#and then if i dont show up no one notices im gone

[moonselune]

hi there 🙃

could you write the female companions' reactions to a normally passive (as in, pacifist, -- bard, healer, etc) tav, who genuinly dislikes violence, absolutely demolishing someone after they dared lay hands on their beloved?

not like in a, 'dont touch em!! Take dat!!' way after someone accidentally bumps shoulders with their partner, im talking about someone insulting tavs significant other, both physically and verbally, SO BAD, that tav cant help but go ballistic on em 😦

like, for example, someone berating Shadowheart, mocking her, mocking shar, kickin her to the ground n allat, and before she can even respond or fight back, the very same person who was berating her suddenly has a spear impaling them through the heart ?? As the stranger falls down, tav stands tall behind them, pulling the spear out and hurling it to the ground along with the now lifeless corpse 👽

if this is too dark feel free to ignore 💕

Ahh I love this and not too dark at all xox

Karlach:

The camp was quiet, the crackling of the fire and the occasional distant howl of wildlife the only sounds in the crisp evening air. You watched as Karlach, her fiery mane glowing in the flickering light, paced near the edge of the clearing. Her usual exuberant energy was gone, replaced with a taut line to her shoulders and a clenched jaw. It was rare to see her so subdued, and it made your heart ache.

The cause of her distress, Gortash’s lackey—a smarmy, cruel barite with a penchant for striking where it hurt most—still lingered in the shadows, his mocking laughter replaying in your ears.

“Naive and stupid,” he had jeered earlier. “To think you’d ever amount to more than a pawn, Karlach. A brute without a brain. That’s all you are, just a weapon Gortash no longer needs.”

Karlach had held her tongue—barely. You’d seen the way her fists had clenched, the way her chest had heaved as she fought to keep her Infernal Engine from roaring to life. Instead of lashing out, she had walked away, muttering about needing to cool off.

But you couldn’t let it go. Not this time.

You rose from your seat by the fire and slipped into the shadows, the hidden dagger in your boot feeling heavier than usual. Violence wasn’t your way; it never had been. But for Karlach? For the woman who had given you her heart, who carried so much pain behind her warm smiles and boundless energy? For her, you would make an exception.

You found the lackey leaning against a tree, a smug grin plastered on his face as though he thought himself untouchable. He didn’t even notice you approach.

“Lost, are we?” he sneered, his eyes finally meeting yours. “Or have you come to defend your pet?”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you closed the distance in a flash, the dagger in your hand before he could even register the movement. One swift, silent motion, and it was over. The man’s eyes widened in shock as he crumpled to the ground, his lifeblood staining the forest floor. You wiped the blade clean on his cloak, your heart pounding in your chest—not from fear, but from the fierce protectiveness that had driven you to act.

When you returned to camp, Karlach was sitting by the fire, her head resting on her knees. She looked up as you approached, her fiery eyes searching your face for any sign of what had transpired.

“Where’d he go?” she asked, her voice tinged with confusion. “The loudmouth. I didn’t hear him leave.”

You sat beside her, tucking the dagger away as nonchalantly as possible.

“Don’t worry about him,” you said softly, offering her a reassuring smile. “He’s gone now. Probably realized he wasn’t welcome.”

Karlach tilted her head, studying you for a moment. Then she smiled, a small, grateful thing that made your heart swell.

“Guess even idiots like him know when to back off, huh?” she said, leaning into your side.

You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close as her warmth seeped into you. If she suspected anything, she didn’t show it. After all, you were the pacifist, the one who hated violence. The idea that you could harm someone—let alone end them—would never cross her mind.

As you sat there, the fire crackling softly and Karlach’s tension melting away, you felt a strange sense of peace. You had done what needed to be done, and Karlach was none the wiser. She didn’t need to know. All that mattered was that she was safe, her spirit undimmed.

You pressed a kiss to the top of her head, your lips brushing against her wild hair.

“I’ll always look out for you,” you murmured, more to yourself than to her. And you meant it—no matter what it took.

Minthara:

The dimly lit underdark tavern was alive with the quiet murmurs of its occupants, the air thick with the heady mix of incense and intrigue. Minthara stood at your side, her presence regal and unyielding even in the face of a room filled with drow - some nobles. Their venomous words and sidelong glances were nothing new—Minthara had endured their scorn since the fall of the Absolute. But tonight, one of them crossed a line.

Lady Velrith, a figure draped in finery as dark and ostentatious as her twisted smirk, circled Minthara like a predator.

“The mighty Minthara,” she drawled, her voice dripping with mockery. “Once a chosen of the Absolute, now… what? Cast aside by the very gods you claimed to serve? Even Lolth herself wouldn’t sully her name with your devotion.”

Minthara’s hands clenched at her sides, her jaw tightening as she prepared to retort—or strike. Her amber eyes glinted with barely contained rage, but before she could act, you stepped forward.

“Enough,” you said, your voice calm yet laced with a warning. Velrith turned her gaze to you, clearly unimpressed by your intervention.

“And who is this?” Velrith sneered, looking you up and down. “Minthara’s little pet, come to defend her honor? How quaint.”

Your grip tightened on the hilt of your dagger, hidden beneath the folds of your cloak. You were not one for violence—it was something you abhorred, something Minthara often teased you about. But this time, this venomous noble had gone too far. Minthara was yours, your heart, your everything. No one insulted her and lived to gloat about it.

Without a word, you lunged. The dagger moved like a whisper, slicing through the air and finding its mark in Velrith’s throat. Her eyes widened in shock as she staggered, clutching at the wound, blood spilling between her fingers. She collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

The chamber fell into stunned silence. You stood over the noble’s body, your chest heaving as you looked down at her. The room seemed to shrink around you, every eye locked on the scene. But none mattered except Minthara’s.

When you turned to her, she was staring at you, her expression a mixture of astonishment and something else—pride.

“You… killed her,” Minthara said, stepping closer. Her voice was quiet, but the weight of her words hung heavy in the air. “You, who flinch at the mere thought of bloodshed.”

“I did,” you replied simply, wiping the dagger on a scrap of cloth before sheathing it. “She insulted you. I couldn’t stand by and let that happen.”

Minthara’s lips parted, as though she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. For a moment, the ever-composed drow was at a loss. Then, a slow, almost predatory smile spread across her face.

“You stole my kill,” she said, her tone light but edged with amusement. “But I find I cannot be angry with you. Not when you’ve proven yourself so… capable.”

“I wasn’t going to let her speak to you like that,” you said, stepping closer to her. “You deserve better.”

Her amber eyes locked onto yours, and she reached up to cradle your face in her hands.

“You surprise me, my love,” she murmured. “You, with your pacifist heart, spilling blood for me. I could not ask for a more devoted partner.”

Her words sent a warmth through you, even as the weight of what you’d done lingered in the back of your mind. She leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a kiss that was both possessive and tender.

“Next time,” she whispered against your lips, “leave the killing to me. But… thank you. For reminding them, and me, that I am not to be underestimated.”

The two of you left the chamber together, her hand resting on your arm as though to shield you from any further hostility. Though you had shocked her, you had also proven your devotion in a way few ever could.

Lae'zel:

The air in Creche Y'llek was sharp with the scent of steel and the faint tang of psionic energy. Githyanki warriors moved through the halls with an air of superiority, their every movement deliberate and precise. You stayed close to Lae’zel, her presence steady and fierce as ever, though you could sense the tension coiling in her like a spring. This was her home, but it was no safe haven—not anymore.

“Traitorous filth,” a sneering voice cut through the air, stopping the two of you in your tracks.

A gith warrior, clad in gleaming armor, stood with arms crossed, his expression twisted into a contemptuous sneer. His name was Ver’sath, a seasoned warrior and a guard they had encountered at the entrance, and his eyes burned with disdain as they locked onto Lae’zel.

“You dare walk among us, tainted by the ghaik’s spawn?” Ver’sath spat, his voice dripping with disgust. “Your very breath defiles this creche.”

Lae’zel’s jaw tightened, but she stepped forward, her gaze like steel. “I am no ghaik, Ver’sath. I bear the parasite, yes, but it does not rule me. I will cleanse myself and prove my worth.”

Ver’sath snorted, taking a step back as though the mere proximity of her presence was offensive. “You are already lost, Lae’zel. A ghaik puppet masquerading as gith. I wouldn’t sully my blade or my honor by crossing steel with you.”

The insult hung heavy in the air, and you felt your blood boil. Without thinking, without considering the consequences, your hand darted to your weapon. Before Lae’zel could respond, you surged forward, the blade singing as it left its sheath.

The movement was swift, fueled by a fire you rarely allowed to burn. Ver’sath’s eyes widened in shock as your weapon pierced his chest, the blade slipping between the plates of his armor. He staggered back, a choked gasp escaping his lips as he collapsed to the ground.

Silence fell over the corridor, broken only by the sound of his lifeless body hitting the stone floor. You stood there, breathing heavily, your weapon dripping with blood.

“Lae’zel,” you began, turning to her, but her expression stopped you short.

Her golden eyes blazed with a mix of fury and disbelief. She grabbed your wrist, yanking you aside.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” she hissed, her voice low but intense. “We are in a creche! Such actions will not go unnoticed!”

You met her gaze, guilt and defiance warring within you. “He insulted you. He—”

“I did not need your protection,” she snapped, though her grip on your wrist softened. “This place is not like the surface. Here, there are rules—strict ones. You jeopardize both of us.”

“But he called you…” you trailed off, the weight of your impulsiveness settling over you. “I couldn’t let him speak to you like that. I couldn’t stand it.”

For a moment, Lae’zel said nothing. Then, with a heavy sigh, she released your wrist.

“You are a fool,” she muttered, her tone softer now. “A reckless fool. But… you acted from loyalty, and for that, I cannot truly fault you.”

Her gaze lingered on the fallen Ver’sath before returning to you.

“Come,” she said, pulling you away. “We must move quickly before his absence raises questions. But hear me, my love—do not act so rashly again. I can handle the scorn of weaklings like him.”

You nodded, swallowing hard as you followed her. “I only did it because I care.”

She glanced at you, the corner of her mouth twitching in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “I know. But let us survive this place, so you may continue to care another day.”

Shadowheart:

Shadowheart rarely showed fear. She was a woman forged in darkness, raised to endure pain and thrive in chaos. But as she knelt on the damp cobblestones of the alley, surrounded by sneering Sharrans, her shoulders trembled ever so slightly. Their taunts echoed off the walls, cruel and cutting.

"Look at her," one sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "A failed servant of the Dark Lady. What a disgrace. Did Shar discard you like the trash you are?"

Another kicked her in the side, and Shadowheart grunted, but she refused to cry out. "Pathetic," the second hissed. "Begging for scraps of redemption when you were meant to walk the shadows."

The third leaned close, gripping her chin roughly and forcing her to meet his gaze. "Do you miss her embrace, girl? Or did you run because you knew you weren’t worthy?"

Shadowheart’s hand twitched toward her weapon, but she was outnumbered, outmaneuvered, and worse, they knew her weaknesses. She felt their jeers carving into her like knives, cutting far deeper than any blade ever could.

But then, a voice cut through the din like a blade through silk. “Take your hands off her.”

The Sharrans turned, their expressions shifting from derision to surprise as you stepped into the mouth of the alley. You weren’t carrying a weapon; you never did. You were a bard, a healer, someone who mended wounds and sang away sorrow. To them, you were no threat at all.

And yet, there was something in your eyes—a stillness, a quiet storm—that made them pause.

"Or what?" one of them sneered, recovering quickly. "You’ll sing us a ballad?"

Your gaze flicked to Shadowheart. She was watching you, her face pale but her eyes wide with something like warning—or perhaps pleading. And then your attention snapped back to the Sharrans.

It happened so fast they didn’t have time to react. In one fluid motion, you grabbed a discarded spear leaning against the alley wall—likely dropped there by the very fools now surrounding Shadowheart—and hurled it with deadly precision. The first Sharran crumpled to the ground, the spear embedded in his chest.

The others blinked in shock, their bravado faltering. Before they could act, you closed the distance. Your movements were a blur, driven not by technique but by sheer, unrelenting determination. You snatched the spear from the lifeless body and swung it in a wide arc, knocking the second Sharran to the ground. He tried to scramble to his feet, but you drove the butt of the spear into his skull with a sickening crack.

The last Sharran, the one who had dared lay hands on Shadowheart, stumbled back, his confidence shattered.

“You’re mad!” he spat, drawing a dagger. “You’re just a bard—!”

His words were cut short as you thrust the spear forward, impaling him through the heart. He looked down at the weapon protruding from his chest, his mouth opening and closing as if searching for words. Then he fell, lifeless, onto the cobblestones.

You stood there, breathing heavily, the spear still clutched in your hands. Blood dripped from its tip, pooling around your feet. Shadowheart pushed herself upright, staring at you in stunned silence.

“Are you hurt?” you asked, your voice softer than she expected. You turned to her, your hands reaching out, but when you saw the blood on them, you hesitated.

Shadowheart shook her head, stepping closer. “You…” Her voice faltered, her usual poise slipping. “You just…”

You dropped the spear, letting it clatter to the ground as you moved to her side.

“They touched you,” you said simply, as though that explained everything. “No one touches you.”

For a moment, Shadowheart didn’t know what to say. She had always seen you as the gentle one, the light to her shadow, the person who hated violence and refused to carry a blade. And yet here you were, standing over the bodies of her tormentors, bloodied but unbowed.

“You didn’t have to—” she began, but you cut her off with a look.

“Yes, I did,” you said firmly. “And I would do it again.”

Her lips parted, but no words came. Instead, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a fierce embrace, her hands clutching the back of your tunic as though afraid you might disappear. You held her just as tightly, the adrenaline in your veins slowly giving way to the aching reality of what you’d done.

“You’re a fool,” she murmured against your shoulder, her voice thick with emotion. “A reckless, beautiful fool.”

“And you’re worth every risk,” you replied, your lips brushing against her hair.

For once, Shadowheart didn’t argue.

Jaheira:

The evening at the tavern had been pleasant—cozy firelight, a few shared drinks, and soft murmurs of conversation between you and Jaheira. That was until a brash mercenary swaggered in, loud and boisterous, his voice cutting through the calm like a blade. His gaze had landed on Jaheira almost immediately, and the mocking began.

“Well, if it isn’t the elder druid herself,” he sneered, leaning on the edge of your table. “Tell me, Jaheira, do you need a cane to walk the forest now? Or do you just lean on the young one here to keep from breaking a hip?”

Jaheira’s lips tightened, her calm exterior betraying the faintest flicker of irritation. “Is there something you need?” she asked coolly, clearly unimpressed by his attempt to bait her.

The mercenary chuckled, ignoring her measured tone. “No need to get prickly, grandmother. Just surprised to see someone your age still kicking about. Aren’t you tired of pretending you can keep up with the rest of us? Retirement suits your kind better.”

