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engagedtobefree · 4 months

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Not yesterday, but the previous Thursday was a really great day.

I had my appointment with Chris. I got there like 15ish minutes early, and he came out and took me right back. There was so much that happened so I don’t even know what to start with. I guess I could start with saying that I finally showed up. I stumbled through it, but I still did it, so I’m incredibly happy nonetheless. I was still nervous but I was able to flirt a bit. My main intention was to give back to Chris and I did that, so mission accomplished. I don’t really remember everything I said because I was so nervous. Chris told me many times that I make him nervous, which he did at my last appointment too, then he asked if I make him nervous and I said yes. I don’t know if he can tell, but my mouth gets so dry from how nervous I am. Maybe that’s why he asked lol. I am simultaneously comfortable with him but also nervous. It’s an interesting combination. He was very complimentary and flirty as usual. Chris starts off by wishing me a Happy Mother’s Day and I laugh and tell him he’s the only person to say that to me. He’s so sweet. He said he was nervous that I wasn’t going to show and that he overthinks things, which is actually what I do too. Both this appointment and my last one I have been nervous that he was going to move me off his schedule. I didn’t say anything about that, but I did tell him I looked forward to being there. I also told him it’s cute when he acts weird and silly, that he has the nicest smile, and something else too but I forget specifically, though I know it was a compliment towards his physical appearance. I also touched him, but more on that later. Actually it’s funny because the second time he complimented my teeth I said to him, “That’s all me. I don’t want you to think I’m seeing any other hygienists on the side”. Well, he went into a whole spiel literally for several minutes about how he'd make himself my hygienist again 😂 I fully did not expect that when I said what I did. He's so silly. It's adorable.

I had an appointment with the oral surgeon last week just to check x-rays (I don’t have to go back for that again. Yay!), and Chris didn’t make an appearance. My appointment was originally mid-April, then got pushed back to the end of April, then got pushed back again to May 7th. Of course the oral surgeon was running behind, so I sat out in the waiting room for like an hour, my heart racing every time someone opened the door. Even when I was taken back, I kept on high alert but didn’t see Chris anywhere. I didn’t let it dishearten me or take it personal since I knew there was probably a reason I didn’t see him, but I was still bummed out about it. So yesterday, pretty early on in my appointment, Chris told me he went up to the Poconos for 4 days on his birthday, which was May 8th. When he was telling me about it, he told me like 3 times that he went alone lol. I’m not sure if like last time he was giving me an opening to ask if he was single or not since it wasn’t on my mind like last time, so I wasn’t reading into anything like that or looking for it. I just thought that it was a good confirmation for me that he was alone and then I was done with thinking about it. Stacy told me I should have still said something, but honestly, it didn’t even cross my mind since I had already let go of my intention to do that. I have always felt like I can trust Chris, so I decided to stop questing that. Because of that, I no longer need any sort of confirmation from him. I stopped questioning myself, so now it’s easy. The thing I do know though is that regardless, I know Chris had definitely said what he did as a way to tell me why he hadn’t been there last week. I appreciate his thoughtfulness. I like that Chris tells me certain things but not others. He gives me reassurances and his honesty, but he also leaves space for me to figure things out on my own or put 2 and 2 together, even if it's something that isn't complicated to figure out. Intellectual stimulation is something that I need, and he definitely gives me that in a few different ways, this being one of them.

He told me he was in an accident the morning before and I was thinking how I’m glad he’s okay, though I don’t think I actually said that out loud. He opened up to me a lot about his family life, and like mine, his also sounded pretty chaotic and traumatic. (I'm not going to post specifics out of respect to Chris.) He was very open, which I also appreciate. I know he probably isn’t like that with just anyone, so it makes me feel special. I also like getting to know more about him. He asked me about my parents and I oversimplified it a lot, not because I was uncomfortable sharing but because I didn’t want to spend what precious little time I had with him there talking about this kind of stuff. Funnily enough, Chris was thinking the same thing, because he told me we should talk about other stuff while we’re there. Because of what he was saying about his mom, he mentioned astrology and tarot, and added on how he doesn’t judge anyone if that’s what they’re into. It sounded like he was telling the truth, but I could sense some slight resistance beneath the surface, which would be understandable based on his own personal experience with it. I’m into both of those things though lol. I’m very practical about both, however. Like yoga, to me they are tools for healing, growth, and following my dharma. I am very aware that people do get weird about both of those things, spread false info, or use them in ways that are not helpful or serving of a higher purpose. It is very annoying and frustrating to me when I see someone, especially someone with influence, using them in ways that are stereotypically incorrect or downright harmful. So I 100% understand anyone’s trepidation towards them. What I won’t tolerate is anyone like the stupid, pompous men on the internet I see quite often that try to veil their blatant sexism by attacking women for what they’re interested in. I know that Chris does not fall into that category at all though.

Him telling me about his parents though was a big reassurance. Even though nothing has gone anywhere yet between Chris and I, I’ve already started worrying about him meeting my mom. She is a difficult person to deal with. There’s been no doubt in my mind that if anyone is capable of dealing with her with ease and efficiency, it’s Chris, but I still dreaded the thought of him even having to do that. I’m not happy that he understands because I know how absolutely awful it is when your parents are difficult and unstable, but in another way, it’s a sense of relief. I act very differently around my mom than I do normally. I’m very closed off with her, and my patience is in short supply. There are times where I try to enter a compassionate mindset for her, but it’s difficult for me to stay there long-term. I understand that my mom has her own trauma and was not helped in the ways she should’ve been when she did seek help, but I also recognize it is no excuse for her behavior and how she has treated me throughout my life, especially when I was younger and helpless. I was also worried that maybe Chris would see me differently because of how I act around my mom, so it’s also a reassurance in that sense as well. There are reasons why I have walls up between my mother and I, and they will never come down. Any time I even give my mom the tiniest bit of info about anything in my life, she turns it into something negative and catastrophic, a dramatic tragedy that must be acted out in four acts before reaching an anticlimactic conclusion. This is just one of her many unnerving talents, and it’s not even the worst of them. She also says things that are inappropriate or just wildly inaccurate. I’m going on a weekend retreat in July and one of the teachers is from Canada, and she not only freaked out because of me doing something as a grown adult, but she also said how Canada has the highest human trafficking rate in the entire world, which obviously is so far from true. I really don’t know how she comes up with this stuff. This is just one recent example, and a mild one at that. She did end up buying my train ticket to the retreat for me, which was nice, but it took a bit for us to get there. My mom has certainly improved with some things, and I can recognize certain efforts she’s currently making, but unless she manages to do a complete 180, which is doubtful, our relationship with each other will never be a close one. I need to protect my own well-being and mental health.

I noticed about half way through my appointment that Chris seemed to be rushing through it. I thought that was weird and wondered why he would do that, but I didn’t have time to think over anything because Chris started talking again. When he was finished with my cleaning, he said he wasn’t going to call the dentist in since my mouth always looks fine. I’ve never been to a cleaning where the dentist wasn’t called in to look at my mouth afterwards. When we had gone back to the room, I immediately noticed we’re in a different one from all my previous appointments with Chris. Normally, I wouldn’t remember something like that, but I’m always hyper aware of my surroundings when I’m there. The room Chris picked that day is in the back, at the end of a hallway. He told me some supervisor or whoever was there that day, so at first I assumed he picked that room just to have some peace and to be left alone. I was wrong, at least partially so. After he was finished, he booked my next appointment, then after a few minutes or so, he sat up on the counter smiling. He said since his appointment before me didn’t show up and he took me back early, with his next appointment not being until 4:10, we had time to just sit back there. I turned and looked at the clock and it was only 3:20-something. Everything clicked then. The reason he chose the back room, the reason he didn’t call in the doctor, the reason he rushed through my cleaning…it was so that we had time to just sit and talk. He completely surprised me with that 😭😭😭 I have noticed about Chris that he seems to have an intent and purpose for saying and doing certain things, then he puts everything into action. I find it admirable. I know that the reason things haven’t really gone anywhere outside of his work is fully purposeful on his end. He has some sort of intention there, some reasoning as to why, and so I know when he does move forward it will also be purposeful and intentional. I trust him, so I’ve learned to find contentment with waiting. I can trust that whatever it is, whether I can predict the outcome or not, Chris will take us in a certain direction and get us where he intends to go. I like that. There is a sense of safety and comfort in that, even when I can’t see the end destination.

Chris did mention how he was supposed to go to Maryland and pick up a motorcycle this weekend, and he asked if I’ve ever ridden on one, which I haven’t. He said we would have to change that this summer. That surprised me, but it made me feel hopeful. Summertime actually sounds nice. Lately I’ve actually felt really accepting of things not progressing, and I’ve been fully enjoying the extra time to continue to work on some things and tie up some loose ends. I feel like I’m just about ready though. I had been thinking how it would be nice to do something more physical with him, since I just want him to touch me as much as possible, and I had been thinking how it’s a shame that it’s not October because then we could do some haunted attraction sort of thing. When I thought about that though, I had a distinct feeling that it won’t be that long, so when Chris said the summer, that actually felt lighter, more accurate. I’d also get to touch him if we ride on the motorcycle 😈

Chris took off his smock (idk the name of it - the internet says gown or jacket but those don’t seem right to me), so I finally get to see his body better. I had actually been thinking for a few weeks now how I wish I could see him in his scrubs, and well, some dreams really do come true. He’s in black from head to toe. He looks really good. It only takes a moment of me looking at him to come up with a new wish: to see him with nothing on at all. He does keep saying how hot he is because he’s nervous, so technically I could say what I’m thinking, but I decided that for the time being I’m not going to flirt in any sexual way. The computer in this room is right behind the patient chair, so his butt was right near my face when he was at the computer and oh my Lord 🫠🫠🫠 Forgive me father, for in my mind, I am sinning. He blessed me twice by going to the computer again when I asked if he had an appointment card for me. I had actually touched Chris twice during my appointment, once while he was working on my mouth and then again when he was at the computer. His skin was very soft. I connected this to that one poem Chris is in that I mentioned in another post. One of the lines I wrote about Chris was: “To know you is to know God, to see you is to see straight into the heart of heaven, and so touching you is an act of forgiveness I can’t follow through on.” I wasn’t just talking about touching, but also moving forward in general, but still, I touched Chris. I hadn’t realized this till later in the day. I feel okay. I feel good. I’ve worked through a lot of things and it’s nice to see myself moving forward now, letting go of past hurts and releasing any shame I’ve been holding onto. The bits before that are really about this knowing that I’ve always had since day one that Chris is special. He has a goodness about him that I’ve always sensed. I remember specifically thinking at my first appointment with him, “This is a good man”. I really didn’t have any particular reason for thinking that; it was just something I could sense. And I don’t do that, I don’t go around just thinking men are good, so that really says something that I felt that way. It’s not that I think all men are bad or anything, and I know that terrible women exist too, but I do think it’s rare to find a man who is well-roundedly good. Okay, so back to the poem. In regards to the first two-thirds of the line, there’s a bit more to them than what I explained about them, obviously, but that’s the simplest way I can put it, I guess, and all I really want to explain here. What I love about writing poetry is that I can write one thing and there’s the surface level meaning, but then there’s deeper meaning underneath it. What I can say in just one sentence could garner a whole paragraph of me explaining what I meant by that one sentence.

It’s funny too because in my poems I always use a lot of religious imagery, I think because those words tend to invoke such strong imagery or meaning. Because of attending 13 years of Catholic school, I am forever cursed to use those words in my writing, even though I am no longer Catholic. Chris asked me if I practice any religion and I took a moment to think over my response. I told him not really, but that because of yoga I do engage in Hindu practices. I am hesitant to call myself Hindu for multiple reasons: I feel like my knowledge is still pretty limited, I am not consistent with practices, and Hinduphobia is still a very real thing. I think the last one is probably my biggest hesitation because Indian Hindus have had to deal with a lot of fear-mongering around their religion, and in certain parts of India they have to be careful because they could be jumped, raped, or murdered by Muslims over there. I would also be completely safe from the Caste system, though from what I’ve read, the Caste system was created as a way to politicize the religion. I'd also be exempt from any sort of arranged marriage. I guess through acknowledgement of my privilege in these regards would be good enough though. Many Hindus, like with other Eastern religions, consider what they practice as more of a philosophy rather than a religion. I can see that, because they are very much structured in a way where you can choose your own beliefs and your own path, with some baseline rules/guidelines that are really there out of respect and to establish some basic principles. I did see a post recently, I think it was on tumblr actually, where someone was saying how even if you’re just starting out and learning, you can still say that you practice that religion. So that is also something for me to think over, I suppose. Anyway, back to Chris. He responded back to me with something along the lines of “Oh okay, so Hinduism, Buddhism, things like that.” Then he said that’s probably about as far as he’d go too and that like me, he grew up Catholic. (He’s also Italian on his dad’s side and Irish on his mom’s like me too.) I can appreciate Buddhism and like some of the practices, but I don’t feel as connected to it as I do with Hinduism. I also find certain things about it boring, or they simply don’t resonate. I wouldn’t really care if Chris practiced anything or not, as I see choice of religion as something that should be deeply personal and not forced on anyone. There are multiple paths to get to the same destination. I did find it interesting the little bit he had said back to me though. I am curious to hear what his thoughts would be on other things in regards to that topic. I’m curious to hear what he has to say in general about anything, honestly, which is funny. It’s very hard for anyone to pique my curiosity in this way, even friends. I honestly have never been so curious to learn about anyone ever. It's not that I am never interested in what anyone else has to say or whatnot, but just not to such a strong degree.

Going back to the line in my poem for a sec, I didn't use the words "God" and "heaven" thinking about them in a Christian sense, but rather more generalized. Some words I've come to see as religious-neutral, if you will. Kinda like gender-neutral lol. In Hinduism, "God" is usually referred to as Brahman. The concept of Brahman definitely differs from the Christian God, though there are still multiple ways to view/interpret Brahman, but I've seen plenty of Hindu texts and read enough of it at this point to see the word God used fairly often. So to me, God no longer evokes much connection to Christianity tbh. I've also seen "heaven" used a handful of times in Hindu texts as well. Even within religions where reincarnation is the general consensus, there is still some sort of afterlife we are said to go to before that reincarnation happens. So "heaven" does not automatically equate to the Christian heaven for me now either. To me, they are simply words to express aspects of the divine.

Chris tells me he only works Monday through Thursday, with Fridays off, but that he does other stuff on the side for work. He stops talking and stares at me while I'm sitting there thinking, "Oh I wonder what else he does" but just like with the accident thing, I don't actually say what I'm thinking 😑 There is always a sort of disconnect between my brain and my mouth where I do not say something that there would be no issue with saying, or when I do actually say something, in the time it takes for my thought to travel to my mouth, the words that come out barely resemble the original thought. It's very frustrating at times. I say a lot of things I don't mean to say, or I don't say things at all when I want to. I’m in the process of learning just how much ADHD fucks with my life literally every day and I don’t like it. More on that later. I can also tell that Chris is a hard worker, which I like. Before Chris sat up on the counter, he had been going through my file. He said my birthday out loud, smiling while he did so, and he told me his birth year was 1987, which I had already figured out anyway since I had asked his age last year and he told me 36, so I did the math already lol. I was born in 1991. It's funny actually, one day last week I had been thinking about Chris when I opened up my personal email, and right at that second I received an email from the Christopher and Dana Reeve Foundation. In 2020, every month I donated to a few new places, which I don't recommend since they will constantly bombard you with emails and spam mail, but a few places I stayed subscribed to for whatever reasons. The C&D Foundation was one. I got curious and googled both of the Reeves and I shit you not, I literally cannot make this stuff up.

How funny is that??? I saw it and thought it was a cute coincidence.

At one point we get talking about Philly and I mention how I went to Temple. He says how bad it is there, which I already know lol, though campus was pretty safe. Then he says how you could get robbed, murdered, or God forbid, raped. That caught my attention because I thought it was really interesting that he said it like that. I don't think many people, men especially, would put rape before murder. Actually, in the Webtoons app on some comic I was reading forever ago, there was a discussion on one of the episodes where people were arguing in the comments about whether rape or murder was worse. Some people were on the fence, some said murder, a few said rape. I thought it was such a stupid conversation to have in the first place because both are terrible. People argue over the dumbest shit. Just say both are terrible and move on. It's weird to me when people make competitions out of things that really shouldn't be made into competitions. Anyway, I am curious as to why he would put it like that. Maybe there's no particular reason and I'm just overthinking it.

He also asks me about yoga and says he does yin and restorative. I knew about the yin, but the restorative is new. I tell him that's good since it balances his hockey. Yin and restorative would be both considered yin practices, whereas hockey would be yang. I didn't think of it at the moment, but doing some hatha would also be good since it would target smaller muscles that hockey doesn't and also it would be good for his spine. I know he leans over a lot because of his job, and both yin and restorative involve a lot of rounding of the spine usually, so hatha would bring in more space, lengthening, and straightening there. Yoga is really all about the spine in many ways, not just physically but energetically as well. I operate under the mindset that regardless of other activities, everyone should practice different types of yoga. I didn't think in the moment to say any of that, I think because I was just so impressed with his ability to naturally gravitate towards a practice that would bring in some balance towards his physical activities. Many people tend to only stick with one type (ie. People who are very active may gravitate towards the active yoga styles, where it would benefit them to do those less). I can always make suggestions to him later though. He did say I could show him some yoga, which I agreed I could do. He said he's pretty flexible and he posed real quick in a seated warrior. He was definitely showing off, but not at all in a bad way. It was really cute. If he was trying to charm me, it worked.

