Oh, good. May I ask who I'm speaking with?”

“Tommy,” no attempt to try for a fake name.

“Hi, Tommy! I'm Penny. I know I said it before, but I like to make sure the people I speak to heard me. Tommy, ca-”

“I'm not... I don't wanna kill myself,” Tommy interrupted, needing to make it clear. “I just needed someone to talk to.”

“Okay.” Her voice was soothing, familiar almost. A voice that Tommy hadn't heard in years. “That's what I'm here for, Tommy. What's on your mind?”

He tried to think of what to say. Tried to figure out the perfect way to start the conversation.

He was usually so put together.

But everything felt off.

“I hate Christmas.”

He wasn't sure why that was the first thing that popped into his brain at this moment, but it was out there now.

“A lot of people have complex feelings about holidays. It can be tough sometimes, no doubt about it.”

The tiny admission seemed to open a floodgate for Tommy. “My mom was thirty-eight when she died, and I'm thirty-eight now,” he explained. He was sure the words coming out of his mouth were just as jumbled as the thoughts in his head. “And she- she didn't die around Christmas. She actually died in June, so I don't know why I keep thinking about her today of all days, but I do. Not just her; I'm thinking about a lot of things. But it all sort of leads back to her at the end, I guess.”

“Was Christmas important to her?” Penny asked.

“She loved it when I was really little. Always liked looking at the lights and taking me to the mall to pick out things I wanted. I think my dad ruined Christmas for her though.”

“He wasn't big on the holiday?”

“He wasn't big on family. Looking back, I can see how being with him changed her. I didn't recognize it back then.”

“You were young. She probably didn't want you to recognize it.”

Tommy sighed, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “She didn't get thirty-nine Christmases, you know? And that doesn't really seem fair. Because I'm here for my thirty-ninth Christmas and I don't even like the damn day. She deserved more. She deserved better.”

“It's never easy to understand why the people we love get taken from us too soon. It can be especially difficult when we lose them as a child.”

Tommy let out a humorless laugh. “She didn't get taken from me,” he bit out, “she left me.”

There was a pause on the line, then, “I'm sorry?”

“Yeah, she uh, she made that choice to leave herself. Stuck me with my dad, who never really gave a crap about me in the first place, and she... she was just gone.”

“I'm sorry about that, Tommy. That's a lot to have to deal with as a kid.”

“I don't ever talk about it, about her. I don't really have anyone to talk about it with. My dad never cared for emotions, so I just plaster a smile on my face and put my shoulders back and keep going.” Tommy shook his head, clearing his throat and wiping away the tears that were pooling in his eyes. “That's not why I called though. Not because of her.”

“Okay,” Penny replied. “Tell me why you called, Tommy.”

Tommy rolled his shoulders, trying to rid himself of some of the tension running through his body. “I did something stupid at work today, and I knew better. I just didn't care.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“I work for the fire department. I'm a firefighter pilot, but today I was on the ground. We were called to a fire at this house- well, more like a mansion- and we thought we had the place cleared. Then the daughter started yelling for her dad. I headed back inside and found him, um,” Tommy paused, taking in a shaky breath.

“It's okay, Tommy. Take your time.”

“He- He was at the source of the fire. A fairly large space heater exploded and the fire had spread quickly. The house was about to collapse, and I was being told to get out, but I stayed. Long story short, I was able to get the man out right before the structure collapsed. He was severely burned though. If he makes it, and it's a big if, he's going to wish he hadn't. My captain won't let me fly for a while now. Sent me home early.” He let out a humorless laugh. “I wasn't even supposed to work today. I took the shift because I hate this damn holiday.”

“You've mentioned that three times now,” Penny noted.

“What?”

“How much you dislike Christmas. Tommy, do you think that maybe the risk you took today had something to do with the fact it's Christmas? Emotions were already high, making you take risks you wouldn't usually take?”

“Hm,” Tommy hummed. “Maybe? I don't really know though, because I feel like I'm ready to take those same risks any day, anytime. I said it before, and I meant it, I'm not trying to die. I just... I don't think I care if I do. It didn't matter to me if I didn't make it out. We're all gonna die someday, you know? That's what I always figure. What's it matter if it's now?”

“I think it would matter to the people who love you. The people who care about you.”

“I don't think I know anyone well enough for them to be affected by my death.”

“Well, it would matter to me,” Penny replied matter-of-factly, and Tommy couldn't help but let out a laugh.

“I dunno, I can be kind of a bitch sometimes.”

“Thank God for that, I'd hate it if you were too perfect.”

“Well, I never said I wasn't perfect. Perfect and bitch can go together, right?”

“I think it's a great pairing.”

A smile lingered on Tommy's face. He couldn't remember the last time he spoke to someone so openly. “Penny?”

“I'm here.”

“Would you stay on the phone with me until Christmas is over?”

“Honey,” she answered, Tommy softening at the name, “I can honestly say there's nowhere else I'd rather be.”

Penny stayed on the phone with him until 12:01. She was willing to stay on the line longer, but by the time Tommy had watched the clock strike midnight, he was ready to go to bed.

He felt better. A little lighter than he had in a while.

He'd been in bed for about fifteen minutes, and was just dozing off when his phone buzzed.

It was Captain Marks.

The man from the house fire died on the operating table.

I know you wanted to save him, Tommy.

Unfortunately we can't save them all.

Tommy stared at the texts for a good ten minutes before switching over to the phone app and dialing 988 again.

[wutheringmights]

what is wars diagnosed with. I know he has them I just don't know which ones.

I would prefer if we didn't pathologize Warriors

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

Hi zeta! So I received a notification today that I was ovulating and had a thought. Husband/Ceo!Cheol checking your phone as you received and notification that you were ovulating. Like my man would go crazy and be at it like the fucking rabbits.

(sorry why is this so long)

tw: dom!seungcheol, sub!reader (fem), marriage!au, unpotected sex (pls stay safe), breeding kink, mentions of kids and pregnancy, praise, use of petnames, daddy and mommy kink (they want to be actual parents), mating press, spanking, oral (f rec), cockwarming - minors dni.

@gyuwoncheol tagging her bcs she helped me to her own demise

"Babe?"

"Yes darling?"

"You have a new notification!" Seungcheol yells from the other end of the living room.

"I'll check it later, thanks!" You yell back, trying to make yourself heard through the noise of the kitchen mixer.

Seungcheol is a man who values your privacy and would never attempt the petty snooping around on your phone.

But how could he miss the bright notification of your cycle tracking app saying that you're ovulating?

He turns his head to your direction and looks at the shape of your body standing in front of the counter and his mind races at the thought of you bearing his kids and having them run around your legs in the future.

And it makes him want to fuck you until he has made sure you're pregnant.

He gets up from the couch and walks up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

"You sure love back hugs, don't you?" You let out a small laugh.

"How can I not when I have such a pretty wife?" He hums.

"Oh, I see how it is." You turn off the mixer and turn around to face him. "Come on, out with it, big guy."

"What? Can't I just compliment my wife because I feel like it?" He pouts his lips.

"Seungcheol, you never compliment me without any reason."

"I was just thinking...."

"I knew it."

"I haven't even said anything yet!" He complains.

"Oh my God, just say it!"

"I was thinking how pretty you'd look with a belly full of our kids."

Your eyes widen with shock at your husband's blunt words. It's true that you've discussed the possibility of widening your family with Seungcheol and you know he would be the most silly and doting dad ever. But the way he looks at you and his hands tighten on your body makes you feel a tad bit jittery (in a very good way).

"Did you just think of that, or...?"

"Your tracking app said you're ovulating and I can't get it out of my damn head." Seungcheol groans.

"You checked my phone?!"

"I didn't unlock it! It was right beside me and I just saw the pop-up on the screen!"

"And that made you worked up already?" You deadpan.

"God, you have no idea." He drops his head on your shoulder and rolls his hips against you.

"You're incorrigible." You hug him with a light chuckle.

You feel his lips stretching in a grin and he throws you over his shoulder with one swift motion, carrying you to the bedroom. You complain all the way, but he just slaps your ass and puts you down on the mattress, your legs hanging from the edge of the bed.

"I am indeed incorrigible, darling." Seungcheol strips himself down to bare skin and purposefully climbs over you to grab a pillow and place it under your lower back.

"I'll do everything in my power," he hooks his fingers in the hem of your sweats and drags them away from your legs, "to get your pretty pussy," he removes your cotton panties to reveal your cunt, "full of my cum until you physically can't take more inside you."

"C-Cheol-" You watch your husband kneel on the foot of the bed, ready to use his tongue on you.

"Talk to me, darling. Tell me what you want."

"Fuck, I want your kids so bad." You moan and spread your legs, putting your hands under your knees to pull them on your sides.

"That's what I thought too." He smirks and leans down to press a kiss on your clit, followed by full-bodied swipes of his wet muscle from your puffy bud of nerves to your hole, waiting for your pussy to drip just enough to get messy.

"You're so perfect, you know that?" He brings your legs on your chest and puts your ankles on his shoulders, the head of his cock dragging over your pussy. "Perfect wife, with a perfect pussy." He whispers and slides his shaft inside you, stealing your moans with his mouth.

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his pillowy lips, all while his cock is battering up your cunt. Your leg muscles tense up from being stretched out to their limits, but you don't want to switch up positions.

"Sweet, sweet fucking cunt, all ready to keep my cum safe." Seungcheol groans wildly on your lips, "Want to make you a mommy so bad."

"Fuck, I want you to be a daddy, Cheol, ah!" You throw your head back on the bed, watching your husband plow his hips in you relentlessly, his bottom lip caught between his pearly whites.

"W-Want a pretty little girl, w-with your eyes and lips, wanna treat her like a princess."

"And a rowdy little b-boy, so you c-can play g-games with him." You stammer over your words, but you get the message across.

"Fuck, I love you so much, darling." Seungcheol moans airily and plants his hands beside your head, rutting in you like a madman, sweat dripping down his body and a few drops landing on your chest.

"Cheol, I'm c-close." You sob.

"Me too, baby. Just a little more, please." He begs you to hold out.

You do as he says and you cum undone underneath him, his thick cock pulsing until he has emptied himself inside your cunt, not daring to pull away from you.

A few seconds of silence pass and none of you has moved yet. Your pussy clenches around his cock ever so slightly and you whimper, your legs falling limp on the bed.

"Even your pussy wants more, babe." Seungcheol chuckles and moves his cock inside you, bringing himself back to full hardness.

"You mean you've got more to give?" You pant.

"For you? Always."

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @wineyoungie @vduxx @inflatabledinosaurs19 @harrystylesfan2686 @silentmajesticfox @am-the-renegade @certainduckanchor @moons-reblog @scarletrosesposts @th3-audac1ty @darlink-xoxo @ayeputita @nanmiik @namjooningera @hermxssaa @annieleonhardtsbitch @nugget-eater123 @integers @thefunbanshee @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress @luckypeacevoid @kiki17483 @ruttteerr @yourbelloved @heyohalie // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[mercy-burning]

Christmas Miracles

Mercy’s Ficmas 2024 | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Spencer aims to comfort you after a rather explosive breakup with your boyfriend during your Christmas party. Category: Fluff Content: Yelling, sad Reader, drunk Penelope (she's my fav, what can I say), a mistletoe kiss, Spencer is a yearner (he is also my fav, what can I say) Word Count: 2.6k

The first day of Ficmas has arrived! I'm starting you off strong with some short 'n sweet fluffy pining goodness <3 (who am I lmao)

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

It's not uncommon for the holidays to be a lonely, depressing time for some. It's covered up in ribbons and bows and sparkling lights, but really, under the surface can lie a lot of darkness.

Spencer can see that in you— Not just this holiday season, though it's apparent now more than ever just how unhappy and exhausted you seem. When you're at work day after day, constantly thinking about and putting away criminals, and even then you seem more happy than you do when you're around your significant other, that's when there's a problem. And surely you must know how your friends have noticed... There's no way you couldn't have; It's practically all of your jobs to notice.

Still, you don't say or change anything about it.

He knows it isn't his place, but Spencer wonders why. His heart breaks for you, each and every time the jet touches down and your eyes darken with the realization that you're one step closer to going home. Home should be an escape from work, and not the other way around. Many times he's even offered to go somewhere with you as a distraction, a silent confession that screams, "I know you're not happy, but it doesn't have to be that way. You don't deserve to feel that way. And I'm here for you." Sometimes you agree and tag along, sometimes you don't. Every time, Spencer wishes you could see yourself the same way he and everyone else does.

And more than anything, he wishes that asshole of a man that calls himself your boyfriend would fall off the face of the Earth. In fact, "asshole" is too tame of a word to describe him, and "man" way too kind.

Much is apparent as the muffled argument rings high and dims the twinkling atmosphere of your apartment. The lights on your Christmas tree flicker in and out like they know that something is inherently wrong, like they're dying out and being suffocated by the thick tension.

Spencer's heartbeat flickers right alongside them, his gut twisting as your hurt and angry words cut through, sharp as a knife.

Finally, Derek's voice offers a bit of distraction, though not a very good one. "So, when are you going to swoop in and save the day?"

He winces. "She doesn't want my help. I already do what I can, but... It's best to let her handle it the way she wants to."

"Seriously? She's having a miserable time at her own Christmas party because of that dickwad, and you and I both know damn well that you're the only one who's gonna be able to help her out of it."

This time, your boyfriend raises his voice, cutting you off and making Spencer jump. He looks at the ground and continues the conversation with Morgan to try and distract himself. "I'll do what I can, but I'm not..."

He can't think of the right words, though Morgan seems to get the sentiment; He playfully nudges him with his elbow. "Why not? It's not exactly a big secret that you're in love with her or anything. And besides, we all know you'd treat her a thousand times better than—"

"It doesn't matter, okay? I'm not going do anything like that; I mean, they haven't even technically broken up, anyway, so... No."

Morgan sighs, and JJ offers a thought— how the last thing a woman wants after a fight with a man is another man to swoop in and try to whisk her away, no matter how good his intentions are. Morgan explains in turn that he's not actually suggesting any flat-out advances, and in a matter of minutes, the entire BAU ends up in a discussion weighing Spencer's options.

And then, the musing amongst the group comes to a close, but only at the screeching sound of your voice.

"You know what? Then you can leave!"

There's a collective gasp, a holding of breaths and clutching of champagne glasses in anticipation of the end, which comes crashing in with a resounding and cathartic, "And don't you ever come back! We're through! I never want to see your stupid face ever again!"

The door slams, and an immediate hushed chorus of cheers is not far behind. Morgan firmly pats Spencer's shoulder, as Rossi raises his glass and muses, "It's a Christmas miracle."

The real miracle, Spencer thinks, is you; even as your spirit waltzes back into the living area in pieces. Easily the most bright and beautiful soul he's ever known, it nearly crushes him to know how awful you probably feel in that moment, for something that isn't even your fault. He sympathizes, but more than anything he wants to reassure you that nothing could ever deter his steadfast belief in the simple fact that you are the only miracle one could ever need.

Penelope rushes to your side and embraces you in a warm hug, to which you drop your gaze to your feet.

"I'm sorry... I ruined your night."

"My dear, you've ruined absolutely nothing," Rossi offers gently.

His words elicit a sniffle from you, and then you're turning your head into Penelope's shoulder, hiding your face and slumping full-force into her arms. JJ and Emily rush over and pile on in a group hug, handing their drinks to Hotch. He's stayed verbally neutral over the situation, but Spencer can see the relief and hope resting in his expression as your grief slowly dissipates. A Christmas miracle, indeed, his smile seems to say.

The lights on the tree seem to brighten at the breath of fresh, unwavering life in the atmosphere that feels very much like love. A proper family. A support system. A warmth.

Spencer feels that warmth vibrantly in his fingertips— Even hours later in the cold, out on your balcony as he mindlessly observes the city below, every sharp breath of December air filling his lungs in slow, steady cycles. New snow isn't falling, but the streets are glittering with what's already there, every speeding headlight making the ground dance below him.

He wishes it were more quiet; something about the eerie silence of winter and the unexplainable feeling that somehow it might heal something within himself. Everything is always so loud, even as he closes his eyes to drift off into sleep. There's always some sort of man-made noise going on, whether it be a fan, or traffic outside his window, or even the quiet rustling of Hotch's paperwork on the way home from a case. For once, he thinks, it might be nice to drift off with nothing but the winter wind carrying him to sleep.

For now, though, he settles for car engines and crunching snow and the muffled bellows of joy beyond your patio door.

The joy crescendos for a moment, and Spencer turns his head to catch your glowing silhouette emerging from the door. The warmth he feels only pulses, hotter and brighter than before.

"There you are," you exclaim softly, stepping outside and closing the door. "Aren't you freezing out here?"

"Not really," he muses.

You take stance beside him, crossing your arms and overlooking the streets just as he'd been doing moments before. A soft smile ghosts over your lips, and on a breath out, your shoulders relax. "Great view, huh?"

"It is," Spencer confirms. "It's certainly better than the buildings I get to look at."