Your hands clenched under the table. You hated violence, avoided it when you could, but the disdain in his voice and the way he looked down at Jaheira lit a fire in your chest. Before Jaheira could respond—before she could dismiss him or turn him into a toad with a flick of her magic—you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor.

“Step outside with me,” you said evenly, your voice calm but cold.

The mercenary blinked, surprised by the sudden challenge from someone who looked so unassuming. “What’s this?” he laughed. “The pacifist wants to have a word?”

“Now,” you insisted, your tone brooking no argument. The quiet intensity in your gaze must have unnerved him, as his smirk faltered before he shrugged and followed you out.

The alley behind the tavern was dark, the cold night air biting at your skin. The mercenary turned to face you, still smirking. “So, what’s this about? You gonna give me a little lecture? Maybe cry about—”

His words were cut off as you moved faster than he expected, the dagger in your hand finding its mark before he could react. A choked sound escaped him as you withdrew the blade, letting him crumple to the ground. You wiped the dagger clean on his tunic and left him where he fell, the anger in your chest finally settling as you turned back toward the warm glow of the tavern.

Jaheira looked up as you reentered the room, her sharp gaze immediately locking onto you.

“What happened?” she asked, her voice laced with suspicion.

“Nothing,” you replied, slipping back into your chair with an air of nonchalance. “It’s taken care of.”

Jaheira’s eyes narrowed slightly, and she reached across the table, her thumb brushing against your cheek. When she pulled her hand back, there was a faint smear of red on her fingertip.

“I see,” she said dryly, a faint smile tugging at her lips despite the situation. “And I suppose I shouldn’t ask for details?”

“Probably not,” you admitted, leaning back in your chair.

Jaheira studied you for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, she reached for her drink, raising it in a small, almost imperceptible gesture of gratitude.

“I don’t need to know,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “But… thank you.”

You smiled, a warmth blooming in your chest that had nothing to do with the firelight.

“Always,” you said simply, and Jaheira’s small smile widened just enough to light up her face. The incident, though dark, faded into the background as the two of you resumed your evening, the connection between you stronger than ever.

I hope everyone is having a very happy holidays, here are some bg3 ladies for you all. Hope you enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[chimcharstar]

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[leafyloveslaughing]

bro. i'll appreciate pretty much any content that's consistent but damn, historical manhwa's where the fashion is consistent? pop off.

[phagodyke]

this chest infection is killing me 😭

[marcus--666]

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[gyuswhore]

Grease (the tragedy)

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.”

jeon wonwoo x reader

word count: 5.8k

warnings: smut [minors DNI], fluff, angst, mechanic!wonu, annoyances to lovers, blind date gone wrong but then gone right, kissing, clit stuff, oral (f. rec), thigh fucking (oop), this all happens at a desk LMAO, title is a what I thought was a funny spin on how people say "grease (the musical)"....has nothing to do with the musical though but lots to do with actual grease!!!

synopsis: In which you have to sit through one of the worst dates of your life, followed by the insistent tug of fate and compulsion that lead you straight back to where you'd sworn you'd never go.

[a/n]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WIFE CAMOTHY @highvern everyone go say happy birthday to cam or ill appear in your room at night 🔫 anygays HAVE FUN READING THIS I hope this is all the sexy wonu content you wanted, I cant wait for your reaction hehehhehe

and also bigbigbigbig thank you to jessifer @the-boy-meets-evil for proofing this for me!!! ily heh

and and to everyone reading this who is not cam, I hope you enjoy reading mechanic!wonu as much as I liked writing him heheh PLS REMEMBER TO REBLOG AND TELL ME UR THOTS it could be in the tags, replies, an ask literally anything!!!! id love to hear what you guys think!!!!

masterlist

 [You]: do you think he died on the way [Liv]: hes still not there??? [You]: what do you think????? [Liv]: let me ask Amelia [You]: dont bother [You]: he can show up whenever he wants im leaving in 5 [Liv]: you promised you’d sit thru this!! [You]: sit thru what? an empty seat across from me???

Liv doesn’t respond immediately, and you immediately know she’s buggered off to ask her cousin why your date still wasn’t here. 

It’s not like you couldn’t have asked him yourself, the sparse textbox sitting just under Liv’s contact. You open it to inspect the contents. 

[liv’s cousin’s something]: Amelia gave me your number [liv’s cousin’s something]: friday night at the sage&salt at 7  [liv’s cousin’s something]: is that okay [You]: uh hey [You]: yeah that’s fine

Today 7:20 PM

[You]: im here?

The first thread of texts were enough to make you feel like this was some cold business meeting instead of a date, knowing wherever this would lead would be either the city dump or off a cliff. Liv was hearing none of it, taking the guilt tripping route, saying she’d already committed and her cousin was irritating enough even without a scuffle.

So when Friday evening came around you’d pulled on the first dress your fingers could find, took all of ten minutes fighting with your makeup to make it look like you did something and left the house with zero expectations. 

Despite that, as you see a man walk into the establishment dressed like he’d gotten into a fight with a squid and a paper shredder, you feel the stone in your chest tank into the abyss. Zero expectations, and he’s somehow managed to strike out anyway. 

The jacket looks like he’s put it on as a weak cover for the grime stains on his shirt and trousers, a couple jet black splatters across the outfit to really pull the whole thing together. It’s not like he looked homeless or anything, his face surprisingly handsome with his hair pushed away from his forehead. Although he remains looking like he’d been playing football in some neighbourhood parking lot before remembering he had an adult appointment too. 

You’d never seen the man in your life, but your gut told you this was the shit texter who’d kept you waiting for nearly an hour. He seems to notice too, eyes locking from across the restaurant as the waitress leads him to your table. 

“Wonwoo,” you greet with a difficult smile, half sure it came out as a grimace. “Right?”

“Yeah,” he huffs as he practically slams back down on the chair, and you wonder for a moment how the legs didn’t give out. He says your name and you nod. “Sorry I’m late, I got a call in the parking lot.”

He’s been in the parking lot this entire time?!

It’s like you’ve been doused in gasoline and lit on fire, yet somehow needing to give him a shaky reply anyway. 

“O–oh, I see.”

The waitress saves you from spitting in his face when she asks if you were ready to order. 

Dinner was off the table, as you discussed with Liv who forwarded it to her cousin to her–whoever it was that set up this god awful date–and agreed on dessert and perhaps a drink. 

“I’ll have the chocolate cake,” you request in an attempt to make this somewhat better. You consider for a moment before asking for a drink as well, “And a dry gin martini, please.”

“Um,” he staggers as he barely skims the menu, ultimately flipping it closed. “I’ll have the same, I guess.”

Deep voice. You might’ve liked that if you weren’t already so peeved. 

The waitress disappears with the menus, leaving you two alone for the first time. 

“So,” you start with an exhale. “How do you know Amelia?”

“Her husband.”

“I see.”

Silence. 

“How do you know her husband?”

He sighs like this is all inconveniencing him, and it irks you to an irrespective degree. Like you wanted to be here either. 

“He brings his car to the workshop alot, became friends somewhere along the line.”

“Workshop?”

He looks a little startled, cocking his head to the side. “I’m a mechanic? Did Olivia–was it–not tell you?”

“No, she didn’t.”

It’s silent yet again as the man across from you refuses to elaborate. You curse as you ask him a follow up question. If there was anything you hated more than shouldering a dead conversation, it was sitting through an awkward silence. 

One hour. You’d sit through this for one more hour and then you’d leave. 

“What kind of cars do you work on?”

“Expensive ones,” he answers. You might’ve kicked yourself if he’d ended it at that, but he continues with a purse of his lips. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it. Vintage pieces too.”

“Have I heard of it?”

“The cars?”

“No, I mean,” you let out a breath. “Your workshop.”

“Jeon Motors, just a couple streets down actually.”

You did know what he was talking about, not expecting to recognise it through the empty question, passing by it on multiple occasions in this part of the city.

“Oh, I’ve seen it a few times.”

“Yeah, we’ve been there for a while.”

“Family business?”

“Uh–sort of.” 

“Okay,” you sigh in an irritated laugh. This was going to be a very difficult hour. “Keep that to yourself too.”

“Is there a problem?”

Just as you lift your eyes to lock with his, a ready yes, there is actually a problem on your tongue, there’s an intrusion. 

“Here are your chocolate cakes,” the waitress places the cakes down, and then the drinks. “And your dry gin martinis. Do you guys need anything else?” By the time the waitress is gone you’ve somewhat forced yourself to put that sudden surge of flames out, to a degree at least. 

“Okay,” he sighs, grabbing his glass and downing nearly half the contents. He emerges, wiping a bit of a spill from the corner of his mouth. “Let’s get this out of the way.”

“Hm?” He’s speaking to you with a very weird surge of intensity, and it confuses you.

“Neither of us wanna be here. You’re clearly trying to be hospitable but I’d really rather you not, especially when we’re both doing this to get our respective ticks off our hides.”

There isn’t much you can do but stare at him. 

“Have I misjudged your advances?” he asks over his glass, sharp eyes piercing. 

“No!” you yelp, reaching for your drink yourself, taking big sips only to emerge sputtering and heaving. 

Your date looks like he’s rising out of his chair when you raise a hand to stop him. 

“No,” you repeat, less jumpy this time. “I guess we could’ve cleared that out from before.”

Did he…snort?

“Sorry.” Dropping his chin to his chest, he composes himself. 

“What?” you ask, remaining annoyed as ever. 

“Nothing.”

That does it. You slam your now empty glass down on the table, slipping your fork out of the napkin a little forcefully, the metal glinting in the light of the restaurant. You dig into a corner of the cake and shove it in your mouth. 

If he was gonna be rude, you could be too. 

“I don’t know about hospitable.” You swallow. “But I assumed not being an ass was kind of an unwritten rule for any situation really. Including the ones you’d rather not be in.”

Wonwoo stares at you with a blank face, his cake untouched. “I’m being an ass. My laugh couldn’t have offended you that much.”

“So you did pick that up,” you comment. “With the way this conversation’s going I would’ve thought it flew right over your engine.”

“I’d argue your laugh was the least offensive thing you’ve done tonight.” You plunge your fork into your cake again. “But clearly we’re in different realms of etiquette.”

Your eyes meet the rough stains on his attire, and then his own that bore into yours like a challenge. The cake isn’t too sweet, rich just the right amount and texturally sound. Maybe something good did come out of this fiasco. 

“Okay fine,” he announces, sitting up straighter. “I apologise.”

“For laughing?”

“And for being obscenely late.”

“And?”

“And…” he genuinely looks like he’s struggling to figure it out, but catches your eyes flickering to his tattered and stained outfit. “And for my entirely inappropriate dressing sense. You’ll have to forgive me for that one, oil and grime are my spoils of war.”

“Wear it like a badge, mister mechanic, but perhaps somewhere it’s appreciated.” 

Wonwoo has already finished his drink, his cake remaining untouched. “You’re quite adamant on disliking me.”

“And you’re quite adamant on being a horrid conversationalist.”

The corners of his mouth lift the slightest bit. Opening his mouth to respond, you cut him off. “Cars don’t talk? Or perhaps, machines are easier to understand?”

“More like I don’t care to be personable.”

“That can’t be good for business.”

“The cars speak for themselves.”

He’s a weird one. Even more so when he offers to pay the entire bill, promising you he wasn’t lying when he said he was good at what he does, and to “make up for lost personality points.” You manage to pay your half anyway, considering the circumstances. 

“Can you at least let me drive you home?” Wonwoo asks as you both step out of the establishment soon after. 

“Depends.” You fix the strap of your bag. “Will it fall apart on the highway?”

The blaring white of the restaurant's outdoor lights backlight Wonwoo to make him look like some sad angel. He turns to you, the same slight smirk that seems to be plastered on his face. “Why don’t you find out?”

“What do you mean sell it? I got this thing a year ago!” 

There isn’t much you can do but sigh loudly as you listen to Olivia talk about the state of her car, the one that cost too much to justify but she seemed to use and abuse like a very replaceable toy truck. 

Leaning against the hood of the darn thing, you talk to her. “The dealership is giving you a shit deal to take it off your hands, you might as well try your luck.”

The look on her face is easy to read as she silences. Not convinced in the slightest, waiting for the conversation to end just so she could figure it out on her own. Sighing loudly, you look back to the dark beauty with a crate of issues that make it spit and sputter to a stop every few weeks. 

“How much did you say the repairs cost again?”

“Enough to put me on food stamps,” she whines through her frustration, tears pricking against her eyes as they glisten under the neighbourhood streetlights. “Why are you smirking like that?!”

“It’s just,” you pause as you consider your next words, pressing your lips together. “This is a little bit your fault.”

Lies, it was entirely her fault. 

Liv stares like you’ve just offended her, which you’re sure you have.

“Care to share how this possible bankruptcy could be my fault?"

“Because you drive the thing like you have a secret reserve buried somewhere in Tenerife.”

“My apologies for making a habit of not being a public nuisance and going forty on a national highway.”

“Your speed-o-metre is not the issue here.”

“Yes, of course, everything’s my fault.”

“Liv, please!” You groan loudly. “Just…let’s try putting up a listing tomorrow. Consider the prospects and you can decide from there.”

Sagging her shoulders and stretching her neck, Liv decides to simply trudge back indoors in silence. You take it as a begrudging yes, and follow her inside. 

That very night, when you were at the very cusp of falling into the dark space of sleep, your brain re-awakens before your eyes do. A jolt as the memory comes back to you of the many months ago, sitting in that restaurant across from a man who was too handsome for the personality he seemed to sire. 

“Expensive ones,” he had said. “Ones that rich people abuse to an inch of the machine’s life and wonder why the dealership gives up on it.”

How fitting. 

“Are you going to explain or should I explode instead?” 

You’d mentally prepared for the bombardment of accusations from Liv, her questioning perfectly right as you yourself cringed at the thought of showing your face here of all places. The one last one that’d officially banned her from ever setting you up with an individual of her choosing ever again. 

Hearing only silence as her answer, she appeals; “I thought he was the worst date of your life.”

“Nothing to do with his skills as a mechanic,” you mumble, refusing to make eye contact. 

“And everything to do with this being a horrible idea anyway!” Liv stares up at the sign on top of the garage. Jeon Motors. “What makes you think this guy can fix my car?”

What did make you think he could fix Liv’s car? If you’d known you might have given her an answer, but as you stare at the giant signboard that you’ve driven past for longer than you can remember, you can’t help but feel this place has been haunting you. Just a little. 

You can’t help but feel the tingle of goosebumps rise on your skin, the hairs across the expanse standing up at the thought of walking inside. There was no way you could differentiate the reaction from plain nerves or from the cringing drills that sound all the way outside the establishment. Regardless, you make an attempt to look confident as you make your strides into the pungent of the workshop. 

The first thing you note is how…clean everything is. Cleaner than any other workshop you’ve walked into anyway. 