Of course, Chris took his mask off after he was finished with my cleaning. I get to observe his face more. He has features that I've always found attractive: brown eyes, imperfect teeth, lips on the thinner side, darker hair (though I also find the gray sexy). Not that I'm attracted to just anyone with those features though. I never come across anyone I’m attracted to lol. I can acknowledge someone is attractive but I don't really care about that. It doesn't make me attracted to them. It's very weird to me when people harp on about an attractive celebrity or follow people on social media just because they're good looking. I'm an outlier in that sense, I think. Someone being attractive just isn't something for me to linger on or care about in any way, unless I'm in a certain low mindset where I'm comparing myself to someone else, and even then, obviously it would only be other women. However, I am very attracted to Chris and think he's very handsome. His eyes really send me into another world. At one point we just locked eyes and smiled at each other and it was so nice. I was trying to think of something to compare his eye color to, something natural, but honestly every brown I come across seems too dull and also isn't the right shade. If I had to pick something, I would say the chocolate chips in homemade cookies that just came out of the oven. I'm fairly certain the color would be accurate, but they're also warm and glistening just like Chris's eyes.

Seeing all of him is quite the experience. I haven’t really had the chance for that to happen, since I’ve only been able to really see his face briefly and because of his work clothes, I also haven’t been able to see his body well. I mean, I have still been attracted to him since day one, even physically, like that pull was always there, but I haven’t been able to see him fully until now. And it’s making me crazy. The second time I had touched him, I gently brought my fingers to the tattoo above his right elbow. It’s an alien smoking lol. He told me his one sister did it for him and that she also did one above his hip. He doesn’t say what the one above his hip is, but I probably wouldn’t have heard him anyway because my mind immediately latched onto what his hips look like, then that thought morphed into imagining what it would feel like for his hips to thrust up against me, his hard body hitting up against the softness of mine. 🙃🙃🙃 I am definitely not alone in my dirty thoughts though. Chris has always expressed when his thoughts have wandered into that direction, and I actually got to see it this time. It was towards the end of my cleaning when Chris had gotten up, and I felt some toothpaste around my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and over to the right to try and lick it off. Chris had turned around so we were facing each other, and I looked over at him and was surprised to see a serious look on his face while he was staring intently at me. I immediately could tell he was having dirty thoughts, but it took me a second to realize it was because of what I was doing. It didn’t even cross my mind that me trying to lick toothpaste off around my mouth would come across as sexy lol. I do like the face he’s making though. Seeing him turned on is a turn on for me.

Chris had touched me at my one appointment with him, the one from last May. Based on what I’ve observed, he seems like he would be very physically affectionate, so I am curious as to why he hasn’t touched me again. Maybe he thought it wasn’t well-received, but it was. I want him to pull me in close. I want that a lot. He would also make a very good addition to me and Weasley’s snuggle sessions. I want to know what he feels like up close. I want to feel his body heat and what his arms feel like wrapped around me. I want to know everything there is to know. I want to experience everything about him, both internally and externally.

Chris makes me really nervous, but in a good way, but it does make my mind go blank at times so I can’t think of anything to say, so at a certain point I look down at my ring and play with it for a few seconds, moving it up and down. When I look back up, Chris is watching me and smiling. He can probably tell that I'm nervous. We talk a bit more about a few things: he approves of the toothpaste I use, I make fun of his handwriting on my appt card, I mention how I'll be cutting a lot of my hair off soon, I mention how I shed everywhere and he asks me if he thinks any hair would come out if he pulled it lol. He has to get ready for his next appointment, so I have to leave. When I get up, he tells me I look really good. I have my gaze cast downwards as I adjust my pants, and I wish I had looked up to see what his face looked like at that moment, especially because we were standing so close. I tell him to let me know when he's not busy so we can go do something, and he says he will. He kept saying during my whole appointment that he's always really busy. It would be nice to see him more often than every 6 months, so I wanted to give him the green light to do that if he does want to. He told me to text him, so maybe he was also telling me in his own way to reach out. When I do message him, he doesn't usually say much, so I never know whether he wants to talk to me or not. Maybe I have just been getting him at bad times, or maybe he doesn't realize that he's not that great at messaging lol. He told me the same thing at the end of my last appointment, so I guess he does want to hear from me. I will just have to reach out with something more specific rather than asking how he's doing, cuz that doesn't get me anywhere. I am cutting my hair within the next few weeks and I told him he'd see it, so I could send him that.

I did message him on Sunday to ask if he got his motorcycle, and he told me he had just gotten back with it and that he had to register it and whatnot. I was really excited for him. He told me how he had been messaging with this guy on Facebook about a motorcycle, but the guy gave it to someone else, which is why he ended up going to Maryland for this one. He seemed bummed about the other one, but I could tell he was still excited to have found another bike. I was genuinely happy for him. When I messaged him too it was because I was honestly curious and hoping that it worked out for him. I wasn’t trying to force anything. I tend to always keep a tight grip on things, pushing to make stuff happen, not just romantically but in all areas of my life. In esoteric terms, this is known as Masculine energy. I do best when I release that and get into Feminine energy instead, a state of flow, allowing, and trusting. It took me a bit to get here, but it feels nice and comforting now that I’ve arrived. Being in this state in the past has also ended up being times where things have gone smoothly for me. Everyone has both Masc and Fem energies within them, as certain times and situations require one over the other, but we all also have a natural energy that is best for us to default to. It’s not always the same as your gender/sex, though for many people it could be. Mine is definitely feminine.

I want to go back to the “busy” thing for a moment too. He repeated it several times throughout my entire appointment, but that’s not the only thing he kept repeating. He also kept saying how since his appt before me didn’t show up, he didn’t want to keep me waiting. I didn’t think there was a need for him to repeat either thing, so then I started wondering if he had a reason for repeating them. Was he trying to tell me something else? Was he trying to tell me that he just has things going on and that he hasn’t been purposely making me wait for something to finally happen? I’m not sure. It could be me just reading too much into things, but at all my other appointments, he hasn’t repeated himself like that.

Chris talks a bit about his schooling and how he needed to learn a lot about nutrition. I try to contribute like one thing, but he already knew 😑 So I’m just not going to contribute to that topic ever unless it’s something he says he doesn’t know. I was so embarrassed, which wasn’t his fault at all. I did it to myself. It's really cute how he doesn't know where any place is. At my last appointment I mentioned 2 areas he's never been to, and it happened at least 3 times at this appointment. He does know where I live since he went to the college near my apartment. The final time I mentioned an area he didn't know about was when he was talking about Route 1**. I said oh i grew up in B******r. I thought maybe he might know it since part of that route runs straight through town, but he said he didn't. I smiled and looked at him also smiling, and there was a certain sparkle in his eye, like he was prepared for me to make a comment on how he doesnt know where anyplace is, which I was highly considering just when the check-out desk lady walked in. She has someone's file that is missing some sort of chart. They're talking a lot of dental office jargon so mostly I'm not paying attention and just watching Chris, thinking about how biteable his bottom lip is. After she leaves, he asks me what else I've been up to and I tell him how I started playing guitar again. He exclaimed "yeah-eahhh!!" And it was so genuine 😭 He asked if I would write any of my own stuff and I said I probably would but that I'm not there yet, but that I've been writing a new poem every day this year. I notice I’ve shed my hair a few times all over the seat and I say something about it. I have medium-thick hair and Weasley has medium-length, thick fur, so I am always cleaning up hair and fur that gets everywhere. I tell Chris how I am always finding clumps of my hair or Weasley’s fur everywhere, and Chris says he wouldn’t mind.

Traffic was god awful on my way home, so it took me almost double the time to get home. I was only in the door for a few minutes when he messaged me saying, "You're sexy as hell". I responded back thanking him and saying right back at ya, and he responded with the smiley devil emoji 😈. So that was all he had to say. He's too funny.

When I got into bed Thursday night, I was assessing how I was feeling because it hit me that I felt a sort of fullness. I wanted to take a closer look at that. The usual that I've felt since day one were all there: content, warm, seen, understood. There were two that were not necessarily new, but that I felt more strongly this time: enough and whole. The latter two stood out to me, as well as the understood one. It's interesting because I have felt very misunderstood lately, but I easily slipped out of that somehow because of Chris. I still don't quite understand that, but that's okay. Just because I have a question doesn't mean it needs to be answered right away. The enoughness thing stood out to me for several reasons. One being that it's a really good way for me to gauge that Chris is being genuine, and second being that I know some things I will never have to worry about. I still have some underlying relationship fears, and they haven't come up yet but I'm sure at some point they will, but I know that either they won't be an issue with Chris or if they do pop up that they will be able to be handled in a sensitive and constructive manner. I know that I can rest. It's a strange feeling simply because it is foreign to me. I am not used to not having the rug pulled out from underneath me. I'm not used to not being on guard, waiting for something shitty to be said to me/about me or done to me. I'm not used to not going home and crying because someone else was so careless, reckless, selfish. I know I don't know Chris that well, so I really don't have any way of explaining how I know that none of that will be an issue. I guess it's a combined effort of what I've observed so far and some sort of intuitive knowing that I can't quite explain logically. And the whole wholeness thing...it's not that I am incomplete on my own or anything like that. I don't actually know how to explain that feeling further or rationalize it, I just feel that it's there. I don't know if that makes sense or not. Like, I can feel it, I can identify what that feeling is, but I'm not sure why I feel it or what it means. Another question I don't have an answer to yet. After my appointment with Chris I thought oh wow nothing weird happened this time, which I was fine with since enough has already happened since day one. But now upon further reflection, I realize I was wrong lol.

I was thinking about how if Chris's eyes are the chocolate chips, then the rest of him is the rest of the homemade cookie. He's warm, sweet, delightful, and enjoyable 😊🥰😋🤤 I also could indulge in him every day. He is a nice balance of consistent and surprising, sweet and silly, cute and sexy. For most of the time I've known him, I have kept thinking, "God, this man just seems too good to be true", but I stopped thinking that. I think that Chris is actually genuinely, decently good. I can rest. I can rest here in the safeness of this person and it makes me want to cry. Safety has been such a foreign concept to me, and it’s only one I’ve ever really found within myself. I don’t have much, but I have a roof over my head, a place that’s my own, and I’ve worked hard to become the person that I am today and that I’m still becoming. Growing up was always like walking on eggshells, on waiting to be told or shown how terrible I was. Growing into an adult wasn’t much different. While I have good friendships with people I do trust, mainly women, it is still not the same. It is not the same as this. Sometimes I feel weird writing all of this stuff about Chris. Scratch that, I always feel weird writing this stuff about Chris. I don’t know how he would feel reading it, seeing how this woman who barely knows him somehow has all of this beneath the surface and all because of him. I really don’t understand a lot of it. I wouldn’t even be able to explain. The things I’ve noticed about him and that I like, certainly, I can explain that stuff. But the things where I’m like, “Okay, so this weird thing happened” or “I just know”, those things I have no explanation for. Some of it I could try to rationalize, but other stuff, there’s nothing definitive to point to. It’s just there. It doesn’t make sense to me that it’s there, but it is, and I don’t want to feel sorry about that, but on some level I do, because I feel like it might be seen as very odd that I have all of this going on within me while in the physical realm nothing has progressed much to warrant all of that. I’m not forcing anything either; this all just keeps coming up. I have been very, very self-aware that my past self has at times put people on a pedestal and tried to make them fit into my idea of them, and so I’ve been keeping tabs on myself, making sure I’m not doing that, not building someone up inside my mind. I haven’t done that at all with Chris. I’ve simply been observing him, taking him at face-value as best I can, then all this stuff hit me out of nowhere without me looking for it or trying to make something happen. It’s natural. All of it. A part of me feels guilty, but it’s honestly been out of my control. I’m trying my best not to think about it and to just keep focusing on what I can control, but it still pops up here and there. I don’t know if the same thing is happening on Chris’s end, so in my mind I’m just like, “I’m sorry if this is weird 😭”. I have to trust it though. Nothing like this has ever happened to me. I’ve never met anyone like Chris. There’s definitely something there and despite not knowing for certain what it is, I’m going to lean into that. This is special. Chris is special. Those two things I’m certain of.

I’ve also always kind of had the mindset of questioning the good in my life. I’ve always wondered what makes me deserving of it. Even up until very recently, I’ve still had these thoughts. Somehow, I’ve been working through that without even intending to. By no longer questioning this, I’ve also found a shift within myself to acknowledge that if this really is a good thing, if Chris is really a good man, then I am deserving of all of it. Another thing I can’t explain, but being around Chris Thursday also seemed to really push me in that direction. When I fell asleep that night, that was part of that enoughness feeling. I don’t have to be a saint to have good things and good people in my life. I don’t need to be perfect in order for a good relationship and good person to enter my life. That might sound kind of stupid, but for me in a certain sense, it’s revelatory. And of course, it’s not just Chris. I have been working hard on releasing and healing certain things that have definitely been affecting this shift as well, so I don’t want to discount that because it would be doing myself a disservice. I’m excited to see what will come of this, but for now, I am just trying to enjoy where I’m at in the present on my own journey.

Since I've already hinted at it a few times, I'm going to transition into talking about my ADHD now. I am finally back on Strattera!!!!! In chronological order, I have been on: Strattera, Wellbutrin, Vyvanse, Concerta, and Adderall. For over a year now I have been trying one thing after another, getting mixed results and side effects. Strattera is the only thing that helped with all of my symptoms, but I had developed really bad Akathisia when I went up to 40 mg. So we are going to keep me at 25 mg for 2-3 months and see how I do on that. I’ve only been taking it again for 2 weeks, so it hasn’t kicked in yet. It usually takes about 6-8 weeks to notice any changes. Even if 25 mg doesn’t do anything, I know that 40 will, so that is something to look forward to, but we will just have to figure out what to do regarding the Akathisia. I could wait it out this time to see if it passes, because there’s a chance it might. My therapist also told me there is a medication to combat it, so I could ask my psychiatrist if she knows about that. While I’d rather not add another medication on top, I will if that’s what it takes. The relief that Strattera gave me was amazing. Nothing was difficult. I was able to do everything I wanted to in a day without wasting time lost in useless thoughts or mental resistance. My focus was insane, as was my productivity. I didn’t have several thoughts in my head bombarding me all at once. I didn’t get overstimulated, or lose track of my thoughts, or forget what I was talking about half-way through a sentence, or put something down and forget where I put it as soon as I leave the room, or get constantly distracted, or struggle with finding the right words, or space out and struggle with paying attention, or feel like every little task was this huge mountain to climb. Everything was so fucking easy and I remember thinking, “Oh okay, so this is what it’s like to be normal”. People without ADHD just do things, and that is such a foreign concept to me. I remember one night after work, I cooked dinner, ate, cleaned up, did yoga, read a book, and it was only 8:30 by the time I finished! Normally, just mustering up the energy to cook and eat will take me to like 7:00/7:30. What else I do in a night is a mystery to me because I rarely get anything done. Lately I’ve been making sure my headphones are charged so that I can pop on some music or podcasts. It’s literally the only way for me to push through and do stuff. It’s not full-proof, and I don't get everything done that I need to, but it’s better than nothing. I don’t know what it is, but maybe it gives me something else to focus on other than the task. It’s not even that I find stuff boring or don’t want to get stuff done, there’s just no dopamine in doing certain things, so it’s hard for me to initiate.

I had the pharmacogenetics test done back in February, but only recently a few weeks ago found out it came with a diagnostic portion. I looked over mine and there was one section in blue that stood out:

I thought seeing something like that would make me feel good, but it didn’t. On one hand, I had something to show my mom, who kept complaining about not having definitive “proof” of me having ADHD despite me having been evaluated and diagnosed by three separate psychiatrists over the last decade, but on the other hand, seeing it there made me feel like there was really something wrong with me. Like, I already knew that there was, but seeing it “on paper” hit a bit differently. I’ve been reading up a lot this past year on ADHD and a lot of things I never even knew were symptoms are. Certain things that I’ve always thought were character flaws are actually not that at all. It’s been simultaneously enlightening and depressing. I’ve also seen how other people, aside from my mom, react to me telling them I have ADHD. People give me a look, like they’re not sure whether to believe me, and I’ve even been asked, “Are you sure?”, as if I haven’t lived through this struggle every day of my life. There’s a reason why I have continued to pursue a diagnosis and treatment. I have read enough about ADHD to know that I have it, to look at my life and recognize that the things I struggle with daily are not my fault. None of it is some personal moral failings, it’s literally because I have a mental illness/disability that prevents me from living and acting in ways that are easy to others, and here was the proof of that, right before my eyes. Girls are less likely to be diagnosed with ADHD because they display symptoms differently from boys, even when the hyperactivity is active and recognizable, so many don’t get proper diagnosis until they reach adulthood. Growing up people around me always commented on how I was in my own world, I got called an airhead, I always got in trouble for not paying attention. Not a single adult in my life ever brought up that I might have ADHD. I know it was a different time when I was growing up, but it still hurts. I also really hate how people still treat mental health. My mental health shouldn’t be commented on, yet people make it their business to. Everyone thinks they’re a psychiatrist and that they have the right to affirm or deny another person’s diagnosis simply because of their own inflated sense of ego that tells them their opinion is fact and that just because they haven’t seen something means it must not exist. Acting like the brain can’t get sick is so stupid. It’s our most complex organ, yet people act like mental illnesses aren’t real or aren’t a big deal, despite the brain literally affecting everything. I can’t stand humanity sometimes.