The laugh that escapes you in a cloud of visible air is quite possibly the most beautiful sound to him, especially when it's because of something he said. If he could indulge in the pleasure of making you laugh for the rest of his life, he would take the chance in a heartbeat.

"Well, then you're welcome on my balcony any time."

"Thank you," he says, trying not to give himself away as he feels the butterflies creeping their way in. With a nervous smile, he clutches his scarf. "I'll hold you to it. It's a nice balcony."

He kicks himself for that last part, inwardly cursing his inability to filter out the awkward, unnecessary sentences. He could keep talking and make it worse, but he ultimately decides that scrunching his nose in shame and passing it off as being chilled is the better choice. If you notice, you don't let on.

Taking that as a good sign, Spencer tries to relax. He breathes out, and you turn to him. "Are you... having a good time tonight?"

"Of course I am," he answers, perhaps a little too quickly. "I mean, you throw a great party."

You laugh again. This time the sound huffs out of you with a resounding sadness that cracks his heart once more. "It's not anything, really— just some lights, music, and drinks... But thank you anyway."

Before he has time to think better of it, Spencer calls you out by name, quick to defend you. But then he pauses, unsure of what else to say. He doesn't want to bring up your breakup and make you feel worse, but... what else can he do? The only thing that feels right is the need to remind you how inherently good you are.

So, that's what he does.

"You shouldn't sell yourself short. I... We all love you and we're glad to be with you, regardless of how... grand it is. Just being yourself is grand enough. You don't even need the lights or the drinks, or... him. You're better than all of those things combined."

At first you look pained, the mention of your ex-boyfriend exacting immense pressure on a fresh bruise, and Spencer almost regrets it— almost; Your features soften moments later as his words settle in and seem to melt away the pain, revealing a layer of disbelief and confusion. And then, softness.

Your lip trembles as you struggle to speak. "You don't... have to... say that."

"Yes. I do." As firmly as he possibly can while still being gentle, he reaches out and clutches your hands with his own. He hopes that whatever warmth he has immediately draws itself to you and wakes you up. He wills it to comfort you and make you see—make you feel. His fingers are desperate in their pursuit to love you, their grip unwavering and brimming with hope.

When your eyes meet his, he nearly collapses. There's so much love and relief and bewilderment sparkling in them that he suddenly feels the overwhelming urge to get lost in their depths—to explore and study each emotion until he knows every aspect of you. He almost forgets how to speak for a moment, his mouth dry and the concept of what he wants to tell you being clear as day, reflected in your eyes, as the words themselves slowly become less tangible.

All he can manage to say is the simple, unabashed truth. The love he has for you rests perfectly within those three words, anyway. They ring out and linger in the December air, floating softly around you like a feather, until it lands on your nose and wakes you up from your deep, dark reverie, releasing you into the light once again.

"You're utterly remarkable."

You clutch onto his hands like you've just been pulled from a frozen lake, grasping for any semblance of stability, and he's right there to guide you as you draw yourself closer to him. His heart beats loud and fast as you sigh out and smile, tears welling in your glimmering eyes.

"Thank you, Spencer," you breathe out sincerely in a broken whisper.

He smiles back at you, a weight lifting from his chest as he tells you, "Of course." As if it's the most natural thing in the world to express how wonderful you are.

A sudden burst of energy comes sweeping across the balcony as a loud, bellowing voice makes an expression of their own. It's Penelope, giggling and bubbly as ever.

"Hey! You two! It's present time! Get your pretty faces in here pronto!"

She's gone as quickly as she had appeared, leaving the door open a crack as you laugh and drag Spencer by the hand to follow.

He's grateful for the shift in activity, unsure how much longer he could have been out there alone with you before he said something he regretted. Not that he'd been looking for anything theatrical by any means, but in truth, the entire evening feels like it had been a movie, wrapped up in a neat little bow as the two of you cross the threshold into the rolling credits. The rest of his feelings he could deal with tomorrow, but for now, he's satisfied with this conclusion.

You stop as you approach the door, huffing a short laugh.

"What is it?" Spencer asks as you let go of him and turn around, plucking something from the panel of wood. From your delicate finger hangs a bundle of mistletoe. It sways gently in the wind before you clutch it in the palm of your hand.

"I always come out here after a fight... Guess I figured he might try to make it up to me or something... Like I knew he was going to let me down again..."

The words are sad, but your tone drips with amusement, or something close to it. You feel the plant in your hand, looking down at it and then back at Spencer.

His body freezes under your gaze, the implications sending him into a numbing warmth that both pleases and scares him in equal measure.

"You never let me down," you continue, stepping closer and interlocking his hand with yours, the mistletoe trapped in between. "I want to thank you for that."

Your face leans in, and at this point his heart is beating so loudly he can hear it drowning everything else out. He can barely hear himself stutter out, "It's not a problem, really... And I know you just got out of a relationship, so... You don't have to..."

"Yes. I do."

You kiss his cheek, firmly and quickly, and yet you don't fully retreat. Your lips linger near his jawline, and you squeeze his hand and whisper, "Thank you," against his skin.

He can feel the words worming their way into his pores and leaving trickles of static in their wake, spreading through him like lightning. Their sincerity moves him, and drives home your miraculousness with such force that he can't help but tilt his head down and capture the lips that uttered them in a swift, soft kiss of his own.

You press yourself into him effortlessly, a gesture that makes him wish he had the ability to stop time and keep it trapped in the palm of his hand and yours, like the mistletoe. He could spend forever in this moment if he were granted it.

But alas, time cannot be stopped, and neither can Penelope Garcia.

She bangs on the door and yells impatiently again. "Presents!"

You and Spencer break away in a collective laugh. He feels lightheaded and lovesick, every nerve ending alight with your essence.

"Okay, okay!" you yell over your shoulder, removing yourself from him completely this time and taking the mistletoe with you. You shove it in his coat pocket with an adorable scrunch of the nose and shuffle inside.

The moment you're out of sight, pulled back into the party and leaving him alone on the balcony to follow, he finally breathes out. And the slow inevitable smile that break out over his face feels bright enough to light the entire city.

The mistletoe hums vibrantly in his pocket through the rest of the night—his very own tangible reminder of a miracle; That time, for one brief moment, could stand still.

[infamous-if]

Dec ✮ 12 ✮ 2024 – update

Part of me hates doing these mostly because it's a whole lotta nothing and me just repeating everything I said the last update (lol) but I do like doing it because I like keeping people updated, even if it's a non-update. I may sound like a broken record (pun not intended) but I know a lot of people don't catch my updates every time so it's nice to just keep people informed yk yk

✮ — Part 2 + rewrite

Fun fact: I had written an entire essay about my excitement for the rewrite and chapter 3 and beyond but it got too long!

It boiled down to me wondering why I'm so excited for this rewrite and realizing it's because I feel comfortable enough to approach it with complete creative freedom. I wrote the first iteration of the demo with the constant worries swimming in my head like "I hope people understand what I'm trying to say here" and "I hope this situation is being read the way I intended for it to be read." And I think I sort of had those thoughts tenfold while writing Part 2. If you paid attention, you can probably see where I was trying to shut down certain discussions in the narrative lmao

Recently I had a tiny epiphany and reminded myself that it's not always about what I intend to write, but what is being understood by each reader. And yes this is basic writing 101 but let me have this moment of clarity okay. Embracing that means I can proceed with Infamous without holding back and sticking to my guns in regards to what I want for this story aka I'm just going to write what I write and like....not worry about the rest you feel (while of course integrating the common critiques and suggestions and improving on the things Infamous falls short in—I am not Shakespeare lmao)

ANYWAY my point is that I'm excited to fix up the demo !!! and just go back to it with complete confidence in myself and write whatever the heck feels right to me (and write the rest of the story lolol) and return with a better story than I have now for everyone!!

✮ — December will be for

planning what I'm going to improve and squeezing that in a reworked outline so it can flow much better narratively.

Outlining Chapter 3 and hopefully have the bare bones first draft drafted up which is mostly just be writing blocks of descriptions

I'm not sure I'll have anything substantial to justify looking for beta testers so soon yet but maybe!

work on my spice writing babey writing/reading spice makes me actually physically recoil but im determined to get better! which reminds me to finish the 6k follower gifts!

And also take a small breather because I am moving!

✮ — Patreon

I've already mentioned this on Patreon and a few times on here, but I do want to reiterate that Patreon content is coming out in bulk this month, in case anyone was wondering why I'm not posting as frequently. The content is still the same in terms of the quantity, it just won't be released every few days! thank you guys for being understanding of that <3

✮ —

My activity has is decreasing little by little due to my move but I do read every question and try to at least answer one question a day. I get quite a few mentions lately so I have to sort through those since I do get tagged in things, but I miss them due to my notifications. Usually I hope for the best and hope tracking the tag puts it on my dashboard <3 im not ignoring anyone!

That's all for now! Hope everyone has a happy December and Happy Holidays!

[lizzieisright]

Brick by brick

mean dom!reader x sub!Abby 

Summary: Sometimes Abby likes to piss you off and get in trouble. 

Tags: top!reader, bottom!Abby, temperature play, tied to bed, edging, throat holding(?) oral (r!abby), fingering (r!abby), strap-on usage (r!abby), aftercare, Abby calls reader ma’am. Everything happening here is consensual and was discussed beforehand.

Wc: 5.1k

The title from Arctic Monkeys "Brick by brick" (I wanna build you up/Brick by brick/I wanna break you down/Brick by brick)

MINORS DON'T INTERACT I'll hunt you for sport 

-/-/-/-/-/-

Usually Abby is a good girl. She likes the praise, she likes following your orders because you take care of her and she doesn't have to think for once. And you always reward her, spoil her even, but she doesn't behave like she's spoiled. She is a good girl.

However.

Sometimes Abby is bored. Sometimes she wants to be the pain in your ass and annoy you, because it's so hard to really piss you off and she loves finding this button that makes you cruel.

There's not so many rules Abby can break though, but she finds a way.

When Abby gets in that mood you usually can tell - she is too playful than her usual self. Abby who is suddenly tugging on your hair? Pinching your side? That's the innocent start of something that will piss you off eventually and you will put her in her place. Because later on her playfulness turns into her being moody and rude and if playful Abby can get you to be playful as well, rude Abby just makes you return all her bitching back to her.

But you like the game and you know why Abby is doing it, so you play along.

Today started exactly with Abby being a little mischievous as she pretended to bite you, which she knows she isn't allowed to, because you can't have visible marks at work, then stole all your books, then you heard "you can't make me" when you told her to move because she was in your way, and now you expect the last straw to break, because Abby has been frowning and pouting for a while and not in a fun way because all her efforts were useless against you. Or so she thought.

"Hey, princess, can you bring me some water?"

Abby looks up at you from the couch where she is reading.

"No." She is dead serious and it turns your voice into steel after the whole day of her being a brat.

"Abby." You cut sternly, not leaving a room for arguments.

And it works, because Abby gets up and goes to the kitchen. When she returns you don't look at her, you are too busy.

"Thanks." And then you look. "What is this, Abby?"

This is a glass full of ice cubes.

"Wait." Abby shrugs.

The blatant disrespect makes your blood boil. Abby sits back on the couch like nothing happened and that pisses you off even more.

So you take that glass in your hand and come over to the couch, grabbing Abby by the jaw hard enough for her cheeks to squish. She is immediately relaxing into you out of habit, but her stubborn pout tells you she is going to be a problem.

"You've been acting out the whole day, princess. Wanted to piss me off? Congratulations, baby, I am pissed off. So right now you're going to take that glass to the bedroom and you're going to get the ribbon and you're going to wait for me."

Abby frowns, clearly wanting to disobey, but you're faster, grabbing her by her hair and tugging her head backwards until her throat is bare for you.

"Don't make it worse, princess. You know I will make it worse if you act out again."

Abby feels thrills going down her spine - she fucking loves when you threaten her. Sometimes, when she can get you super pissed off, you seem actually dangerous and it turns her on so much she will try to make it worse on purpose.

"What do you need to say?"

"Yes."

The sharp tug on her hair is so worth it. It's painful and you're holding her too tight, but Abby enjoys it so much.

"Try again."

"Yes, ma'am." Abby corrects herself immediately and you smirk, satisfied.

"Go."

You let Abby go and give her the glass, and while she is going through the collection of ribbons in the closet you wash your hands, get your hair out of the way and take some towels with you.

When you enter the bedroom Abby is already stripped to her panties and she is sitting on her thighs with a ribbon in her hands. Abby is so pretty, especially since her clothes don't hide her curves and muscles, the combination that drives you crazy: Abby is so strong and ripped, but her cute tits are soft and round and her hips are plushy. You watch her for a moment and she looks back at you, but  doesn't say anything - she knows she is in trouble. The glass is on the drawer.

You'd usually praise her and tell her what a good job she did, but you're silent now. Brats don't get praised until they've learned their lesson.

"Lie down, hands above your head." You give an order and look at her expectedly. Abby obeys and looks at you with big innocent eyes as if she doesn't know what she did. "You wanted to get in trouble, princess. Now you'll have to face the consequences." You put the middle of the ribbon behind the metal bar of the bed and tie its padded ends around Abby's wrists.

"I just wanted to have fun." Abby complains and you smile cruelly at her.

"You've had your fun. Now I'll have mine." You brush your fingers along Abby's neck and she tenses. "What? Already desperate?"

"No."

You frown and squeeze her throat hard: it feels dangerous, like you're actually trying to hurt her, but Abby knows from how there's pressure only on her arteries that she is safe with you. You know exactly how hard to squeeze to get that adrenaline going but not to actually scare her.

"No, ma'am." Abby corrects herself, but your hand is still on her throat.

"It's the second time, princess." You say in your cold voice, and Abby shivers: the pet name makes it sound so gentle but the intonation makes it scary.

"I'm sorry, ma'am." Abby utters as she looks at you, desperate to see your satisfaction.

You let go of her throat and sit back between her legs. Abby is gorgeous, every line of her is a work of art and discipline, years of training showing in each curve. She is lethal and so fucking dangerous she could easily break every bone in your body, but instead she is helpless and weak underneath you, and it gets to your head every time.

You drag your nails on her chest just lightly and purposefully avoid her nipples, making circles over the edge of her areolas and Abby is breathing hard as she watches your hands move. She can't do anything, she can't touch you in any way and she can't get away from this. You watch Abby squirm and pant as you trace her ribs and go lower, over her navel and to her hips, appreciating how warm and soft her skin is. Abby bites her lip and expects you to touch her, but you caress her thighs, every fucking line of her muscles, and then you go up.

Abby barely holds a disappointed moan, but you look at her anyway and read her reaction. You know Abby is easy to tease, she is sensitive and responsive as fuck and she is probably getting desperate already, but you're not in the mood to take it easy on her.

Your eyes dart to the glass on the drawer and you smirk again, taking one of the ice cubes in your hand - it's already melting, slippery in your hand. Abby is watching you with wide eyes, waiting for what's next, and you smirk at her again.

"Do you think it will feel good, princess?"

"Yes, ma'am." Abby nods and waits more.

"Let's find out."

You put the ice cube on her abs first just to taste the waters, and Abby tenses and gasps. You watch her while you move the ice cube to her breastbone, just between her tits, and her breath hitches, goosebumps covering her skin from the sudden cold. You lean down and kiss her neck with an open mouth, savouring the salty taste of her.

"How does it feel?" You whisper in her ear and she shudders.

"Good, ma'am. Really good." Abby swallows, her lips dry.

"But do bad girls deserve to feel good?" You tease her. You're curious if she's already going to beg or do you need to wait more.

"I'm sorry ma'am, I'll be good." Oh, she is already begging. Cute little thing.

"It doesn't matter that you'll be good, baby. What matters is that you've been bad."

You put the ice cube on her nipple and Abby mewls and twitches, tries to get away from the cold, but you press her down. You circle her nipple with the smooth ice cube and it perks up right away. Abby whines, but it only amuses you. You feel how cold her skin gets under your fingertips and you lean down to suck on her nipple and she arches into you, the change in temperature feels too intense.

"Ma'am- ma'am-" She whispers desperately, her thighs are closing on you, but you force them apart. "Please-"

"Shsh. You wanna be good?" Abby nods. "Then be quiet."

Abby closes her mouth and you move away, tracing the ice cube to her neck, leaving a wet cold trace on her skin just to lick it right after. Abby whimpers and bucks her hips again, hoping she'd be able to hump your thigh, but you move away again and leave her no chance of relief.

"I think this one is too warm now." You take another cube and rub it against her other nipple. Abby whimpers and tries to get away, but with her hands tied she doesn't have enough room and you smile. You look down and she is so fucking wet already as if you let that cube melt in her panties. "Oh, you're enjoying it, huh?"

"I do, ma'am, it feels so good." Abby whispers frantically.

You hum and lean down to bite on her nipple, licking the cold water from her skin and Abby moans and pulls her arms, probably to touch you, but the ribbon keeps her in place. The contrast of your hot mouth on her right nipple and a cold ice cube on her left nipple makes her head spin from how good it feels and she is sure she won't last when you actually touch her.

