#despite me feeling like i've only gotten better as a friend and as a person

[musashi]

every time i have a mental health episode i like have my initial freakout about being alone and needing someone to talk to and then in like the 11th hour when i'm long past the pain i am like flooded with love and support and instead of responding positively to it i just get really fucking scared, feel like i have manipulated everyone into caring about me, and hide in a fucking hole for days until it all blows over.

genuinely i just wish i had someone who would see me be like 'I HAD A BAD DAY AT WORK' and dm me like 'do you wanna talk about it? or do you want me to talk to you about franmaya.' and then we do that and i'm fine in 5 mins. but it's always either dead silence or walls of text about how great i am and it's just two different forms of torture like how do i respond to this besides just crying and isolating myself entirely.

[ubike-official]

date back on for sunday now. His friend is okay. thank god. And uhhh, yea now we're finally be fr about the "hey we met on a dating, lets be so fr about what our experience has been" uncharted territory besties. we're not at "so what are you looking for?" but i already essentially told him my approach is to just really try getting to know ppl i find interesting and letting a spark develop from there w/o pressure. kinda like in school where you consistently see people in casual settings. and he thought it was a good plan so uh. here we are.

[yesimwriting]

Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

----

The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

[residenthughes]

persuasion - jack hughes

pairing: jack hughes x fem reader

word count: 5.7k

tags/warnings: college/university au, fluff, slight angst?, fratboy! jack (he's sweet in this, dw), mentions of alcohol/drinking, no mention of y/n

summary: you get a bit more than you bargained for when paired up with all-american hockey star, jack hughes.

notes: hi. it's been a (long) while since i've posted on here. not to mention, i'm back writing about someone a bit different 😭 but i've recently gotten into the nhl and this fic is the result of me drunkenly coming across this photo a few days ago. despite the changes on this blog, i hope this post finds you well and that you enjoy this (poor) attempt of me getting back into writing. much love <3

The end of the semester couldn’t have come sooner. Swapped with what was possibly the busiest you’ve ever been, the sweet relief after submitting your last assignment was unparalleled and lulled you to a much deserved slumber, only to be awoken by a barrage of messages pinging from your bedside table. Disgruntled, your arm extends in search of your phone, groaning into your damp pillow as you blink away the tired film coating your eyes and read the messages from your best friend.

frat house party tonight, presence is mandatory! 

all the girlies are onboard, your sexy ass better be ready by 9!

Another groan emits from you, exhaustion seeping through your bones at the mere mention of doing something else besides rotting in bed. You’re about to type some incoherent excuse, but your best friend beats you to it.

apparently, z and his guys are going. 

chances are jack’s there too.

There’s a messy stutter in your chest upon reading the message and suddenly, you’re more awake than before as you gingerly sit yourself up in your bed. Of course, she’d mention he was going just to convince you further. You weren’t even aware she knew of your crush. Considering you hadn’t mentioned him much besides when asked, his name being referenced feels more intrusive than it should be. Then again, as perceptive as she is, there was no denying the fact.

Jack and yourself had worked on a group project earlier in the semester, which is how the two of you had crossed paths. Upon hearing of the task at hand, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh because you were never a fan of working with others you didn’t know, but considering none of your friends took your class, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to get to know others and build your social circle. When your assigned group had got together towards the end of the lecture to discuss formalities and such, you hadn’t expected the whirlwind that was to come in the presence of a sandy brunette haired boy. 

Jack is as easy-going as he is charming. Cracks a couple jokes and suddenly, all the ice isolating your group dissolves to water and there are constant hums of conversation bouncing off every member of your group. He’s nice too, considerate of everyone’s schedule and what tasks they felt confident in completing, never uttering a word of complaint unless warranted. It’s interesting, he’s interesting, you think to yourself. Perhaps due to the fact that since he’d revealed himself to be in a frat, you had some preconceived notions as to what his personality would be like and maybe at times, he’d fit that stereotype to a tee, there were other times he’d stray away from it completely and leave you curious as ever.

Peculiar is what you’d describe those few weeks to be, your interest gravitating towards any relation to Jack. Heart beating as you walked past your university’s ice arena, knowing he practically lived on the ice beyond his time in class. Eyes lighting up when he texted in the group chat, mental fuzziness plaguing you every time you sat across from one another as you completed your portion of work in the university’s library. You’d be a fool to dismiss the budding attraction you felt towards him, spinning your world round but also leaving you feeling so unsure of everything, yourself included. There’s no scarcity of girls who like him, it proved to be difficult resisting the All-American hockey star with looks to match. However, taking into account the sheer volume of attention directed his way everyday, your lingering glances didn’t seem to be much more significant. So, one-sided this crush remains to you, storing away the quiet memories of shared laughs and time spent together in a place close to your heart. 

That was until he invited you to his game, shortly after your project had been submitted for assessment. You wanted to go, you wanted to go so badly that you agonised over the decision for longer than necessary, but ultimately, as you laid awake that night, eyes blazing red with fatigue, doom scrolling to further delay your dreams, the evidence for your answer surfaced. It was nothing but a silly Instagram post from one of his friends, Trevor Zegras, the boyfriend to one of your friends. A collection of typical photos: the boys, hockey and more of the antics they got to. It’s in the last slide where in the background of a recent football game is none other than Jack, in all his handsome glory, grinning ear to ear as a girl envelopes him in a hug that feels too intimate to be seen. Embarrassment runs your skin hot and jealousy leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, the thought of you entertaining anything more than platonic with Jack a pipedream at best. Naturally, there can be so many explanations for the photo, but what rings true is that you’ve made yourself vulnerable to heartbreak, which is nowhere to be found on your agenda. So, you call it a night, turning off your phone and hoping to put the crush behind you come tomorrow.

And, it works for a bit. Jack doesn’t text you further and you don’t run into him on campus. Summer soon approaches and the last few days before your break have you buzzing with excitement for all the plans you have lined up. Your world doesn’t hinge on every interaction you have with Jack and your mind is freed from the shackles of mulling over every detail in said interaction. It’s liberating and you’d like to keep it that way. A fleeting crush, you reason, all said and done with. A mantra you repeat to yourself as you respond back to your best friend, gleaming as you and your group chat discuss outfits options and pinterest inspired makeup looks. 

-

There’s nothing better than being with your girls, you’re reminded, as the buzzing excitement never fizzles as the night stretches on. Controlled chaos dominates the night as you pack into one friend’s rooms to get ready together, helping each other with eyelash extensions and annoying back zippers. Someone makes the suggestion to drop by the campus bar for a drink or two, just to ease the nerves, and it turns out to be a great idea because by the time you stumble out of the bar and towards the frat house, the party’s in full swing. 

Trashed lawn and red cup galore, the music somehow manages to reach outside the house with hoards of people dotted around and inside the house. With the merry buzz you’ve got from the bar, confidence details your movements as you lead your friends with clasped hands into the packed house, mumbling a thousand ‘sorry’s as you trample on through the crowded hallways to find yourselves in one (?) of the living rooms. 

Hands suddenly grasp at yours and you’re thrown into a fit of giggles as your friends tangle themselves up in a messy but fun dance. You follow suit, fully relishing in the euphoria of the night and the found family you have in these girls as you dance and chatter until you have no choice to venture into the kitchen for a refreshment. 

Surprisingly, the kitchen is vacant as you push through towards its door you were directed to, scanning the room amongst belongings to find some mixer for your helping of vodka stashed away in your purse. Despite your better judgement, you resort to apprehensively searching through cupboards on your tippy toes in search for mixer and as you’re about to open the last cupboard, the kitchen door opens. 

“Looking for something?”

Goosebumps arise and your heart stills. You know that voice like the back of your hand, the same voice that echoes in the back of your mind and whispers sweet nothings in your ear when you dream. The fact that he’s so ingrained in your memory makes you curse at yourself, teeth gnawing on the plumpiness of your bottom lip as you attempt to recollect your racing thoughts. With a quiet breath, you sink back from your elevated posture and turn towards the source of the voice, blinking like a deer caught in the headlights. 

It’s comical how such a simple sight renders you a loss for words. In the doorway of the large kitchen stands Jack, shoulder and head leaning against the doorframe as he looks at you with an expectant look and a cheeky grin to match. His legs are crossed at the ankles and he’s holding a beer, but he’s got this pearl white long sleeved polo on with washed out jeans and a black snapback to top it all off. The outfit in itself is so simple and yet, here you are, heart being sent into overdrive as the effortless combo drives you wild. Sets your skin alight and conjures up electricity that pulses through you like wildfire.

“Lemonade,” you gracefully croak out, gesturing towards your empty red cup. “I didn’t bring much to mix my drink with.”

“Here, I’ll help you with that,” he reassures you, bouncing off the door frame as he draws closer to you, your feet absently shifting a few steps backwards. “No need to back up. I don’t bite, you know?”

You huff at the comment, realising how foolish his mere presence makes you and will yourself to relax, shoulders easing down from your ears as you watch Jack search through the cupboards. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, pulling out a large bottle of lemonade that coasts against the marble of the countertop. 

“Feel free to use as much as you like, I never usually have this myself anyways.” insists Jack, turning himself around with his back against the countertop, arms crossed his chest with a peering eye directed to you. 

“How thoughtful of you.” you jester as a brief chuckle is shared between the two of you, the loud thumps of heavy bass music sounding from beyond the kitchen door as silence settles between the two of you. 

“It’s been a while, how’ve you been?” he asks, undivided attention focused on you as you pour the last of the lemonade. If not for the embarrassment of spilling your drink in front of him, the unsolicited awareness he’s currently given you would have resulted in exactly that, so you stop yourself and give him a convincing smile.

“I’ve been good, thanks. It’s the end of the academic year, I have no more complaints,” you muse, bringing the cup to your lips as you peer over the rim to look at Jack, his long lashes fluttering as his focus remains you. Your heartbeat picks up its pace. “What about you? Frozen four’s a big deal, but winning the championship is even bigger.”

Jack gives a lighthearted laugh, smugness adjusting his posture as his shoulders move back and his chest puffs out. Meanwhile, he gives this half shrug and grin that has heat gravitating towards the apples of your cheeks. It’s one of the things you like about Jack, how confident and sure of himself he is without it being overbearing and unappealing. It feels assuring, not having to dim your own light for the sake of his own comfort. 

“Yeah, that was nuts, I can’t lie. We had a really good run and I think our efforts really showed for themselves in that case,” Jack responds, taking a swig of his beer. “Christ, I sound like I’m talking to the media or something.”

“Well, consider this practice for when you join Jersey in the future,” you simper, snickering as you take a sip of your own drink. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty of fun speaking to the media.”

He gives an eyeroll, amusement prominent in the way his eyes twinkle and you can't help but laugh more. “So you say. How did you even know about Jersey?”

Your laugh is cut short, ice cold realisation washing over you like a bad hangover as his words hang in the air like a gauntlet waiting for its descent. Of course, this was nothing to be caught off-guard by considering how much your university boasts about how Jack, amongst other talented players, were drafted before committing to your university. However, the painful memory of you awake one late night doesn’t escape you, said night spent hesitantly typing his name into Google to come across all the info you knew to confirm how great of a hockey player he was. You feel shameful even looking him in the eyes right now.

So, your eyes stray from him, the somewhat sticky floor being the source of all your interest. “Who doesn’t know? Our uni does a good job of reminding us of everyone that’s been drafted.” 

You decide to spare a glance at Jack, taking in how a pinkish hue decorates the surface of his cheeks as his lone hand goes to scratch the back of his neck. The timidity that clouds his movement evokes a simper out of you, one that you direct into your cup, its contents rapidly draining under the weight of your continued conversation.

“Oh, man. Maybe, I shouldn’t have asked that,” he jokes, smile all pearly white and heart fluttering. “Can’t blame a guy for being nervous, no?”

“Nerv-”

Suddenly, the kitchen door bursts open and a flood of drunken students come barrelling in, hollering as their drinks splash to the floor and chaos ensues. You’re just as confused at their unexpected appearance as you are at the comment Jack made, but before you have a chance to ponder further, a warm hand settles against the small of your back followed by the gentle waft of Jack’s aftershave, a mixture sea salt with a hint of lavender and spicy nutmeg. It takes everything in you for your knees not to buckle.

“Let’s head out back.” he whispers, breath fanning over your neck as his fingertips ignite fire against your skin. 

Abruptly, you clear your throat, mindlessly nodding along as you blindly follow him out back, Jack’s larger build serving as a shield of sorts as he seamlessly navigates his way through the hordes of students. He does so with your hand in his and as much as your internal monologue unleashes panicked squeals at the contact, you revel in his touch - calloused hands that hold yours like porcelain, warm hands that match together like the universe and all its stars. 

A cool breeze blankets your skin and your focus shifts from your inner thoughts, taking in the generous and lush green outdoor space with sparse camping chairs circling a bonfire and a large tree further up ahead draped in fairy lights. There’s some people here too, but the atmosphere is a 180 from the mayhem inside, hushed light-hearted conversations exchanged beside the lit bonfire with the faint smell of weed filtering through the crisp air. The dazzling fairy lights blind you into bumping into Jack’s back, apologising with a laugh before he collapses onto the daisy white hammock before you. 

You follow suit with the carefree attitude Jack gives you, but you miscalculate horrendously because you don’t fall into the place beside your crush, but into his lap. Shock runs through your veins like ice as your bewilderment freezes you in place, mouth gaping open as you turn to face Jack in absolute horror. He seems to fare better with the unexpected contact, enlarged azure eyes showing his awe and yet his hands are in all the right places - supporting your waist as your weightless body struggles to hold its own. 

“I’m-“ the hairs on your neck are standing and you’re close to crying, the heat of your mortification burning your body hot like a furnace. “-so sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t even-“

“Relax, you’re good,” the chill of his beer against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, the feeling intensifying by the thousands as Jack’s thumb gives your exposed skin the smallest caress. You’re sure you’re the personification of shock at how every inch of your features displays pure alarm. “Unless this was your plan?”

You’re shoving him before your brain is able to comprehend its commands, your flustered state leaping out of his lap and collapsing back alongside him this time, hands clasped over your eyes as you take the time to maybe calm down. “What frat house even has a hammock anyways?”

“Rachel - Z’s girl - thought it’d be a nice touch for the garden,” you hear Jack mumble, but you’re too busy nursing your ego to fully immerse in conversation. “You’re friends with her, right? You guys came in together.” 

“Keeping an eye out for me, Hughes?” 

Apparently, your ego isn’t as bruised to make such a comment, a smirk finding itself onto the surface of your face as you’ve yet to remove your hand from your vision.

“It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.” 

You freeze in place, the heaviness in your stomach incomparable with the hammering of your heart against your chest as your brain picks apart Jack’s comment at the speed of light. None of the comments Jack has made throughout your entire conversation have gone over your head, the flirty undertones as clear as day. He wasn’t as up front with his compliments when you two first started working together, the furthest compliment he’d given denoting how nice you looked despite rolling out of bed twenty minutes beforehand. His directness makes your eyebrows furrow, or rather his intentions have you looking around as if you could find some answers. Perhaps this is how Jack is at parties - all pleasant with a careful flirtation that gradually pulls you inwards. Or maybe, this simply is the case of him showing his interest in you. The concept is not lost on you, but there is still apprehension that manifests within you, for reasons you are yet to discover.

You’re about to say something, your parted lips issuing a single incoherent syllable that dissolves on your tongue when the faint murmur of country music from a group of guys up ahead takes your notice, Jack’s nose scrunching with delight as he exclaims, “Ah, what a banger.”

Your eyebrow quirks upwards, merriment spreading against your features. “I never pegged you as the country type.” 

“Well, I’m not a Drake guy, I’ll tell you that much.” Jack shifts in his seat, extending his arm out behind your back. 

“So, a belieber then?” you jester, taunting eyebrows raised as you can’t keep your snicker to yourself when you watch Jack roll his eyes with the same grin.

“If that makes you happy, then yeah,” Jack reasons nonchalantly, whereas you make a pathetic attempt at stopping the stammer in your chest. “But no, that’s pretty much all that plays when my brothers and I wakesurf in the summer, unless Z is on the aux. Then, he and Quinn have a go at each other for it.”

Chuckles emit from your lips as you picture the image of a sunny summer day out on a boat, Jack’s older brother, Quinn, and Trevor becoming enemies of silence as they bicker over music choices. A warm fuzziness embraces you, the image placing you right beside Jack as laughter bubbles between the two of you whilst Luke wakesurfs in the background. It’s a honeyed depiction, all rose-tinted and for you to hold close to your heart along with other fantasies you allow yourself to entertain.

“We’re planning on going back to our summer house upstate where we do loads of other stuff,” Jack trails off, his fingers tapping against the glass of his bottle as you two share a look between each other. His eyes flicker downwards almost immediately, the top of his ears crimsoning. “You should stop by sometime. It’d be good to see you over the summer.”