There’s been a lot of studies done on the COMT genetic mutation and its association with ADHD. There’s different types of mutations and the one I have, the Val/Val mutation, has the highest connection to ADHD symptoms. That mutation is seen more in those with the external hyperactive symptoms, but it doesn’t mean that external hyperactivity will definitely be there. (I say external here because the “hyperactive” elements are still present in those with ADD subtype, it’s just that the hyperactivity is confined to the mind.) When this gene has the mutation of producing too many enzymes, then that means dopamine is getting processed too quickly in the prefrontal cortex, which is where executive functioning happens. Not enough dopamine means executive functioning skills become impaired. Those with low activity of the COMT enzymes don’t process dopamine in the prefrontal cortex quick enough, which means they are at risk for having higher levels of dopamine that can result in serotonin syndrome, which when left untreated, can be deadly. Now that I’m writing about this, it actually makes sense that Strattera, a reuptake inhibitor, has been more helpful for me than stimulants. Reuptake inhibitors prevent absorption from happening too quickly, but the stimulants simply raise dopamine levels. Since my problem is dopamine being processed too quickly, simply raising dopamine levels might not be good enough, or I might have to raise them a lot. It makes sense that a reuptake inhibitor would solve my problem better. Interesting.

My psychiatrist actually originally wanted to try me on Ritalin next if the Adderall didn’t work, but the Adderall ended up giving me a really bad flare up with my bladder disorder. My psychiatrist told me how stimulants can affect the bladder, but I forget what she said regarding why that happens. Regardless, she didn’t think it was a good idea to continue down the stimulant path because of that. I’m pretty sure they have my bladder disorder on record, but maybe she overlooked it. I didn’t react to Vyvanse or Concerta, but maybe cuz they were at lower doses. If I continued on those, I would have had to increase my dosage because the lower dosages weren’t cutting it. The Vyvanse made me crash though, so I wasn’t about to increase my dosage on that. The Concerta worked fairly well for what it helped with, but it wasn’t targeting as many symptoms as I would’ve liked. I know stimmies are a different breed from the non-stimmies, so I didn’t expect them to work as well as the Straterra, but I still wanted them to feel like they were worth taking, and I never felt that way. Apparently like 20-30% of people with ADHD aren’t really affected that much by stimmies, and I think I might fall into that bracket. Unlike the Straterra, the Welly-b didn’t do anything for me except increase my anxiety, and my dosage got upped like 2 or 3 times. Each time my anxiety just got worse but none of my ADHD symptoms improved. Strattera is pretty much my only option at this point, so I’m glad that I have previously seen success with it. It gives me something to look forward to.

When I was with my old psychiatrist, she did want to drop me back down to 25 mg, but I was very impatient (another symptom of ADHD). I had been wanting to switch to a different psych office for awhile, so it ended up working out in the end, and I am glad I got to try stimmies so I can see that they don’t work well enough for me. I feel like a lot of different parts of my life are finally coming together, and I know that it’s because this past year or so has really been about me learning to be okay with waiting and being patient, working through certain things, and also to stop pushing and allow myself to simply let go. Some periods are for healing, not striving. Some periods are for deep introspection and learning, not action. I feel like I do a pretty decent job of being objective when I need to be, but the past two years have really required me to take a good hard look at myself from a multiple angles to see where I am self-sabotaging and where I have been in my own way, what I’ve been avoiding, how I’ve been lying to myself, etc. There was something I said last night in therapy about all of this, but I don’t remember what it was. It was one of those prolific things that comes in a moment of deep wisdom, that after you say it it’s gone forever. That happens to me all the time when I teach. No two classes will ever be the same because of those deep, insightful moments. Maybe one day I will figure out a way to retain that wisdom, but for now, like a butterfly I managed to catch between my palms, it will continue to fly away from me the moment I open my palms.

I have been off Adderall for about 3 weeks or so, but I'm still trying to recover from it. It messed my sleep up so badly. I already don't get enough sleep, but with Adderall it got to the point where I was only sleeping 2-4 hours a night. I'm slowly getting back to my usual 5-6 hours. Hopefully being on Strattera will get me to a healthy 7-8. Usually 7.5 is perfect for me, but that hasn't happened for a long time. I was thinking about how I don’t really have any big thing to move through atm. For the longest time, I was focusing on specific things, and now I’m just like, “Okay, what next?”. It’s probably a bit of a problem that I really don’t know what to do with myself unless I’m working through some major thing I’m dealing with. I know there’s still stuff to work through, but nothing is really asking for my attention right now. It feels weird. I think though that maybe I can use this time for extra rest, to simply focus on how I can handle some of my ADHD symptoms and to focus on restoring my sleep. That doesn’t feel quite **big** enough to garner all of my attention, even though it is very important, but I'm trying to get myself into the mindset of allowing myself to enjoy a period where I’m not working so hard. I can rest. It is okay for me to rest. (Side note: I wrote this section during my lunch today, then later, one of the tarot readers I follow posted her Friday current energy check-in, and she actually mentioned what I was talking about here for the Libra reading, which is me 😁 Ali was one of the first tarot readers I’ve ever followed, because she uses tarot correctly, so not as any sort of future-predicting kind of thing, but reading what’s there and then giving actionable advice on it. I only follow a few readers, and she’s one of them because she’s very insightful and most of the time I find her readings to be accurate in regards to my own life. Here’s the video from today: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l0--6Z4dKGY)

In a sense though, this is a really big thing for me to take on. It takes me at least 2-3 times as long as it takes non-ADHD people to do stuff because I have to push through mental barriers, I continuously get distracted, I start something then don’t finish it, and I have so many thoughts about one thing that it makes completing a task take so much longer. Lately I have been trying to keep up with cleaning and tidying as well as going through my entire apartment and getting rid of stuff, so that means I do not have the time or mental energy to focus on other things, like cooking good meals and attending to my hobbies like I want to. Unfortunately, focusing on one thing means everything else gets neglected a bit. If I try to focus on everything, nothing will get done, so this is a necessary sacrifice. My poems have been suffering a lot. I’m not up to par and I’ve been mostly writing haikus, senryus, and lunes most days. Writing every day has been a good way to process a lot going on in my life, the good and the bad, and I’ve been enjoying seeing what can come out of me. I wrote about my friend who had inappropriately touched me without my consent, and it’s interesting because one of the lines reminded me of something Chris said to me at my appointment with him. He said, “You have really pointy canine teeth. Did you know that?”, which of course I did lol. (He might not have said canine but several of my teeth there are really pointy, so it still stands.) I asked him if people ever came in to get the vampire teeth done and he talked a bit about that. In the poem I just mentioned I wrote, “I run my tongue across my teeth and wish I could feel daggers”. I wrote it as a way to express wishing for a natural defense mechanism against predators, which in this case would be a man. I wrote this two weeks before my appointment with Chris. There’s been quite a few things he’s said to me where it related to something I had been thinking about recently. It’s interesting.

I wrote a poem a little over a week ago about my Uncle Albert after asking my dad some questions about him during a phone conversation. He was a Libra, born on September 24, 1964, so I was right about that. My dad didn’t share a whole lot, as it was making him a bit emotional since he’s been dealing with the death of his girlfriend, but he did tell me how my Uncle Albert took home ec class in high school and how much of a terrible baker he was. I was also a terrible baker too. I wrote that in my poem, then added, “the difference is I grew old enough to get better at it”. My uncle committed suicide when he was 21. I realized something in regards to that too. So my Unlce Albert was 21, I’m fairly positive my cousin John John was 22 when he was murdered, I was 23 when I attempted suicide (though obviously I didn’t die), and my cousin Vincent was 24 when he died. None of that probably means anything, I just thought it was interesting. My brain is always trying to find connections like that. Anyway, before I began writing my poem, I just kinda put that message out there, “If you’re here, could you tell me somehow?”, then I immediately noticed the Amazon bag I had thrown on my armchair. I thought maybe it would fall off or something since it was kinda teetering on the edge. So I go down onto the floor laying on my belly, propped up on a pillow, and I’m writing away. Then when I finish, I put my pen down, and literally a second later, the Amazon bag makes a loud popping noise. I’m not sure that that is definitive “proof” of anything, but it was oddly specific. I didn’t go anywhere near the bag before I started writing, and it had been sitting there for like two days cuz I kept forgetting about it, so it wasn’t like I touched it recently or anything. I have had only smaller experiences with the other side, nothing really too crazy, though Idk what is within the normal range of what other people have experienced. I decided to sign up for this Mediumship event happening at the end of June. The guy who does them occasionally had them at the yoga studio I trained under and taught at before it closed. The owner, Barbara, was very particular about who she allowed to teach or have events at her studio, and she raved about this guy’s abilities. I always wanted to go to check it out, but never really felt “called” to do so until now. I do have some hesitation about fully believing because this guy is not just communicating with the other side in regards to himself, he’s communicating with spirits connected to other people. Then I started thinking about how I’ve had crazy experiences and apparently have spiritual abilities not everyone has that other people would probably doubt me on, so fuck it. I’ll indulge. So yeah, I’m hoping that someone comes through for me. That would be nice. I mentioned it to Joyce yesterday and she said she’s actually doing a private mediumship event in July to see if Craig comes through. I told her I would let her know how mine goes since I’ll be attending mine first. The one I’m going to isn’t private, but it is capped at 28 attendees. It’s 2 hours, but not everyone gets a message from him either because of time constraints or no one comes through. I’m crossing my fingers for myself.

So this post was not supposed to be this long 😅 I originally only intended to write about the most important things from my appointment with Chris, but ended up writing about a good 80-90% of it lol. Everything felt important. I think also because my posts about him for a while have mostly been just me overthinking everything, so it was nice to write about some good stuff happening. I can’t wait to see what happens next 🥰

#this was 15 pages in google docs #i'm a little insane #it's a jumbled mess #not in chronological order #no smooth transitions #i also switch between past and present tenses a lot #but this is too long to edit all of that #anyway going to watch lisa frankenstain and have some drinks #last week was great 🥰#chris #uncle albert #adhd #personal

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physalian · 2 months

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How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3

Crazy how one impulsive post has quickly outshined every other post I have made on this blog. Anyway here’s more to consider. Once again, I am recirculating tried-and-true writing advice that shouldn’t have to compromise your author voice and isn’t always applicable when the narrative demands otherwise.

Part 1

Part 2

1. Eliminating to-be verbs (passive voice)

Am/is/are/was/were are another type of filler that doesn’t add anything to your sentences.

There were fireworks in the sky tonight. /// Fireworks glittered in the sky tonight.

My cat was chirping at the lights on the ceiling. /// My cat chirped at the lights on the ceiling.

She was standing /// She stood

He was running /// He ran

Also applicable in present tense, of which I’ve been stuck writing lately.

There are two fish-net goals on either end of the improvised field. /// Two fish-net goals mark either end of the improvised field.

For once, it’s a cloudless night. /// For once, the stars shine clear.

Sometimes the sentence needs a little finagling to remove the bad verb and sometimes you can let a couple remain if it sounds better with the cadence or syntax. Generally, they’re not necessary and you won’t realize how strange it looks until you go back and delete them (it also helps shave off your word count).

Sometimes the to-be verb is necessary. You're writing in past-tense and must convey that.

He was running out of time does not have the same meaning as He ran out of time, and are not interchangeable. You'd have to change the entire sentence to something probably a lot wordier to escape the 'was'. To-be verbs are not the end of the world.

2. Putting character descriptors in the wrong place

I made a post already about motivated exposition, specifically about character descriptions and the mirror trope, saying character details in the wrong place can look odd and screw with the flow of the paragraph, especially if you throw in too many.

She ties her long, curly, brown tresses up in a messy bun. /// She ties her curls up in a messy brown bun. (bonus alliteration too)

Generally, I see this most often with hair, a terrible rule of threes. Eyes less so, but eyes have their own issue. Eye color gets repeated at an exhausting frequency. Whatever you have in your manuscript, you could probably delete 30-40% of the reminders that the love interest has baby blues and readers would be happy, especially if you use the same metaphor over and over again, like gemstones.

He rolled his bright, emerald eyes. /// He rolled his eyes, a vibrant green in the lamplight.

To me, one reads like you want to get the character description out as fast as possible, so the hand of the author comes in to wave and stop the story to give you the details. Fixing it, my way or another way, stands out less as exposition, which is what character descriptions boil down to—something the audience needs to know to appreciate and/or understand the story.

3. Lacking flow between sentences

Much like sentences that are all about the same length with little variety in syntax, sentences that follow each other like a grocery list or instruction manual instead of a proper narrative are difficult to find gripping.

Jack gets out a stock pot from the cupboard. He fills it with the tap and sets it on the stove. Then, he grabs russet potatoes and butter from the fridge. He leaves the butter out to soften, and sets the pot to boil. He then adds salt to the water.

From the cupboard, Jack drags a hefty stockpot. He fills it with the tap, adds salt to taste, and sets it on the stove.

Russet potatoes or yukon gold? Jack drums his fingers on the fridge door in thought. Russet—that’s what the recipe calls for. He tosses the bag on the counter and the butter beside it to soften.

This is just one version of a possible edit to the first paragraph, not the end-all, be-all perfect reconstruction. It’s not just about having transitions, like ‘then’, it’s about how one sentence flows into the next, and you can accomplish better flow in many different ways.

4. Getting too specific with movement.

I don’t see this super often, but when it happens, it tends to be pretty bad. I think it happens because writers feel the need to overcompensate and over-clarify on what’s happening. Remember: The more specific you get, the more your readers are going to wonder what’s so important about these details. This is fiction, so every detail matters.

A ridiculous example:

Jack walks over to his closet. He kneels down at the shoe rack and tugs his running shoes free. He walks back to his desk chair, sits down, and ties the laces.

Unless tying his shoes is a monumental achievement for this character, all readers would need is:

Jack shoves on his running shoes.

*quick note: Do not add "down" after the following: Kneels, stoops, crouches, squats. The "down" is already implied in the verb.

This also happens with multiple movements in succession.

Beth enters the room and steps on her shoelace, nearly causing her to trip. She kneels and ties her shoes. She stands upright and keeps moving.

Beth walks in and nearly trips over her shoelace. She sighs, reties it, and keeps moving.

Even then, unless Beth is a chronically clumsy character or this near-trip is a side effect of her being late or tired (i.e. meaningful), tripping over a shoelace is kind of boring if it does nothing for her character. Miles Morales’ untied shoelaces are thematically part of his story.

Sometimes, over-describing a character’s movement is meant to show how nervous they are—overthinking everything they’re doing, second-guessing themselves ad nauseam. Or they’re autistic coded and this is how this character normally thinks as deeply methodical. Or, you’re trying to emphasize some mundanity about their life and doing it on purpose.

If you’re not writing something where the extra details service the character or the story at large, consider trimming it.

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These are *suggestions* and writing is highly subjective. Hope this helps!

#writing #writing resources #writing advice #writing tips #writing a book #writing tools #writeblr #for beginners #story structure #book formatting

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sardonic-the-writer · 4 months

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𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐝 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞'𝐬 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦

↳ summary: the x-men can't seem to leave you alone, even if you've made it clear that you want nothing to do with them. as a last-ditch effort, they send logan, who's a little different than the rest

↳ notes: man writing this fucked me up. i kept editing it because i didn't like how it sounded, so some feedback would be much appreciated

↳ warnings: mentions of blowing things up in a past instance, but no one died. reader is a mutant and their powers are kept ambiguous, but it is implied they can somehow cause explosions

↳ song: promiscuous—nelly furtado

masterlist | commissions | carrd

The first time they sent someone, you had been excepting it

You weren't dumb. You knew the difference between an innocent bystander and a hired gun; or at least something along those lines. The way people walked talked and carried themselves was always a dead giveaway, and recently you had been surrounded by a few too many intense stares and stiff shoulders for your liking. A lot more than you were used to, in fact. Maybe that's what prompted you to start taking a new way home from work instead of the usual combination of cross walks and dirty bus seats.

The quick guy with silver hair was their first attempt at contact. You had found him waiting outside your apartment for you to get home all but a week after noticing the new attention on you, and you would have ignored him too if it wasn't for the fact that he was sitting on the outside your balcony, kicking his feet merrily off the side about ten stories above the pavement below without a care in the world. And with what looked like a twinkie in his hand, too.

You'd closed the blinds without a second thought, tossing him a fake grin and a little wave when he eventually turned around as you slammed them shut. You were fairly certain he could have stopped you in no time flat, if the way you would watch him zip away in the blink of an eye later said anything, but you took a heat-of-the-moment gamble and were satisfied when all your efforts got was a whine from the other side of your window pane. His mouth was too full of pre-packaged pastry to say anything in the moment, you realized

"Not interested." You called over your back as you began to retreat into your kitchen without another moments notice.

"You haven't even heard what I want!" He said thickly, clearly trying to swallow as he spoke. You must have startled him a little then. Good.

"And I don't need to."

He left a few minutes later when his one sided conversationalist skills got him no where, and you responded by throwing a frozen pizza in the lower half of your oven.