The interior is bigger than it looks from the outside, the ginormous hall hosting about a dozen cars within your eyeshot alone. One side of the great hall holds an array of parked cars in different stages of dismantled and deconstructed, while the other side is lined with contraptions that look like stripped and enlarged elevators. 

Once you’ve inhaled a beyond recommended amount of smoke fumes and listened past all of the clanging, banging and sparks, you register the people that are elbow deep in the hoods of the vehicle they’re working on, enough to leave you and Liv standing at the entrance of an establishment that you can barely make sense of. 

“Can I help you?” A man in stained beige overalls approaches your wide eyed pair, face half covered in his baseball hat and hands occupied with a rag. 

To your slightest dismay, it isn’t the man you’re looking for.

“Uh– is Wonwoo here?” you ask. 

“He’s in a meeting right now. Are you a friend?” 

No, just a failed love interest.

“He,” you falter. If you weren’t a friend…then what were you? “He gave me his card.”

“Do you need help with your car?”

“Mine, actually,” Liv pipes. “It’s outside if you wanna take a look first.”

With one sweeping look across the warehouse, your eyes land on one of the few doors on the left. You register the plain look of it for barely a moment before joining Liv outside. 

By the time her car has been rolled and parked inside for a more thorough inspection, it’s taken you every last grain of your willpower to not stalk back out and wait in your car. For whatever reason, you can’t help but feel a very familiar spasm of irritation spark through you. Here you are, left anxiously waiting for the same man for a second time, merely feet away but remaining occupied with more important things. 

At the very least, the multiple hands prodding around the car’s engine were being somewhat of use, attempting to survey the same issues that had been looked at about a dozen times before. You silently promise to be a better person if this trip wouldn’t be for vain.  

“Am I late for something again?” 

Your throat is suddenly clogged as you open your mouth and no sound graces your presence. The face that meets you has his eyebrows raised as he stares at you in expectation, a ghost of a smile on his face. 

“W–Wonwoo, hi, um.” You clear your throat loudly, heat cursing your cheeks. “No, of course not.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure after…four months?” he asks, hands on his hips and his back straightened.

“I…my friend’s car needed to be looked at so…”

“Ah, of course!” He turns to where you’ve motioned, looking at the popped hood of the car his employees are working on. “I’ll take a look at it myself, don’t worry about it.”

He’s already walking away, towards the car and leaving you a ways away from the action. You stare at his back; the overalls tied at the waist and the stained white T-shirt that clings to his form from the humidity.

Wonwoo remains a man of a few words, and you remain at wits end about it all. 

A loud honk gives you something to do as you jump at the sound so up close, scrambling to move away from the smack centre as another car pulls into the garage. 

“Careful, those marks on the floor aren’t just oil and paint.” Wonwoo snickers from his place hunched over the hood as he cranes his neck to look at you. 

You walk over to where he is to get out of the way. “Was that meant to sound like an innuendo?”

“I was talking about the occasional running over someone’s foot,” he answers. “Not sure what you were thinking.” 

Ignoring the jab, you note that it was now only you and him crowding the car, “Where’s Olivia?”

“Went to look at spare parts.” You watch him as his gloved hands reach further into the enclave and yank at something hard. 

“So you can fix it?” 

“The car? It’ll take a couple days but it’s not really an issue.”

Furrowing your brows, you press on, “But the dealership—”

“Dealerships are the spawn of the devil,” he grunts as he finally wrenches out a spare nut or bolt or something that’s covered in oil. “Let me guess, they wanted her to sell it back to them?”

It’s your turn to raise your brows. “Yes. They tried fixing it, but it'd just stop again.”

“Because they’ve been fixing the symptoms.” He raises his eyes to meet yours, hands occupied with rubbing the part in his hands relatively clean with a rag. “They haven’t bothered to do anything about the actual problem.” 

“Because that’s gonna cost…?”

“Couple hundred, give or take,” he announces nonchalantly, turning his focus back to the engine. 

“But—” That’s it?

“Fifty extra for every question I have to answer after this.” You briefly wonder if Wonwoo’s eyes were always this piercing, boring into your soul like he didn’t need words to know what was going on with you. 

“Fine,” you huff, moving to drag a chair over, mostly just so you could have reason to break eye contact, and plop down as you watch him work. 

The more you think about it, the more you can find yourself unbothered by his strange behaviour. He wasn’t bleak, but nowhere near one of the more interesting people you’ve met. Taking the opportunity to really scan the man head to toe, you can’t say you find anything truly concrete to be this put off by him. 

Not much of a talker, but with the times you’ve prayed for a man that knew when to shut up sometimes, you wonder how much you can actually complain about this boon in particular. 

Besides, he was a looker, and you were completely content shutting your trap if it meant you got to shamelessly ogle at him from this close. 

“You know, this place looks bigger than it does from the outside.”

Wonwoo stares pointedly. 

You raise a shoulder in nonchalance, “Wasn’t a question!”

He simply huffs as he mumbles, “More length than breadth I suppose.”

“What are those things called?” you ask as you watch a sedan get lifted into the on some platform on the other end of the row. 

Glancing back, he answers, “Post lift, car lift, whatever you wanna call it.”

“What does it do?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Touché.” 

Glancing back at him, you catch sight of his stained shirt once again. “Is that the same thing you wore to our date?”

Chin to chest, he registers what he’s wearing, hands still working on pulling bolts and boxes out of the hood. “Have about twenty of the same shirt, I can never be too sure.”

“You’re impossible.”

He smirks, “Touché.” 

You questioned if this was a mistake. 

Olivia could pick up her car herself, so why did you insist to be the one that did it? As you pay the taxi driver, you feel your ankles lock for a moment as you move to slip out of the cab. Frozen, you hear the driver ask you if everything was alright, to which your legs seem to work again, finally foot to gravel in front of the dreaded workshop.

The Jeon Motors sign blares the same as it always has in the afternoon light, glinting as it encourages you to walk in and do one of the stupider things you’ve done in life. Other than the ridiculous outfit you’ve put on, of course. 

But alas, as you hand over your slip to one of the many mechanics in the workshop, you find yourself praying he wasn’t here after all, that perhaps you could miss him as you leave and never have to see him again. 

Somebody yells out his name, and the dream drifts away like smoke. 

Finding the courage, you look up to where the man shouted for him, and immediately wish you hadn’t. 

Wonwoo remains in his overalls, the same ones that he had tied to his waist the last time you saw him. His undershirt however…

The tank top is revealing too much for you to pretend you don’t care, his hair remaining pushed back and away from his forehead as he walks over to you in what feels like slow motion. He takes the slip that he does not need, smiling at you as he says his hellos. 

“Car’s all fixed up, just need some papers that need signing and you’re all set.”

“Oh, but Liv isn’t here today.”

“That’s alright, you can sign them too,” he reassures, motioning for you to walk with him towards the car. “The car was alright in the test drives, revving hasn’t caused any problems either.”

He halts in front of the now (supposedly) fixed black sedan and pats the hood lightly, “If anything happens tell her to bring it straight here, although it shouldn’t have any more problems.”

“What’s your rate of return on customers?” you ask, a slight smirk on your face.

He thinks for a moment, “Pretty crap. But I guess that means I’m doing something right.”

You consider yourself something of a helicopter parent when it comes to your own car, but perhaps you’d change that if it meant you’d get to come here a little more often. 

Goodness, what’s gotten into you.

Wonwoo’s smiling too, and for a brief moment the silence is nearly awkward. A pause before he proposes leaving. 

“Shall we go to the office then?” 

Nodding eagerly, you trail behind him as he leads you towards the other end of the workshop, passing by even more cars in all their stripped or constructed glory. Glancing in front, you catch sight of Wonwoo’s back, ensnared for a moment before you snap your head away, reciting every curse word you know like a mantra. 

“It’s less hot in here too, keep the air on all the time.” Wonwoo stands in front of the plain doors, hands on the handle to wrench it open. You recognise it as the same door you had noted a few days ago. “Would you like anything? Coffee, tea?”

“Um, just water is fine, thanks.”

It’s quite plain, beige and leather against cream walls and unfittingly white lights. There’s a desk on one corner that’s beyond cluttered with more papers than you can register, pens and other office supplies mixed into the disorganised chaos of the large tabletop.

“Sorry about the mess, I can never find time to sort through it.” To your surprise, the light tinge of his cheeks suggest he might actually feel a little embarrassed. 

Cute. 

There’s cabinets that line on one of the far walls, and you watch him take his gloves off to open it and reach for a cup. The white porcelain emerges stained with an ashy grey as his fingers betray him. He looks flustered, glancing at his hands and back up to the cabinet. 

You can’t help but laugh a little, moving forward to help. “It’s alright, let me.”

“Sorry,” he apologised again, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll, um, wash this off.”

“Go on, I’m here,” you reassure as you move towards the water dispenser in the corner to fill your clean cup. 

He returns with significantly cleaner hands and apologises one last time. “Seems all I do around you is apologise.”

You have the good humour to chuckle, “So I’ve noticed.”

He does well to clear out most of the clutter that’s on his desk, leaving enough room to set down a few pieces of paper as you take a seat on the opposite side. 

As you scan through the papers, he attempts to make sober conversation. “You should…bring your car around for inspections if you want.”

“Oh? Even if I ask a million questions?”

“I can make an exception or two,” he grins. 

“And if you charge me double?”

“Might not charge you at all.”

“Might?” you question as you lift the pen he’d given you to sign the first space. 

“Might.”

“And what’re the conditions for that?” 

He doesn’t answer as he ponders and you fill in the second blank. “I’ll have to think about that.”

You snort before you can help it, your last signature coming out a little wonky as your hands shake. Turning the papers over to him, you continue, “Well then, let me know when you figure it out.”

He stares pointedly as he accepts the papers before dropping his eyes again, “Can I?”

“Hm?”

“Can I? Let you know?” 

It’s like you’ve been frozen over, the typewriter in your mind jamming as it punches out the implications of what he’s saying. 

“It seems, at least to me, that we may have gotten off on the wrong foot,” he continues. 

You hesitate. “I think so too.”

“I…I don’t want to put anything like pressure on you but–” 

“Would you like to try the new gelato place downtown this week?” you ask finally as you save him from his misery. “If…you’d like.”

He looks stunned for a moment before he’s scrambling, “Oh–of course! Yes, anytime is fine with me.”

“Great,” you smile, lifting from your seat. “It’s a date.”

“I’ll promise to wash my hands this time…and my shirt. And I won’t be late.” 

“Let’s not make promises we can’t keep,” you tease. 

You’re nearing the door as he follows behind, and just as you’re about to pull down on the handle, you hear him say your name. 

Turning around, almost too eagerly, you look up at him in expectation. He’s close, almost right behind you as he looks like he’s debating whether opening his mouth is a good idea. 

“Are you doing anything else today?” 

“Um,” you stutter for a moment. “I don’t have to drop off the car till later tonight, that’s all really.”

He swallows. “Do you wanna stay? Just a little while. We can stay in here, nobody comes in anyway.”

You aren’t entirely sure why you said yes, because you did actually have dinner plans with Liv later tonight, but the teeny tiny voice in your mind egged you on anyway. Besides, Liv wouldn’t mind, not if you were cancelling for this.

This entailed the very friendly contact of Wonwoo’s tongue in your mouth, and the extremely cordial way it seemed to caress your insides. If somebody asked you how it led to this, you don’t think you’d have an answer. Not that you care, especially when his hands are grabbing your waist and hips like that.

He’s already locked the door, reassuring you that nobody would find their boss and client in the smack dab middle of the devil’s tango. You take his word for it, relishing in the way his hot breath hits your skin below your ears, his mouth sucking under your earlobes as you whimper ever so quietly. 

Your hands are on his exposed biceps, feeling him up all to your heart's content. “Do you–Do you always wear stuff like this?”

He emerges, wet lipped and eyes trained. “So I wasn’t imagining it.”

“Imagining what?” you ask as you let him unbuckle your trousers.

“Please. Like you weren’t stripping me with your eyes.”

If you were warm before you, you're boiling up now. Were you being so obvious?

“It’s alright,” he reassures as you feel his fingers make contact with the crotch of your panties, pushing in to put pressure on your clit. “Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t picked up on it.”

You feel his fingers push the dampening fabric away as his fingers make contact with your hole, coating his fingers in the arousal that’s made itself known. It’s hard to not hiss at the way he begins to circle it, thanking the universe that the loud noises of the workshop outside were masking whatever evidence of the heinous crime you were committing inside. 

Back against the couch in his office, you settle into the cushions once you feel him rub at your clit, one hand spreading your lips apart as he continues to massage your own wetness onto your throbbing cunt. 

When he retreats you almost cry out, but are smothered when he plunges two fingers into your hole instead, curling them almost immediately inside you. The consistent brush of the tips of his fingers on your walls are making it difficult to keep your eyes open, and absolutely impossible to keep your moans at bay. 

“Wonwoo, that’s so good, fuck.”

Through your closed eyes, you don’t note when Wonwoo gets on his knees. But you do feel him yank your trousers off entirely, and you definitely feel him place his wet mouth flush on your lower lips, sucking at your clit as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you mercilessly. 

That’s all it takes for your noises to become increasingly high pitched, hands buried in his beautiful hair as he continues to pleasure you beyond imagination. 

“I’m so close, keep going, please, it feels so–”

He somehow buries his face in deeper, sucking harder, licking faster, and it’s enough for you to finally feel yourself collapsing on the inside, your composure dissolving as you moan so loud you’re sure they can hear it outside, even through all the clanging and revs of cars. 

There’s no way for you to know how long you lay there slumped against the couch cushions, but when you hear Wonwoo speak to you in your ear, you answer. 

“Was that okay?”

“More than okay,” you say as you grab his face and pull his lips to yours, tasting the tang in his mouth from your arousal. “Do you have a condom?”

“I–fuck,” he thinks for a moment. “I don’t think I do.”

You try not to feel too disappointed, but you sigh into his mouth anyway. 

“Can I fuck your thighs?” you hear him ask, and you might have just orgasmed again, untouched. 

“Fuck, yes you can.” 

With a yelp, you feel yourself lifted off the couch as you wrap your arms around Wonwoo’s neck, letting him guide you to his desk. “Wonwoo!”

You hear a loud crash of the desk being stripped of all its inhabitants, and your back hitting the cool of the table top. 

Wonwoo unties the arms of his overalls around his waist, letting the legs pool to the floor before slipping his hard cock out of his boxers. 

You don’t see it as you feel him lock your knees together and lift both your calves to rest on one of his shoulders. But you do feel it as he pushes the head into the seam of your thighs, watching the indent as the pink of his dick appears before you through the skin of your thighs. 

Wonwoo’s face is contorted as he pulls back and pushes back through again, this time brushing against your still sensitive clit. You gasp at contact, and immediately feel him thrusting faster. 

“Wonwoo,” you grunt. “Lower.”

He obliges, pushing his dick lower so it can rub flush against your clit as he begins to roughen up his pace. 