You take the ice cube off her nipple and put it in your mouth, letting it clink on your teeth, and you pull her underwear down and throw it somewhere on the floor.

"Open your legs." You order and Abby obediently spreads her legs. "You see how good you can be? But you decided it would be fun to be bad." You say it with mock disappointment as you lie down between her legs, moving the ice cube on your tongue. Abby is wet and so fucking pretty you lose your mind every time you see her naked.

You give Abby no warning, no built up, nothing, and you press your tongue right on her clit. Abby shrieks in surprise because your tongue is cold and when you move it up and down the ice water drips on her clit and it's so fucking intense and it's a little painful, but it mixes with pleasure and Abby squirms around, her arms pull again and again because it's so much and she feels like she is close and then you push your fingers into her and you start fucking her hard and your tongue and your fingers feel so good and your tongue and the ice cube and Abby is done-

Except her orgasm doesn't come. Your mouth is not on her anymore and you pull your fingers out. You lick your lips and clean your chin with the back of your hand while Abby looks at you, upset.

"Oh, you thought I'd let you cum?" You laugh and Abby wants to cry. "Oh no, princess. You'll have to wait."

"No, ma'am, please." Abby begs and bucks her hips. "Please, I was so close."

"Poor little brat." You coo mockingly and take another ice cube: they're melting so you know you don't have long to play with Abby like this. "You told me to wait until all of them melt, right? Well, I'm going to melt them on you."

Abby whimpers and arches into you again like a cat, and you caress her stomach in appreciation.

"Pretty." You cannot not say it, even if you're supposed to be strict right now. Abby is beautiful and you can't stop telling her that.

"Thank you, ma'am."

You are surprised to hear it - usually Abby gets shy when you compliment her, but apparently she really wants to be good right now.

You put the ice cube on her knee and move it down, closer to her cunt, and you can feel how she is shaking. Abby is so wet she is dripping after almost cumming and she looks so good like this you even consider eating her out again right now, but you want her to calm down a little.

Abby is watching you with the saddest puppy eyes known to a man, but it doesn't move you. You move the ice cube closer to her pubic and put it just under her lower stomach, knowing that if you leave it there to melt all cold water will go on conjunctions of her thighs.

"What if I just leave it here to melt, hm?" You draw with a cube on her pubic and Abby twitches, bucks her hips again. "And I won't touch you until it's gone, what if I do that?"

"No, please, ma'am." Abby begs and you suck a bruise on her thigh. "I'll be good, I won't try to get in trouble, I promise!"

You laugh.

"Don't lie to me, princess." You bite down on her thigh hard enough to leave teeth marks.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, please-"

You take the ice cube inside your mouth again and while you're swirling it around, you slowly drag your fingers between her folds, circling her clit gently. She is warm and absolutely drenched and you don't want to stop touching her. Abby tenses and closes her eyes, and it makes you smile, but it's not a nice smile.

You lean down to her nipple and suck on it, but every time you swirl your tongue around her bead the ice cube touches it too and Abby squirms, whimpering. You suck her nipple inside your mouth to keep it in place and push the ice cube on top of her bead, only swirling it around until Abby's nipple feels cold and Abby is overwhelmed, lost in pleasure, because your fingers never stopped playing with her clit and your mouth feels amazing.

"Ma'am can I cum? Please let me cum you make me feel so good, please." Abby is babbling and your fingers get faster.

Abby is so relieved you took pity on her, god, she needs to cum so bad and your fingers are so perfect she wants them in her mouth and in her cunt and everywhere she could get them-

"Ma'am I'm gonna cum, you'll make me cum, ma'am please-"

And everything is gone again. You let her nipple out of your mouth and suck on your wet fingers, relishing in Abby's taste.

Abby whines, angry and frustrated, and you laugh, amused.

"I didn't tell you you could cum, did I?" You lightly slap her pussy and she mewls. "You'll cum when all the ice in that glass turns to water."

"Ma'am, please-" Abby sobs when you force her thighs apart to look at her wet pretty cunt.

"Please what?"

"Please touch me, ma'am I need you, please-" Abby opens her thighs more and the water from the ice cube flows down.

"Good girl, begging so well, opening for me." You praise finally and Abby whimpers and pulls her arms again, her biceps and her abs flexing.

You lazily thumb her clit and she jerks away, sensitive. You know the more you edge her the less time she'll need to become desperate between each time, and you want her to cry for you, so you don't go slow on her, riling her up again. Abby is loud and she kicks her legs on the bed because it feels good and she has been close two times already, but the ice in the glass is not water yet.

So you stop again and Abby whimpers and tries to press her thighs together, but you press them to the bed and you can see how her clit throbs and her hole clenches around nothing. So you push two fingers inside and Abby sobs, because you're not being slow at all, your pace is brutal and she is on edge immediately, and you know by the feeling of her tightening on you she is getting very very close. You keep fucking her until her thighs start to shake and her moans match your speed because that's it, Abby is going to cum, and once again you pull your fingers out and keep her thighs open while she is thrashing on the bed, pulling on the ribbon so hard the metal bar creaks.

"Please ma'am, please, I wanna cum, please let me cum-"

You look at Abby closely and no, she is not crying yet, so you ignore her and lick the water that is left on her. The ice cube is nowhere to be found, but you don't care. You position yourself between Abby's thighs and push your tongue in her, nudging her clit with your nose. Abby jumps and whimpers, so overwhelmed and desperate: she is so fucking close, and your tongue feels so good in her.

"Ma'am-" Abby sobs and you lick a strip from her hole to her clit. "I'm so close, ma'am, please-"

You fucking love when Abby is begging. You slap her thigh lightly and put your mouth back on her, and finally you hear her little sniffles: she is so overwhelmed she is crying now, desperate to cum. It's intense and Abby can't think, her whole world is concentrated on your mouth and how your tongue rubs her clit just right and how close she is again. Abby's thighs are closing on your head just as her orgasm approaches and you think it's cute how easy it is to read her.

You push her thighs back and just as Abby starts to twitch like she is about to cum, you straighten up on the bed. Abby sobs and tries to close her thighs despite your grip on her, but you double down and press her back harder.

"Ma'am-" Abby sobs and her cute little sniffles soften you.

"You're doing so well, princess." You praise her and kiss her cheek, her forehead and her eyelids. "It's too much, isn't it? You wanna cum?"

Abby sniffles again and chases your mouth, so you kiss her slowly, giving her a moment to calm down.

"It hurts, ma'am." That makes you alert. You quickly look at her wrists, worried the ribbon is hurting her.

"What hurts?" You ask gently, knowing how delicate Abby is  when she is teased like this.

"It hurts because I wanna cum." She admits under her breath and you relax.

"Yeah? You think you deserve to cum now? You've been a good girl for me?"

Abby is too embarrassed to own the fact that yes, she has been good this whole time, so she doesn't say anything.

"Yeah, you've been such a good girl for me." You say, proud of her. "I'll let you cum, baby, but you need to do one thing for me, okay?"

"Thank you, ma'am." Abby sighs and you kiss you again.

"I want you to turn on your stomach and present that pretty ass for me, okay? Don't worry, I'll help you."

Abby nods and turns on her stomach without a problem, the ribbon is long and her arms are not crossed, but she can't get on her knees like that, so you help her push her thighs apart and up. Abby lies down exactly like she knows you like her: her back arched, her thighs wide apart as if she is stretching them, and her pretty, soaking pussy on display. She looks like a cat in heat and you want to ruin her.

You push your pants down and get the strap out. Abby can't see you like this and she gasps when she feels the fat head of your cock running up and down her folds, nudging her clit. Abby is so wet and you feel how puffy she is from the edging and you just can't help yourself.

You sit down on your knees and push two fingers into her, revelling in how tight and hot she is and how her thighs twitch. Abby whimpers and pushes back on your fingers and she is so fucking beautiful like this.

“I’m so fucking lucky to have such a beautiful girl.” You kiss her ass cheek and pump your fingers slowly while Abby mewls into the pillow. “Fucking look at you, so pretty and all mine.” You kiss her back until you reach her neck and you suck a bruise there, marking her as yours. “Are you mine, princess?”

“Yours, I’m yours, ma’am.” Abby whimpers and you kiss her cheek.

“Thank you, baby.” You murmur into her ear and pick up the pace, fucking Abby hard and fast until you feel her tightening on you again. Abby is clinging to her pillow like her life depends on it, moaning loudly, but once again you slow down and pull out. Abby whines, confused. “I know baby, I just wanted to feel your pussy tighten on me again. God you’re so wet, pretty girl.” You lick your fingers and grab the lube.

You spread it over your strap and steady Abby by her hips before pushing inside. Abby whines the whole time and her thighs spread wider to take you deeper, her back muscles showing as she arches into you. You bottom out and stay like this for a second, caressing Abby’s ass and hips, leaving small kisses on her spine. You watch how Abby's pussy is stretched on your strap and your hands tighten on her hips as you restrain yourself from moving yet.

“Good girl, took all of it.” You start moving slowly at first, letting Abby adjust and find a comfortable position. You watch your strap disappear in her and this is the best sight in your life, her big plump ass jiggling every time you thrust into her. “You want to go faster, princess?”

“Yes ma’am. Please make me cum.” Abby begs and pushes back and you knead her ass.

“I will, of course I will. Won’t leave my babygirl without giving her what she wants.” You grab her hips tighter and thrust into her, setting a hard pace to hit her g-spot at each thrust. “I can feel how tight you are, baby.”

“It’s so big, ma’am, fuck.” Abby sobs as you drag your cock over her walls. “It feels good, you make me feel so good, fucking hell-”

You chuckle and keep fucking her, not changing your pace: you’ve had your fun and now you want to make Abby cum, so you fully concentrate on her. Your movements are rough and hard and you push her back on you at each thrust just to hear her shriek and whimper. Abby mewls and squirms around, overwhelmed and overstimulated after being edged for so long, and she can’t think about anything except how fucking good it feels, how your fingers dig into her ass and hips, holding her like you own her, and she can’t help how loud she is, how her mewls and whines are echoing through the bedroom - it’s too much, it almost painful, and she doesn’t notice how you bend down and take what is left of the ice cubes into your mouth. You push her back on your cock and Abby shudders, her thighs are shaking now.

“Are you close, princess?” You say as the ice clinks on your teeth, your breath is hitched from fucking her.

“Yes ma’am, I’m so close, you’re gonna make me cum, please-” Abby is kneading the pillow, hiding her face in it from how overwhelming it is, trying to ground herself.

You hum and snake one of your hands over her hip to rub her clit while you lick her neck with your cold tongue, and Abby shouts and shudders so violently you barely keep her in one place. You know it's too much, she is crying again, but you keep fucking her, because you feel her getting tighter and tighter, not letting you pull out as easily as before.

"Look at the glass, princess." You growl in her ear and punctuate your words with hard thrusts. Abby is too out of it so you wrap your hand around her throat and lift her head. "Is there any ice left?"

Abby sobs, because your pace is relentless and she can't fucking understand what you're saying, but she opens her eyes and looks at the glass.

"Answer me." Another hard thrust.

"No, no ma'am." Abby whines and you feel her tears on your hand.

"Good." You let Abby fall back on her pillow and you bring your hand back to her clit and start playing with it. "Cum."

Abby shrieks and tenses and the liquid hits your hand and thighs. Fuck, Abby just squirted, and it makes your brain fuzzy and you are not stopping, fucking her through her orgasm. Abby is sobbing and pulling on the ribbon so hard you can hear the fabric tearing, she raises her ass in a clear attempt to escape you, but you press her down and bottom out, not caring if it’s too much: your cock needs to be in her to the hilt when she cums.

You don’t move and you kiss Abby’s shoulders, giving her time. She is whining weakly and presses back to you to be closer.

“Good girl.” You kiss your words into her cheek and Abby whines. "You squirted for me, baby, you did so good." You kiss her shoulder blade and Abby leans into your touch. "My pretty girl."

Abby whines and you know she is too deep right now - sometimes she gets so overwhelmed she goes fully non-verbal, especially if she cums as hard as she just did. You caress her sides, pressing your front to her back, and undo the ribbon on her wrists. You’ve never been so thankful for the padded parts you stitched to all your ribbons, because even with them Abby’s wrists are a little red. Abby is not ready to move yet, so you just continue kissing her and caressing her.

“Ma’am.” Abby calls quietly and you smile.

“Hello, princess.” You kiss her neck. “Are you ready for me to pull out?”

“Yeah.”

Very slowly you pull your thighs back and whisper little “shh, it’s alright, you’re doing so good” to Abby until your cock is fully out. Everything is wet: your pants, Abby’s thighs, the towel under her, and you just watch how her pussy glistens in the low light of your bedroom, mesmerised. Abby is fucked out, so pretty and puffy, and you lean down to taste her, you just can't help yourself.

Abby whines shortly and jerks away, but you soothe her with your hand on her hip while you slowly and gently lick her clean. She tastes better than everything in the fucking world.

Abby sighs, content, and relaxes into your mouth: you're not trying to rile her up again, you're just showing your obsession with her pussy and it makes her feel so wanted. Abby knows you're a big softie even when you're strict and she knows she has you wrapped around her finger and it makes her feel feral for you, makes her want to give everything she has to you and take everything you give her in return.

"You wanna cum again, pretty girl?" You ask when you've finished cleaning her up, but Abby is soaked again because your mouth feels good.

"I'm tired." Abby murmurs into the pillow.

"It's not a no, princess." You chuckle and kiss her thigh. “I’ll be gentle, okay?”

“Okay.”

This time you’re not fast and Abby feels her pleasure come in small soft waves as you gently rub her clit on your tongue. Abby sighs and arches her back more into you, lightly rocking her hips against your face. She feels lazy and light and her head is empty, and tongue is pressed on her clit just enough to keep her in this hazy, pleased state. You pick up your pace just a little and Abby’s orgasm starts to build up in her lower stomach so softly she is almost quiet except for her heavy breathing. It doesn’t come crushing on her, instead it feels like all her bones turn to jelly for a second and Abby shudders quietly as her slick fills your mouth. You take it all in while rubbing her thighs to soothe her.

“You did so well for me today.” You kiss her shoulder blade. “You took it so well, I’m so proud of you.” Abby hums in response and you chuckle. “Sleepy?”

Abby hums again, agreeing.

“Stay awake a little longer.”

You grab another towel and gently clean Abby up before helping her turn on her back. You’re very careful with her arms, slowly moving them and massaging them, helping Abby rotate them to ease the soreness. She groans a few times and you pay extra attention to the parts that made her uncomfortable.

“There you go, princess. I know you want to sleep, but we need to shower, and change the bed sheets.”

“Whose fault is that?” Abby murmurs and opens her eyes just to look at you. You laugh quietly and help her stand and then walk to the shower.

Abby drapes all over you as you wash her, her head resting on your shoulder.

“Does anything hurt? I was pretty rough with you.” You know Abby’s shoulders are sore for sure, and it makes you worried. You don’t want to hurt Abby under any circumstances.

“I’m sore.” She mumbles. “It was very intense.”

“Is it good or bad?”

“Good.” Abby chuckles into your neck. “I liked it. I'm glad we decided to try the ice thing.” You kiss her shoulder and hug her, pressing her closer to you.

"The ice thing." You chuckle. "Your brain is still a mush."

"Yeah." Abby sighs, content. "Maybe-"

"What is it?"

"Maybe next time you can edge me longer?"

"Yeah." You smirk. "I can."

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @subeddieweek, day two.

A Firm Touch

Prompt: First Time | Word Count: 1912 | Rating: E | CW: Reference to Past Recreational Drug Use | Tags: First Time, Established Relationship, Being Restrained, Light Praise Kink, A Bit of Subspace, Insecure Eddie, Virgin Eddie, Service Top Steve, Working Out The Kinks (Literally), Boys in Love, Just Trying to Figure Themselves Out

Eddie squirms away from Steve's grasp, again, another night fucking ruined and Steve sighs in frustration. Running his hand through his hair. He's disheveled, and Eddie wants…but he can't. It's not gonna work.

This is never gonna work, and he doesn't know why he thought it might. He just wanted it to, so goddamn bad.

The knot in Eddie's stomach grows, because he knows that Steve is getting frustrated. Not by the lack of sex, Eddie doesn't think, but more by the lack of understanding of why they aren't having sex. Eddie's been trying, then shying away, stalling and Steve's been patient, but Eddie knows he's running out of runway. 

He's being a fucking cocktease, he's pretty sure, though that wasn't the intent.

"Eddie…" Steve trails off, "what? What is it this time?" he asks, hands finding his hips. The question comes across harsher than his voice actually sounds, but he's staring at Eddie in a way Eddie hates. He doesn't want to be looked at, stared at, perceived, known. 

Eddie shrugs, and Steve lets out a breath that's pure annoyance. Like something he'd aim at the kids when they are fraying his nerves. Eddie doesn't want that sound pointed in his direction, it makes him feel horrible. Worthless. 