You had been craving pepperoni all day anyway.

The second person try was a bit more aggressive.

They didn't have the decency to wait for you to come home this time. Instead, you found yourself looking up from your laptop as a chair was pulled out across from you at the quaint table you sat at. It made a scraping noise, and you tensed the muscles in your hands for a moment at the sound.

"Can I help you." Your eyebrow quirked up as you looked at the woman across from you. She had blonde hair, and what you thought were the brownest eyes you had even seen. You had trouble looking anywhere but into them for a second. When they hit the light, you swore they turned yellow just for a moment, and she looked about as annoyed as you were that she was sitting by you. You didn't have to wait long to find out why.

"We've been trying to reach you." The surrounding noise of the café hardly disturbed the hard tone in her voice. "You're avoiding us."

At least this time these people had the common sense to approach you in public. If you were any form of confrontational, which you very much weren't, you could have started a fight the last time. Who knows if you would have won against super speed and whatever else the first guy had— you weren't exactly sure about the extent of his powers, and at this point didn't care —but the point remains that some damage could have been done. Now, in the middle of a coffee shop on a busy afternoon, it would be a bit harder to start a fight. Not that you were seriously concidering it. If anything, you wanted to duck into a large crowd just to loose this new recruiter, or whatever they were called. You didn't exactly know if they had a name for this type of situation.

"I have no idea who you are." Your tone matched her own, dealing out the half lie nonchalantly. You weren't technically wrong, really. You didn't know her, nor did you know that other man that had shown up before. But you knew what they wanted, and you'd be damned if they didn't pin you down without a bit of a struggle.

Moving with a speed quick enough to get your message across, but not fast enough as to alert any of the surrounding coustomers that something was up, you closed your laptop, abandoned your now lukewarm drink, and started for the door. You only paused in your movements after a weight settled over the back of your shoulder, and you carefully turned your neck to look down at the hand resting firmly on you.

"I don't recommend doing that." You said with a bit of a warning tone in your voice, looking her right in the eyes as you did so. They had since shifted from dark brown to an almost hazel shade, and you filed that information away for later use.

Her grip remained where it was for a moment. Then a thought seemed to cross her mind, and she let go of her hold on your shirt; even if a bit reluctantly.

You didn't stick around to see if anything else would happen. You just made your way out of the shop and into the bustling street, not caring if she followed. They already knew where you lived anyway.

"Taxi!!"

The final person they sent for you, you hadn't seen coming.

Every other time— from the teleporting blue kid, to the woman with white hair and fair skin, and even the tall guy in glasses that had turned a little blue when you pushed your way past him —you had been able to prepare beforehand. At the very least you were able to lock your doors before going out and about your day. You knew that wouldn't stop them in the slightest, but it was a silent message to stay out of your business.

But this guy? This guy just didn't care at all.

"You know, you're really nailing this first impression thing."

A gruff voice sprang to life at the same moment that your hallway lights did, doing a fine job at catching you off guard. You managed to not jump, but with the way the intruders lips tilted up, you figured he knew he had surprised you.

"Oh, fuck my life."

You were really not feeling like another impromptu visit tonight. You had gotten home from a rough day of work a couple of hours ago, only to realize that you had finally blown through all your food, and was once more sent back out into the city to look for a grocery store. You had been looking forward to finally resting your feet, and maybe your eyes a few hours earlier than planned, and you most certainly weren't in the right state of mind to entertain this hulking figure of a man and the proposition that came with him.

You looked at him harshly. He had muscles for days, and a brown leather jacket to accentuate just how large he was. You knew for a fact that he was a few weight classes up from the last guy that had been sent to your house, and you wondered if this was their way of trying to intimidate you into forcefully accepting their offer.

Tiny scars dotted his face and the skin on his neck. You wondered why there were so few, considering that you already knew what he did for a living, but also knew better than to question someone like him. Especially since he was already standing in the doorway to your home, looking like he owned the place.

"Go away." You didn't grant him any sort of emotion in your voice as you walked in the direction of your fridge. The plastic bags full of your food for the week swung in your arms, and for a moment you thought this new guy was going to block your way into the rest of the house before he backed off with a roll of his shoulders.

You clocked his broad chest and bruised knuckles out of the corner of your eyes as you opened the ice box and slowly placed some frozen veggies in side by side. He had either gotten here straight from a fight, or was itching for one. You figured it was probably the former considering he hadn't jumped you the second you walked through the door. Or you know, maybe he just had fucked up hands. You could never tell with people at this point.

"You're pleasant." The mans wry smile was nothing but headache educing as you finished putting the cold groceries up. You snorted with hollow amusement.

"Try being stalked for a month and a half. It really makes you feel like being hospitable."

"Try being the guy that gets sent to get in contact with you. It ain't exactly the way I wanted to be spending my Friday night either." He parroted back your words while running a hand down his face and across what you had since recognized as mutton chops in the process.

"When are you going to tell that professor of yours that I'm not interested in his little passion project." You think that might have been the first time you ever directly acknowledged what exactly was going on. Every other time you had just told the other person to get lost or slammed a door in their face to really get the point across, but the way this guy was looking at you gave you the feeling that he wouldn't be as easy to shoo away as the others, and you weren't really feeling up for a giant display of effort right about now.

"You could always tell him yourself, bub." His eyes followed your face as you crossed the room to stop in front of him, hand outstretched with something that ignited a small smirk on his face.

"Trying to bribe me?" He asked, going to take the fresh beer you offered him all the same. You shook your head.

"No. My master plan actually consists of getting you shit-faced drunk so you guys will finally leave me alone." You watched as his hand hesitated in mid-air slightly, and you misinterpreted his silent amusement at your jab for skepticism. "I've just got too much beer and a stranger in my apartment that's not going to leave me alone anytime soon, that’s all." You relented with a shrug.

"Fair enough." He took the brown bottle by the neck and popped open the top without so much as looking around for a bottle opener. When the cap went rushing to the floor less than a second later, you squinted.

"What are you then? Super strong? Or is your power alcoholism." That got a rough chuckle out of him. He swallowed about half of the bottle in one go before answering, and you sucked at your teeth as he did so.

"Something like that."

"Wow. Really feeling the comradery here." You didn't miss the way he deadpanned at that, and you figured he was thinking about all of the times you had kicked every other pursuer to the curb without even letting them get a word in edge wise. Still, you pushed on. "Remind me how its fair that you and your friends know all about me, but I have a new hero-of-the-week showing up on my doorstep every other day without so much as a clue as to what they could do to me?"

"About as fair as your little accident in Colorado." He responded without a seconds hesitation. You felt a little perspiration form on the back of your neck, and chalked it up to the lack of a.c in the room. Even if it was anything but.

"If you're here to try and convince me to join your little superhero team, I hate to tell you, but it isn't going to work. Just like it didn't work the past ten times." You ignored his last comment and made yourself comfortable on your living room couch. "Do you have a name? I've never really stuck around to talk to one of you this long before, and it's annoying to keep rendering to you as 'some guy' in my head."

He paused abruptly while drinking the beer, and you barely held back from rolling your eyes at his change in mood.

"It's Logan." He finally bit out reluctantly. You got the feeling that the only reason he told you was because he was here by request. If it has been any other circumstances, you had no doubts that he would have told you to fuck off. He gave off that energy.

"You already know mine, so I'm not gonna bother." You kicked your feet up and let your head hit the back of the couch with a sigh. "Just let me know when you finally get bored and head out. I want to make sure my landlord knows to blacklist you from the building after you're gone."

"Is this how you got everyone else to leave? By annoying them to death?" Logan sounded more entertained then you would have liked, and you blamed it on the beer.

"Depends. Is it working?"

"I've been sleeping at a school filled with screaming kids for the past few weeks. You're going to have to try harder than that to get me out of here." He took another swig.

"What will it take to get you to leave me alone. All of you." Your voice dipped out of it's usually casual tone for a more annoyed one. You were used to playing the long game when it came to getting people to leave you alone, but at this point it was getting ridiculous with the amount of people that they were throwing at you, and it was starting to wear you out. You weren't sure if Logan could tell your patience was being tested, and you weren't sure if you wanted him to.

Logan raised one eyebrow in your direction as an answer to your question, and you sighed.

"I'm not taking a stupid fucking spot on the X-Men if that's what you're implying. What do I have to do to convince you guys that I'm not up for it; blow up a building on accident or something?" The word 'again' went unsaid, but the implication was there.

You watched as Logan seemed to throw something around in his mind for a moment.

"Do you want to know why I joined the X-Men?" He eventually asked.

"Because you had nothing else to do with yourself other than styling your hair real stupid? Seriously what's with this horn thing you've got going in."

"I joined because they helped pull me off a dark path, kid." He barreled past your sarcasm, shutting you down quicker than you would like to admit. His tone was laced with something you recognized all as hatred, and you knew it wasn't directed at you, but rather himself. You knew the feeling all too well.

"I was running from something that I didn't even know I was trying to avoid." He continued. "And if it wasn't for the Professor and his 'stupid fucking team', I wouldn't have ever stopped."

For the first time in the past few minutes, you allowed one of your walls to come down as he spoke. You stared at him with a tired look lingering behind your gaze, choosing this time to listen rather than to ignore.

"I'm not running from anything." Even as you said it, you knew it was a lie. Logan didn't even have to look at you for you to sigh and lean forward again.

"I can see why the Professor wants you on the team." You felt the cushions on the opposite end of your couch dip slowly as he sat down. The now empty beer bottle was still in his hand, but as you looked over at Logan, you found his eyes filled to the brim with nothing but the honest truth.

It was a strange, tense moment. Both you and Logan could admit that. You were clearly filled with regret for your past actions, no matter how accidental they might have been, and conflicted with yourself because of it. Logan could do nothing more but watch as you battled with yourself over his words. His original plan had been to come here, show off a claw or two if needed, and bring you back to the school with a characteristic scowl on his face. But all that was thrown out the window when you offered him a beer, and when he was finally able to get a good look at you.

You looked exactly how he used to before one of his old cage matches. Detached and losing yourself. He could see it in your eyes.

The room delved into silence. You wrung your hands together and planted your feet. Logan watched as you seemed to have a silent conversation with yourself, and he began to regret not pacing himself with the beer. He wasn't anywhere near affected by the alcohol, that's to say. He just wished he had something to do other than sit in your home with squared shoulders and a furrowed brow.

"If I took one trip over to the place, would you guys let up on whatever this is?" You finally asked. Logan pushed down a faint smirk as you turned your neck to look at him.

"Sure."

You didn't say anything else, and you didn't have to. You got up without another word and grabbed a bag from a nearby closet. Logan found himself leaning on your doorframe as you stuffed a few essentials down into your travel bag in the room over, and he remained there until you finished.

"Still curious about my powers?" Logan decided to bait you just a little further as you shut the door to your apartment with a click of your keys, and he had trouble keeping a straight face when you looked back at him with curiosity dancing across your features.

Without saying anything, he held one of his hands up, and let you watch as his trademark claws popped up slowly. Like seasonal weeds in a garden full of flowers. The appendages let out a slight sliding noise as they did so, and you blinked once. Twice. Three times.

"And I thought my powers were bad." You finally said after a moment, and Logan scoffed at you.

"Kid, everyone thinks their powers are bad at first."

You seemed to take that as a challenge, and Logan watched as a bit of that fire that he'd heard about from Storm and the others flared up in you.

"Yeah? You ever accidently blow up a boiler room and take out half your high school's classes, big guy?" Your grin was all teeth as the two of you made your way down the complex hallway. Logan slowed his pace so you could keep up, and turned around so he could fully look at you as he walked backwards.

"Big guy?" He questioned you with a tilted of his head, looking about as unimpressed as he could.

"I mean yeah." You snickered. "Just look at your, well, everything." You took to gesturing at his entire being, something that got you a huff from the other man.

"Maybe you're just small." He shot back. You laughed and shook your head, looking down at yourself. Yeah right.

"And maybe I'm right, and you're just freakishly big."

Your banter continued all the way down to the elevator, where you had a hard time holding in your laughter as Logan accidentally almost stabbed the down button with his claws, apparently having forgotten that they were even out.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was always like this; if everyone at the school was like this.

Maybe going for a visit wasn't as much as a bad idea as you'd thought.

#xmen #xmen x reader #xmen x you #xmen x y/n #wolverine #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #wolverine x y/n #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett x y/n #peter maximoff #mystique #charles xavier #x reader #one shot

1K notes · View notes

annwrites · 5 months

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exactly what he needs, pt. 2 ♡ ⋆｡˚

— pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: you & nate hang out in your room (after he snoops through it right in front of you), then ask each other questions, & he dresses & does your hair before you head out to spend the evening together.

— tags: conversing, getting to know one another

— tw: sexualization, lying (nate manipulating the truth), dollification

— word count: 6.2k

— a/n: I edited this numerous times, but fucked myself over by writing part 1 in present-tense to begin with, which I'm not always great at. So, if I messed up the tenses anywhere, please ignore it. Going forward, I'll probably be publishing further installments in past-tense.

Next post will be reader & Nate going shopping & having dinner!

The next morning when you wake, it only takes a few minutes for you to remember that Nate will be there in a little less than an hour, and the nerves immediately set in.

Surely people will see you getting out of his truck. What will they think?

You shake your head. It doesn't matter. Not really, anyway. You don't much care what any one person of the student population thinks of you.

You know high school is just a blip—a very brief moment in time, where it seems like every little thing you experience can be the end of the world, but it's really all just the beginning.

People will think whatever they like. It's not your job to try and change their minds. Not that trying to do as much would work anyway.

Once you've quickly showered, dressed, pulled your hair into a high ponytail to keep it out of your way, and eaten breakfast, you don't even have time to wait by the door as Nate's truck pulls up. You quickly pull on a pair of boots and step outside, locking the door behind you.

When you look up, your stomach does a flip when you see Nate holding the passenger-side door open for you.

You walk over to him. "You don't have to get my door for me, you know."

He shrugs, taking your backpack from you, setting it in the backseat with his. "I want to."

You tell him thank you as you climb inside and he shuts the door behind you.

Once you're on the road, he's the first to break the silence. "You can listen to whatever you want on the radio."

In truth, it's a bit too early for music for you. "I'm ok."

"Did you eat already?"

You nod. "I had a bowl of cereal."

He gives a slight frown. Not a very healthy start to your day. Something full of sugar.

"Do you want me to pick you up something on the way?"

Your eyes go wide. "Oh, no, I'm fine. Thank you, though. It's nice of you to offer."

He decides tomorrow he's bringing you breakfast, and he won't be asking for permission beforehand.

You're both silent again for a moment and the truck slows as he pulls up to a red light. He briefly wonders if you know how to drive. If not, he'd be a more than willing teacher.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to ask you something personal. If you do, just tell me to fuck off and you don't have to answer."

You look at him. "Ok..."

The light turns green and the truck picks up speed again. "I noticed neither of your parents were home yesterday. Were they both at work?"

You grow quiet for a moment, a pregnant pause settling between the two of you as you look out the window at the passing houses.

"My dad was...is. He travels a lot for work, so he's not home much."

He nods, deeming it good news, at least for him. "And your mom?"

You're quiet for even longer this time. Then, "I've never met her."

Minus Lexi, you've already divulged more to him in that short sentence than you have to anyone else at East Highland.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He's not sure that he means it. He despises both of his parents and, if anything, in this moment, is envious of you, due to your lack of relationship with both of yours.

You shrug. "It's fine."

He wants more than just 'it's fine'. He wants to know more, as it's clear it's something which bothers you. He wants you to give him emotional vulnerability for just a moment. Something he can use in the future to work his way in closer to you.

"Do you know anything about her?"

You shake your head. "My dad refuses to talk about her. After a few fights when I was younger where I tried to get him to, I gave up. It's probably for the best. She made her choice, and I think me knowing anything about her would just make things...more difficult. My life, I mean."

Even if you still felt like you were chasing shadows sometimes.

He nods. If nothing else, it's one less person he'll have to go through to be with you. Two less, from the sound of things.

Finally, he turns into the school parking lot, taking his usual spot and he shuts the truck off.

"I'll get your door for you," he states before getting out.

You unbuckle yourself, not sure what to think of his insistence with the whole door thing. It just doesn't seem to be something men much concern themselves with anymore—getting a girl's door for her—at least not teenage boys, that is. But perhaps he's different. Maybe it's just the way he was raised.

Nate opens your door and grabs his backpack, sliding it over his shoulders, then grabbing yours as well.

You get out and go to take it from him, but he continues holding it.

"Turn around."

Your brows furrow for a moment, but do as he's asked. You quickly realize what he's doing and adjust your arms as he slides your bag onto your back. He's really going the extra mile to be a gentleman, you think.

Once the truck's doors are closed and he's locked the vehicle, he places his hand against the small of your back as you walk into school together.

You look perfectly calm on the outside, but on the inside, your anxiety levels are rising with each pair of eyes turning your and Nate's way.

When you spot Lexi, the look on her face is nothing short of bewildered. Next to her sits Cassie, who's fuming.

You're torn away from looking in their direction by Nate coming to stand in front of you. "See you in third period."

You nod and give him a small smile, going to sit with Lexi, despite Cassie giving you that same glare from yesterday. A worse one, really.

"What the hell was that?" Lexi asks, her tone full of concern as you sit down beside her, setting your bag on the table.