You moan as you feel his free hand that isn’t holding your legs trail to the ends of your shirt, caressing over your stomach to pull it up and reveal your bra clad tits. He pushes his hands under the nearest cup and begins to grope you so wonderfully with his big, warm hands. Rolling the bud between his fingers, you can only grasp onto his wrists as a handheld to keep you down on earth. 

The desk beneath you is rattling with noise, the full drawers making themselves known as Wonwoo pounds into your thighs like he would die if he stopped, mouth coming in contact with whatever skin of your legs he could reach, his breath fanning the side of your knees. 

You’re close again, and you know he is too with the way his thrusts are beginning to grow sloppy. 

“There,” he pants. “Almost.”

You orgasm for the second time, the throb your clit beyond comprehension as the rough of his dick slides across your clit mercilessly. 

“Cum like this, Wonwoo please I need to see you cum.”

And he does, shooting the heft of his load to cover your already wet cunt and thighs, landing on your stomach as he continues to ride out his high between your legs. 

The back of your head hits the table as you take in gulps of air through the aftermath of it all. Wonwoo is putting his weight on the back of your thighs, holding onto the table for support. 

“Oh, Liv is never gonna let me live this down,” you pant, lolling your head to one side as you register him. 

He peers up at you through his hair, the stupid smirk on his face, “Do you care?”

You’re smiling a little too when you answer, “Not really.”

And then your legs are off his shoulders as he nestles between them instead, diving in to lift your head and kiss you. 

And you let him, although you wouldn’t really call it too much of a kiss—not when the both of you were smiling like idiots through the clash. 

[pombeom]

okay never rlly done this before but here me out, txt fic inspired by "guess" by charli xcx and billie eilish. i dont have a member preference but i based it on tae (›´ω`‹ ) HERE ME OUT roomatetyunx reader. txt and reader's friend group decide to go out for dinner/clubbing. reader has secretly been liking tae for a WHILE, and THIS WAS THE NIGHT. and reader puts on a very VERY short skirt/dress (they know what they were doing) and purposely leans down when tae is behind them *evil laughs*

(also imagined it as afab but idrc)

sorry i dont have anything else to add but you now have the reins (๑˘ꇴ˘๑)

guess | taehyun fic (nsfw)

nsfw, mdni!

pairings: domroommate!taehyun x subtease!reader

warnings: soobin present at the start, lots of mentions of underwear, teasing, fingering, scissoring, wall sex, creampie, squirting, messy sex, taehyun is kinda kinky, panty stuffing, mentions of exhibitionism, they both have sex while standing up, taehyun gives orders and reader follows, nicknames (baby, slut), unprotected sex, lots of dirty talking, am i forgetting something??

a/n: thank you so much for your request! decided to go with taehyun cos i could envision your request so clearly. you guys are such teases istg but im all here for it 🤧

Being Taehyun’s roommate isn’t for the weak. The way he’s come back after his daily workouts in his compression shirts with his hair pushed back made your knees quiver every time he would walk in through the door. You swore it was a secret you guarded with your life but everyone around you seemed to know of your little crush. Your friends managed to catch on as soon as they witnessed your head swivel whenever he’d walk past, staring a little too longingly in his direction. 

“Y/n you should just tell him at this point. I can’t watch you drool over him any longer, it’s gross,” Soobin advises you on your way out from class. 

“No but what if doesn’t feel the same way?” 

“Trust me. He does. And if he doesn’t then that’s his loss. I’ll bag you up if he doesn’t want you,” his wink had you reacting with a disgusted scowl.

“Anyway, we’re meeting up for dinner this Saturday. One of our friends has had to cancel last minute so there’s an extra space in the reservation. Wanna come? Taehyun’s coming too you know. Maybe you can finally tell him how you feel.”

“I’ll think about it.”

“Oh come on. We’re heading the the club after. It’ll be fun.” 

“Fine. Only because you insisted.” 

“You don’t need to lie to me. I know you’re only coming cos Taehyun’s coming.” 

“Shut up.” 

By the time Saturday evening rolls up, you had planned your outfit and gone through your confession speech multiple times. You finished your hair and makeup and slipped into a black mini dress that was slightly too short but it hugged your figure so well that you wanted to show off as much as you can. You pair it with a black kitten heel, preparing for your time at the club later that night. But most importantly, your needy cunt was exposed through the black lace underwear you wore under your tiny dress. 

Feeling a sense of feigned confidence, you step out of your room, heading into your shared living space where Taehyun was waiting. He’s sat sprawled across the armchair, taking up the entire seat as he manspread whilst scrolling through his phone. Upon hearing the clacking of your heels, his head jolts up taking in your presence. He eyes your naked thighs, feeling the sharpness of his gaze lasering through your legs making your knees go weak. 

“You look nice,” his compliment has your confidence crumbling as you instantly resort back to your usual shyness. 

“Thank you,” your voice comes out more strained than you wanted but this was a reaction to the current wetness building up in your folds as you begin to notice the way his shirt clings to his body, looking almost see-through under his brown jacket. 

“You ready to go?” 

He follows you to the door when suddenly you pause.

“Hang on. Just need to fix my heels. The strap is a little loose.” 

You arch forward, bending down to reach your shoes as the back of your dress rides up. You felt exposed as your underwear was evidently wet but you sought the thrill of provoking a reaction from the man behind you. Even as you were still bent down fumbling with your straps, you felt his gaze staring heavily into your core, past the black lace fabric. 

“Ok, I’m done. We can go now.” 

You hand barely reaches the doorknob before you’re being pulled back into his chest. 

“You think it’s funny to tease me like that?”

“Mhm?? What do you mean?” 

“Playing dumb won’t work on me.” 

“I don’t get it. What are you talking about?” You kept egging him on with your masquerade of innocence, each step getting him a little further to your desired goal. 

“You’re still gonna keep going with that? Even after you flashed your underwear to me?”

“What? I did that? Really? I bet you don’t even know the colour of my underwear.”

“Oh baby, I don’t even have to guess. I saw that black lace with my very own eyes. That little bow was cute too.” 

You hadn’t noticed until you felt his breath against your neck but he has inched closer to you, his arms slowly crawling up your legs, grabbing onto your waist. Your cheeks burned from the closeness you had been longing for. 

“You wanna tell me you did that on purpose or are you gonna keep pretending that you flashed me by accident?” His voice grumbled, echoing through the chambers of your mind. 

Your breath was shaky and unstable as you managed to answer his question, “It was on purpose, Taehyun.”

Before you knew it, his lips came crashing onto your, sucking the life out of you. The lustful kiss had you moaning into his mouth as his tongue darts into yours, claiming you for himself. 

“I knew it. Now take those panties off.” 

Lifting your dress up, you slip your underwear down, letting it fall to the ground as the wetness begins dripping down your legs.

“Shit, look at you. Fucking drenched already. Bet you’ve been dreaming of this: wanting to strip naked in front of me just so I can get a look at how much of a slut you are for me. Am I right?” 

“You’re righ- ahh!” 

His fingers circle your entrance before you get then chance to finish, teasing your hole. Before long, he pushes in 2 long fingers, struggling to keep going in your tight, clenched pussy. 

“God, are you a virgin? You’re so fucking tight.” He groans as he manages to get his fingers deep into your core, feeling the tightness squeeze his digits. 

“Mhmm… I am. Wanted your cock to be the first inside me.” 

“Fucking hell. You’ve been waiting for me all this time huh? Guess I’ll have to give you everything you’ve dreamed of.” 

His fingers scissor you walls, stretching you out in preparation for his cock. The way your muscles are pulled sends shock waves running down your leg, almost losing sensation in them as you’re on the verge of collapsing, gripping onto Taehyun’s shoulders for support. 

“I want your dick in me. Now!” You demand. 

“Why so desperate? You’ve been such a tease and you won’t even let me finger your cunt. But ok, I’ll give it to you. Just don’t expect me to go easy.” 

He unzips his trousers, pulling them down along with his boxers in one go. He strips himself of his jacket, remaining only in his white form-fitting t-shirt. 

His cock springs up onto his stomach. The tip is red while his length is girthy and long beyond average, the veins matching the ones that run up his forearms. He teases your hole by pumping just the tip in making you grind against him, hips rolling as you force yourself onto him. 

He pushes your back up against the wall, controlling your movement before slamming straight into your gummy walls, your moans shrieking out from surprise. 

“Fuck Taehyun! Keep going like that!”

His movements are controlled and precise, making sure to hit the g-spot with each pump. Your moans become uncontrollable with the increase in speed, crying as he slams into your repeatedly, abusing your cunt. 

He then lifts up your thigh, holding it against his waist, allowing him to hit different angles making your mind feel fuzzy at the new sensation. 

“Fuck. If you keep clenching round my cock like that, I might cum already.” His grunts are disheveled and all over the place as he begins to lose control over his speed, rutting into you like some dog. 

“I’m gonna cum too. Please. Please come in me.” Your whispers are the only sound that comes out you as your voice has cracked with all the screams you let out.

He spills his spurts inside you, coating your walls in white as you feel his dick throbbing inside your trembling pussy. Your orgasm hit like the ocean onto the rocks, the speed at which you came leading to a spray of liquid to shoot out. Your eyes instantly shut, feeling exhausted from being fucked out to your climax. 

“You squirted?” 

“I guess I did.” 

After letting your body cool down from the intensity, you pick up your panties, getting ready to slip them back on, when Taehyun’s voice hisses at you, grabbing your underwear from your hands before shoving them up your stretched hole, pushing it in deeper and deeper until it remains stuck in your sobbing cunt.

“Let’s see how you tease everyone else looking like this.” 

“But Taehyun, it was only meant for you. I can’t go out like this. Let me out them back on, please” 

“Only for me huh? You only want me to see you in this state?” 

You nod frantically, “You’re the one I like Taehyun.” 

“The little brat likes me. Well I like you too. Your pussy was made for my cock and you take it so well. But you still deserved to be punished for teasing me like that. Keep the underwear stuffed in your pussy and go put on another pair.”

Following his orders, you head back to your room, picking out some pink panties, feeling the black lace slipping out. You push it back in and secure it in place by hitching the pink pair up high. You waddle back to Taehyun who was now fully dressed again. Your legs feel uncomfortably shaky as you walk but his arms hold your waist, supporting you. He bends down checking that you’ve followed his orders, grinning with satisfaction as he catches a glimpse of the pinkx

“Good girl. Now no one can guess what you have going on under there but me.” 

[ifwdominicfike]

you try to get guitarist!matt to listen to one taylor swift song since he apparently “hates” her music

── .✦. ──

“matt im telling you, one song wouldn’t hurt you. or are you just too scared you’ll like it?” you felt the chillest breeze outside and decided to play folklore on repeat because who wouldn’t? anyway, matt was fed up with hearing about “some girl complaining about her failed relationships” but you couldn’t care less.

“sweetheart, it’s literally just the same song but about a different guy. she’s too overplayed i don’t get how you like that shit” he scoffs, making his way around the couch. “everyone says that though, you’ve only heard her pop songs that why — her other songs are masterpieces. all of her lyrics are basically me.” you sarcastically say — but not really.

as he sits down on the cushion you scoot your way over to him, laying your head on his shoulder. “pleaseee just one song? i promise you’ll like it, well hopefully i dont know.” you ask with a smile, he lets out a sigh and finally agrees. “yeah sure come on, show me this song then sweetheart.”

you now have the biggest smile on your face and get up from your comfortable position, and turn to make your way to your shared room to grab headphones “wait here” you excitedly say, as if he would vanish the second you were gone.

when you came back with the black bulky headphones he was already looking your way, smiling at your excited state. “this better be good if you’re this happy about this, if i don’t like the song and its some girly girl pop shit, m’clowning your ass for it.” he jokes when putting on the headphones and adjusting them, you were a little nervous — it was obviously something he would never in a million years listen to on his own but he always shows you his music so whats the worst that can happen ?

you figured why not something from your favorite album of hers, folklore. you were going through the tracklist trying to figure out which song until you were pulled out of your thoughts by matt groaning. “come on sweetheart, m’falling asleep over here” he fakes yawns and rubs at his eyes. “shush i have the song ready, now listen its my favorite!”

you click on the song and look up at him to watch his reaction, you obviously can’t hear the music but you already know how it goes “i’ve been having a hard time adjusting, i had the shiniest wheels now they’re rusting.”

as the song continues to play you can see matt swaying a little, you smile when you notice the amusement on his face. the bridge of the song starts up and he stops all movement, listening carefully as the lyrics spew into his ears. he looks over at you in disbelief, jaw dropped as the song now fades out and he’s slipping off the headphones.

“sweetheart thats you’re favorite song?” he says sniffling “well y-yeah? why is it bad?” you ask confused “no, not at all- s’just really fucking sad” he said chuckles before pulling you into a hug “if y’think thats sad then i need to show you more”

“her music s’not that bad i guess..” he says sarcastically “matt please- you were damn near crying i don’t wanna hear it.”

- avery’s note ˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆｡-

i love folklore. i AM folklore. anywayyy new blurb!!! im so happyyyy i finally finished ONE of my drafts 😭😭

wait omg i forgot to tag you @bluestriips ik you like guitarist!matt !!

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - @ellaapsworld @chrissv4mp @jetaimevous @mattsbrowser @submattenthusiast @flouvela @sturniolosiphone @chrislova @sophand4n4 @mattsfavoritestar @mattslolita @y3sterdaysproblem @strnilolover @cayleeuhithinknott

[simps-for-a-fictional-character]

House wardens walk in on you changing

Tw: slightly NSFW, established relationships, scaring in some parts, Suggestive content. You are refused to mc and no pronouns mostly

Riddle rosehearts

Riddle was coming to tell you that it was time for you to help him set up the unbirthday party for tonight. Yes he does tell others to do it, but he felt like spending time with you.

"MC-" he spoke as he opened the door. His face immediately flushed as red as his hair upon seeing your half naked body.

"I-im sorry!" He quickly leaves, slamming the door shut behind him and holding his face. He mumbled to himself about being an idiot. He completely forgot to knock! Though it would be a lie if he didn't think you were attractive in less clothing.

"Snap out of it, Riddle! Dont have those dirty thoughts about your lover! It's improper as house-warden!" He was blushing more and quickly walked away. Soon, you came out to see him sitting in the garden. You smiled and walked over and nudged him lovingly.

"Hey its alright it's not the first time you saw me like that riddle~"

All Riddle did was blush brightly. He was in for a teasing from his lover.

Leona kingscholar

Leona let out a loud yawn sitting up from the bed he and you shared. He looked beside him but you weren't there which was strange. He gets up and streched out.

"Herbivore?" He looked around and saw the closet was closed. He walked over and opened it. You were putting on one of his shirts. Leona blushed and snatched you up.

You tell him to put you down and your voice falls on deaf ears.