Finally, Steve speaks again, "I just. I can't read your signals. They're all over the fucking place. Do you not want this? Or not with me? What? Just, what? Tell me," Steve pleads, and it's tinged with self-doubt, and maybe a little anger, and it makes Eddie withdraw further. Steve's got his own baggage, and Eddie knows it. But Eddie can't just say these things, can't ask for them.

So, Eddie clams up.

Because the other option is to jump right in, ready for a full fight. And he doesn't want to do that, so he just stays silent.

"Okay, I'll go," Steve says, and Eddie doesn't want him to go. But he doesn't know how to get him to stay. 

"Don't go," Eddie says, barely audible, squeezing his hands into fists so hard that his short nails are digging into his palms.

"Then tell me, and I'll do whatever you want," Steve says, soft, worried. Begging a little. "I can't keep guessing wrong. It's killing me."

"I'm just not built like you, Harrington," Eddie finally says. Hoping that will end the discussion for one more night. Maybe Steve will still stay, and give Eddie a little more time to figure his shit out.

"What do you mean by that?" Steve asks, his brow furrowed, as he's folding his hands in his lap.

"Nothing."

"It's not nothing," Steve answers, "obviously."

Eddie is annoyed, frustrated. But he knows he's not gonna get anywhere with soft, sweet Steve Harrington running his hands all over him, like he's made of glass. Been there, done that. And it never ends in anything other than in frustration. There's something broken in him, and Steve would never understand that. 

"Eddie, I-" 

"You don't want me. You don't want what I want. What I need." 

"What do you need, Eddie?" Steve asks, putting his hands on Eddie's arms, gently.

Eddie's exhausted, and he finally snaps, "I need you to hold me down. I need you to handcuff me and…" he trails off when he sees Steve's face. "I need a firm touch. A firm hand. To get off." 

"Oh," Steve says, soft and shocked. Disgusted, probably. 

Eddie looks down. 

And then Steve's big, warm hand is on his thigh. Pressing down. Firmly. 

"I can't, like, hit you," Steve says, face way too earnest.

"I don't need you to hit me," Eddie says with a small smile. He wouldn't be opposed, but if Steve won't get off on it, there's no way.

"But I can be firm. Well, I can try. I want to try." 

Of course he does, because Steve Harrington always jumps in with both feet. Eddie's seen it in action. He just never expected to see it here, in the bedroom. He just thought he'd be able to get over it, whatever hang up he has, but it hasn't happened. 

"Okay, Steve, you can try. If you don't like it, you say so." 

"It's you," Steve says with a grin, "I think I'll like it just fine." 

Eddie just smiles at him, embarrassed, but hopeful.

"Tell me what you like, what your previous sexual partners have done for you that worked," Steve says, like he's ready to take mental notes.

Eddie laughs, shaking his head, "No previous sexual partners. But I'm flattered that you think that's a possibility."

"Then how do you know…?" Steve trails off.

"I still know how I feel. I know how I get off, alone," Eddie answers.

And that…how, is not very easy, never has been. At least not alone.

"Of course. Of course you do," Steve says, like he should have known that. Eddie doesn't think that's a thing that most guys ever contemplate. Eddie imagines Steve can get off easily, without even thinking about it. 

A few quick tugs, thinking about a pretty girl, or a cute guy, and that's all it takes. Eddie wishes it were that simple. He's trying to not feel embarrassed. It's Steve, and he's gotten used to the fact that he can tell Steve anything. 

And if he wants this to work, and he does, then this conversation has to happen.

"Okay, where do we start?" Steve asks, sounding chipper, and ready to go. To act. Now that they've got even a hint of a plan. Eddie cannot believe how brave he is. He's a take-charge kinda guy, maybe this will come naturally to him.

Eddie knows asking Steve to start with handcuffs is crazy, and he's never even been in them before, couldn't do it on his own, and as much as he wants to be, that's for later. Hopefully. Someday, maybe. So, he just lays face down on the bed. 

"Can you just…hold me down, maybe? Restrain me? With your hands?" Eddie asks.

"Yes," Steve says, like he's one-hundred percent certain that's something he can do, and then rolls him over, with a confidence that really works on Eddie. 

Steve's got big hands, hands Eddie has fantasized about on more than one occasion. 

And he grabs both of Eddie's wrists in one of his, and pins them above Eddie's head, pressing them into the pillow.

They aren't even undressed, but Steve crawls on top of him. Sitting on his thighs. 

"This good?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. It's good.

He's clearly having to stretch to hold Eddie like that, so Eddie isn't surprised when Steve scoots up his body, until he's off his thighs, until they are crotch to crotch, and Steve doesn't shy away from that. He just pushes down against him, as he presses on his wrists even harder now that he has a better angle.

Steve's hard, and Eddie still isn't. Maybe this won't work. Maybe he's not meant to have anything as good as Steve.

But Steve keeps grinding down, over and over, as he squeezes Eddie's wrists. Then, Steve scoots up further, his hard cock pressing into Eddie's belly as Steve leans over him, his chest right over Eddie's face, and Eddie feels boxed in, Steve's shirt hanging down, brushing against his nose. The scent of Steve flooding Eddie's nostrils with every movement Steve's body makes. Eddie feels hidden. Secure. Safe. And he closes his eyes and just feels it all, fully. 

Enjoys.

When Steve shifts again, Eddie realizes he's hard. He doesn't know when that happened, but it feels so good. Steve is still rutting against him, and the pressure of him holding him to the bed feels like it's dug a hook into Eddie's center, and now there's an anchor pulling him down into the most amazing place he's ever been.

He feels drunk. He feels like he's taken the perfect amount of K, and now he's gently slipping into a hole.

Steve's not really doing much of anything, Eddie knows it's simple, but whatever Steve is doing is perfect. It's working.

Then, Steve leans forward, putting more weight on Eddie's wrists, holding them in place as he nearly lays on top of Eddie fully. Leaning most of his weight into it. Bringing them back together, hard cock pressed to hard cock. Still rolling his hips, grinding against him in slow, deliberate circles.

And even as Steve pushes all the air out of his lungs, Eddie feels like he can breathe, finally.

Steve's heavier than he looks, and Eddie is lost in the security he feels being under Steve.

He never even knew to dream about this, but here it is, his wildest dreams coming true at the hands of Steve Harrington.

"You feel so good under me," Steve says close to Eddie's ear, "you're being so good. Getting hard, just for me."

Eddie moans. 

"That's good," Steve says again, "are you ready for me to let you go? Do you want me to touch you?"

Eddie shakes his head no, then makes his request, "Lay on me."

And Steve lowers his whole body to Eddie's, pressing him into the mattress. Chest to chest, crotch to crotch. Eddie can feel every point of contact, every point of pressure, and it's good. So good.

His wrists are still tight in Steve's grasp, but now he feels like his whole body is being held in the same way. Safe. Secure.

Steve rolls his hips, one more time, and Eddie attempts to lift up his hips, tries to get his ass off the bed, but he can't, and he comes in his jeans. Steve following him over the edge.

Tears leak out of Eddie's eyes, and his breathing is shallow with Steve on top of him, but he's happy, and relieved, and kind of boneless. Steve finally shifts so he can hold Eddie's wrists in one hand instead of two, lighter now, and brushes the fingers of his open hand against Eddie's cheek. Face near Eddie's, grounding him.

"Whenever you're ready, tell me what you need. What to do," Steve whispers, and Eddie nods.

Eddie finally felt ready for Steve to let him go, so Steve's shifted so he's laying beside him, not on him, kissing his face, his neck, taking care of him like he always does. Just in a new way now. When Eddie pictured submitting, in the abstract, he was expecting punishment. Pain. To be used, and probably discarded. Thought that's what he wanted. Rough, hard, mean. He thought he needed to be hurt, or tortured, just a little.

And maybe he still does.

But Steve Harrington is none of those things, and his style of taking control isn't either. Steve's a take-charge kind of guy, but there's a softness there that Eddie never wants to see go away, honestly. 

"Was that okay?" Steve asks, and he looks so fucking nervous.

"More than," Eddie says, looking right in his eyes, "thank you."

"So, the handcuffs?" Steve asks, hint of a grin pulling at his lip.

"Wishful thinking," Eddie admits. Then raises his eyebrows, "Why? You interested?"

"For sure. Can we ease into it?" Steve asks, wrapping his arm around Eddie's waist, holding him tight, still so tight, and Eddie's sure he'll be asleep in minutes, feeling this comfortable.

This secure.

This safe.

This loved.

"Definitely," Eddie says, and closes his eyes, turning his face towards Steve's, nuzzling into him. Letting himself be held, not only down, but close.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @subeddieweek and follow along with the fun! 🖤

Notes: It was harder to write a first time (for both!) and have them have super defined roles. They're figuring their shit out. Together. And I like think Service Top Steve can grow into Pleasure Dom Steve, but not right out of the gate.

My other fics for this challenge week:

Day One Day Three Day Four Day Five Day Six Day Seven

[littlestsheriff]

mama's little sheriff

paring: mama! cait x masc regressor! reader

summary: sometimes being a big boy just it doesn't work and caitlyn knows that

tags: agere, age regression, cg! caitlyn kiramman, regressor reader, comfort, comfort itens, boyre, boy regressor, sfw, fluffy, sheriff caitlyn, reader regressed around 2-4

autor notes: it's my first regressor reader fic in a while, i hope you like it :)) credits for lottiesboy and criblver for the style! if u want to check, i already have another fanfics on my wattpad :]

You knock on the door and enter carefully. Caitlyn is focused on talking to some enforcers, discussing some important information. But out of the corner of her eye, she notices you and signals for you to enter the room. You're visibly upset about something and she picks up on it. The conversation seems to go on forever, but she assures you that it's already over. Once the enforcers have left the room, she gets up from her chair and walks towards you.

"Darling, what's wrong? You seems a little upset. Is there something bothering you?"

Anxiety takes over your body, you can't respond except for a nervous glance at Caitlyn. She gently puts her hands on your face, trying to calm you down.

"It's alright sweetie. You can tell me what's upsetting you. Im here to help you, you know that, right?"- She says in her soft voice.

You hesitate, but Caitlyn's gentle gaze makes your heart calm and you nod.

"It's because... I failed. I'm sorry"- You say with a sad look in your face.

Her heart melts as she listens you. She gentle places her hand on your shoulder.

"Sweetheart, it's okay. Everyone make mistakes. We all fail sometimes. What happened, my darling boy?"

"I supposed to be a big boy now, but i can't even do that... I failed with you"- You try your best to not let yourself slip

Caitlyn's heart aches at your words. Her maternal instincts kick in seeing you so vulnerable and little. She pulls you into a hug, holding you close to her, feeling how little you are at the moment.

"Oh my love, don't say that. You've never failed to me, never. I know sometimes is too difficult to be a big boy, isn't it?"

You dont answer, just nods with a sad puppy face. Her heart aches even more, trying to sooth you, stroking your hair.

"It's okay, baby. You don't need to be big all the time. Sometimes you just need a little time"- She says with a tender gaze. "You're feeling small now, that's my priority. I can take a break and stay with you, okay darling?"

You feel the guilt sinking into your chest. Caitlyn would have to take time off work to look after you and that makes you feel guilty.

"But mam- Cait, im supposed to be a big boy"

Her heart aches as she listens to you, she gentle cups your face, caressing your cheek with her thumb.

"Shhh, baby. There's no supposed to be anything. You don't have to be big if you can't. Somtimes It's doesn't work and that's okay, alright? You don't have to force yourself to be big if you're feeling so little. Mama is always here for you, my love"

She pulls you into a embrace, gentle rocking you. And you two stay in that silent embrace, but it is cozy.

"Okay, baby boy, now let youserlf completely slip into your little headspace, alright? Mama's here to take care of you"

"But mama, and what if one of your enforcers see me regressed? I can't let myself slip here"

"Oh, i got it sweetheart. I understand why you're worried. But don't worry, no one will barge in or catch you in your little boy mode, i promise you. But even if they do, mama will handle it. I'll keep my kid safe"

Seeing your mama's confidence makes you feel better, less worried. You can't help but chuckle

"Using your sheriff power again mama, how naughty"

Caitlyn chuckles, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mischievousness

"You know me too well, right, baby boy? Of course I'll use my sheriff power if i've to. I'm not gonna let anyone mess with my kiddo, no metter where we are or who sees us. Mama's a sheriff, and also a Kiramman, no one can mess with her"- She gives a cheeky smile to you. "And we can lock the door, it will give us more privacity and you can be my adorable little boy. Mama will use her sheriff power and no one will disturb us"- She says, smiling to you.

She take some steps until the door and lock it, then back to you. Your eyes wander to your backpack near the couch, remembering what you brought with you.

"I brought something"

Caitlyn follows your gaze to the backpack near to the couch, and her curiosity is piqued.

"Oh, you brought something with you? What is inside the bag, my love? Show mama. I'm curious to see what you have"

You walk over to the backpack, pick it up and open it, revealing what's inside, some of your regression gear. Caitlyn takes some steps closer.

"Oh, my prince, you brought your gear with you? That's so sweet. You want to choose by yourself or do you want mama to pick for you?"- She says with her voice filled with affection.

You look to her with your puppy face and she knew you started to regress further.

"Mama choose"

She smiles gently and nods

"Of course, prince. Mama will pick for you. I know what my baby boy needs"

She glances through the itens, carefully considering each item. Then, she selects a blue pacifier and a puppy plush. Caitlyn gently lifts the paci between your lips, slipping it into your mouth. Then she hands the plush to you.

"Here you go, baby. All comfy now?"- She gentle asks, with a maternal tone.

You nod and she smiles to you. She sits on her chair and pats her lap, signaling to you come to her lap.

"Come here, baby boy!"

You runs to her and sits in her lap excited. She can't help but chuckle with your enthusiasm.

"Here you go, my little prince. Sitting right here where you belong, in mama's lap. Let me hold you for a moment, okay?"

You nod and rests your head on her chest and she begins to rock you gently. The time seems to stop when you're in Caitlyn's lap, being wrapped in her warmth like a blanket. Then, the paperwork on her desk catch your attention, seemed a very important document. She notices your glance at her paperwork.

"You curious about mama's paperwork? Let me show you"

Caitlyn picks the document on the desk and shows to you. She explain to you the importance of her work. Then, back the paper to the desk.

"So, darling, i need to finish them, but don't worry, i'll wold you all the time and you can be my little helper and keep me company, okay?"

"I'll be a sheriff like mama?"- You ask with your eyes shinning

She can't help but chuckle. She give a kiss on your forehead, filled with affection.

"Of course you'll. Now you are a little sheriff, mama's little sheriff. Can you be a good boy for mama and stay still for me? I promise it won't take long"

You nod with a smile behind your pacifier, Caitlyn smiles back to you and kiss the top of your head. She gently adjusts you on her lap, making sure you're comfortable. She also grabs a couple of documents in one hand, while gently runs her fingers through your hair with the other hand.

She starts working through her paperwork, her focus mostly on the documents in the desk. But that doesn't mean she didn't pay attention on you, she still keeps her other hand around you, occasionally giving head pats and caresses, or murmuring sweet words and praises.

You just relax in her arms, feeling her warmth and the material of her uniform. Having you against her brings the sense of comfort she needs to concentrate on the task. When the pile of document seems smaller, she lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Almost done, my little sheriff! You don't know how much I want to cuddle with you"- She says with her voice filled with affection.

Don't let too much to her finish all the paperwork, organizing the last pile of documents. She sighs in relief, relaxing in the chair. You give a smile to her as a praise for her work.

"Good job mama!"

Caitlyn's heart melts in affection, she gives a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"And good job for being a well-behaved little boy. Thanks for being so patient to mama, made everything easier for me focus and get my work done. You're the best little sheriff"

You look at her with your big puppy eyes.

"Now we can cuddle?"

"Of course, my darling! We can cuddle as long you want. You've deserve some cuddles for being a excellent good boy! Mama loves you so much"

She gently wraps her arms around you, rocking back and forth. Sometimes being a big boy is a hard task, but that's okay, because mama is always there to make things easier.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Why Not 🔞

In which Jungkook has you figured out. Dirty humor, mean and bratty- you're pretty much simply a bitch. So why are you crying over some scraped up knees and a dirty plushy?

Tags/Warnings: non-Idol AU, enemies to lovers, reader acts like she could kill but is actually a cinnamon roll, Jungkook just simply is a cinnamon roll, adult themes, fluff, romance, short!reader go cry about it, smut but very low-carb (handjob, cum in pants oops), slight DDLG-aspects/themes? Soft daddy/dom vibes from kook?

Length: longer than JKs Dick career

Additional Content: How So (Part 2)

A/N: have to post it shortened bc the longer version breaks the app :) have some fluff comfort after all that angst psycho shit I posted.

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It's not like Jungkook hates you. He really, honestly, doesn't.

In fact, he admires how honest you are, in a way. You seem comfortable with yourself, which shows in a healthy amount of confidence, no thought wasted on what people might think of your outfit or makeup. You're very expressive and creative, and you always work out solutions whenever everyone else would suggest simply giving up.