"Nothing. He just drove me to school, that's all."

"And home," Cassie says, voice full of malice.

Lexi looks from her sister, then back to you. "The two of you are not hooking up."

You flush. "No. He just gave me a ride, that's all."

"Ok, but why would he do that? The two of you never talk. You're not even friends."

You do your best to ignore Cassie's unsettling stare.

"I'm just—" You immediately shut your mouth. You should've thought further ahead, should've thought about what excuse you would give people when they inevitably ask why the two of you are hanging out all of a sudden.

Nate asked you to keep it a secret and you aren't about to betray his confidence. If you do, you're sure he'll fail and never bother asking for help again.

"Just what?" Lexi prods.

"We're just hanging out. It's not a big deal. I promise."

Suddenly, Cassie stands, angrily grabbing her bag, jerking it off the table and storming away.

Lexi rolls her eyes. "Just ignore her. I don't know why she's still hung up on him, anyway. He treated her like crap." She shifts in her seat, facing fully toward you now. "What I can believe even less, however, is the fact you're giving him the time of day. He's an asshole. He was abusive toward Maddy and wanted to keep screwing Cassie so long as she kept it a secret. He uses people, Y/N."

Abusive? You knew he and Maddy had argued quite a bit, but nothing that severe.

"What do you mean by abusive?"

She shrugs. "I don't know much, since she and Cassie obviously aren't friends anymore. But I know a good portion of it, at least, was emotional. Maybe verbal, too. Then again, I don't think she was any better." Lexi glances behind you, and you don't dare turn around, now worried the subject of your conversation is who she's looking at. "She gives as good as she gets."

Once the school day is over and you go to drop off your books at your locker, you find Nate leaning up against it.

He smiles when he sees you and you give him a shy smile in return.

You put your things away, then look to Nate.

In truth, what Lexi told you had gotten to you a bit. You try to tell yourself that it's all nothing more than hearsay, and you're only tutoring—not dating him—so whatever had occurred between he and Maddy and Cassie is none of your concern.

"You ready?"

You nod, and, just like this morning, he places his hand firmly against your back.

Once you're in his truck, you notice Maddy staring at you today, just a few cars away. She and Kat are both looking in your direction, Maddy clearly getting worked up and Kat obviously trying to calm her down, and your eyes widen when she begins heading in Nate's direction.

Before she can reach him, however, he gets in the truck and pulls out of the lot, leaving her standing there, staring after the two of you.

You're glad whatever was about to happen has just been avoided.

Over the next week, you and Nate go to your house every day after school to study. You gradually get to know more about one another, like you learning he has a brother—which you'd somehow managed to forget over the years—and he tells you how passionate he is about personal fitness, something to which you don't much relate.

It'd been abundantly clear since day one that he dislikes his father. But that dislike—even if he talks about him very little—clearly, somewhere along the way, became loathing. It's all in the tone he uses, the language he uses when he's brought up.

But the thing that always seems to calm him—make him happier—is talking about you.

He asks you every question in the book: favorite food, color, flower, song, type of music, art, what you want to be when you graduate, the kind of house you want to live in. The list is endless.

And then the day came when he asked to see your room, with you standing awkwardly in the doorway as he surveys every inch.

He starts with your bed, your fluffy white comforter with small pink flowers printed across it, and your plethora of pillows. And then he notices the small brown teddy bear leaned back against said pillows. He briefly picks it up, smirking to himself, then looking at you.

“Do you sleep with this?”

Your face goes blood-red. “Y-yes.”

He studies it for a moment longer, making a mental note to one day buy you one himself, wanting you to sleep with one that’s come from him instead.

In truth, while you think about you sleeping with a stuffed animal as embarrassing—at least for another person to now know about—it’s a major fucking turn-on for him. You’re that innocent that you still sleep with a teddy.

He sets it back down, throwing a “that’s very sweet” your way before moving on to your bookshelves.

Not that he’s read or heard of the grand majority of the novels you have, he can tell by the titles and covers alone that they’re all either romance or fantasy. He supposes he understands that: you trying to escape through stories. Stories where you can go somewhere else, be someone else. Have a new family, new friends.

And then he thinks it incredibly sad—just how lonely you are.

It’s not like he isn’t already aware of it, because he is—has became more and more so as the last week has gone on. Everyday he’s come to your house it’s been empty. But to see your shelves crammed full of books—your one attempt at escaping into a better life—he vows in that moment to start working faster at bringing the two of you together into a relationship.

You need him.

You like stories about princesses trapped in towers and white knights coming to save them? Then that’s exactly what he’ll be for you. He’ll rescue you from the lonely hell you’re living in and give himself to you fully. He’ll dedicate all of his time that he can to you. And he plans to spoil you fucking rotten.

He looks over the various trinkets you have set on—and on top of—those shame shelves. Porcelain figurines of unicorns and cats, a small jeweled crown, some candles and a few faux plants.

He turns back to you. “Which one is your favorite?”

You shift nervously from one foot to the other. “The Lord of the Rings, actually. I…I really like Éowyn and Faramir’s story.”

He nods.

He’s never watched the movies, and has obviously never read the book, so he makes a mental note to at least do some reading on the characters you’ve mentioned to understand you better.

He then looks over your entertainment center and the small collection of DVDs you have alphabetically organized in one of the cubbies. Beauty and the Beast, Ever After, Stardust, The Last Unicorn, The Princess Bride, among a few others.

He then steps over to your closet and pulls the doors open without even asking your permission first.

You don’t much react to him doing so, supposing that everything in there you’ve worn to school at some point anyway.

He’s met with skirts and sweaters and dress blouses. Another thing he’s going to have to change—your wardrobe. It isn’t exactly “frumpy”, but it isn’t feminine enough for his taste, either. He wants your clothes to reflect who you truly are. Sun and baby doll dresses, and tennis skirts with the right pretty tops will suit you far better. Sandals and delicate flats. Your hair curled and actually down for once, perhaps with a bow in it. And he’ll buy you a few nice pieces of expensive jewelry as well. Maybe take you on a shopping trip to Tiffany one day.

He closes the doors in front of him.

What he really wants is to go through not just your bedside table, but also the top drawers of your dresser. He's curious if you've ventured into the territory of lingerie and sex-toys yet. And if so, what your preferences are.

He doesn't like to imagine you using more than a vibrator on your clit to get yourself to orgasm. As for lingerie, he doubts that you own any, but he often pictures you in lacy panties and pastel teddy nightgowns.

He adds such things to his mental shopping list of things to one day buy you.

Speaking of orgasms, however, he'd come thinking of you nearly every night for the past week.

He imagined you on his bed, naked, your pussy soaked for him, your legs spread wide as he teased you until you were begging for him to put himself inside of you.

He imagined all the things he'd teach you in bed, sure that you're inexperienced.

And only after you promised him that you're his—belonged to him and wanted no one and nothing else but him—did he finally join your two bodies together.

Finally, he sits on the edge of your bed. He then glances to the chair which hangs from the ceiling in the back left corner of your room, directly facing where he now sits.

You walk over, sitting in it.

He then lays back on your bed, feet still planted firmly on the floor, arms folded behind his head—God, he’s so tall.

“Do you not get lonely here?” He asks, turning his head to look at you.

You lift one of your socked-feet onto the chair, wrapping your arms around your bent knee. You shrug.

He shakes his head. “Don’t do that.”

Your brows furrow. “Do what?”

“Act like you being left alone all the time doesn’t matter. It matters; you matter.”

You remain quiet. Then, “I’m used to it. I like being alone.”

He refuses to believe that, knows it’s bullshit.

You’d only spent a week together, and only a little over an hour every day at that, but it’d not taken but a couple of days for you to—at times—talk his ear off. At one point, it’d nearly gotten on his last nerve, until his stomach dropped and heart broke when he realized why: how fucking long had it been since you’d had someone—anyone—to really talk to? Someone who bothered to truly listen? How long had you stayed silent, withdrawing further and further into yourself, until you’d built up an entire fantasy world within your mind and soul, which became your new reality?

And so he promised to himself—and mentally to you—that he’d never, even if it were true—tell you he doesn’t care what you have to say. He won’t be just one more person to hurt and let you down. Just like he knows you won’t be as much to him.

You’re good for him. He could tell as much from the first day he spoke to you.

He stares at you for a moment, making you squirm. “I don’t believe that.”

“Ok.” You don’t particularly feel like arguing. He can believe whatever he wishes.

He frowns. He dislikes that you don’t seem to much care what his opinion of you is. He supposes it’s a strange dichotomy. Going from Cassie who, it was all she cared about, to you, who clearly can’t care less.

“You’re really telling me that talking to barely anyone at school, except occasionally Lexi, and being alone in this house all the time doesn’t ever get to you?”

You shrug. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

In all the talking to him you’d done over the past week, all of it had been surface-level. About history or the new book you were reading, or something you’d read in a news article. None of it was actually truly about you.

If his plan to get in deeper with you—to know you like no other person on the planet does—is going to work, then you need to give him more.

“What if it wasn’t?”

“What do you mean?”

He shrugs, looking up to the ceiling. “What if we started hanging out more often than just when we study after school? We could text or something, too.”

You appreciate his being concerned for you, you think it really kind of him. Even if makes you the least bit uncomfortable. You tell yourself it’s simply because it’s something you’re not used to: someone showing genuine concern for you.

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

He looks at you again. “You wouldn’t be. I like spending time with you.”

You’re not sure how to respond, so you just say thanks.

“I feel like for the last week I’ve done nothing but ask you questions about yourself. Is there anything you want to know about me?”

He’ll never admit it, but your lack of interest in him hurts his feelings. It makes him feel like you aren’t nearly as attracted to him as he is to you.

“I just didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

He smirks. So that’s why. Always so fucking considerate; his sweet girl.

“You won’t.”

You think for a moment. The things you really want to ask him about are too personal this early on (even if you’d told yourself such things were none of your business, you can’t help wanting answers). Like why he despises his dad so much, and what happened with him and Maddy and Cassie. And what happened at that New Year’s party which landed him in the hospital?

You start smaller. “What made you want to play football?”

He considers giving you some bullshit answer—which will seem a plausible enough explanation—and giving you the actual truth. Finally, he decides on both. “It gives me something to do, for one. A reason to push myself harder. It gives me something to focus on. And football is a contact sport. So when I’m pissed off, I finally have something to take it out on.”

“Like when you’re angry with your dad?”

He grows silent.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-”

He shakes his head. “It’s ok. It’s not like I’ve exactly been subtle about my dislike of him.”

He doesn’t elaborate further than that.

“So…what’s your favorite color?”

He laughs. “I don’t know. Black, I guess.”

Somehow it seems fitting for him.

He looks at you, able to read you. “But that’s not the kind of question you want to be asking, is it?”

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.”

He leans up on one elbow. “Then how about we make it fair? You ask me one actually personal question, and then I ask you one. And we both have to answer. No matter what. As soon as one of us refuses to, I head home.”

You think about it for a moment, worried about the sorts of things he may ask, but you have an out. “Deal.”

He smiles. “Alright, ladies first.”

“Will you tell me what happened during New Year’s?”

He sits up fully then. “Fezco smashed a bottle over my head, then beat me within an inch of my life. He got the upper hand immediately by doing what he did with the liquor bottle. He almost fucking killed me, all for a worthless druggy.”

Your brows furrow. “Who?”

“Rue went to him with some made-up story about me harassing her and some friend of hers online. When in reality I want nothing to do with her. So then he threatened to kill me and finally fucking tried to.”

“Why would she do something like that?” It feels like he isn’t giving you the whole story. He’s laid out the edges of a puzzle, but is withholding the middle.

He shrugs. “She’s a drug addict, how should I know?”

Before you can reply, can think of a polite way to say: so what’s the real story here, he takes his turn.

“How come we were never friends?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’ve known each other since we were five-years-old. We grew up together, have known each other for over a decade now. And only in the last week have we really finally talked, or spent any amount of time together.”

You lean back in your seat. “Well, just because you grow up with someone doesn’t mean that fact has to serve as some prerequisite to becoming best friends or something. Sometimes people, even from a young age, just don’t click. You were always running around on the playground, playing sports with others. I was always sitting off to the side and reading or coloring or playing with toys. I guess you were just more outgoing than me.”

“You know what they say: opposites attract.”

You tell yourself he’s just referring to friendship.

He lays back again. “Well, it may’ve only taken eleven years, but we’re friends now. I just… I just wonder what things might’ve been like had it happened sooner.” He sighs, then, “Your turn again.”

To an extent, you wonder that, too. Mostly just what it would’ve been like to have a best friend for that long.

“What happened between you, Maddy, and Cassie?”

“Not going to give me an easy one, huh?”

You let out a small laugh.

“Me and Maddy had been together since sophomore year. I guess we just grew comfortable with one another, even if we weren’t always happy. Even if it wasn’t always healthy. It didn’t start out toxic. We were happy at first. For awhile. A long while. But she just…it was like she wasn’t pleased unless we were fighting and then making up.

“It was just a constant cycle of her beating me down, then trying to build me back up again through sex. She just…she made me feel like shit about myself. As both her boyfriend and a man. It was like it wasn’t bad enough: the shit I dealt with at home with my dad. She just had to become one more problem in my life that I was forced to deal with.

“I’d hoped that if I loved her hard enough, if I gave her enough, she’d love me back the way I wanted to be loved. The way I loved her. Turns out I was just a fucking idiot.”

Tears sting your eyes. You feel so sorry for him. To be so young and to have already known an emotionally abusive relationship was heartbreaking. It was one reason why you refused to date at such a young age. You were all too young to understand yourselves, nevermind another person. Not in the context of loving and taking care of them, at least. You all were barely even fully-formed people yet.

So that was what Lexi had been referring to before. Just like everything, there were always two sides.

“And Cassie?” You ask, softly.

A muscle in his jaw feathers. “Just a giant fucking mistake. We first hooked up a couple weeks after Maddy and I had broken up…again. It happened on New Year’s Eve. I just…maybe I was trying to get even for what Maddy had done to me at the beginning of the school year—fucking a guy in the pool at McKay’s house—right in front of everyone.

"And then we hung out more, and at first I thought she was different. Maybe better for me. Until she started blowing up my phone with hundreds of calls and texts, screaming one night in my room about how crazy she was, how she’d never let me be with anyone else. How she was better for me than all the rest.”

Your brows raise. That unhinged? Cassie had always seemed so sweet and demure to you. But you’d also hardly ever been around her outside of school.

And dating—being in relationships—seemed to sometimes bring out the worst in people. Facets they themselves didn’t even know they had.

“I’m sorry, Nate. I never knew Cassie was so…” You trail off, until he fills in the rest for you.

“Psychotic?”

You laugh. “I wasn’t going to say it like that, but…” You shift legs, wrapping your arms around your other one now. “Your turn.”

He remains lying back, wanting this question to come off as something he’s casually asking. Whereas, in reality, he’ll be holding onto every word of your answer.

“Have you ever dated before?”

You feel like you suddenly want to use your out, but refrain. It’s a simple enough question, with a simple answer. “No.”

He looks over at you. “Never?”

You shake your head. “Nu-uh.”

His brows raise. He’d never known you to have a boyfriend before, but until recently he’d not exactly kept tabs on you.

It surprises him.

“Have you never kissed anyone or had sex?” He prays the answer to both is no. Also hopes you don’t cut his questioning you short.

You’re quiet for a moment, the two of you just staring at one another. Until, finally, you decide to answer. “No. And I’m not ashamed to say it. Not having done either of those things is a choice, just like having done them is as well.”

He sits up, hunching over to try and hide the erection he can feel forming.

No one has ever been inside of you—not in your mouth, not in your pussy, and not in your ass. Another pair of lips have never even touched your own, another tongue has never tasted you. Another pair of eyes has never explored your lovely naked body.

He wants to know what you do, then, to satiate yourself when the mood strikes. Do you rub at your clit until you come? Do you finger yourself—he wonders if your hymen is still intact? Do you bunch a pillow up between your legs, humping it until you've finished and the case is soaked? Or do you take and rub your teddy against your wet, needy pussy until you’re sore and can’t take it anymore?

God he wants to know what you fucking taste like. Wants to feel your fingers in his hair as he goes down on you. Needs to know what your perfect pussy feels like around his cock.

But he knows it’s too soon for any of that. For you, at least.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of. Not nowadays. You should be proud of yourself for having held out this long. I admire it.”

You shrug. “It’s not that hard to do.”

He smirks. “That’s because you’ve never done it before. Once you’ve been with someone in that way…giving up that kind of intimacy is difficult.”

You think any kind of intimacy must be hard to let go of after having it. Whether it’s emotional, intellectual, physical…sexual. Maybe it’s one more reason you keep most people at arm’s-length. If you never let anyone in, then you’ll never have to worry about losing them.

You clear your throat. “My turn.”

He lays back again.

“Can I ask about your dad?”

He flexes his jaw. “What about him?”

“Why do you hate him so much?”

There’s a long pause and then he finally sits up. “I guess it’s time for me to go.”

You plant both of your feet on the floor, now sitting on the edge of your swing-chair. “You don’t have to. I’m sorry. I was just curious. Since he always seems so…perfect, you hating him, I guess, is just a source of confusion for me. Then again, maybe that perfection is the source of it: your hate. I don’t know.”

“That’s part of it. But not all.” And that’s all the answer he’s willing to give you.