For someone as confident as Jack, these rare glimpses of timidity demonstrate themselves as a pure anomaly. So, you can imagine your surprise at not only his incredibly generous offer but also his sheepish demeanour; gaze never aligning with yours as you feel his fingers fiddle with the material of the hammock behind your back. The sight enamours you, a rush of endearment washing over you as you lean into the feeling, not bothering to hide the wide smile growing across the expanse of your face. 

If this is what awaits you at their summer house, you’re already packed and ready to go.

“I could be persuaded.” Jack’s already rolling his eyes and against his better judgement, he finds himself chuckling with you too. 

When your amusement blends into the night sky, Jack's eyelids fall halfway, gaze steady as he mirrors your prior smirk that’s all but gone with the quiet wind. “And, what would that involve?” 

A moment is shared between the two of you. Burning bright like a star and erupting fireworks in your fingertips as your eyes linger on one another longer than explanatory. The landscape of his dotted moles capture your attention first, your sight leading itself to the galaxy-like twinkle dazzling in the ocean blue of his eyes. It’s so precious, this point in time - so delicate and intimate that it feels like a secret, whispers of infatuation pulling you together by their invisible strings as Jack’s extended arm circles your shoulders. You lean in, the temptation of his lips calling your name. Earlier restlessness ceases to exist as your movements read as second nature, the bruising of your chest accompanying the fuzziness that dances in your stomach as Jack leans into too.

“Yo, Jack!”

The moment is all but gone, burst like a bubble as both your heads turn in the direction of the voice, spying one of Jack’s friends, Cole, standing on the porch with a hand clasped around his mouth.

“Get your ass in here, we’re playing Jenga!”

A string of unpleasantries filter through Jack’s mouth in the form of a murmur, remnants of your interrupted kiss lingering as Jack gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and gives you the most apologetic look you’ve ever seen. Puppy eyes and pouty lips, an image you lock away in your heart forever. 

“Did you wanna head in?” He gives you the choice, head tilted to the side as he studies your expression whilst you ponder the inquiry.

The almost kiss is something to behold and if this has occurred weeks prior amidst the intensity of your crush, you would have begged and pleaded to stay, hinging on the hopes of whatever this is being fabricated once again to fulfil your fondness dreams. But, this feels different. It feels sold, as opposed to balancing upon shaky possibilities. This is undeniable, a point in time that is infinite and kissed upon by destiny. A junction you can return to time and time again.

“Yeah, I’m sure my friends are looking for me anyways,” you unravel yourself from Jack’s loose grip, hoisting yourself up before you turn to face him with a soft beam. His expression reads unsure, gaze scattered before he looks upwards before your sneakers knock against his impossibly white Air Forces. You nod towards the house, the giddiness building within you exceptional as your hand extends out to meet his. “Let’s head in together?”

It comes out more of a question than a statement, but you could care less when Jack gives you that soft smile that’s only reserved for you, grabbing a hold of your hand after he brings himself off the hammock before you proceed to return back to the party.

The bustling atmosphere appears to have maintained itself in your absence, hundreds of conversations mixing in with the booming sounds of some bass heavy hip hop song. You nod your head to the beat, grinning when you see familiar faces in the crowd as you trail behind Jack yet again, following him in promise of your friends who Cole had mentioned joined their group’s game of Jenga. You make do with getting down the stairs of the basement without tumbling due to their frigid nature, face instantly lighting up as you catch sight of your friends, collapsing into a fit of excited hugs and shared giggles as you all catch up on the events of the party.

Amidst all the dialogue, some of which you’re assuming Jack’s sorority brothers and friends make quick work of getting the bare room ready, arranging beers for everyone as the box of Jenga is brought out. The weight of concentrated eyes seers into your goosebump-riddled skin and by the time you volunteer to assemble the Jenga tower, you’re more than aware of Jack’s attention on you. Even with how overflowing the confidence you possessed was as you left the back garden, the heat of his gaze reduces you to a sheepish mess, antsy hands uncertain of their movements as you attempt to achieve some standard of normalcy, your eyes avoiding his. It’s when your hands accidentally touch that you cannot avoid it much longer, peering through clumpy eyelashes with a flush that feels as vivid as painted glass. 

A lone corner of his lips inclines, his look of allurement tangled with blatant attraction enough to make you knock over some of the Jenga pieces. A deep chorus of disapproving sounds holler at your actions, your sheepishness fended off by the laughter amongst you and Jack as you continue to assemble the tower again, this serving as the last of your communication before the Jenga game commences.

Every Jenga piece taken out of the tower involves a dare that has laughter erupting from the pits of your stomach or mouth gaping open at the gull others possess whilst intoxicated. With the muffled sounds of the music upstairs and endless talk in the room, merriment captures your heart in a gentle squeeze as the dares carry on, the harmless fun quickly becoming one of your favourite memories in recent times.

It’s your turn to go and the frat guys are already teasing you with endearing nicknames, putting a smile on your face as your hands steady to pull out a tricky Jenga piece with ease. Wooden block in hand, your line of vision skims the chicken scratch of a dare with an effortless glee that’s swiftly replaced with plentiful surprise.

“What does it say?!’ exclaims Trevor, the anticipation in his voice evident as he squeals his words.

You’re reducing to your meek self again, not daring to look upwards as you enunciate your words to aid your own comprehension. “Spend seven minutes in heaven with the player across from you.”

You’re unsure whether the universe has some really good jokes up their sleeve or this is just fate to begin with because when you lift your head up, already knowing, Jack’s amused facial expression speaks for itself.  

Hollers and cheers fill the room, enough pandemonium to make you crimson as you stumble to your feet, casting a peek at your best friend with a cross between disbelief and delight. Your best friend, the same one that texted you about Jack’s presence at the party tonight, bawls her hand into a tight fist, bringing it to her chest as a sign of victory with mischief painted all over her. The ridiculousness of this farce eliminates you from ruminating about what awaits you in the closet a mere metres away. The guy most pleased with the situation opens the closet door, a few brooms pushed back into the compact space that is surprisingly clean with no cobwebs or dust in sight.

“All clean and ready for you two lovebirds,” Trevor grins with the keenness of a kid in a candy store, pushing back his long locks of hair as he sends a wink your way. “Don’t get too carried away in there, you’ve only got seven minutes.”

Jack says something in reply to Trevor’s cheeky comment but you’re too preoccupied by your own thoughts, feet carrying you to the fate of your Jenga dare as the door closes and darkness shrouds you. 

It’s silent for a minute, nothing but soft breaths and dulled whispers from outside the closet door. The closet is dangerously compact, your back up against the wall not sparing you from establishing your own personal space, the slightest shift of your shoes inevitably going to knock against Jack’s. Outside in the back garden feels so far away now, slipping through your hands as if sand with the daunting weight of unsaid expectations folding your arms and clearing a stubborn croak in your throat.

As the seconds tick on and no communication is shared, the everlasting laps you round around your mind exhaust you for the last time and you decide to face whatever this is head on, a start being making eye contact with the man that makes it the hardest thing in the world. However, with the tiniest sliver of dimmed light peaking through underneath the closet door, you can see him. Jack, in all his glory - soft and boyish, all charming in nature. The round pool blue of his eyes and the moles that dot his skin like constellations. It’s a rush of emotions, all raw and bare, to overwhelm and comfort you, with the easiness of his smile that directs your way and warms your heart like no other.

“We don’t have to do anything in here, I’d never do anything to make you uncomfortable,” Jack explains, his hand reaching to drag down one side of his face as his eyes cast away. “I hope you know that.”

This - you feel resolute in - establishing some sense of security in this room as you smile up at Jack. “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” 

There’s a double meaning in your words and you don’t bother to correct yourself, reading in between the lines cementing itself as your favourite pastime. But, Jack knows and so do you. Perhaps you knew all along that every nook and cranny in your heart was specially reserved for Jack and no other could do. Maybe, you spent so much time in your head because this unexplored territory felt like the birth of the universe, so big and beautiful that it had more questions than answers. A forbidden fruit of sorts - a sweet mirage that the more you pulled away, gravity pulled you right back. A place where you belonged - with him in this moment forever sealed between the two of you.

Jack offers a smile in the wake of your thoughts, timid yet teasing in nature and you can’t resist, in the almost dark of the closet, grin too because this was sealed from the very beginning. Alone with infamous fratboy Jack Hughes, under some sort of awkward pretence bringing you together because you let your fears get the best of you, a stark contrast to what they are now - engulfed in thoughts, feelings of your lips against his and how this charade will come to a close, the building tension boiling till it overflows

“Hey-” you both say at the same time, silencing as you chuckle at the unison you unite in.

“Ladies first.”

“I’m more interested in what you have to say.” 

Because there’s no doubt in your mind he’ll steal the words right out of your mouth, the mere thought of those words escaping his lips the centre of all your desires.

He pauses, eyes searching yours for confirmation which presents itself in the toothy grin he struggles not to reflect, canine sinking into the corner of his lips before he responds, “If you insist.”

Jack doesn’t miss a beat as he reaches for your hand, absently tracing patterns into the skin with a thoughtful hum that proceeds his words. 

“I think I’ve been a lot more straightforward with how I feel about you, but I’d like to chance to tell you right here that I’m interested in you, in being with you. To the point that the boys get sick of me yapping about it,” you chuckle at his comment, the humour of the joke distracting you from the flood of emotions that submerges you indefinitely. “I felt this way from the time we got assigned to work together. And, if maybe you had any reservations about us, I’d do whatever it takes so that they don’t exist because you’re what matters most and that will never change.”

No feeling can compare to this. It’s almost as if you’re experiencing the full spectrum of emotions for the first time, rejoicing in the sunshine Jack basks upon you in the wake of his confession. A mirage turned reality, the colours are bright and blinding and you’re so elated within yourself that you physically cannot do more than bring Jack’s hand to your cheek to kiss his palm. A confirmation that needs no words. 

The warmth of his hand against your cheek melts you into his skin, eyelids falling shut as you revel in the tender caresses of his thumb, of his love and the unspoken words between you. A graze against your throat has your eyes fluttering open, lips parted as Jack secures his hand gently against the nape of your neck. A soft inhale escapes you as his thumb traces the corner of your mouth, dilated pupils flickering between your own and your lips.

“Can I-”

“Yes, please.” 

A star is born at the centre of your lips as they fold over one another, blending seamlessly together as you move together in synchronised harmony. You taste the remnants of beer, inhale his musky cologne and send yourself flying into another universe as Jack holds you close for impact. All your brain knows to do is convey your sentiment tenfold, kissing him as if touch starved as your fingers thread through the curls of his hair. You commit this to memory - the slowness of the kiss, the scent of his apple shampoo and his curls around your fingers, the feathery feeling of your fluttering heart and the tenderness of your hearts beating as one. So sickeningly besotted with another that everything pales in comparison.

Reluctantly, you pull away from his soft lips when the shared oxygen between you two vanishes, eyes slow to open but ultimately capturing the part of Jack’s rouge lips that quiver in your wake, his gaze meeting yours moments later. 

You kiss him again for good measure.

“Alright, horny bastards. Time’s up!” Cole’s voice thunders from beyond the door.

Lips still pressed against Jack’s, you both smile into one last kiss, just as sweet as the last. Jack savours it for what it’s worth, forehead pressed against yours as you two stand together, bruised chests aching with all the yearning that can fit into your palms.

“Consider me persuaded.” 

[retroellie]

Daryl x reader but at first she gets on his nerves? Almost enemies to lovers

Summary: Daryl hated you, completely despised you. His hatred for you turned into something more after just one night with you.

A/N: This is probably the filthiest and longest thing I've ever written :). So enjoy asf!!! This was literally hell to write because i have writer's block right now so my mind is somewhere else right now

Warnings: NSFW, Degradation, Slapping/spanking, Daryl just being mean asf. Kind of a toxic relationship?!?

Word count: 8K

Daryl was at peace in this moment, complete and utter peace. The river slowly rushing against the earth, the soft wind blowing against his skin, the bright light of the sun bursting the stress from his face. Ever since he had gotten away from Alexandria he felt he was where he belonged, nature. Ever since he was a kid, rivers and forests were his safe haven. The only living thing to be seen was the animals and even then they were fearful of humans.

That's how Daryl felt in a way, fearful of humans and what they can do, that's why he resided with animals. They had their packs and stayed with them, never getting too close to other packs. It was just him and his home, of course with the dog too. But despite the healing of the river or the wind whispering into his ear, this wound could never be healed for Daryl. He was out here for a reason and this time it wasn't trying to run away from his dad.

It was for Rick, his friend, his family.... his brother. This was a deeper wound than any he'd ever had, mental or physical. He was angry, hurt, and guilty for what he had done, especially with the silence that came with nature. He looked for days on end, and those days turned to months, and months turned to years. He felt like he was going crazy, but he knew Rick was still alive and if he wasn't... he just needed to give the people that confirmation.

He took the knife and gutted it into the fish, cleaning it out until it was just the meat on its bones. It was a chilly day, enough to have the dog cuddled up on Daryl's leg as he gutted the fish. Daryl didn't mind the cold, he actually liked it better than the heat and it kept the dead away better. He continued his work, frying the fish on the fire as he poked at it softly, mesmerized by the crackles of the fire.

Suddenly a branch snapped behind Daryl, he didn't hesitate in pulling his crossbow from next to him and pointing it at the sound, ready to fire at any minute. He almost squeezed the trigger, almost letting the arrow go right into the head of his attacker. But suddenly his eyes made out who it was and realized it was you. His body feels relaxed but only to be filled with annoyance.

"It's just me!" You put your hands up in surrender, dropping what you had been holding in your hands.

Daryl watched as you shook, fearing that Daryl might actually shoot you at that moment. Daryl sighed, putting down his crossbow and rolling his eyes.

"Damn it, girl! I coulda killed you!" Daryl yelled. Of course, the first time he talks in days is to scold you for something.

Daryl sat back down in his spot, throwing down his crossbow in anger as he went back to cooking his fish. He suddenly wished he would've pulled the trigger, maybe then he could tell everyone it was an accident.... as if anyone could miss you. If Daryl said he hated you, it was an understatement. He despised you, he wondered how you survived this long without a bullet to your head.

"I know... I'm sorry.." You tried to defend yourself. "Carol asked me to drop some stuff off... I didn't mean to scare you.."

You bent down to gather what you had in your hands, the bag you had broken when you dropped it. You shoved everything in the bag and stood up, standing still as you watched Daryl cook his fish. You never knew why Daryl couldn't stand you, it made you a bit sad at first because you envied him. You thought he was the coolest person ever, with his crossbow and his motorcycle. Part of you thought it was because you genuinely thought he was a cool person but the other half knew it was because of what he did to your underwear.

"Carol told me to bring you more arrows and some extra clothes... I threw some food...." You went to finish but Daryl was annoyed by your voice already, wanting you to shut up and leave already.

"Why couldn't she do it?" He interrupted

You forgot how much of an asshole he was and at that moment, you were kind of glad he was staying out here instead of in Alexandria. The only reason you liked him staying at Alexandria is how his arms looked when he was working on his bike... but that's all it was to you, just a silly little crush or not even that, you'd be more than okay if he fucked you and dipped. You cleared your throat, collected your words, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Oh well... Henry is sick, he has some kind of stomach bug and well I was at the kingdom so she asked if I could bring it to you on the w..." Once again you can't even get your words out without Daryl being a complete dick to you.

"I didn't ask for a story." He said sternly, not even looking at you but you knew his face had that ugly, yet strangely arousing, annoyed look written all over it.

You sharply inhaled, slightly hurt at his words. You just stood there though, not sure what to do next. You could just throw his shit down or not and leave, but unfortunately, you were too tired to go on. You had been walking all day and here to Alexandria would be at least another 3 hours. You just thought maybe some rest would be nice, maybe a bit of that fish he was cooking but you knew Daryl.

Daryl hadn't liked you ever since you two had met, he was always such a dick to you and you had no idea why literally no idea. You were always respectful to him, saying please and thank you, sometimes shooting him a soft smile when you would catch each other in the same room. He always put you down so fast, sometimes just his facial expression when he would look at you was enough for you to go home crying.

"You can leave now, you did your job." He pulled you out of your thoughts.

His eyes still didn't reveal themselves to you, but you knew the stank eye he'd be giving you right now. The thought of it just made your stomach do turns, but the thing you were about to ask made it drop completely.

"That's the thing... you know it's getting late, by the time I get back on the main roads it'll be pitch black, and well I've been walking all..." You don't even know why you keep trying to explain anything to him at this point.

"Get to the point.." He said, annoyance dripping from his mouth. You sighed and rolled your eyes, standing up straight so you could at least look like you were not about to cry or throw a tantrum.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night... I'll be out of your hair by dawn tomorrow." You pleaded almost, which made you cringe a bit.