You're just.. too bold for him. He's not really interested in most things you discuss- which is often something lewd- and he also doesn't really share any interests with you. You're a miss know-it-all, you get dramatic if you don't get your way, and you manipulate people around you to even out your road ahead. You make demeaning jokes about yourself and you always put yourself down in a comedic manner- and he just doesn't like that. Even so, he still never casts you out, or ignores you. It's odd, because whenever you have one on one interactions, he can't help but feel like you're not the same as with others around. Just like right now.

You're currently all eating at a sushi place - you're sitting across from him, cleavage dangerously exposed, but he's got no right to be offended by it. In a way, he admires the way you seem to be so comfortable. But he can't help but notice the way you keep adjusting your top all the time, tugging and pulling constantly.

If it's making you so fidgety, why wear it? It irritates him a bit. He'll never understand why most girls choose fashion over comfort.

Your best friend Namjoon had told him before that you're actually not like this at all. That you're a great friend, caring and gentle and actually very fragile, and even a little shy and quiet when no one's around - however, Jungkook believes that's just your best friend trying to make you look good. You're totally fine the way you are - you're just too much for him personally. There's nothing wrong with that.

Just because he might not enjoy your personality, doesn't mean you have to change it.

But he doesn't question it, continues to eat and listen in on conversations, laughing along jokes and funny stories. He likes the energy of this. It's unforced, comfortable, easy. He's just about to continue eating, when he notices the glance you throw at his plate, something you've done a couple of times now, seemingly thinking about something, before looking away again, engaging in the conversation as if to distract yourself. "Do you want a piece?" He asks you as soon as there's a good moment, a bit more quiet as to not interrupt the current topic being discussed at the table.

You look at him, wide-eyed just for a second, before you shake your head. "It's fine. I'll maybe try it next time, though." You tell him with a smile. "Does it taste good?" You wonder, and he can't help but be amused. How come you can make straight-up dick-jokes at the dinner table, but you can't accept his offered food that you clearly got your eyes on?

"I don't know if my taste is the same as yours." He shrugs, watching as you chew on the inside of your lip now. "Let's trade, if that makes you feel better." He offers instead, and at that, you visibly perk up, eagerly putting a piece of yours on his plate to receive his.

You're.. kind of cute like this. Oddly so.

He watches without staring too much as you eat his gifted piece of sushi, clearly enjoying the taste of it as you swing your legs under the table a little. "This is good." You comment, making him nod with a smile before you both pay attention to the conversation again.

He doesn't really think much about the whole interaction afterwards.

It's not like it's anything special.

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"Ah, fuck." Namjoon curses, looking at his phone. "God, fuck. Yoongi I'm so sorry, I forgot I was supposed to drive with Y/N to her doctor's appointment today." He apologizes, making Jungkook look up from his phone.

"Is it something bad?" Yoongi asks, genuinely a bit concerned as Namjoon just seems unsure.

"We don't know, just a routine thing."He replies. "But you never know. And she's a little anxious, too. I wouldn't want her taking the bus or anything alone in that state." He explains, and everyone seems to agree that that's not a good idea. You're well known to not possess the most basic orientation skills sometimes - and with your head all over the place like this, it could just end with you getting hurt.

"What if I drive her real quick?" Jungkook offers casually, looking up from his phone from where he sits on the small sofa in Yoongi's studio. "You both can continue working, and I didn't have anything to do anyways." He shrugs.

"You know what, great idea." Yoongi chimes up.

"I'll.. text her. See if she's okay with that." Namjoon offers with a little hesitance, making Jungkook wonder how serious this appointment really is. Did you have any health troubles you'd been hiding? He's always been told to never judge a book by its cover. Maybe you were just putting on a tough mask to cover up what you thought was weakness?

Jungkook doesn't believe in that. You've always been this way ever since he'd met you.

"She said she's fine with it." Namjoon sighs after a moment, making Jungkook lock his phone and get up. "Here, let me at least bring you down." Namjoon offers, walking out the studio and towards the underground garage where Jungkook has his car parked. "Listen- can you do me a favor?" He wonders, and Jungkook nods.

"Sure." He says, opening the driver's door to throw his wallet into the back together with his jacket. "What is it?"

"Listen, it's a.. gynecologists' appointment." Namjoon says, quietly so, while Jungkook just.. stares, unable to quite grasp on why his friend would say it in a way that makes it seem as if the word is something you can't ever say out loud. So you're going to a specialist. So what? "It's her first time there. She's honestly terrified, so, if you could maybe go in with her and sit in the waiting room? Just, to keep her mind off of things." Namjoon carefully says.

Again, Jungkook just shrugs, before nodding. "Sure, no issue." He says, getting into the car. "I'll text you when she's back home then. You go up and help Yoongi." He says, before putting his phone into the holder, maps app opened to find where you're waiting.

He's a bit confused inside the car. With the way you're always talking, he'd been sure you would've been a regular at those places. Not because he thought you were a whore, God no, but he just believed until now that you'd be someone who's open and casual with it.

So why are you terrified of a simple doctor's visit?

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"You uhm.. really don't have to." You mumble quietly next to him, anxiously playing with your hands in your lap. You've been quiet the entire time, not really talking at all, and especially not looking at him. He's a little worried about that, wondering if you're maybe in pain, or really unwell in general to the point of changing your personality like this. "I know this must be weird for you." You say quietly.

"Not really, no. I went to one of these with my mom once, so its fine." He shrugs next to you, trying to maybe soothe your nerves by showing you that he's not at all weirded out or uncomfortable. To be honest, he's a bit surprised- because right now, the girl sitting next to him, isn't at all the girl he'd thought he had figured out.

However, he also assumes you might just be heavily uncomfortable with your health, which could add to you just behaving like you do right now. "You feeling okay? Should I ask them how long it's gonna be?" He asks, and you just shake your head.

"No, I can wait." You just say, trying hard to appear unbothered now. "Guess I'm just not really looking forward to a fifty-plus year-old digging around where the light doesn't reach, you know?" You attempt to joke as always, but Jungkook can spot the fakeness of it.

"Joon said it's your first time." He says, locking his phone now before putting it away.

"Son of a bitch." You curse under your breath, leaning back in your seat with your arms crossed and legs thrown forwards, heels hitting the floor. You look almost defensive now, as if he'd just insulted you. "Yeah, I didn't need to go until now." You shrug. "But my regular physician keeps bugging me to check some stuff out, and Joon has been bothering me about it too." You say. "Not like he's got anything to do with my vagina for that matter."

"Well, he worries." Jungkook shrugs next to you. "And if you've got health issues, you should always get them checked out for that matter. Could be nothing, could be something. I can understand him." He explains to you. "He cares a lot about you."

"hmhm." You affirm quietly, a bit distant now, staring at the tips of your shoes. "Joon has always been a really good friend." You say, and jungkook nods. Namjoon is the main connection between Jungkook and you- the older guy being somewhat of a brother to him, in a way. He really admired his friend a lot, for his achievements as well as his determination to always better himself. He can't deny that he never really quite understood your friendship with him- with you being so extremely different from him- but he never questioned either. "He's honest." You mumble out, and Jungkook has to agree.

"He is." Jungkook nods, though he feels like there's something more to it. He doesn't get to ask however, because your name is suddenly called- and you jump up, taking a deep breath. "Hey-" Jungkook asks, and you look down to where he sits, as he smiles encouragingly. "-You'll be fine." He promises, and you nod, before disappearing with the nurse into the examination room.

It doesn't take too long for you to emerge back out, a prescription written in front as he gets your coat and walks towards you to the counter. "If it gets any worse, just give us a call, alright?" The nurse asks, and you just quietly nod before you walk out with Jungkook trailing right behind you.

"Everything alright?" He asks, and you nod, though next to him in the car, you run your hands over your face.

"I don't ever wanna go there again." You groan, hands still hiding your face as Jungkook looks at you a bit concerned now.

"Did something happen?" He asks seriously, canceling his action of starting the car.

You take down your hands. "No. It was just.. weird." You say. "The questions were nasty. I don't know." You say quietly, and Jungkook can do nothing but start the car to drive you home. He wishes he could- but at the end of the day, this is something he can't and won't ever really understand fully. He hopes it's just the new experience freaking you out.

Parking in front of your apartment building, you really look a bit terrified now. No longer because of the appointment though- but because of the honestly world-ending rain hitting his car like it's trying to smash it flat into the concrete below. "Its really going hard outside now." Jungkook laughs, but you don't seem to be in a joking manner at all. "If you run you won't get wet."

"I don't want you to drive in this weather." You say meekly, barely able to be heard over the loud rain.

"I'll just wait until it's better." He waves off, looking at you drowned in the orange interior light of his car. You seem to think, before you turn to look at him, eyes reflecting the led lights all around like mirrors. You're really pretty, without all that makeup.

"You can come up? Just, it's cold, and if you leave the car running that's bad for the environment and you're also wasting gas-" you ramble, and he laughs, shutting down the car at that, before grabbing his keys.

"Alright." He shrugs. "If you're cool with that." He asks, and you nod after a moment. He chuckles a bit, before grabbing onto the door handle, still looking at you. "On three?" He asks, and your face lights up in playfulness.

"One?" You start, making him grin.

"Two.." he continues, making you smile as well, before you both pull on the handle.

"Three!"

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Your apartment is everything he did not expect.

"Sorry, it's a bit messy.." you say, taking off your shoes before you slip into the pink slippers close by. The coat hooks on the side of the entrance are cat shaped. The mat where the shoes are put is pink. And from what he can see, everything you have is bright, pastel colored, cute.

Almost innocently so.

You're right and wrong with it being messy, he notices as he walks into the apartment. It's small, but cozy- blankets and round plushies littering the couch close by, kitchen sink containing some dishes you didn't wash or didn't put away yet. It is a bit untidy, but not messy, in his eyes.

It just.. looks like his own apartment. Simply alive.

"Do you.. want tea?" You ask, quietly, and he nods as he walks closer to you in the open kitchen. "I.. have a lot of different flavors so.. just choose one you like." You explain, opening a cabinet that's basically all about tea. Different mugs, mostly animal designs, flower shaped coasters, sugar and many different brands and flavors of tea, boxes a bit unaligned. He pulls out a little baggy of the box that's the most empty, making you smile a bit shyly. "I like that one the most." You admit.

"I assumed. Might as well try it then." He shrugs casually, letting you boil the water while he looks around from his spot. "Your apartment is really nice." He comments.

"Thank you." You answer quietly, pouring the water into the two mugs. "Namjoon sometimes sleeps over because, according to him, my pull-out couch is more comfy than his own bed." You joke, and Jungkook laughs.

"That sounds like him." He nods, accepting the mug before you both walk towards said couch. "Granted, he sleeps on a mattress on the floor though." He tells you.

You laugh. "He's way too much of a cheapskate to buy a bedframe." You shake your head. "He could just buy it and pay it off monthly." You say.

"He could. But I guess we'll never know why he refuses to buy one." Jungkook answers, watching as you toe off your slippers to get more comfortable on the couch next to him- before you put the mug back on the small table, jumping up towards the windows, opening them. "Its still raining heavy." He says, and you nod, turning off the lights, streetlights of the city illuminating the room enough to still see, as you walk back on the couch, pulling a blanket over your shoulders. "What're you doing?" He chuckles when you put one over his shoulders as well.

"I like listening to the rain. And it smells nice." You say, wind blowing into the apartment. "And airing out is important too." You tell him, leaning your head against the backrest of the couch. He nods.

This is nice.

He'd never really thought of those aspects of rain, has always just seen it as bad. It's already slowly stopping to rain so hard, now just a soft mist, but you're right. It smells nice, not like the usual faint city smog, but clean, and fresh. The air might be cold, icy on the tip of his nose, but its also refreshing, calming.

"This is nice." He comments before he turns, noticing a bit of weight on his back. You're asleep, resting against his back, and he uses this moment to look at you a bit.

Maybe Namjoon had been right, he thinks as he adjusts you to lay your head on his thigh, tucking your blanket in around you.

Maybe you're not who he thought you were.

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"What do you mean you were inside her apartment?" Namjoon asks, visibly surprised as he puts down his chopsticks for a moment. "She let you inside?"

"It was raining hard, didn't want to let me drive home, so I had some tea at hers and left later. She fell asleep anyways, she was pretty beat, so I left a note and drove home after closing her windows." Jungkook casually explains, continuing his lunch across his friend.

"You do know she doesn't even let her own mother visit, right?" Namjoon asks, and Jungkook shakes his head.

"No, how would I know?" He says. "From how she acts and speaks, I thought she'd have regular visitors." He says, scooping up some rice as his friend across shakes his head.

"No. She hates visitors. She doesn't even open for the mailman." Namjoon says. "Her apartment is her safety zone. I'm surprised she let you in." He shrugs.

"Maybe you just don't know her that well." Jungkook teases his friend.

"You simply don't know her at all, Jungkook." He says. "Listen.. I, don't know how to say this.. " he starts, and Jungkook raises his brow in confusion.

"I'm not gonna fuck her, if that's what you're worried about." He says, and Namjoon runs a hand over his face.

"Thats.. that wasn't something I was worried about until you mentioned it actually." He mumbles. "So yeah. Don't do that please. And also, don't.. just, don't get too close to her. In general."

"Why?" Jungkook wonders honestly now. "Joon, she's not gonna break my heart or something. I'm an adult man, not a lovesick boy going through puberty. She's not even my type." He laughs.

"Jungkook, I'm serious." The older guy says, picking his chopsticks back up. "Just.. leave it as it is right now."

"What're you worried about?" Jungkook wants to know, finishing his meal as he wipes his hands clean. "You seem so serious about this."

"Because I am." He underlines again. "I told you before, she's not who she pretends she is." He reminds the younger, who leans back, arms crossed.

"What, is she a criminal?" He wonders. "Sells drugs? Owns guns? Criminal record?"

"Theres things I won't tell you cause that's not my right." Namjoon explains. "You're a good guy, I know that, she knows that. But if you get too close, she'll just get attached again." He sighs.

"And?" Jungkook clicks his tongue. "Nothing wrong with that. We're attached too. That's what friendships are. Attachments."

"I meant it as in, more than that." Namjoon mumbles in a somber tone.

"Oh." Jungkook realizes. "I.. don't think I'm her type anyways." He laughs it off, but Namjoon doesn't seem convinced.

"Just.. keep your distance." He warns. "Its for the best."

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Namjoon doesn't tell him anything about you since that day.

You don't seem to hang out with everybody as much, and he himself hasn't seen you in what's been weeks now. Everytime he checks on you via your best friend, all he gets is a short answer that's way too vague to be the actual truth. Jungkook isn't sure why he's so interested in the first place. Maybe it's that small tiny glimpse of you that you've shown him, let him taste, before disappearing from his radar.

It bothers him, mainly because he feels like Namjoon has made him out to be the bad guy that's going to break your heart it seems. He's never given a clear reason why. He's never done anything wrong.

But its not like you've vanished into thin air, and because of pure luck, he spots you in a store he's visiting quite often, crouched down at the plushy-section. He almost didn't recognize you, pastel pink bucket hat and facemask hiding you pretty well- but for some reason, he still somehow knows it's you.

You seem to struggle between buying one or the other, holding both as you glance from one of the plush toys to the other.

"Tough decision, hm?" He asks, careful not to startle you but he still does, the seemingly sudden attack of his voice sending you straight onto your butt from your squatting position. "Sorry, I didn't mean to spook you like that." He chuckles, helping you up and standing.

"No worries. I didn't pay attention." You say, while you hold onto the still packaged stuffed animals. "And uh.. yeah. I was thinking of taking, you know, maybe one." You mumble more or less. "Both are too expensive."

"Yeah, they price these pretty high in my opinion." He affirms, poking one of the plastic bags you're holding. "What's so special about these?" He wonders, and your eyes suddenly grow bigger, hands squishing the thing eagerly.

"They're squishy, and soft!" You explain to him eagerly. "Try it! They're like, I don't know, stress balls or something!" You say, and he does as you say, pulling and pressing down on the round purple creature.

"Hm yeah okay, I can see where you're coming from." He nods, charmed by your cute enthusiasm over the toy. "So, which one you taking?"

"I.. like the color of this one, and its a shark, but the other one is a chicken and cute too.. like, look at those little wings.." you complain, pulling on said wings a bit before you look down. "I don't know."

"Why not buy both and just.. skip out on buying any next month?" He wonders. "Treat yourself. For being brave at the doc's." He chuckles, and you start to fidget on the spot a little.

"They're too expensive." You reason. "If I buy both, I won't have enough money to buy proper groceries next week, and Joon has been bugging me about not eating frozen foods all the time.." you complain.

"Well, he's right, that's not exactly healthy." Jungkook agrees, before taking the chicken from you and turning it to see the price tag. "Its alright. Let me buy it then." He shrugs.

"You- no, you really don't have to." You say.

"I know." He smiles. "But I want to."