Letting onto his hate for his father in the first place was a mistake. But that loathing sometimes seeped out. And he feels like he can be honest with you. He trusts you. So, sometimes he lets go a little. That lid he keeps so tightly screwed slips loose sometimes in your presence.

He stands and you fill with guilt.

You’d gone too far. You’d known better—that asking about his father would end up being a mistake—but you’d brought him up anyway. And now you’d ruined the day.

“You really don’t have to leave. We can talk about something else?”

He pretends to consider that for a moment. When in reality, he’s all too-pleased that you’re so eager for him to stay.

Then, he steps over to you, standing in front of your seat, towering over you as you look up at him. He briefly thinks that this would be a perfect position for the both of you to be in as you take him into your mouth.

Then, he kneels down. One week was all it had taken for you to bring him to his knees.

He reaches up, grabbing either of the ropes the chair hangs from from on either side of you. “It’s Friday.”

You smile nervously. “That’s very observant of you.”

He smiles, letting out a small chuckle. “I just mean that it’s only four o’ clock; still early. We could go do something together.”

He begins to lightly swing you, just barely.

“Like what?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Whatever you want. I could take you to dinner, take you shopping. I’ll take you wherever you want to go, even if you just want to drive around.”

You don’t know how to respond to his offer. “You don’t have anywhere else you need to be?”

“Not at all.” He wants so desperately to touch you, but he sees you like a newborn fawn, easily frightened; skittish. So he refrains. For now at least.

You glance to the set of glass doors beside the two of you which lead into your backyard. At the sun still high in the sky and tree branches blowing lightly in the wind. And then you look back to Nate, seeing no good reason to waste such a beautiful day cooped up inside.

“Okay.”

He smiles. “Good.” He stands, offering you his hand.

You take it, doing the same. “I’ll just be a minute, I need to change again. Don’t really want to go out in sweats.”

He nods, going to leave, then stops by your closet. He pulls the doors open and you watch as he pulls out a light-pink sundress, then turns back to you, holding it out in your direction.

“You don’t have to wear it, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen it on you at school before. Just thought it might look nice.”

You gently take the dress from him.

He speaks before you can tell him no. “I’ll be waiting in the living room. Take your time.”

Once the door has shut behind him, you look down at the dress in your hands, then at the things you usually wear—the clothes you feel most comfortable in—beckoning you from your closet.

While you dress, Nate leans back on the couch, hoping you wear what he’s picked out for you. In truth, he wants to dress every inch of you. He wants to do your hair, your makeup—even if you never wear any. He wants to pick out a cute matching pair of lingerie for you—so only he knows what’s under your clothes—your shoes, your jewelry, even your perfume.

He isn’t sure why it means so much to him—perhaps it’s just another thing he feels the need to have control over. He wants you to look nice. He knows you’re capable of matching his ideal picture of what he wants you to be in his head.

When you finally emerge from your bedroom fifteen minutes later—you’d spent half of that time sitting on your bed considering putting the dress away—he’s left speechless.

You’d put on the dress, along with a cute pair of sandals, your toes already painted a pleasant shade of pink, which just so happens to match the item you’re now wearing. And between your breasts hangs a necklace.

You stand in the entryway awkwardly, one of your hands clutching your other arm. “I feel ridiculous,” you whisper, your face red.

He stands, coming to position himself in front of you. “You look beautiful.”

You’re surprised by his response. Wearing something which shows off so much of your body makes you want to crawl out of your skin.

You’d considered putting on a cardigan to cover your arms, but it’s almost ninety-degrees outside. So you decided against it.

He reaches around to the base of your ponytail, his thumb, index and middle finger gripping your hairband. “May I?” He asks, looking down at you.

You feel dumbstruck by the sensation of the base of your hair in his grip, so you just nod.

He gently pulls the band free, your hair falling over your shoulders and down your back, coming to rest just above your ass.

He’s never seen hair as long as yours before. Why the hell do you keep it up all the time?

He flexes his hand, the holder now firmly around his wrist and he reaches up with both of his hands, running his fingers through your soft hair, massaging your scalp as he styles it.

You just stare up at him, his face the picture of concentration as his fingers work against your head, through your long strands of hair. Your eyelids droop just a bit out of the feeling of relaxation that comes over you, goosebumps rising on your arms.

Nate takes note of that, as well as the quiet whimper in the back of your throat as his fingers brush against the base of your neck for just a moment. He likes that you like the way he’s touching you. He wants to know what other places his fingers and hands could explore that would get him similar results.

Finally, once he deems your hair presentable to his personal satisfaction, half of it falling down your back, the other half split evenly over both of your shoulders, he slips one hand into his pocket, the other coming to rest under your chin, making you look up at him again.

He feels blood rush to his cock at the flushed, lax look on your face as your hooded eyes stare up into his own.

“Why don’t you wear your hair down more often? It looks very pretty like this.”

“It gets in my way,” you state, your voice now having a dreamy quality to it.

He really likes you like this. All soft and submissive and dressed how he likes. He wants you wrapped around his finger sooner rather than later. Completely his in every single fucking way imaginable.

Today will be one step closer to getting that future.

He deems what you’ve said a good enough answer, but he knows you’ll have to get used to it. Your hair being down suits you far better than it being up.

He steps away, walking over to the door, holding it open for you.

Once you’ve locked it behind you, he holds open the passenger side door of his truck for you, same as always, shutting it firmly once you’re inside.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x y/n #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x reader

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moonstruckme · 7 months

Note

Hey! I have a potentially odd request and I’m not sure if you write stuff like this anyway so if not please just disregard. I am in a strikingly similar situation Sirius with Regulus and for some reason this past week I’ve been feeling guilty as hell. Could you maybe do something where Remus and James are comforting Sirius like it’s okay, it’s not your fault, you had to leave, etc? Or maybe something with Remus James and Sirius comforting reader with the same idea but Sirius being especially emotional and like it’s okay, I get it, you can’t blame yourself etc? Thank you lovely <3 <3

Hi sweetheart! I wasn’t sure exactly which Siri+Reg situation you meant but my first thought was the one where Sirius left Reg alone in their parents’ home, so I hope that’s what you were intending. Thanks sm for requesting! It was a great excuse to listen to regina spektor’s two birds on repeat :’)

cw: implied past abuse, older sibling guilt (also I am a wee bit drunk editing this so if it’s bad let’s blame it on that)

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“I know,” you croak, and you’re speaking quietly enough that Remus gathers you aren’t eager to be overheard, but you’ve made no move to go upstairs and have a truly private conversation. You lie on your back on the couch, one hand covering your eyes and the other holding your phone to your ear. “Yeah, I know how they are. No, it sucks, I just—”

You press your lips together as the voice on the other end of the phone increases in volume. When it pauses, you hum. “Yeah, I get that. I think it’s a good idea. Just keep to yourself, if you can. It’ll be okay. I’ll try and—no, I know.” You swallow thickly. Remus’ heart heavies.

He sneaks a look at your boyfriends, both pretending to be busy whilst they eavesdrop. Sirius, just on the other end of the couch, has ceased typing on his laptop and is scrolling aimlessly back and forth on the same page. Meanwhile, James is stirring a pot of water on the stove that’s barely simmering. They look about as tense as Remus feels, Sirius most of all. They all know who you’re talking to. They can gauge the subject.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice dips, quiet and abashed. “I want to, I just—wait, don’t—”

You let the phone drop onto the couch, releasing a sigh as you bring your other hand to your face. They hung up.

There are a few seconds of fraught silence before James pipes up from the kitchen, “Everything alright, angel?”

You hum in affirmation, but the sound is pitchy and broken.

Sirius forgoes pretense. He closes his laptop, setting it aside. “What did they want?”

You take in a deep, shuddering breath. It’s not enough; your voice cracks anyway. “For me to come home,” you say, the last word a sob.

James switches the stove off, nearly jogging into the living room to be at your side.

“I’m sorry, dove,” Remus says quietly. “I know it must be hard, but you did the right thing by leaving.”

“I don’t think so,” you choke out. James makes a pained sound as he sits by your feet, between you and Sirius, and rubs his big hands up and down your calves consolingly. Remus sneaks a glance at Sirius, and his boyfriend has his jaw clamped tight, watching you with heartache in his pale eyes.

“You did,” James says. “Sweetheart, it’s not your fault.”

You shake your head, still hiding behind your hands. “I—I can’t—” You nearly lunge for James, who looks all too relieved to take you into his arms. He maneuvers you so you’re in his lap, sitting sideways with your face pressed against his collar. His palm covers the back of your head.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he hushes you, tone fraught with a compassion so intense it sounds like it hurts. “It’s okay. Just cry it out if you need to.”

You do. You cry until Remus is sure your head has to be pounding. You don’t try to breathe through it, don’t wipe your nose as it runs. Your tears come hot and fast and painfully quiet, like you learned how to hide them as soon as you learned how to cry. Sirius doesn’t tear his gaze from you as your shoulder’s shake and James’ shirt grows wet. When he swallows thickly, Remus reaches over from the armchair to take his hand.

Once your tears start to slow, Sirius says, voice uncharacteristically quiet, “The best thing you can do is give them the advice you wish someone had given you.” His free hand twitches in his lap, and Remus realizes he’s keeping still on purpose, not messing with his hair or crossing his arms or doing any of the things that would give away how upset he is. “You can’t go back.”

“I know,” you mumble into James’ shirt.

“Do you?” Remus asks gently. “I understand if you want to, right now, but you just…you have to do what’s best for yourself.”

A powerful sob shakes you, and James’ palm presses into your back with something akin to desperation. “I’m the big sister,” you say. “I’m supposed to be there for them.”

“You didn’t ask for that.” Sirius’ words are inlaid with a quiet ardency. “It’s not—you can’t blame yourself.”

You sniffle, pulling your face from James’ front to look at Sirius. There’s a rawness between you that hurts Remus to look at. “I know you know what it’s like,” you tell him, voice wavering on the edge of a whimper, “and I’m sorry. I just—” you take a ragged inhale “—didn’t think it would feel like this.”

James looks like he is just barely restraining himself from tucking your head back into his shoulder, but he holds still as Sirius pulls his hand from Remus’ to reach for you, pushing a damp piece of hair away from your eye.

“Baby, you don’t need to be sorry,” he promises. “I get it. It’s hard to feel okay about it at first, but you’ll…it gets easier.”

You nod, and even though it’s obvious to all of them that you’re only being a good sport, Sirius offers you a small smile.

“What made it easier?” you ask softly, swiping under your eyes. James coos and bushes your hands away gently, kissing your tears off for you.

Sirius looks between Remus and James, then shrugs. “I don’t know. Drinking, maybe.”

“Fuck off.” Remus sticks out a foot, pushing at Sirus’ thigh harshly. “Does she seem like she’s in the mood for jokes?”

But you laugh wetly, and they all grin for hearing it, James mushing a few quick kisses into the side of your head.

“Gonna turn our sweet girl into an alcoholic,” he says against your skin.

“Fine.” Sirius rolls his eyes extravagantly. “I don’t know, I guess you guys helped a bit too.”

Before Sirius can react, James has an arm around his neck, tugging him close. “Oh, you,” James says, and Sirius makes a horrified squawking sound as his boyfriend presses a firm kiss to his temple, then yours. “Such a romantic. We helped a bit, huh?”

Remus hums. “Ingrate.”

“The point,” Sirius says, wrestling free of James’ grip, “is that it does get better.” He looks at you, features softening. “It’s not that it’s ever easy. But give it time.”

“Got it.” You give him a small smile. Still wan, but more genuine than the last. “Thanks.”

“Do whatever you need to to feel better, sweetheart,” Remus tells you, leaning forward until you meet his eye. “Just stay with us, yeah? Don’t go anywhere.”

You lean into James’ side, the affection in your gaze all too heavy. “I could never.”

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wolvesroampastelgalaxies · 2 months

Text

Edit: All chapters up on tmblr & ao3 :p

Okay, so I got alot of hits on my last FoP:ANW ficlet. Which had me re-reading it frequently. So instead of healing, I desperately wanted to fix this situation. I think I am genuinely affected that Timmy isn’t the MC anymore.

My child hood = 💀

Anyway, I made a continuation kinda. I’m much better at introspection than writing out actions (I think). So if this piece is not of the same quality as the last. Lemme know, I really wanna do this concept justice. :p

On a Wing and A Wish 🪽

I wish Timmy Turner got back all the memories of his fairies and could be apart of his family forever.

“What is this?” Dev asks, “Whose Timmy Turner?”

Peri harshly shushes him, hovering in close while darting his eyes around Dev’s room.

Begrudgingly, the kid whispers, “What’s the deal? No one is here. What. Is. This?”

This - was a note looped with periwinkle ink on what was balled up paper. Peri couldn’t believe what he was doing. Sneaking behind his parents’, and worse, the Fairy Council’s back, asking his own god-kid for a wish. He never thought to go through with it, even if he did frequently imagine the outcome. But it was the one thing he’d wanted since his brother left.

No. Not left. He forgot. They made him forget. He never left us.

Never left me.

He sighs, resuming the usual distance. Dev can finally breathe in air that’s not Peri’s cologne and takes in his god-parent’s appearance. The fairy did not look good. Usually quaffed hair was flat and tussled, like he forgot to shower then tossed and turned all night. Which, ew, he probably hadn’t showered or poofed himself clean or whatever fairies do based on the pit stains. Sweat was also causing clammy hands that were attempting to wring themselves dry. His usual calming, lavender eyes were bloodshot from what he could tell. Well, when they weren’t searching for a haunted house jump scare.

Dev waves his arms, “Hello? Earth to Peri!”

The beat of wings is audible as Peri jumps a foot higher in the air.

“Are you broken? Can fairies malfunction?” Dev gets a dimmadome idea, “Do I get a new one if you do?”

This absurd question has Peri descending from the (literal) high level of anxiety to a level of annoyance. That level being eye to eye with his god-kid, where purple and blue begin a standoff. If there was a movie in the pinpricks of their eyes, it would reflect a tense western gun fight. Peri would have a wand at his holster and Dev would be there, arms crossed and smug as can be. His mouth loaded with the bullet 'I wish…' and Peri would be dead on the dusty road.

A wing and a prayer is the saying. He had wings, he just needed the prayer.

Or a wish.

Peri surrenders, realizing picking a fight will not work in his favor.

“Fairies can’t grant their own wishes.”

The ginger scoffs, “That’s it?” He thought his fairy was dense, but he didn’t realize Peri was actually challenged. “Just, have another fairy grant your wish.”

Rather than meeting with some Peri-fonted, copy-paste of Da Rules, Dev saw as his god-parent open and close his mouth. Pale lips pressing in a thin line. His small body seemed to curl in on itself, shielding not from Dev, but the irony of what he had said.

Without looking at him, Peri said, “They can’t. It’s not how it works. Only a god-kid can make wishes.”

The hitch and crack at the word 'can’t' did not go unnoticed by either. Peri flinches. He had spent all week wrestling with the notion. It was only last night that he had scribbled the note down. There was nothing in Da Rules about another kid wishing for someone to not lose their memories. His mom was right, there are a lot of loopholes.

Peri had hoped and hyped himself up enough that being a godparent would fix him. If he could recreate it, he wouldn’t feel the dreams of his childhood each night turn to mourning. Deep nostalgia for a time that seemed imagined rather than the most impressionable years of his immortal life. Hijinks among his and his parents’ god-kids flooded him with memories. Waves of jealously crashed down as Dev and Hazel shared their youth, times they’ll have forever.

Peri could not live eternity drowning.

The human boy felt awkward, it never occurred when he wasn’t the most grieved one in the room. Dev knew, though not consciously, that grief was not just losing someone. It was being lost yourself. Each day happened, it was not unnoticed, but it wasn’t remembered.

“Well….what would I even be wishing for? I was taught not to sign something before reading it, err wishing.”

Peri’s wings flutter briefly. Was Dev considering it? What was he supposed to say? He gathers himself as much as he can to stop shaking from nerves.

“Timmy Turner is someone really important to me. Like, he’s kinda the whole reason I exist.” He pauses, waiting for Dev’s reaction.

“I thought the green fairy was your dad?”

“No, not like that. Although, I guess he did wish for my dad to get pregnant.”

“Your dad was WHAT?” Dev shouts but Peri is quickly on him again, hand pressed tight over the kid’s mouth. Dev only briefly struggles to push him off, dramatically gasping for breath.

“It’s complicated okay? I just, it would mean everything to me, to my parents, if you could wish this.” Peri interjects before Dev can close curtain on his overreaction.

Cutting a glare that isn’t so much as throwing the knife but threatening to, Dev straightens himself. “What’s in it for me?”

Whatever miserable feelings Peri has disappear into steam when he reddens from frustration at the kid’s incredulousness.

"'In it for you?!' You literally have anything you have ever wanted at your finger tips. You have ME! A fairy! With an endless amount of wishes. There is nothing I can’t give you if you want it!” Peri hisses. He might pass out, all the breath pushed from his lungs at this nightmare of a child. He takes a deep breath.

“It’s a favor. I’m asking a favor Dev.”

The kid did feel a little stupid saying that. It was such a habit. He’s never been in a situation that wasn’t an exchange. It’s not like Peri was going to stop granting him wishes if he said no. And besides being less annoying, there was nothing more the fairy could do if he said yes.