Daryl stayed silent for a minute, just poking at the fire softly as he rubbed the dog's head. Daryl almost gagged at the thought of you staying with him, even just for a night. It reminded him of when you guys were on the road together with everyone else, you always ended up sleeping next to him and he hated it. You would take up such a little room but Daryl felt like that was more than you needed, he would huff and puff. Not to mention how tight his pants would get when we saw you in only a tank top, how your breasts would push themselves together as you snored softly. How your pretty lips would part themselves, almost as if you were teasing him even in your sleep.

Daryl thought for a minute, he really didn't want you here. Your presence would just be so irritating to Daryl, he would know you were only 2 feet away from him at all times and that frustrated Daryl. You would be prancing around his safe space, breast sticking out, voice laced with sugar as you spoke, and presenting your ass to Daryl while you picked something up. The thought made Daryl go cold and he wanted to kick you out then and there. Call Daryl old-fashioned but he was against kicking out a young girl for safety just because of one's annoyance.

"Ya, you will be..." Daryl stated, standing up and making his way over to you, snatching the bag from your hand. "You can stay for the night... but you're gonna have to give me your weapons for the night and you owe me half of your food."

Fucking asshole... is all you could think of. You hated him, so fucking much it hurt. You have no idea what you had done to this man to make him hate you so much, it doesn't make sense to you but you needed some rest. You handed him your bag and watched him sit back down in the same spot, digging into the bag Carol had packed.

"Thank you, Daryl. I ap..." You decided at this moment to stop trying to speak.

"And no talking... I don't want to hear anything you gotta say, ya hear me?" He scolded, containing his digging into the bag.

"yes sir..." You bit back, trying your best not to start yelling at him about how childish he was being.

You brushed past Daryl to get some water from the river so you could get away from Daryl. Daryl's dick twitched at your use of "sir", he couldn't help the goosebumps that rose from his skin. He watched you walk your way down to the river, watching your tits bounce as you stormed off. He hated you with a burning passion but he couldn't deny that you had beautiful tits.

-

-

You couldn't sleep, you were so tired before you went to this shit show of a camp but now you couldn't sleep. You tossed and turned, the tent walls feeling like they were going to close on you. You could hear Daryl poking at the fire outside, trying to keep it burning as he kept an eye out. Daryl made you take the tent, he said he'd sleep outside with the dog, and that bothered you a bit.

Daryl was always so mean to you, literally telling you he wished you would fall off a cliff yet he gives you the tent? Maybe you were reading too deep into it, trying everything to believe your lie that he had an ounce of care for you in him. But that was odd behavior for someone like Daryl, especially towards you. That's why you think you can't sleep, not only did Daryl make you want to bawl your eyes out with how mean he was but also you were so confused about your own feelings.

You wanted to hate Daryl, you said you did but really you didn't. Every mean thing he said to you should've been enough for anyone to hate another person, but you simply couldn't. You wanted him to like you, you craved it. Every time you tried to be nice or help him with something, you felt like a teenage girl trying to get the attention of a boy. It was exhausting, but so frustrating. This behavior of his only created a fire in your belly, leaking out of your core.

The frustration of the day could only be dulled in one way, the warmth of your two fingers. It was a nightly ritual at this point, I mean at least Daryl's behavior is beneficial in one way right? But you couldn't do it in this tent that felt so suffocating, with Daryl's scent everywhere and his soft blanket against your bare thighs. No, you couldn't. It was gross, almost disgusting to do such a thing, especially for you.

You finally gave up on sleep, pulling your shorts back on and heading out of the tent. The wind hit you first, then the smoke of the fire, and then the eyes of Daryl. He looked already so annoyed, like just your presence was enough for him to be in a shitty mood. You smiled at him, pulling your jacket closer to your body as you sat down on the log in front of him.

"Couldn't sleep..." You whispered, sighing as you looked deep into other fires.

Daryl didn't make an expression towards that, only the same annoyed expression. Daryl couldn't help but watch your thighs out of the corner of his eye, watching them glow in the fire, making them look completely delicious. He tried to focus on keeping the fire alive but the hardening in his pants was almost impossible to ignore. He's never really had alone time with you, not one on one before, there was always another person so this was new to him. Honestly even more annoying like this because he could only imagine fucking you into the dirty ground, not able to escape these thoughts by annoying someone else.

"And why's that my problem?" He snapped back, his voice thick with tiredness and frustration.

You scoffed, looking at him with disbelief as your heart broke a little more. You were now at peak frustration and extremely exhausted, so you weren't going to just sit there and let it happen... not this time. You shook with anger, the wind doing nothing to cool you down. You just wanted to have a nice conversation with him, social interaction that you desperately needed from a day of being consumed by your own thoughts.

"You are such a dick you know that?" You spit out, your arms throwing themselves up as you let your anger out finally. "Jesus! I can't have one fucking conversation without you being such an asshole."

Daryl's blood goes cold, looking over at you as your eyes start tearing up due to your anger. He's never seen you so angry, he's never known that you cry when you get mad, he finds it... attractive. It makes his mind wander to what else makes you cry. Is there any emotion you feel too much? Do you cry? Or is this situation just that distressing to you? Daryl just stayed silent, finding it almost humorous how you actually cared what he thought and how worked up you were getting over it. You waited for a snarky reply or a cold comment about how annoying you were, but you were met with his cold blue eyes boring into your skin. That was it, that was enough to make you decide to pack up your stuff and get the hell out of there.

"Oh my fucking god... fuck you, Daryl, I mean seriously." You shot up from where you had been sitting and stood above him, the fire illuminating your furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes. "I mean are you fucking kidding me?!? why do you hate me? did I do something or are you just that fucking mean?"

Daryl stared up at you, watching you shiver as the wind hit your bare legs. Daryl asked himself that a lot too, why did he hate you? You really did do nothing to him, you were honestly extremely helpful and probably the kindest person he'd ever met. But that made him so upset. The innocence that radiated off of you, the pureness in your eyes, almost as if the world hadn't gotten to you yet. He found it unfair, how you were who you were in this world, it wasn't fair. The annoying sweetness that coated your voice was enough for him to go insane, he hated it.

That was only part of the hatred he felt for you, he wanted to completely defile you. He wanted to take that innocent little act of yours and fuck it out of you, he wanted to shut your silky soft voice up by fucking your voice box so hard it leave you speechless, wanted to crave scars into your skin as you begged him for more. He found these thoughts truly disgusting to even think, his own mind scolding him for letting the thoughts linger. He hated you for making him this crazy, making him so hard at night he couldn't be satisfied with his own hand he had to have you... so now he sat there looking up at you, watching as tears filled your eyes and your bare thighs were exposed.

Daryl grinned at your reaction, slowly standing up so he was towering over you. You looked scared, eyes filled with worry now as he made his way over to you. He was face to face with you now, you could feel his breath on his face and his eyes full of something... it wasn't anger, wasn't sadness, something in between yet not anywhere near.

"Ya' know, I do hate you Y/N" He says simply, making your bottom lip tremble as your tears finally escape your eyes. You knew it but it still hurt. "Ya' wanna know why or are you going to cry like the little bitch you are?"

His words took you back, this was a new all-time low for Daryl but for some reason, his words flew straight to your core and you had to press your legs together to ignore it. You stayed silent, not really knowing if you wanted to know or not but you had a feeling you had no choice. Daryl was going to tell you and all you could do was listen. You're breath hitched, wiping your tears with your sleeve as you watch him go to speak.

"I think yer stupid, and annoying, and a fucking worthless bitch who shouldn't have made it this far." His words shot bullet holes in your heart. "We shoulda left you where we found you. Ya bring no good into this group, you only hold us back."

You let out a sob, your heart quite literally being torn apart but you were still so needy all at once. You were used to mean, you were used to hurt but this felt nowhere close to what you've experienced before. You had gotten more frustrated simply because you still liked Daryl, you honestly would give anything for him to kiss you and it made your lips burn with need. It felt like your head was going to explode, being degraded and loving every second of it was something you never thought you would be thinking at this moment.

"Ya wanna know something else..." Daryl whispered, taking his hand and pushing your hair back out of your face as tears streamed down your face. He then lifted your chin to force you to look at him. "It's annoying how you act all innocent... prancing around in short shorts with your tits hanging out, acting like you aren't just trying to get fucked."

You look into his blue eyes, trembling as you feel his hand placed on your chin. You didn't realize how close you had gotten to him, how your body was almost pressed against his as he degraded you. You let a couple of soft whimpers out, feeling as Daryl wiped a tear away from your eye as he bites his lip.

"Ain't that right hm? All ya ever really wanted was to get fucked, just wanted to be used?" He spit out, you let out a soft moan as he continued to rest his hand on your chin, his heat filling your body. "want me to fuck ya?"

Your eyes widened, feeling like you were in a dream and you would wake up at any moment. You looked between his eyes and mouth as he spoke, his lips feeling like the only thing that could dull this heat inside of you. You nodded softly, biting your lip as you watched his mouth grow into a smirk. You expected him to place a soft kiss on your lips as he bent down to connect your lips, but you were met with a sharp pain in your left cheek. You gasped, not knowing what happened but then realized Daryl had smacked you. He didn't smack you too hard but it was enough to leave you in shock.

"wh..." You went to say but Daryl grabbed your throat roughly, it was a firm grip but not enough to hurt you.

"Use yer words... or are you too dumb for that?" He spits out, his words making your legs wobble slightly.

You felt lightheaded, you felt dizzy, you felt completely content in where you were right now. It was a crazy feeling, a feeling that was so intense it made you want to cry. You sniffled, clearing your throat so you could respond but the words were stuck in your throat. Daryl's eyes looked down on you with impatience, his teeth softly clenched as he waited for your words, the words he knew were hard for you to say.

"I...umm" You stuttered, lips quivering. "I want you.. to fuck me" You stated

Sex was new to you still, especially now since sex was the last thing on your mind half the time. This kind of sex, however, rough and mean sex was completely new to you. You weren't sure what to do or how to do it, do you mean back or do you just let it happen and enjoy the ride? You trusted Daryl though, no matter how mean he was to you, you still knew he wouldn't hurt you. Daryl smirked down at you, his rough hand still grasping onto your soft neck.

Daryl only knew hard sex, he'd never been in love or wanted to be in love so he was going to fuck you the only way he knew. He bent down to your lips, softly lingering above yours. You tried to reach up and touch his lips to yours but his hand on your neck kept you in place. Instead, he placed his lips on your nose, then your forehead then everywhere on your face but your lips. You were melting, just one kiss and you would be happy... you begged for just one kiss.

"How 'bout ya get in the tent hm?" He finally said after teasing you with his lips. "I'll be in, in a minute."

Daryl smirked down at you, letting go of your neck which was the only thing supporting your body right now. You looked surprised but also irritated as he teased you and not made you get into the tent. You huffed, rolling your eyes as you stomped into the tent. Daryl chuckled as you pouted, watching you stomp your feet to the tent. Daryl turned around and finished his fire poking, keeping it heated, making you wait.

You were pouting in the tent, arms crossed as you waited for him to come in. You couldn't sit still, you pressed your thighs together and tried to touch yourself through your jeans but nothing helped the ache. You were suddenly so hot, feeling like your skin was melting off in the small tent so you decided to take your shirt off and let the cool air consume it. You slowly started to tear each of your clothes off until you were only in your underwear and bra, you were about to take your bra off but Daryl had ripped through the tent and saw you. He was taken aback as he saw your bare body, not expecting it and it made him crazy.

You sat there like a deer in headlights as he stared down at you, hands suddenly laying at your thighs as you were just on your knees. Daryl's hand shook, wanting nothing more than to pounce on you already but he wanted to wait... he needed to wait. He got down on your level, the tent too small for him to stand in. He reached his hand out to your shoulder, placing his hand on it and slowly pulling down your bra strap. His touch made you shiver, goosebumps forming on your skin as he slowly undressed you or undressed what you had on still.

"You might be dumb..." He stated, bring his lips to your neck. "But you sure are fucking sexy..."

He then attacked your neck, giving you sloppy kisses on your skin as you softly moaned at his action. His other hand placed on your older shoulder and ripped your other bra strap down, attacking that side of your neck next. Your hands wandered his body, trying to pull him closer to you as you wanted him to touch you further. His soft lips sucked on your sensitive skin, making you squirm underneath his grasp.

"mm.. fuck.." You moaned out, causing Daryl to go crazy. He couldn't hold back himself anymore, he couldn't tease you or degrade you anymore. He needed you.

"Fuck it..." Daryl said, stopping his movements and lying down on his back.

You watched him wide as, watching as he pulled his pants down to his ankles and how his cock sprang out freely. Your mouth watered almost, wanting nothing more than to such him off and watch him unravel on your tongue. Daryl rubbed himself a bit, trying to have some friction while he waited for you. You forgot what you were doing at first, you're mind completely going blank as you watched him touch himself.

You were slightly worried, Daryl was big... a lot bigger than you thought he would be. You felt a bit nervous about how’d he fit, you were quite small, well at least a lot smaller than Daryl. Daryl continued rubbing himself up and down, watching you shiver at the thought of him being inside you. He could see how nervous you had gotten, how shy you had suddenly become as your thighs squeezed together.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to his blue eyes. "We can stop, pretend this didn't happen." He reassures, placing a hand on your arm comfortably.

You gave him a small smile, moving your body on top of his. You replaced his hand with your own as you slowly jerked him off, watching his mouth part open in surprise as you did so. Your sudden confidence was a huge turn-on for Daryl, causing him to become unbelievably hard under your grasp. This is what Daryl wanted from you, he wanted you to stop acting innocent and take what you wanted. You were meek and shy, you simply doing this was so out of character.

"You want me to stop?" You ask, watching Daryl grow harder as you stroked his cock up and down.

Daryl shot you a soft smile, pulling you down to connect your lips to his. It was hard, rough, and filled with passion. The feeling of your hand on his cock, the taste of your lips, and the feeling of your weight on top of him. He needed you, needed to see you bouncing on top of him as he ripped you open. He wanted to see the pain and pleasure wash over you until you went as crazy as he is at this moment, he would give the world just to see it.

"Fuck no... god..." He moaned out, as your hand's pace picked up. "Ride my cock sweet girl... wanna see how dirty you can get." He teased me.

You giggled at his words, but they went all to your core at once. A wave of slick escaped your cunt, dripping over Daryl's thighs. You gave into his needs, but you did it ever so carefully. You moved your waist to hover over his throbbing cock, his tip ever so slightly rubbing between your slit. You teased him slightly, almost putting his tip inside you but slipping it out once again. You could tell he was growing frustrated, you can see him hold back his urge to push you down on his cock. You could get off on this, his head softly massaging your cunt and his thrust up when it had reached your clit. You continued this movement, teasing him softly but in reality, it felt too good for you.

"Gonna get yourself in trouble if you keep it up..." He moaned out, moving his hands to your hips. His hands helped you move your body back and forth, the head of his cock nuzzling between your slits.

"feels so good..." You whisper, biting your lip softly. "The least you can do for being an a..." You forgot who you were with, the person who never lets you finish your sentence.

You were cut off by Daryl taking your hips, pushing them down until his cock was damn near bottomed out inside you. You let out a gasp, hunching over so your nails were dug into his chest. It hurt, it felt like you were being ripped open... but it sent a strange pain throughout your body. Inside of rejecting his cock, your body welcomed it, almost as if it's what you needed this entire time. You shook slightly, the head of his cock already hitting your g spot as you stayed still. Your body was still getting used to it, but every bone of your body craved you to move your hips. Daryl chuckled softly as your eyes prickled with tears and your string of curses filled the tent.

"Told ya... dumb slut never listens" Daryl spit out, sitting up so your hands could balance on his shoulders.

He didn't give you time to say anything else, he took it upon himself to help you get used to him. He thrusted his hips up, creating more pain/pleasure that coursed through your body. It was a delicious stink, creating screams like moans that flowed off your tongue. His hips started off slow, obviously not that much of an asshole to completely overwhelm your senses. He placed one hand on our waist, going between hard thrusts and rolling his hips to try to ease the sting.

After a few thrusts though, you get used to his cock stuffing your cunt and you feel yourself getting eager. You start to move your hips a little with his, your hips going against his own hips because you were so cock hungry you couldn't help yourself. Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving moon-shaped cuts along them. Your head threw itself back, letting Daryl fuck you harshly as you just enjoyed the ride. You would be surprised if your moans didn't attract walkers or raiders... they were almost screams at this point.

"Gonna fuck the dumb slut out of you... huh?" He started, moving his hand up to your hair and pulling it down to look at him. "Ain't that right... gonna fuck this pussy until that stupid little brain of yours start working.."

His hand in your hair forced you to look at him, his eyes blown out as he fucked your cunt so harshly, you couldn't help but drool. You shook slightly, something inside you snapped as you watched him huff and puff. Your hips suddenly had a mind of their own, they start rolling against his roughly, your eyes on his the entire time as you fuck yourself on his cock. You couldn't help it, your stomach burned and your cunt ached as you so badly wanted to get off. Your thrusts were rough, overpowering daryls at this point.