"Herbivore you can hide from me! I know you inside and out. So why are you so afraid of changing in front of me. It's not like someone else is gonna see it"

You huffed and rolled your eyes as leona put his hands on your thighs.

"And as punishment for hiding, I'm gonna cuddle you until the sun goes down!"

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul was signing contracts with students despite you not liking it. Azul had wondered where you had gone as you volunteered to work as a waitress at the mostro lounge.he quickly got up after telling his client he would be right back.

"Hey MC, the tables are-" he spoke as he walked into his room where you most likely were. When he looked, he froze, blushing. He was at a loss for words seeing your upper body fully exposed. He wanted to crawl into his octopus pot and die.

You smiled at him and put on your shirt uniform (if your a girl you also put on a strapless bra). You walked over and kissed azul on the nose and walked out to help jade with waiting tables.

Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim was wander the halls of ramshackle when he walked into your room without knocking.

"Hey MC Jamil wants to know what you want for lunch!" Kalim smiled happily not noticing you were half naked

You spoke out and told him what you wanted as you slipped your cargo pants on.

"Okay we will be at scarabia! And nice legs too MC!" and with that kalim left without saying another word.

You sat for a moment and giggled at how innocent and pure kalim is. Your so lucky to love someone like him

Vil Schoenheit

You being the lover of the most "beautiful" man ever he always was there to watch you change. He wanted to make sure your in a beautiful outfit when your with him.

"MC! You look amazing like that!" He yells whenever you put something of his on

You were used to him watching you strip your clothes and putting new ones on, as he never really done anything. He was really good at keeping his hands to himself. He always asked if he could touch you.

You smiled and did a small spin showing off the dress/tuxedo he made for you. How lucky you are to have the most handsome man in the world make beautiful clothing for you

Idia shroud

(His is a bit different)

One of the few times when idia leaves his room is when he needs to get his hoodie back from you. He knocked on the ramshackle dorms main door, and you opened it. You were wearing idias hoodie and no pants. The tips of his flaming hair turned pink, and you brought him inside.

"M-MC! W-WHY ARE YOU-"

You had cut idia off with a kiss and smiles. You like to tease idia when you could. He was red in the face. Of course, he looked away, embarrassed at the fact you had kissed him without warning. He was an Otaku! Not a romantic person.

"M-mc maybe you should put some pants o-on. I can see your underwear (panties if female)" you blushed and smiled before hugging him without a care in the world. You trusted idia. After all he was to afraid to even kiss you

Malleus Draconia

He knocked on your door and opened it. Of course you were still putting on your shirt but you didn't mind.

"Child of man, what would you like to eat for lunch?" He asked a small blush on his face. You answered [fav food] and he nods.

"Okay I'll let lilia know so he can start cooking it"

You quickly stopped malleus and said we could just order takeout. You really did not feel like getting sick again from lilias cooking.

"But child of man don't you love lilias cooking?"

You lied and told him you did but decided to just order fast food. Malleus nods slowly and looked at your phone

"Take out from where?"

And you handed him your phone to choose. Oh how this fae loved you deerly enough to play for everything if you would let him

[cynical-rain-frog]

"let you break my heart"

Summary: You and Albedo are happily dating but when Lumine shows up, things start to change.

Warnings: Super angsty, Nausea, Albedo is a red flag, cheating.

Authors notes: Not proof read. Im super sleep deprived and just felt like writing. I"m sorry for the bad writing I am completely new to this dont know how to write well. May or may not make a part 2

Word count: 750

_____________________________________________________________

When you first started your relationship with Albedo, you dropped everything to be as close to him as possible. You know you shouldn't build your entire life around a relationship with someone but being with Albedo felt different. It seemed like you and him were always going to be together. He was so attentive, so gentle, so loving. He remembered your favorite flowers and every moment spent with him felt like it filled every inch of you with happiness. You never got over your butterflies whenever his eyes gently fluttered up from his work to meet yours. You would sit next to him for hours, entertained only by the way his hair softly fell forward against his forehead, and listening to the soft scratching of paper against paper.

So when lumine appeared in his life, you were shaken up. Your first thought when you saw her was “oh god, she’s beautiful.” The way she talked to Albedo as if they had always been friends had you second guessing all your conversations with him. You noticed the subtle way he ignored you when he talked to her. The way his gaze lingered on her face when she smiled. Then comes the moment you replay over and over when you're up late at night. The light airy sound of her laugh rings through your ears as if she were right there. You look at albedo and follow his gaze…. Right to her lips. 

You swallow and notice your throat has gone dry. Your stomach is tying itself into knots and your face gets hot. Your voice cuts through as their conversation comes to a pause,” Excuse me.”, you address lumine,”Could I steal away my boyfriend for sec? I need to talk to him.” 

She looks slightly surprised at the word “boyfriend” but nonetheless she nods and Albedo walks with you over to a slightly secluded spot in his lab. Your heart is beating fast but you manage to speak.

 “Albedo. I want to talk to you before this becomes something bigger than it needs to be. I know this will sound kind of possessive and paranoid”,you ramble,” but I just need to let you know that l feel slightly uncomfortable with you talking to Lumine.”

Albedo’s eyes widen ever so slightly at your words. He pauses for a moment before speaking,”My apologies. I never meant to make you uncomfortable, but we are just talking. I don't see the problem in just having a conversation with her.

You immediately feel embarrassed and your face is burning up.”yeah, you're right. I’m just being paranoid. Sorry.”

You wish you could say that day was the first and last time you felt this way but no; over the next few weeks you would often find Albedo already conversing with Lumine upon your arrival to his lab, or see them up in the mountains together. When questioned, Albedo responded with, “I was testing out a hypothesis with some experiments and Lumine was just assisting.” 

You tried to believe him but it was hard not to notice him not calling you your usual pet names whenever she was around. Or the way he seemed less and less interested in your conversations.

It all came to a climax on one particularly cold afternoon, when you had received word via Sucrose that Albedo would be working late tonight. To take your mind off of recent events you decided to go to the Angel share tavern that night. As you stepped into the tavern you looked around to find an open table but were surprised to see Albedo sitting in a booth in the corner of the room.

“I guess he got off work early!” You thought to yourself

 You were excited for a chance to talk to him without Lumine there and were about to call out to him but instead you froze when you saw what was happening. He was sitting next to someone. That someone was Lumine. They were kissing.

 Your body started shaking as soon as the realization set in. You felt nauseous, very very nauseous. The stress that you had felt recently all came flooding into you at once and you lost your footing. The floor was coming up fast and as you hit the floor you heard someone screaming. It was loud and guttural and it wouldn't stop. That's when you realized it was you screaming. You finally ran out of air from screaming your lungs out and soon lost consciousness.

______________________________________________________________

Should I make a part two??? I kinda wanna make this a happy ending... maybe with another character??? idk... Hope you enjoyed!

[chaosisalwayscrying]

PLSPLS write about chris spoiling his gf

SPOILED

⇥ synopsis : chris loves spoiling his girl

⇥ warnings : none! just fluff all around

⇥ extra : my first request!! i rewrote this a lot, im still not sure how i feel about it. i hope i do your request justice anon, tysm for the support 🫶🏻

⇥ masterlist !

⇥ taglist !

chris loved nothing more than spoiling his girl, even though you protested every single time. he loved the way your lips turned into a pout and your eyebrows furrowed. he loved the way you huffed and puffed as he slid his card into the reader before you had the chance. he loved the way he had to carry your bags for you, despite how much complaining he does.

—————

chris had taken you out on one of his "suprise dates", something he did when he could tell you were stressed or drained. it was an excuse to get you out of the house and do things you love.

as matt dropped you and chris off at the mall, a smile spread on your face. your boyfriend was eager to drag you to shops you liked, and even more eager to watch you try stuff on.

"come on ma, you like this one right?" he asked, dragging you towards a small boutique.

you laugh at him, not resisting his actions. he finally lets you go as you enter, and you browse around, picking up a few things to try on. once you manage to flag chris down, all you have to do is tell him to sit in one of the chairs outside the dressing rooms. he was practically vibrating in his seat as he waited for you to try on what you picked out.

    chris was nothing short of amazing, he was constantly complimenting you as you showed him each piece of clothing. once you had decided what to buy, you handed it off to chris to hold as you got dressed again, hoping he’d stay put like you asked instead of running off to the checkout to buy the clothes for you.

    however, you weren’t that surprised when you open the dressing room door to find chris gone. when you turned the corner, you spotted him eagerly talking to the obviously less eager cashier as he bought your clothes. you made your way over there with a pout on your face, only getting to chris when he turned to find you.

    "there you are! i bought your clothes for you, i even put in your rewards card thing, i know you like getting the points and stuff." he rambled as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the store, either not noticing or ignoring your obvious pout.

    "thanks chris, but you know you dont have to spend so much on me. i couldve bought it myself!" you huff, despite your hwart swelling at his actions. your ‘anger’ had become a running bit in your relationship, and it made you happy that chris wasn’t sick of it.

    "i know, but you know i love spoiling you. you deserve it, you put up with me and you help out me, matt, and nick with filming so much that i have to pay you back somehow!" he says, smiling that always bright smile at you as he gave the same reasons he always does.

    "fine, i guess its fine" you say, trying to keep from smiling back at him as you roll your eyes and keep up the facade.

    of course, chris notices immediately, a grin still on his face as he huffs back at you. "c’mon ma, dont be like that. you know you love it" he teases, nudging your shoulder with his arm.

    "fine, fine, i give up. you make it hard to be fake mad at you, you know?" you say, rolling your eyes at him as you smile. all chris does in return is lean down to press a kiss to your temple and keep pulling you along to stores.

and since chris went and bought mostly everything you planned to buy, he was also forced to carry all the bags. of course he whined the whole time, but you sinply told him that since he bought it, he has to carry it. all you ended up carrying was a small sephora bag with a lipgloss and highlighter in it that you managed to sneak by chris to get.

“why do i have to carry the bags? it’s your stuff!” chris whined, huffing and puffing like the few bags he had weighed a hundred pounds each.

“you bought them, not me. buyer carries the bags” you say, smiling at his overdramatic distress. “if you stop whining we can make cookies tonight” you hum, letting out a small laugh at how quickly he straightened up.

while you and chris waited on matt to come get you, he eagerly listed off all the cookies he knew that you could make, what movies you could watch after, and got sidetracked talking about filming this weeks videos while asking if you wanted to film it for his channel.

⇥ TAGS !

@sturnioloshacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @hertvgirl @cupidzsq @sturnnie @leah-loves-lilies

[stovetoast]

pillow tpot headcanons (long ramble expanding on the ocd part under the cut)

ok so first warning: i am not a psychiatrist. this isnt a super educated essay on ocd, just me projecting my lived experience onto an object show character. this is just an observation. if i get something wrong feel free to correct me, ill add it here. (its also worth noting i am self diagnosed. not "quick google search" self dx though, ive gone over it with a therapist and everything)

and that leads into the second warning: this ramble will get a tad bit personal sorryyyy

and finally the third warning: i put she/it on the ref but im just using she/her for simplicity (+ i forgot LOL(

anyway so yeah i think that pillow has ocd and is basically the embodiment of "letting intrusive thoughts win" except like. actually. this headcanon didnt stem from the killing or the strange impulses though, i think she has it because of her fixation on good and bad luck in tpot 10.

for me it manifests in a few different ways. my main one is counting—i have good luck numbers and bad luck numbers. i need to take a specific number of snacks every time i have a bowl of them. i have to shake medicine bottles a certain amount of times before taking them. i am always counting the "syllables" of whatever im doing, and it always has to land on a multiple/factor of my lucky number. and if i break any of this, i (generally, if i cant convince myself its fine or if i dont notice) have to count to my lucky number otherwise something bad will happen. hell, i added more flags to this ref because the number of them was my unlucky number.

i have a few other things that affect it that are completely unrelated to counting, though. like a particularly bad one is that i straight up cant wear certain articles or clothing anymore because theyre bad luck. or my ungodly long night routine (which is probably more of an autism thing tbh. but certain parts of it are absolutely influenced by the ocd, like having to say goodnight to my dog).

that ^^ is what i saw in pillow. she was distraught that her team lost in 9, because not only did she think she was doing the challenge right, but killing people (bringing death) was good luck for her.

i think her killing people was a compulsion, and her whole thing in 10 was her scrambling to find a new one after that stopped working.

and before anyone tries to be all like "oh thats fucked up why would they portray ocd like that," one: i dont think this was on purpose this was just an observation, two: i mean..... fuck dude if i lived in a world where revival was incredibly accessible and one of my compulsions were to kill people, id do the same thing. death is fairly normal in bfdi, to the point everyone literally has a kill count on the fandom wiki (hers is 13 as of tpot 11 btw, a commonly unlucky number ironically enough. if she gets eliminated in 12 with an unlucky kill count thatd be so funny). once they get past the pain, its. really just an inconvenience to them.

when it comes to ocd, you. HAVE to do these things. its not a choice until you can get some outside help with it, and oftentimes its an inconvenience to those around you. i dont think its right for her to be going around killing her team, but when i get past the fact that is literally what made her my favorite, i get where shes coming from. shes trying to help in a way she "knows" will work.

or maybe shes just silly idk

[iouinotes]

Beautiful Boy | Alex Walter

pairing: Alex Walter x female!reader

show: My life with the Walter Boys

warnings: mostly fluff and love confessions, but a bit of implied sexual activities

word count: 4,6k

summary: You are completely in love with your best friend. When the chance is given, you decide to finally take it and show your love.

a/n: The story will mention a review from the past, where they play truth or dare. So, I was inspired to write that scenario: match made in heaven is here!

He's everything I ever wished for. It´s silly, thinking about it, really. My ongoing crush for him since the first time I met him all these years ago.

It was during the first day after the winter holiday. It was dark outside, very cold and rainy weather. Well, unfortunately it did not look like that in the morning, so I instantly panicked after school, because I forgot to bring my jacket. Normally one of my friends picked me up after school and drove me home, but she was sick today and I heard about her being ill, last minute.

So now I´m standing in the hallway, debating if I should better start to go to the bus station (probably getting soaked) or if I just walk to the school library, hoping that the weather cools down. I was drowning in my own thoughts, when I first heard his voice.

"Are you okay?" The second my eyes landed on him, I was gone for good. Because the boy in front of me was utterly beautiful. Handsome round face, freckles, warm brown eyes and a shy smile. One look at him and I fell in love with his beauty. Little did I know, I would soon fall head over heals for his personality or the way his voice sounds when he is making fun of me, because I believe in love at first sight. How could I not, when I have met him?

He was very caring the first time we met. Even though I was embarrassed of my situation, he made me feel comfortable. When I told him about my difficulty, he instantly helped me out. He told me, that his brother also picked him up from school every day, so it wouldnt be a problem, if I came along. Not only this sweet gesture made me speechless, it was also the way he stripped out of his jacket and gave it to me without hesitation, when we went outside and he saw that I didnt bring a jacket.