Dev sighs, he knows he’s going to make the wish.

“Do you know why kids get godparents to begin with?” Peri’s tone is drained of any animosity. It sounds hollow, like an echo instead of the real words.

He isn’t sure if Peri is looking for an answer, but Dev is still feeling sheepish after his own selfishness.

“No...”

Fairy eyes are known to have a slight shimmer in their iris’, as if they held infinitesimal pieces of glitter. Dev hopes that it’s just the light magnifying the effect in Peri’s and not him on the verge of tears.

“Because life isn’t fair. When life isn’t fair, kids get fairies. The fairies stay until life gets better or they grow up. But,” he falters then, a strained attempt at composure, “but they always forget.”

He flutters down onto the side of Dev’s bed. Wings mirroring his melancholy as they droop. This is not a reserved sadness, it’s not something you can leave till nightfall, not anymore. Not now that he has to face it every day, worse that’s of his own volition. It’s a lonely feeling that twists and winds itself so tight he can’t stand it. Something had to be done.

“I just can’t forget.” And there is a tear now, one he hopes his god-kid cant see with his head bowed.

Hesitantly, Dev sits down. It’s rare for them to be on an even level when he’s not hovering. Peri is so small compared to the 10 year old, who feels like moving an inch might shatter his fairy.

“Was he your first god-kid? Is that how, fairies like, reproduce or something? You run out of fairies for kids and when you need more you just…..your dad?” Dev can’t decide between disgust, curiosity, or confusion.

Peri chuckles, plugging any leaks he has with a sniffle. He guesses he’ll get a few awkward questions on that later.

“Eh, no. We grew up together. He’s kinda like - he’s my brother.” The statement is the only solid thing he can cling to. That one simple fact.

He’s my brother.

“I know it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s a lot to go over. But I promise if you do this for me, I will explain everything. Anything you want to know.”

There is another thing that makes Dev feel like an idiot, and that’s his dad. Anytime there might be a sliver of a chance for him to pay attention or choose Dev over some money scheme, Dev falls for it every-time. A swell of hope and admiration fills his chest and then he’s getting the breath knocked out of him when, surprise, he’s never his dad’s choice. Peri was right about life not being fair. And it doesn’t just seem unfair for humans. But, if he got a fairy to even it out for him, maybe he could try too.

Besides, he was going to-do it anyway.

“Hey Peri?”

He rubs his eyes with his sleeve for good measure and gives a mosaic smile of all the shattered hurt inside.

“Yeah kid?”

Dev takes a breath.

“I wish- “

#fairly odd parents a new wish #peri fairywinkle cosma #poof fairywinkle cosma #dev dimmadome #timmy turner #this is not up to snuff for me #fairly oddparents #this is not coping or healing this is sabotage

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xxkatxgracexx · 5 months

Text

Niko Omilana ~ £10 Date VS £10,000 Date ~ Beta Squad video.

Niko Omilana but references a date with both Niko and Chunkz orchestrated for entertainment purposes.

Summary: As the only female member of the Beta Squad, you are the chosen date for the £10 Date VS £10,000 Date video on the Beta Squad channel. Obviously the aim of the video is to see whether money or personality matters more on a date, so Chunkz's is being a good date, person and overall caring, but having the low budget of £10, while Niko had a high budget of £10,000 but had to be arrogant and rude. Nobody knows you would die for a real rate with Niko.

Warnings: Planned and Orchestrated Relationships for entertainment, Language, Kissing, Smut/Sexual Themes, Descriptive Smut, Unsafe Sex.

This takes place a few years ago on original Beta Squad. Go watch the video it's mad funny.

It takes ages to get to the smut but it does get there - I wouldn't lie to you bae xx.

Niko is so fine bro

2nd Person - past tense

"Hi Guys, Welcome to the Beta Squad channel, and today we are going to do a £10 VS £10,000 date challenge, in which two people go on a date with one girl. The aim is to see whether money or personality matter more."

Everyone has been introduced and is going out to find a girl. Once they have discovered this is a no-go, they go back to the Beta House to think.

Aj sat on a bean bag, everyone else on the couch. Out of no-where, (definitely scripted), Chunkz said:

"Guys, the 6th Beta Squad member is upstairs and we didn't even think about her. Why can't she be the date?"

Niko insisted against the idea, "Nah, nah. Wouldn't that be weird?"

Aj looked straight into the camera:

"Well, we're gonna do it anyway, we have a tight budget," He said and laughed.

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

A knock on your door was heard and Niko, Chunkz and Aj came in. Kenny and Sharky waited outside. Chunkz looked at you, you were sitting in your chair editing when you heard them and turned around:

"Uhm, hello?" You said, acting confused for the sake of the video.

Niko spoke: "We would like you to help us film a Beta video."

"Okay... what do I have to do?"

Aj said: "You have to go on a date..."

You got up, "Yes, well needed."

He continued, "With two of us..."

"What... why?" You said, feigning confusion.

"Content?" Aj said into the camera with a smile on his face.

"Whatever let's go," you laughed.

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

"After careful consideration, Chunkz has been chosen for the £10 date, and Niko was elected for the £10,000 date," Sharky said into the camera.

"Oh, this is gonna be horror," Chunkz said, half-laughing, half-despairing.

The camera panned towards Niko, his face seemed filled with glee for the £ 10,000 budget but somehow worried.

You internally freaked out in the corner of the room, staring at Niko before burying your face into your phone, acting unbothered.

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

The next scene showed you entering the Beta House as if for the first time. You knocked on the door and waited for what felt like hours before a smiling Aj appeared before you.

"Welcome! Sorry for the wait beautiful," he winked. "Come in, come in."

He took you through the house and into the backyard, where a piece of cardboard and Chunkz awaited on the floor.

"Oh." The camera panned towards your concerned face.

Chunkz noticed you, "Hey darling, take a seat, my apologies for the current... situation."

He smiled sweetly.

Immediately you thought about how it's weird to be on a date with Chunkz, not only because he was your friend, but because he wasn't really your type and you usually wouldn't go for him.

Despite this, you could see that he was trying his best to make the date a little more enjoyable for you.

Sat on the other side of the cardboard (uncomfortably, due to the grass being a little damp), you watched Aj walk over and offer the both of you some drinks.

You piped up, "Do you have any champagne?"

"No," Aj replied.

Chunkz looked like he wanted to die.

It cut to his interview:

"We have a 10-pound budget... and this gyal thinks we got champagne? Mad ting."

"What do you have?" You asked.

Aj hesitated, "Water... I think?"

You smiled awkwardly and accepted anything you could get. The date continued to be an absolute shambles. It was awkward, the budget was not ideal and you walked away with wet legs. However, Chunkz was really trying for you and ended up being really nice, showing you that he too wanted to have a more ideal situation and a better date.

Cameras went off before you left for your dreaded second location.

Chunkz hugged and thanked you, saying, "Don't have too much fun on your date."

He winked and you said your final goodbyes.

Niko's POV - past tense

At this point, we had gathered all of our supplies and were waiting in the restaurant for Y/n to arrive. Tired of waiting in the uncomfortable booth, I sighed and decided to go outside.

As I opened the front door, I was taken by surprise - Y/n appearing right in front of me. I jumped.

She laughed, "Such a gentleman and the date hasn't even started yet?"

She smiled and walked over to George, getting orders on what to do. She went back outside for a walk-in shot and sat down opposite me. As she sat down, she noticed flowers splayed out on the table, spelling her name so incorrectly it made her laugh. You genuinely would've thought a child spelt it.

"That's sweet but it's spelt wrong."

I laughed and then dropped my face dramatically, "No that's right."

She smiled awkwardly for a second before I randomly leaned forward, to "kiss" her as the boys had "advised". I could've sworn for a second her face went red before creasing her eyebrows and looking around.

"Did you just dodge my kiss?" I asked, mock-offended.

"Yes... why would you kiss me thirty seconds into a date?" She laughed awkwardly.

"Are you a lesbian or something?" I said, 'seriously'.

She bursted out laughing before profusely apologising. We got told we were going to have to re-take the whole scene. She spent another ten minutes apologising again and again, which I was grateful for as it stalled the almost-kiss for a little longer.

When it came, our faces were inches apart for a few seconds, and my face was heated, wishing I could've stayed like that for just a second longer. I've never wanted to lean forward and let go as much as I did then.

I pushed through the rest of the date acting arrogant and entitled before we finally finished recording and the camera went off.

Y/n burst out laughing, she looked at me and I swear a blush formed on her cheeks but I figured it was heated from filming so long on this hot set and ignored it.

"Nikolas Omilana," she laughed. I smiled - hearing her say my full name always gave me butterflies, "I never thought you could be such an obnoxious prick."

I joked around, saying: "Could I get that kiss now though?"

I laughed, obviously kidding but wishing she really would do it.

She giggled and reached up onto her toes, grabbing the back of my neck with one hand and my jaw with the other, kissing me softly.

She pulled away laughing, Sharky and Kenny as shocked as I was.

In all honesty, I didn't think she actually would do it, it was just a stupid fantasy. In reality, I had no clue what to say or do if it would happen and still had no clue what to say or do when it did happen.

"I...," I stuttered, utterly speechless, "You know I was joking right?". I lie through my teeth, knowing I wanted that so badly.

"I know," She giggled.

I looked down at her and my heart warmed up. I leaned down and kissed her again more passionately, my hands in her hair and her arms around my neck.

Sharky and Kenny jokingly cheered in the background, laughing and applauding me on my "good work".

I pulled away and smiled at her lovingly.

"I think the date went brilliantly," I laughed.

She smiled, "I can't believe I just kissed someone after a date like that."

"How about I take you on a better one to make up for it?" I prayed she didn't think I was cringe, or maybe she didn't even like me at all like that.

Sharky and Kenny whispered their 'smooth's and 'cold's and she smiled and stuck her tongue out from between her teeth slightly. She hugged me, her head immediately cuddled into my chest.

'God, I could bend her over right now." I randomly thought, immediately feeling creepy and grossed out in my head.

Her breasts were pushed into my chest, my heartbeat got faster and I slowly felt an erection forming until I pushed her away "calmly", I smiled innocently as if I couldn't and hadn't been imagining her in every position under me I could physically think of.

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

Kenny drove and Sharky took the front seat before I could, forcing me awkwardly in the back with Y/n.

The whole journey I rested my hand on her thigh, hoping she felt the same internal screaming as I did then.

Y/n's POV - past tense

I had zoned out for the rest of the car journey and 45 minutes went by faster than I could imagine. The endless kisses I wanted from him and Niko's hand on my thigh were the only things running through my head.

The car stopped suddenly and I awoke to Niko picking me up out of the seat and closing the door.

I rubbed my eyes slowly, really feeling Niko's hands around me.

I must have fallen asleep again because I woke up in Niko's bed, half-lay half-sat uncomfortably. My neck ached and I was thirsty.

The only sounds I could hear were Chunkz editing something - presumably the video we have just filmed, and Niko's electric toothbrush vibrating from his bathroom.

Niko walked in wearing an NDL hoodie and plain grey joggers.

"Oh, you're awake!" he exclaimed.

I hummed softly and sat up, stretching.

I swung my legs over and got out of his bed. I was about to walk out when I heard Niko say my name.

I turned around, eyebrow raised.

"Would you wanna watch a movie?" he smiled sweetly.

I nodded, yawning.

"I'm gonna get dressed first," I said, still wearing my dress (thankfully my heels had been taken off).

"You can just wear my clothes," he hesitated, then added, "If you want."

I nodded and he gave me his t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. I go into his bathroom to change.

I started being nosy in his bathroom, looking at his shower and in his cupboards. I held his shirt to my nose, inhaling and closing my eyes. I slipped out of my dress and my bra, feeling grateful to have free breasts for a while after having a push-up on all day.

Putting his clothes on, I saw his cologne and sprayed some, basking in his scent.

When I walked into the room Niko was searching for a movie to play, looking half-asleep cuddled up in his bed. I got in beside him, resting my head on his shoulder, not getting too close cuddly just in case he didn't want that.

Clearly I was mistaken because I felt a much larger hand wrap around my waist, pulling me closer before moving it down my lower back and holding me tightly to him.

He played the movie but seemed to be much more interested in looking at me than watching it.

I looked up at him and he smiled sleepily. He almost looked drunk from there and for some reason that made me want to kiss him, so I did.

My heart pounded, butterflies erupted in my stomach and my breath flutters as he pulled me infinitely closer to him.

He deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth and pulling me onto his lap, so I was straddling him. I moaned softly into the kiss, immediately embarrassed. He smiled, wrapping his large hands around my waist and moving them, holding my hips.

He guided me so that I was grinding on him slowly and I felt him twitch underneath me.

He soon got hard, pushing his hips up into mine. He sat up, breaking the kiss only to slip his hoodie and t-shirt over his head.

"Can I take off yours too?" he asked, lust in his eyes.

I nodded and he pulls it up over my head, groaning and the sight. I giggle and go in for another kiss, pushing my bare chest against his and wrapping my hands in his hair.

I slipped my tongue into his mouth, making him groan into the kiss.

"Get up," he said, gently but still showing his dominance over me. I did and he stripped down to his underwear.

I couldn't help but stare at his erection through his boxers. Larger than I had expected, and I had expected it to be large.

He smirked. I lay down on the bed on my back and he leant over me, biting his lip before re-connecting our lips. He held my face in his hands, which seemed overly romantic. I appreciated the intimate gesture.

He kissed down my neck and moved his way up to my jaw, nipping and sucking, creating love-bites all over my skin.

My breathing sped up and he chuckled against my skin.

I slipped out of my underwear and he groaned from above me. He kissed down my chest and stomach. He completely skipped the area I most wanted him, kissing down my inner thighs. He smiled up at me from between my legs before licking up my thigh.

I moaned out his name softly, pleading for him to touch me.

Niko smirked up at me, gazing into my eyes as if they were the stars and he was merely an admirer of my beauty.

"Can I?" he whispered.

"Please," I nodded. He bit his lip and suddenly I felt his middle finger on my clit, rubbing gently and slowly.

I called out, moaning his name. He smiled hearing me whimper, entering a finger inside of me and moving it slowly.

He added another finger, moving faster inside of me but still incredibly gentle, taking care of me.

Just when I told him I was close he pulled him fingers from me, licks them off and leans back over me, kissing me once again in a swift motion.

He pulled away, staring into my eyes.

"You're so beautiful," he smiled, and I felt a warming in my heart.

I leant up and kissed him. I felt emotionally attached to him, a connection so much deeper than sexual chemistry.

I pulled away slowly and we smiled at each other almost politely, so we both started laughing at the irony of smiling at each other so friendly.

Niko cut both of us off, kissing me passionately, leaning down onto me.

The skin-to-skin contact of our bare chests together was intense.

He asked for permission and lined himself up with my entrance, eyes focused on mine at all costs. he slowly entered me, asking every two seconds if everything was okay and if he was doing anything wrong, if I was in pain.

I gave him my approval and he stared to move gently, groaning a little.

"Niko," I moaned out, hearing his own whines made everything ten times more pleasurable.

He moved faster, but still gently, not wanting to hurt me. All you could hear in the room was our moans in harmony like a sensual melody only to be heard by us.

The room smelt of sex and Niko's cologne. I like to imagine he could smell my perfume as intoxicatingly as his fragrance was for me.

He uttered words of praise, constantly reminding me that:

"You're doing so well.", and:

"You feel so good."

I moaned out his name, signaling I was close and he sped up, pressing his finger back to my clit and rubbing me softly.

"I'm coming," he called out.

He groaned and released inside of me before panicking a little.

"I'm so sorry... are you on the pill?"

I nodded and he looked relieved. We hadn't even thought of that beforehand.

I closed my eyes, not minding much but a little annoyed I didn't get to finish, before I felt Niko's breath on my thigh, making me jump a little.

He licked up my inner thigh, cleaning up his own mess and wrapping his hands around each thigh before connecting his tongue with my clit, pulling on it a little with his teeth softly.

He entered his tongue inside me, making me gasp, and he laughed, vibrations circling around my body. He entered two long fingers inside me once again, sucking on my clit slightly.

"I'm gonna come," I warned, and he sped up a little.

I felt myself go over the edge and shake slightly, feeling an orgasm wash over me completely and rest in my core. He helped me ride out my high and stopped once I had completely finished, licking up the remains.

He looked so unbelievably hot doing so that I didn't even mind the overstimulation he was creating.

Once he was happy he came up behind me, holding me in his arms and kissing my head.

I sighed, "I need a shower."

I got up, stumbling a little when I tried to walk.

I turned around hearing him laugh, "Shush."

"I didn't say anything!" He held his hands up in defence.

I rolled my eyes, "You coming?" He nodded and stood up, towering over me.

Niko's POV - past tense

I followed her into the bathroom and turned on the shower for her. I noticed that she turned the heat up substantially.

I got in after her, hugging her waist from behind, and placed chaste kisses on her neck, proud of the bruises I had previously left on the skin. I opened my body wash, squeezed some into my hand and rubbed it into her neck and back. I liked the idea that she would smell like me the next day.

I did her shampoo and she did mine, we giggled together as she stood on her tip-toes, leaning up into my hair in an attempt to wash it. I ended up helping her and she did her conditioner, and we finished up and dressed into clean clothes. I put on boxers and joggers, still far too hot for a t-shirt.