Daryl was taken back by this action, his hips starting to slow down as you created your own pace and your own way of fucking him. Daryl's hands rested on your hips though, helping you set a pace that felt good for the both of you but also let you take complete control. He never knew how pretty you could be, I mean of course he thought you were hot as fuck but he would never describe you as pretty... until now. The way you took him deep inside of you, the way your cunt clenched around him... maybe those were factors of why his view of you changed but maybe it went further than that.

Your thighs burned, your cunt ached, and your frustration grew. You so desperately wanted to get off, so your thrust was all over the place. You would start harder and deeper then your stamina would weaken, your thrusts turning slow and drawn out. It felt like it was happening on a loop, your frustration getting the best of you. Daryl's hands do a decent job setting your pace, but not enough to actually do anything. Daryl enjoyed this though, watching your frustration grow as you greedily tried to get off.

"Fuck... Daryl..." You groaned out, you couldn't even form words at this point. His cock hitting so deep inside you, it affects your speech. "please... I can't..."

Daryl grinned, hearing your pleas but basking in them. He brushed your hair from your face, loving the sight of your tears flowing down your face due to frustration and pleasure. He watched as you glistened in the moonlight, your skin beet red and your body soaked with sweat. Your hips slowed, still rocking back and forth but the pain in your hips felt unbearable now. You gave Daryl a pleading look, hoping he'd just be nice to you and give you what you wanted.

Daryl wasn't nice though, you knew this when you came into this. Daryl had disgusting things in mind for you, things that would leave you bruised and bloody. Daryl didn't know what nice was, especially when it came to fucking a "dumb slut". You fluttered your eyes at Daryl, your eyes telling him everything you wanted from him.

"What?" He asked, acting completely oblivious to what you wanted. "Can the dumb slut not get herself off? hmm..." He teased me.

You gulped down a comeback, afraid if you do he won't give you what you want. Daryl grinned, taking the hand in your hair and slowly moving it to your throat until it was wrapped around it. He gripped it hard, bringing your face down to meet him as he applied pressure to it.

"You are really that fucking stupid huh... Jesus christ." He spit out, watching you squirm above him, his cock still nestled deep inside you. "Fucking useless.."

You loved every second of his torment, of his degradation, of his anger. In one swift moment, Daryl threw you down onto the rough tent floor. You moaned softly, his cock being yanked out of your mouth and leaving you empty. Daryl wasn't done, he grabbed you roughly and set you on your hands and knees.

"I gotta do everything for you... too fucking stupid to do anything for yourself." He said, pushing your back down as he held your ass up. "Can't even ride a fucking cock right..."

Daryl rubbed your ass gently, watching you grip the blanket that was laid down for a makeshift bed. He dragged his fingers down your slit, feeling your throbbing cunt but dragging them back up to your ass. He could get off right now, cumming all over your back and drenching you with cum, seeing you like this just did that to him. He laid his hand flat down on your ass, putting it back high and then slamming it down on your bare ass.

You gasped, being shot forward as he spanked you. You weren't expecting it, the pain of the smack shooting through your veins and suddenly you wanted him to do it again. Never in your sexual life have you ever been spanked or slapped or degraded, it was something you could get used to. Daryl placed his hand on the red print on your ass, rubbing it softly as he watched your reaction to it. He knew it was foreign to you and he wanted to make sure you didn't have any objections to what he was doing. He leaned down slowly, kissing behind your ear and whispering into your ear.

"Are ya' still okay? We can stop now..." He wanted to hurt you but in the most pleasant and consensual way.

You took a minute to get a response, not because you had any second thoughts about what was happening. No, the silence was because you knew this would change you forever. This wouldn't just be a crush anymore, it would be more real. Even if Daryl just wanted a quick fuck, you would look at him differently whether you wanted to or not. If he did just want a quick fuck, you would feel as though you have been led on... because you did like him, and if that's all he wanted then it would break your heart. You look up at Daryl, watching as he gives you soft kisses on your back and neck. Fuck it...

"Again...." You whispered out, his eyes surprised you even said anything. He thought he was being too much, that he was going too far. He had no idea you were enjoying this as much as he did...

You felt too good right now for him to stop now, your stomach completely tensed up and your cunt fluttered around nothing. You needed him in the most disgusting way possible Daryl didn't see a single twinkle of doubt in your eyes, you knew what you wanted and you wanted him to give it to you. Daryl smiled at you, not a shit-eating grin or that stupid smirk... an actual smile.

Daryl raised the hand on your ass again, bringing it down roughly on your ass. You shot forward again, feeling your cunt tighten around nothing once more. Daryl waited once again for you to come back to him before he did it once more. The smacks got faster and harder, each one sending more amounts of pleasure through your body and bringing you closer to the edge. Your moans only fueled the fire in the diary, wanting nothing more than to completely destroy you.

After a couple more smacks, Daryl lined himself up behind you. This time he would be a bit nicer, slowly inching himself in and letting your tight cunt adjust to him. He watched your mouth open slightly, eyes squeezed shut, hands gripping onto anything they could find. Daryl rubbed your back with his free hand, slowly pushing himself into you until he was completely inside of you. Each inch you took made your eyes roll into your eyes and your toes curl.

Daryl started his thrusts slowly, watched you come undone on his cock already and he was just getting started. He watched as the coil in your stomach snapped and felt it when your walls fluttered around him, your liquid coating his cock. He fucked you through your first orgasm, picking up his pace when you couldn't feel your cunt flutter around his cock anymore. Daryl was Edgar to cum but also to make you cum over and over until you couldn't say anything else but his name.

"Fuck... such a tight fucking pussy..." He moaned out, grabbing your hips and shoving them down on his cock. "Could fuck this thing all day.... use you like my own fucktoy."

You could feel another wave of pleasure hit you, the coil in your stomach tightening once again. Daryl was rough with his thrust now, shoving himself into you before pulling all the way back and then slamming back in. It felt so good, making your entire body feel like it was on fire in the most pleasant way. Suddenly, not even 2 minutes after your first orgasm... You felt the coil snap once again, soaking Daryl's cock for a second time.

Daryl didn't slow down, just went harder as you screamed out as you came... hard. He gripped your hips roughly, leaving bruises on them most likely. You went completely limp, allowing him to use you exactly in the way he wanted to. You were exhausted, after two orgasms only minutes away from each other and working on your third one...You were completely worn out and wanting nothing more than another orgasm. Daryl watched you go limp, your ass having to be held up by him now.

"Come on baby...." He moaned, grabbing your arms and pulling you flush against him. "Gonna make me cum... gonna cum all over that fucking pretty ass of yours..."

His words only make your cunt tighten around his cock. You were standing on your knees in front of him, your knees digging into the tent floor as your head leaned back on his shoulder. You looked up at him with tired eyes, face bright red and your eyes leaking tears. You watched his face contort every time he thrusted, his lip being brought between his teeth and his eyes fluttering closed. He was beautiful, every muscle of his stomach placed on your back, his cock deep inside you, and his face looked to be sculpted by gods themselves.

Daryl's moans got louder, his cock twitched slightly and you could feel he was close just by the way he gripped onto your arms. You tried your best to fuck yourself back onto him as his thrusts became sloppy, wanting to fuck him through his own orgasm. Daryl was so close, his bruising grip on your arms as he pulled you closer and closer to him. You were right there next to him, your third orgasm already coursing through your stomach as you so desperately tried to help get you both off.

"daryl..." was the only thing you could get out, the other dirty words you had in mind getting lost in your throat as a particularly harsh thrust caused the coil in your stomach to burst open.

You shook violently as you came once again on his cock but you could only enjoy it for only seconds before Daryl let go of your arms, causing you to fall harshly onto the tent floor. You groaned, your orgasm still coursing through your body as you felt the ache of being dropped on the floor. You looked back to see why Daryl had done what he did, seeing that he was stroking his cock roughly. You watched as he came on your ass and back, his O face looking like something from your dreams.

You couldn't be mad now, not that you were able to see him in his high. When he finished covering you in his cum, he collapsed next to you. He breathed heavily as if he had just run a marathon and all you could do was watch him in awe. You would touch yourself to the thought of him, but nothing could've prepared you for how pretty he looked while doing it. He was on another planet at this moment, not even in this world as he recovered from his orgasm.

"fuck..." He said, his voice raspy and thick with exhaustion. "You're gonna be a problem..."

Daryl knew he shouldn't have done this, he should've just let you leave.... he should've just told you to leave in the first place. He knew once he had you vulnerable, ass up and ready for him to fuck you... he wouldn't be able to resist. He knew you'd become like a drug to him, he wanted to continue to hate you and live both of your lives separately, away from each other. There was just something about you, something about you that not only made his cock twitch but his heart. He always had a soft spot for you, he hated it.

You were still on your knees, back covered in his cum and the top half of you smushed against the ground. You just watched him come down from his high, not responding to him as he slowly came to his senses. Daryl looks back over at you, seeing you in a very uncomfortable position and sticky...

"Here..." He said, sitting up and finding a discarded rag that was always in his tent.

You slowly sat up on your knees, taking the rag he had handed to you. You smiled, nodding softly as to thank him simply because your voice box was damn near broken from screaming. You reached behind you, taking the rag and wiping him off of you. Daryl started getting some blankets together to make a bed for the both of you, hoping that wasn't crossing a line for you... as if he didn't just fuck the shit out of you. You struggled to get the entirety of your back, Daryl noticed this as he was setting down blankets.

Without saying a word, Daryl took the rag from you and gently wiped your back off. You hummed softly as he did so, the warmth of his hands making you feel giddy once again. You wanted to say something, anything just to get him talking again. His voice always makes you feel right at home, even if most of the time he was a dickhead to you.

"You know.." You said, voice coming out as a whisper. "I've never done something like this before..."

You looked back at him, his eyes focused on your back as he tried to make sure you were cleaned all the way off. Daryl knew, he knew you were the innocent type, that's why he was so intrigued with you. He smirked softly up at you, seeing how messy your hair was and how your tears were now stained on your face created a deep lust inside of him.

"I know..." He responded, going back to cleaning your back.

"You know?" You asked, knowing you looked innocent but how could he tell you haven't been railed like this before?

Daryl chuckled softly, throwing the rag somewhere in the room when he was done and then smacking your thigh softly to tell you to move yourself. You did what he wanted, sitting on your butt as you watched what he wanted you to do next. Daryl bit his lip, tossing you one of his shirts that was going to be big on you. You assumed he wanted it for you.

"You never do what you're told... Lay down." He started, watching you lay down like he told you to do. He smirked softly before continuing. "and you have only been with skinny 20-year-olds who probably went to some college for rich assholes.."

Daryl pulls his own clothes on before lying down next to you. He wrapped a blanket around the two of you, letting you lay on his chest as he did so. What Daryl was saying was very true, you had never been with a man his age or really any man that acted like him. You weren't the adventurous type, you were okay with vanilla sex and scheduled quickies. It was easy that way, easier to explain the age gap, and easier to digest the PDA. You didn't know if you could go back to that now, after 3 mind-blowing orgasms and the delicious size of Daryl... you could see yourself chasing this for the rest of your life.

"Maybe... I'd like to... uh..." You started, sighing softly. "I'd like to do this again though... I think I want to do it with you many times."

Your words felt jumbled, not making any sense. Daryl knew though, he knew what you were saying even if your words felt confusing. Daryl rubbed your arm softly with his thumb, thinking about what a life with you would be like. Waking up every day to a naked young woman in his bed, soft skin, and doe eyes for the rest of his existence with you... Even if he could only have you in the bedroom, he would move the sun and stars just for it. He nodded softly, looking back down at you as you lulled yourself to sleep on his chest.

"Yeah... think I'd like that too," he whispered. 

[reorientation]

It's only been two days but I figured I'd come share one of my favorite fantasies here.

I want a cruel girlfriend who's a staunch lesbian, doesn't care for Men at all or want them touching her. But the moment she meets me, she instantly can tell how much my pussy drips at the thought of a Man using me as He pleases, despite my proudly worn label as a lesbian.

It doesn't happen quickly, for a while she treats me normally. Only involving fantasies about other women, only using her fingers and her mouth to make me cum, never doing anything out of the ordinary for a "lesbian" couple. Until she slowly starts incorporating more Male centric ideas into my head, she asks innocently if I'd mind trying to take a dildo during sex. I agree because it's not like it's actually a Man right?

Then she asks my opinion on her wearing a strap on, by this point she's almost entirely stopped going down on me. Our sex almost entirely comprises of fingering and her dildos that are steadily growing in size. I say yes to her using a strap on, because I love her and want to make her happy. She makes comments about how we're probably the straightest lesbian couple out there.

Before I've realized it, she's now only using a squirting strap on when we have sex. I don't top her at all anymore, I'm a complete pillow princess now. She doesn't finger me or rub my clit anymore, our foreplay entirely exists of her pushing me to my knees to suck her strap. She tells me how I'm suck a natural at having a cock in my mouth.

It isn't until a few weeks later that she truly starts breaking my brain. "This is what you've always wanted, isn't it? To be fucked on all fours by a thick cock about to turn you into a mommy. Maybe we should have a guy fuck you instead since it's what you crave." It's impossible for me to hold back my orgasm when she says that.

One day she blindfolds me and tells me it's just trying something new, I feel her filling my cunt in a way she never has before, almost like she's throbbing. I can't stop whimpering and letting out high pitched moans, it feels like she's gotten so much stronger since the last time we slept together.

I lose count of how much I cum, and she asks my barely there brain if I'd like to see a surprise. When she takes the blindfold off all I can see is not one, but three Men on our bed while she sits next to me, the one in front clearly the person who's been fucking me the whole time.

I'm terrified, I don't understand what's happening but she tells me it's okay, that she understands. I've been calling myself a lesbian this whole time when in reality my sexuality is whatever she wants it to be, and right now she wants me to be a hole for Men. I so obviously loved having a real cock filling me, and I shouldn't deny myself.

By the time the first Man cums inside of me I'm gone, I'm completely lost to cock, there's nothing I want more in life than to be filled and used by Men.

My girlfriend and I have stopped having sex now, anytime she's horny she goes out to find a real lesbian to fuck her, or she texts at least three Men telling them her dyke is begging for His cock again so she can watch me be broken over and over again.

She fills my head with ideas that all Men are better than me, they're entitled to my body because I'm so stupid. Because I shouldn't have been showing off my huge tits in such a tight shirt. Because I denied them access to my holes for so many years when I hadn't rubbed my cunt to girls since before I had met her. And I believe her.

Her favorite days are when I come home a complete mess, having obviously been raped by one of her friends on my way back. She even makes me call them when I touch myself, thanking them and begging for them to be more cruel next time.

I still love her and she still loves me, she just loves ruining me more. She still calls me her lesbian girlfriend, but we both know it's only because it makes Men extra aggressive when breaking me.

I've never been happier than being my girlfriend's ruined dyke.

- 🩵

I don't even think I need to add anything - except to say that this little broken dyke is a very good girl.

[cherrywrecked]

guilty — k. chaewon x p. sooyoung

cw: cheating. sexual coercion. chaewon calling joy eonnie. dni if uncomfortable with such themes.

crossposted on ao3; promoted on twitter.

chaewon had always been a fan of red velvet, even more so ever since she got to debut with sakura who, despite their busy schedule, had been following the group in particular. it was definitely a surprise when she got a message from one of the group's member, joy.

oh my god, is this real? chaewon thought to herself as she read the message from her senior, telling her she had asked their manager to get chaewon's personal number and that she wanted to get to know the girl better as she found chaewon interesting. the younger girl didn't think much of it, as she was over the moon, happy that their senior idol has recognized her.

chaewon quickly replied, thanking the girl for taking the time to personally get to know her and the next thing she know, she was on her way to meet up with joy late at night.

"you're here." joy said smiling at chaewon as the younger bowed at her. "sunbae-nim, thank you for inviting me." chaewon timidly said as she took a sit in front of joy. the two of them enjoyed their time talking about almost anything over wine without even realizing the time.

"oh no, it's gotten a bit late. do you have any schedules tomorrow—today, i mean." joy worriedly asked and chaewon completely dismisses that by replying no and explaining that they were on a three day break after their promotions. "really? that sounds nice, i'm on a break too. do you want to sleep over?" thrilled, chaewon didn't think twice but to agree, not knowing what's in store for her.

it was pas two am when they've arrived at joy's apartment. "feel comfortable, chaewon-ah. i'll get you a pair of pajamas so you can wash up, mhm?" joy said to which chaewon nodded and started to look around the living room of the apartment. it was spacious, clean, and the whole vibe is what you would of expected of park sooyoung. "here, pretty. there's a bathroom at the end of the hallway, get cozy, i'll wait here." and chaewon did as she was told. although there was one, tiny problem— she's unprepared and didn't have panties to wear underneath the satin short pj's her new unnie has given her.

it was okay, chaewon thought. it's not like it should be a big deal. both of them were girls and hell, joy was in a relationship, isn't she? they're just friends. when chaewon got out of the bathroom with fresh clothes, joy was in a similar pair of pj's, except it was in red while chaewon's was in pink. "i had to match yours!" joy giggled as she pat the space next to her on the couch, opening a can of beer for chaewon to take.