You don't say anything. You're not sure Jungkook is aware of what he's doing, supporting your bad habit of buying 'kid's stuff' as Namjoon scolds you constantly. Walking towards checkout, you can't help but wonder. "Did you and Joon fight?" You ask, and Jungkook shrugs.

"Not sure, honestly." He admits. "He's.. I guess he doesn't trust me with you."

"What does you mean?" You wonder in a serious manner, careful to make sure the line keeps moving as you walk next to him towards the cash registers.

"Thats what I'm wondering." He says. "Namjoon seems pretty protective over you. I don't know, usually I'd say he's got the hots for you, but he's with Jin, so that can't be the reason." He tells you, before walking closer to the busy cashier.

"As if anyone's got the hots for me but fourty-plus year old men." You scoff.

"Hey now, don't do that." He clicks his tongue. "I bet most guys are just- intimidated by you. You know." He shrugs, waiting in line next to you with the round chicken plush tucked under his arm. "I know I was."

"Was?" You wonder, and he laughs down at you, his smile almost blinding.

"Yeah, definitely past tense." He jokes. "Now I just think you're cute."

You want to question that further. Suddenly, it's your turn, but Jungkook walks right behind you, pulls out his credit card way before you can grab your wallet, pays for both the stuffed animals and walks you out the store.

"How'd you get here?" He wonders, as you both walk outside.

"Bus." You answer, and he nods.

"You want me to drive you home?" He asks. "I don't mind, it's on the way for me."

"Jungkook.." you suddenly say, voice trembling a little as you stand in front of him at the side of the parking lot. "I.. appreciate your kindness but, uhm.. please don't." You say, and he's a bit taken aback by it.

"Did I do something wrong?" He wonders. "If I came off too strong, I apologize. Really didn't mean to."

"Its just that.. I'm kind of tired getting friendzoned." You laugh bitterly. "Its kind of old at this point. Seeing everyone be nice to you and then move on once they've found their special someone."

"Thats.." he starts, brows all scrunched up as he stands in front of you. "You're not some part-time activity." He explains honestly to you. "I'm not being nice to you to fight my boredom or anything like that. And you're definitely not friendzoned." He chuckles a little.

"I'm always friendzoned." You scoff. "I'm just everyone's little sister, or the lewd one that's always up for a random call when the date doesn't show up." You argue.

"Well, here's the thing." Jungkook tells you, gently uncrossing your arms before placing the two round plushies in each, respectively. "I really don't care what's made you build up that tough mean-girl persona you've created. But I'd like to get to know the girl that's looking at me right now, just like this." He grins, tapping the underside of your chin teasingly. "You're teasing me with those glimpses of you every now and then. I want to know more, if you'd let me."

"That 'me' is boring." You say. "She's childish."

"I've thrown a tamper tantrum before." He shrugs.

"She's stupid." You tell him, but he shakes his head.

"I doubt that. We all got brain-farts every now and then." He crosses his arms, amused smirk on his face at your attempts to drive him away.

"She's cries over Disney movies." You try, and he laughs.

"Hey come on, everyone cries over the fox and the hound!" He simply defends, and you sigh, almost annoyed.

"Jungkook you say all that right now as if it won't end with me hopelessly falling in love with you, while you're gonna leave me behind because 'you're sorry but you've met someone and you're a great friend but nothing more'!" You complain.

"You won't even try and let me love you." He softly says, and you're a little shocked at how easy he says the for you dreaded 'L'-word. It's a big word. A heavy one. "I can't stand here and promise you that I'll fall in love with you, because first and foremost, I don't know you. And you don't know me either." He explains. "But that's something we can change. You just have to let me in."

"And you don't have to let me in?" You try and jab at him, making him laugh.

"I don't have to let you in." He simply says. "You've been seeing who I am the whole time. I'm not hiding anything." He shrugs.

"..." you pull the two stuffed animals a bit closer to yourself, plastic crinkling in your arms before you speak. "What if you don't like who I am?" You wonder quietly.

"Then at least we tried." He offers. "Life is scary. Meeting new people is scary. Letting people go is scary." He softly explains. "But if you just hide away from those things, you'll also miss out on opportunities to experience something great. Meet someone special. Or create a memory you'll never forget."

"So you're saying you already know you won't like me?" You say, now just being stubborn to see what he does.

"Stop putting words into my mouth you brat." Be laughs. "I don't like the 'you' that you force yourself to be. I know that for sure." Jungkook tells you, grabbing his car keys from his pant pocket. "But I feel like I'm gonna like this you that's right in front of me right now a lot."

He speaks bold, appears honest. You're still not sure if you trust him. And namjoon had told you to really keep him at distance, stay on high alert of anything.

But somehow, he's caught you, sticky like honey already staining your skin.

And you've always had a sweet tooth.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

It kind of feels like sneaking around.

Even though right now, you're doing nothing naughty at all, not even remotely. Jungkook is simply helping you cook, watches the pizza in the oven before he puts the mitts to the side. "You got a timer set?" He wonders, and you nod.

"I've got it to the full time for now, let's hope we don't forget the check every now and then." You say, and he nods, walking into the living room with you. The smell of food is already slowly invading your space, and you open a window to make sure it airs out before you'll go to bed later.

He's staying over. You're surprisingly calm about it.

On the couch, he's looking at you from the side. "What?" You wonder, and he shrugs.

"I'm just wondering." He says. "Why do you act so differently around others?"

"Because everyone walks over you when you're soft." You explain, pulling your legs closer to yourself next to him. "No one takes you seriously. You're just the quiet girl and nothing interesting. No one cares." You mumble.

Jungkook wants to tell you that's not true, but he knows that he'd be wrong. It's sad that soft hearts get put in a hard shell because of what most people think should be an admirable personality. Someone strong doesn't have to be someone who's always bold and loud.

When his fingers find your knee, you stiffen. It makes him question out loud what he's been having on the tip of his tongue for a while now, ever since arriving at your place. "Am I making you uncomfortable?" He wonders, and you shake your head- before shrugging, unsure. "You're a bit confusing. In a way, cause you seem like you want me close, but when I am, you start to look all cornered, just like now." He wonders.

"Yeah well.. when a guy touches me, it's always been just for that." You say. "You know. Sex."

His face becomes serious. You notice quickly how that sounded.

"Nothing bad ever happened! Not really." You admit. "But it's.. I guess I should've told you right from the start. So you won't get your hopes up." You sigh. "I don't.. want to have sex."

"Okay." He says. "Neither do I right now. I just want to touch you. Nothing else."

"Yeah no, I mean it as in- not right now, probably not anytime soon, maybe never?" You ask more or less. "I've.. never had sex before. And at this point it feels like I've just passed all the opportunities to have it with anybody."

"Do you dislike the thought of it?" He wonders. "What's making you uncomfortable about it?"

"I.. guess I'm scared it'll be awkward?" You say, wiggling your feet a bit. "What if I don't like something, for example? Or if I make a weird sound, or, I don't know, don't cum or you don't cum and then it's all wasted time and just awkward.." you try and explain.

"You're intimidated by it." He sums it up for you, and you nod. "Thats fine. First's are scary, no matter what kind."

"I'm an adult." You conquer. He laughs.

"I'm one too, and I'm still freaked out by shit!" He laughs. "But, to get back to the topic, I'm okay with that."

"Okay with not having sex?" You wonder, and he nods.

"I mean, I get it's important for most people, and I like the intimacy of it, yeah. But it's not a necessity." He shrugs. "I can jerk myself off just fine."

You deflate a little, both because you feel more calm now, but also because you don't know how to tell him you might be interested in the entire topic. But it seems like he can read minds.

"We can also, you know, ease into it." He offers. "Doesn't have to be all hard-core bondage first time." Jungkook laughs. "You okay with this whole discussion?" He gently asks, and you nod.

You're weirdly alright with it.

"So let's like- what do you like?" He wonders. "As in, when you masturbate, what's something you enjoy?"

You cringe a bit. He laughs. You're cute.

"I.. uh.." you stammer, voice a lot more quiet now. "I've got like, a vibrator? That's nice." You shrug. "Other than that, uhm, just my hand. You know. Basic stuff."

Jungkook nods. "Ever put something in?"

"It.. uh. Dunno. Never really came from it alone." You say. "Which is also why I think sex with me is gonna be weird because I've never really gotten myself off on just that." You say.

"Doesn't mean anything." He shakes his head. "The mood, foreplay, all of that makes a huge difference. That and the fact that someone else is doing it. I remember my first handjob I got. It was weird as fuck, even though technically I should've been used to it." He laughs. "I think what personally scared me most was just being naked I guess." He offers some past fears of his own.

You nod at that. "Same."

"You're pretty tough." He smiles. "I'm not just saying that. I think you're pretty, with clothes and without as well." He flirts.

"I'm still not having sex with you." You defend yourself, and he shrugs, smiling still.

"I know." He tells you. "I'm still fine with that."

It's quiet for a moment, until you speak up again. You're not sure why you're bringing it up again when you could've just let it go, because clearly you've always been against the idea of having sex with someone. But with Jungkook, for some reason, it's so easy to talk about all of this.

"I.. you said you'd ease into it " you mumble quietly. He nods. "How?"

"I could just jerk you off." He shrugs. "Simple hand job. Clothes can stay on."

"And then?" You wonder.

"Then what?" He chuckles. "The you'll know if you like someone else doing something like that for you." He offers.

"What if I'll fall in love with you then?" You quietly ask, and he impishly smiles.

"Then I've done one he'll of a good job." He jokes, before looking at you more seriously. "In all seriousness though. I wouldn't mind you falling in love with me."

"I can tell." You say, looking away. "You're easy to love."

"Thank you." He offers. "You're very easy to fall in love with too."

"That makes no sense." You roll your eyes. "Love and lust aren't the same. You just want to screw me."

"Do I?" He raises his brows. "Can't lie and say you're not physically attractive to me. But I stand by what I said. If you don't want sex, I won't ask for it."

"You'll just end up leaving me for someone who wants it." You bitterly laugh. He doesn't look happy.

"No." He says. "Okay, do you want be with me? Emotionally, I mean?" He asks you, and you look at him wide eyes. "Yes, I'm asking you out here."

"I-" you stammer, caught off guard. "Yeah?"

"Is that a question or an answer?" He teases, making you whine.

"Maybe? Yes?" You try again, but he just shakes his head.

"Alright." He simply answers. "I'll go look, see if the pizza is burned yet. You calm down, I think I've riled you up enough." He laughs, hand on your shoulder for just a second before he leaves you to yourself, giving you some breathing room.

It gives you time to think.

You like him. He's a nice guy, good looking too, and he seems honest about his intentions. You don't love him yet, but its clear that he's easy to fall in love with. But isn't love a requirement to start a relationship? Can you just get together and then fall in love?

You're not sure. But you also want to find out.

So when he emerges from your kitchen, you call out to him. "I want to." You say, and he looks at you wide eyed for just a moment, before he seems to realize what you're talking about. "I.. wanna be with you." You say.

And he smiles, grins brightly, like a kid just being offered a trip to Disney world.

"Okay."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

"Everything alright?" He chuckles, voice breaking the silence in the darkened living room. "I can hear you creeping around."

It's true, you've been trying to keep quiet because you really don't know how to ask this. It's been bugging you for hours now, there's no way it seems you'll be able to fall asleep without at least attempting to solve this issue. But how do you ask for it?

He'd asked you out. You're together now, right?

"I- uh.." you wonder quietly, navigating slowly towards the pull-out couch where he's laying on. "Just wanted to see if everything's alright." You chicken out last moment, and he laughs softly.

"I'm alive and well." He answers you, before he throws back one side of the blankets, patting the spot next to him. "You wanna sleep here?" He wonders, and you sigh.

"How come you know that?" You almost whine, walking closer before you crawl underneath the warmed up blankets he'd been resting under. "Thanks." You say, but he shakes his head.

"No problem. You can come closer, too." He tells you more quietly now that you're already laying next to him.

It takes a moment for you. You're not sure how close you want to get, how close he will let you- so you slowly scoot forwards, inching closer like a scared animal before you finally settle with your head on the inside of his shoulder, arm over his middle. "Is that okay?" You wonder. He nods.

"Definitely." He answers. "Do you cuddle a lot?" He wonders, and you shake your head.

"I've not.. cuddled with anybody since I was a child." You admit. "So I.. jungkook, I'm gonna need a lot of help for this." You confess quietly. "I don't know how this works. How I'm supposed to act, what I'm supposed to do. I don't know what's right and what's not."

"Thats fine." He reassures you.

It's a little silent after that. You don't know what to say, how to ask. Isn't it weird now? Won't you move too fast? "What's going on in there." He teases, finger flicking your head rather gently. You move around a little uncomfortably. He notices right away. "Not good? You can go back to your bed if it's not comfortable." He offers.

"I don't know.." you say, unsure how to put it in words. "..I'm still thinking about what you said. Earlier." You mumble.

"What exactly?" He wonders quietly.

"The uhm.. you know. Sex part." You stammer out.

"I really don't need it." He chuckles. "Might be hard to grasp but if you don't want it I won't bother you with it."

"I want to." You say. It's dead quiet for a moment before you continue. "Like.. how you said. You know, start small, and all that." Tou explain.

"Okay." He answers after a moment. "Right now?" He asks. You nod.

"I just.. don't know what to do. And I didn't shave- oh God okay no maybe some other day then-" you ramble, he laughs.

"Who cares if you shave?" He jokes easily. "Its fine by me. I don't mind it." He tells you.

"You're weird." You cringe a bit. "Guys don't like that-"

"Maybe you've just met idiots then." He shrugs. "I'm honest here. I don't care if you shave or not. You could dye that hair downstairs pink, who am I to tell you what your body has to look like?" He scoffs playfully, making you laugh a little.

This is why you like him. He's easy. Simple. Comfortable.

"Do you want me to use something? Or just my hand?" He wonders quietly, and you just shrug.

"I wanna.. you know. Know if I like what you do." You offer, and he hums an affirmative reply at that, hand under the covers feeling for your thigh.

"You can stop me at any time." He almost whispers. "It won't be awkward, I promise." He assures, and you nod, letting his palm explore under the covers. You're not sure if he's careful or just plain teasing- but most of all, it's strangely exciting.

He moves you a bit, pulls you closer, eyes searching for ant signs of discomfort. "Jungkook..?" You ask quietly, and he chuckles a bit before nodding. "..can you uhm.. maybe kiss me?" You wonder, and there's no reaction for a moment, until he moves again, adjusts himself so he can properly angle himself, lips meeting yours carefully so.

The first one feels weird. You're unsure. You lift your head in a moment if bravery to try again, and it gets more comfortable.

It's nice.

He seems amused, but not at you - more at the fact that you're a lot more independent than you might've thought you'd be in a situation like this.

You're leading him. You're probably not aware, but your body language and responses all speak clearly to him about what you enjoy and what you don't. At first, he stops any advances, but you whine for him to continue. "Just.. cold hands."

"Sorry." He chuckles. "My fingers are pretty cold sometimes." He jokes. You nod, breathing a bit heavier now as soon as his hands warm up, slowly traveling underneath your underwear, middle finger easily finding your most sensitive spot. "Feeling good?" He wonders, and you nod, squirming around a bit.

"More." You ask, moving around a little, seemingly unsure where to put your limbs. He's doing it very differently from how you'd do it- but it's nice. He's making you feel good, not just in lust, but also in general.

There really isn't anything weird about it.

Or maybe your brain is just a bit foggy.

You want to stop him suddenly, feeling too sensitive, and he does halter his movements to check in with you. "What's wrong?" He asks.

"Weird. Sensitive- I.. don't know." You say. "I feel like I'm gonna pee or something." You say.

"Have you ever had an orgasm before?" He wonders, and you suddenly think. Have you? You're not sure.

"I.. don't know." You say.

"Hm." He cocks his head to the side a little, amused look on his face. "Lets see then." He almost challenges, resuming his activities, making you squirm yet again as you feel like something might be happening. Your back arches, and suddenly, you're not sure why you can't help but gasp out, his movements perfectly stable as pleasure rolls over you in waves. "There we go." He laughs, watching as you slowly come back down.

"Thank you.." you say breathlessly, before cringing at the sight of his glistening hand. "Uhm.. do you want me to do something too.?"

"It's okay." He says. "I've enjoyed watching you. That's enough." Jungkook chuckles, before pulling back the covers. "No, clean up. I gotta wash my hand and change too." He laughs, slapping your thigh with his clean hand.

"Change?" You wonder, standing up and cringing at the slippery feeling between your legs.

"I told you." He laughs, and only now do you notice a wet spot on his sweatpants as he'd turned on the lights. "I really enjoyed myself as well."

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

He's warm.

His arm lays heavy over your body, breathing soft and barely noticeable on the skin of your neck. Jungkook has slept close to you the entire night, didn't mind when you stole the blanket from him it seems. He's holding onto you, face clear of any worry, no muscle tensed as he sleeps.