"What? No, I can´t-" I tried to argue, but one blink of his lashes, one look at his eyes, was enough to keep me occupied. "My mom would kill me, if I didnt. It´s okay, I dont mind." He really was the sweetest. His jacket kept in fact, keep me warm. And it also smelled like him, thats what made me blush in the end. I didnt know, if he noticed me looking at him from time to time (but then again, he nowadays didnt noticed it either), but I could not contain myself.

He was a gentleman, shy and adorable. He was all I wished for in a guy. When his brother - who I idetified as the most popular guy of our school- Cole, came in sight, only then it clicked. The boy in front of me, with his nervous smile, was Alex Walter.

When the car parked and the headlights were visible in the rain, we quickly ran to the blue vehicle. His brother didnt talk much, so the car ride was mostly quiet, my eyes were out the window and my thoughts were on Alex previous gesture of holding the door open for me. He didnt intend for me to fall in love with him, but I couldnt think of anything else to do, better than exactly that.

"I didnt get your name?" was all he said, when the car stopped in front of my house. "Oh right, sorry. Im y/n." He smiled again at me and my heart wanted to jump out off my chest. I didnt really notice Cole in the front and his famous "Cole effect". I was all catched up, by the beautiful boy next to me.

"Alex" he shook my hand and it made me giggle. I saw his ears turning pink at my laughter, so I smiled at him, so he knew I wasnt making fun of him. He relaxed then, but much to my dislike the blonde brother spoke up, before I could say something else. "I dont have all day, so are you two done looking at each other or can you go now? I swear, I saw y´all nearly kiss." At that, I was the one who turned red. "Sorry, thanks for the ride and-" as I wanted to strip off the jacket, Alex stopped my movements. "Oh no, you can have it. I mean- it´s still raining outside, I-I dont want you to get sick." Maybe I was already at that exact moment, falling in love with him. I also think, that his words made my cheeks turn a shade of red, that wasnt even on a scala anymore, because it was so high.

"But when do I give it back to you?" The last thing I wanted to do, was crossing a line with the Walter brothers. And maybe I also hoped to see him again. "Tomorrow? I will be in the gaming room in third grade. If thats okay with you?" He spoke quickly, because Cole kept getting more annoyed. "No, its fine. Thank you, Alex." I kissed him on the cheek (dont know where that one came from) and before I could look back, I was already out of the car and running towards the house. When I opened the door and the warmth embraced me, I looked out of the window from my house. The car was already gone, but I remember smiling so bright, I almost could not contain the happy feeling that consumed me.

That was the first time, my diary heard of Alex Walter.

The next day, I searched through three gaming rooms before I finally found him, starring at his laptop. As soon as I tapped him gently on the shoulder, he turned around and looked at me suprised. When he asked me, if I had had any trouble finding him, I said "what no, it took five minutes", when in reality it took 20 minutes, but he sounded really sincere, so it didnt matter.

That was the start of our ever-lasting friendship. We became best friends quickly and are verly close ever since, he is my other half. We are always together, in the hallway, at lunch, we see each other at the weekends and we even got the price "the best of best friends" by our friendgroup. I mean it was funny and its nice, really. But it says everything. We are just friends.

It´s very funny actually, because he knows me better than anyone and I can´t keep one secret from him. He just knows, when something is up. But my biggest secret of all time, that was the part where he was clueless about.

My love for him.

He just doesnt notice and I tried to not show it, but everyone knows I like him. Well, expect for him. When I look at him too long, because I (again) got lost in his eyes or looked a second too long at his lips, while he talked, he thinks he has something on his face. When I compliment him, for literal anything, he thinks I make fun of him, so he doesn't take it seriously. And I tried almost everything, so he could finally notice. Maybe then he could make the first move.

I once talked about my ideal type, because it was a truth or dare on my birthday party and I literally described him - he didnt notice. I swoon on a daily basis over his beauty, his intelligence , his personality, his habits, his cute flaws like staying up all night to play a video game - he doesnt know. I tried to learn his favorite video game, I read the Lord of the Rings saga, I even watched baseball games with him, I do anything so he will notice, how much I care about him. But he just doesn't get it.

If I would know, he simply didnt like me that way, I could somehow cope with that. But then, there are moments, where I would catch him starring at me, where he seems to be the one wanting me. He watches romantic movies with me and lets me cry about it after, when I´m sad about the ending, Sometimes I even get to lay on his chest. He listens when I talk about my newest book obsession, he goes shopping with me, even though he hates it. He helps me studying and I can tell him anything, he´s always there for me.

So it could be, that maybe my feelings were not completely unrequited. But then again, why didnt he made a move by now? Nevertheless, it keeps me awake at night. Because I want nothing more than to kiss his soft lips, feel his skin against mine, to look at his eyes and study every single freckle from his neck to his forehead. I want to love him. In a way, he knows it.

These feelings, these thoughts are constantly in my head. Especially now, when I sit across him and simply look at his concentrated face. His eyebrows are drawn together, he´s currently biting on his bottom lip, his nose scrunched in a frown. The light of his room shows me every little detail of his face. In moments like this, on a friday evening, where we study together for a biology test, I wish he would know how I feel about him. Because it would make everything so much easier.

Its currently raining outside, a remember of our first encounter, the clouds are dark and I hear loud thunder since the last couple of minutes went by. "Do you think, it will get better? The weather clearly looks bad." I shift my gaze to look at him and when I catch him starring at me, my heart swells in my chest.