"unnie, i really didn't think i'd be friends with you." chaewon says earning a giggle from the older. "yeah? but i've always wanted to be your friend! i thought your group reminded me of ours when we were younger. are any of your members dating?" the younger profusely shook her head denying as her cheeks blushed, to which joy teased her for. "mhm? fucking, then?" a deeper shade of red flushed chaewon's cheeks. "unnie! it's not like... it's not like that." still blushing, chaewon's voice was a bit squeakier now. joy rested her back, intrigued.

"yeah? how is it, then? i mean, nothing wrong with fucking around, right?" the older nonchalantly took a sip of her beer whilst the younger looked at her like a curious lamb, cheeks red from blushing. "i... i guess? i-i've never..." chaewon's voice was soft and quiet but it was loud enough to catch joy's attention. the older briefly raising a brow at the remark and chaewon didn't fail to catch that. shy, she could only down the remaining of her beer. "you're a virgin?" the younger could only nod timidly, head dipped down. this was joy's queue to do what she had wanted.

"but have you ever thought of doing it, with, i don't know, somebody? a peer?" joy asked with so much fascination, as if she was genuinely curious and it made chaewon sigh. i mean, she's my senior, right? i'm sure she's just... curious. "mhm..." she shook her head, biting on her lower lip. "i... tried doing it alone but it doesn't feel good." chaewon couldn't even finish her sentence without squeaking, embarrassment washing over her. she couldn't help but hide her face in her palms, earning a low chuckle from joy who took the liberty to scoot closer, holding the younger in her arm while the other caressed her legs.

"oh, sweetheart. it doesn't feel good at first. i used to not feel good too," joy cooed, "not until irene unnie helped me." shocked, chaewon finally looked at joy, eyes as wide as doe; she looks so innocent, joy thought.

"irene...sunbaenim did?" joy nodded, all smiley. but didn't joy unnie have a partner? "i know what you're thinking. irene unnie does it best." chaewon looked down to see joy's hand on her inner thigh, caressing the softness of her skin which made her shudder. looking up at the older, she mumbled as she called out for joy's name. "u-unnie?"

"you know, chaewon, it's not even hard to feel good. you just have to feel appreciated with someone." joy's voice was soft, dotting onto chaewon. "appreciated the same way as i do you." joy whispered against chaewon's ears, lips touching her lobe. "u-unnie, w-we can't," the younger, quivering away, says, but sooyoung only held her closer, her hand that was on chaewon's inner thigh, now dangerously close to her center, caressing her soft skin. "mhm? don't you want unnie to show you her love?" the cunning girl said, trailing kisses on chaewon's neck. chaewon didn't know what to do, she knew this was wrong. joy has a partner, but why does she feel funny? she feels as though she wanted joy—no, she does want her.

"i-i do! b-but your b-boyfriend...?" that made joy laugh out loud. boyfriend... funny because right now, all she ever wants was this young girl in front of her. "shh, you worry too much, baby. let unnie take care of you, mhm?" chaewon nodded and the next thing she know, the older had her sit in between her legs, head turned as joy kissed her softly yet chaewon felt the eagerness in the kiss.

chaewon hummed against joy's lips as joy ran her tongue along her lower lip to which chaewon parted. she wasn't a great kisser—hell, far from it, but joy loved the taste of her mouth mixed with the taste of beer and the clumsiness of chaewon's tongue. she's so clueless, so innocent yet you know hungry for what's yet to come her way. joy drags her lips down chaewon's jaw, trailing them down the younger's jaw, earning a soft sigh from chaewon. "mhm, you smell good." she whispered against chaewon's neck, before sucking on a patch of skin making the smaller girl gasp out both in pain and pleasure of the older marking her. “you like that?” joy chuckled lowly, her hands now caressing chaewon's boobs through the thin satin top.

her nipples were hard, harder every time joy rolls them in between her fingers, even more so when joy finally unbuttoned her pajamas, now toying her hard buds bare. "u-unnie..." chaewon whimpered, subconsciously pushing her hips upwards. to joy, it was the sweet girl begging to get touched where she deserves it. joy used her hands to spread chaewon's legs, caressing her softly, hands purposely ignoring where the little girl wants its best. "u-unnie, i want to feel good." chaewon whispered.

joy didn't bother replying but her hand found its way inside of chaewon's shorts and to her delight, the sweet girl was already wet and ready for her. "good girl, all ready for her unnie, am i right?" joy's teasing remark made the younger whine, burying her face onto the taller girl's neck. joy used her index finger to gently rub chaewon's clit, earning a moan from the girl. her sounds only amplified joy's desire to have the girl, making her move her fingers faster in small, circular motions, her thumb occasionally flicking chaewon's clit—the little girl squirming with every flick. chaewon's never felt this before, god, she felt so fucking good, she wants more.

without thinking, chaewon moved her hips, eager to feel more of her unnie's hand on her center. "unnie, more, please..." that was all joy wanted to hear from her. talking her out to continuing it in her room, chaewon laid in her bed, all naked and ready for her. intoxicated with all the drinks they've had all night, it was hard for chaewon to move, yet alone think properly as soon as she felt the soft mattress. however, joy's presence and how the taller girl slowly took off her own clothes, seducing her, was enough to wake her up. "uh, uh, stay down, my sweet angel. spread your legs for unnie, will you?" joy said with her sweetest smile, but that wasn't what chaewon was focused in. it was her beautiful, plump tits, moving along with every step she took as she got closer to her. "i-is this really okay, unnie? what if you boyfrie—" chaewon didn't even get to finish her sentence when joy had finally settled herself in between the younger's legs, the side of her leg resting on her inner thighs as she looked up to meet chaewon's eyes. "we don't talk about him here, alright? we're here because i like you, chaewon-ah. i want you to feel good." chaewon let out a sharp gasp as joy finally pressed her lips over chaewon's clit, giving it a kiss before she wrapped her lips around the nub, earning a loud moan from the younger.

joy took her time, using her tongue, rolling it around chaewon's clit, flicking it, and every time she does, chaewon's body flinches and her moans grow louder as she get wetter with every touch. "you're so wet, chaewon-ah. do you like this, mhm? you like it when i touch you like this?" chaewon could only moan in response as she felt joy's middle and index finger slipping inside her hole, a loud, high pitched moan coming out from chaewon's parted lips as she felt her finger inside of her.

"n-no, no... no! unnie, take it out, p-please, it stings! it hurts!" chaewon said in a panic, trying to pull away from joy. the older shushing her down— she expected she would be tight, but not as tight as this. chaewon's walls hugged fingers as tight as it could. "god, you're so fucking tight, chaewon-ah. you really were a virgin, were you?" joy whispered but loud enough for chaewon to hear. it was her hot breath against her clit that made her shiver and forget about the pain. letting the girl adjust, she peppered her core soft kisses, trying to ease the pain for her before she started to slowly curl her fingers inside of chaewon, the younger’s body arching as the tip of joy’s fingers easily found her spot, the virgin, overwhelmed with this, almost came, but it wasn’t enough for her to actually cum. “tsk, you’re not to cum yet, sweetheart. this isn’t even all yet.” was all joy had to say before she started thrusting her fingers in and out of chaewon’s cunt whilst her lips wrap around her clit, sucking on it.

“unnie—f-fuck! f-feels so g-good… fuck, joy unnie…” chaewon’s words came out slightly gibberish, joy could only chuckle but the vibrations from that only made chaewon squeal in delight as it felt so good against her clit. increasing the pace of her fingers, she even curls her fingers inside every after thrust she makes and it was driving chaewon insane. the young girl doesn’t know where to put her hands, but it finds its way to joy’s head, pulling her hair. fuck, this gir’s driving me insane, joy could only think as she liked the inflicted pain from the hair pulling.

the simple hair pulling was enough for joy to increase her pace. chaewon had started riding her thrusts, hips moving in sync with every thrust. strings of begs and profanities escaped chaewon’s pretty lips. her tongue sticking out and joy can swear it was as if she was begging for a cock to fuck her face and mouth. the older girl felt chaewon’s walls hug her fingers tighter even more than before. it was insane, she never realized how tight someone can be, but here chaewon was, proving her wrong. “u-unnie… g-good… m-more… no— my t-tummy…” words were coming out funny, but chaewon’s head was all over the place as she felt pressure building on her abdomen. her juices were dripping down to her ass, coating joy’s finger so so fucking well. “oh, baby, look at you, so fucking wet for unnie, aren’t you?” joy’s cunning remark along with the slaps on her clit that replaced her mouth made chaewon’s body curl and squirm, loud, airy moans coming out of her mouth. she shook her head, not knowing where to look nor what to do. she just feels… good.

joy pulled herself up, mouth now sucking on her hard nipples, rolling around the nub before she nibbled and flicked on each nub alternatively. her hunger heightened with every move the sweet girl does, every noise that escapes her mouth. she wanted chaewon and now, she wants her more than ever. “cum for unnie, my sweet chaewon. show me you appreciate me the way i do you.” joy’s voice was so beautiful, so daring, so sexy.

“i-i’m cumming… cumming! u-unnie—!” chaewon’s voice was loud as well as her gasp. it was sharp and her breathing stopped as her walls clenched so tightly around joy, her cum coating her fingers, her clit pulsating against joy’s thumb that had been rubbing circles clumsily around it. “beautiful… fuck, chaewon, you’re so, so good for me.” joy kissed her on the lips as she pulled her fingers out. chaewon looked at her, tears glossing her eyes, breathing heavily as she gain composure back from her first high… her very first ever. “unnie…” chaewon says and pauses.“it felt so good, but… i feel guilty. so, so guilty.”  before joy could even console her, chaewon pulled the older woman up with all her remaining strength, hands now groping joy’s tits, feeling her nipples get hard with her caressing them. she wasn’t going to cry. was she guilty knowing joy had a boyfriend? no. far from it. chaewon felt guilty that she loved it, she loves it. and that she wanted more. “can i return the favor? i feel bad not doing so.” chaewon said with the weakest yet cutest chuckle joy has ever heard. who was she now to say no?

note: i'll leave it at that... for now. and as for my tags, i'm going to keep the kyna writes tag for my write ups for easier access for the all of us, heh. thank you!

[writingwithciara]

Love Or Something Like It ~Quinn Hughes~

summary: quinn's girlfriend sucks but y/n's boyfriend is the best

word count: 3.2k

pairing: quinn hughes x roommate!reader, brief elias pettersson x reader

notes: another quinn x roommate fic. not set in the same universe as the last one. italics are the past. was supposed to post this on valentines day but did not have access to my laptop

masterlist

quinn and y/n were best friends. had been since they were younger. after she finished her schooling at the university of michigan, she followed quinn to vancouver, per his request.

he needed her nearby and somehow, knowing his best friend was there, made him play so much better.

although they hadn't seen each other in person for months, everything easily went back to normal. it was as if the distance was never a problem.

things were easy, until they weren't.

quinn had gotten himself a girlfriend the third month y/n had been living with him. rebecca was only nice to y/n when they were with other people but when they were alone, she would get angry and threaten y/n with anything she could think of.

it was very clear she was jealous. but why did she have to be? y/n wasn't as pretty as rebecca, a fact that she pointed out whenever they were alone, and she didn't want to be with quinn. she had her own boyfriend back in michigan. one she loved with her whole heart, despite all the red flags he gave off.

it hurt quinn to think that y/n wasn't being treated the way she deserved. he knew he had to do something to fix it. and since valentines day was coming up, he thought it'd be perfect to set y/n up on a blind date & rebecca agreed, offering up tons of suggestions. but quinn already had the perfect person in mind.

so, on valentine's day of 2023, y/n was sitting in a fancy restaurant with quinn and rebecca while they waited for the mystery man to show up.

"hey. sorry i'm late."

y/n looked up when she heard the voice. she had heard it many times before at canucks events. elias pettersson stood before her. his bright blue eyes staring back at her with a smile that didn't seem to want to leave his face.

"no worries." y/n smiled up at him as he took the seat across from her. she may have had a boyfriend but in the moment, her only though was how good elias looked tonight.

as they ate, y/n & elias got lost in their own little world. quinn tried not to notice it but the more she laughed, the more distracted quinn got. he didn't think he was jealous until later that night when rebecca brought it up.

"if you're so into her, why did you set her up with your teammate? better yet, why are you dating me?"

"becca, please can we not do this right now?"

"why not, quinn? it's the perfect time to address these feelings. i've been holding mine in since we met. every time you brought her up in conversations, it made me feel small. you're my boyfriend. you're supposed to love me, not her."

"my love for you is completely different than my love for her."

"so you admit that you love her?"

"of course i do. she's been my best friend since we were 8 years old. i've got nothing but love for her." quinn took a step closer to his girlfriend. "but i'm not in love with her. that's the difference here."

"are you trying to convince me or yourself?" rebecca grabbed her bag and walked to the door. "call me when you get it right, hughes."

and just like that, rebecca was gone.

quinn had tried multiple times to call her and tell her he only wanted to be with her, but only received her voicemail each time.

over the next few weeks, y/n spent more and more time with elias. she was almost never home anymore and quinn was alone 90% of the time. he would drive to practice alone and he would watch as y/n slowly transitioned herself from a hughes fan to a pettersson fan.

she started wearing elias' jersey instead of quinn's and it created an unfamiliar pain in his chest the more it became evident.

when y/n found out her boyfriend had cheated on her, she didn't run to quinn. she ran straight to elias instead, breaking quinn's heart.

he realized that the unfamiliar sting in his chest was jealousy. quinn didn't want to see y/n with anyone but himself but unfortunately for him, he was a little late to the realization.

one night while quinn was at home, y/n was over at elias' place. she came home with a big smile on her face that night & quinn knew why, but he asked anyway.

"what's got you so smiley tonight?"

"elias made me dinner and asked me to be his girlfriend."

and there was that stinging feeling right where it didn't need to be. only it was 10 times worse this time. he was hopelessly in love with her & had no idea how to deal with it.

it wasn't until the beginning of february 2024 that quinn had hope again.

he and y/n were washing the dishes together when she rubbed her eye with her forearm. some of the suds came off on her cheek and as quinn went to wipe them away, her breath hitched and her cheeks were turning red.

"here, let me get that for you." he wiped the suds away and smiled. "there, all gone."

"gee, thanks quinn." y/n flicked some water at him, causing the soap suds to go everywhere. the look in quinn's eyes was enough of a warning for her. she took off out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

"you've got nowhere to run now, y/n." quinn smirked evilly, moving closer to y/n until her back was pressed against the wall. y/n swallowed the lump in her throat before looking at his lips. this only caused quinn to lean down and whisper in her ear. "gotcha." he wiped the suds on her face and smiled. when he looked down at her, she was staring at his lips. "what's on your mind?" he teased.

"n-nothing." she quickly looked away and moved away from the wall. she headed back into the kitchen to finish the dishes. quinn took a moment by himself before joining her.

"so, valentines day is coming up in a few days. you and elias have anything huge planned?"

"he won't tell me." y/n washed the last plate and handed it to quinn. he dried it and put it in it's place before turning back to y/n.

"does he know you hate surprises?"

"i don't hate them, quinn." y/n shook her head.

"you don't like secrets and those are practically the same thing."

"i guess so." y/n turned to quinn. "but elias has been off lately. did anything happen at practice?"

"no. why?"

"i don't know why he's acting this way."

"what way?"

"dodgy? i think that's the word to describe it." y/n sighed. "he's not seeing someone else...is he?" the sadness in y/n's voice made quinn's heart break.

"no. of course not. elias is a good guy. you just gotta talk to him and see what's going on."

"i'll try." y/n walked to her bedroom but before she entered, she turned to quinn. "hey. are you still dating rebecca?"

"no. she, um, broke up with me. almost a year ago."

"good." she looked up at him and backtracked her comment. "i mean, not good as in it's good she broke up with you. i meant good as in it's good that she's gone. she was terrible."

"yeah she really was. and i'm sorry again for what she did and said to you."

"it's not your fault, quinn."

"it kind of is. if i hadn't been dating her to cover up the fact that i was jealous- nevermind." he caught himself before he revealed too much.

"jealous of what? you can't just leave the comment there. who were you jealous of?"

"nobody. just forget i said anything." quinn smiled at his roommate. "good night."

y/n stood in her doorway with a puzzled look on her face. why did every guy in her life have to keep a secret from her.

y/n shook her head and went into her own room. she called jack because he was the only she knew who wouldn't keep a secret from her.

"hey. what's up y/n?"

"jack, i need some information and i know you'll give it to me because you are the only one i know who never hides things from me."