She wore an NDL T-shirt of mine and my boxers. We got back into bed, I lay on my back and she lay on her front with her face cuddled into my chest, her arms around my neck.

15 minutes later, I saw she had drifted off and felt I could finally rest.

I felt myself doze off not much later.

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

I woke up with a weight on my chest and arms wrapped lazily around my neck. I opened my eyes to see Y/n sleeping peacefully in my arms. I smiled, feeling unmatched love and appreciation for the girl in my arms.

I slid out from underneath her, placing her gently onto my pillow and throwing on a T-shirt and socks.

Heading downstairs, I saw everyone in the kitchen eating breakfast. The clock read 12:32 AM, which was unsurprising, as everyone in the house had just woken up.

I sat down, and everyone muttered their 'mornings' before Aj, the only person in the world with 100% energy all the time turned around to me and said:

"Your gyal was mad loud moaning last night, I swear to god I could not sleep."

Sharky let out a laugh, Chunkz and Kenny looking like they wanted to die. I was utterly speechless just staring at Aj, not really knowing how to reply. He looked at me puzzled.

"Shut her up next time?" he raised an eyebrow.

Chunkz started laughing then, muttering 'How's he gonna do that?' before I started laughing a little too.

A second later Y/n came into the room wearing my clothes. She smelled like she had used my deodorant too.

"Something funny?" She smiled, making her way to the toaster before putting two slices of bread into it. I gave Aj a glare and he ignored my warning look, saying in a high-pitched voice:

"Ohh Niko, please, I'm gonna cum." He laughed.

She leaned, holding her head in her hands as everyone was giggling around her.

Kenny decided to join in, "Yes Niko, right there," he said mockingly before making the most graphic moaning noise possible.

I groaned and walked over to her, holding her waist from behind and leaning down to kiss her head. Aj wooed behind us and I gave him a strange look.

Y/n put together cheese on toast and set it in front of me before grabbing one of her monster cans and walking out. I followed her, plate in hand, furrowing my brow.

I walked in, and she was sitting on the sofa drinking her can.

"Hello?" I said, confused.

"What?" she looked completely innocent, an image of beauty.

"Is this for me... or?"

She nodded as if to say 'obviously'.

"You didn't have to do that," I smiled, seeing how giving she could be, but she passed it off as everyday behaviour. King treatment.

"I know," she said, almost matter-of-factly. It was no big deal for her, but meant everything to me.

I smiled, thanked her and sat down next to her, eating. I wasn't hungry, but ate to show my appreciation for the gift.

Y/n's POV - past tense

30 minutes later me and Niko were watching some random movie he found and cuddling in his bed. All I could think about was what our relationship even was at this point. I really wanted to be with him, call him mine, be loved by him, but I had no clue what he wanted or how he was feeling. if he would just talk to me so I could get the slightest inclination to how he felt.

I was still overthinking when I felt his hand shift on my thigh, startling me - so I jumped.

He chuckled, "Sorry."

I giggled for a second before we sat in silence, aware of each other's presence and skin-to-skin contact driving us crazy. I felt his hand on my jaw, lifting my face to the side. He gazed into my eyes as if he was drawn to them. He kissed me softly and I kissed him back, feeling genuine love for him from the bottom of my heart.

He pulled away slowly and I felt his heart rate fast on my back.

"I love you," he blurts out suddenly, I just looked at him, shocked. My mouth was open slightly and I didn't know what to say or do.

He looked worried, biting his lip, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put pressure on you or anything. You don't have to say it back of course... I'm sorry-"

I cut him off by kissing him. He smiled into the kiss and I pulled away slowly, scared but overjoyed.

"I love you too," I muttered, but I knew he could hear.

I rested my head back on his chest and smiled to myself. I felt a surge of love for him all at once, washing over me like a wave of affection. I breathed in his scent, never feeling happier than I did then.

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

Okay it's finally done after like 3 weeks - I hope it's worth it.

Loved making this but it was hard work.

Let me know if you enjoyed it <3.

Don't know how many words.

#aj shabeel #beta squad #niko omilana #niko omilana smut #niko omilana x reader #sidemen #niko #niko oneshot #oneshot niko #oneshot #x reader #fem reader

252 notes · View notes

withleeknow · 3 months

Note

for the requests — i'll send two songs that i've liked for quite a while and you can choose the member that you see who fits the vibe?

sand by dove cameron

and

make you mine by madison beer

conversations with strangers.

pairing: seungmin x gn!reader genre/warnings: exes to ??, non-idol au (i wrote this with seungmin in mind as a celebrity/singer or musician of some sort so it's pretty vague and it's not explicitly mentioned what he actually does, so if you wanna imagine him as an idol it still fits the narrative. i can't tell you what to do lol), Angst™️! (i think. i liked this at first but then i was looking at it so much that i became desensitized to it and idk if it's that sad anymore lol); the ending is a little ambiguous maybe?, mentions of drinking, mentions of sex, could've been more edited word count: 2.9k note: this might be one of my favorite things that i've written lately but i am also in my fish freshly dropped on land era so i am fully prepared for this to flop like ass lol bye

as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

navigation / request masterlist / ko-fi

I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half of your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

Sand - Dove Cameron

"Why did you call me?"

"Why did you come?"

There isn't a good answer to his question, so you choose to ignore it in favor of keeping your eyes on the road, your fingers holding tightly onto the steering wheel. You don't know what to tell him. You yourself aren't even sure why you came to that bar, why Seungmin is sitting in your passenger seat right now just because he was drunk and he wouldn't let anyone take him home but you.

"I asked you first," you say. It takes an effort to keep your voice even, an effort not to look over at him.

"Don't know," he sounds like he couldn't care less, but that's always been Seungmin for you. "Old habits die hard, I guess. You were the only one I used to call."

You round a corner without even having to look at the GPS. The route to his place is still ingrained in your brain even after all this time. On some nights when you feel too stuffy indoors, you would go on a walk by yourself. Directionless for an hour or two, you just want to feel the wind wrap around your body and solid ground beneath your feet.

On these same nights, you would find yourself at Seungmin's door.

It's always unintentional, the way your feet would carry you to his home without your permission.

"Used to," you reiterate. "Past tense. You don't get to call me anymore. I'm not your chauffeur."

You feel his eyes on the side of your face. Then his voice, ever so calm and collected, "You came anyway, didn't you?"

His words irritate you for some reason, even though he means nothing bad. No malice in his voice; he's just simply stating a fact. You did come when he called, and perhaps the person that you're really annoyed with is only yourself, because why did you come?

He should be a stranger to you by now, and yet, you're here.

Maybe you know the answer. Maybe it's not a hard question at all.

You let the both of you wallow in silence for the rest of the drive. When you pull up to Seungmin's building about ten minutes later, you finally turn to cast your gaze upon him with your eyebrow slightly raised, a polite Get out if there ever was one.

Instead of taking the hint like a normal person and going on his merry way, he just stares at you with his big eyes and his hair still styled to perfection even after a night of celebrating and drinking. Seungmin loves to be difficult, this you can't ever forget.

"Well?" you press. "You're home."

He blinks, then swallows thickly. He looks around your car for a few seconds, unsure of himself. If he wasn't intoxicated, you would think he's trying to stall.

"I... I can't go up by myself," he says.

"Are you serious?"

He just nods, something expectant in his gaze.

"You're a grown man."

"Help me up." He doesn't sound all too drunk, but maybe he's just got a way of masking it because Seungmin would never outright ask for help. He's stubborn, and he thinks it makes him look weak. Incapable.

In the end, you give in to his request. You let him lean on you in the elevator on the way up to his floor, the scent of his cologne still overpowering the bourbon he had all night and it makes you just a little nostalgic.

At his door, you hold onto his waist and look away when he punches in the passcode. The door unlocks and this should be it for the two of you, your unexpected reunion should be ending the moment Seungmin crosses over to the other side of the threshold, but he just turns around and looks at you, his body against the frame of the door this time.

"There, you're home safely," you say. "I've done my part. Goodnight."

"Come in."

"Why?"

"I'm tired. Come in." And with that, Seungmin retreats into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow without any further explanation at all. For a moment, you stand there by yourself, not really sure of what to do. You hear him shuffling inside, before the sound of his body plopping onto the couch carries over to your ears.

What business do you have here? What business did you have with Seungmin in the first place today?

And yet, you find yourself trailing inside, closing the door behind you until the lock clicks into place. Maybe you're curious to see what the place looks like since the last time that you were here. The two of you never lived together - you weren't foolish enough to agree even though he did ask - but you were over often enough to consider this your second home.

Not much has changed. It's still the same minimalist four walls that you were used to. Same light gray paint, same black couch. Same framed signature of his favorite baseball player and same tiny crack in the decorative bowl on the coffee table. There's a photo on the credenza lying face down seemingly on purpose, but you don't say anything about it.

"What am I doing here?" you ask.

"Why did you come?" he shoots you the question for the second time tonight.

You blink at him. He only stares back.

"Why did you call me?" you repeat. "Why did you really call me?"

Questions thrown out but no answers received, like you're both running in circles, with neither of you knowing why you're even running in the first place.

Seungmin purses his lips before he stands up, the suddenness of the movement leaves him unsteady on his feet, makes him hold onto the couch's armrest for support. "Do you want some water?"

You bite the inside of your cheek. "Okay."

"Give me a second. Have a seat."

You watch as he pads into the kitchen a little wobbly, then returns a few minutes later with two glasses of water. He sits back down on the couch next to you, some distance dividing the two of you. He takes a sip, you do the same.

"Called you because I missed you," he says, casually admitting it like he was merely discussing the weather. The place hasn't changed, but maybe he has.

The last time you spoke to Seungmin was about six months ago, when he dropped off your things two weeks after you broke up. You haven't had any contact since, and that's exactly the way it should be for you and him now. You went your separate ways and that was it. A mutual agreement that hurts, but it was mutual nonetheless. For the past half a year, all he's been to you is a stranger. You know why it had to happen. You agreed to it.

But, just because you haven't talked, doesn't mean that you haven't thought of him. You wish he only crossed your mind in passing, wish your brain only conjured up the image of him whenever you saw something that he would like, or whenever you caught a glimpse of him on the TV or radio. In reality, it's been much more pathetic. You think of him almost every day, despite your best efforts to cleanse yourself of everything that's remotely related to the name Kim Seungmin. His absence carries itself with you all the time, a hollowness that seeps into every crevice of your life.

You know he means it. Seungmin doesn't lie, least of all to you. His honesty twists inside of you like a knife. Salt, meet wound.

You have no words to offer him, no response you can think of that would make sense to say out loud so you don't say anything. The only sound that falls from your lips is his name, like a warning, a plea, a consolation all at once.

But he doesn't seem to mind. Not his sudden vulnerability, not your reluctance to entertain that split second of honesty.

"I answered your question. Now you have to answer mine," he says. "Why did you come?"

"What do you want me to tell you?"

He doesn't respond right away. Instead, he takes a moment like he's mulling it over in his head. "Thought maybe you missed me too," he says eventually, ending the sentence with a bitter chuckle. "Just a little bit."

You tongue your cheek, stall with another sip of water before you place the glass on the table. On a coaster of course, Seungmin hates cup rings on his fancy table.

You lean back to rest on the couch, staring up at his boring ceiling. There are memories of you on this very couch, ones of you lying with your head on his lap as he plays with your hair, the two of you winding down after a long day. Or ones that are far too inappropriate to bring up ever again, of nights where you were both too desperate and impatient to take it to the bedroom. Those gentle reminders are still here somewhere, tucked between the cushions perhaps.

"Sure." You hum, nodding along. "Let's go with that."

Another chuckle, humorless. Though, you think he's pleased enough with that non-answer but you're not sure. He mirrors your position, falling into the couch with a sigh. From your peripheral vision, you think he's scooched closer to you, just by a few centimeters, in the process of settling into the sofa.

"My turn," you say. "Why do you want me here?"

"What is this, 21 questions?"

You shrug simply. "You asked me to come in. I'm just curious."

When Seungmin stays silent for a beat too long, you turn your head to watch him, thinking maybe he's knocked out because of the alcohol in his system. But you find him wide awake, his eyes staring ahead, looking like he's already sober.

His face is unreadable when he says, "Wanted to see something."

"See what?"

"See if something is still there."

It's your turn to remain quiet as you process his words, and it's Seungmin who has to turn to gauge your reaction.

"And? Is anything still there?" you ask.

"I don't know, you tell me. You're the one that stayed."

"Does it matter? If I say there is?"

"Of course it does."

"What would you do about it?"

He goes still once more. You know he doesn't have an answer to your question. What would he do? What could he even do? Patch things up only for them to fall apart again in a couple months? Once upon a time, you were naive enough to think that you could find a way to make it work. You had enough blind faith to think that it would all work out in the end; that if you wanted it enough, maybe the universe would let you have this one thing.

You return your gaze to the ceiling. He's shown you his cards, maybe it's only fair that you show him some of yours too.

An uncertain inhale, then the realization that this is the only time you would be able to have an honest conversation with him about this.

"Wanna hear something funny?" you ask.

"I have a feeling you're gonna tell me anyway."

It's anything but funny, and Seungmin is certain that you're not building up to a punchline. Sure, it's a little tragic that nothing matters, but there's some freedom, some comfort in that too. You can tell him everything that's plagued your mind for the past couple hundred days or so without having to worry about the repercussions. Even though not all is said, everything is already done.

"You know, you were mine before you were anyone else's," you say. You feel his eyes on the side of your face. The silence persists, and you aren't sure if you can take it as a sign to continue, but you do so anyway because at least he's not pumping the brakes on it, right? "I used to be jealous of your life. Toward the end, I mean."

"Jealous of what?"

"I don't know. Just your life, your dream. All of it."

Seungmin blinks. "You were jealous that I got to live my dream?"

"I said I was jealous of your life, not you," you correct him. "Because you always seemed to want everything else more than you wanted me."

"You make it sound like I was the bad guy." He turns a little defensive all of a sudden, an edge in his voice when he says, "That's not true."

You still remember him well enough to know that it is.

And it's not such a terrible thing; it's simply the truth. You can't fault him for having a dream and for having enough courage to see it through, even if it means unintentionally leaving you behind in the process. You could foresee the end even from the beginning. If you wanted to blame someone, you would have to blame yourself too.

You swerve around his metaphorical walls, his make-believe suit of armor. If you'd been nervous around Seungmin tonight, then that anxiety is now chipping away brick by brick the more you internalize the fact that nothing matters anymore.

"Remember your last show before we broke up? You were so happy, I was so proud of you. You belong on stage and I never wanted to take that away from you. But then I noticed the crowd, the thousands of people out there cheering your name and I realized that I would never compare to them. Their praise meant more to you than mine, and it was only a matter of time before you outgrew me to look for bigger and better spotlights.

"I'm not saying you were wrong for any of it. I don't blame you. You were always going to outgrow me. It's sad, but it's okay. I always knew that you'd have to leave me behind at some point. It's on me too; I just fell too hard too fast for someone who could never stay. It's your dream, you can't help it. But that night... that was the nail in the coffin for me, knowing that one day, to you, I would be just one of the faces in a crowd that you can't even tell apart."

It doesn't hurt as much as you thought it would. In fact, it's even a little cathartic to pour out the words that have been sitting heavy on your chest. Although it's not until a single tear spills over that you realize your eyes have welled up somewhere along the way. You quickly wipe it away with your thumb, then you feel his hand reach for yours after a few beats.

Seungmin calls your name, and you can hear the regret in his voice. When you look at him, his eyes have softened, no longer on the defense now that you've beat him to the offense. "I'm not drunk enough to forget about this in the morning, you know," he says.

"Does it matter? What are you going to do about it in the morning?" you ask. "We're already broken up. It's not like we can go anywhere from here. But at least now you know what it was like for me."

It seems to be a common theme tonight - stretches of silence in between admissions of truth so that one of you can gauge the other's reaction, trying to assess what path would be worth it to take at this crossroad you find yourselves unable to move on from.

Then he's tugging on your hand, pulling you to him until you're in each other's orbit again. Close enough for him to wrap his arm around you. Close enough that you're weak, not that you were ever that strong to begin with. It doesn't really come as a surprise that you let him.

"I..." Seungmin starts, full of uncertainty as he tries to string together a sentence. "We could go back."

This isn't a surprise either, that you're considering his words.

"What happens when it ends again?"

You can practically taste the residual bourbon on his breath when he leans into you, his lips brushing your cheek just slightly. "Then it ends again," he says, a little pained, all too selfish. "But it'll be worth it. It's worth it to me."

"What if it's not what I want? What if it's not worth it to me?"

He pulls back, putting some distance between your faces so he could see you better, the deep brown of his eyes searching for something that you're both aware of.

"You came tonight," he murmurs, as if that in and of itself is a sufficient enough explanation. "You stayed."

Not all is said, but everything is already done.

You had chance after chance after chance to leave, to shut this down - whatever this is - but you didn't, not even once. You're still a willing participant even though you've lived through this ending before. You know he loved you, know he loves you even if the way he goes about it is selfish.

Because you do know the answer to his questions. It's clear as day; anyone can see it from a mile away.

When your world eventually comes crashing down again some time from now, you won't blame Seungmin. You won't blame yourself either, despite having option to walk away from all of this right now.

Because maybe some pains are worth enduring twice, aren't they?

Why did you come? Why did you stay?

Is anything still there?

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