I want to break the distant between us and close the gap of our lips. Want to get to know every little detail of his body. But as he speaks up, I clear my head. "I dont know, Danny said something about a storm. I honestly didnt know, it would be that bad." He closes his textbook and stands up, looking out the window. ,,Should I go?" My question suprises him. "Now? I think if you take a step outside, you will get swept up by your feet. It´s not safe." He looks at me unwary. "I dont know, I always wanted to fly. Maybe thats a sign." I grin at him and he laughs quietly. "Yeah, of course. Let me ask my dad, what he thinks is for the best. Maybe he can get you an umbrella and you do your best Mary Poppins impression."

~~~~~~

30 minutes later I find myself in a full-on Walter-family-disscussion. "But uncle! I dont get to have girls stay overnight. Thats unfair!" Lee is looking at George, unable to hide his jealousy. "When did a girl ever wanted to stay overnight with you?" Isaac asks from across the table. Lee just ignores him, an angry look in his eyes.

"Look, its nothing that I will allow forever. But right now, she cant go home, so she is welcomed to stay here." I smile at him, thankful that I´m not getting thrown out. "Also, she is like a thirteen family member. She´s practically living here." George added. One look at Alex and I wanted to know what he was thinking. Was I just like a sister to him? "Okay enough of that. Y/n, dear you are welcome to stay the night. We will figure it out. Nathan is staying with Skylar, so his bed is free." I´m glad, Katherine is here. I thank her and George and by the time, we ate dinner and Alex got me a toothbrush, so I could get ready for bed, it was late after 11.

As I make my way back to Alex's room after using the bathroom to change into my clothes, leaving me with shorts and a shirt, Cole is suddenly standing next to me. "Well, what a great opportunity for you." He grins at me. At his comment, I am visible confused. "What do you mean?" I look up to his smiling figure. "You have him all by yourself, of course. Your chance to finally do something. I can´t stand it anymore, you like him and he likes you. I always thought you were the clever one out of you two, so please put everyone out of this misery and kiss him, because he´s a complete idiot. It's long overdue for you two to get together."

His words leave me stunned. After he´s done talking, he makes his way silently back to his own room and I´m still standing in the hallway, trying to process his words. Kiss him. He likes you. Does Alex really likes me or is that some cruel joke for Cole? I hope not. Because my friends have told me several times, that they think, Alex likes me too. But I always thought, they were wrong.

My heart is heavily pounding as I make my way back to his room, taking a deep breath as I open the door. Alex is playing a video game, as always, but I see that he also changed into something more comfortable. It helps me calm down my nerves, when I see him doing something, he always does. I take a few steps towards his chair and his concentrated figure.

I mean, what was there in life, if I didnt take any risks? If he likes me back, it could be the answer to all my dreams and if not - well, the weather was still going pretty bad and could help me out of the awkward situation.

When I decided to test their he-likes-you-too-theory, I quickly came up with a plan. Okay, so I wasnt the best at flirting, that was for sure, but I could make a move. For starters, I wanted something, I often thought about.

As I stand behind him, I trace my fingers along his shoulders, hearing his surprised breath, that he quickly tries to hide. Well too bad, I heard it.

"Alex?" My voice is quiet.

"...yes?" I can see his muscles tense, while I keep touching his shoulders, going lower until I touch his arm. Something about what Cole said, about Alex liking me, gives me a certain confidence, that wasnt there before. Please dont let the King of hooking up be wrong.

"Could I borrow one of your hoodies? I´m freezing and only have my shirt." I try not to think about the possibility that he laughs in my face and says no. But then again, I know that Alex wouldnt do that. "I-uh, yeah. You can, um, grab one out of my closet." I smile to myself, when I see his eyes nervously scanning the display. He paused the game, even though he doesnt look at me while he talks.

"Thanks." As I turn towards his closet, I get the feeling that he´s secretly watching me choose a hoodie. When I get a hold on a dark green one, I immediately know its the one from when we first met. I take it and walk towards the other bed, getting a glimpse of his eyes, that continue to follow me. And then I do something, I thought I would never do in front of him. I change out of my top, the cold air hitting my skin and I hear him gasps.

When I change into his hoodie, a settling warmth embraces me. I smile to myself, a joy blooms in my chest, the feeling of wearing his clothes, makes me feel too good to be true. The shorts I´m wearing are the same ones as before and I think, that I kinda like the casual look. And maybe it looks fine, that could be a good way to get Alex attention. My shorts cover my thighs, but because his hoodie is bigger than what I normally wear, this way it looks like I only wear his hoodie.

When I turn around and fix my hair, he already started another game again. Okay, mission getting-some-sort-of-reaction, is starting to get interesting. "Soo, what do you think? Too big?" I wait for his reaction. When he slowly turns around, one hand holding up his headphones, I see him trying not to stare too hard. But since I see his eyes scanning my body, it´s impossible for him to pretend. I smile to myself.

"And?" I make a step in his direction, watching him swallow. His eyes wander to the floor and a nervous expression crosses his face. "I- I need to finish this game so-" he turns around so fast, I´m almost surprised his neck didnt broke. Shit. That wasnt part of the plan. I glance around the room, trying to come up with something, another way to keep his attention at me. I sit on his bed, near his computer and decide to watch him play. I hear the sound of the game playing in the background, while I continue to think of a way for him to notice me.

And even though I keep my hands to myself, I see him sqirming in his seat. I laugh quietly. "Everything okay?" it seems he isnt that concentrated anymore. "Yeah, uh, are you bored? You never watch me play." His head turns to look at me. "You could teach me some moves." I say, looking at him and then the game, that shows a spider attacking some creature. He raises his eyebrows at my words.

"You sure? I thought you didnt like video games." My eyes wander to his lap as I quickly come up with a plan. "Maybe I will like it, if you show me some tricks. And also, I like you and you´re really interested in gaming, so I thought I could make an effort." His cheeks are blushing, my eyes are starring at his clueless ones.

A smile tucks at his lips, but he tries to keep his cool. "I mean, I´m really good at this, so I could teach you one or two lessons. Where do you want to sit? I only have one gaming chair, but-" he glances around the room, trying to come up with something.

"Well, we could share?" I ask, my voice sounding sincere and not as much thrilled at the idea, to sit in his lap, even though I am freaking out in my thoughts. His eyes widen, when he realizes what I just said.

"You want to-" he doesn't finish his sentence, stuttering at the idea of me sitting on his lap. "If thats okay with you, of course? I think its the best solution, I mean I do want the full experience. So its fair." I see him nervously licking his lips. "Yeah, yeah. I get that. Okay, cool, how do you want to-" I smile at him and his nervous speech. "Just relax, I dont bite. You do know that, right?" I laugh when I see his ears turning pink.

"Right. So uh, come here, I guess?" He puts his arms on the armrests to give me good access and I feel myself getting nervous. God, I never got to be this close to him. I stand up, his eyes take my form in his sweater in, I see him starring at the naked skin. And when I see something shining in his hair, I act without a second thought.

"You have something in your hair, dummy." It's a little paper ball from Benny, probably from the previous dinner (fight), I lean myself down, facing him forward in his lap and cross my legs over his thighs. I don't notice what position we are in until I lean back to show him the piece of paper and suddenly, I'm just a few centimeters from his face. Shocked by the less to no space we have left between us, he doesn't speak and neither do I. We just look at each other.

"i-i got it." The words leave my mouth, the distance between our faces -god his lips look so soft- leaves me speechless. It takes him a moment, but when he answers he sounds just as out of breath as me.

"thanks."

Again, we sit in silence. Suddenly I loose my balance and I almost fall out of the chair, but his arms are quick to catch me. So now, he has his arms around my waist and my arms linger around his shoulders for support. If I would lean closer, I could kiss him.

The thought of kissing him, makes me sqirm and when he lays his hands onto my waist to still my movements, I feel dizzy. Because Im not just sitting on his legs. Indeed, I sit literally on his lap. So when I feel myself getting wet, because he makes me so touch starved, I completely loose my mind.

"Im sorry- i didnt mean to sit that way. I just-" his eyes are so fascinating, brown, green and warm. It feels like he´s looking at my soul. He´s watching my every move. I know I should probably get up, but its the first time, he is that close to me and I cant stop looking at him.

Without a thought in my head, I raise my hand and touch his cheek. I see his lips breaking apart, so he can draw a surprised breath. "You have so many freckles everywhere." My eyes wander around his face. His voice comes back to life for a second, but only to sign. "Too many, actually." I draw my eyebrows together.

"It suits you and it´s not too much. Thats a perfectly fine amount of freckles. Look-" I start to count them. Each and every one. Starting from his ears towards his cheeks, his nose, further down until I stop at his lips. "You have one right above the corner of your mouth." I mutter, my thumb brushes his lips for a second.

Caught, my eyes sneak back to search his gaze. But he just looks at me. My heart feels like it could break any second, if I dont open my mouth to say something.

"You are" I begin to say "so beautiful to me. Every freckle you have, the colour of your eyes, your hair, your lips, your voice, just you."

I cant hold back anymore.

"i-i love you, Alex. I really do. I thought it would just be a crush that would go away, when time goes on, but it hasnt. You´re in every piece of my heart, you hold it together. You are my joy, my laugh, my sadness, you were everything for me, the first second I got to know you. Because you are the best person in my life, my best friend, my other half, my partner in crime, I would bail you out of jail in a heartbeat. Without you, my heart wouldn't beat anymore anyway. Because you make it live. Every day, every time I see you. Maybe if I would have known better, I would have never agreed to take your jacket, the first time we met. If I would have known, how absolutely in love I would get with you, it would have scared me to death. But now? Now I know better than to be away from you, because I better live as your best friend than without having you in my life. Because now, being away from you would be my death."

In one second, I bail my heart out and before I know it, he takes my face in his hands and leans forward. He stops his movement right before our lips touch.

"I think you will be the death of me too, sweetheart."

And with that, he kisses me.

Slow at first, his lips touch mine, so very soft and gentle. I almost think I´m dreaming, because his lips do feel like a dream to me. His hands caress my back and I clutch to his shoulders, afraid the moment will end. His warm hands strive back to my cheeks, tilding my head in a way he can have more access.

And I let him, mainly because I´m too caught up with this emotion and also because I would let him do anything with me. My hands are in his dark hair, gently tugging at his strings, so I get to hear that little breathless sound he makes, that makes my heart flutter.

I sink in his warm embrace, moving my lips with the same rhythm as him, hearing my heartbeat in my ears. His right hand goes to the back of my neck and this action makes me weak in the knees. And he notices it. Gently he breaks apart, leaving me with the want to have more of him and when I open my eyes - I didnt know I closed them - he looks at me, like I´m the sun and he´s the moon, that was away for too long.

"God, you´re so beautiful." His voice is deep, I can hear him catch his breath. His words make my heart ache until I think it isnt able to comprehend his compliment. I feel his lips again, my eyes flutter at the contact. One hand around my hip, holding me steady and the other one, around my neck, making me unsteady.

"alex-" a moan wants to escape me, but I try to hold myself together. His lips leave my mouth and trail further down, finding a spot at the curve of my neck.

"god, yes. Say my name again." I´m pretty sure, I never wanted him more than now.

My hands linger in his hair, I feel his hot breath on my skin and clench my thighs together. He is making me feel all worked up. As his lips leave that spot, I whimper his name, but as soon as his mouth leaves my body, he reconnects with it.

Brushing my hair aside, he kisses me again for a second before he lets go of me. With that, im completely convinced he hates me, the way he´s making me suffer. I hear him quietly laugh, so I slowly open my eyes to watch his face.

"You look drunk on love. Are you alright?" He smiles at me, looking at me, like he didnt just turn my world up site down (and my panties wet, by the way).

"What?" I ask, catching my breath. His skin glows and as I watch every detail of his face (how could I not), I almost miss his next sentence. "I would have never thought that this was your idea of gaming." I feel his shoulders move, when he tries to keep himself from laughing.

I gently smile and roll my eyes. "You are just too handsome for me, to concentrate on anything other than you." His cheeks turn red and there´s a glimmer in his eyes, that makes me feel completed. "So that´s why you have bad grades in math, maybe I shouldnt be sitting next to you then." His joke makes me laugh.

"Well, maybe you can give me some private lessons, so I could improve." At that, he opens his mouth, but no words are said. "Too stunned to speak?" I lean forward, his eyes follow my lips. "You just never flirted with me, its distracting." He looks up.

I just shake my head. One of my hands sneaks around to linger at his cheek. "Oh, trust me. I have. You just never noticed." His eyebrows rise. "Thats a shame. But I guess I have now." He catches my lips.

Yes, he definitely did notice me now.

[cy-cyborg]

I'm getting a little tierd of the idea because amputees get more representation in media, it means rep for our disability is better and we "have enough"

People are right, we do have way more rep than really any other disability, im not going to deny that, and ive joked before about how often people write amputees without even realising it. So you would think, by sheer numbers, we should have at least some good representation, but by-and-large that is not the case. Legitimatly, the closest example I can think of to point to of good amputee rep is Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood and even that uses multiple tropes I hate (the miracle cure/quest for the miracle cure, the almost perfect prosthetic replacement/forgetting the chatacter is an amputee until it breaks or needs repairs, refusal to call prosthetics, "prosthetics" (automail), the amputee who can't do anything without a prosthetic) and they call Ed a slur for another disability (m*dget) CONSTANTLY. I love fmab deeply, it legitimatly helped me feel seen and represented as a childhood amputee in a way no other show has even come close to, and when it gets it right, it gets it really right, but it's also very far from great and should not be the best example I can think of. Especially nearly 15 years after it released...

A big part of the reason why I don't read many books anymore is because of the sheer amount of books with downright offensively bad amputee rep, some of which were touted as good by people with other disabilities and were recommended to me as good examples. others times, I wasn't even looking for books with amputee/disability rep, it just popped up. It has ruined one of my childhood hobbies for me. Ive tried to get back into reading again as an adult but it hasn't gotten better in that time i was away. I was kicked out of 3 different scifi writing groups on facebook and reddit for asking people to remember "cybernetic enhancement" users are amputees - a real group of people, and maybe debating weather or not we're less human isnt great, and for pointing out seeing those discussions every day was making me feel pretty unwelcome in that space (yes i know, "real" cyberpunk isnt trying to say that, i had to turn notifications off on my post about the topic, it doesnt change the fact that newer creators in the genre dont seem to get that bit, that ive seen cyberpunk writers in these spaces say that debating weather people who loose more parts of their body were less human was, in fact, their intent but they hadnt even considered the fact this made their chatacters amputees, it doesnt change the fact that these tropes, intentionally or not, help make those spaces hostile for disabled fans/creators, especially amputees).

But yeah, I should be thankful I get more rep than other disabilities, no matter the quality, right?

It doesn't just stop at being me being made uncomfortable, though. The sheer, overwhelming amount of amputee chatacters with "perfect prosthetics" has had a noticeable impact on how we are perceived irl. In my lifetime, the general idea people have about multi-limbed amputees in particular has gone from "literally the worst thing that can happen to a person and the worst disability to have" to "is it even a disability? The prosthetic fixes it". These are both wildly untrue and harmful ideas about my disability that were both perpetuated by media, but now that the second one is taking root, it's causing real problems. I have not been shy in talking about how I have to fight to maintain my NDIS funding every time I get something done with my prosthetics, and had to get my prosthetist to sign off, twice, that my fancy prosthetic knee that costs the same as a higher-end new car ($125,000 AUD) is not, in fact a cure and I still need help with other things. It took me nearly 2 years to get a new wheelchair because they didn't understand why I needed it if I had the prosthetics - which to be honest, is not comfortable for me to wear, let alone use all day every day. Guys this isn't just assholes on the street or on twitter saying dumb shit, it's the people in the government body who decide how much funding I get to help with my disability who beleive it. People who have very real control over my life. It's not entirely the media's fault, but when the sheer, overwhelming majority of representation for people like me confirms that belief, it's hard to ignore the possibility that these portrayals are contributing to it, you know?

Which makes it so frustrating when I come on here and see other disability writing advice blogs saying to not write amputees because they have so much representation already. We do, I can acknowledge that, but the vast, vast majority of it is shit, and no one, not even other disabled people, are listening to us about it. And what makes it even worse, is the people they're advising to not writing amputees are the creators who care enough to be doing the research. They're the ones willing to listen, to ask questions. They could be the start of the positive change. But instead they're advised to not even bother with us.

And don't get me wrong, other disabilities ARE under-represented. There are so many disabilities, including some I have myself, that I've never seen represented as anything other than the butt of a joke. There does need to be more reprentation of disabilities other than amputation and limb differences. 100%! but can you please talk about that without saying "amputees have enough"

This isn't even touching on how amputees/people with limb differences who dont/cant use prosthetics, or even folks who use prosthetics sometimes but not others, are almost never represented unless it's for pitty-porn, or how the non-fictional media's (news outlets, etc) portrayal of amputees in particular is used to justify hurting very real, very vunderable people but this rant is long enough and honestly, ive got enough thoughts to make whole other posts on those subjects. That second one in particular deserves its own (more thought-out) spotlight and shouldn't be a footnote in a frustrated rant post lol.

[strawberries-and-summer-days]

LOVE TO HATE YOU ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

pairing: percy jackson x demeter!fem!reader

warnings: swearing + minor violence (punches basically)

a/n: i wanted to write some percy jackson enemies to lovers (sorta) so here we are!! i don't know how i feel about this one but enjoy! (also im changing the layout of my fics - in case you couldn't already tell :))

look.

when percy showed up for sword training this morning, the last thing he was expecting was to be paired with you.

i mean hey! at least he could take his anger out on you and nobody would notice or care for that matter - well y'know... except you.

being thrown on you ass for the fifteenth time in a row really wasn't on your agenda for today. and you'd had enough.

"goddamnit jackson!" you yell when you get up again. "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"right back at you y/l/n!" percy hisses.

seething you narrow your eyes at him. "i swear to fucking god, i'm going to kick your ass."

"right, cause you seem to be doing really well at that."

you launch at percy. why? why is he like this? why is he popular and nice to everybody but you? why?? why is he infuriatingly handsome? from his soft looking hair, to his blue-green eyes- wait, what?

where'd that come from?

you're supposed to be angry at him.

your fist connects with percy's jaw and he stumbles back in shock. his eyes land on you in a deadly promise as he flys at you himself.

"you're honestly so annoying, i don't know how i put up with you," he sends a punch to your face and your head snaps back, your eyes filling with tears. fucking hell.

arms wrap around you then, pulling you back from attacking percy more. you swing your arm back accidentally knocking the person in the face causing them to cry out. "oh shit! im so sorry!" you exclaim turning around to comfort annabeth.

"fuck annabeth, im so sorry."

you're a child of demeter, the most violent thoughts you've had all week is how you accidentally made a strawberry explode. you shouldn't be thinking about how the next time percy comes near you, you're going to strangle him with the nearest vine. no, scratch that you're going to strangle him reguardless.

you crouch down next to annabeth worry in you eyes, "are you okay?"

annabeth nods and takes your hand when you offer to help her up. "i'm fine, but you two," she says waving a hand between percy - whose still pissed by the way - and you. "need to sort out whatever shit you're fighting over."

percy looks over at you a scowl etched on his face and his arm still captured by luke. "yeah fine whatever." he throws his sword down on the ground before stalking away growling about how everything's going to shit.