"well, i can definitely give you information. but it also depends on what it is. i might not know what you're asking about."

"fair point. but it's about quinn and i know you know all about your brother."

"yeah i do. what's the information you need?"

"5 minutes ago, he said he was only dating rebecca because he was jealous but he wouldn't tell me why he was jealous or what he was jealous of."

"he's jealous of you and elias." jack responded with no hesitation, causing y/n to gasp a little louder than expected.

"but he was dating rebecca before i started dating elias. how could he be jealous?"

"maybe jealous wasn't the word he meant to use. he probably was trying to say he was only dating her because he was trying to get over how he felt about you." jack thought for a second. "or maybe he was jealous of you and that michigan douchebag you were dating when you moved to vancouver."

"that's a little more logical. but he doesn't love me, jack. and even if he did, it wouldn't matter. i'm dating elias and i love him. not quinn."

unbeknownst to y/n, quinn had come out of his room and had heard her say she didn't love him. the last few pieces of his heart shattered and he suddenly couldn't breath.

before he made any noise, he made his way back to his room, collapsing against the door. why did he have to love his best friend? his very not single best friend.

for the next 2 days, quinn would avoid y/n at all costs. he would wake up super early and leave the apartment before he saw her & he wouldn't even acknowledge her at practice or at games.

it was breaking her heart but it wasn't known why it was affecting her so badly.

on valentines day, elias had set up a romantic picnic for her in his backyard. she appreciated it but her mind was stuck on the way quinn was treating her lately. and elias wasn't blind or stupid. he could tell she was hurting.

"hey, love. are you alright?"

"i'm fine." y/n smiled and sipped her champagne. "why do you ask?"

"because i know you're not fine. i can see the far away look you have in your eye. you're deep in thought about something and i can tell it's hurting you. and i love you so please tell me what's going on with you. i just want to make you feel better."

"quinn has been my best friend forever but this past year alone, i've been feeling him pulling away and i don't know why." she sighed. "do you think he's tired of having me in his life?"

"what? no that's impossible. who could get tired of having you in their life? and quinn is the very last person who would want to do that to you. he cares about you, a lot."

"i know that's how it's supposed to feel but lately, things have been different. if he cared about me at all, he wouldn't be avoiding me whenever he had the opportunity to do it."

it was elias' turn to sigh. "it's because he's finally realizing he's in love with you. he has been for a while."

"no he hasn't. why does everyone keep saying that?"

"because it's true." elias took his girlfriends hand and smiled. "and i don't blame him. you make everyone fall in love with you like it's the easiest thing to do. and you don't even know the effect you have on us. you should've heard the way quinn talked about you the night he asked me to take you out on that date for valentines day. i already knew you and i had already said yes but he kept saying all these really nice things about you. things a best friend wouldn't say. i'm telling you, y/n. quinn is in love with you." elias sighed. "and i think you love him too."

"well, of course i do. he's my best friend." y/n smiled. "but that doesn't matter. i love you, elias. and that should be what matters here."

"i love you enough to know that being with quinn is what you need." by now, it was obvious they both had tears in their eyes.

"why do you have to be the sweetest human being on this planet?"

"well, i am swedish." he smiled and held her close. "you're always going to be the best girlfriend i've ever had. and not just because you're the only one i've had. you're always going to hold the crown."

"so does this mean we're breaking up?"

"yes. but i still love you. always will." he held her hand to his lips and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles. "now, let's get you home so you can tell quinn."

back at the apartment, quinn was trying to put something together to express every emotion he was feeling. after he had everything put together, there was a knock on the door.

he opened it and rebecca walked in. she looked around the apartment then back at quinn.

"well this isn't what i was expecting when i came here." she smiled. "but it's thoughtful, quinn. can't believe you went through all of this for me."

"actually, i-" he didn't have time to tell her it was for y/n before rebecca was pulling him in for a kiss.

"seriously?" y/n was standing in the doorway, watching the whole thing unfold. rebecca pulled away from quinn rather harshly at the sound of y/n's voice.

"y/n, this isn't-"

"i'm ruining a romantic moment. i'm sorry. i'll leave."

"you're right. you are and you should. bye." rebecca waved and y/n turned to walk back out.

"no, y/n wait!" quinn called out to her then turned to rebecca. "you need to go."

"what are you talking about?"

"this wasn't for you, rebecca. it would've been if you hadn't broken up with me a year ago. but it's not now."

"then who's it for?" rebecca searched quinn's face for a sign before her eyes landed on y/n, who was halfway out the door. "seriously? for her? thought you said you weren't in love with her."

"yeah well maybe i am now!"

y/n stopped in her tracks and turned back around.

"what?" y/n and rebecca responded.

"yeah. and maybe i always have been. it may have been a subconscious act and maybe that's why i always needed her to be close by. we can't help who we love and you can't be mad at y/n for the way that i feel. she did nothing wrong."

"she's done nothing but come between us since the moment we started dating, quinn."

"just leave, rebecca."

"no. i think i'll go. elias is waiting for me downstairs anyway." y/n turned around and walked out of he building. she got halfway down the street before it started raining.

a car sped past her and she knew it was rebecca just by the way the car aggressively sped through a puddle and nearly splashed her.

"oh tonight could not get any worse!" she shouted in frustration, kicking at a rock in her path.

"y/n, wait!" quinn shouted as he ran up to her.

"quinn, i'm not really in the mood to talk right now."

"then just listen to me. i'll do all the talking."

"fine. but can we go home? i'm freezing."

"of course." they both stayed silent as they headed back to their apartment. quinn wanted to say everything he was feeling but he wanted to wait until y/n was in a better mood. he knew she hated wet clothes so as soon as they walked through the door, he was rushing to his room to get her a tshirt and a pair of sweatpants. she accepted them without a word and went to the bathroom to change.

when she came out, the smell of hot chocolate filled her nostrils and it brought her a sense of joy. only quinn would be this thoughtful when she was mad at him.

she walked into the living room and sat down, silently taking the mug quinn offered her. she took a sip and smiled. that's when quinn knew he was doing good.

"okay. i'm ready to listen." y/n held the mug close and looked at him. his hair was still wet from the rain and she suddenly found herself wanting to run her fingers through the mess.

"okay. um, first off, rebecca and i are most definitely not together. just want to clarify that. and all of this," he glanced up at y/n & gestured around the apartment. "i set it all up for you. i know you're dating elias and you probably got something super romantic for valentines day but i wanted to do something for you too, even if it's only platonic between us. and im fine with that because you're my best friend and im sorry for rebecca and im sorry for ignoring you. it was a bad move on my part. but i heard you talking to jack the other night and you told him you didn't love me so i figured you'd want some space."

"elias and i broke up." y/n set her mug on the coffee table and stared down at her hands. "but it's okay. he's still a really good friend and that makes me happy."

"why'd you guys break up?"

"he could tell i was hurting and he kinda figured out how i feel about you."

"and how's that?"

"i didn't think i loved you until he pointed it out. but now it all makes sense. i was so eager to leave my life in michigan just to move out here to be closer to you & now i know why. i also know why it was weird seeing you with rebecca. it felt unnatural because deep down, i knew you and i were supposed to be together. we've been together our whole lives but never in a million years did i think there was a reason we were so attached to each other." y/n glanced over to find quinn staring at her already. "i do love you, quinn. and i know you love me too."

"i do. i definitely do." he smiled and moved closer. "i always will. and i'm willing to wait for you, however long it takes."

"you're perfect, quinn. i love you so much." she moved forward and threw her arms around him. he held her close and pulled her sideways onto his lap to make her more comfortable. "how about we go on a real date next saturday?"

"that sounds perfect." he looked at her and it took all of his willpower to not kiss her. she didn't care. her hands went to his cheeks and her lips attached to his.

it was a perfect moment for the both of them and neither of them cared about the world around them. as far as they were concerned, it was just the two of them for the rest of their lives.

taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691

[h2llish]

【╰ヾ❝ COULD'VE BEEN ✧„

VIL SCHOENHEIT ── when it could've been ☆ angst, heartbreak, requited feelings, gender neutral, lowercase intended, not proofread

inspired by my fic from me to you

he remembered the moment you came to him, with a smile so sad and ready to be rejected as you gave him a envelope with your handwriting at the top, for vil. with it, a rose wrapped safely in ribbon. by the look on your face and the shyness in your tone as you gave it to him, he could guess what was in the letter tucked inside the envelope must've been important, at least to you. you didn't bother to wait for him to open and read it, you didn't seem to want a response if he did, only apologizing and thanking him before turning away.

rook was with him, with a knowing look that looked a little sad in similar to your smile. he questioned it, but rook brushed him off in rook fashion, telling him it wasn't his place to speak on your behalf. what did he know that vil didn't? the actor wondered silently but trusted his friend despite his question and worry for you.

so vil tucked the letter away and waited till he was alone in his room. as the day ended and he finished his night routine, he sat comfortably on his bed and grabbed the letter.

dear vil,

i've written this letter six times now, and i know that if i continue to read over this, i'll never gather the courage to give it to you. so please excuse how messy it is, and the mistakes you may possibly find.

by the time you get this, i'll be ready to leave for my world. ortho found me a way home, and i wish to return there, even though i'll miss a lot of people here. i'll miss you the most. i'm sorry you had to find out through a letter, a lot of my friends remained unaware, but when you get this, they'll all know just like you.

perhaps you've caught on, but rook was one of the few who knew, he also knew you were going to receive this letter. but, if you are upset at all, please don't be upset with him. i asked him to keep things to himself, he wasn't even meant to know. he was just respecting my wishes.

to the reason of my letter, this is where it might get messy, i hope you understand.

vil, i think you're wonderful, amazing even. while i know how we started off may not have been the most eventful or greatest, you've been respectful. even after you overblot, and forgive me for bringing it up, you've been nothing but kind to me and i thank you. when you offered your own money to ramshackle and then helped rebuild it when it was damaged, i was incredibly grateful.

you work hard, and you care about your dorm. not everyone may see it, but i do vil. you've done your research, have gotten to know everything about your dormmates, and made diets and routines just for them. it shows you really care.

we've gotten close. i care about you, and i think you care about me. we're friends.

but i'll be honest with you, my feelings for you have become more. i'm falling in love with you. i understand if you don't feel the same, i'd feel better if you don't, knowing my feelings were unrequited so i can leave with the guilt of only leaving my friends.

i'll probably be gone by now, and if not, i ask that you don't approach me. i wouldn't be able to keep myself together if you do. i want to go home, nothing will stop me from doing that. i'm sorry we can't have a proper goodbye, but for my own reasons, selfish i understand, i can't face you so this will have to do.

goodbye vil. and thank you for being my friend.

perhaps things could've been different.

sincerely, your friend, [name].

romantic feelings were new for the actor, you were the first person he'd felt anything for. he loved you; he realized as he sat there, hair pulled back neatly and mask on his face. he pinched the end of the letter in his feelings, relaxing when he worried he would tear it.

he respected your wishes in the letter, remaining in his room as he read over the words once more. although it was heavy on his shoulders, he knew even if he had left to confess his requited feelings, your decision would have never changed.

perhaps things could've been different, but you'd always choose your home, and he could not blame you.

patting myself on the back for managing to write something even if it's short. my headaches chilled out again and i took advantage.

do not repost, translate, copy or run my writing through an ai

[bambinambi]

Most Women are NOT Girl's Girls and Men are NOT Your Friends

A reflection on having Lilith in the 11th house (and to a lesser extent, Pluto in the 10th house)

"Lilith in the 11th house are usually ostracised from their society and their communities, usually struggle with developing friendships, especially with women, attract toxic friendships, attract jealousy and envy from other women, are overly sexualised, are usually befriended by men with ulterior motives, are often isolated or ostracised in their own friendship groups and incessantly shamed, and accused of trying to seduce or steal away other women's men."

(Disclaimer: All of these observations can, of course, be experienced by any other placements, one might argue that this is simply the female experience of friendships and relationships, but I personally attribute a lot of my experiences to this placement (as well as others) and thought it interesting to write out how I believe this placement has shaped my relationships with others, and definition and feelings towards "community")

The quotes given above are just a few of the observations I've seen written about Lilith in the 11th house. These placements has caused a variety of questions to arise, in my head, over the years;

"How can women maintain relationships with the same individuals they perceive as their rivals?"

"Can women ever be friends with other women when men and social standing are at risk?"

"Can men ever truly see women as "just friends"?"

"And how do societal issues affect how and who we forge our friendships with?"

When I was in primary school, a couple of fellow netball moms all rallied together to protest against how "inappropriately short" and "tight" my netball shorts were. My coach even went as far as taking me to the school shop to exchange my school assigned shorts for a larger pair, better equipped to hide my African body. I was 9. How could a 9 year old be "inappropriately dressed" in school uniform? There is no other way of putting it; my 9 year old body was being sexualised because it didn't reassemble those of the skinny, little white girls. It was curvier, and therefore "womanly" in their eyes, in spite of my age.

They voiced their disapproval, like I was intentionally trying to show off my body and seduce the non-existent men on the grounds. I was 9. I was made to feel ashamed. I think this event, and many others that followed after it, were the catalysed for not only the shame I felt towards my body but also my discomfort with being seen as sexually appealing. If my body was so incredibly evocative, then how could I prevent people from sexualising me in the future? And if I couldn't, what dangers could possibly arise as a result of it?

I was already being catcalled before I had even gotten my pen license, a means for insecure men to feel powerful, to instill fear into the most vulnerable like the powerless men that they were, but I interpreted it as yet another piece of evidence that the world would not see me for the child that I was, worthy of having their innocence protected like the white girls' were.

My primary school principal went out of her way to ensure I never had the chance to hang out with my guy friends. She barred them from entering the school grounds, despite having younger siblings at school, and in turn barred me from hanging out with my friends directly outside of the school grounds. She would deliberately drive from the faculty parking lot to the front of the school and sit and watch for whether we would meet up at my school. First, she barred us from hanging out directly outside the school grounds on the pavement, then from hanging out at a local café, then from hanging out at local parks, and then from walking home together (which we did so we could hang out at our respective homes). All this in spite of me stating, on numerous occasions, that my parents were aware of and approved of my plans.

I remember when my school held their annual Christmas carols. My best friend (a boy) asked if we could walk home together. We both asked our parents (who had been attending the carols) for permission to do so. After being granted said permission, we walked down towards the exit of the school, where my principal was standing to greet parents. She stopped us, stated that she didn't believe my parents had given me permission, told me to stand by her side, and told my friend to go home.

Whether she was a puritan or a separatist, her intention definitely did not seem like she was trying to protect. She sought to publicly embarrass me on numerous occasions by barring the entire school for doing things everyone knew I was solely "guilty" of. If anything, she was these white boys from me, from the "fast" black girl that I was. I never even had any real interest in boys and dating, but what does that matter in the face of stereotypes?

When I was in high school, I was one of the only black girls in a predominately white school, community, and city. White boys didn't notice us. White girls never saw us as competition, and black boys would bully and berate us for just about anything you could think of. I remember my black friend getting anxious about being intimate with a boy for the first time because she thought he would be disgusted by the fact that her nipples were brown. When I asked her why she would feel insecure about that, she explained that black boys had been saying that brown nipples were ugly and that pink nipples were prettier. The same individuals with brown nipples, nappy hair, and all the other features they criticised us for black girls for having.But honestly, I couldn't take the criticism of individuals who looked like me to heart. They evidently had inferiority complexes that, instead of dealing with, were projected onto black girls because they knew there would be no real consequences. No one stood up for black girls, including other black girls. Anyway, I digress.

Black girls would gossip about the (eventful) lives of the white girls (from a place of envy, but how would they know considering their judgement was being shared and agreed upon in an echo chamber?), focusing especially on their perceived flaws, mistakes and the unforunate happenings in their lives with excitement, like we were excited their perfect pristine lives also came with issues like ours.

Black girls would gossip equally about other black girls and boys, criticising them for everything from their economic backgrounds to their hair, to their clothes, to who they chose to/didn't choose to hang around with ("How long has she had those braids in? They look bad." "Yoh, for someone with money, you would think they would buy nice clothes." "You can tell he likes white girls." *Points at his relaxed hair and laugh*). This judgemental outlook also extended to fellow black girls, either behind their backs or directly to their faces. I was often a subject of their gossip. I was made even more of an outsider for not having a similar ethnic background or economic background, for not being able to speak the same language as them and being able to assimilate better than them. "Coconut" is the term often used, white on the inside and black on the outsider.

These black girls used their incessant gossip sessions as an outlet for all their frustrations, a time in their days when their insecurities could be laid to rest in their minds. Black boys and black girls were equally unsatisfied in their places in the world. Black boys for not being "white enough" and black women feeling frustrated that they were being made to conform in a world that was never made for them, and made no concessions on how one could gain access. You had to be agreeable and not disrupt the status quo, or dare to criticise it. You were either like them, or you were an outsider. You chose, but you'd paid either way.