He slowly seems to wake up, pulls you closer for a moment as he stretches his limbs and back, before his tired eyes open. "Hey." He greets with a raspy voice.

"Hey." You quietly greet back. He chuckles.

"How do you feel?" He wonders, pulling you closer with a sleepy grin.

"Good. Happy." You say.

"In love?" He wonders.

You nod.

And he smiles, brighter than the sun already high up in the sky outside your window.

♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

[xiii-e]

XIII▸ Well. I suppose I should introduce myself.

XIII▸ Hello, to all those I haven't met- which, will be most of you realistically. I'm Project XIII-E, otherwise refered to as Thirteen-E. Just Thirteen works too. After certain recent... events shall we say, a representative of the Union DoJ/HR insisted that I be given the oppertunity to meet with people outside of Harrison Purview while discussions regarding my status are underway, since things are dragging out somewhat.

XIII▸ So... this omninet account was created, with the assistance of Helios-8 [◂▸Hi folks o/ ] a fellow Project who understands all of this better than I do. He's volunteered to be my minder while I'm figuring all this out. For now, I suppose- more about me? What's important... I'm a trained field medic and basic mechanic, intended to opperate as a mobile assistance personnel wherever the fight is thickest. I can patch you, or your mech up from most things. I'm a Lancaster pilot; not the most common thing in the legion I know, but IPS-N knew what they were doing with the old lannies. I've made some alterations. M1 Leatherback is my pride and joy. I'm registered under the callsign Cicatrice, but my name is preferable. It's easier to say, and to spell.

XIII▸ Oh the uh- the Project thing. That might take a while to explain. I'll... I'll summarise it later. [ADDENDUM: summary_attached] That's all I can think of, from the top of my head. I'll do my best to aclimatise to any cultural differences outside of Harrison space during my time here. Please feel free to ask me questions, about myself or my stated expertise. It might be nice to make some more lasting connections, outside of deployment.

XIII▸ Signing off for now. I look forward to meeting you.

// loading echo.exe ... //... //... // now running echo.exe

◂▸ alrightyy, Turtie's got themself introduced, now it's my turn. howdy folks: My name is Helios-8, but I accept Lio if flashclone naming conventions turn your stomach. That's what me and Turtie are, by the way. Project-produced HA sanctioned flashclones. Being able to say that openly is why I run this nifty piece of software that keeps things below the line for any HA techs who might get on our case about legal distinctions, treaties, terms of service etc. Legally, we didn't say any of this shit.

◂▸I'm on a seperate datapad, I get my own that I can tinker with since I'm defined as an employed citizen in the tech sector, whereas Turtie's... well, it's complicated. Suffice to say they're not that. I'll explain in time. Important thing is, anything they want to say that might get them in trouble, they'll run through my interface and protective software. You want to see what either of us don't want HA seeing, we'll throw it into the void under the cloak of ECHO here. Something between insurance in case this all goes tits up, and a sort of controlled exposure therapy so Turtie can learn how to speak their mind.

◂▸I think it's important they get a break from the bullshit the Projects put us through, hence why I put myself forward to be their handler between deployments. My project line wasn't anything like Unlucky Thirteen, but- ehhh, that's a story better saved for the big expo. Sorry for being cryptic about shit. It'll come to light in its own time. This was meant to be an introduction but, I think you'll find out what you need to if you get talking to us.

Or don't; we'll be treating this thing like a diary anyways, and when ECHO's feeling up to big files I'll drop some of the more interesting pieces of history I have squirreled away too >:]c But, your eyes are enough. You saw us. You know we were here, and we were real, and that we were people too.

I'll try and keep things organised: ECHO should automatically tag anything she's cloaked with echo.exe if you're looking for our back and forth, and I'll file any large files, exposes etc that may or may not actually come from me under turtleshell.dox ; for incoming chatter, just check out You've Got Mail

◂▸anyway, cheers for reading. see you round the net -Helios-8

-----

// ooc: hiii this is @mossydice / @mossylocks depending on where you may know me- and this blog is a bit of an experiment!! I'm pretty shy overall so how much actual rping I manage to do is Very up in the air, but at the very least this'll serve as a fun in character blog for me to exposit about my scrungly Thirteen-E; I won't get to play them for probably another year or so yet, so this is a fun way to explore their character and some of the lore specific to them that I've come up with in the mean time!! ^-^ I look forward to doing more ic writing!! If you want to talk about anything, ask any clarifying questions etc please feel absolutely free to pop into my dms \o/

IMPORTANTLY: Thirteen-E's whole deal can get a bit gritty in places, so I'll be trying to include cw's where I think they might be revelent. However this whole blog is going to play heavy into dehumanisaiton and the comodification of human bodies if the flashclone premise didn't make that obvious, so if these are topics you'd rather not read about at length in your fiction, no hard feelings!! thanks for stopping by o7

[heywriters]

how to make a tumblr post (and get notes!)

Have never seen any post discuss these exact things, so i'm sharing my insights with y'all*

Use images. They don't have to be good or spectacular like this extremely coherent thing I just made. They just need to catch the eye break up dashboard monotony.

The gif search feature is an unreliable wild card at best and a NSFW eye gouge at worst, but it gives credit to the op of the gif

If you're an artist your whole post is your images, so skip to the links and tags section of this post because the rest won't help much.

-> Image Descriptions

When making a post that contains images, hover over an image and click the meatballs icon in the lower right corner of the image. Click "update description" to add a description. It isn't always necessary, but it is very courteous for a variety of accessibility reasons.

-> Text

Break up your text. Run-on sentences are standard here, lack of punctuation too, you can really do whatever you want, but avoid massive blocks of text. unless you've got a really incendiary opening line and the entire center of that granite chunk of text is actually comedy gold, hard-hitting tumblr journalism, or one of those zany confessional posts that can be followed up by the drive thru meme

break up

your text.

and go light on the ALL CAPS. save it for emphasis or when you're feeling very unhinged or saRcAStiC y'know how that goes, i don't need to explain it. this site has a very dry tone to its posts so caps are rare. also periods

Bullet points and numbered posts are good and fine. The "Chat" post option is used less often these days, but different groups found uses for it so it sticks around.

Titles Matter

they help break up text and put people at ease. they are best for informative, mature posts but can make you look like a square in more relaxed conversations. sometimes they are also great for emphasis in a comedic sh*tpost (censorship is entirely up to you, btw. you don't have to censor much on tumblr except titties and genitals).

Tumblr automatically shortens long posts now, but etiquette asks that you tag #long post if you want to avoid clogging up someone's dash. It don't matter too much though, this is the "color of the sky" site, so get used to posts being too long

That being said "READ MORE" is a fantastic feature. Use it when you want some level of privacy like "hey, only click below if you want to hear about my problems" or "click below to read my 18+ fanfic." Read more is also great in case you want to delete something forever. If a reblogged post has a read more, but op deleted the og post, that content is gone (readmore has to be on the og post at time of posting for this to work, btw; edits to og post do not span all reblogs)

the other bells and whistles like colored font or italics are helpful in improving text, but we don't really rely on them. every mode of looking at this site alters those aspects somehow so we often ignore them

-> Links

Hint: People don't want to click links. We don't know where they're taking us. Most of us are on our phone and don't want to open another tab or leave the app to go on the browser. We're cozy here on Tumblr and do not wish to be whisked away (unless it's a rickroll)

Don't leave the link thumbnail to do all the work, like so

add a little sneak peak info, maybe your favorite line from the article or a reason why it's important for people to know the info on the other side of that link. Sell it!

When you're adding a link into a list, i.e. no large thumbnail just a line of text leading you to another site, try not to copy/paste the link as is

"https://......"

No one wants to click on that it's gross and scary. It's screams "meh, i'll click later if i feel like it." If the build up to the link is too good to resist ("if you want to save the orphaned puppies here's the link") then that http mess is sufficient.

Otherwise, dress your links up a little by including the title or a description of what the link goes to:

Or, if it's an informal post where you're just popping info in to back up whatever insane thing you just said, just write something like "link here" or "(x)" and hyperlink it.

-> Tags

artists, writers, and other creators: leave a tag on your creative content that makes it easy for blog visitors to see it all at once. e.g. "My work" and we click on that while on your blog and see only your works

You can have up to thirty tags on any post. All will make your post show up in searches and followed tags (it used to be only the first five tags that got you traction). However,

Please. Do not tag everything you can possibly imagine being relevant to your post because

It's called tag spam and it's against TOS

Everyone here hates that

No one is going to check all those tags ever. Someone might search one five years from now and accidentally find your post hanging out in the ether and they'll still ignore it.

Your imagination is wicked tiny because I guarantee the perfect tag is going to be something indecipherable and seemingly niche.

Follow popular tags (or at least be aware of them)

If yours is an off-the-cuff post and you don't have time to find out what a niche group is into then wing it, sure, idc. this is also the shitposting site do whatever you want

Don't put your hate in the fan tags. This is the unapologetically-like-dumb-things site and your negativity is not wanted. You can still complain, just avoid tagging to get the attention of the fans of whatever you're complaining about. That enables pvp and even nonfans will know you deserve the backlash

-> Audio & Video

clickable by nature because we all love noise and moving images so there's no special way to share posts like this. just post them with good tags and maybe a one-liner, and they'll sell themselves

Tip: it's nice to add descriptions to these too but it isn't common

Protip: if the audio is the best part of the video (e.g. a baby burps REALLY loudly and it's hilarious) please caption or tag "Unmute!"

-> mkay bye

that's all i can think of right now. will update later if i remember something

---

*this is year eleven of my time on tumbles and i studied marketing in college for like six of those years and have been applying that bupkis to tumblr ever since. every post i see that gets no traction and every lovely artist that goes nowhere on here bothers me so deeply and i sincerely want y'all to succeed <3 <3

+ If you find this helpful and want to support my blog, I have a ko-fi!

+ If you're concerned about my mental health from being on Tumblr so long and want to contribute to my "get better" fund, I have a ko-fi!

[shelbgrey]

Next to me(Emmett Cullen)

Chapter 20: Testosterone and Truck repairs

Table of contents

Tags: @itsmytimetoodream @f-1-maniac @purplesiren @thekinkpopstandsforkrackheads

“that would never happen” Paul said as he stuffed his face with Doritos, it was Saturday and Paul decided to stay in a watch Bones while Emmett was out hunting. Paul still hated the idea, so we just decided to never discuss it.

“good morning” bella said coming into the living. My head shot up confused, she never really spoke in such a bright tone in the mornings “what's that supposed to mean?”

“nothing...good morning” she repeated as Owen came shuffling into the living room, he plopped on to Charlie's favorite arm chair looking like he just woke up.

“mornin' sunshine” Paul joked, Owen looked at the TV and flipped Paul off while he watched his favorite character Angela do her thing on the show.

I rolled my eyes and continued to watch the TV show. Bella quitely sat down on the arm of the couch with me and took a sip of her drink. She cleared her throat and looked at me and Paul, we ignored her as i tried to finish the episode we were watching. “you look nice today... You too paul”

“I always look nice” Paul smirked, I rolled my eyes and hit his chest.

“What do you want?” I sighed, looking down at the sleep clothes I had yet to change out of, it was one of Emmett's black t-shirts and underwear, his shirts looked like a dress on me so there was no reason to wear pants.

Bella looked shocked. “What? I can't compliment my cousin?” As Bella failed to be suck up I sighed, she was always overly nice when she wanted something.

“suck up” Owen mumbled, Bella shot him a glare as he looked at the TV and not her.

“What do you want?” I said.

“m-my truck won't start... Could you guys look at if for me?” she asked, I signed and nodded. Paul who didn't look up from the TV slightly nodded. “after this, I need to see Booth and Bones catch the killer”

“they always do” I said, smiling.

Bella immediately jumped out of her seat. “t-thanks!” she's stopped and took a double take. “I'll be outside washing it while I wait for you”

The three of us nodded not taking our eyes off the TV. We didn't really notice she left until Owen spoke up and we gave him out undivided attention. “ya know, you certainly have a type sis”

I raised an eyebrow. “what's that mean?”

“you've been in love with David Boreanaz since the show Angel, he was indeed a big buff vampire with dark hair and in Bones he the same way just bigger and goofyer and minus the vampire” Owen explained.

“Buffy the vampire slayer was better... And had good tips” Paul added, I gave him a side eye. “sorry” he mumbled.

“I don't really have a type” I said with a nervous chuckle. “big, goofy buff dude” Owen pushed. “Seeley Booth and Emmett cullen are the basically the same thing, your fictional and real boy friend are very similar”

“why are we even talking about this?” I asked getting up and shutting the TV off. “I'm gonna change and we'll go help little miss. Main character” I said stretching.

After I got and old t-shirt and jeans on, I went out side while Paul and Owen got Uncle Charlie's tools. Paul sighed and droped the metal box on the ground as Owen climed into the bed with one of his my Stephen King books.

“put SpongeBob down and give it a crank” Paul said to Bella as he opened the hood. Bella climed into the squeaky vehicle and tuned the key. The truck made a sickly noise as Paul rummaged around. He sighed and wiped the grease off his hands onto his shorts.

“you got a battery?” he asked. I shook my head no. “we used it on the Impala were working on, remember?”

“let's try and jump start it then” he said as Owen handed him the jumper cables that lived in the bed of the truck.

Paul hooked one side to Charlie's Cruiser, as he hooked it to the truck battery the truck rocked suddenly. I looked up and saw Emmett on the roof.

“can you act human, we have Neighbors” I chuckled, he jumped down as Edward rolled up in his fancy-pants Volvo.

“what's wrong with the truck?” Emmett asked.

“its not starting”

“none of your business” Paul said over me. Emmett's gold eyes looked towrds Paul with hate. I rolled my eyes.

“it might be the spark plug” Emmett said, examining the engine. “I can bring one over later tonight” he said shutting the hood.

“thanks” bella said quickly and turned back to Edward. “there's still a dent though” Emmett said, grabbing the red metel and popping it back into place.

“now, that's hot” I said nudging Paul, He scoffed. “I could do that”

Emmett chuckled while Paul gave him a death glare.

“gald Enzo Ferrari could be of service” Paul said rolling his eyes, Emmett ignored him and turned to me.

“you wanna come over tomorrow?” he smiled leaning against the truck. “Sure, I want Owen to come too. He doesn't like to be left alone anymore”

“Sure, Carlisle and Esme want to meet him” he smiled, our conversation was cut short when Billy and Jacob rolled up in his new truck.

“peace was made, what's the problem?” Emmett asked when he saw my face drop. I shrugged. “I don't know... I just feel like I've been walking on eggshells since the meeting”

“well if they really care about you they wouldn't make you feel that way” Emmett said loud enough for Paul to hear.

Paul and Jacob are the only two that had been acting normal since the meeting. Paul didn't care, I mean he hated the Cullens but he was one of my closest friends and he wasn't gonna ruin it. Jacob just didn't know anything about the supernatural world yet so he was completely clueless.

He actually liked Emmett, Jacob came over to the house the other day to help me and Emmett on my Impala, they got along great. Jacob couldn't figure out what the packs problem was, he even asked and I couldn't give him a real awnser.

“we should go” Edward said coming up to us. Emmett shrugged. “you can... I don't have to”

My best friend rolled his eyes and gave me hug before racing off in his Volvo. “What was that about?” Bella asked.

“I'm sure you'll crack that case too Sherlock” I mumbled as we watched Jacob hop out of the silver truck.

“Hey, Emmett” Jacob smiled as he pulled out Billy's wheelchair. Honestly, Billy got over the whole thing. I think he was just galde Emmett was respectful towards me and and wasn't a killing machine.

Jacob and Emmett did some kinda bro fist bump which was bizzar in itself, I worry what Jake will think when he knows the truth about it all. Would him and Emmett still be friends? Would he look past all the wolf and vampire drama?

“you here for the game?” he asked Emmett, he looked over at me and just prayed he'll say no. I hate sports.

“I'll be upstairs with y/n” he said as Charlie walked outside with a smile. He greeted his best friend and Jacob then turned to Emmett.

“your welcome to join us if you want Emmett”

Emmett nodded with a smile. “I appreciate the offer sir, but I promise y/n we'd watch a couple of movies together”

As we walked towrds the house Billy spoke up. “any luck on the Waylon case?”

“well, I don't think it was an animal that killed him” Charlie awnsered as he pushed Billy's wheelchair up the small stairs.

Jacob and Bella looked at me and Emmett while they spoke about the murder. Emmett gulped and took my hand while we followed the group into the house.

“so spread the word out at the rez, huh? Keep the kids out” Charlie asked. “will do, we don't want anyone eles getting hurt” Billy said looking directly at me and Emmett.

As the sports watcher filed into the living room, I pulled Emmett towrds the stairs. He jokingly stoped and looked at the TV. “ya sure you don't want to watch the game?”

“we can watch it if you really want to” I smiled. I quickly shook his head no. “na, let's go to your room”

As we walked up the stairs Uncle Charlie called out to us. “better keep that bedroom door open!”

“okay!” I said rolling my eyes knowing he couldn't see me.