"what is with him today?" luke asks walking over and picking up percy's sword.

"i don't know!" you huff exasperated. "he's been like this all morning. i was the one on the receiving end of it!"

"well i'm like ninety percent sure punching him wasn't the best way to go about that," luke says still watching percy walk away.

"well you try being kicked on your ass fifteen times in a row," you snap shoving past grover. a little part of you is sorry for how you're treating them but honestly you're so sick of the way percy treats you.

the way he's kind and caring to everyone else but you. the way he always calls you names and groans whenever you're paired up. the way he rolls his eyes whenever you talk never bothering to listen.

it pisses you off how he's attentive to other campers, how he has the prettiest smile and looks amazing in that navy shir- woah woah woah what?

nope, you're not even going to think about that. about the crush you've had on him ever since he arrived at camp. you two had gotten along for the first few days and then, boom, he's hated you ever since.

you dont even know what you did to make him suddenly hate you. but deep down, you've always had a feeling that maybe he knows about your feelings - though you've never, ever, said anything about them - and they repulse him. so to cover that up you've gone right ahead and hated him - for the most part - back.

you slam the door shut of your cabin and flop onto your bed groaning loudly into your pillow. mostly out of annoyance a little out of actual pain. you slowly start to drift off then only realising you've fallen asleep when your sibling gently shakes you awake.

"y/n? its dinner time."

you groan softly and thank the girl for waking you before making your way to the mess hall laughing at the jokes your siblings are making, and feeling much calmer - and not violent.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

there are perks to living in a cabin all by yourself. percy found this out a few weeks after tyson had left - yes he misses tyson - but having a cabin to freely scream into a pillow, was pretty neat as well.

gods percy hated y/n sometimes.

she was the most annoying, know-it-all, shrill, person ever. like seriously how is she so talented at annoying him? its like a god given gift.

whipping his pillow back onto his bed percy sinks down onto the mattress feeling it dip with his weight. he hated how he reacted earlier.

did he seriously fucking punch you? did he actually punch a girl? anybody's mom would be disappointed in them if they found out their son punched a girl, but sally jackson? you'd have to come up with a whole new word for what she'd feel.

gods he was stupid.

he fucking punched a girl.

even worse he punched y/n.

the first thing he did then was pick up a discarded drachma and send an iris message to his mom.

when sally turned around to see percy, her face changed instantly from excited to be getting a call to worry.

"percy? whats wrong?"

"i fucked up mom."

"language," his mom scolded. "but how did you mess up?"

percy hesitated not wanting to tell his mom that he hit a girl. "i hurt y/n."

"y/n?" sally's eyes flash with surprise. over the years she'd heard of the infamous y/n. percy would always complain about her, or just talk about her. but no matter the time he'd always bring her up in a conversation - i mean sure most of the time he was whining about how she'd pissed him off, but he'd still talk about her.

"yeah, i- i don't know what to do."

sally's eyes soften, when she sees the way percy is distressed. "you could apologise?"

percy looks down and runs his hands through his hair. "i don't think she'd believe me, mom."

"it's always better to try, i'm sure even though she might not show it, y/n would appreciate it." she purses her lips trying to hide a smile as she thought of what to say next. "besides i thought we didn't like y/n."

percy's head snaps up and he shrugs. "we don't... not like her," he starts. "we- i- i just hated the way she fit into camp, when i first came here. she was like their perfect camper, she even went to the lenghts of being nice to me! but i just, ugh." percy sighs. "it was always so hard for me to see her being so comfortable with everyone, she's only been at camp for like three weeks more than me and she was already practically ruling the place!"

he stands up starting to pace the room as sally sits patiently listening to him. "and then i iced her out and started treating her like shit - i know, sorry about the swearing - and she started acting the same way towards me so there was no way i could just- uh." he runs his hands through his hair for like the millionth time. "i just messed up. and now whenever i talk to her i can practically feel her dislike towards me."

sally is quiet for a moment and when she does finally speak, she says something that percy didn't expect. "do you like her?"

"i- what?" his bewildered expression facing sally.

"do you like y/n?"

a frown crease percy's forehead, and just as he's about to answer the door to his cabin swings open and annabeth and luke storm inside.

"i'll leave you guys to it! love you percy, talk soon," sally smiles from behind percy and the iris message dissolves.

"you need to go apologise to y/n right now," annabeth huffs.

"hey! she hit me first!" percy defends.

"yes i know, luke and i have just given her this exact talk. so listen percy jackson, you, are going to grow a pair of balls and talk to y/n. no fucking name calling or bickering, just plain talking. and if you don't, i'm going to sneak in here in the middle of the night and cut your dick off."

luke clears his throat and places a hand on annabeth's shoulder pulling her back. "okay... annabeth, take a chill pill." he turns back to you. "but seriously jackson, annabeths right - minus the dick cutting and shit - talk to the girl."

sighing percy just looks up not bothering to even fight anymore.

"i'll take that dejected sigh as a hell yeah," annabeth smiles. "y/n will be waiting for you at the end of the dock after dinner - which by the way is right now."

without even giving him the chance to object annabeth - and luke, i guess - usher percy out of the cabin and to the mess hall, snickering behind him about how he's secretly in love with y/n.

which....

'do you like y/n?' his mom's question flits into his mind.

does he?

maybe on some level he's had a crush on her since he came to camp.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

the water lapped at the edge of the dock posts.

you had been sitting here for five minutes - as per a very huffy and flustered annabeth's request - why you're sitting here? you actually don't know.

the moonlight shines down on the earth and you smile at the serenity of the moment. footsteps sound from behind you and you don't bother looking back - thinking its just annabeth coming to tell you why she wants you to wait here.

but the second his scent hits you, you tense up, his body radiating heat when he sits down next to you.

"hi."

you turn to face him. "hey." you're both quiet for a moment. "annabeth set you up too?"

percy nods and chuckles, "gotta love when she meddles."

you shoot him a look. "when annabeth meddles, you know things are either going horribly wrong or horribly wrong."

percy laughs and you can't help but smile at how simple the moment is and that you're not arguing.

"i'm sorry."

"i'm so sorry."

you both freeze at your double apology and look at one another. a new tension settling over the both of you. not the fierce type when you're both angry at the other, but a new type, a gentler one.

resting your hand on the dock you look out to the water, tensing up when you feel a warm hand cover your own.

your buried feelings rise very close to the surface and you curiously look over to percy, to find him earnestly looking at you.

"y/n... im so fucking sorry about earlier."

"hey its not entirely your fault," you offer. "i mean i punched you first."

"no, thats not it, i mean yeah, i'm very sorry about this morning, but i'm also sorry for the last like four years. i treated you ike dog shit and i have no excuse for it."

your soft eyes nearly send percy over the edge of the dock. he was finally doing this, he was finally going to tell you the truth.

"when you came to camp a few weeks ahead of me, i was jealous at how fast you had managed to fit in, how quick everyone seemed to accept you. it made me angry and i started to resent you," you suck in a breath at percy's explanation. "i resented you for like three weeks tops, by the way, and when you started to treat me the same way i thought you hated me too. by the time i had found my place in camp and had finally started to relax, it was too late for me to just stop suddenly acting shit towards you." percy rushes out. "so i kept treating you that way, i called you names and started fights with you because having any of your focus on me - even if it was bad - was worth it. i hated you because you were practically perfect and i could see it in every way. i hated you most of all because i didn't hate you at all."

the air is sucked out from between you.

"w-what?" you whisper. "you don't hate me?"

"no."

"i don't hate you either!" you rush out suddenly needing him to know. you're like two seconds off floating off the earth, the warmth of his hand practically grounding you to the dock.

percy's heart swells, "you don't?" his voice is whisper soft.

"no."

percy seizing his chance, slides closer to you angling his head towards your in question as he stares at your mouth.

you catching on quickly, nodding to him, grinning internally at how this moment - one you've dreamed of for years is finally about to happen.

he presses a soft kiss to your mouth, his hands shooting to the sides of your face holding you as if you're the worlds most precious gem. fireworks explode low in your stomach as if to remind you that you're kissing percy jackson, you're kissing percy jackson!!

your hand makes its way to the back of his neck holding him there and pulling him impeccably closer. your heart rockets when you pull back for air and percy makes a whining noise.

you shuffle closer to him then, basking in his warmth. only now just noticing the small vines and flowers that have twisted their way onto the dock and curled around your ankles.

grinning percy turns back to you running a hand on the back of your head and pulling you back for another kiss.

somewhere in the back ground you can hear annabeth victory cheering and laughing with luke but you don't care. at this point nothing could tear you away from the boy who's kissing you, who's holding you with such reverence you'd think he was holding a priceless artifact.

a/n: lol sorry this was so long (un-edited btw!! i stayed up wayyyy too late to even think about editing this lol)

© strawberries-and-summer-days please do not steal, use or repost my works.

[lethalchiralium]

All I Ask | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: hi. PLEASE GIVE ME REQUESTS FOR THIS IM RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS AND I DONT WANT TO START THE ANGST ARC YET PLEASE

warnings: TALKING ABOUT SIMON’S TRAUMA (which includes physical abuse)

summary: Simon tells you why he feels ashamed, plus Mellie decides to be a comforting little baby.

PREVIOUS << | >> NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

Simon could not get you to slow down, it was worrying him. He had taken the night to just sleep, fighting nightmares and waking up just as tired as he was when his head hit the pillow. He got up, took a shower without having to let Mellie into the bathroom to play, got dressed and made his way downstairs to find you.

The TV was on, the stupid show about those blue dogs playing that Simon secretly enjoyed, Mellie bouncing around in her little walker as you sat on the couch; Winnie’s hair between your fingers, making much prettier braids than he ever has. Though, Winnie has never complained; she said that he braids her hair ‘nicer’, whatever that meant - but it meant everything to him.

The baby in the bright yellow walker looked to him, her hand in her mouth as she smiled and began to coo at him - her free hand making grabbing signals. He smiled, walking straight to her and plucking her from the walker, settled her on his arm while both of her hands gripped his shirt. Her little head rested on his collarbone, a happy little giggle leaving her lips as he turned to his wife and oldest daughter.

Winnie shoveled fistfuls of Cheerios out of the box and into her mouth, infatuated with the blue and orange dogs while you smiled to him, radiant. He almost took a step back, in disbelief of how content you looked.

“You okay?” You spoke, looking back to Winnie’s hair. He gazed down at Mellie, her face looking at the TV too.

“Fine.” He answered, moving towards the couch to sit beside you. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder before draping his free arm on the back of the couch, eyes falling on the TV. “You doin’ okay?”

“I’m more worried about you than I am me.” Your answer made him frown a bit as you looked back to Winnie’s hair.

He looked to your hair, wishing he could see you beautiful face. “You don’t need to worry ‘bout me.”

“I always worry about you.” You murmured, fingers slowing as you continued the one of two Dutch braids. He opened his mouth to say a rebuttal, but you continued, “But this is a whole different kind of worry. This is really hard, and I need to make sure that you’re going to be okay. And that I can help you in any way you need.”

“I should be saying that to you.” His baby tugged on his shirt while the hand not on Mellie settled on your closest shoulder, the girl cuddled on his chest began to coo again. He looked down to her, noticing that she wasn’t even looking at him - she was looking at you.

You turned your head to kiss the hand on your shoulder before turning back to your daughter’s hair. “Did a lot of thinking. A lot of crying.” A moment of laughter came from the TV, his eyes flickered to it. He watched the show just for a second before you began again, his eyes went back to you. “Families don’t go according to plan. When I was a kid, wanting two girls and two boys of my own and a loving husband was my plan; but then you crashed the party and you stomped all over it with the most wonderful little girl I’ve ever met.” You leaned forwards a kissed Winnie’s hair, to which she grumbled as the cereal box kept rustling with her grubby little hands digging out Cheerios. “Nothing I planned for my whole life has ever gone as planned. Adopting my daughter and hoping I’m raising her how her birth mother wants wasn’t a part of my plan. Having a surprise baby while you’re off protecting the world wasn’t a part of the plan.” He squeezed your shoulder. “We wanted another, but it just wasn’t in the cards. We drew a bad hand.”

“Wise girl.” He smiled, moving forwards to press a kiss to the back of your head. “I’ll be fine.”

“You say that.” You murmured. “I don’t want to push you, Si, but I want you to actually be okay. And it’s not an overnight decision-“

“I had a dream about my mum.”

You looked surprised. He has never told you about his dreams, even when she’s waking him from the nightmares which had him screaming.

The weight in his chest was lifted because of that dream, even if he knew she wasn’t real. His mom was dead, but he dreamt and talked to her as if she wasn’t. He couldn’t tell you what he had told his mother in his dream.

“I hope you were able to bring yourself comfort.” Your voice broke him from the memory, head still faced forwards towards Winnie. “There’s no reason to feel ashamed about missing your mom. I miss mine all the time.”

Mellie’s hand gripped what little stubble he had on his chin, he looked down at her. Her eyes that matched his, wide and warm and accompanied by her two toothed smile. His hand gently pushed back her barely their hair that looked like yours, the girl cooed.

“She’s supposed to be talking soon, right?” He mumbled, her little baby nails dug into his chin but he didn’t care. “Keep forgetting to get her to talk.”

“She will when she’s ready.”

Mellie smacked his chin, he frowned at her. She giggled back, the sleeve of her blue onesie riding up her arm.

“Say Dada.” He whispered, the baby furrowed her eyebrows. “Dada.”

“Simon Riley, don’t you be turning her on me.” Your voice held warning, but full of playfulness. He glanced to you, you still faced away. “Her first word is gonna be ‘Mama’ and there will be hell to pay if it isn’t.”

He looked back to the baby on his chest, a sudden clench of his heart made his smile drop. The little baby was looking to you now since she heard your voice.

“I didn’t want him.”

His free hand gently patted his baby’s back, she kept her eyes on her mom.

“I didn’t want our son and I don’t know why.”

There was a moment of silence, save for the TV, where neither of you said a word. He couldn’t look at you.

“Winnie, baby, can you go eat in the dining room for me?” Your voice was soft, Winnie hopped off of the couch, loudly crunching on her Cheerios as she passed by Simon - her hair in two neat little braids. He kept his gaze on his baby, watching as her little smile grew bigger as you turned to look at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Your hand was gentle when it rested on his chest, Mellie’s grip disappeared from his chin, moving to your fingers. The little chunky hands grabbed your pointer finger, trying to pull it to her mouth.

His words failed him as he watched Mellie begin to chew on your finger, you were completely unfazed. How could he have told you? It would’ve only hurt you.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Your head then rested on his shoulder, his hand still patted Mellie’s back. “I don’t need to know, I’m just trying to help you.”

The tears weren’t purposeful, yet they still fell - just short of Mellie’s head. The girl looked up to him, her little eyes widened and she immediately pulled your hand from her sharp teeth. Her little baby hands then smacked themselves onto his face, directly in the way of the streaks of his tears.

“Daddy’s okay, baby.” He whispered, his other hand tried to move her hands from his face, but she let out a grunt in disapproval. “It’s alright.”

You curled your body into his side, arms wrapped around his left arm - head nestled on his shoulder. Silence fell again, his daughter staring directly into his eyes and refusing to move her hands as he silently cried. Her little fingers curled uncurled against his cheeks, little nails scuffing up his face but he didn’t care. He could stay like this forever.

Mellie blinked at him, cooing a little as the tears began to stop. Her eyes grew tired, her hands moved from his face and to his chest, keeping herself sitting up so she could stare at him. She scrunched her nose just like her sister, and without warning, slammed her head into his collarbone. He winced in pain, his only free hand coming to cradle her head.

He’d be lying if he said that he wanted time to keep moving, so he could watch his daughters grow. He just wanted to stay like this, his baby cradled on his chest and just as sassy as her older sister.

“My father,” His voice was quiet, just above a whisper. “He hated that he had boys. Hated that he had children in the first place, never once told me that he loved me. Always told me that he never wanted me.”

Your hands squeezed his arm.

“And I know I told you that I would be okay with a boy, but I don’t think I could look my own son in the face. All I’d see is me, that little boy who was so terrified of his father that he hid in the cabinets for days. The little boy who was forced to watch his father beat his mother.” He took a short breath. “I couldn’t look a carbon copy of myself in the face and act like I loved him, because he would be a reminder of how I failed my family. That I would end up like my father.”

“You’ll never be that fucking bastard.” Your voice was certain, he knew you were looking up at him but he couldn’t move his eyes from Mellie as her little face turned to look at you. “Simon, please, look at me.”

He couldn’t deny you a thing - not in this lifetime, or the next. His head turned, his face looking to you - his heart shattered. There were tears in your eyes, your hands squeezing his arm.

“You never will be like your father,” Hands gripped around his arm, you pulled his arm even further into your chest. “That girl on your chest has never been anything but love from you. Winnie has only ever been loved by you. Have you hit her?”

He stared at you. “No.”

“Would you? Has the thought ever crossed your mind?”

“No.”

“You’re already miles better than him.” Your voice grew softer, your hand moved to rest on his cheek. “And I know you’d never think of hurting me.” The tears stung his eyes, the tiredness that welled in his shoulders began to hurt as you whispered to him, “I know you’re scared of becoming him, but I doubt you ever will. You have so much love to give, Simon. From what I’ve heard, your father only had hurt to give.”

“I don’t ever want to hurt you.” His eyes fluttered closed, leaning his head forward to settle his forehead against yours. “I don’t want to hurt my girls, I just want to love all three of you.”

“That’s all I ask for.”

A little hand smacked his cheek, he opened an eye to look in the direction of Mellie. He opened both of his eyes, pressing a kiss to your forehead before looking to his baby.

“Say Mama.” He spoke, the little baby scrunched her nose again. He smiled through his tears, his eyes flickered up when he saw Winnie creep into view. Her little green bear settled in her arms, she rubbed the back of her hand into her eye. “C’mon, Winnie.”

The chestnut haired little girl instantly climbed her way onto his lap, narrowly avoiding the baby on his chest and plopping in between him and you. You instantly moved your arm around her, grabbing the blanket that was set on the arm of the couch. He helped you with his free hand, pulling the blanket to cover his family.

“I’m proud of you, Si.” You spoke, hand resting on his chest as your arm laid on Winnie’s side. His oldest daughter’s head settled just under yours, you placed a kiss on her head.

Those words made him smile, the tears falling down his face - Mellie looked back up to him after curiously watching you and him cover everyone with the blanket. He pressed a kiss to her face before leaning his head back onto the back of the couch, closing his eyes. You moved one leg over his lap, sleep began to gnaw at his head.

“Daddy.”

“Yeah, Winnie?” He answered.

“That wasn’t me.” He heard Winnie as clear as day, his head shot up to look down at Mellie, who still kept herself sitting up and looking at him - a smile on her little face. He could instantly feel your head pop up from his shoulder.

“Mama.” He said, hushed, “You say Mama, Mellie. Not Daddy.”

“Daddy.” The little baby on his chest cooed, louder this time. “Dada.”

“She said her first word.” You whispered, hand squeezing his arm. “I’m so mad at you for being first.”

“I was rooting for her to say mama too,” He whispered, his hand gently patting Mellie’s back.

“Say Mama, Mellie.” The baby looked to you as soon as you spoke, she stared at you. “She has your staring problem.”

“I know. I kind of feel bad.” He commented as he watched Winnie’s hand reach out to pet her sister’s head, the baby cooed again. Mellie looked back to Simon, her little hand reached back for his face. He pressed a kiss to her hand before letting her grab his stubble again, almost wincing as she pulled on it. “Gentle, Bug.”

“Dada.” Mellie answered, then let go of his chin - settling her head gently on his chest this time.

“I love you, Bug.” He whispered, kissing her head before moving to Winnie, placing a kiss on her head too as he said, “I love you, Duckling.”

You pressed a kiss to his cheek before he could get to you. “I love you.”

He wasn’t sure he could ever live without you.

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