Entering the 10th grade, I decided to improve my physical and mental health. Until then, I had spent my time feeling like a victim of my black personhood. I eventually realised that I didn't have to worry myself with societies over criticism, lack of empathy and complete disregard for black women, that I didn't need to carry the shame imposed upon me, that I didn't need to carry/pay any of it really any mind. And so, I exercised regularly, ate well, developed a skincare and hair routine, read affirmations every day, and grew to be a far happier and contended person. I no longer needed nor concerned myself with external validation, and in doing so, I decentered men completely and became my own source of happiness. I became like a child again, uninterested in gossip, because it no longer fed my ego, knowing others were suffering. I became preoccupied with my 100s of hobbies because I realised that I would be the only individual capable of bringing true peace with myself and to my mind.

Going into university to begin with was great. I made a group of acquaintances that for the first time looked like me, had the same interests as me, came from similar cultural backgrounds to me and had similar childhoods to me, due to having similar upbringings and coming from similar economic backgrounds. I didn't feel like an outsider in my friendship or community anymore, like Lilith in 11th house natives usually do.

Things took a turn when my two girls in the friend group started dating some men in my friend group. It wasn't their relationships that caused issues in the friendship group, but how the other women in the friend group reacted. Their colours began to show. Let's call the girlfriends 'A' and 'B', and the two boyfriends 'C' and 'D', and the other girls in the friend group 'the trio'. 'C' and 'D' were not particularly close with 'the trio' prior to getting to relationships with 'A' and 'B'. But the trio subsequently started trying to get closer and closer to 'C' and 'D' (I know this sounds like high school drama, but bare with me).

'The trio' insisted on spending as much time as possible with 'C' and 'D', linking arms with them as they followed them around on campus. They even used to greet the boys by excitedly screaming, abandoning whatever they were preoccupied with before, running at full speed, and the flinging themselves into 'C' and 'D's arms, the way a girlfriend would do.I recall the trio regaling us with the previous night's activities, hanging out in 'C' and 'D's residence rooms. I thought all of this was completely inappropriate, that it was strange to act this way towards someone else's partner, someone you know is taken. What made it worse is that the trio were closer to 'A' and 'B' prior, having lived in the same residence. The trio's loyalty should have been with the 'A' and 'B', but they chose male attention over friendship.

One could argue that a complete abandonment of concerns surrounding societal pressures and expectations and a complete decentering of men would remedy this situation, this insatiable need for positive attention (especially from men). But that would be completely untrue (and naive) and would completely negate the obsession society has as a whole by bullying women into submission and the repercussions that come with it.

These women ('the trio') unknowingly played into the oldest narrative underpinning many societies; women "need" men to be worthy and valid in society. More male validation means you are more valuable. I just know someone is going to say I'm being misogynistic or anti-feminist, but it takes one look at society to see that this is exactly the narrative that lives in the subconsciouses of many women's minds, even the many of us who think we're more progressive, or "above" that kind of thinking.

'A' and 'B' had always been uncomfortable with the trios' behaviour, grew weary of them, and became distant. In the end, the final undoing came from 'A' and 'B' connecting the dots as the to how 'the trio' had been sowing doubt in the respective relationships on both sides. Dissuaded both parties ('A' and 'B', and 'C' and 'D') from continuing on with their individual relationships based on "intel" they had gathered by playing both sides. 'A' and 'B', rightfully so, cut severed ties with 'the trio' and the rest of the group as a result of this situation, and I developed a disgust for everyone involved, excluding 'A' and 'B'.

It was the first time, I had seen women clamour for male attention at the expense of their female relationships, to intentionally ousted and wound the women in their lives to knock them down a peg, to feel superior. I didn't understand why they had even thought to do such a thing, as they all individually had partners of their own. The main instigator had been in a relationship with her boyfriend to 5-6 years. Why would she be threatened by her male friends having girlfriends?

But I guess that's the point. Some women can't handle having male attention, not solely being on themselves. They need to be the prettiest girl in the room, and if not that, the funniest, or the most relatable, or the most understanding, or the most caring something that will make the men in their lives appreciate them. Daddy issues are rampede in our society, combine that with society's insistence on obsessively comparing women, merciless fault-finding, and incessant instilling of fear as to what life would be like without a man by one's side (including what sins to never commit and the horror level consequences of not achieving such), and you have a swarm of anxious pick me's.

'A' and 'B' were jealous of me. There's no other way to put it. I was entertaining, outgoing, funny, smart, and confident. I was beloved. It started with critical comments and snowballed into outright bullying, in which they both took part in and enjoyed their unsympathetic barrage on my personhood if the twinkle in their eyes was anything to go by. They revelled in their perceived victimhood while not recognising that they too were often perpetrators of the same things they accused others of. I was cognisant of their hypocrisy. They were not. A person with BPD with her favourite covertly narcissistic person, a recipe for disaster for anyone caught in their crossfire.

Because I had gone to a girls' only school, and had grown up with a strict mother (I have moon in the fourth house). My comprehension of how women and men interacted when in social settings was very limited. I interacted with men the way I did women and unintentionally 'led on' a lot of men who I was only seeking to befriend at most. Also, I realised how territorial women could be over the men in their lives, even when they were merely friends.

In high school, this one girl who had been at my school, had moved to a co-ed school, and went from being a kind girl, who always sought to uplift the women around her, to being a girl with only male friends, struggling with forming female friendships and maintaining her already established ones, who became boy-obsessed and consequently, obsessed with increasing her own desireability from men, body-shaming and being highly critical of women, and in turn, developing an eating disorder of her own. She had gone to girls' only schools her entire life and had only made this change once socialised around men. I'll refer to her as 'E' from here on out.I remember 'E' inviting me to her 18th birthday party. I did not know anyone else attending the party, with the exception of other girls from my school who had already socialised extensively with the other party goers at previous gatherings. So I wouldn't be alone, I asked the 'E' if I could invite one of my friends who she had been best friends with in primary school. She went on to say that she didn't think the girl was "pretty enough" for any of her male friends, and that she would check with them to see if any of them would be interested in hooking up with her. It was at that moment I realised that 'E' had only invited girls to her party so that she could essentially have us hook up with her male friends. She invited only girls her male friends were sexually interested in while also being incredibly territorial over all of them. I learnt this when a male friend of hers had a clear interest in me at a New Year's Eve party we both attended.

I was always the type of drunk to be all over the place, bouncing around excited and gleefully trying to find any source of drunken entertainment. I was not fussed with who I was with. I just wanted to have fun. He tailed me around the party the entire night. I decided to play drinking games, and he would come along. I wanted to jump in the pool when the clock struck midnight. He expressed that he would do so along with me. When I expressed being cold, he leant me his jacket.

At some point in the night, when we had separated, 'E' came up to me stating that he wanted his jacket back, I obliged and handed it over to her. Once returning to my side, he expressed confusion why I was no longer wearing his jacket and where I may have placed it, as we were at a house with random people. The story that everyone heard about that night, from her, was that I was "all over him", and it was "so embarrassing to watch". It was believable.

Since when would an objectively attractive white boys be interested in a black girl? When blue-eyed blondes existed in abundance? Why would he pick the black girl? It was easy for 'E' to use this unspoken but well-known societal "code of conduct" (or "rule of thumb") to shame me. It goes white girl with blues eyes and blonde hair, white girl with blonde hair and green eyes, white girl with... you get the gist. Black girls rank at the absolute bottom of the list if they even make it on the list at all (which they rarely do).

These experiences made me realise that she didn't care about a single one of her female friends. That their were competition instead of companionship. That she didn't care were or not we attended her party, celebrated her birthday with her. A milestone. I declined 'E's birthday invitation shortly after.At university, I started working with an events company. The company was started by a tight-knit group of friends. I quickly became friendly with everyone. Or so I thought. After the first or second meeting, two of the girls had grown cold towards me, we'll call the 'F' and 'G'. Or rather 'G' had begun giving me the cold shoulder, and 'F', always following along with whatever 'F' did, copied 'G's actions, mostly in her presence. But 'F's decision to follow along with 'G's mission of making me feel unwelcome soured my opinion of 'F' altogether.

I remember 'G' was the only person in the organisation to have a car. She was the only one capable of lifting us the event sight to set up for the event that evening. She sent a message on our company group chat, stating that she would be picking up people from campus at a certain location and time, and requested we indicate who would be able to come. A number of us indicated that we could, including myself. In spite of arriving ahead of time to the location, she had decidedly left early, without me and another girl, in spite of being the first one's to respond to the message, and there only being 4 people, she needed to remember to lift at that time.

Once arriving back to the sight for the event itself, I was initially going to partake in ticket sales, but another me and the same girl who had been left behind before (who was also meant to sell tickets that night), were told to go back to the main sight because there were enough members already servicing the ticket stand. 'G' was instructed to take us back to the sight, which she begrudgingly did in almost complete silence.Now you might be thinking to yourself, "Girl, what if you did something to offend these people, and their actions are justified?" Only issue with that theory, is once I realised many women would react to me in a certain way, I tried my hardest to really show them that I did not think of myself as "all that", that they need not feel like I'm some sort of "threat".

I also don't have a single male friend. One guy 'friend', we'll call him H, invited me over "to watch a movie". 'H' kept pushing the time of our meeting back to the point that our hang out had to be scheduled at 8 pm, at his apartment. He ended up asking me if we could kiss platonically. I rejected his advances, and we proceeded to watch the movie. I eventually asked to leave, to which he stated it would be too dangerous to walk back to campus, although he did so often. I had no real choice but to sleepover as our small university town had no Uber and taxi services I rarely used and had no numbers for. He proceeded to ask to cuddle me while we slept. This was someone who I had thought of as my (only) male friend for years.

My first relationship began with my then boyfriend and classmate propositioning me. Throughout the relationship, he would continually call me a "baddie" and say things like, "I can't believe I got the class baddie." It was like I was a price instead of a partner. We expressed far more sexual intimacy than emotional, despite my efforts, and he displayed a completely unserious regard towards our relationship, including flirting with other classmates in my presence. I was not respected, nor were my feelings ever considered, because at the end of a day, I was a means of sexual relief to him, not a person.

- 22 May 2024

[billythesimp]

Never Judge a Film By Its Cover

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎...

Thank you for the request Client_Clover! I hope this is too you liking, I've never done work like this when it comes to basing interactions off of aesthetic/genres.

Wise w/ gothic-alternative-sweetheart! reader

𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑤𝑎𝑖𝑡...⋙

Tagging: ☘️ anon

tw: none

⋈ Wise is used to all kinds of people in both kinds of works, whether it’s helping a client in the hollows or approaching a customer to recommend a new tape they figured would be to their liking. No matter the person, he is able to adapt to their personality and knows that better than to judge a person by their looks. He has an eye for these kinds of things, picking up on the littlest details of his customers which makes him a great salesman when it comes to film options. 

⋈ When he started taking an interest on one of the regular at the shop, he was thrown for a loop when he first laid his eyes on them. In a way, they reminded him of Ellen a bit, a very low energy personality who looked around the place with hooded eyes and a ‘Don’t approach me’ attitude. Their clothing choice was also interesting to say the least, wearing different monochromatic articles that could run from looking like a mess of nets and off-shoulder tops to high waisted skirts paired with long trench coat vibes.

⋈ Of course, the many times they come by they only view the tapes and even are with a group of friends from the looks, everyone being the complete opposite of what they seem like, cheerful and bubbly they stand out with a serious case of RBF. [Resting-Bitch-Face] But that makes him even more intrigued, who is this person and what are they like. How do they attract such bright people despite their gloomy-gothic approach? He figures this out one day when they come into his shop looking for something, walking out of the staff only room to find them at the counter.

▿

“Oh, sorry for the wait. Could I help you with something?” 

They only scratch at their cheek, eyes wandering away from Wise’s gaze before presenting a film in hand. “Uh, yeah. Could I rent out this tape?” He only looked down at the tape in question, the genre surprising him to say the least. “Oh sure. Just Oh~ Sweetie today?” The nervously nod, a faint blush painting their cheeks like dapped out watercolors. He rang it up, smiling to himself before handing over the tape. 

“Alright, you’re all set. The return policy is usually a week from today, but feel free to drop by anytime before then. There’s a fee for late returns, but feel free to call the store if you have any questions. Thank you for your business.” Their eyes gleamed in excitement as they held the case in hand, Wise could almost see the sparkles emitting off of them before they waved him bye with a sheepish smile blessing his vision. Once out the store, he could only stare before smiling to himself again.

⋈ Since then, he is always greeting them while also discussing new films that would be to their liking. Mainly ranging from rom-coms to fantasy-adventure, he has gotten to knowing them to the point where they’ve become close friends. Wise enjoys their conversations as they always mention their favorite part of the tapes; he recommends them with childlike innocence, glowing brightly with a cheerful disposition. They invite him out sometimes when he’s clocked out for break, treating him to noodles or listening to some new records across the street. Another place they are a regular at, learning more about their interesting taste in music that fits their aesthetic.

▿

He’s asked about your lifestyle once, giving him a nervous response while twiddling with your fingers. “Ah, well, I get that question a lot. I always had a fascination with gothic fashion and the aesthetic as a whole, so I wanted to express my love for the art form by wearing what I found comfortable. People are surprised when I mention that, but many people I’ve met say that it’s really cool, so I continue to express myself freely- sorry, I’m probably rambling now.” Your yapping slowing into a nonsensible muttering which Wise assures them that he doesn’t mind it one bit.

“Well, I think you're pretty- neat! It’s pretty neat, so I can’t argue with you on that.” He nodded along, seeing how they only skipped beside him with renewed confidence. “Thank you, Wise!”

⋈ Whenever he’s out and about, should he spot them in their usual circle or looming over a display alone, despite the aura they have hovering over them he still makes it a habit to call out to them. The moment before and after they spot him makes his heart flutter, how they look over with a subtle glare before perking up and grinning cheekily and waving him over. Really, it’s a sight to behold.

⋈ Maybe one day they’ll be more than friends, but neither of them would admit it. No number of soft touches and gentle smiles will push them to confess their little attraction to one another. So for now they’ll cuddle up on his bed while watching another film. As friends, yeah really close friends.

[punsmaster69]

12/APR/20XX

i think that was my goal.

remember? the one i was mentionin' about twenty nine pages ago? i'd said something like...

"and when i achieve it?"

"...guess i'll finally close this book for good."

so, i'll count that to be my goal.

therapist agrees, so you can't get on me about that.

sharing inner thoughts was never something i'm great at. so much so that you might've forgotten that's what this was for.

can you believe that? s'posed to be a thought journal. daily mental-state evaluation.

ended up talking about my friends instead.

wasn't for me, i suppose.

...after some amount of pages, huh? geez.

[This calls attention to the fact that the book is much thicker than it was when it started. Seems instead of switching to another one, his journal just... gained pages.]

point is.

seems to me like a good place to stop things at.

i'll give you a final update, and we'll call it. alright?

——

breaking the news went as smoothly as if we'd entered the room and broke a vase on the floor instead. (undyne about did just that.)

the second calamity was when mettaton and my bro show up kinda late

holding hands.

turns out my bro is much more decisive than i am.

apparently it was mettaton first, then paps who decided after a few serious dates.

congrats to 'em.

been deflecting questions best i can all day from the announcements, so i was thankful my bro showing up like that took enough of the heat off me n' tori.

i...

can't stop smiling.

well- alright, that's a given.

but i mean this doofy grin i haven't kept up this long in ages.

i'm not even trying for this one.

all this talk about relationships, i think undyne's gotten excited. talking about marriage and all that. alphys has gone beet red.

grillby and the bar gave me a hell of a lot of pats on the back. i'd be bruised if i weren't bones.

if it wasn't that which would've bruised me, it definitely would have been the punch flowey gave me. the comment that earned me it?

"so..."

"this makes me your dad, right?"

he didn't take it well.

despite the petal-haver's apparent hatred... i think he's secretly glad that toriel's happy.

my bro sure took the news well.

granted, since he already thought me and her were dating, he just was happy for the public announcement.

"WAIT."

"DOES THIS MAKE ME AN UNCLE?!?"

"Are we gonna get another sibling??"

"WAIT, are we gonna get a SKELE-sibling?!?"

"whoa, slow down-"

"Frisk, NO??"

"Do not encourage this BONEHEAD to-"

"I think that is quite enough."

tori puts her foot down on that conversation.

living situations shouldn't change much for now, but maybe we'll figure out something else in the future. (staying with my bro. don't panic.)

concerns about my health have slowed down, as i've gotten more used to daily magic usage. noticed way less bad days recently, right? papyrus still insists on teaching me to use attacks better, so i've got that to look forward to. there might still be ups n' downs health-wise, but i'm confident in getting through 'em now.

paps is noticeably still somewhat anxious about it, fidgeting whenever everything is brought up. which is fair, but. still.

i'll get him a therapist like i've been seeing. an in-person one'll work better for him, i think.

not sure what else'll change, really. everything feels mostly the same.

other than (gasp) public handholding. (scandalous.) every time we're beside one another, tori's finding some form of physical contact.

that's different.