When we got my room Emmett plopped on to my bed as I looked for a movie to watch. He rolled over onto his stomach and reached for the book that was on my nightstand. It was Christine by Stephen King.

“what do you want to watch?” I asked, Emmett shrugged flipping through the small book. “I don't care, as long as your cuddling me... I don't care”

I chuckled and looked over my shoulder at him. His eye brows were knitted together as he concentrated on the book. “you can read it if you want, it's not like the movie but it's good”

“yeah... I might give it a try” he said as tossed him a padd of red sticky notes, he pealed one off for a book mark. “now... Movie, what are we watching?”

“Pult Fiction or Bill and Ted's excellent adventure?” I asked, Emmett looked up, thinking for a moment. “Bill and Ted” he smiled.

I nodded a put the movie in before crawling into bed with him. He wrapped his arms around me while I rested my head on his chest. I smiled feeling immediate comfort. “your like a big teddy bear” I said wrapping my arm around his waist, scooting closer to him. He chuckled and kissed the top of my head.

The rest of the day we stayed in bed, Owen came in about two hours later and watched Lethal weapon 3 with us. When 6 'o'clock hit Emmett got a call from Alice to come home, He promised to help get supplies for tomorrow. He said his goodbyes and kissed my goodbye before going outside to his jeep.

A/n: man, sorry this took so long, hopefully I'll post more regularly with this story. I'm so happy you all enjoy this story and want to read more.

[azalawa-scroggs]

On why I think the "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death" note was meant literally

I've had this in my drafts for a while after seeing a poll that elicited a little discussion on the topic. I know this is the fandom's majority take on the subject so I'll probably be preaching to the choir, but there (rightly) is discussion about it nonetheless so I felt like giving my arguments.

I'll put it under a read-more just in case people missed the warning in the tags. Considering the topic, naturally, here's a warning for discussion of suicide. Please take care of yourself!

The thing is that Justice For All is very, very ambiguous on that. It does what Ace Attorney is really good at doing - brushing a serious topic then waffling on it until it really doesn't say anything about it, giving itself the benefit of doubt but never making a statement. Both Phoenix and Franziska's dialogue strongly hint that they have a certainty that Edgeworth is still alive, and they're proven right. The narrative doesn't try really hard to sell us the idea that Edgeworth died - Edgeworth is even on the game's box art. I've watched a few JFA walkthroughs hunting for people's reaction to all the Edgeworth talk and his apparent death, and nobody really seems to buy it - either going through great confusion or immediately going like "oh he can't be dead there's no way - he's so coming back."

However. However. It's just impossible to ignore all the subtext that points at the note being real.

The game textually sets up Adrian Andrews as a foil to Franziska. In the parallel Edgeworth draws, Celeste is supposed to represent Manfred - a mentor she admired and whose guidance she lost. But it was a deliberate choice from the writers to have Celeste die by suicide. In the same game that spent a whole game-wide subplot on slowly revealing Edgeworth's apparent death by the exact same means. Edgeworth is the one who gives Phoenix the information about Adrian and Celeste's backstory. And Franziska revealed to us she wasn't seeking revenge for her father, but for her "little brother" - in the parallel between her and Adrian Andrews' stories, it's easy to see Celeste paralleling Edgeworth, not Manfred.

And in fact Adrian is also a clear parallel to Edgeworth himself. He, too, lost the guidance of his mentor and was left questioning everything. In the infamous scene where he interrogates her in the first phase of the trial, he even puts his own words in her mouth.

If you're going to say you would "choose death", that is of no concern to me.

If you consider Rise from the Ashes, Edgeworth's dialogue leaves even less room for doubt regarding his mental state. Compilation:

Edgeworth: Hmph. Some people need very little excuse to think ill of others. It's a fact of life. Impossible to stop. Some of them even go so far as to present me with toys like this… They think it's funny. (Referring to the award he was just given)

Edgeworth: Why, I ask you? Why!? All along, I've done only what I believe is right. I have nothing to be ashamed of! But still... Phoenix: (Wow, I've never seen him this out of sorts...)

Edgeworth: Hmph. I've had to live the past two years with rumors flying around. What's another allegation to me? Ema: Cheer up, Mr. Edgeworth! I'm rooting for you! Phoenix: (That's Edgeworth for you... Always trying to hide his real feelings.)

Edgeworth: There's no excuse for what I've done. Two years ago, I used false evidence to obtain a guilty verdict. That's what it all breaks down to, and nothing I do can erase that fact.

Edgeworth: I'm tired, Mr. Wright. I feel as if… something inside me has died. [...] I know the path I've walked. You don't need to tell me. And the path I've walked... hasn't been a just one. I can't forgive myself for what I've done... and no one else should forgive me either. Phoenix: (Uh oh. I think he's serious!)

Edgeworth: ... It's too late for me. No matter what anyone may say, I realized today that I can't change my own mistakes! Not only that, but I don't even trust myself anymore. Chief Gant was right...

And of course:

Edgeworth: If you'll excuse me… there are still some loose ends that need wrapping up. Take care, Chief Prosecutor. Phoenix: Edgeworth! What will you do now? Edgeworth: ... Phoenix: Well, whatever you do, just remember. What happened in this trial can either make or break you as a prosecutor. In the end, it's up to you. Edgeworth: I know... It seems I owe you my thanks too, Wright. But what I face now... is my problem. Phoenix: Edgeworth... I'll be waiting for you in court. Edgeworth:... Farewell.

I've pulled all my quotes from the wiki, which I believe takes the DS version, but the retranslation of the port makes things even more blatant. Instead of "either make or break you as a prosecutor," the line was retranslated as "You can let what happened kill the prosecutor in you, or you can let it help you grow."

I don't know how much more literal you can get.

Of course, none of this dialogue strictly refers to anything but a professional crisis for Edgeworth. But it is a true crisis, one he takes very deeply and personally - it is his entire moral system that is crumbling down. And the phrasing of some of those lines is downright chilling. "I can't forgive myself, and nobody should do it either" "I feel like something inside me has died" "It's too late for me" or even those ominous "loose ends"... Whatever his final conclusion, he is not doing well. That's one thing RftA makes abundantly clear.

But then why are Phoenix and Franziska so angry, you'll ask me? Grief, of course. Why is Franziska adamant he still lives? Grief, of course - specifically denial. Why does Gumshoe know Edgeworth still lives? Several options. Edgeworth contacted him knowing he'd need someone to help him come back once he decided to come back, or Gumshoe is the one that prevented his note from turning literal, or Edgeworth contacted him at some other point for another reason - it could have happened at any point in his little mental health gap year.

It just makes much more sense to me than the alternative. Why leave a note saying he "chooses death" so unambiguously only to rely on a play on words? He was shown writing a perfectly good resignation letter right before that - the note was meant to be one step further from resignation. And why leave his loved ones in the dark, mourning him, for one entire year if he just deliberately left for soul-searching purposes? The man is obtuse when it comes to feelings, and honestly I could see him pulling this, but... not in conjunction with everything else.

And his arc just makes it make so much sense as well. Depression is often a comorbidity of PTSD, which Edgeworth has, as close to canonically as possible without it being spelled out. He is in an extremely fragile place psychologically - two months earlier his trial dragged him across the coals emotionally, his traumatic past revisited and revealed in an extremely public way. His quest for "perfection" was shattered not just through the losses he suffered at Phoenix's hand but through the sudden, deep and complete betrayal of the man who taught it to him. He only had one moral high ground left - the fact that he never knowingly forged evidence - only for that to be ripped away from him too. Of course he could be nothing less than unstable.

So anyway I don't have any fancy conclusion but yeah I can't imagine "Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth Chooses Death" wasn't meant literally. Even though I'm pretty sure that wasn't the authorial intent, I think it must have been somewhere in the works anyway, otherwise there wouldn't be so many hints to it.

[autismasgore]

i'm leaving the fandom

so i already posted about this on twitter with a shorter explanation but after a long while of being in the undertale fandom, i've decided to distance myself from it. i'm not sure if i'll ever make a public return on any of these accounts, but for now i've decided that i feel this is what's best for me mentally.

i'm kind of surprised i haven't already, to be honest, but i guess for a good while i was able to focus on the passion and love i had for the game. nowadays, i've been finding it harder and harder to interact with the fandom as a whole - for a multitude of reasons really.

many of you are already aware i went through a stalking incident over asgore discourse, which lasted from late 2019 to 2023. it was the most traumatizing years of my life, and i don't even remember a time where i actually felt at peace with myself during those years. the only time i remember being happy was pouring all of my focus onto undertale even harder, just to try and cope with what was going on. it didn't help that at the time, my abusive family was blaming me for being stalked and telling me i was just doing this all for attention and that i loved the "drama" of it.

i really didn't want to do this, because it feels like such a huge betrayal of everything i've loved for so long (hi, i'm autistic and undertale was my special interest, in case you haven't noticed yet LOL) but at this point i associate too many traumatic memories with undertale, specifically the fandom.

since getting more into steven universe and browsing the fandom casually it made me realise just how toxic the undertale fandom is as a community right now. i mean, let's be real, it's always been this way, but i feel like it's gotten a whole lot more worse lately - more insane.

it honestly felt like such a huge breath of fresh air to go into a fandom tag that Didn't have any toxic sludge or people discoursing about liking certain characters (cough Asgore cough) and whether or not that makes you a bad person. it felt like total whiplash, seeing people discussing a show they liked and sharing fanart instead of seeing constant discourse about it.

i've also been seeing a lot of my friends go through absolute fucking bullshit lately, and it's honestly really stressful because it felt like my stalker incident was becoming a more popularized and public sentiment in the fandom. which... honestly is scary to me. people are becoming more openly hostile, more openly insane with their accusations. i've been trying to remain hopeful and optimistic about the fandom, but the more things that have happened, the less hopeful i feel.

i don't want to be in this sort of community. i don't want to be in a community where people feel glee in hurting others, tearing other people down and slinging around serious accusations because it makes them feel powerful.

i want to be in a community/fandom that makes me feel actual joy, and not a constant source of stress.

there's also another reason why i decided to distance myself online rn as well, and it's not really related, but it was enough that i feel incredibly uncomfortable going by the name "pixie" rn.

last year, a youtuber i knew decided to put me on blast and straight up called me an abuse apologist and that i should be avoided at all costs, all bc i quietly distanced myself from posting publicly about the situation and decided to avoid jumping to conclusions.

i don't entirely blame them, since there's definitely things i feel i could have done better, but a lot of what they said was already privately resolved between us, and they left a lot of that out in order to paint a false narrative about me. i mean they literally had saved hundreds of deleted posts from my deleted old social media accounts. i know this because they've done this before with other people. i also know that this comes from a place of hurt and anger, they're lashing out at a community they felt hurt by, but their way of coping with it isn't healthy.

because they had thousands of followers, i started getting a ton of harassment, from people saying i wasn't trustworthy and calling me an abuse apologist, and even private nasty dms i don't really want to get into.

i didn't say anything at the time bc i was worried i'd come across as attention seeking/manipulative but. i became straight up actively suicidal after this. i was convinced nothing was going to ever get better for me and that i was an active danger to everyone. my mum ended up dragging me all the way to the city literally just to buy me the macbook i wanted in order to try and cheer me up, and even then i felt so depressed that i felt like i didn't have anything to look forward to. honestly the only thing that really kept me going was my friends privately supporting me.

to put it short, it felt like a repeat of my stalker situation and i don't feel comfortable going by pixie anymore because i associate so much trauma with that name right now. i feel like so many people who don't have good faith intentions know me as that name, more than people i'm friends with.

i don't even know if i'll ever post on social media ever again, or at least not in the way i used to. if i do end up making a new social media with a new rebrand, you won't hear from me about it. i want to be more private now.

tl;dr if you're still reading this, thank you for sticking by me for so long. this ended up being a lot longer than i anticipated, but i think i'm done with the name "pixie", and i think i'm done with the undertale fandom for now.

i know i'll be able to move on into a better place once i move forward to this chapter.

thanks for the memories.

[en-geneisaxx]

'Please don't say that this is the end of us...'

Pairings: Husband!Hoon x fem!reader

Warnings: swearing (you're gonna be on a rollercoaster of emotions darling) and a suggestive at hoon's part (if u squint 🤭)

Feat. Jay, Heeseung and Jake of Enhypen, Yeji (Sunghoon's sister), Jin Ae (Y/n and Sunghoon's child)

Tagging my moots who wanted to read: @pockettwinzz @diorsyun @rinbowaman @heeslomll @heeslut4life @hoonieshoneymain @sungvrhs

A/n: THE REACTIONS ARE REALLY INTERESTING LMAOOO, I'M CURIOUS IF IT'LL CHANGE WHEN I FINISH THIS FIC (I have no idea when 💀) BUT HOPEFULLY YOU'LL ENJOY MY DEBUT

Not proofread ��

Likes, reblogs and/or following me will be much appreciated!!

Part 4:

'...'

The silence was so loud.

But I mean, it was expected. How would you have reacted given that information and the current situation you were in? Even I, too, wouldn't know, despite living it.

'Y/n,' Jay breaks the awkward atmosphere,

'take your damn child before it has a concussion from it falling from my arms, because I feel so fricking weak right now.'

Glady, you took Jin Ae, since she was like a comforter. And, gosh, she was SO 𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 CUTE.

Finally, you felt a little light-hearted, but that could only last for long...

'I...damn. I never knew my bro would be like that... He's not the type to do that...'

'Y/n...have you ever suspected that Jake dude? Because right now, he seems like he's the problem.'

'I agree, Jay. Hoon would never hurt you, but it may be he's worried that Jake guy would take you. You're everything to him, Y/n, and he's just as similar to you when it comes to love.'

Hearing the different views of the story did give you an insight of what might be going on in his head.

'Try being Hoon,' suggested Jay, 'because you need to know what's his version of this mess.

Thoughtfully, you scrape out every detail of Jake you could get from your memory, and tried to piece it together to get a clear answer.

Jake was a flirty boy, so his actions could rub off people in the wrong way, especially if it was Hoon.

When he hangs out with you, he would definitely initiate the physical contact, snaking an arm around your waist or putting an arm on your shoulder.

The way he would look at you...it...it was different, now that you're gaining a third person view. Those eyes...it was so dark when it came to you, unlike when they have a charming gleam to others. Could it be lust? The thought made you sick, you hated liking another man when you were happily in love.

Even the nicknames...he would call me things Sunghoon does, like 'Love' or 'Darling'.

Ah, so he wasn't trying to be my best friend,

He took 'bf' to a whole new level.

No wonder why Hoon got so agitated at the thought of him.

But...at the same time, these are just reasonable guesses. I would need to discuss with Sunghoon to actually know the answer.

'So, what's your verdict, 𝐌𝐫𝐬. 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤?'

'I think Jake tried to change it to Mrs. Sim.'

'I thought so too, ngl.'

'Me three!' Yeji chimes in.

'Well, at least now you should have Sunghoon's view.'

And I think we talked for too long that Jin Ae started crying, hungry for milk.

'Shoot, Jin Ae hasn't drank yet.'

'We'll leave you two to be, call us when you're done.' Says the modest Jay, who you really thought deserved to be the older Park.

'I'll be waiting nearby, ok bro?'

'Cheers Hee, for letting me hang about your place and all that.'

'My job as the eldest, is it not?' He chuckles.

'I know you love Y/n, but right now, you're not really taking your role as the husband, aren't you? Remember, you haven't heard her side of the story, so take it easy.'

'I'll try to, I really will.'

I head on over to the backyard of our house, decorated by my lovely Y/n. She took so much time renovating it into the piece of art it is today. That was what she was good at: creating masterpieces. She's probably best at it because she is one, and if I was to ever be hurtful to her, I would never have meant it; I never deserved such a woman ever, such luck I had to create my family with her as my wife.

I start appreciating everything more, taking a look around and observing the way she places the plant pots, and the strokes she did when painting the fence. There was something else she was better at stroking at, but we'll save that for another time.

When approaching the bench where we would always sit when it was a beautiful sunset, I noticed engravings on it. I thought someone may have vandilised it, until I took a closer look.

'Y/n Park ♥︎ Park Sunghoon'

'He's my forever!!'

'I'm so happy my child was made with him.'

'𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏, 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖.

-𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒀/𝒏.'

All this made him feel ashamed of himself. He deserves to, he was pretty much destroying his sunshine.

He wanted to talk things out, but you weren't there.

*Buzz*

'Who is it?' Enquires Yeji

'Ooolalaaa, it's Mr. Park Sunghoon.'

'Interesting...'

*Otp* 'What.'

'Where's Y/n?'

'Jin Ae was hungry, so she's breastfeeding her right now.'

(She's such a good mother... Oh, Y/n, if only I could prove my love to you better...)

'Oh...ok.' *Ends call*

...

*Jay and Yeji monster shrieks*

'OMG, OPPA, SHOULDN'T WE TELL H/N?'

'YEAH, WE SHOULD. HURRY, OPEN UP THE GROUP CHAT!!'