...in a good way.

right now, it looks like the aftermath of a wild party. friends knocked out in random spots; dangling half-off the couch or sprawled across the floor. i think frisk and i are the only ones still awake, since they wanted to put blankets on everyone.

"(Psst. Is one blanket enough?)"

they raise a large blanket in gesture with a questioning look.

i speak extra softly so i don't disturb toriel laying at my side, with her head on my shoulder and an arm across my torso; hand met with mine.

"(yep.)"

"(Kk.)"

frisk lays a blanket over me and tori. they stare contemplatively before speaking.

"....."

"Goodnight, Dad."

"...'night, kid."

welp.

guess that's it, huh?

....

i'm happy.

caring is nice.

———★

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐍𝐃

[spaceorphan18]

More thoughts on XM97 - because of course I have more thoughts...

Doing some more reflection, because this is what I do during hyperfixation, apparently.

It helps to write things down and get them out of my head, I suppose. Honestly, it'll be nice to get past the last episode, because then I can compartmentalize and just push the thing away until season 2 (if the finale gives me any reason to want to come back).

DeMayo went on another tweeting spree (I just keep an eye on these things because I get curious) and during this particular bout, I feel like I've got somethings clarified. And I think my own personal frustrations come down to - the ideas of writing and creating vs fan expectations.

Overall, I do think that XM97 is a solidly good (or at least entertaining) show. The animation is good. The voice cast is good. And the ideas they are using, in theory, are more adult and mature and nuanced than the original kids' show ever was (which, I'll give TAS some credit - dug deeper a lot of times when most kids' cartoons of the time didn't).

One of the biggest issues for me has been execution. First of all, the show is way too short for the amount they're trying to pack in here. It almost feels like they wanted to do everything on their wishlist because if they didn't, they wouldn't get the chance to do it. And it feels, muddied... They really needed a full season to unpack a lot of this.

The thing about Rogue and Gambit's story.... I get the 'kill your darlings' strategy of writing. In fact, I agree that good stories are messy and have conflict and you should always put your heroes through the worst. I feel like there was a better way to do the story (I believe) they're telling.

I don't think Magneto needed to be a part of it at all, and the triangle just feels... forced in a lot of ways. I understand that they went there to give Remy some heartbreak along the way, but I truly believe the two of them, with their own issues, and the two of them being in an undefined relationship with complicated issues over touch -- still could have resulted in compelling TV, and still would kept the devastation of Gambit's death.

Episode 5 is still my favorite, and despite my distaste for the whole Magneto side of it, I think the writing there was top notch, and still the best this show has been. I get, though, that they wanted to have Rogue and Gambit "break up" for the impact to hit harder, for Rogue to feel much more guilt once he died, for that last line to be even more heartbreaking.

So, the easiest route was to add the Magneto of it all. Episode 5 is brilliant in a vacuum. But in greater context there are other ways you can get there. And, no, Magneto wasn't ultimately needed. Rogue still could have had regrets, there still could have been heartbreak, there are always things you just don't say before a tragedy.

The thing about it, had they set this up correctly, and in a way that was more satisfying and didn't involve third parties? You may have gotten way more of the Rogue and Gambit fans on board. (And I'll get to the fan side of this in a second.)

See, TAS flirted with Rogue and Gambit's romance but never pushed it too far. Not only was it a kids' show, but Rogue probably would have never had her powers under control and it just was never going to go that far. Meanwhile, the comics have moved way beyond where TAS was. Rogue and Gambit's relationship has evolved a lot in thirty years - way past the tragedy, past the will-they/won't-they, past the break ups and reunions, and in the comics, Rogue and Gambit are a relatively healthy (for a comic book couple) couple of best friends and old marrieds. They're story is so far beyond what they once were that going back to TAS feels... odd.

So, the show starting in this place where TAS left off feels awkward in a lot of ways. There's a lot of expectations layered onto this show, but the show -- being limited by external factors, can't really handle all of it.

I don't think the first few episodes of the show did enough to show the sheer strength of Rogue and Gambit's connection and relationship. And part of that was time and part of that is because it's a sequel to a show set thirty years ago and part of it is time compression and part of it is the writing wanting to leave some vague open-endedness to the relationship so that Episode 5 could work.

And thus Episode 5 feels a bit jarring. It's way more a mature script. There's much more going on in those relationships that we haven't seen set up. Not really. And it's almost relying too much on - things that were mildly set up in the original and the heavy history of the comics.

Which leads me to what has happened afterwards. I think that in a world sans the Magneto of it all, you still get a Rogue who is absolutely heartbroken over the loss of her love. She would still go dark. She would still seek vengeance. She would still wrap herself up in that trench coat and wreck havoc on everyone until she ultimately succumbed to her own grief and eventually dealt with it in one way or the other.

(The part that I just don't agree with -- besides giving up the trench coat, which I know is symbolic in gesture -- is her running off to play Colossus in Fatal Attractions. Which, again, is why they did add the Magneto of it all, but I'm digressing.)

Anyway, this leads me to the fan expectations, and why it does feel so raw for a lot of us. Rogue and Gambit have never really had their time to shine. The films are full of mischaracterizations and limited (very limited) appearances. The other TV shows never let the relationship shine. And even in the comics it felt like forever for the X-Office to take them seriously.

This TV show felt like an opportunity to start fresh. To be excited about something. To get behind the characters we love and celebrate them. We can still break their hearts. We can still even kill them off. But give us a reason to care!

But instead of building that relationship with us fans, it went a different route. And now we feel heartbroken and angry, instead of just heartbroken. Gambit fans - who get shit on so often - get one bright of moment of glory before a death that feels somewhat hollow when you start to realize it was in purpose of someone else's story. Rogue fans - have the internet hating her with a passion. It feels like once again - being set up only to fail.

It feels hurtful, even when, I truly believe, that was not the writers' intentions. Make your characters go through hell - yes, but you have to have your audience on your side to make it impactful.

I don't really know where the show goes from here. There's either going to be closure or a cliffhanger. What I'd really like, though, is some sort of hope.

Because I get real life sucks. And I get that we often reflect in our fiction that it does. But we're talking about a cartoon about superheroes. We're talking about escapism at its finest. I love complicated and messy and nuanced and sometimes even heartbreaking stories -- but I also want something that makes it all worth while.

There is still one episode left, and I'm curious as to where it's going to go. Because at the end of the day, X-Men has always been about hope, too.

[bloggingboutburgers]

Something that really ought to be said more... it's ok not to understand. To never understand even. (In the case of the reblog, understanding sex / peoples' fixation on both it and romance, but it can apply to anything.)

People can give all myriad of reasons they do or like something, but that doesn't have to change your mind about how you personally engage with it.

I think the only case where understanding matters is insofar having a greater understanding helps limit how much people hate something out of ignorance, but that isn't foolproof (people can understand and still double down, which I've seen happen a lot towards every hated group under the sun).

Aspec or not, your cultural upbringing and how you physically perceive intimacy of all kinds is going to affect both if you enjoy it and how you understand it.

For many, sex and romance isn't an important goal but a thing that just happens. The uniquity of it with "life" is worth questioning, especially in cases where people feel pressured to perform and participate in sex and romance. But for many it isn't something they plan for at all. They may include it in fanfiction or fanart (and yeah it absolutely is prevalent in that space the same way edgy ms paint furry art was prevalent in the early 2010s) but that inclusion is not a message to onlookers that they must themselves aspire to a relationship like the one depicted.

Thank you so much for this, it feels sincerely validating and... Yeah, like you said, it ought to be said more.

I gotta admit it's hard sometimes not to want to understand, when (as an aro/ace person, that is) you're pretty much incentivized to do so at every turn. Even if you're lucky enough to not have been treated as a prudish freak for expressing you're aro or ace, and finger-pointed with a "You should try to understand people's point of view better" (sic: very few people try to do the same for you)... Society is portrayed as just working that way, putting romance and sex as #1 priority is portrayed as "the normal thing to do", and in my own experience and a fair amount of aros and aces around me, it seems, it's not just "included" in fanfiction or fanart, it's... Aggressively prevalent. Like, 95% to be generous, possibly more. And it's not just fanwork either. Fiction and art in general are loaded with it. So... Yeah, it's kinda hard sometimes NOT to take all of this as a message that this is what we should aspire to and the way we are isn't valid.

But then even if you're lucky enough, like I am, to FEEL valid despite all that, it's still... Lonely. I wanna understand because some days, a lot of days, it seems it's the only thing people actually connect over, and even if I'll never feel the appeal, I wanna understand the logic behind it, at least that much, so I'm not made to feel like such an alien for wanting to focus on other things. I wanna know the reasons.

Another more personal thing is that when I was growing up as an aro-ace, before I figured myself out, I thought everyone else was blowing things out of proportion to an abnormal degree without realizing I was the "abnormal" one, and that lead me to see breakups with a very "well, duh, that's what people do, they break up" outlook and not understanding the devastation behind it. I've gotten better at it, but there's still a lot I just find myself smiling and nodding to without really getting it, and that hurt too, to a degree. I feel cold to my friends and to other people.

I know I shouldn't, because I am who I am and I don't love them any less or am any more unfeeling than them, and I know I guess I shouldn't feel too guilty for not understanding allo people because allo people in general, exceptions aside, will make little to no effort to understand me back, but... Yeah, it's hard not to, a lot of the time. So being told it's OK is definitely valuable and a relief, even if it won't make that feeling go away in me, it's still a relief. Thank you.

[spleelover06]

Why I prefer Yo-Kai Watch over Pokémon

I have mentioned before that I prefer Yo-Kai Watch over Pokémon, and if you're interested in knowing why, here are the reasons why I do:

1: It's interesting how the YKW anime doesn't always just focus on the main protagonist as it also focuses on what some of the other characters and Yo-Kai do more. Pokemon pretty much focused too much on Ash Ketchum for over two decades despite having different friends from different regions. We mostly never get to see what Ash's friends are up to.

2: The side characters in Yo-Kai Watch don't get replaced every couple of years, and it feels like the crew behind the franchise actually gives a damn about their characters, unlike the Pokemon franchise, where they constantly and commonly introduce new characters and rivals and then replace them with new ones every now and then, which I did find pretty cool at first, but now it's gotten old and annoying, and I just wish they'd stop with that.

3: I find the Yo-Kai Watch fanbase to be more sane and less toxic, and it isn't around the same level of how toxic and annoying the Pokemon fanbase is, which is why I left it and also kinda regret being in it. The shippings in Yo-Kai Watch aren't really taken as seriously as the shippings in Pokemon, and there isn't really any shipping wars happening in the Yo-Kai Watch fandom, at least from what I've seen. Plus the fanbase behind the YKW games doesn't seem as bad either.

4: Yo-Kai have more personality and can make more noises and say far more than just their name, which makes it easier for me to know what each Yo-Kai is individually like.

5: The episodes in the YKW anime feel more of my style as I have always personally preferred episodic shows over shows with a lot of ongoing storylines and with the whole to be continued thing which I can find really annoying.

6: The Yo-Kai Watch games, to me, are more enjoyable than the Pokemon games are because there's more exploration to do, there's lots of content in both before and after finishing the game, the cutscenes don't really take up space during my time playing it and they are at least more interesting (especially since there are ones where they speak with voices), and the graphics, soundtracks and settings looks great to me.

7: The storylines in the games and anime are better, plus I find Nate to be a better protagonist than Ash. Nate acts more like a person in the real world with actual personality and it's interesting to see how he can see creatures that other people can't in a non forced way. This goes for Hailey Anne as well because both characters are quite relatable for people in the real world. Ash on the other hand just travels through participates in Pokemon leagues over and over again, and the show can mainly suffer from having him as the main character since it's mostly through his perspective, and the plots mostly involve him and even have him there even if he's just there not doing much (what's the point of even doing that?).

8: There aren't as much gender stereotypes used in Yo-Kai Watch as there is in Pokemon. What I mean by that is the fact that Ash's female come out as either girly girls that participate in stuff that makes them wear dresses and do elegant/graceful stuff with their stuff, or tomboys that want to accomplish something strongly just like Ash. Not only that but all of Ash's' companion's personalities and traits in Pokemon can blend into one-another, resulting in them lacking true individual personalities. Meanwhile in Yo-Kai Watch almost every character is shown to have their own personalities even if they share some traits with each other, showing that there are no gender stereotypes overused.

9: Yo-Kai Watch isn't afraid to leave the status quo like how Pokemon mostly is because we get to see Nate go through different challenges and plots as the series continues, while before season 25, the Pokemon series was too afraid of leaving the status quo to the point where they had to keep Ash going to different regions while keeping him at the age of 10 with Team Rocket stalking him. There are no excuses why they had to keep on doing that other than being afraid to leave the status quo.

10: There's no overuse of clichés in YKW, like Nate having feelings for Katie does not become so forced for example as well as how not every episode plot has the good ending we'd all sorta expect to happen. Heck, the premise seemed pretty original to me also. While in Pokemon, it's about a new trainer becoming a champion and/or Pokemon master overtime and encountering/defeating evil teams in every single region, and this is one of the reasons why I left the fandom. The whole premise just seemed really clichéd to me and it's something that the Pokemon anime was too afraid to change it up more until the horizons series came (I'd say it's more tolerable than the original anime).

And that's me done with explaining things out about why I think this way. I've tried to think the opposite of this when I was younger but I fully failed to do so and went back to my original thoughts on the two franchises. There's just too many Pokemon, games, seasons/episodes, movies, altered storylines and characters from the Pokemon franchise for me to give a damn about them while Yo-Kai Watch gives out all of that stuff in a way where they're not overdoing it and that makes the series more interesting. If you think the other way around, then I can handle that opinion of yours. This pretty concludes what I wanted to say here and I hope y'all understand what I felt like saying here. If you do, thanks.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for using a poem I wrote for my ex-girlfriend to apply for a scholarship?

I'm pretty sure that I'm not TA here, we're still on good terms anyway and it's unlikely she'll ever even find out about this unless I outright tell her, but I'd like to know if I'm committing some grievous social faux pas here.

So. I (21F) met my ex-girlfriend, who we'll call Jolene (22F) online a couple years back. The specifics of how we met will make it immediately obvious to anyone who knows either of us that it's me writing the AITA post, so I'm going to leave those out, but we were friends for a while before she asked me out, and it's relevant that we became friends over writing. We hit it off pretty well for a while, to the point where I wrote a poem being incredibly gay for her despite not (then) being much of a poet at all.

And then I went to visit her in person. Y'see, she'd come to visit me in person the previous winter, and that went fine, barring the fact that I ended up being super overwhelmed by the end of the visit—suffice to say that I'm extremely asexual, and she's extremely not. This came to a head when I went to visit her, she constantly wanted to be hanging out and doing things, and I straight up could not handle that much social interaction with anyone for that long. It got to the point where I was straight up dreading being with her, so I took a step back, examined my feelings, and decided yeah, we'd probably be better off as friends or as queerplatonic partners or something nonromantic.

We're still on fairly good terms, I'd say? Though I still feel extremely awkward over the circumstances of said breakup, she can't change how she is and I can't change how I am, and she's really happy with her new girlfriend so. Hell yeah. We love to see it. (There's also the additional complication that I might be something approaching arospec, but. Y'know. Details.)

Fast forward to today, several months after our breakup. I'm applying for scholarships for my university. I happen to be going for an English major and one of the available scholarships involves submitting up to 5 poems of any length. I remember, abruptly, the poem I wrote for her, go looking in our DMs, and—yep, there it is. Still incredibly gay.

Between that and some haikus about wildlife (long story), that brings my count of poems up to four of the five total allowed. I haven't submitted the application yet, but I've only got four days left to, and I absolutely don't have to submit my extremely gay poem alongside the wildlife haikus, I'm looking at the application right now and it says up to 5 poems of any length, presumably implying that I can have anywhere from 1-5 poems in that document.

But... I really want to. I'm not romantically in love with Mabel anymore, and while our personalities don't mesh super well these days, I still care about her a lot and if this is some giant social faux pas I'm unaware of (I'm unaware of a lot of those, I've never gotten formally diagnosed with anything but I highly doubt I'm remotely neurotypical if that's relevant) and it feels kind of like a way of saluting the relationship that was good while it lasted?

Also, and possibly more relevantly to the scholarship thing, it's a halfway decent poem. Nothing award-winning, but I'll never get any scholarships if I don't try for them, y'know? ...And I kind of really need the scholarships, due to reasons best brought up in an entirely different AITA post involving my mom.

So. Uh. Yeah. I know what I'll be doing regardless, no way this gets a solid judgment before it's time to submit, but I do want to know if it's an AH move or not. AITA?

What are these acronyms?